Genres: Fantasy/ Romance.

Special Conditions: I improvised with "witches' familiars" and "magic" and "warlocks" to fit in with the story, changing some rules and pulling some of my own. If you want to read about REAL familiars, Wikipedia has a very descriptive article on them…just don't tell my teacher I was on there...

And Ms. Lockhart is a spinster that runs a boarding house. Yes. Believe it.

How the Idea was created: …I was RPGing with myself at five AM.

Disclaimers: I don't own Final Fantasy VII or the characters within it. I am gaining no profit from this work of fan-fiction.

Warnings: Magic. Familiars. A child being used as a familiar. Witches and Warlocks. EXTREME OOC-NESS ON ALL CHARACTERS' PARTS. You have been warned.

._._._.

A little insight on the AU:

The Ward: The Ward is the league that every Magician is signed up under. Think Shinra Electric Company, or the Romance Writers of America.

Familiars:A companion that witches have with them. In this world, they help instruct the witch/warlock/spell-caster they are bound to with their magicking. A graduate of the Ward's Academy has to pick out their own Familiar and show their competency with using them and magic.

The Rules: The Rules are what Warlocks/Witches/Spellcasters are bound under; they HAVE to follow them.

Natural Spellcasters: Are gifted with the natural ability to cast/transmit/transfer magic. Magic comes as easily as breathing to them. Sephiroth suspects that Cloud is a Natural Spell-caster.

Warlock:A male witch.

Carriages:Yes, they live in a world of magic and spell-casting and the sort…and they still use regular carriages and horses. Think The Bartimaeus Trilogy. (I LOVE that series. If you haven't read it…DO.)

._._._.

What Familiarity Breeds

A Familiar Final Fantasy VII Fan-Fiction

._._._.

Summary: On second thought, getting a Boy as a Familiar wasn't that great of an idea…

._._._.

PART I: PURCHASE

Sephiroth was outraged.

The shopkeeper was doing all he could to help him, sure, if simpering and complimenting Sephiroth's shoes was helping anything. Sephiroth faced facts, though; the man's store didn't suit his needs.

There was just the matter of getting out, now.

"B-But sir!" The shopkeeper practically snarled, throwing himself in front of Sephiroth. "Surely, we have something you need!"

Sephiroth raised an eyebrow, playing a cool cover. Inside, though, he was personally confused. He was new to this. How the bloody hell was he supposed to know whether or not birds were better for Familiars than dogs? He should've just brought Angeal along when he offered. He was happy with his Familiar.

That would've been against the Rules, though. All warlocks, once registered with the Ward, picked out their own Familiars. Any mistake was their own. Angeal was just the sort that broke those rules. Inwardly, Sephiroth cursed. He should've just brought him along. Angeal always had the information you needed.

But, unfortunately, he hadn't.

Sephiroth was on his own.

And this shopkeeper was going to be on the receiving end of some powerful new magic if he did NOT let go of Sephiroth's sleeve.

"Please, sir," the shopkeeper said with an obnoxiously fake sniffle, "Just look at our new wares. If they don't satisfy you, then feel free to leave."

Sephiroth sighed, looking at the door and then back at the man's face. "Lead the way," he finally said, falling into step behind the shopkeeper. With a hop-skip, the man scurried into the bowels of the store. Taxidermy animals peered over the shelves at Sephiroth. One blinked. Sephiroth didn't even blink back. This was normal rubbish. The shopkeeper was steadily trying his patience.

"Here, sir," the shopkeeper said proudly, taking off his hat and wringing it between his meaty hands. "If THIS doesn't catch your interest, I don't know WHAT will."

Sephiroth looked. His eyebrows shot up.

In front of him was a glass window that took up the entire wall. It was dirty around the edges-disgustingly so for someone of Sephiroth's status, who wasn't used to grime-but the center was presentably cleared.

It was what was inside, though, that shocked Sephiroth.

"Sir," he said quietly, stepping forward. "That is not a Familiar."

The shopkeeper laughed. "Don't let his innocent face fool you. That's as much a Familiar as anything else in the front of the store."

Sephiroth looked at him sharply. "I wouldn't agree on that."

For, in the glass room before him, there was a little boy.

He was small, that was for sure, maybe only coming up to Sephiroth's lower chest. And underfed-definitely skinnier than he should be. He had a mop of dirty blond hair, and was dressed as most street urchins were. Knickers that stopped at his knees. A scruffy shirt. A little plaid overcoat. A hat-maybe that went with the poor ensemble-was lying somewhere at his feet. What struck Sephiroth most, though-more than the abuse and obvious squalor that the child was living in-were his eyes. Blue and deep, they stared into Sephiroth's with unflinching curiosity. And they glowed. Even through the baby-innocence that Sephiroth could clearly see, they glowed with some untold power.

Sephiroth was searching for power…

"Trust me, sir," the shopkeeper wheezed, wiping his eyes, "He's a Familiar. He was sold to me fair and square."

The boy, still staring curiously, came up to the glass, reaching out and putting his small, grubby hand against it. He tilted his head to the side, studying Sephiroth. Sephiroth stepped forward and put his hand on the glass, too, dwarfing the child's palm. They stared at each other.

"Is it legal?" Sephiroth rasped.

"What, sir?"

"Is it legal," Sephiroth snapped. "To have a…child…as a Familiar."

The man looked at him for a long time. "As legal as you'd want it to be," he replied. "The constable won't say anything. People can have most anything for a Familiar these days." He coughed, glancing up at Sephiroth from the corner of his eyes. "Does this mean you are, erm…interested?"

Sephiroth, rather inelegantly, blew out his cheeks, looking at the little boy in the glass room again.

Moments later, the child was out and standing next to Sephiroth at the counter, glancing curiously around the shop as Sephiroth argued prices.

"He's a boy, not an animal," Sephiroth growled. "He doesn't have any papers?"

Sneering back, the man tossed a sheaf of papers on the counter. "A birth certificate, weight, age, and date of birth. No parents' names or a name of his own. All perfectly legal."

"Of course," Sephiroth muttered, adjusting his top hat and wincing as he discovered the boy clinging to his arm. He leaned close to the man. "Trust me, however," he said sharply, "If I discover anything underhanded in any way about how you acquired this child, I will place the blame on you."

The man raised his eyebrows, counting out his money. "Blame away, sir."

Sephiroth's temper flared. "Come, Boy," he barked. "We should be off for home." With a swish of his coat and a scamper on the child's part, off they went.

._._._.

Once outside of the shop, the boy's eyes widened as he turned round and round, trying to take in the sights around him.

"Outside?" he said breathlessly, first thing. Sephiroth examined him, and pulled his coat-threatening to wrap around the twirling boy-away from him.

"Yes, we're outside," Sephiroth said. He caught the boy by his shoulders, turning him forward. As his eyes continued to wander, he exasperatedly waved a gloved hand in front of his face. "Listen. Look at me, Boy."

The boy looked up, smiling sweetly at him. Sephiroth ignored this. "Listen here, child," he said, "You now belong to me. You are my Familiar."

The child tilted his head, but said nothing.

"That means that you must listen to me," Sephiroth continued-sure that the boy was listening to him. "I have to find out your magical skills, if any…"

"Why do you wear that?" the boy asked suddenly, pointing at Sephiroth's head.

Sephiroth stilled. "What?"

"T…This!" The boy managed to hop up, clipping the rim of Sephiroth's top hat. "Why are you wearing it?"

"W-Well," Sephiroth said, floundering for a moment, "Because it looks nice, and-and-and warlocks here usually wear them. It makes sure people know who I am."

The child's face turned sad. "But how do you feel stuff with your head?"

Sephiroth stared at him.

"You know," the child prompted. "Sometimes you get all tingly through your head, and it helps you know stuff. Like how to make a fire with your fingers." He pulled a face. "They gave me something like yours-" He pointed to Sephiroth's hat again, "But it made my head feel funny and the tingles hurt instead. So I took it off." He looked concerned. "Doesn't it hurt you, too?"

Sephiroth continued to look at him. "No," he said slowly, "It doesn't."

The boy immediately brightened. "Oh, then that's good."

"Listen, Boy," Sephiroth said, trying to steer back to the subject at hand, "I need to know whether or not you have any magical abilities."

"I like magic," the child replied, scuffling his feet. Sephiroth suddenly noticed that he was barefoot. Where were his shoes? "But I'm not supposed to use it too much."

He had to get home and sort this out, Sephiroth realized. This child couldn't tell him anything. With an exasperated sigh, he took the child gingerly by the shoulder, steering him down the street.

"Man," the boy said, "What am I supposed to call you?"

Sephiroth gave him a cursory glance. "You may call me Sir." Usually Familiars called their owners Master, but…it was a child.

The boy was quiet for a moment. "What do you call me, then?"

Sephiroth thought. "Boy."

"No, no," the child shook his head. "Aren't I supposed to have a name?"

"You don't have a name?"

"No, Sir."

"Well…you can pick out one for yourself."

"Really?"

"Yes. Just think of something you really, really like."

The child's head swiveled, taking in the sight of the street. "What's this?" he asked suddenly, pointing at the side of a building they passed. Sephiroth turned and looked.

"That's a brick," he said curtly, guiding the trailing boy around a cart.

"Can I be named that?" the child asked plaintively, reaching out to trail a hand along the building.

"No," Sephiroth said. "That's an idiotic name."

"Oh," the boy said. He craned his neck back all the way, looking straight up. "Oh, oh!" he cried, jumping up and down. A little finger raised and pointed up. "What's that?"

Sephiroth craned his neck, cursing his tie. He caught the tail end of puffy white. "That's a cloud," he said, side-stepping a puddle. The child stepped right into the puddle and stood still.

"Can I be named that?" he asked.

"Get out of that puddle!" Sephiroth hissed, pulling him forward.

"But can I?"

"Can you do what, Boy?"

"Can I be called Cloud?"

Sephiroth looked back at the wide, eager blue eyes, and turned away. "If you'd like to," he said gruffly.

"I'd like to!" the boy said eagerly, and for the next few moments, he chanted his new name under his breath, trying it out. Sephiroth, meanwhile, hadn't realized that he had moved so far into the inner city in his search for a Familiar. There was quite some way to walk to reach available carriages-and he had a curious child in tow. Beautiful.

Sephiroth turned away for a moment, tugging the boy along after him. When he met resistance, he sighed, turning to find Cloud's eyes fixated on a two year old child clinging to his mother's hand.

"Come along, Boy."

"What…what are they doing?" Cloud asked in wonder, pointing towards the mother and child.

"They're holding hands," Sephiroth said curtly. "People do things like that."

"Do they?" Cloud finally trailed after Sephiroth, still glancing behind him. "Why?"

Sephiroth sighed, tipping his hat politely to a lady who passed by, her Familiar perched quietly on her shoulder. "Because they just do."

"Oh," Cloud said. He swung his hands experimentally at his sides. "Can I hold your hand, sir?"

"Of course not. Only babies and lovers do that."

"What's…a lover, sir?"

"Well…a lover is…" Sephiroth thought for a moment. "…a person who cares for you more than anything else in the world, and will do anything for you."

"Can…can I be YOUR lover, sir?"

Sephiroth spluttered. "Absolutely NOT."

"Oh," Cloud said, seeming a little sad. He dragged his feet a little, wiggling his fingers.

Once he'd gotten quiet, Sephiroth allowed himself to watch the boy-Cloud-out of the corner of his eye. He had been tricked, he was sure of it now. Who had ever heard of a child-especially such a naïve, trusting one-being a Familiar? He had taken him in a lapse of judgment, and was beginning to sorely regret it. On the other hand, though…Cloud had said something about making fire with his fingers. At the start of his training in the Ward's Academy, Sephiroth had learned some basic spells. If you were a natural spell-caster, wasn't there a good chance that you could create magic with your bare hands, instead of passed through a weapon of choice? If the child wasn't just babbling, he might actually have a gift. How would he be able to tell, though?

Sephiroth rubbed his forehead. He was getting a headache.

"Sir, Sir, Sir!" the boy was tugging on his sleeve again. "What are those?"

Sephiroth turned, taking in the sight of the carriages. Finally.

"Those," Sephiroth said, "Are our way home."

Cloud tilted his head, examining the carriages confusedly as they got closer. He broke away from Sephiroth as they got closer. Sephiroth let him, discussing prices with a driver.

"Why?" Cloud said insistently, once they'd gotten in the carriage. "Why do we need this?"

"We," Sephiroth said through gritted teeth, "Have a long way to go to get home."

"We could walk," Cloud offered. "It's faster. I think I could make it faster."

Sephiroth didn't even try and get him to explain. "Let's just sit-QUIETLY," he added, seeing Cloud opening his mouth again, "And ride home."

And so they did ride home, quietly.

Mostly.

"The horses, though!" Cloud protested. "They'll get tired! Let's let the horses get in the carriage, too! We could make the carriage run with magic, instead, right? Can we please let the horses in, Sir?"

._._._.

By the time they'd gotten back to the boarding house, Sephiroth was desperately sure that he needed to talk to Angeal. The child had SOME sort of magical ability, from what he got from the constant stream of chatter, but apparently, he didn't know how to use it properly yet. Lord knew that SEPHIROTH himself was still a newbie at the entire magic business-he didn't need another newbie bumbling along with him.

Cloud was refusing to go inside as it was, clinging to the horses and saying that they "didn't want him to go". Sephiroth was steadily losing his patience with the boy, and crouched down to his level.

"Listen," he said sharply. "Look at me, Cloud."

It was the first time he'd used the new name. Cloud looked at him.

"The horses," Sephiroth continued, "Are perfectly fine. This is their job, and they need to do it."

Cloud looked at his feet sadly. "But they don't like this job, Sir. They told me."

Sephiroth looked over at the horses, then back at the crestfallen Familiar. He sighed.

"Listen, Boy," he said. "I can't do anything about the horses, I'm sorry. They belong to someone else."

Cloud looked up at him, silently, for a long time. "It's all right," he said finally, and smiled softly, reaching up a small hand and patting Sephiroth's cheek.

Sephiroth blinked.

"Don't worry," Cloud said decisively. "I'll take care of the horses." So saying, he turned away, walking back towards the horses. The driver, who'd been about to drive off, sighed in exasperation, letting the boy pat the horses.

Only Sephiroth saw Cloud's hand glow blue a second later.

With a wild whinny, the horses reared. In horror, Sephiroth darted forward, pulling the boy forcibly away from the bucking horses, but he wasn't touched as, strangely, the horses pulled away from the carriage and went at a mad gallop down the street. Ladies screamed, throwing themselves aside. Shocked, the carriage driver stood there for a moment, before with a "Hey!" he jumped off his carriage, following on foot in fruitless pursuit.

Sephiroth looked down at Cloud. He was smiling.

"They're free, now!" he said happily, pointing down the street. "See, Sir?"

Sephiroth dragged the boy upwards harshly by one hand. Cloud cried out, but he didn't notice. "What did you do?" Sephiroth hissed. "What did you bloody do, Boy?"

Cloud began to wriggle, frightened. "Let go, Sir. Please let go. I'm sorry."

Sephiroth caught himself, and lowered the boy down. "I'm sorry," he said, kneeling to the boy's level. Cloud backed up distrustfully, holding his arm and watching Sephiroth carefully.

"The horses," Cloud said, still staying away from Sephiroth. "The horses told me. They said that the driver was mean to them. He…he whipped them, Sir." His eyes glazed. "Nothing should be whipped, Sir. So I used magic." He lowered his head. "I'm-I'm sorry."

Sephiroth ran his hand over his face. "Let's go inside," he said, finally. "Before the driver comes back." Angeal better bloody well be there.

._._._.

Sephiroth stepped inside, carefully scuffing his feet on the rug and leading Cloud by the arm, though carefully. It had taken a while to convince the sniffling boy that he wasn't going to hurt him. Tossing his coat on the coat rack, Sephiroth proceeded into the house.

"Don't…you…dare," a feminine voice hissed, "Move any further without removing that…hat."

Cloud jumped, looking around, but Sephiroth sighed, used to this. "Just what do you have against my hat, Ms. Lockhart?"

Ms. Lockhart stepped out of the side room, wiping her hands down on her apron as she glared at Sephiroth. "This is a civilized society, and in civilized societies, civilized people take off their hats when they enter houses. Also, since this is MY boarding house, I have the right to request gentlemen, and ladies, such as you, to take off their hats."

Cloud looked at her in wonder, detaching himself from where he'd been clinging to Sephiroth and wandering over, tugging on her apron. Ms. Lockhart jumped, looking down.

"You don't like hats?" Cloud asked curiously. "You don't like hats, too?"

Ms. Lockhart opened and closed her mouth for a moment, looking back and forth between Sephiroth and the boy in obvious confusion. Finally, though, she said, "No. I don't like…hats."

Cloud stared up at her. Then, he smiled sweetly. "I don't like hats either." He grabbed her hand. "I like you."

"W-Well!" Ms. Lockhart stammered. "How…sweet." She ran her hand over his head, pulling him a little closer.

"Everyone's against me," Sephiroth grumbled, shoving his hat on the coat rack.

"Where did an uncouth man like you find a sweet thing like this?" Ms. Lockhart wondered, letting Cloud go.

Sephiroth gritted his teeth. "He's a Familiar. I purchased him downtown."

Ms. Lockhart looked up sharply, hand still in Cloud's hair.

Sephiroth sighed, stepping closer so Cloud couldn't hear. "The man was treating him like a common animal," he said quietly. "He was in a very unsanitary environment, so I brought him home. It seems like he might have some sort of power…not only could I get him out of there, but I could also use him for my studies."

Ms. Lockhart stared at him for a long time. "Well," she said, "I had no idea that you had a heart, Lord Sephiroth."

Sephiroth squeezed the bridge of his nose. "Trust, woman, neither did I," he said, struggling to keep his temper in check. "Cloud!"

Cloud looked up. He'd been looking through Ms. Lockhart's pockets surreptitiously, and, guiltily, slipped something into the pocket of his ratty knickers. Sephiroth sighed, deciding to let it slide.

"Follow me," he said, gesturing towards the stairs. He started up, but Cloud stopped at the bottom, poking at it curiously with his toe.

"You climb it, for Gaia's sake!" Sephiroth snapped, tugging at his arm.

"Lord Sephiroth!" Ms. Lockhart gasped, "Were you aware that the child doesn't have any shoes? Don't tell me you were dragging the poor thing about without shoes?"

"Don't need shoes!" Cloud protested. "How're you supposed to walk with them on? They make your tingles hurt!"

Ms. Lockhart stared. Sephiroth picked Cloud up under one arm and carted him up the stairs.

._._._.

Angeal, as always, understood.

Sephiroth explained that Cloud was his Familiar. Angeal's eyebrow shot up, and he turned his head, looking at Cloud with renewed interest.

"Well," he said eventually, "That's a problem."

Sephiroth listened with a half an ear, paying attention to Cloud, who had discovered Angeal's bed and was, with some interest, bouncing on the edge of it. "What is this, sir?" he called, giving a breathless giggle as he bounced again.

"It's a bed, you sleep on it," Sephiroth said absently. "What's 'a problem', Angeal?"

"I've never heard of a human being used as a Familiar," Angeal said. He slid his chair away from the desk, taking off his spectacles as he closed the book of Rules. "There's not anything about it being illegal, luckily for you, of course. But it might raise complications."

"Why do you sleep on this?" Cloud said, finally falling back on the bed.

"It keeps you comfortable. What kind of complications?"

"'Complications' means that you mentioned that he does natural magic. At least, you THINK he does. But despite any talent he has, he's new at this himself." Angeal leaned forward. "A Familiar is a companion that's supposed to guide YOU, Sephiroth. But if HE'S new and YOU'RE new, you're going to be teaching him more than anything. That's going to be like two blind mice leading each other over a tightrope."

"I slept on the floor, and I was fine," Cloud babbled, bouncing on the bed. "Who made beds, Sir?"

"People," Sephiroth replied dejectedly, leaning back in his seat. "Is that everything?"

"You've already made the intention to make him your Familiar," Angeal said. "From now until the end of your Post Internship, he's your Familiar, then. You can't change that." He leaned back with a frown. "That means that you're bound to him and he's bound to you. You've got to work with him, Sephiroth."

Sephiroth blew out his cheeks. "I will, then," he said firmly. "I was top of the class and my Post Internship will NOT be any different. I'll train him, and make him a Familiar-a bloody Familiar that'll rival the President's."

Angeal smiled. "Good luck, then. I have the greatest faith in you."

Sephiroth rubbed between his eyebrows with a sigh. "I wish I had the same faith in myself."

"Whoever made beds, Sir…?" Cloud concluded with a happy sigh, sinking in amongst the pillows until only his little grubby feet stuck out. "Whoever made beds, Sir, was the best person in ALL creation."

And so the Familiarity began.

._._._.

A/N: So, the explanation for this. I had a strange dream where Sephiroth was a proper gentleman in a top hat and overcoat, and Cloud was a little street urchin with bare feet…I dunno, magic just suddenly twined itself into the image and this was born. It's an RPG between me, myself and I. XD

I'm writing this purely for fun, so it will be kind of weird and it won't make sense; just a bunch of drabbles on an irregular basis. XD It's going to be just little snippets of Sephiroth and Cloud trying to deal with their Familiarity between each other. If you want to read along, I LOVE you. :) If you have any questions, feel free to ask. I might try and rewrite it to make a bit more sense later.

Well…review? *hopeful*