The decision to live together was never formally discussed. It was merely understood that Harry was not allowed to even consider moving out of Sephiroth's Tower apartment in favor of his old place beneath the Plate. It was a true victory when Harry managed to convince Sephiroth that it was more practical for him to spend week nights sleeping at his charities rather than commute on the rickety public transportation system.

Although, if he was being honest, spending five days working with Aerith made it difficult to avoid having that dreaded conversation about their mutual magical abnormalities. It was finally understood that the conversation would take place in that notoriously slippery time referred to only as "tomorrow."

Harry's day-to-day existence revolved around the management of his four charities, while his weekends were spent exploring the landscapes of Gaia and his boyfriend's body. He was kept very busy, so busy that it was easy for him to gloss over the fact that he'd lost three months of his life to a coma in which he believed himself to be happily married to Ginny Weasley.

During his final visit to his former brothel (the charities became independent of his income during his coma), Harry learned that Ian and Steve had become involved and were quitting the business, getting normal jobs, and moving in together.

By and large, the bizarre events of Harry's initial adventures on Gaia were swept under the rug and forgotten about. He lived a completely legitimate existence, something that was difficult to master in the still-twisted city of Midgar. It helped to have the President on your side (for purely self-serving reasons of public image, of course), but not much.

Midgar was a much safer place to be following the scare of the Mako poisoning, and the lower population led to a reduction in numerous evils caused by over-crowding. As things were, Harry still carried a knife and avoided walking the streets at night when he could. Tonight, however, the streets could not be avoided. It was Thursday, so Harry intended to spend the night at the orphanage as usual. At the last moment, Zack called to tell him that he was throwing a very secret and very last minute surprise party for Sephiroth's birthday. Harry said nothing, but he knew that the lateness and secrecy of the party were unintentional by-products of the fact that Zack had likely forgotten his superior's birthday until two hours previous.

The train station was only four blocks from the orphanage. Harry whistled as he walked, hand on his knife and cell phone in his hand. He was not too worried about his safety, but it didn't hurt to be careful. It was well known that he carried almost no money because he threw everything donated into the charities themselves, and he was careful to not make new enemies.

When he realized he was being followed, he subtly quickened his steps and dialed Sephiroth.


The fist hit him between his shoulder blades, knocking the air out of him. He dropped his cell phone and collapsed to his knees, gasping. The man stepped into sight. A hand grabbed the back of Harry's neck and jerked his head back and up so that the light of the newly-installed street lamps could fall on it.

"You're a hard man to track, Harry Potter."

Harry squinted up at his attacker, desperately trying to place him, but ultimately gave up trying. It was no use: he didn't recognize him.

"Do you know how much I'm going to enjoy this?" the man drew a long curved blade from his belt and smiled. "This is a custom-made blade, imported from Wutai. It's very special. The Wutainese, you see, are a highly ritualized society. They have strict rules for everything from greeting your mother in law to taking a shit. You're probably wondering why I'm telling you this."

Harry nodded, silently scrabbling in the grime of the sidewalk for his fallen weapon. The man kicked it out of reach without removing his eyes from Harry's face. Harry grimaced as the grip on his neck tightened to the point that he began to see spots.

"I'm telling you because this knife was specially crafted for revenge. But not just any revenge. No, that would be too simple. This is for gutting the scumbag, or scumbags as the case may be, responsible for killing a beloved leader. Do you understand, now? You killed Miles, and so now I'm going to kill you."

Harry frowned, "Wait, Miles Ennico? Or Miles Johnson?"

The man's face turned purple, "You killed Johnson too?"

Harry shrugged, "Well, yeah. I killed a lot of people like you. I can't be expected to keep their minions straight. Do I look like I have time for that? I run four charities, for fucks sakes! I am responsible for nearly five thousand people. I have bigger fish to fry than your desire for revenge."

The man looked flustered. "I…I…"

The grip on his neck slackened, and Harry took his chance. Without thinking about it, he head-butted the man's crotch as hard as he could. Free, he scrambled to his feet and grabbed his knife, which he stabbed perfunctorily into the man's leg. Collecting his phone, he sprinted for the train station.

The doors closed just as the man rounded the corner, and he was running too fast to stop in time. He smacked into the metal side of the train and was knocked onto his back. Harry watched a pool of blood form under his right leg where he'd stabbed him with grim satisfaction.

Someone tapped his shoulder. Harry turned and found Sephiroth standing there with his hands on his hips.

"Unbelievable; just unbelievable."

"Sephiroth? What are you doing down here-"

"No, shut up. It's my birthday. I am sitting in my office, fantasizing about what we were going to do this weekend to celebrate, and then you call me. You're obviously in danger, so I sprint seven blocks to catch a train down here, only to find that you somehow managed to take care of yourself."

Harry smiled, "Did I ruin your birthday?"

"No," he smiled back and kissed him, "I'm happy for any excuse to see you."

As they disembarked seven minutes later, rumpled from a series of highly inappropriate displays of public affection, Harry ever-so-casually said,

"Zack's throwing a surprise party for you, you know."

"Fuck that- let's get back on the train!"

Harry laughed and followed him back on board. Zack would forgive them… eventually.


At the party, to which the guest of honor never arrived, Reno sat glumly between Osbert Lancaster and Rufus Shinra. They were, perhaps unwisely for the middle of the week, well into their fifth round of tequila shots.

"Damn it, why did Sephiroth have to stake his claim on Potter? I can't compete with somebody like that, and I really liked that kid."

Osbert scowled, "You think you have it bad? I was seeing him three or four times a week for almost two months. I planned my entire week around those sessions."

"Well, at least the two of you managed to experience the glories of the great Harry Potter's skills in the bedroom," Rufus knocked back a shot. "I, on the other hand, donate eight percent of my income to him, and I haven't so much as seen him naked."

Reno and Osbert nodded with the solemnity of the very drunk, and Reno murmured, "That's rough, boss."

"Damn right its rough."

They drank in silence for some time until Reno said, "You know what? Fuck hookers, boys and girls. My mother was right: what I need is a good woman. You know what I mean? The old-fashioned kind who won't take any shit, but will still think you're a man even if you need to cry on her shoulder sometimes."

Rufus eyed him without speaking; his were eyebrows near his hairline. Osbert fell asleep and began to snore.


The reception for Ginny's wedding to Dean Thomas was held at the Ministry, as befit the union of the Heads of the Auror and Transportation Departments.

Luna got tired of the crush of paparazzi and old acquaintances, and wandered off to explore the rabbit warren that was the Ministry of Magic. Without meaning to, she found herself in the Department of Mysteries.

Lost in memories of her fourth year at Hogwarts, she wandered among the various heavily-warded artifacts. She went down a narrow hall, turned a corner, and discovered a niche containing a gray sphere with what appeared to be smoke seething inside of it. Without thinking, she reached out and touched it.

The room began to spin, and she screamed as her body vanished off the face of Earth.


End Don't You Want Somebody to Love?


Note: This has been an awesome experience. Thank you to everyone for your support! I would love to hear what you think of the story as a whole.