Alastor Moody

When the ten of them first entered Potter's memories, they found themselves in a large empty room. "What are we doing in the room of requirement?" Neville asked.

"Hello." A familiar voice said. Everyone turned, and there was Harry James Potter, looking at them in the same uniform as before. Well, not at them, but in their general direction. He was standing tall and proud, at attention, with his hands held behind his back, his feet apart, and his chest out. Like a soldier, Mad-Eye thought.

The back wall was set up with four large flags and a large map under them. The map looked a bit like a strange bullseye, with one big circle, and two smaller circles inside it, and each circle had four little U-shaped extensions on them. One to the north, south, east, and west. Each circle also had a similar crest next to it, each with the head of a different woman. As for the flags, All of them were emerald green in color, but the crests on each of them were different. The first was a crest with two crossed swords on it. The second had a pair of red roses on it with white thorny stems and leaves. The third, the head of a green unicorn with a white mane and horn on it. Finally, the fourth crest was a pair of crossed wings. The wing on top was white, and the wing on the bottom was blue.

"Do not try to interact with me, I am setting this up so I have a memory that explains all of this to you before you begin. After all, isn't it easier to understand a story if you know the setting?" Memory-Harry asked. "Now, the first thing I'd like to ask all of you is this: have you ever heard of reincarnation?... It's the rebirth of a soul in a new body. Well, I'm not sure if it's ever happened before, but it happened to me. I lived another life, before this one. In the past of an alternate universe. A terrible, wretched place where there was no magic, and all of humanity was nearly extinct.

"But, I'm getting ahead of myself. About a hundred years before I was born into my first life, they appeared. Giant, humanoid creatures with a taste for our blood. We called them, the Titans. The brute strength of these aberrations trumped an average person's many times over. We, humanity, were shoved to the brink of extinction almost overnight. The survivors erected walls Maria, Rose, and Sina. Withdrawing behind them for just over one hundred years. I was ten years old when this uneasy peace ended.

"The military was divided into three main regiments:" Harry pulled out his wand and pointed at the last flag, the one with the unicorn on it. "The Military Police, who served and protected the King and his people." He pointed at the second flag, the one with the roses, "the Garrison Regiment, who patrolled and protected the walls." He pointed to the third flag, the one with the crossed wings, "And the Scouting Legion, also known as the Wings of Freedom, the Scouting Regiment, and the Recon Corp. What can I say? There were a lot of names. They went outside the walls to fight the Titans, and try to reclaim the lands that were rightfully ours." Alastor noticed the pride and admiration in his voice, and guessed that if he was a soldier, that was probably the regiment he'd joined. Eren pointed to the first flag. "Plus, there was the Cadet Corps, which was made up only of new recruits in training to join one of the other three, and the teachers who taught them.

"Hah, but here I am now, getting ahead of myself, again. In my previous life, I was born to Carla and Grisha Yeager, quite possibly the best parents a boy in my world could have asked for, on March 30 of the year 835, in Shagashina district of wall Maria, here." Harry said, pulling out his wand and pointing at the U-shaped extension on the south side of Wall Maria. "My father was a brilliant doctor, who single handedly saved all of Wall Maria and its' districts from the plague. My Mother was quite possibly one of the kindest people you could ever meet, but she was a stern Mom, and wasn't afraid to yank me hard on the ear when I got out of line. My name was Eren, Eren Yeager. I also had an adopted sister named Mikasa. She was really quiet, didn't talk much. She pretty much said what needed to be said and that was that. She was just as tough as she was beautiful, and that was really saying something. She was also really strong. She was a brilliant fighter, even at a young age, and all of the children who dared pick on me, or my best friend, Armin Alert, were terrified of her. She could kick all of their asses with one hand behind her back!"

"I had it a lot better than a lot of kids in my earliest years. But, I didn't live a charmed life, either. I had anger issues, and dreams that were… outside the norm, even taboo. That made it difficult for me to make friends. Until Mikasa came along when I was about nine, Armin was the only friend I had. He actually inspired my earliest dreams to leave the walls and take back the Earth from the Titans. Books about the outside world were strictly illegal, and the penalty for having one was high, but Armin somehow got his hands on one, and he showed it to me.

"I couldn't believe what was out there! Lands covered in sand as far as the eye could see? Apparently, those were called 'deserts', and they stole it from us. A body of saltwater that never ended? No way! Never in my wildest dreams could I ever imagine that something as valuable as salt came in an infinite supply, somewhere. Our ancestors called it the 'ocean', or the 'sea', and they stole it from us. Vast lands covered in ice? Exotic fruits and animals? They stole it from us. Sad, isn't it? We'd never even seen deserts, rainforests, the poles. We'd never even seen our own ocean, for God's sake!

"I dreamed of enlisting in the Wings of Freedom as soon as I was old enough to enlist. Training began at the age of twelve, and ended at the age of fifteen. Armin and I were very proud and very vocal about our dreams, and most people didn't feel the same way. Most were perfectly happy to live behind the walls like cattle. Eating and sleeping their pathetic lives away. For that reason, we were bullied and harassed by the other kids in Shiganshina."

Harry, Eren, whichever, took a deep breath. "But, when I was nine years old, the trauma began. You see someone get killed? Maybe even someone you know? A parent? A child? A friend? That's trauma. You go to war? That there's trauma. Get raped? Trauma. Get tortured? Trauma. Walk in on a murder scene to find two innocent people dead and their daughter missing? Trauma. Run into the murderers/kidnappers and murder two of them and watch the third one die? Guess what? That's trauma. You'd know a thing or two about that, wouldn't you? Dumbledore? Snape? Mad-Eye? Lupin? All of you fought in the first wizard's war. You've all got your fair share of trauma. Well, so do I. It came with me from my first life. And that began in the year 844, Wall Maria. I was nine years old."

Then, the scene changed.

It was raining. Raining hard. A little boy and a man, his father, stood at the door of a log cabin on the edge of a dense forest. In the distance, Alastor could see the wall. Wall Maria. And what a wall it was! Even from the distance they were at, Alastor could tell it was huge. His magical eye zoomed in on it, and he could see cannons on the top, facing outwards, and soldiers milling about on patrol.

Alastor turned back to the boy and his father. The boy looked like a younger version of Harry, minus the glasses and scar, with dark brown hair and tan skin. He was wearing a little black cloak and a red scarf to protect him from the cold. He was rather adorable. That's Harry in his previous life. Eren Yeager. Alastor said to himself. The man next to him, knocking on the door to the cabin, had the same hair color and skin, but his hair was long, he had a small beard, and he was wearing a pair of glasses very similar to the pair Harry wore all the time in this life. He was wearing a blue cloak. Nice to meet you, Grisha Yeager. Mad-Eye thought.

"Her name's Mikasa." Eren said to his father.

"Yes, and she's just about your age. Try to get along, okay? There aren't many children around here, and I'd rather have you not grow up to be an outcast."

"As long as she's nice to me, we won't have a problem." Eren said. Alastor could hear hostility in his voice. This kid was bullied, Harry had said, he didn't trust other kids easily.

"Eren," Grisha said gently, "Look for the bad in people and expect to find it, and you will." Grisha said. He turned to the door. "Huh? That's odd. Are they home?" Grisha asked, knocking again. "Mr. Ackerman? It's Dr. Yeager." He called. Grisha opened the door. "Is anyone home?" He froze, and his eyes went wide.

"Well, are they or aren't they?" Little Eren asked. Silence. "Dad? What's wrong?"

Grisha slowly opened the door, and started going into the house, then, he rushed forwards. Little Eren, along with the ten people visiting his memories, looked inside, and blood went cold. There was blood everywhere. And there upon the floor, laid Mr. and Mrs. Ackerman, dead. Obviously murdered in cold blood. The father, from a stab wound to the liver. The mother, from a hatchet wound on her skull and shoulder. Blood was pooled and splattered all over the floor, it decorated the furniture, walls, and windows. Grisha was checking the father's vitals. "Damnit!" He said, when he found none. He rushed to the mother. "Damn it!" He sighed, realizing she was dead as well. Grisha turned back to his son.

"Shield his eyes, you fool." Alastor heard Minerva say quietly next to him. "Shield his eyes from this horrible sight. He's nine. He has no place seeing something like this."

"As much as I agree with you, Minerva, be quiet." Albus said.

"Look around." Grisha said to his son. "Do you see their daughter anywhere? Perhaps she's outside."

"I don't think so." Little Eren said. His eyes were wide. Haunted. Whatever innocence may have been there, was gone. Slaughtered just like the man and woman, cold and dead upon the floor.

"This is bad." Grisha said. "I need to alert the Military Police of this while the trial's warm. Wait for me at the foot of the mountain. Understood? Say that back to me. Word for word. Eren!"

But Eren was only half-listening. He was staring at the bloody scene with those eyes. Those haunted, teal eyes. Trauma. Mad-Eye thought, remembering what Harry had said.

The scene changed. Eren, traumatized little Eren, was walking alone, to the foot of the mountain, as he'd been told to do. It was the same day. His clothes hadn't changed, and it was still raining. Eren looked down, and saw several sets of footprints in the mud. Suddenly, he snapped out of it.

"Those… bastards!" The boy snarled. "That must be the way they took her. Sorry, Dad. I won't be going to the foot of the mountain. They'll be long gone by the time the Military Police arrive. Hold on, Mikasa. I'm coming." Eren following the footprints.

"What is he thinking?" Minerva asked.

"Have you ever known Harry to shy away from danger when someone's life depended on it?" Lupin asked.

"I salute the kid. He's right. The Military Police wouldn't arrive in time. Let's just hope he does this right. " Mad-Eye said.

"Maybe, but-" Minerva started to argue.

"Quiet! Look!" Severus said, pointing.

Ahead, little Eren had come across a cabin, hidden deep in the woods. He approached it cautiously, walked up onto the front porch, and peeked inside one of the windows. Inside a nearly furnitureless room, it's once green, faded wallpaper peeling, There were two men arguing about something, and a beautiful little asian girl, about nine years old, laying on the floor. Her hands were tied behind her back. She wasn't fighting, she wasn't moving. Her eyes were cold and emotionless from the shock and horror of what they had seen: the murder of her Mommy and Daddy. She was staring straight ahead at nothing. If it weren't for the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, Alastor would have thought she was dead. Mikasa Ackerman.

Eren approached the door cautiously, and opened it to find himself in a foyer. There were coats hanging on the walls, and barrels lined up along the walls. Eren pressed his ear to the door to the next room and eavesdropped. From what he heard, it sounded like these bastards were planning on selling that beautiful, innocent little girl into an illegal sex trade. There were several knives sitting on top of one of the barrels. Eren reached over and picked one up. There was a broomstick leaning on the far wall. Eren tiptoed over to it and tied the knife tightly to the end of it with some string that had been hanging on the wall. He's making a spear. Eren leaned it on the wall closer to the door and picked up another knife.

"Smart lad, going for a weapon." Alastor muttered.

Eren took a deep breath, and suddenly, did something both strange and smart. He reached up, and yanked hard at one of his nose hairs. He hissed from the pain, and tears brimmed at his eyes.

"What's he doing?" Ron whispered.

"Wait- I think I know what he's up to! Eren, er- Harry, that's brilliant!" Hermione whispered back. Mad-Eye was pretty sure he knew what Eren was doing as well. With tears brimming in the corners of his eyes, Eren hid the knife behind his back, took a deep breath, and slowly opened the door just a crack. In the silence and tension, the creak was deafening. The two men snapped to attention. The one sitting down stood up, and they gasped in alarm.

"Uh… I'm sorry." Eren said in a nervous, frightened, innocent little voice. He was digging up all of his self-control, because Alastor could feel the rage rushing off of him in waves.

One of the men rushed forwards, and yanked the door open all the way violently. "You little vermin! How did you even find this place?"

Eren looked up, false fear in his eyes. "Uh… well… I was… in the woods. Got. Lost. I saw your cabin and…" Eren said. Alastor had to say, he was an impressive little actor.

The unsuspecting child-trafficker looked back at his partner, and the fatter man made two flat motions with his hand. Alastor was pretty sure he knew what it meant, because the next second, the man at the door's entire demeanor changed.

"Lost in the woods, huh?" The man smiled and knelt down to Eren's level and rubbed his head affectionately. "A kid your age shouldn't be out there on his own to begin with. Big bad wolves are liable to pounce on ya from outta nowhere. It's alright now, you'll be safe here. My buddy and I'll be happy to make-" He was cut off by Eren's knife plunging straight into his heart.

"I appreciate that, sir. But I'm not stupid." Eren said, using his free arm to push the man's hand off of his head. "And I'm the last thing you'll ever see." He said. And indeed, the last thing that horrible man ever saw was the angry look on little Eren's face, and his own splatter of blood as Eren Yeager ripped the knife out. His body dropped to the floor with a *thud*.

The second man stood up so fast, the chair he'd been sitting on fell over. "What in the hell do you think you're doing?!" He asked angrily.

"Preventing you from selling a nine year old girl into the sex trade, you bastard." Sirius muttered beside Alastor.

Eren closed the door, grabbed his makeshift spear, and backed up. When the second man barged in with a hatchet, Eren rushed at him with a furious yell/battle cry before he could even react and plunged the spear into his throat. The man stumbled backwards and landed on his back on the floor. Eren jumped on him, straddling his body, took the first knife, already bloody with his partner's blood, and plunged it into the man's chest. Pulled out, stuck it in. Stab. Stab. Stab. Over and over. Droplets of crimson blood flew everywhere. Eren's eyes burned with a rage that was surely as terrifying as the fires of hell. All the while, Eren Yeager screamed.

"AAAAAAAUGH! YOU'RE AN ANIMAL! YOU HEAR ME?! NO! YOU'RE A DISEASE! THIS IS WHAT YOU GET YOU SON OF A B***H! THIS IS WHAT YOU GET FOR BEING WHAT YOU ARE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE!..."

When Eren finally stopped, when he was too tired to keep stabbing the corpse, when his rationality finally returned, he sat back over his kill, breathing hard, knife in hand, looking at the ceiling. From the window behind him, light streamed into the room, making Eren's figure mostly a silhouette. He wiped the sweat from his brow and the angry tears from his eyes, looked over at Mikasa and said in a soft voice that was sincere, gentle, and compassionate, "The hard part is over. You're safe, now."

Eren stood up and walked slowly and calmly over to Mikasa, trying not to frighten her. He lifted her body up so she was no longer laying on the ground like a sack of meat, and Mikasa stayed sitting up so that Eren could use the bloody murder weapon to cut her ropes.

"Anyway, Mikasa, right? My name's Eren. I'm Dr. Yeager's son. I met your folks once or twice while I was with him. We stopped by your house today for your checkup. We saw."

Mikasa was rubbing her red, sore wrists. "What happened to the third one?" She asked.

Eren gasped, clearly not aware there was a third one. There were footsteps behind them, and when the two children turned around, there stood parent murder/child kidnapper number three, staring shocked at the sight of his dead comrades. That look changed to anger, and before Eren could reach the knife, there was a boot that kicked him hard in the side, sending him tumbling across the room.

"This is all your doing, isn't it?" He asked. He grabbed Eren by the hair and lifted him off the floor so his fingers could wrap around Eren's little neck, holding him aloof and strangling him. Eren's fingers grabbed the man's hands, trying to fight the strong hands cutting off his oxygen. "Answer me, you little bastard!" The man yelled. "You did this! I'm going to kill you! You're going to die!"

Mikasa stared in horror. She was nine. Alastor didn't expect her to know to do much else. Eren, saliva coming out of his mouth, looked over at Mikasa and said in a strained voice, "T-take him out! Fight! Fight! Kill or be killed! Fight for your life! It's… it's the only way! The only way to live… is to fight!"

"Who the hell do you think you are, you little brat?" The man asked angrily

"The only way to live… is to fight!" Eren cried out again.

Mikasa picked up the knife and held it in front of her with shaking hands. "I… I can't! I don't think I can do this!"

Suddenly, Mikasa froze. Her body stopped shaking. She got this… look on her face. And Mad-Eye just knew. Something inside her just woke up.

"Fight!" Mikasa cried. She gripped the knife so hard, the handle splintered to wood chips. Her first bare foot made contact with the floor so hard, the planks broke beneath her. Mikasa Ackerman surged forwards with a scream and plunged the knife straight into the third man's heart from behind.

The scene changed.

Ron Weasley

They were back in the room of requirement again. At first, no one noticed him. They were too busy staring at each other with looks of horror (though a few also looked impressed *cough* Moody and Sirius *cough*). Then, his voice said, "What'd I tell you? Trauma." Everyone looked over to see Harry sitting in a chair backwards, looking at them.

Mate, how could you have never told me any of this? Ron asked himself. I thought I knew you.

"I killed people. I know that's what you're all thinking. But I think you're wrong. They weren't people. Just monsters in disguise. They killed two innocent people, and would have sold their daughter to the highest bidder in the illegal sex trade, to be raped daily by the highest bidder just for being an oriental. In my world, there were no other races. Everyone was of european decent except for a few, and that was like seeing a unicorn. Mikasa's mother was asian. If you were to compare my world's geography with yours, Mikasa's ancestors on her mother's side were some of the few people who made it to the walls from the east when the titans first appeared. We called them 'orientals'. The rest were devoured. Mikasa was the daughter of the last pure asian in existence. They were going after both Mikasa and her mother, we later learned, but Mrs. Ackerman fought back, and the first man I killed panicked and split her head open with a f***ing axe." Harry/Eren snapped.

"So, tell me? Am I a monster? Or a hero? I don't know. I guess if I were a monster, I wouldn't know. You decide."

You're a hero. Ron said to himself.

He heard Sirius, Hermione, Neville, and (much to his shock) Snape all mutter "Hero." Under their breaths.

Memory-Harry smiled. "Yep, that's where the trauma began. And you heard me correctly. I said began."

"Tell me it doesn't get worse!" Professor McGonagall cried, throwing her arms up in the air.

"It gets worse." Harry said, as if he'd just known someone was going to say that. "Mikasa came to live with us after her parents died. She had nowhere else to go, and my Dad noticed I was actually getting along with her. I gave her that scarf I was wearing that day, and she never took it off. Life was good. Mikasa, Armin, and I were best friends. Mikasa protected us from bullies, and though not as enthusiastic as us, Mikasa liked the idea of the outside world, too. We'd often find ourselves by the river, talking about whatever, spending lazy childhood days playing 'Titans and Soldiers', and daydreaming about the outside world.

"As for Mikasa, we didn't have the same knowledge about trauma, PTSD, and the like as you guys have the luck of having. Though Dad talked to her about her past whenever he could tell it was bothering her, she never got any formal therapy. She, if I were to describe it one way, went cold. I never saw the scared little girl who cried, 'I can't' again. After that day, it seemed that Mikasa could do anything. She was poised. Focused. Ready. Like an arrow pulled back on a bowstring, ready to fire. Every second of every day. I truly believe that after that day, Mikasa was only afraid of one thing. One thing in the entire universe: losing me. See, I didn't realize it until after I got older, as young and stupid as I was, but on that day, I became Mikasa's rock. She'd just lost everything. Given up on everything. Lost her reason to live. Then I came along. I saved her life, I snapped her out of it and gave her her fighting spirit back. Then in the aftermath, I was kind and gentle to her. I inadvertently became her everything. She wanted nothing more in life than to be by my side. And I didn't realize it until it was almost too late.

"But here I go, getting ahead of myself again. Before you can know anything about that, the rest of my life, the titans, the war, you need to know about… that day. This memory, is the one I have dreaded showing you the most. This memory is where the majority of my trauma came from. This memory set me on my path. This memory gave me my sole reason for living. Revenge. Getting my home back from the titans. Driving them out of this world. What day was this, you ask? What was so terrible that you speak of it so? Well, that's why I left this to you, in 2,000 years."

Harry/Eren (Ron wasn't sure which, anymore) leaned forwards in his chair. His eyes were dark, almost dead… traumatized. And his voice matched. "Year 845, Shiganshina District."

The scene changed.

First of all, I wanted to apologize for the wait. I ran into some writer's block and I apologize.

Second of all, I wanted to thank all of you for the reviews! Sorry this one's shorter. Chapters 3 and 4 were originally going to be one chapter, but then they were REALLY FREAKING LONG! So, I split them into two chapters and 3 ended up being kinda short. But hey, you get 2 chapters in one week so, awesome for you guys! Be sure to leave reviews! See ya next time!

-alphashley14 :)