Lightning Always Strikes

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter rightfully is copyrighted towards its publisher and creator J.K. Rowling, and also owned by Bloomsbury Books, Warner Bros., and any other publishers that gave us the books and produced the movie adaptations. The thirteenth installment in the Final Fantasy main series – Final Fantasy XIII – belongs solely to the owners of Square Enix.

Author's Note: This originally was going to be in The Storybook of Hogwarts, but considering the fact that not many check it out... I decide to make this a separate fic. Not to be taken seriously, but at the same time I can't help but try and make this somewhat humorous. Although, there will be some points of seriousness in the plotline. It's going to be a bit of a semi-flash forward style story, going through some of Lightning's years at Hogwarts, with some focus on "important events".

Lightning stared at himself in the mirror the early morning of September 1st. His now emerald-tint eyes stare back, no longer their blue variety that put the fear into many an enemy. And his once unkempt dark hair had turned into the same shade of light pink and straightened down around his sixth birthday. And it took Lightning awhile to fully call himself a male (sometimes he still wished he was reborn a female).

Even if reincarnation is dodgy in some aspects; the former woman knew that her/his reincarnation was not a random thing. For some reason, it was foreseen. After those deadly events with the paradoxes in time and space resolved, and the new world that was Nova Chrysalia saved from Armageddon in a mere thirteen days, she/he found himself/herself staring into the eyes of a beautiful woman with green eyes and vibrant red hair, a man with unkempt dark hair and brown eyes, and both adults were cooing.

It did not take a genius to realize that she, Lightning Farron, was reincarnated. Then here comes the crap where James and Lily are murdered, the idiot that tried to kill him died instead, and then living a life of misery and torment under the so-called "loving relatives". If Harry Potter was not a reincarnated soul of a Goddess-touched warrior, Harry Potter would have been cowed and likely submissive by the abuse put upon his shoulders and heart. As Lightning Farron however, Lightning took this as a new chance to live although it still pained him that his sister Serah would be a darling memory. Lightning did not accept the abuse. He was tough. He was infallible (sometimes). Lightning Farron re-trained the new body back to conditioned peak and form.

Lightning also learned that in his new reincarnation, he had access to l'Cie magic, but without the whole Cie'th nonsense getting in the way. Subtle learning and prodding from Petunia revealed magic was real (even though she detested him for being "a no good freak"), Lightning's thoughts to lost l'Cie magic taught him that old skills can be relearned but takes some time. Right now, as Lightning prepared himself a quick shower, his former l'Cie magic were mainly in Tier 1 level only of his primary strengths of the Commando, Ravager and Medic roles (and secondary role of Sentinel, Saboteur, and Synergist).

He was still training himself to properly cast the higher defense spells and the proper buffs and debuffs. The good thing (or good for Lightning) is that the skills he learned while under the l'Cie contract was all l'Cie magic can be relearned if he trained hard enough; certain skills she was good at were still there so hopefully when he was old enough, he can relearn to cast Thundaga.

The pink-haired Boy-Who-Lived knew that lots of heads will turn. But he was ready for that rocky bridge when it came. Lightning was never afraid. He will charge forth with pride and resilience. Even if the "muggle world" was not thriving with dangerous monsters like Gran Pulse or Nova, the research he did on the "wizarding world" suggested otherwise. It's never a bad idea to be prepared, after all.

That's how he survive the abuse they tried to pile on him because of their objective horror for anything about magic.

=0=0=0=

Vernon reluctantly drove him to the train station, and then abandoned to his own devices. The strange ticket he had labeled a train station number that did not exist. But it may have been a wizard's thing. Lightning carried behind him his school trunk and Hedwig the owl in her cage. In their own cages was Snow the yellow tabby cat, and Serah the white cat.

They were strays that Lightning had taken and cared for, and they bonded with him. Often he had to keep them hidden from the Dursleys. Lightning would never allow those monsters to come anywhere near animals (if Vernon's little tantrum was any indication to the next-door neighbor Mrs. Figg and her one too many felines three years ago). The two felines seem to listen well to Lightning's commands. It helps they were apparently half-kneazle breeds and sought for someone who'd love and care for them. And love and care for them Lightning did.

He was dressed in a variant of his previous outfit during his times as a Guardian Corp. soldier but more suited for the male gender: his white jean shorts were baggier, the black boots a bit clunkier in looks but light enough for his fast sprints. The belt was fitted enough for him to keep his shorts up, and also looped through was a side pouch he made himself to replace his old storage pouch, and on his back was a black large holster for a type of weapon. He made alterations to a midnight blue double-collared sweater vest and lined the outside with a white leather finish and added a touch material to the collars. The altered vest was connected by a similar belt around the torso. Underneath the vest was a simple white t-shirt. Finally to add to his outfit was the short red mantle that acts like a scarf which is patched/sewn to his right shoulder pauldron, held securely by a series of connectable snap belts.

He safely made it to the destination, concluding that the space between the entrances to Platform Nine and Platform Ten was the elusively-named Platform Nine and Three Quarters. The hallway was not busy so Lightning made sure he was not seen before moving forward to the wall. Proving his hunch correct, it was a well-placed illusion hiding an entrance to a secret platform not known or seen by the mundane. It also spared Lightning from hearing a family of redheads clamoring about the hidden wizarding train platform.

In said platform, Lightning was amused by the old machina train used. Bright red steam train (or was it coal-powered; maybe magic-powered) with many connected cars with gold highlights and maroon enclaves. He got many looks from the adults with their kids (either magical-born or the muggle adults sending muggleborn children to a magic school in Scotland). Well, he has light pink hair. So yes, his hair color and the clothes he wore would attract some attention. He ignored the strange looks he got as he boards the train on his own, and eventually found an empty compartment.

"Snow, Serah, you two better behave, and do not wander," he tells the two cats as he allows them out of their cages.

Hedwig was fine by herself, the cage hung on a golden hook reserved for owl owners. His trunk stashed in the compartment storage, he sits down with a familiar item in his hands whilst Serah and Snow laze on the seat across from him. The item Lightning had was something he believed he would never see again: his old Blazefire Saber.

It was lying innocently on top the pile of gold in his Trust Vault (after getting past security crap and proving he was Harry Potter to the goblins that run the wizarding bank in Diagon Alley), packaged within the gunblade holster. Even the goblin Griphook did not know what it was and why it was in his trust vault; however he took it anyway along with enough money to get his supplies and stuff for Hogwarts. Griphook did not comment about the thing that was obvious a type of strange weapon and he was eyed by some of the security goblins in the lobby on his exit.

It felt very familiar in his (small) hands, and with a safe flick the weapon shifted from gun mode to sword mode, and back again with another flick/gesture. He has yet to test the weapon, but examining it in secret at the Dursleys Lightning discovered it had a feature not previously there in his past life: a compartment small enough to connect a wizarding wand inside. He swiftly slides the Blazefire Saber back into the holster, and connects the leather snaps.

Just in time. The door opens and several children were looking in, whispering about his pink hair. Lightning ignored them as he takes out a book and gets lost in reading the novel Lord of the Rings by J. R. R. Tolkien.

=0=0=0=

Gryffindor: A suitable place because of his bravery to face the unknown dangers that could kill him. Then again, in his past life Lightning was a fierce warrior. He hid his weapon in his trunk so that no adult would make any noise of him yielding his gunblade on his person. On this journey to Hogwarts, he has met several interesting students whom been to Hogwarts already in the form of two identical red-headed twins, two girls whom were currently in Hufflepuff, a girl named Hermione Granger, and a somewhat intrusive redhead (younger brother of the twins) Ron Weasley.

Lightning did not like the fact the boy wanted to see his scar and then asked if he remembered how he "defeated You-Know-Who". He was giving the silent treatment to the tactless idiot. Such a shame he's in the same house as said tactless idiot. The stares he got when his name was called and he walked up to the sorting hat to be sorted was mainly on his pink hair. Goddesses curse them all: it's just HAIR! So what if it's pink? From what he knows of the Japanese otaku community, they have hair colors much more bizarre than PINK.

At least he was nowhere near that arrogant bigot Draco Malfoy. A smile came across Lightning's face: how was the brat's broken nose faring after he introduced it to his fist.

"Welcome!" Dumbledore's voice boomed out, every bit as grand as his gestures. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit. Blubber. Oddment. Tweak. Thank you!"

Right now dinner was introduced and everyone was eating to their heart's content. Lightning (of course dressed in the school's uniform and the dress robe) grimaced a bit at many of the fatty foods piled on all four tables. There were few vegetable-only plates seen. He liked to eat healthy. But still, he took what suited to his tastes and quietly began to eat, albeit a bit put off by how Ron Weasley ate with little to no manners at all.

Throughout dinner and the following desert (he enjoyed the chocolate éclair ice cream with a side of banana cream pie), some annoyances kept asking him about his pink hair or just try to stare at him and whisper about his pink hair. He would have snapped at them but really, he didn't felt like attracting unnecessary attention. However for those who were attempting to be polite he would make small conversation, but that was basically it.

The desserts soon disappeared in the same manner as dinner, and Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet again. The hall fell silent, and Lightning found himself impressed. Despite looking like a frail old man, he obviously commanded a lot of respect. Looks can be deceiving, after all. You never judge someone based on appearance alone; for it could bite you in the ass later on.

"Just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered, starting with the start-of-term notices. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins, both who just smile and try to look innocent. No one was fooled by the acts if the scowls from the greasy hook-nosed man were any indication.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quiddich trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

A few people laughed at the declaration. Lightning however narrowed eyes at the old professor. He wondered if he was being serious and if so, why something that was apparently dangerous enough to cause death is hidden in this school in the first place? And for that matter: what in the name of Etro would he even declare something like that as if it was common news on the internet gossip sites? This would have curious students to go look for whatever is behind the so-called forbidden corridor. He himself would likely investigate what "dangers" are beyond it and if needed, he would silence it before any fool got him/herself killed. Curiosity can be a deadly foe, after all...

"And now before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it which raised high above the tables and twisted itself into words in a snakelike manner. "Everyone pick their favorite tune, and off we go!"

What followed next was quite possibly the most god awful singing to ever occur. Lightning was not amused. In fact, Lightning wished he could stop this god awful singing by using a Thunder spell to shatter the gold ribbons with the notes and wisp-made words that glitter and sparkle. Thankfully it ended, although the Weasley twins tried to be funny with that funeral dirge they mimicked at the end. Dumbledore looked like he ENJOYED IT; he wiped a tear that welled in his eye.

"Ah, music, a magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!" he calls with a smile on his face.

Thank the goddess it was over. But now Lightning was gathered by two students who called themselves Prefects and with the rest of the Gryffindor first years, they are herded off to their dormitory. There was a bit of a commotion when they were brought to Gryffindor Tower, that Lightning was greeted by the happy calls from Serah and Snow.

And Lightning did not care what his apparent dorm mates said about his cats as he got ready for bed. Snow and Serah mostly slept outside in the shed, safely out of sight of the Dursleys. This is the first time he's allowed them actual warmth and a bed. At least Hedwig found herself comfort on the coat rack hanger in the corner of the room by the window.

=0=0=0=

Ron Weasley was not going to be a good friend if he kept complaining that his young felines were going to keep "harassing" his pet rat. That much Lightning knew. Then again, said rat should have been left at home instead of brought to school. They bring lots of diseases, leaving behind tiny bits of urine and fecal matter wherever they crawled. Hopefully the rat would get lost somewhere.

"If I see that rat crawling in my things it's going out the window."

A bit mean-spirited, but Lightning liked his clean hygiene.

Nonetheless, Lightning was getting used to wizard magic. He sees some of them as useful, but some that looked to have been created for their lazy comforts. Transfiguration was a unique subject, as well as charms. The man, Professor Snape, was an asshole. Yes, Lightning did not like the fact the man had some sort of vendetta against him, and he has never heard or seen the man in his life. He would have enjoyed beating that arrogance out of him but Lightning kept calm and ignored the man's subtle jabs and scathing remarks in the Potions class.

On other days, History of Magic was a bore because everyone would sleep in the class except the girl, Hermione Granger, as their ghost professor drones on about goblin wars. Defense Against the Dark Arts (DADA shortened) was an interesting subject if the man they had for a professor was not a stuttering wreck. He had an amusing thought of Amodar making snapping comments if he was to supervise the classroom.

"Up!"

Today was Broom Training with Madam Hooch. She had spoken about flying, and how to fly on brooms, before allowing the students to learn on their own. The start to the lesson was to command the broom to jump off the ground and into their outstretched hand. Lightning got it with one go.

Malfoy despite all his boasting from earlier this morning about being a broom flying prodigy and evading the chasing of muggle helicopters (he was surprised the boy knew what a helicopter was), he wasn't able to get his broom top jump at his command. Neville's rolled away down the small slope. But, eventually, everyone got their brooms off the ground, and Madam Hooch was teaching them how to properly handle one. She had told Draco off for holding it wrong.

"I've always held it this way for years! I'm a pro!"

The rebuttal from Madam Hooch was, "Well, you've been doing it wrong for years."

It brought sheer amusement to Lightning. The bully's little tactic to Neville this morning was still fresh on his mind. He disliked bullies. Snow also disliked bullies who would tease and pick on those weaker than them. Soon, came the final part of the lesson. She was about to command them how to take off when Neville shot into the air first, the old school broom apparent that it was not for much use anymore. He soon crashed to the ground. He was lucky to survive, and only got away with a broken wrist. Hooch was the first to get to the boy who was cradling his obviously shattered wrist. It looked painful, too.

"Everyone remain here while I take Mister Longbottom to the Infirmary. No one is to fly on the brooms."

With a soft but hard look, the woman led Neville away. Lightning would have been able to heal the broken wrist well with a simple Cure spell, but Lightning did not speak up. Not many knew of his other "unique magical talent".

"Well, well, look what I found. Longbottom's crystal ball!"

Lightning saw Malfoy pick up the Remembrall, the crystal ball that was given to him as a gift from his aunt.

"Give that back, you slimy snake!" Lightning hears Ron Weasley yell, casting a heated look.

"I don't think so, Weasley," Malfoy would say with a taunting look and then smiles as he clutches his broom more.

"I suggest that you hand that back over. It does not belong to you, Draco Malfoy," Lightning spoke up, gently pushing his way through his fellow Gryffindors and up to Malfoy.

The boy flinched a bit. He obviously recalled how he had his nose bloodied by his single fist.

"Then come and get it, Potter!" he would jeer, and getting on his broom, he flew into the air.

Lightning would not take to such obvious bait, but on a technicality, Draco had stolen the item after Neville apparently lost it (likely it had fallen from his pocket mid-fall). He was a bit of a natural flier (or rider counting Odin in his Gestalt Mode). It was a poor tactic by the bully who tried to break the sphere by throwing it with all his strength but Lightning easily caught it as Malfoy flew back to the ground. He was pocketing the sphere away amidst cheers from the Gryffindors-

"MISTER POTTER!"

Lightning turns his head to a scorning Professor McGonagall.

"Of all my years..."

He lowers down to the ground and easily hops off his broom, immediately letting to drop to the ground.

"Mister Potter, you could have gotten yourself hurt!" she would scold the boy.

In the end (and two attempts by fellow Gryffindor sot try and explain what really happened, in which the stern woman would ask for silence), Minerva would bring Lightning to a classroom and ask for wood. Oliver Wood that is, the Gryffindor Quiddich Captain. McGonagall announced to Oliver that he, Lightning (or Harry Potter, whatever) was to be their next Seeker.

Needless to say, Lightning refused. Oliver gawked and looked like he was going to have a heart attack. Even Professor McGonagall was shocked that the Boy-Who-Lived would refuse even though she has tried to lament that he would have been the youngest Seeker in history. Again he refused stating that he wouldn't like to play some broom games and asked if he could head to his next class.

And while flying would be nice and enjoyable, it would be with an Aircycle. And they don't exist in this world because the technology to make one doesn't exist yet. Aside that and the fact Oliver would cast some glares at him for refusing to join the Gryffindor Quiddich Team (it had made news somehow amongst the student populous), the school and learning about magic wasn't all that bad...

It was now October. The month went on like normal, although as a certain day drew closer Lightning was closing himself off more. Oh yeah, Neville, did get his Remembrall back and the boy thanked Harry for it with a smile on his face.

SLAM!

"TROLL! TROLL IN THE DUNGEONS!"

Quirrel stops screaming as he reaches the end of his journey.

"Thought you'd like to know..."

Ignoring the fact the man had banged his head falling forward in a dead faint in the middle of the Great Hall, and most of the students start to scream bloody murder of a troll having broken into the school, Lightning was walking the hallways and keeping himself hidden in case the mean man Filch and his pet grungy cat caught him not at the feast. He never wanted to go at all.

Today was Halloween. It also was the day his parents in this life were murdered by a mad-man who died trying to kill him. He didn't felt like celebrating this fact. Then a god awful smell assaulted his nose and he heard a scream. A familiar scream...

Lightning draws Blazefire Saber (after dispelling the Disillusion Charm he taught himself) and starts sprinting down the hallway towards the source of the screams and that bad smell. He draws his wand and slots it into the weapon, and with a flick morphs the gunblade into its sword form. Lightning hears a crash and saw the backside of a mountain troll, as described in the books. It smashed its way through the door of where Hermione's terrified screams were emanating.

"Fire!"

Blasts of flames strike the beast making a minor burn into its back. The troll's club wildly swung, shattering away the cubical that gave the toilets their privacy for any users, and also smash a section of fancy stone sinks. The troll, angered, turns around only to get a blast of magic-replicating bullets to hit its torso. Troll skin was resilient, and the magic bullets were like hard bug bites. It served to anger it more.

"Move it now, Granger!" Lightning snapped at the terrified girl getting soaked by the spraying water from the broken pipes. She was too terrified to move.

Cursing and jumping back from the slamming club, Lightning had cast Haste on himself to boost his foot speed, and roughly grab Hermione and toss her into a fireman's carry. Still firing the Blazefire Saber, he ran out of the gaping hole that once was the doorway. He kept running down the hallway, ignoring that the troll was now giving chase. It was heavy and fat, but its weight gave it the speed as it moved. He quickly twisted around the corner as the troll skidded past. He sets Hermione down and positions himself in front of the terrified girl.

The troll came into view just as he heard footfalls. But those footfalls were ignored. A bluish aura envelops Lightning for a brief moment, as magic beckons at his silent command. He had shifted from his Commando role to his Ravager role. Then a deadly lick of flame swirls along the blade of the Blazefire Saber.

"Taste my Flamestrike, you ugly brute," he calls out, and sprints forward whipping the weapon in an angle. The troll swung its club first but Lightning was still very fast with the Haste spell in effect. It smashed nothing but stone as Lightning ran up the club, the arm, and cuts down when he jumped. The fire that arcs in the slicing movement made the troll scream out in pain as it damaged its face, and marred its left eye rendering it blind in that socket. With a quick boost, he back flips away and lands on his feet.

Throwing his free hand before him, magic is called to him as the air turned frosty. Then with a thrust of his open palm, he casts a Blizzard spell and impacts the in-pain troll with a bombardment of ice. It was similar to the Glacius spell he read in one of his spell books he owns, but the Blizzard l'Cie spell was much stronger than the wizard's version. Anyone else however wouldn't know they were different.

He charged, but this time he heard the startled cries of adults as the Army of One technique was administered. Heavy strikes with Blazefire Saber, heavy kicks, and imparted sniper shots infused into a deadly but very graceful dance work of foot movement, and Lightning lands the final skull-crushing blow that would knock it out with a very painful concussion and a cracked cranium. It would have some form of long-term brain damage because at the end he had shifted to his Commando role to impart an increased strength to the magical essence he was letting loose.

A swing, a gesturing folding, and the weapon swiftly is put away as his school robes fell back down as he struck a rather heroic victorious pose staring down the silent troll. The troll fell forward and Lightning merely leaps back with a single somersault, evading the troll face planting the stone floor.

Pure silence...

He turned around. Hermione was in danger, and he was trained to be a soldier, a warrior. While young, yes, he was able to get back to his position of strength as his body's limits could handle. The adults have seen him take out a troll with such ease, and with a "dangerous weapon (they'd likely want to confiscate it; he wouldn't let them of course). Hermione would stare at him for a moment, before her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she faints, no longer able to understand what she had witnessed.

Lightning did not blame Hermione for her current choice to faint.

She survived a brush with death, after all...

"What were you thinking? Dear Merlin!" was the chastising voice of Minerva McGonagall. "You could have been killed!"

"And Hermione would have been a victim had I not save her," was the retort, casting a hardened look that struck fear into many a man who would try to flirt with him when he was a woman in his previous life on Cocoon.

"And what were you doing lurking the hallways, Potter?" was the question by Professor Snape.

Lightning did not like the man because he was still antagonistic towards him. Still, he answered.

"Today was Halloween. Today was the day everybody would celebrate with drinks and all sorts of sweets, unaware that it is also the very day my mother and father were murdered by a rampaging psychopath, who couldn't even kill a defenseless one year old baby after taking his parents from his life."

The answer was sharp, cold, and it cut like an iron sword through soft flesh. It made them all flinch at the tone Lightning bit out at them in his reply, except for Quirrell. Then again, the stuttering man was always jumping at the shadows now and then; it's a wonder he's even teaching the class he was employed to.

"Since Granger is safe from danger, one of you can take her unconscious form to the Hospital Ward. I'm going to head to my bed and sleep."

Without a care, Lightning strode past the adults and ignored them.

Yes, he didn't really like this day of the month. It would have been wonderful to have parents, especially since he and Serah never had parents; theirs dying when they were young and he became the adult of the family. But because of a psycho Dark Lord, in this reincarnated life he wouldn't know the love and care of a mother and father. He did get some sleep, but it took awhile before it came to him.

The rest of Year One is coming up next, and some of Year Two. Lightning versus a Basilisk and baby Voldemort? How interesting would THAT scene be, ne?

Review if you enjoyed this unique story.