Disclaimer: disclaimed.

Please read all of the notes at the ending.


A little six year old boy was curled into a tight ball. If anyone cared to look at him, they would see the multiple amounts of bruises on his small frame. However, if anyone were to look his way, they'd never see him, for he was curled tightly in a cupboard, covered with a thin blanket and hidden behind random trash. Most would wonder why a child was there anyway, and those with the answers would be appalled.

It had started out earlier within the day, when he was still within the confines of a home. He was cooking his family's breakfast, as he was always forced to do, when his whale of a cousin came downstairs. You see, he'd never lived with his real parents. No, his real parents were dead. At least, that's what they told him. He knew the truth.

His real parents had faked their deaths apparently. He had over heard his cousin's mum and dad speaking about it. They had threatened them to take him in so they could save there own lives, and told them to tell him they were dead. So now he lived here, with his abusive aunt and uncle, and their equally abusive son, hoping beyond hope that someone would save him.

No one ever did.

His cousin, by the name of Dudley Dursley, glared at him before sitting his heavy bulk down at the table. Dudley was a year older than he was and never failed to throw that in his face; literally. He never knew who he hated more; Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, or Cousin Dudley.

"Hey freak," Freak. Boy. He had been called this for so long that he had forgotten his real name.

"Yes?" His voice was raspy, unused except for screaming. Dudley sneered at him.

"Some of my food is missing." His heart froze. How did he know? "I told mum and dad and they put a camera out here yesterday. Guess what I saw?" He didn't have to guess, he knew. He was on that camera, stealing food from the cabinets because he was hungry. Because he hadn't been fed for a month. "You do know that you're dead, right?"

Of course he knew.

The moment his uncle came downstairs with his cord, he knew. And he knew he would probably not live this time. It had led to him getting the worst beating of his life. It also led to him proving himself right. And now he was laying here, halfway close to death, placed under a thin blanket to hide from view. His vision was non-existent; he had lost his sight when his glasses were broke into his eyes. He had no idea how long he was there before he heard the voice. That soothing voice, singing. To him?

"I ye yu I…" He couldn't open his eyes, once a beautiful emerald, but he could hear someone in front of him.

"No bo me no…" A woman? How did she get inside of his cupboard?

"Re en mi ni…" Why was she singing to him? He didn't deserve it.

"Yo ju yo go…" He felt like he was floating. What a pleasant feeling.

"Ha sa te ka na e…" She was freeing him. Why would she do that?

"Ku ta ma e." This...was he dieing now?

"Who are you?" He rasped slightly. The song continued on, a higher female voice this time, while the other voice addressed him.

"Anima." The boy tried to shift and winced in pain.

"Other one?"

"Shiva." He began to cough.

"Why..." the coughing continued. "Why are you here?"

"We have been waiting for you." Anima continued. "Waiting, dreaming...So long..."

"Waiting?" His voice was filled with pain and childish wonder. "For me?"

"Yes, we have."

"Why?" The song stopped.

"Join us, young one." The boy shifted in gradually fading pain.

"Join you?"

"Yes, join us."

"Join us."

"Sing with us."

"Sing."

"Join the Song of Prayer!"

"Sing the Hymn of Fayth!" Silence. They no longer sung. Were they waiting for him? Waiting? Suddenly, slowly, without knowing why, his mouth opened, and the words spew forth with unknown familiarity. Not even his language...Never heard before that day...But sung perfectly...He sung...

"I ye yu I

No bo me no

Re en mi ni

Yo ju yo go

Ha sa te ka na e

Ku ta ma e."

His breathing became shallower as he sung. Even as he drew his last breath, he continued. As his body went limp and his breathing stopped, the Hymn continued. Hunting, beautiful, sad, happy. Forever.

The little boy died.

"Bahamut." said Shiva.

"Bahamut." repeated Anima.

"Bahamut," said a voice like the little boy's. Below them, the boy's body smiled. "Bahamut."


Okay, I'm going to say right now, this is a FFX-HP crossover (with a bit of FFVII, though that will be explained), only involving het pairings, no hints of slash, no slash at all, no femslash, yadda yadda. This story is not a Harry/Luna, but the two are the main important to the plot. Also, this story won't focus on relationships, but the relationships that are here are het. Not your cup of tea? Move along. On another note, I've never seen this idea done before for any story, not even the whole evil James and Lily idea that seems to be happening. Please keep in mind that this story will be full of plot twist and originality, so if you're looking for a love fic, click the backspace and don't bother wasting my time.

Anima's involvement is vital to the plot, if you're wondering why she's here, stick around. Also, this is Part One of a three part series and I hope everyone who reads and/or review enjoys it.

On another note, I'd like to thank a very talented and hard working writer by the name of PhoenixCatcher, whom asked to read my story while it was still in infancy and gave me encouragement to continue. He also does damn good fiction and, though I am a lazy bastard and hardly review, I've read 99 percent of his stories just because he writes them. The most of them are slash or no pairings, but still some of the best on the net to me. I hope people will check out his work and that, if he ever stumbles across this, he'll appreciate the shout out.

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