Inspired by the challenge set down by Acolyte of the Blood Moon. What if Harry was the reincarnation of a certain green-eyed SOLDIER? Hopefully fast updates, if people like it.

Chapters will get longer and longer each time! Rejoice Happy People!

Updates will be weekly

My Senior Show went wonderfully, only I got sick almost immediately after the stress of the show was over.

Never a Memory...

Inner Fires

Fire was a constant for the young SOLDIER now. Fire in her soul, in her heart, in her magic. Fire sparkled throughout the school in the magic that kept the old stones up and stable. There was fire in the other students, although it was stronger in the stronger students and weaker in others. Neville's was surprisingly strong, and had a hint of earth and wind for some reason. He was like the tall mountains, cold and strong and proud as the wind whistles through the craggy peaks. Ron was fire and metal, he was mako-lit streets and secret maneuvers in the dark.

Harry was special. Her dear friend was fire and wind and power, and bright as a star in her eyes. The fire that blazed in his heart grew stronger daily, and she could feel the heat and warmth of it, and allowed herself to draw closer to it. The young man couldn't tell yet, but she was not the only one who could sense his new strength. The other students were just as drawn to him as she was.

Fire was a play thing. The Rapier grew more confident in her hands by the day, as did the Materia that sang from her wrists and sword. Bahamut Neo, Flare, a Mastered Fire and Wind pair, each with Alls paired to them and growing stronger with each use. A Time and an Exit to round out her normal Magic, and all sang to her with voices of fire and power and wisdom. Wizard magic was only a plaything to her now compared to the Ancient wisdom in the round little marbles. Oh she still took it seriously, even a simple prank-based spell could help to spell out her doom, but her heart was now tied to the Materia she had loved in her previous life.

Hermione blinked as she looked down at herself. That was still weird. Sixteen years as a woman compared to almost thirty years worth of memories as a man were very strange. It was a phantom sensation of something missing, of a different center of gravity, and it made her sword practice than much more dangerous as memory tried to compensate for an older balance and not the one she had now. But when it clicked, when everything came together in a beautiful fluid dance of motion and rhythm, she could feel her heart sing, the fire in her eyes rising in triumph as she danced. She could feel that this was her calling, this was the truth in her magic. This is what she was meant to become.

"Hermione! Ready to go?"

The young woman smiled quietly at the young ginger, his hair shining fire red in the torch lights of the Great Hall. The DA was being reformed, and she and Harry were curious to see if anyone else would should familiar aptitude for old weapons and swords. "Am I ready to join the random masses, many of which are about to pick up a sword for the first time? To become the dew that quenches the land, to spare the sands, the seas, the skies, I offer thee a silent sacrifice."

"'cept you're never that silent anymore yo, you never go down silent."

"Ron, don't make me embarrass you in front of the younger students."

Sigh. "Yes ma'am."

The grin only grew as the pair went to join Harry. The fire of the castle blazed around her, and Hermione could only sigh happily as she allowed it to envelope her in it's warm embrace.