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.

Sorry this took a while, I work on Mondays now. At least it's extra long?

Never a Memory

Gringotts was disturbingly quiet as they marched in, Disguises in place. No humans were in the bank but them, and all they could hear was the clinging of coins, the shuffling of feet, and their own footsteps. Behind them, the Invisibility Cloak was covering the Grip trio, who were trying their level best to stay under it and keep up with the trio. Once the artifact was retrieved, they would disappear into the bowels of the underground city, Materia already in a sack between them. While Harry had managed to hide the Summons and the Enemy Skill, they had forgotten about the Revive, and the Goblins had snatched it up, claiming in in the name of the few others they couldn't have because they only have one copy or a Mastered copy. Hermione's Apocalypse Combo was temporarily debunked, the youngest two Comets going into the claimed pile, but they had kept just enough Fire for her to put together the Hellfire Combination.

Out of curiosity, Ron had created a similar combo, but with the Blizzards. He had jokingly called it the Shiva Combo.

The Trio were in different Disguises this time from their usual forms of their warrior incarnations. They had borrowed three of the Snatchers wands that they could remember the owners to, and then taken their forms. Ron was the gangly young man from outside of Cheddar, using his memories of Reno to force his gait into something looser and clumsier than normal. Harry was a skeezy-looking man from near Leeds, a man that looked like a taller cousin to Filch. Everything about the man made his skin crawl, and the second they finished here, he was going to scrub layers of skin off. Poor Hermione was the only female in the group again, taking the illusion of a swarthy brunette with tree trunks for legs and wild sideburns.

Nothing about this Disguise made Hermione/Genesis happy.

Harry glared up at the Goblin in charge of the desk that led to the vaults carts as they finally stopped. "We want to see our vaults," he barked, eyes narrowing, not so much in anger as to hide the color. Disguise was amazing, but the eyes were the window to the soul, and therefor the only thing that was not affected by the Materia.

Griphook and the others had assured them that the Snatchers didn't need to use their keys, but the wands still needed to match. Ron was Turk stoic behind the SOLDIERS, but Harry and Hermione struggled to hold back sighs of relief as the teller looked over the crossed wands on their robes and merely asked for their wands.

As they ducked back into the tunnel, the group waited for the teller to bring them to the carts before the Grip clan shed the cloak, Harry snatching it up off the stone floor as the goblins gabbed at each other. Almost at once, the teller ducked away into a side tunnel with the Materia bag, Gripknife and Gripsack right behind him. The young General stuffed the cloak into Hermione's red bag as Griphook opened the cart for everyone to pile in.

The cart shot off wildly into the tunnel, and despite the tension, Harry and the others were unconsciously leaning into the wind, the SOLDIERs remembering a time with wings while Ron was reliving helicopter rides when people weren't shooting at him. It was a nostalgic feeling for the three, one that was ripped away with a wash of water that shined with a hint of magic. It ripped the bottom of the cart away with a loud ringing sound, and the four fell off the tracks, too startled to grab for any sort of anchor.

it was an insane fall into the darkness, the trio barely holding back screams as old memories kicked in, the SOLDIERs twisting in midair until they were face-down to increase wind resistance, Ron's Turk training doing all but the same thing but with the cat like grace that was inherently Reno. Poor Griphook was trying the to do the same, the goblins obviously had to have some sort of training for falls, but he was having trouble getting into position, being much stiffer than the humans. Almost in unison, the trio pulled out their wands, magic flowing to their aid as they cast, their speed dropping as they approached the ground.

"What in Odin's name was that?!" Harry barked a moment later as they dusted themselves off from their rough landing. It wasn't until he staid his wand back into his arm holster that he noticed the Disguise had been dispelled.

"Thief's Downfall," Griphook groaned, pulling himself heavily to his feet, ignoring the helping hand extended by Ron. "It strips away any magic, including Invisibility Cloaks," he grumbled, pointing at the hint of liquid silver peeking out of the red bag.

"How'd it strip the Disguise, yo?" Ron muttered, shaking wind-blown hair out of his eyes.

The goblin glared. "It senses magic, even your Materia," he growled as he started walking down the tunnel, the trio having little choice but to follow.

The halls were dark and cramped, squeezing them into narrow tunnels and forcing them to contort into interesting shapes as they followed Griphook into the darkness. They quickly got lost, depending entirely on the goblin to know where they were heading, the male following faint marking on the walls.

Ron looked up into the darkness, eyes following the faint lines of the cart tracks. "Did the Thief's Downfall set off any alarms topside?" he eventually asked.

Griphook nodded as he ducked around a stalagmite, Harry squeezing right behind him. "It did. Getting back out will be a challenge," he grinned back at them, a mouthful of razor sharp teeth glinting in the low light. "but I'm sure The Calamity won't have any problems escaping one of the most fortified areas in the world?"

Harry snorted at that. "Easy for you to say, you don't have to find your way back out."

"We remember Fort Tamblin, and that was-"

"Not, one of us." Hermione laughed, low and ironic as she squeezed past the stalagmite. "I'm sure we could come up with something, but Fort Tamblin wasn't a feat of military intelligence, it was a puppy enjoying himself."

The goblin gave them a strange look as all three mages snickered lowly, then his head came up as his hand brushed against a mark on the wall. "We're here," he growled, ducking off into the next corridor, the teens grateful as they entered the faint streams of growing light.

Griphook didn't let them stop as they entered an open cavern, heading for an alcove in the stone wall, tossing them what appeared to be metal clappers. "You'll need these," he said simply, not giving them a chance to ask why before darting forward.

Only for the question to answer itself as they rounded the corner. The Ukrainian Ironbelly was snarling at them from its place in the cavern, torch light shining off of pearly white scales that had never seen the light of day, iron collar a dark stain around it's neck. Immediately, Griphook started shaking the device in his hand, a loud clanging sound ringing out into the cavern, causing the dragon to shrink back in obvious fear.

"It's been conditioned to associate pain with these," Griphook called as he moved across the floor, keeping an eye on the scaled beast.

"That's horrid," Hermione snapped as they followed, Ron and Harry reluctantly shaking their own noisemakers. Her eyes were hard as she watched the poor beast shrink back, curling up in a corner as they approached one of the doors.

Harry had slapped a Sense into his bangle before they'd entered the Bank, and he activated it now as Griphook ran a claw down the vault door. Lights seemed to blaze to life before his eyes, magic shaping the air, showing him the strengths and weaknesses of his comrades. Everyone was a little low on magic, but he was amazed at how strong Hermione's was, a few steps above Ron's. Griphook was surprisingly strong, is only health-wise. His magic wasn't impressive, and there was a faint glow around him that sang of water; a potential weakness? He was distracted as the vault door groaned open, the gold within shining of magic that sang? Tasted? Felt like a combination of W-Materia and Fire.

"Hold." The others snapped back on their heels as Sephiroth echoed forth, green eyes flicking over the treasure before them. "There's an enchantment on the gold," he reported. "Something with fire, and twinning or dividing. Don't Touch Anything."His eyes flicked around the room again as they carefully ventured deeper, picking their way around the piles as they hunted for anything different.

"There," he finally intoned, pointing at a corner of the room. "The magic back there is different. Dark and Foul. That has to be our target."

Their target was a gold chalice, an old design that hearkened to medieval times. The mages could faintly make out badgers on the sides and the base; Hufflepuff's goblet.

Now was Ron's turn to shine. Reno had been quick on his feet with a monkey's flexibility, and while not at his level yet, Ron was regaining much of that range of motion. He stretched, switching a certain Materia into his bracer, the spare going back into his pocket, and after a moment he sprang into action, Haste activating with a rush. He all but bounced off a small pile of coins, running up and on the wall towards the cup even as the coins shook and multiplied from his touch. A second Materia flared and the Steal activated with an extra boost of speed that vaulted him over a shelf and all but levitated the Cup into his waiting hands. He lobbed it towards Harry as he launched off the wall, the light from the Haste starting to fade. Harry's eyes widened as he noted the trajectory of Ron's fall, the Cup missing him and landing in Hermione's arms. Ron was going to fall into the coins!

The Haste was wearing off, but Ron had noticed his flight path. Riding the last of the Haste, he snapped his arm forward and shot off his fastest casting yet, coating the coins with a thick layer of ice. He landed hard, slipping and falling, never noticing the spare Blizzard falling out of his pocket as he rolled off the pile. Steam was already rising the coins as they raced for the door, Griphook opening the door a the coins vibrated and steamed under the ice. The Turk vaulted over the piles, shoes smoking as he hit unfrozen piles, the clinging sounds of coins following him out the door, Harry and Hermione helping to close the vault even as the coins began to surge after them.

That had been hair-raising, and they took a second to breathe, Ron leaning against a pillar as he tried to calm his racing heart. Hermione recovered first, stuffing the Cup into her purse. "So, how do we get o- hey! Griphook's gone!"

It was true. The Goblin had faded away into the tunnels, leaving them alone with their goal and a hungry dragon.

They refused to panic, falling back on old instincts and newer habits, grouping up as Harry replaced the Scan with his Exit, the one Bonded to the one they had left in the Burrow. Only for the Materia to offer what could only be described as a mental fizzle. They stared at it in confusion before Hermione looked up at the ceiling. "It must be the enchantments. They're much stronger than around Azkaban, and block magic, not a specific spell."

"How the Hell do we get out then, yo?!"

Harry paused, glancing around as if for inspiration, only for a truly evil grin to spread across his face. It was Sephiroth at his most childish, James Potter Reborn with a wonderful, awful idea. "I think I have an idea."

Hermione looked. "No."

Evil Grin Intensifies. "Yes."

"No!"

Ron was grinning now, the eyes and grin of a Turk about to rewire the sound system at just the wrong time. "Oh, Bahamut, yes!"

"You're outnumbered Commander," Harry all but purred, marching towards their escape, wand at hand.

"That didn't stop me before," Hermione muttered, voice filled with Genesis' pride, but jogged after the boys, admittedly curious about this plan. Apparition was out, as was a Portkey, so unless they started climbing and hoped for a miracle, this was still the best option.

A blast of magic destroyed the chains, and once the trio were securely seated, Ron shook one of the noisemakers once, goading the dragon into moving. The beast was panicking at hearing the goad so close to him, and it clung to the walls, trying to climb away only to encounter no resistance from its tether. It needed no more encouragement after that, climbing swiftly up through the bowels of the bank, ignoring the small lives clinging to its' scales.

The workers were calm up above, tallying coins and gems at their stations, a cadre of warriors stationed at the entrance to the mines. The alarm had been shut off an hour ago, and the guards were relaxed, knowing the no wizard had ever escaped Gringotts once they triggered a trap.

A low rumble made a few heads pop up, but most ignored it, used to hearing that when more tunnels were being constructed. But the rumbling got stronger and louder, and the tellers were growing anxious as coins started rattled on their desks. The tiles in the middle of the floor started to bulge, and the Goblins were panicking now as they backed away from the floor, the warriors swarming in from their post at the mine. The tiles finally broke with a rush of shattered tiles, the dragon roaring at it thrust its' head up and out of the wreckage, pulling it's body up and out. A scaly tail snapped out, taking out the warriors even as the dragon aimed it's nose towards the roof, wanting to see the open sky.

The goblins would be picking themselves up for a few days, the dragon a lost cause, the Grip brothers considering it an even trade for the Materia that hadn't been seen in a millennia. The dragon had destroyed the roof, the mages forcing it to head up into the clouds a fast as possible to try and avoid the eyes of the muggles. What they had done would become a legend that would resonate throughout the magical community for generations, a tale of the SOLDIERs that stole the dragon, and went on a rampage escaping the warriors that chased them for miles.

Some details were skewed through the retellings.