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.

Congrats to sanitysugar for being the 300th reviewer! Glad you've enjoyed the ride!

Never a Memory...

Interlude: Summer Frost

Everything in life was balance, and the balance was broken. The trio were dancing on the edge of a knife as they tried to gain balance. But in was Harry that was the most confused.

He barely balanced anything in his head anymore. He was having trouble, dancing on the edge of a knife as be tried to find balance between his sixteen years as a Wizard, or the twenty five plus years as Sephiroth. He would find himself torn between different actions even as he trained in the woods around Privet Drive, silver-black hair swirling around him as he worked with steel and magic. His hair, still growing like a weed, was down past his shoulders now, and heading towards the length he remembered from his dreams, more and more silver streaks showing up weekly. At this rate, he figured that he'd be completely silver byt the time he turned eigthteen, if not sooner.

He stopped his practicing, breathing out slowly in the backyard of the Dursley's home. Part of him didn't fit in his own skin anymore, even as he casually flicked the Masamune through the air before un-summoning it. 'Glad I figured out that little trick,' he thought, eyes glancing back to the window, where the curtains had just fallen back, like someone had been watching him. Vernon, after last summer, still hated the very air he breathed, so it was likely either Dudley or Petunia.

Not that any part of him cared. Harry was pulling away on purpose to protect them, and Sephiroth was only worried about if they would get out of the house before the wards fell. No matter what Wutai had said about him, he had never killed non-combatants, and he was no about to start now, even if this was a new life.

Harry shook his head, hand pressing against the scar, trying to slip back into his own mind and ease the low-level throbbing that had become a constant this summer. But then, what was his own mind anymore? Hermione and Ron didn't seem to have this sort of problem, but Harry sometimes felt like he was losing himself in what was and old memories of blood and death and green and puppet...

"Harry?"

The young man blinked, never knowing that his pupils were going from slits back to a normal round, looking back at the door to see Dudley tentatively offering what seemed to be a glass of water. "I, thought you might, need it," the bigger boy offered. Granted, the diet seemed to have finally kicked in, and instead of baby whale, he was now only the size of a baby elephant. Still big, but getting better.

He tilted his head at his cousin slightly, wondering what was going through his mind, but accepted the glass after a minute. It was ice cold in his hand, and he could already feel the beading of water building up on the outside. He wasn't sure what to say, but the General seemed to take over long enough to offer the other boy a curt nod. Dudley seemed to smile for half a second before ducking back into the house in order to sit in front of one of the fans.

Damn. He hadn't meant to act like that! Harry breathed out hard through his teeth, sitting down on the stoop, glass pressed against his forehead for a moment in order to savor the coolness against his skin. He took a deep quaff, savoring the feeling of it rushing down his throat and hitting his stomach, before setting it down next to him and crossing his legs. Meditation had become easy after all the time he had spent on it this year, and now, he was going to use it to try and separate the memories of his two lives instead of diving for more.

But everything in his mind was in shades of green and gold, red and silver, and a siren's song of quick power, if he would only take to time to follow that last little tickle of a Legacy that seemed so familiar in the back of his mind.

The glass of water would slowly evaporate in the hot summer sun as the young man struggled to find balance.

For the record, I blame this being so late on a few things.

1) DeviantArt is addictive.

2) Manly Guys Doing Manly Things. It's a webcomic. Look It Up. You will die laughing.

3) Germany is hot. Germany is VERY does not believe in AC, therefor I have no AC, and no fans yet. My main computer I like to type on produces a LOT of heat. I'm finishing this now before the weekend, when it will hit a good solid 100 degrees. Now, imagine trying to sleep, let alone anything else, in a hotbox of a room with a computer that is just plain making it worse.

Welcome to my Hell.

ps, am uploading this now, as I truly fear getting sick from heatstroke this weekend. Was going to wait till Monday, so enjoy.