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.

Never a Memory...

Green eyes were laser bright as the young man glared at the Headmaster's back. The old man had ambushed him, all but ordering the young man to accompany him the one time he had let down his guard and traversed the castle without his friends by his side. He hadn't been given a choice to protest as the old man wisked him off the castle grounds, talking about how he hoped Harry had remembered everything he'd been shown from the memories.

Apparition led them to a small island right off a stormy stretch of beach, an island that was pulled straight from the memory of one of the orphans. Another crack found them on the island itself, Harry stumbling as the rocky shore shifted under his trainers. "Now listen closely Harry, this is very important. If I order you to do something, you are to do it. If I order you to run, you run. If I order you to hide, you hide. And if I order you to kill me, you do so. Do you understand, Harry?"

Green eyes were serious as the young man nodded, drawing his wand from his pocket. The part of him that didn't truly trust the old man anymore was hoping to be able to take his pound of flesh, but the General was coming to the forefront. This wasn't a game, or a training exercise, this was real life, and he needed to be fully aware of his surroundings if he wanted to get out of this alive. Luckily, while he had been caught off guard away from his friends, none of them went anywhere without at least an armlet on, with a full set of Materia. Fire, Lightning, the Summon he first found, a pair of All Materia, various others, including a Seal, Steal, and Throw that he was trying to level. When it came to his favorite Magic, Harry was armed to the teeth.

Dumbledore turned to the young man for a second before nodding at the resolve in green eyes. Old blue eyes scanned the rock wall, picking out carved runes that were encrusted with salt. "Ah. One of Tom's tricks," he muttered before drawing the tip of his wand over his palm, letting blood pool on his hand. "Better me than you Harry," he offered as he smeared the liquid over the runes, wrapping his hand as soon as the rock began to rumble and crack open.

The trip across the lake was silent, which didn't help how very eerie the place was to Harry. Faces were glaring up at him from the water, and never had he wished harder for a mess of Phoenix Downs than he did now, even as the boat scraped against the bottom of the rocky shore to the island in the middle of the lake. And as he was pouring that unknown potion down the Headmaster's throat, the feeling of malice seemed to grow, as if the corpses were drifting closer, preparing to pounce on the weakened old man.

His mistake was panicking when the old man asked for water, the locket from the bottom of the fountain in his pocket, even as he reached for water from the lake. It was only his training that allowed him him to dodge the fleshless hand reaching up from the water, reflex that threw a handful of flames at the offender as he danced back.

Suddenly, the water was frothing with the creatures, and the only thing that ran through his mind was what Hermione had said earlier in the year; cut off the head, or kill it with fire. As if summoned, the Masamune sang as it came into his hand, and Harry's face went cold and still as he went to work, fire in one hand and death in the other.

But the swarm was becoming too much. Desperately, he reached for the magic of the red Materia, figuring that if he ever needed a summon, now was the time. Song seemed to rise in his ears, and a voice almost whispered, 'are you sure?' With a final push, sweat beading on his brow from both sword and magic, Harry pulled forth the first summon seen in over a millennium.

Phoenix across in a flash of fire, bright and pure and cleansing in its wrath against the Inferi. It had evolved slightly since the time of Meteorfall, into something that looker more like a larger version of Fawkes. And Harry could hear Dumbledore mumbling the name of his loyal familiar, the wizard starting to come around from the pain of the potion. With a piercing cry, the summon went to work, fire flying from its' wingtips as it began to destroy the creatures, one by one. Finally, as the last one fell, Harry was dismayed to hear the musical chime of shattering glass, and he looked down in time to see the small red summon shatter into red dust. They would later hypothesize that the summons were just too old, and compared to the other regular Materia, had been used only rarely. Any that might be found fresh grown in mako springs, like the lightning he had found over the summer, would be stronger. The trick was finding them.

He shook his head, saddened at the lost of the summon, but he pushed it the side as he raced back to Dumbledore's side, a small part of him hoping the man was lucid enough to ask for his death again. But no, the old man pulled out a small amulet, withered hand surprisingly strong as he held on to the boy and whispered the activation phrase. The Masamune fell from his hand as he felt the hook behind his navel of a portkey, and before he could blink, the men both landed in the Astronomy Tower, Dumbledore stumbling from the pain and poison while Harry silently cheered at his landing on his feet for the first time.

Dumbledore ordered him to hide as the pair heard the sound of someone racing up the stairs, as if frantic. The young man glared, but dove into a shadowed alcove of the stairwell, green eyes all but glowing as he stared down the old wizard. He was about to come back out when he saw that it was Draco, but the frantic young man disarmed the Headmaster, his grey eyes wild as his wand trembled in his hand. "Are you going to kill me now, Mr. Malfoy?"

"I, I should. I have to!"

"There is always another way."

"You don't understand! I'm his!" he barked, revealing his forearm to the Headmaster. The old man only shook his head sadly, as if saddened by his apparent failure with the boy.

Before Draco could do anything, or Harry could come out of the shadows, they were joined by others. Snape was at the head of the pack, but they could hear more coming up the stairs behind him. "Severus. Please," the old man pleaded.

The man's eyes hardened, wand sliding down into his hand. Just as the party behind him came up onto the landing, he did it. Dumbledore was dead as he tumbled down through the window.

Bellatrix was cackling, saying the Dark Lord would be pleased either way now that Dumbledore was dead. Harry just carefully backed up farther into the shadows, knowing when he was outnumbered and outgunned, even with Materia and the Masamune. As they ushered Draco out with him, he carefully activated one of the orbs, using it in an unconventional way. He Threw his voice to the young man. "Remember. Shinra SOLDIERs Save. Hang back at the end of the pack, we will extract you," he whispered, eyes starting to cloud over with a blue-green light from his anger as he ran after the Death Eaters. He was pissed, for multiple reasons. One, a small part of him had wanted to finish off the old man since his memories started to return, the old man had rubbed him the wrong way. The rest he felt to be justified hatred for Snape, the man who had just killed a defenseless old man with seemingly no remorse.

The Masamune returned to his hand as he exited the doors of the castle. "Snape!" he bellowed into the night, trying to catch not only the Wizard's attention, but the possible attention of someone who might be in the forest already. A Levicorpus was snapped from his wand, but Snape deflected it easily, crowing that Potter was stupid for trying to use one of HIS spells against him.

Green eyes were mako-bright as the blue-green swirled around him. "Oh no, I was just trying to slow you down," he offered silkily, the magic rising even as the other Death Eaters came closer, Bella drawing her wand on the SOLDIER. The magic that flowed from him was the same Limit Break from the time in the Room of Requirement, the sea of green-blue surrounding the Death Eaters as the red of the Laser struck them, one by one. He smiled. "Magic's Glory," he whispered, even as the lights faded and he fell to his knees, exhausted, his shoulderblade-length hair falling over his face.

Luckily for him, the Death Eaters were in no shape to retaliate, especially with Hermione, Ron,and a handful of the DA racing up to join the tired wizard. They had seen the Dark Mark in the sky, and Hermione and Ron had used the Map to quickly figure out where Harry was in order to join him. Most everyone had their wands drawn on the Death Eaters, Hermione holding a handful of dark flames in one hand, and the Rapier in the other, while Ron was gripping both EMR and wand with death grips. But Harry held them back as the Death Eaters retreated faster, Bella calling out for Draco, whom had disappeared the second he hit the treeline. "Look for any who may have been hurt," he barked, sending the majority of the group back inside. Only Hermione and Ron stayed with him as he staggered to his feet and silently walked down the hill to the tree line.

Draco was a few yards into the forest in Zack's arms, a hand pressed against his to keep him quiet. The SOLDIER had been in the forest for a few hours, having called Harry right before Dumbledore had spirited him away. In fact, it was the reason he'd been alone to begin with, as the young man had been on his way to meet up with the fighter. "Draco, we upheld our end of the bargain. It's time you held yours," he intoned quietly, motioning for Zack to relax his hold. "You will be staying with Zackary here. He will train you, give you a way to stay in contact, and then send you back to your father. You will spy for us. Oh, and Zack," he grinned slightly as he pulled the locket out of his pocket. "This look familiar to you?"

"The locket I got back from Borgins!" the man exclaimed. "But, what is it then, to be important enough for Voldie to have a copy?"

"This one IS the copy," Harry offered, hefting the locket. "The diary and the ring that Dumbledore was wearing? Both had a feeling of darkness, this thing does not. I had a theory, that your locket will."

He sighed as he turned to his friends. "I fear this was my last year at Hogwarts," he muttered, thumb rubbing over the locket.

Hermione sighed as she and Ron flanked the other boy, the young woman tugging gently on a silver-black lock. "You can be quite thick at times General. Three Friends go to war. We are in this together."

"We'll meet up again before you know it, yo."

A snorting laugh, and the thin lips curled up into a half-smile. "No matter how the winds may blow, nothing shall forstall my return."