A Titan's Soul and Memories

Chapter 1: From You, In Another World

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and Shingeki no Kyojin is owned by Hajime Isayama. I own nothing. Also, this story will contain heavy spoilers for the Shingeki no Kyojin/Attack on Titan manga and what will be season 4 of the anime. If you are not caught up on the manga material, I urge you to do so. If you're caught up (or don't care for spoilers) please enjoy.

Chapter 1: From You, In Another World

"You are free."

...

Those were the words that always seemed the most vivid of them all. Just three words conveyed with sorrowful tenderness was enough to endure. The manner in which it was spoken held nothing but a belief that it was an undeniable truth since birth. It should have been such an easy thing to say, and it was, for reasons far greater than they ought to be. And yet, they were meant for them. Maybe it was the unspoken promise that came along with those words that seemed strong enough to shatter the illusion - the illusion that the truth was not.

His truth, to be precise.

For what he knew to be real seemed to be anything but a solemn promise.

...nnn

When he opened his eyes he knew exactly where he would be.

"Sleep now."

There seemed only melancholy tenderness in that devilishly caring voice. He wanted nothing more than to listen to it; to let that simple birthright come to him.

...nnnnn

Of course, it had to end.

Kknnn! Kknnn! Kknnn!

Three raps sounded against the door to be followed by a shrill voice. "Up! Get up!"

Green eyes opened at the sound to be met with the confined darkness of what was his room. The single mattress below him creaked as the lone occupant sat himself up and reached for a pair of thick, wire-framed glasses.

"Are you up yet?" the shrill voice of the woman on the other side of the door asked in a more even tone.

"Yes. I'm awake." It really had just been a dream.

"Well hurry up," her shrill tone became more apparent once again. "Breakfast needs to get done before presents are opened. Hurry and get dressed now, your uncle is waiting."

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," he replied as he slipped on a pair of extremely wide and baggy slacks that he held up with a very frayed and used belt as well as a button shirt that was three sizes too big. Pulling the chain for the lightbulb, the darkness was illuminated around him in the cupboard under the stairs where he spent his days. For over ten years he had lived this life as Harry Potter.

-June 23rd, 1991-

~865~

"Oh, there he is! The birthday boy!" Aunt Petunia's joyfully, shrill cry served as an extra, yet unintentional, wake-up call for Harry as he worked at the stove to flip the frying eggs and stir the bacon that would be breakfast for his relatives.

His older cousin by five weeks had just waddled down the stairs and had to stop so his mother could take the obligatory picture of him on his eleventh birthday. Dudley forced the muscles in his porky face to pull up at the corners of his mouth for a smile while his eyes tried to look to the side and into the living room where his father had stacked all of his gifts.

"Happy birthday, son!" Uncle Vernon cheered his son while raising his empty mug of coffee for Harry to take and fill up. "More sugar in this one, boy," his expression soured for a spill as he gave his nephew the task.