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 surveyed the grounds below as the tents and tables were set up, popping into the air like magical mushrooms. It had taken a few days, and he finally had his emotions back under control, if not his memories. More continued to pop up in his dreams, meditation had not helped that. But, he had a core sense of self, a small mental refuge of 'this is me' set up in his head. Yes, he was Harry Potter, seventeen-year old wizard of England. And yes, he had been Sephiroth, General of the Shinra Electric Company SOLDIER division. He was a child of Prophecy, both as the savior, and as the calamity. He was strong, he had a destiny, and it was not going to wait for him to get over an existential crisis.

The Weasley Clan was looking forward to this wedding. After everything that had happened when they and the rest of the order had come to retrieve him last night, they needed the happy memories that this would create. His Aunt, Uncle, and cousin had left earlier that morning. Dudley had surprised him by offering a handshake to his cousin before getting into the car. The Order had shown up a few hours later. Half of the group had taken Polyjuice with his hair (it had turned a bright gold with a highlight of green, and was apparently tastier than the shots he and Ron had taken back in Third year) and split up in groups in case they were being watched by Death Eaters.

They had been. Harry was beyond relieved that he'd asked Hedwig to wait for a few hours in the trees next to the old playground before finding him. With all the spells that had been flying through the air, he had a horrible feeling in his heart that she would have gotten hit. As it was, they'd lost Mad-eye, and George had lost an ear.

They'd been very lucky they hadn't lost more people.

"Harry?"

He turned at the soft sound of Ginny calling for him. She had her back turned to him, the door to her room open so he could see her from his perch at the hallway window. "Could you zip me up?" she asked, hands arching up around her back to try and reach the zipper herself. He was proud to see the familiar pair of leather gloves next to her wand in a small clutch purse she was planning to use. Even with this being a wedding, she and the other members of the DA were staying prepared to fight if need be.

"Sure," he offered just as quietly, his footsteps light as he moved behind her. "Did you keep up with your training during the summer?" he asked as he pulled the zipper all the way up. It was a lovely dress in a green that flattered her eyes and hair, something that Genesis or Hermione could have told him was hard to do with a redhead.

Brown eyes were hard as she nodded, turning to stare the older man in the eye. "Of course. I've been using one of the old trees in the orchard that doesn't produce anymore to toughen up my knuckles." She held up a hand, making a fist to show off the calluses and scars that were starting to form. "I saved a few jars of bruise balm from Potions class to keep mum from noticing."

"Heh, smart." Harry offered, eyes flashing a bit as he backed away a few feet. As Ginny moved, he noticed a discreet slit had been placed in the dress that went up to her thigh, the fabric thick enough and falling in the right way to hide it from all but the most observant eye. Most would see it as just making it easier for her to dance, but Harry saw the flash of dark material, the spandex pants she had gotten used to wearing during training in the Room of Requirement. The modification to the dress was not for dancing, but in case she needed to use her legs for defense. Even her heels, normally unpractical for fighting, had an extra strap that secured them to her ankles, and if she didn't have an unbreakable charm on the leather, then he was a lowly cadet.

He rolled his shoulders to loosen up his muscles a little before holding his hands up to her in a defensive pattern. "Show me."

Ginny smiled, before one of those heels came flying up at his face, the older mage blocking her with ease. A flurry of punches and low kicks this time followed, the young witch driving him back towards the stairs. She moved for one final strike to the face, only to stumble as he ducked away. She flailed as she started to fall down the stairs, but Harry pulled her back just in time. Ginny pouted a little as she firmly planted her feet back on the ground. "I almost had you," she said, arms crossing in front of her chest.

"Almost, but not quite," he said, smiling gently at her. "You are getting good, keep up the training if you can," he ordered gently, before moving for the stairs himself. "I'm going to go help, I'll meet you outside," he called as he descended, Ginny offering him a nod.

Outside, he joined Hermione, the young SOLDIER in a sleek red dress of her own, an elaborately beaded red clutch purse in hand. Her hair, with the red streaks in it getting brighter and wider like the silver in his own, was pulled up in a bun similar to Professor McGonagall's, and like Ginny, her own shoes were reinforced, though in her case it was more for running than fighting. Something about the girl was sad though, even as she tried to hide it. "Hermione? Are you alright?"

She let out a deep breath, just a hair short of a sigh. "I, had to send my parents away. I'm well known, even if only as your friend. They would have been targets."

"That was the only thing you could have done. You'll be able to find them again after the war."

"No I can't!" she cried, turning on the boy. "I wiped their minds! They have no memories of me anymore! Even if I were to track them down, they wouldn't be my parents anymore!" She was practically crying now, biting her lip in a desperate attempt to hold back the tears.

"SOLDIER!" That familiar bark snapped her out of feeling sorry for herself as she looked up at the young General. "This is not the time to be upset. Yes, they will not remember you, but that does not mean you cannot build a new relationship with them afterwards. And besides," he raised a silver-streaked eyebrow at the young commander. "Why didn't you just use a Seal on them? You were the one clever enough to learn how to Seal away memories before, and that could have been lifted later."

She blinked, eyes going cross as she tried to search her memories for that specific knowledge. She frowned after a minute. "Why didn't I remember that myself?" she muttered, carefully wiping at her eyes. Harry could see that she already had makeup on, and she was trying not to smear any of it. "Harry," she murmured as the ushers (all members of the Weasley Clan) started directing the guests to their seats. "I'm, it feels like the night before first going to Wutai," was the best way she could describe the apprehension she had at the upcoming war.

"Well, what was that quote you used before, yo? Three friends go to war or whatever?" Ron asked as he came up behind them, hair pulled back smartly, obviously the work of Charlie, as it was much neater than what he'd been doing in school. "No matter what, we'll stick together in this."

Hermione could only smile at this, a hint of Genesis' smirk on her lips at she reached out for both of her friends. "You both know we cannot stay after the wedding. Are you both ready?"

Ron nodded with Harry. The ginger wizard had his own set of Materia now in a Shinra Alpha, including the ever useful Mini, his own being an old manufactured one with just the one spell in it. He and Harry had shrunk their trunks, everything in the world they owned or cared about the size of a matchbox in their pockets. Harry also patted his arm over the armlets on his wrists, a new pair of Crystal Armlets they had found at the very bottom of the pile. His wand was nestled in the bottom of the armlet, the wood pressed against his forearm tightly enough to remind him that it was there. Ron's wand was sticking out of his boot. Hermione actually patted the clutch purse, opening the snap long enough to pull out the pommel of a very familiar sword.

"Ifrit's Hellfire! How did you get that to work, yo?" Ron gasped.

Hermione almost blushed as she pushed the Rapier back down into the purse. "I turned seventeen before either on you. I've been working on this all summer. I've filled this thing with everything we may ever need."

Harry just shook his head at his friend as the music began. "Well, I guess this is it."

"Onward, into the fray."

"Guys? It's just a wedding."

~...~...~...~

Just a wedding indeed! Harry stumbled as they came out of the apparation, rolling through the grass in order to lurch straight up to his feet. Shacklebolt had sent the reception a frantic Patronus, warning them of a few things. Voldemort had chosen this night to take the Ministry. Rufus, who had given them their items willed to them by Dumbledore just earlier that day, had survived the attack but was badly injured. What had truly broken up the party was the warning that they were coming.

He looked around, eyes sharp as he surveyed their landing pad. It appeared to be a field of grass within stone walls, but he could hear the distant chatter of people just beyond the pale stones. "Commander! What is our location?" he snapped quietly.

"The Tower of London, just to the side of the Raven's yard." Hermione offered at once, shucking her heels for a more useful pair of flats from her clutch. She relaxed a touch when no guards came into sight to inspect the source of the loud pop from their entrance. "I came here years ago with my class. I knew it would be deserted at this time of night."

Ron blinked as the young woman pulled out a few vials of potions, multiple weapons, a tent, and a second pair of shoes that looked like they'd fit Harry before she could find a spare set of clothes for herself. "Odin above, you've got everything but the kitchen in there, don't ya?"

"Actually, I have a sink in here with a magical supply of fresh water."

"Quiet!" Harry suddenly snapped, head tilted towards the tower. "Don't you two hear that?" he asked after a second.

It was quiet, a refrain of male voices at the very edge of their hearing. They edged towards the tower, the voices getting louder. "Ieyui...Pray to us...Nobo...meno...Dream of Fayth...Renmiri...Forever...Yoju...yogo...for you...Hasate...kanae...Bring to Us...Kuta...mae...A final peace..."

"It's gettin' louder over here," Ron offered, edging towards a stone outcropping next to the tower. Only for the trio to stop, a feeling of overwhelming malice hitting them like a hammer. The Tower of London was one of the most cursed locations in England, and many of the ghosts had suffered violent deaths. Those who had been entrapped within had left layers of ill will over the years that formed strong wards against anything, though those with magic were the only ones who could feel them.

Harry was all but sure that the song was a new Materia, and this was a strong one that they had not found before. "Genesis, Reno, cover me," he barked, not even truly noticing his use of their old names, but the pair complied, Hermione casting a strong Barrier, and Ron taking care of the Magic Barrier. It was barely enough, but Harry pressed on through the malice, as if moving through thigh deep water.

The song was coming from a deep crevasse within the rocks, a tiny Mako Spring that was all but dead, the green retreating back into the earth. Left within it's wake, well hidden from the eyes of visitors to the Tower was a bright red orb, the song coming from the summon. And it was a summon, if a strange one. Sephiroth had not come across any summons that involved what sounded to be at least twelve different voices coming from it's signature. At least, not one that Harry could remember.

As his hands closed around the orb, the song faded, as if happy that it had caught the attention of someone willing and able to use it. Harry smiled back at his friends, only to stagger as the malice of the Tower hit him, even through the Barriers. He could vaguely hear his friends calling for him to hurry, but his legs were weak as he inched his way away from the Tower.

"Get, us out of here," he ordered as Ron grabbed him, pulling the young man out of the range of the tower wards. With a twist, the trio popped out again, leaving the haunted tower as dead as it's residents.

I LIVEEEEEEE!

Sunday was cool enough that I was able to type when I was hit by my muse. Like a Sledgehammer of Doom. Enjoy the fruits of my labors.

The tower of London is a shoutout to 'Quoth the Raven, Nevermore' by GenkaiFan. An awesome fic that I aspire to be as great as.