Notes:

Forgot the disclaimer in the last chapter, but here it is: I do not own any of the characters from FFIX and Harry Potter, they are property of their respective owners.

Also I should warn many of you that this fic contains adult language, mainly coming from Zidane. I try to keep characters in character, and as someone raised in the streets with a band of thieves, I do not think very highly of Zidane's vocabulary. As for pairings, this story won't exactly focus on romance, there will be some romance, but it isn't this fic's focus. Pairings will be canon though, so heads up.

Chapter 2: You're not in Kansas anymore.

...

The first thing he realized was that it was completely and absolutely dark, darker than a moonless night or a bottomless pit, yet much like the moments before waking up, his mind could hardly comprehend what it all meant. The second thing he realized was that it was cold and slightly damp, not nearly cold enough to freeze, but enough to feel some discomfort. He was never one for comforts anyways so it didn't matter to him much. He could feel something rough beneath him and above him the air permeated a familiar, yet unsavory smell. If he could only recall what it was.

The next thing he became aware of was the great pain in his right side, slowly rearing its ugly head as his mind seemed to clear and everything became more vivid.

It wasn't until blue-green eyes slowly opened into slits, that Zidane realized that they were the major cause for the darkness. As his blurry vision focused, he realized that that another likely reason for that darkness was the night sky he currently found himself staring at. Few stars could be seen twinkling, which gave him the feeling that something wasn´t quite right. Even in Lindlum you could see more stars.

'But then, where I am? What the hell happened? I was… in Alexandria, practicing in the courtyard!' Zidane stumbled to his feet but only managed to fall to his knees as a wave of vertigo hit him and a flare of pain blossomed from his right side. 'It's dark now, but it was just noon when I was practicing. How long was I out?'

Clutching his injured side protectively, Zidane tried to close his eyes to dismiss the incoming wave of nausea but just didn't seem to help. He tried to get up again, but only managed to walk a few paces, only to throw up his last meal on the cold, hard pavement. It took him a series of deep breaths to make his retching fit subside, and when it finally did, Zidane admitted he felt a bit better.

This time he slowly got up, minding his right side, and finally took in his surroundings. He was in an alley, the buildings surrounding him being much taller than what he was used to. Beside his puddle of vomit was what looked like a huge grimy metal box with a lid on top. The lid was slightly ajar, letting him see inside, only to discover a large number of bags filled with trash. A couple of smaller cylindrical bins, also filled with trash could also be seen near the large one. Empty, shattered bottles of what he could only guess was booze littered the dirty alley he was in.

'Well that explains the smell.' Zidane mused, tail swaying slowly.

He looked back at where he woke up, noticing the burn marks on the ground, then he noticed the slightly blackened things right in the center. He bent down to pick them up and noticed, with some surprise, that it was the books on magic he had gotten. Their covers were slightly charred, but otherwise they were perfectly readable, and thus by his standards, just fine. He almost dropped his books however, when his side decided to act up. With a wince, Zidane lifted his shirt and vest to check the damage. There were no broken ribs thankfully, but his skin was rapidly turning into a deep purple. It would no doubt become a handsome bruise in the morning. His right was slightly burned, but judging by the charred markings on the floor, he had gotten off easy. His biggest concern was with the bleeding cut on his right forearm and the scrapes along his arm, mostly because of the chance of it getting infected. Landing on the dirty concrete near piles of garbage obviously didn't help. Thankfully, a potion or a quickly cast cure could easily take care of that.

'Which reminds me...' Zidane though as he reached behind him and gave a sigh of relief. He still had his pouch.

He had taken to carrying it around him all the time in case he got caught up in another adventure, or he had to leave Alexandria quickly. The magicked pouch could hold an almost ridiculous amount of items, and was a must for any adventure. In it was a set of first aid items, your typical potions, high potions, ethers, remedies, and the like. He had also taken to carrying his daggers just in case. Nothing too fancy, just a pair of Mage Mashers and Orichalcum, the latter being mostly for comfort seeing as it was his first dagger. Its blade was noticeably worn down from wear and tear to the point where it was nearly useless in combat. It didn't matter though since he always preferred just using a pair of Mage Mashers for being less bulky and easier to wield. In his bag he also kept a collection of seemingly miscellaneous items and artifacts, like Gysahl Greens, Kupo Nuts, Dead Peppers, his World Map, and a bunch of other things he got in their last adventure. They were things he never really got around to sorting out of his bag.

'At least I have my things with me.' Zidane said, thanking the Eidolons that he was at least somewhat prepared. He put his three magic books into his pouch, and after casting a quick cure spell at his wound, so it would at least close, he decided to look into more pressing matters.

'Like where the hell am I.'

Zidane decided to make his way out of the alley so he could at least figure out in what city he was in, this was obviously not Alexandria nor Lindblum. Maybe it was Treno, if the run down alley was anything to go by. Or maybe it was a new rebuilt section in Lindblum, but it didn't make sense since this was hardly what he called 'new', besides, he had been there and even helped with the reconstruction. Moreover there was something not quite right with the air of this place, but he couldn't quite place his finger over what it was.

He was about to step out into the street beyond when Zidane simply froze. He could suddenly feel a buzz ripple through the air, it was like the feeling you got before getting hit by a particularly nasty thundaga spell. A foreboding feeling he knew all too well and made the hairs on his neck and tail all bristle and stand on end.

Then he heard it. There were a series of loud 'cracks' that reminded him of what snapping wood or bone sounded like. The sound brought shivers down his spine since they eerily reminded him of the Iifa Tree. Then he heard voices and approaching footsteps.

"Let's move quickly, the anomaly was detected in the next alley." Called a deep voice. It held a air of command and an accent he couldn't quite place. "Our mission as Aurors is to find out what caused it and neutralize it. Do not kill, I repeat, we need to take the one responsible back to questioning."

Zidane didn't know who these people were, the only thing he knew was that they were probably after him, and he sure as hell didn't want to know what they meant by 'neutralize'. Immediately his reflexes kicked in, years of being a thief told him that if he valued his life it was high time to turn tail and run. It was an automatic response at this point. Running was safer than fighting. It was not cowardice, it was strategy. Especially when you were injured, didn't know who your foes were and/or what they were capable of. He had never heard of any 'Aurors' or whatever the hell they called themselves.

Before he even registered what he was doing, Zidane found himself doing acrobatic jumps, propelling himself up the narrow alley and landing with cat-like grace on the top of the adjacent building. His tail extended to help him keep perfect balance despite his painfully throbbing side.

Now the genome was faced with a difficult decision, he could either get away safely, or wait to see what happened when those men ran into the empty alley. Be safe or risk it. Being who he was it was a bit of a no-brainer. His damn curiosity simply wouldn't allow him to walk away without knowing why these people were after him.

'How did that saying go? Curiosity killed the cat?' Zidane mused.

'Shit.'

The genome quickly crouched down in a manner similar to a feline about to pounce but slowly edged himself closer to the ledge, just in time to see the strange group of individuals enter the now-empty alley. There were four of them and the first thing he noticed was their weird choice of clothing. Though he had seen mages wear robes before, the bright colors of fabric that these people wore made him think that they were actually wearing bizarre dresses. Ok, so some of them settled for plain black, but he could see that their leader, most likely the deep voiced man from before, was wearing bright purple robes. For a group that was trying to sneak up on him, they were making a damn great job at letting him know so. Had he been anywhere else than that alley, he could have probably seen them a mile away.

"Tonks, status." The deep voiced man said. Only then Zidane noticed that they were holding sticks. STICKS. Not even staffs, they were thin little sticks. But upon closer inspection, the genome noticed that there were tiny lights at the end of each stick. So maybe they were weapons?

"The alley is empty, the only sign of the anomaly are the scorch marks on the pavement. There is a slight trace of magic left, definitely a powerful spell, but not enough to trace it back to its caster." This time it was a woman who spoke, probably young based on her voice. Zidane quickly took interest.

He leaned in forward to take a better look, he couldn't see their faces, but noticed that the speaker was the only woman in the group. He could see she had bright pink hair that reminded him a bit of his trance form. She had pretty good physique though…

'Dammit Zidane, get your head out of the gutter, you have a fiancé.' Zidane said, quickly shaking his head. Old habits die hard. He had to ignore his urge to go down there are flirt with her. That wouldn't be considered cheating would it?

Then Zidane remembered that girl could possibly want to kill him. "Dammit."

'Crap, I said that out loud.' Zidane realized, too preoccupied with that to noticed that the strange buzzing had returned.

"STUPEFY!" One of the men cried out, a red beam shot out towards him. Zidane was barely able to dodge out of pure instinct, since he was a bit too preoccupied with the fact that the man SHOT OUT A FREAKING RED BEAM OF LIGHT FROM THE STICK. Not to mention that he was being called 'stupid'.

So those sticks were weapons then.

"Dawlish!" the deep voiced man called.

"I heard something coming from the top." The man identified as Dawlish said.

"Alright, then Proudfoot, go with Dawlish to investigate, we'll stay and make sure we don't have to obliviate any muggles. Use discretion." The deep voiced man said stressing on the last point.

The two men nodded and then there were another two 'cracks'. Beneath him the men had disappeared.

'Crap.'

The next moment, Zidane quickly realized that the ominous buzzing once again returned. This time he had a good feeling he knew what it meant. Before he had the chance to see for himself, he did what he should have from the beginning: turn tail and run, literally. Using his superb agility, he dashed through the rooftops like the master thief he was, leaping through the gaps between each building like it was nothing. He was able to register two loud 'cracks' behind him, some words, and then a flurry of colored beams of light aimed at him. He dodged most of them but one grazed him in the arm, his injured right arm, which hurt, and strangely enough made him feel like he had been hit by a 'drain' spell. Needless to say, Zidane soon realized two things: firstly, there was no way he could lose them if they could teleport and shoot beams at him like that, secondly, these people had managed to piss him off, he could not just run away from that.

Zidane managed to dodge another spell and this time he took refuge behind a chimney, feeling the foreign spells strike the brick. He was grateful for the fact that the moons were not shining in the sky tonight, otherwise their aim would be much better. He was nothing but a moving shadow to them, which reminded him of something else that made him even more grateful. Genomes had keener senses than humans, and possibly other races. He discovered that early as a thief, though he didn't know why until much later. He had better night vision than most people, Dagger even said that sometimes in the dark, his eyes would reflect light much like a cat making them glow eerily.

'In any case, time to show these people just who they are dealing with.' Zidane said with a smirk. It was also a good time to practice some spells he had been dying to try out.

Zidane quickly readied his first spell, he wasn't even going to bother bringing out his daggers for this fight. Now he just had to wait. Either they did their teleporting trick to get him by surprise, try to coax him to come with them, or attack head on. Neither would be pretty.

"You are hereby part of a criminal investigation, put your wand down and your hands up where we can see them. If not, you shall be charged with obstructing a Ministry investigation. We will not repeat ourselves again." One of the men said.

Zidane didn't answer. 'Criminal investigation? Wand? Ministry? What the hell were these people talking about? Was this some kind of sick joke? I didn't do anything wrong…lately. What did they even mean by the last two?!'

"Well then. Dawlish!" The man called.

This time Zidane heard something like 'bombarda' and then the next thing he knew, the chimney blew up, sending dust and debris everywhere. But Zidane was ready, he heard a tell tale 'crack' right next to him and delivered a kick right into the man's stomach, effectively knocking the breath out of him. While this one was down, he turned towards the spot he knew the other man was at, just waiting for him to make his first move so he could pinpoint his location. Just as the dust cleared, a jet of red light flew past him, and this time after dodging it, Zidane finally unleashed his spell.

"My eyes!" The man cried out at the sudden blackout. Apparently he had never experienced 'blind'. Zidane looked at his proud work, happy of his accomplishment. Despite being a white magic spell, blind could do some real damage, especially if your fighting style required proper aim.

The blinded man was now panicking and shooting spells everywhere, black flame-like mist flickering over his eyes. Zidane winced as he felt a stray spell graze his tail. He decided then that it would be interesting to see what getting hit by one of the beams did. He had another spell in mind.

An iridescent bubble quickly surrounded him as Zidane finished casting 'reflect'. Just in time too, as one of those red beams managed to come his way. The beam struck the barrier, making the surface ripple, but was then shot back from whence it came, striking the man right in the chest. The effect was instant. One moment the man was blindly shooting everywhere and the next he was laying knocked out on the floor.

'So that's what it does; instant knock out.' Zidane thought after taking note of how the man's chest still rose and fell with each breath.

He was brought out of his thoughts when he heard the other man slowly getting up, while taking in great gulps of air. The man seemed to search for something, but then stopped when he saw his stick on the ground a few feet away from him. Quickly as if his life depended on it, the man scrambled to reach the piece of wood, but Zidane wasn't going to allow that. The blonde genome closed in on the man, fast enough to blur, and delivered a punch to his face that made the man fall like a rock.

"That's definitely going to hurt him in the morning." Zidane muttered with a smirk. But still he found it odd.

'Why did he need the stick so badly? Even if he can't use hand to hand combat, he should at least be able to cast his spells without it right?'

Zidane then decided to leave it at that, he did not need to waste time and give the other two the chance to come after him.

….

The deep voiced man, otherwise known as Kingsley Shacklebolt finished obliviating the last of the muggles that witnessed the event. That last drunken muggle would probably wake up to believe he passed out on the streetafter a night of heavy drinking.

Still, he wondered what was taking those two so long.

Normally this matter would be left to the department that handled improper use of magic, however, the magic they had detected was unlike any they had picked up before. Given the current state of affairs within the Ministry, the Auror Department had been called to settle matters. Fudge still diligently denied the possible return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but he also did not want to take any chances. To be specific, he did not want any of this to be revealed to the public, thus upmost secrecy was required.

"Tonks, we're done here, let's go back and find Proudfoot and Dawlish."

The currently pink haired metamorthmagus nodded and the two apparated to the roof of the building next to the alley. As an experienced auror, Shacklebolt felt a foreboding feeling when they realized that the place was empty. Just where were they?

He decided to try apparating further another two buildings over. There he saw his first clue, a blasted chimney. He walked further along, while Tonks tripped on the remains of a brick earning a look from the tall man. It was hard to see since the night was so dark, but after casting lumos the scenewas illuminated with the soft light coming from his wand. Shacklebolt was about apparate elsewhere when he heard Tonks, once again trip a few feet away from him, only this time she couldn't regain her footing. He was about to pass it off given her innate clumsiness, when he heard a gasp from his companion. Turning quickly, Shacklebolt found a pale white haired Tonks looking at the 'thing' that made her trip. It was Dawlish.

He was currently lying unconscious with his wand on the ground before him. Shacklebolt was able to make out a nasty bruise forming on his left cheek as well as the beginnings of a black eye. A rennervate spell later and he was up. Proudfoot was found a few meters away. Unlike Dawlish, he seemed to have been taken out using stupefy. His surprise however came after rennervating the man and seeing a black mist hovering in front of his eyes. Proudfoot claimed their target did it. He tried finite and finite incantatem, but to no avail. The only thing he could think of was that it was the work of dark magic, and if that was the case, he could not guarantee the man's recovery.

"Did you at least get a look at the suspect?" Shacklebolt asked. If they did, they could at least try to find a match up that would lead them to their man.

"No sir, it was far too dark." Dawlish said. "But there is one thing that I'm sure of, that thing sure as hell wasn't bloody human."

Shacklebolt pondered on those words as he returned from dropping Proudfoot off at St. Mungo's. Dawlish said that it was too dark to see what the creature looked like, but it had a long tail and beastly glowing eyes. According to the healers, the spell cast was nothing like they had ever seen before.

Just what he needed.

Not only did he have to keep up with the pretense that he was chasing after the mass murdering, (albeit falsely accused) Sirius Black, but also he also had to deal with the results of the Triwizard fiasco from last year, that resulted in the heavily denied return of the darkest wizard of their time, AND he still had his duties towards the Order of the Phoenix, which included spying from within the Ministry. Now he had to add a portal opening, anomaly causing, and never-before-seen dark creature in the loose?

Dumbledore was going to love this.

…

The next morning Zidane woke up from within the empty department he found/broke into the night before. At first he was startled when he realized he was no longer sleeping next to Garnet, but then yesterday's events came rushing back. He had no idea where he was. He was starting to think this place wasn't even on Gaia. As much as he hated the thought, he had to be realistic to himself. No city in Gaia or Terra was this big, and judging by what he saw last night, then this place was much, much larger. This place also had some weird pieces of machinery, they had things like air cabs, but besides large public ones, they were also smaller personalized ones all rolling down the streets on four wheels. They let out some nasty smelling black smoke like they had some sort of engine, but they didn't seem to run on mist, or steam.

But at least he finally got some rest. That fight last night had really taken a toll on him, especially with his injuries, which were now completely healed after a few cures. He was actually quite surprised to find out that the occupants of this house were away. To be honest, he saw it as a blessing in disguise since he wasn't exactly sure what to expect from whoever lived here. Seeing as he was nearly blasted apart earlier, he wasn't exactly in the best mood to talk to the natives.

He got up and headed over to see if he could get something to eat, and at least get some gil, or whatever the hell they used here as currency. He found some food in what looked like a kitchen, to his amazement they had this large box attached to the wall, that when opened, revealed a bunch of perfectly refrigerated food. It had its own light inside and had a top compartment that was very cold, but it didn't seem to need ice, or magic like in Gaia. The wording on the contraption called it a 'refrigerator', which in a way was also comforting, since it meant that the written language still seemed to be the same.

After eating a bit, which Zidane was sure the owners wouldn't mind since they had so much food anyways, the teen headed into one of the rooms, which was mostly white and had what he recognized quickly as a toilet. Next to it however was something he didn't recognize. Well he recognized the bath, just not the snake-like thing dangling on the wall next to the bath. When he tried turning one of the two knobs underneath, water came out. Zidane was fascinated. He quickly learned that he could control how hot or cold he wanted it, then he decided he might as well just bathe. Garnet had pounded that routine in him after he started living in the castle.

'Why can't we have thing like this back home?' Zidane sighed in complete bliss. It was heavenly.

Zidane reluctantly finished and dried himself off. He then redressed himself and got his things ready to hit the streets. He knew he couldn't stay here for long, the owners would probably return soon, and if they found him here when they did, it wouldn't be pretty.

Before going out the door, he decided to wrap his tail around his waist and hide it amongst his belts. Last night before finding this place, he ran into a drunken man who looked at him, and then backed away from him like he was some kind of monster before passing out. He hoped it was because of the alcohol rather than fright. At first he was a bit confused since he didn't do anything to the man, but then he remembered that it was very dark out. The man probably only saw his tailed silhouette and what little light there was reflected off his eyes. What's more, these people probably didn't know about genomes. Now that he thought about it, so far he hadn't seen any other races other than humans, no Burmecians, no Qus, not even a Hippo-person in sight. It would make sense then, that they would be afraid of anything different from themselves. Even back at home he was sometimes called a freak.

'Eidolons this is uncomfortable, how Kuja did it is beyond me.' Zidane thought as he fought against the urge to uncoil his tail. He would definitely have to find a more permanent solution later.

The blonde decided that the first thing he would need to do is fit in. The last thing a thief wants is to stick out like a sore thumb, and based on the clothes he had seen people wear in the street, he would definitely need a new wardrobe, though he sure as hell wasn't doing to wear one of those dress 'robe' thingies. In any case, for that he needed some money. So in reality the first thing he needed was money.

That thought in mind, Zidane decided it was best to find a very crowded place, which luckily, he found very fast. It looked like some kind of busy square. Oddly enough, there were stairs that led underground. Apparently it was like some odd type of transportation that was like the mix between a very long serpentine cab and a gargant. They called it the 'tube'. He did not take it however, but instead took advantage of the sheer amount of people coming out of the subway and into the square to steal from unsuspecting targets. It was actually quite funny, how easy it all was to distinguish the rich. He believed it had to do with the way they looked down at the congregated people all around them. He particularly hated those, they reminded him too much of those pompous nobles back at home.

He was intrigued to see some of the people stop by these long rectangular machines that had buttons and a screen. They would put in a card, press in different buttons and the machine would give them this prints of paper. After stealing a wallet from a man, he came to realize that these people's currency was called 'British pounds' and these people valued the paper prints much more than the metal coins, which he found odd. The coins were not made of gold or silver, but surely even the metal was worth more than common paper.

The thief made sure to nab enough wallets for food and clothing, but he also made sure he did not steal from the common folk, just from those he was sure wouldn't miss the extra cash. In any case as far as he could see, he wasn't the only thief in the crowd. In fact, there were plenty of other pickpockets here and there. He was just lucky that, besides an odd look here and there, he didn't stand out that much. Everyone just assumed he was a street performer. In fact, there were many others characters that stood out far more than he did. In fact, he saw a couple of guys clad in black leather whose hair styles reminded him of a zaghnol.

After he was done with his 'fund gathering', he decided now was the best time to look for some clothes. He found a nice shop amongst the many galleries this place was filled with. Inside he found a wide variety of differently styled clothes and even some shoes. He still wasn't sure how things in this place worked, so he walked up to the dark haired shop clerk that was reading some kind of pamphlet with many pictures of people in it, while chewing on some pink candy that could be shaped into large bubbles.

"Excuse me. I was wondering if you could help me get some clothes, I'm afraid I am completely lost when it comes to it." Zidane said, trying to put his best charming-yet-cute guy act.

The girl in question raised a single eyebrow while giving him a once-over, as if impressed. "Sure. You an actor or something? You sound foreign, are you American?"

'Sure let's go with that, though technically I AM an actor.' "Yeah I am. I just got off work, but I didn't get the chance to change." Zidane said sheepishly, just to get into the role.

"Anything you're looking for in particular?" The girl asked again with a smile. Her eyes however, were looking at him like he was a piece of meat.

"Not really, it's just casual wear. Something comfortable and easy to move in, I guess." Zidane said with a shrug. The clerk just rolled her eyes, as if saying 'typical'.

"Alright then, come this way." The girl said, only this time she has an unsettling gleam in her eye. Zidane winced a bit, unconsciously wrapping his tail a bit harder around himself. He had a bad feeling about this.

And he was right. The crazy clerk kept handing him several outfits, insisting on having him wear them, or more like model them. She had nearly run into him while his tail was hanging freely, but thankfully he had averted that crisis. It was a close call though. In the end and after a complete two hours or trying out clothes, Zidane finally got what he came for, and more. In the end he left the shop with about five pairs of pants. Four being baggy (ranging from his preferred blue shades and one of them black) and the other being a pair of blue jeans (the clerk insisted he would need some and Zidane reluctantly agreed, but as long as they weren't tight like the one she wanted him to buy). He got several hoodies and sweatshirts with designs on them that would replace his favorite vest, a bunch of T-shirts since he disliked the long sleeved ones, a pair of sneakers and a pair of boots, socks, and underwear as well. Finally, he also got some thicker jackets, since the clerk commented that the weather would get much colder later around October. Apparently, Zidane was lucky that he arrived when he did.

Zidane left the shop wearing a new outfit while his old clothes and everything else were put in shopping bags. He admitted that these new clothes were pretty comfortable, much more than he thought they would be. He wasn't accustomed to owning so many clothes. In Gaia most people owned one or two sets of clothes and maybe formal wear if they were lucky. He had just gone along and bought as much because he didn't want to stand out.

Thankfully, this world's fashion was one he could agree with. In fact, his current outfit wasn't all that different. It looked more like this world's version of what he would normally wear, only far more comfortable. The only things he would miss would be his vest and neck piece, everything else didn't stand out as much and could be worn with his new clothes, even his old boots and gloves. As for his ponytail, he decided to tie his ribbon around so it looked more like a hair tie, than a bow.

He was also quite happy that he could still use his thief gloves in this outfit, truth be told, he had been wearing them for so long, he actually felt naked without them, and not in a good way. They didn't just protect his hands; they were almost a part of his essence. If he could recall correctly when he started wearing gloves, he would say it started when the Boss was teaching him how to steal. But the real reason he stopped taking them off afterwards was because of the jabs the others would make, saying he had girly hands. That, and he had the habit of accidentally scratching others. Looking back, he could now say that it was another one of those 'genome' things. At first glance, anyone wouldn't see anything different about his hand, but if you really took the time to look, you would notice his nails, which were called 'feminine' by others, were deceivingly sharp and also very tough.

Zidane took a bite out of his burger as he walked around to find out more about this city. He had just discovered the wonders of fast food. Though the taste wasn't exactly top cuisine, it was still much better than most of the stuff he ate as a kid, and strangely addicting. It was also cheap, fast to prepare, and easy to carry around and eat with your hands. It was however, very fattening, which the thief didn't really mind since he needed as much energy as he could get his hands on.

That same day he decided he had more than enough money left to spend on lodging. He recently discovered what alarms and security systems were like over here, and he DID NOT want to risk getting caught. The idea of machines that serve solely for watching you and this 'big brother' thing kinda freaked the shit out of him a little. Instead he was able to find a nice, small, affordable inn, to spend the week at.

In the following days he learned a few other things about this place. Particularly from a large library he found. He was most definitely not on Gaia, a revelation that had been a hard pill to swallow. The world he was in was called 'Earth' which only had one moon. He was currently in a city called 'London' which was located in 'England', meaning that these people were called 'English' like the language, and not 'limeys' as he heard other people call them. England is located in a sort of separate continent (that's the only thing he could describe it as) called 'Great Britain'. The country itself seemed to be bigger though, and confusingly enough, was called 'The Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland'. Why they simply didn't use the same name for the country and its capital was beyond him.

Oh and there was one more thing. It was 1995 here, not 1800 like it was the last time he bothered to check a calendar. Either these people started recording history before those in Gaia, or he managed to travel 195 years into the future. He was dearly hoping for the first alternative.

'If not, then congratulations! You're 211and still young.' Zidane thought sarcastically.

There was one thing in Zidane's mind that continued to bug him throughout the day though. He had spent so long just looking around in the streets and he had yet to see another group like the one that attacked him. Likewise, he had yet to see any signs that magic was commonly used here, most of this world got by using technology, but it was as if they completely forgot about magic. There were a few magic shows and tricks though, but he knew those were your typical sleight of hand. The only sign he saw that real magic existed were those people with the sticks. He couldn't even feel any magic in the air around him like he could back in Gaia.

It was a bit depressing.

And now that he had the basics of food, water, and shelter, Zidane thought now was the time figure this whole mess out. He sat cross legged on the floor of an empty building that although structurally sound, was going to be torn down to make way for a bigger building. Sneaking in here was painfully easy, and since most people don't usually go inside condemned buildings, it was the perfect place to practice.

On his lap he had one of the three books that he had brought with him. This one in particular was the one Mikoto gave him. It was written in Terran and contained a several notes on spell casting, as well as a few spells that were lost to Gaia. At first he had told Mikoto he couldn't understand Terran, but as it turned out, he could. The strange, yet familiar symbols struck a chord inside him. In his mind the words just clicked. Mikoto said the knowledge was all there in his head. He just had to reach out for it. And she was right, after a few tries, Zidane found himself remembering the language. Apparently he had even used it several times without realizing it. And though he told this all to Garnet, there was one little tid bit of information that he kept to himself. He just knew Garnet wouldn't take it well. Apparently this book was the same Kuja used to learn magic, the notes written all over on the margins were all Kuja's work.

Which brought him to another point.

The spell he had been trying to learn was the same one Kuja used to get them out of Terra. It was called 'warp' or also known as 'banish', and it instantly transported the target anywhere. And though it was a bit complicated, Zidane was really intrigued. With this spell, he could safely escape danger, banish his foes, and even appear and disappear anywhere he liked. But it was risky. Apparently it took a lot of concentration and a bad enough error could be fatal, or as the book said, 'send him to the void', whatever that was.

'But noooo, I just had to be so stubborn and try it out.'

Indeed after carelessly pumping magic into the spell, it just collapsed on itself, and backfired. And now here he was, stuck in a completely different world, with a bunch of cross-dressing, stick waving mages after him. He had no clue how to get back, because hell would freeze over and Amarant would start wearing hot pink dresses before he tried that spell again.

'I'm such an idiot!'

And then he thought about Garnet, which made him feel ten times worse.

'She must think I'm dead or injured somewhere. Eidolons, I'm such an idiot. And just when we were finally together in our 'happily ever after'. For Odin's sake, we were getting married soon, and now I just blew it!'

Zidane felt like punching the nearby wall, so he did. The wall cracked and his hand hurt like hell, but he felt much better. He closed his eyes, but when he opened them once more, they were filled with resolve. His tail swished as he stood up and got in position.

'That's it. I'm going home if it's the last thing I do. Garnet, I promise you I'll return.'

With his promise made, Zidane concentrated on his target and shot the first spell, effectively trapping the discarded can in a thick layer of ice.

…

Elsewhere in the suburbs of Little Whinging, within the English county of Surrey, a teen with jet-black, messy hair was currently was currently hunched over while working on the garden before him. To be more specific, the boy's name was Harry James Potter, resident of number 4 Privet Drive, where he lived with his uncle, aunt, and cousin. He was a skinny boy, with bright emerald colored eyes behind black rimmed glasses, and an odd lightning shaped scar beneath the messy hair on his brow. He had the look of someone who had grown too much in too little time, with not enough food to fuel the growth, and yet, the clothes he wore looked much too big for him. They were baggy, faded, and even ripped in some places, but the boy knew better than to complain. And while one had to disagree with the teen's decision of weeding a wilting garden under the harsh heat of July, the reason for this was as obvious as it was true. He simply had no say in the matter.

Since the tender age of 1after the tragic deaths of James and Lily Potter, Harry had been forced to live with his despicable relatives who considered him somewhat of a family 'pariah', and slave. It was more than clear to him that, were he not related to the Dursleys by blood, he would have been left at some orphanage without a second glance. And even then, his relatives had hardly given him his basic needs for survival. For the first eleven years of his life, he had slept in the small cupboard under the stairs, while his cousin Dudley had an entire room just for his toys. It wasn't until after that, that they reluctantly gave him a room. And even then, when he was twelve, he had bars installed into his window, a cat door installed into his door and several locks installed to keep him inside. All of that for an accident that was not even his fault.

Throughout the neighborhood, he was only known as the Potter boy, an incorrigible delinquent that attended St. Brutus' Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys, that of course, being a complete lie fabricated by his Uncle, Vernon Dursley. If he had to say why his relatives hated him so much, the answer was as truthful as it was unbelievable. Though he did not look like anything special, Harry Potter was in fact a wizard. And since he became 11 years old, he had started attending Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There he had made a home and great friends, even if each year danger seemed to be attracted to him like a moth to the flames. It didn't help that he was considered famous. All because he survived a spell that instantly kills, and sent it back to the evil wizard that killed both his parents. Who unfortunately survived, despite his massive loss of power.

Last year had been particularly horrible. He ended up having to compete in a dangerous tournament that was all part of a plot made by the aforementioned wizard, Lord Voldemort, to bring him back to power. In the end, he ended up witnessing the man's return, and the untimely death of his fellow Hogwarts champion, Cedric Diggory. Even now he would relive the events and revisit that graveyard in his dreams. And when he didn't, he kept dreaming of dark labyrinth –like corridors.

And to make manners worse, no one was telling him anything! Even though he would constantly write to his friends and send his snowy owl, Hedwig, with letters. They would insist on leaving him in the dark.

Harry got up from where he was kneeling on the yellowing grass. The hot weather and the intense drought did nothing to quell his rising anger. He knew it was going to get worse though. The recently made bans on the sprinklers made his task of weeding the garden all the more frustrating. Why weed a garden that will shrivel up and die anyways? He had spent less than a week in this place and he already wanted to jinx something with his wand badly, be it against the rules or not.

Indeed, even now as a boy of nearly 15 years of age, Harry Potter could still say he passionately hated this place.

To be continued...

...

A/N: A lot of exploring in this chapter. Also first encounter with wizards, which went as well as many of you would expect.

Zidane always struck me as a pretty resilient character, just able to adapt quickly to situations and come out stronger. He knows what to do to survive and so this chapter was mostly about that. Last bit about Harry was mostly a formality for those few who haven't read the books (I know that you wouldn't really be reading a HP fic otherwise , but still, bear with me).

Zidane will be meeting more HP characters in the next chapter, so look forward to it. Also, reviews are greatly appreciated.

Also, if any of you would like to go the extra mile and help someone out, then please head to my profile and check out the link there. Thank you all for reading.