So, here's the other Final Fantasy VII crossover idea realised. I feel somewhat better about this one, really. Hopefully, this one will go somewhere. I can't guarantee that it will, but I definitely think this has legs...

GUARDIAN ANGELS

CHAPTER 1:

A MEETING AMONGST FLOWERS

I have had many titles and appellations over the years. Hero. Monster. General. Specimen.

Nobody truly saw the real me. Nobody realised that the calm, serene expression I wore most of the time was little more than a mask. I felt resentment for those I was little more than an attack dog for, betrayal at my so-called friends abandoning that which we held dear, and contempt for the man who considered himself a great scientist, when there was a greater example he envied. And let's not forget irritation at that fanclub's antics. Damnable stalkers.

But I also felt more positive emotions. Wry amusement at my rival and, dare I say it, friend, quoting incessantly from that damn epic poem of his. Camaraderie with my allies and subordinates. Quiet pleasure in reading.

People put me up on a pedestal. But I wanted things normal people took for granted. I knew whom my father was, that worthless megalomaniacal waste of space. But my mother…that was another matter entirely.

But when I learned the truth…I did not react well, to say the least.

I won't bore you with a retelling of those events. You'd know that well enough by now. But what you may not know was, even as I burned that town to the ground, and slaughtered the inhabitants, there was a small part of me screaming for me to stop. That didn't want to kill.

My so-called mother was influencing me, I believe. Her grip on my mind, my soul, had taken hold over that fateful week I spent reading those records in that basement. All I know is, in the end, I was a passenger in my own mind, as the rest of me discarded everything that was human and decent about me, and became a monster. Just like those I called friends before.

I have to admit, I cheered somewhat when that puppy fought me. And that boy, that trooper…for all that he thought himself a failure, he did well in ambushing me. I hope they survived, and that girl.

After I left, that monster I once called a mother carved me out, like a surgeon cutting out a tumour. I was left to dissolve in that maddening torrent of voices and souls. And yet, I felt a pull from somewhere. Somewhere far away. I even felt a little push.

The next thing I knew, I woke in the body of a toddler, barely more than an infant. Well, IN the body was a misnomer. I was bound to her, and yet, my advent reshaped her body. And I felt magic, magic unlike anything I had felt before.

I saw those surrounding me, men and women in dark robes, with skull-like masks. The man peering at the girl I was bound to had ophidian features, no nose, crimson reptilian eyes, and a stench of death. He proclaimed the ritual to be a success, that his daughter had gained power, and a powerful guardian. And soon, he would rule over this world, with his daughter as his heir. He would soon sacrifice his greatest foe to further empower his daughter.

I found myself repulsed, angered. He spoke of his daughter as an object, a pet at best. I heard that not in his words, but in his tone, not unlike that creature who called himself my father. He spoke of destroying and dominating, like that monster I once called a mother did…and like my new self had.

In my anger, I drew upon my host's magic, and manifested. I didn't have much time. Her magic reserves were prodigious for her age, but I could only manifest myself for a brief period of time.

That was all I needed.

A few minutes later, a young man, no, a teenager would come across the aftermath. He'd been a prisoner, but had been freed, yet curiosity and the sound of my host's crying drew him to us. He was, I would later learn, the nemesis of the man whom I had just slaughtered, and whose daughter I was bound to. He recoiled when he saw my eyes in her own, a side-effect of my manifestation, but after a moment's hesitation, he showed compassion and mercy, to the daughter of the one who had made his life a living hell.

In a way, he helped rekindled my faith in humanity.

The boy would become a man, and I would learn was not unlike me in many regards. The toddler would become a smart but lugubrious girl, the daughter of said young man in everything but blood. I have to admit, I envied their relationship, but not enough to let it fall when others exposed the truth. I whispered words of comfort to her, and even manifested myself to her adoptive father…no, her true father, enough to encourage them both to reconcile.

But fear is a pernicious thing. I could stem its flow in father and daughter, but I couldn't stop it in others. They were forced to flee their home. But their mode of transport was damaged when they were ambushed, and we were sent out of control into the firmament.

In hindsight, I believe that it was my presence that had them brought back to the world of my birth, a world that I never quite felt at ease in. Perhaps it was the Reunion, the cells of my so-called mother calling to one another. Or perhaps it was the Planet's will, recognising the part these two were to play in future events.

And who am I, I hear you ask? You should know already. But, if you can't join the dots, think of me as a guardian angel.

And this is where our story truly begins…

It was a vision of beauty rare in the slums of Midgar. The house was well-built from wood and other materials, seeming more at home in one of the towns or villages across this world, but not in these slums. Adding to this incongruity was a number of flowerbeds. Flowers of many kinds adorned the area, filling the air with their fragrance. But flowers tended to wilt in Midgar, which made their presence here all the more astonishing.

But it wasn't just the flowers that were a rare bloom. Leaving the house was the figure of a young woman in her early twenties. Clad in a pink dress with a red jacket over it, the girl had a simple and yet elegant beauty, something of a 'girl next door' look. Long light brown hair, braided, framed gentle features, her emerald eyes solemn and yet playful.

It wasn't her beauty that was a rare bloom, though. It was her heritage.

Aerith Gainsborough was, as far as she or anyone else knew, the last human alive with any Cetra heritage in them. The Cetra, also known as the Ancients, were an offshoot of humanity, capable of using magic, and communing with the Planet. However, two thousand years ago, a disaster led to them dying out.

Aerith had to admit, to some degree, she was in denial about her heritage, even if she had experienced her powers on occasion. She was frightened of her own abilities, and repulsed by them. Oh, she gained great comfort from them at times, but they also brought the attention of the Shinra Corporation on her. Their Administrative Research department, otherwise known as the 'Turks', frequently kept tabs on her, hoping to try and persuade her to return to Shinra. At least Rude, despite his name, was polite to her, and in a more sincere way than Tseng. Tseng was coldly professional, faking politeness was part of the job. And the less said about the daggy and casual way of Reno, the better. He could be a good person, but he had a demeanour that put her on edge.

If she didn't have these abilities, this blood, she wouldn't be hounded by Shinra. She would be able to live her life. She was already set apart from the rest of humanity, even after she escaped Shinra's labs. Even when she tried playing with the children in the slums, too often, they saw something of the other in her, and cruelly finished their games without her. Like playing hide and seek, and then letting her stay in hiding alone.

She was tending to her flowers today. She wouldn't go to sell these until later. She needed to let them grow first, and she had sold her last batch for the time being yesterday in Wall Market. She was grateful that Andrea bought those flowers, and for a rather hefty price, for use as decorations at the Honeybee Inn. She only went into Wall Market in between times when Don Corneo was looking for his latest 'brides'.

She remembered what the rather flamboyant, even camp, man had told her. That she shouldn't be afraid of what she was, of who she was. Easy for him to say, as well-meant as it was. He had power and influence within his own sphere in Wall Market. He was trying to give her affirmation, but he hadn't lived her life, any more than she had lived his own.

So caught up in her thoughts she was, she didn't notice the prone forms amongst her flowers until she all but stumbled across them. Then again, they were half-hidden by the foliage. Occasionally, drunkards, drug addicts, and even one or two sufferers from Mako Poisoning had ended up in this garden, so she had experienced this before.

And yet, something seemed different this time. No stink of alcohol or 'herbal inhalants' or Mako. In fact, the Planet was murmuring to her. Not in any identifiable words, but a feeling, a sort of cautious and yet eager anticipation. And then, a concept slid into her mind.

"…You've come from a long way away, haven't you?" Aerith murmured softly, giving voice to the concept the Planet was speaking to her about.

Both figures were clinging to a rope for grim death, a rope that had a scorch mark in the middle. One was a young man, about her age, with a messy mop of dark hair, wearing glasses. She noted a faded scar on his forehead, like a lightning bolt, part-hidden by his fringe.

The other was a girl, her age not even in the double digits. Her silvery hair had a blue fringe. Oddly enough, she wore sunglasses. Aerith grimaced. She had been about the same age when she and her birth mother Ifalna had fled Shinra, Ifalna later dying of injuries sustained not only during the escape, but inflicted on her by Hojo during one of his so-called 'experiments'. Even now, that was one of her worst early memories. What a thing, to lose one's mother when you were only seven years old. She hadn't known her birth father, Professor Gast Faremis, either. All she had was her mother's stories and the sneering contemptuous words of Hojo.

As her hand reached down to them, ready to use her Sense Materia, along with a Cure or higher restorative spell if need be, she halted, her instincts screaming at her. Something was watching her, scrutinising her, and judging her. She felt like she had the point of a long, thin sword tickling her throat.

And then…

…She was kneeling, praying, in the middle of an unfamiliar chamber, on a platform, a man's figure in front of her. But she had no time to see him, before a shadow covered her. Pain, icy pain, and then, a thin metal blade sprouted from between her breasts. Even as she gagged on her own blood, she knew intellectually it was a fatal blow, destroying her spine and heart. She felt the 'useless' Materia her mother bequeathed her falling off, bouncing away with little windchime-like noises, and…

Eventually, the sensation went away, as did the frightening vision, though she thought she heard a voice. A low, gentle, monotone purr, filled with menace…and yet, strangely, approval. So, you are the one that monster spoke of, it said. A specimen and a victim, just as I was. Help them. I will do you no harm as long as you offer none.

Aerith nodded, and used Sense Materia. There were no serious injuries, so she used Prayer Materia to heal them. The magic used seemed to stir them both from their slumber. The young man sat up, groaning, only to start, and then look over to the girl. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice having an unfamiliar accent.

The girl nodded. "I'm fine, Dad."

The man then looked to Aerith. She noted his emerald eyes, not unlike his own. He opened his mouth, only to look up at the plate obscuring much of the sky, like a rotting pizza of metal, as many dwellers of the slums put it. "What on Earth…? Are…are we in the future or something?"

"Future?" Aerith asked. "You're in the Sector 5 Slums of Midgar. The date is August 30th of the year 0007 of [ν] εγλ."

"Nu-EGL?" he asked(1). "What country is Midgar in? I mean, you sound American, but…what kind of calendar is that?"

"Dad…" the girl said quietly. "This is where he was summoned from by Voldemort's ritual." As the man looked to the girl, she said, "This is his world. We're on another world, Dad."

After a moment of staring at his daughter, the man looked over to Aerith, warring emotions apparent in his eyes. Fear, concern, panic, and yet, surprisingly, hope. He seemed to force his emotions away, or at least the panic and fear, for now, as he stood, and helped his daughter up. "I suppose we have you to thank for helping us, Miss…?"

"Aerith Gainsborough," Aerith said.

"I'm Harry Potter." For a moment, he seemed to scrutinise her face, as if he was expecting her to react to the name. It didn't sound familiar to her, though. After a moment, he indicated the girl. "And this is Delphi, my daughter. I…I'm sorry for imposing on you, but…we've come a long way."

Aerith chuckled. "Yes. If what your daughter said is true, then from another world entirely. That's a fair distance to travel."

"…You believe that?"

"Harry Potter, you'd be surprised at what I do and do not believe," Aerith said with a smile. "Now, let's get you inside and check you over. My flowers will keep for now. And then, you can give the long version to my mother and I…"

CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:

So, a post-Hogwarts Harry Potter has adopted Delphini, and has ended up right on Aerith's doorstep. But who is this guardian angel bound to Delphi? I think it's obvious to fans of the game, even when I've shorn the story of any true specifics.

Now, for the sake of this story, Delphi was actually conceived earlier than in 'canon', being conceived around the time Bellatrix was sprung from Azkaban, her birth accelerated by an impatient Voldemort and Bellatrix. In other words, Delphi was about two years old when Voldemort found an old Cetra ritual (as in my prior crossovers between the Potterverse and Final Fantasy VII, many Potterverse wizards are descended in part from Cetra who fled to the Potterverse during or after Jenova's defeat) that would bind a powerful spirit to her. It was basically a variant on Summoning Materia, though in practise, it's closer to summoning a Servant from the Nasuverse.

And, of course, Delphi gets a guardian angel. And for those of you who need clarification as to the hows and whys, remember what I did with Tiamat in my Fate/Grand Order story Primordial Song.

As for Aerith gaining a premonition of her death, while I will NOT be including the Whispers/Arbiters of Fate in this story (they're fine for the timey-wimey bullshit of the remake trilogy, but not for any story independent of that), I have the feeling Aerith has a certain small degree of precognition anyway. Delphi's guardian angel made her feel a premonition of her canon death. Thankfully, he thinks she's a potential ally and not a threat.

1. This is apparently how you pronounce those Greek letters for the bloody weird calendar of the Final Fantasy VII world. Go figure.