Gundam Wing Fan Fiction / Fan Fiction ❯ Peace, Love, and Family: The Story of the Vanuli Three ❯ Enter Trouble ( Chapter 2 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Disclaimer: I do not own any things Harry Potter-the characters, setting, plot, everything belongs to the wonderful J. K. Rowling and whomever else she decides. I do not own anything Gundam Wing-the characters, setting, plot, everything belongs to (I think) Bandai and Sunrise.

Spoilers: This fic contains spoilers for books 1-5 of Harry Potter and all of the episodes of Gundam Wing. This fic does not include Endless Waltz.

Rating: NC17

Pairings: Neville/Harry, 2x1

Summary: Two years ago, the One Year War ended. At this time, the five heroes-the Gundam pilots-disappeared from the Muggle world. Three of them-pilots 02, 03, and 05-reappeared shortly after in the Wizarding world, as students at Hogwarts School of Witchraft and Wizardry. Now, twenty months after the fact, Heero Yuy and Quatre Winner are coming to Hogwarts, and they're bringing all of their secrets with them. The world-especially one Harry Potter-will never be the same.

Peace, Love, and Family:

The Story of the Vanuli Three

Chapter 2: Enter Trouble

Quatre didn't know exactly what was happening. He didn't know who the arrogant blonde kid was. He didn't know who the huge, dumb looking guys with the massive arms were. He didn't know who the tall skinny guy with the light brown hair was-he suspected Heero knew him, could feel the familiarity between the two. But Quatre did know Duo, and he did know Trowa, and he did know that the situation would have to be diffused. And quick.

The boy that Heero seemed to know stepped forward, pushing Blondie-the only one who'd spoken thus far; he seemed to be the leader-and the others out of the way. He stood in front of Heero and glared down at him.

"I knew Dumbledore would let a lot of people in, but I always thought he would draw the line at your kind, Squib," he said. His voice was low, gutteral. Animalistic, even. It combined the pitch of a boy who had just become a man with the intonation of a man who had never been a boy.

Heero growled-low in his throat, where nobody could hear it unless they knew him and were listening-and started to stand up. Quatre stopped him before his butt ever left the seat.

"No, Ro," Quatre said, grasping Heero's upper arm. Heero did as told, but the hardness didn't leave his eyes.

"How did you get into Hogwarts, Yuy?" Bastard-as Quatre secretly named him-demanded, using his height to try and intimidate Heero. This guy couldn't know Heero that well, if he thought mere height would make Heero cower in fear. "You coming for the "Squib Training Program"? Is Filch going to teach you to be a janitor, just like him?"

The other boys with Bastard laughed. Quatre grimaced when he saw that Duo joined in. He was laughing the loudest and most obnoxiously of the six.

Height wouldn't intimidate Heero-either another person's or a building's from which he was about to jump-power would not frighten him, and death itself held no sway over him, but Duo Maxwell's rejection would shatter him. Quatre hoped that Heero didn't notice Duo. One look at Heero took that hope and beat it on the head with a sledgehammer. Repeatedly. Quatre hated it when anyone hurt Heero, and Duo just hurt Heero. Quatre decided, then and there, that Duo Maxwell was worthy of only the highest, most intense form of hatred.

Heero's eyes weren't hard anymore; they were open and raw. Still shielded to the untrained eye, Quatre's eyes were trained and practiced in the art of Heero decoding. Heero was crushed. His mouth was set in a straight line, his jaw barely trembling with the effort to keep from lashing out. His hands lay splayed on his thighs, but Quatre could see the slight tension in his forearms, evidence of the work it was taking Heero to to clench them into fists. Quatre had rarely seen Heero like this, but he knew what it meant. Heero Yuy was well and truly pissed.

Keeping his right hand on Heero's arm, he brought the other up to lay at the small of Heero's back, right below a scar. If things went bad-well, worse than they already were-Quatre would latch onto Heero's robe and hold him back. Quatre hoped that wouldn't be the case because if someone made Heero angry enough to lose control, he himself would probably have already jumped off the "control bridge" long ago. No one would be able to hold him back if that happened.

"Maybe you stole the magic?" the Bastard-Demon-From-Hell-Who-Deserved-To-Die-And-If-Quatre-Got-His-Way (And-He-Always-Did) He-Would said. The others had stopped laughing, and the words seemed to echo throughout the car. Heero's face paled, and Quatre hoped that no one else saw it. Apparently, wishes don't come true, for Bastard smirked. "I can see that I'm on the right track. So, how much did you steal, Yuy? From who? Does Professor Dumbledore know that you're a thief? Ooh, what would your precious Dr. J say about you now, you murdering, thieving, little Squib?"

Heero was out of the seat before Quatre could react. By the time Quatre realized his hands were empty, Heero had Bastard by the throat. Heero was holding him off the floor-no easy feast, as Bastard was quite a bit taller than him-and he was saying something to him in a low, clipped voice. Quatre couldn't hear what he said, but whatever it was made all the blood rush from Bastard's face.

Heero dropped Bastard on the floor and looked back at Quatre before walking out. Quatre took that to mean that he was allowed to follow.

Quatre was stepping over Bastard when he yelled out, "Once a Squib, always a Squib!" Quatre changed directions and stepped on him. Hard.

Quatre knew where Heero would go (the same place everybody went when they wanted to be alone in a public place: the bathroom); however, he wanted to reach Heero before what Quatre dubbed "The Duo Fallacy" happened. Quatre wanted to be near him before he could lock the experience into a little mind-box, deny it ever happened, and leave with a smile on his face. Basically, Quatre wanted to catch Heero before he took a swim in denial.

Quatre sighed in relief when he opened the door to the bathroom. Heero was splashing his face with water. He had a smile on his face, but it was forced and not the goofy kind that Quatre came to associate with Too Late. Quatre would still be able to help his little brother.

"So, what-," Quatre began but was quickly interrupted.

"Isn't he everything you thought he would be?" Heero said, his eyes attempting to light up but failing miserably. He dried his face and hands and turned back to Quatre. "Our Second, I mean. Isn't he just wonderful? Think, Quatre, our middle brother is none other than Harry Potter! It's absolutely fantastic!

"Heero," Quatre interject, but it didn't stop him.

"I mean, just, wow! You know? You hear about these things, and you know them, and maybe you even See them, but it's never really real until you see it for the first time. You know what I mean?" Heero bit his lip and looked Quatre in the eye, concern showing on his face.

Finally, thought Quatre. He was going to say something about what just happened! But no, Quatre was wrong. Heero, apparently, had no intention of talking about Duo or Bastard or even Trowa!

"Do you think he liked us?" Heero said in that small, little kid's voice he sometimes used. Quatre hated that voice. Heero Yuy was supposed to be strong and be able to leap over tall buildings in a single bound and crush the bones of his enemies with his teeth. Heero Yuy was not supposed to be brittle and fragile and afraid of his own brother's opinion of him. Heero Yuy was not supposed to have to be comforted by his older brother in a dingy bathroom on a train on their way to a new school, new home, new life. It wasn't supposed to happen, and it wasn't fair, but Quatre was not about to let Heero suffer all alone.

"Yeah, I think he does," Quatre said and pulled Heero into a one-armed hug. Heero flinched, and Quatre stepped back, startled. Heero had gotten over his aversion to touch a little while back, so something had to be up. "What's wrong?"

Heero opened his mouth and quickly shut it again. He was probably going to tell Quatre that it was "nothing" and that he would be "fine," but Heero's time spent with Quatre taught him something. And that something was that "nothing" was never an appropriate answer to give an overprotective older brother. And Quatre was as overprotective as they came. Anyone who had Heero as family had to be.

"My arm," Heero said, reaching up to rub it. "It bruised when I fell earlier."

Of course, Quatre knew that meant when he had pushed Heero. Now, it was Quatre's turn to bite his lip. He really should be more careful with Heero-the treatment really weakened his body.

"I can probably heal the surface of the bruise myself, but I'm going to need help for the internal portion."

Ahh, Quatre could help there. He had a potion for everything. If there wasn't a potion for it, he would make one. If it could be conceived, it could be brewed. He was the Amazing Potions Man!

Quatre reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a vial. Like some other students-Muggle-borns, especially-Quatre didn't feel right about going around in just robes. It made him feel naked and exposed. Something he didn't like in the best of times, much less surrounded by strangers and enemies in a potentially hostile environment. So, Quatre always wore pants and a shirt under his robes, which was a good thing, as robes had no pockets in which to put potions.

"Here you go," Quatre said, handing the vial to Heero. "Drink half of it now, and if a bruise shows up, drink the other half later. It should heal any other minor injuries you've not seen fit to tell me about."

Heero drank the instructed amount and slid-bonelessly-to the floor. Quatre sat beside Heero and pulled him into his lap. He leaned his head against the wall and stroked Heero's hair.

"It's also a truth potion," Quatre said. Heero stiffened in his arms. Rather, he tried to stiffen, but because the potion acted as a mild muscle relaxer in order to heal, he couldn't. The Claritaserum didn't relax him so much that he wouldn't be able to talk, however.

Quatre continued petting Heero's hair as he wrestled over whether or not to ask Heero about Bastard. This could be the only time Heero would give straightforward, honest answers. Despite their closeness, Heero hardly ever purposely revealed anything about his past to Quatre, and this felt like the past-before the Gundams. Quatre supposed he could always just have a Look, but the Sight was sometimes unpredictable and occasionally wouldn't happen if he really wanted it to. Most times, though, it worked perfectly. In the end, Quatre decided to pursue questioning and stop if he felt Heero getting too upset. He'd deal with the consequences later.

"Who was that guy back there? The tall one with the brown hair?" Quatre asked, clarifying so that Heero couldn't intentionally misunderstand him and say "Duo" or "Trowa".

"I knew him-Daemon-from before. We used to be friends," Heero said. It was muffled because his face was pressing into Quatre's shoulder, but Quatre could decipher what he said. Quatre helped Heero turn over, so he could understand him better.

"What happened?" Quatre prodded. The interaction between Heero and this Daemon guy was not that of old friends or even friends who had a huge falling out. Daemon acted more like a vengeful ex-lover, more like Duo should have than anything.

"Weakness is failure, and failure is death. Please, cut from us our weakness, Dr. J, so that we may live for you," Heero said. It sounded like he was quoting. Heero sighed, and a tear ran down his face. "Daemon betrayed me in the worst way possible. Please, Quat, don't ask me any more. I'll tell you later, I promise, just don't make me say it now."

"Okay," Quatre promised, wiping the tear from Heero's cheek. He didn't like it, but he would do as Heero wished. "I won't ask any more-for now."

Quatre gathered Heero closer to him and rocked, as he started doing so many months ago, when Heero was still in treatment. Quatre wanted to get to know his middle brother, but he already knew his little one. He loved Heero more than he had ever loved anybody-more than his mothers (biological and step), all of his sisters combined, even his father. Heero was Quatre's whole world; he was his family. No one-not even a god-could help him who hurt Quatre's family.

Quatre was still rocking Heero when the door opened and in walked Duo and Trowa. Duo's eyes formed slits, and he glared at Quatre with the power of a thousand suns. Quatre glared back at Duo, jaw set, determined. Duo hurt Heero and was thus the Enemy.

He loves you, so you're safe now. But if you hurt him any more, after all he's been through, not even a bicorn will go near your remains.

***

Harry stared out the door Heero and Quatre just walked out of. Then his eyes flicked down to Rosencrantz. Door, Rosencrantz. Door, Rosencrantz. Door, Rosencrantz.

That was interesting, to say the least. Here Harry was expecting a big blowout between himself and Malfoy-who, as always, had his Slytherin entourage to back him up-and instead, the blowout had been between a transfer student and the most unobtrusive of Malfoy's gang. Harry didn't really know what the fight was about (other than the fact that Rosencrantz called Heero a Squib), but the fact that Heero stood up for himself (and how!) made Harry respect him. Maybe he and his friend (Harry saw the kick he gave Rosencrantz) would be Sorted into Gryffindor. That might be nice.

Harry broke out of alternating stares and turned his gaze to Malfoy. "What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry demanded. He stood in front of Malfoy, his hands clenched at his sides, wand in his right hand. Slytherins were really more trouble than they were worth, and Harry couldn't understand why Professor Dumbledore didn't just toss out the lot of them. Good-bye, sayanora, don't come back now, ya hear?

"This is tiresome and dreadfully boring, Malfoy," Harry said. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Barton and Maxwell leave the car. "One of your friends is on the floor, crying like a little baby-put there by a supposed Squib-two of the others just sneaked off with their tails between their legs, and you're here with us," Harry pointed to himself, Neville, and Luna, "and two lumps of dumb," Harry pointed to Crabbe and Goyle. "Now, what would a smart person do in this situation?" Harry put his hand on his chin and pretended to ponder the question. "Oh, yeah. Run! Now, you shoo on along, Malfoy. You're outnumbered and outwitted, three brains to one."

"We're not done here, Potter," Malfoy scowled, but he helped up Rosencrantz. Crabbe and Goyle were already heading for the door. "I'll get you for what you did to my father." Then Malfoy turned and-along with Rosencrantz-followed Crabbe and Goyle out.

When the door was shut and the two Gryffindors and one Ravenclaw were once again safely ensconced in their car-alone together-Harry fell back on to his bench, giggling furiously. Neville and Luna looked at him as though he were mad, but it just made him laugh that much harder. The look on Malfoy's face! It was almost as if he thought the threats of a dead Death Eater's son would scare him, especially when Harry himself had killed the Death Eater in question.

Harry eventually got his giggles under control. He looked up to find Neville and Luna-Luna, for Pete's sake!-looking at him as if he had gone stark, raving mad.

"What?" he asked, knowing full well what they were staring at but not acknowledging it in any way, shape, or form. After all, it wasn't every day one saw the Boy-Who-Lived in the midst of gut-wrenching laughter.

"Nothing, Harry, just wondering what was so funny," Neville said, sitting down beside Harry.

"Same here," Luna said, settling back in her seat with the latest copy of The Quibbler.

Harry was just starting to get comfy when the door opened for the third-and hopefully final-time. Hermione and Ron walked in, both of their prefect badges gleaming.

"It took us forever to find you, Harry," Hermione scolded, coming to sit beside Harry.

"Yeah, mate. We were about to give you up for lost," Ron said, settling beside Luna. "So, we miss anything?"

Harry couldn't help it. That one innocent question opened the floodgates, and he burst out laughing again. As Harry buried his face into Hermione's robe, he heard Luna say, "More than you probably wish to know."

Selune