Gundam Wing Fan Fiction / Fan Fiction ❯ Peace, Love, and Family: The Story of the Vanuli Three ❯ Look, Ma, It's a Gryffindor! ( Chapter 3 )

[ 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 3: Look, Ma, It's a Gryffindor!

Heero wrung his hands and paced the floor. He, Quatre, and Dorothy were waiting to be Sorted. He was nervous as hell. They were in a room just off the Great Hall. They were all alone so it was okay to show it. Had any one else been there, Heero would have hidden his feelings. Quatre and Dorothy were family, though-brother and Naiyama-they wouldn't use it against him.

Quatre was nervous, too. He kept walking over to Heero, hugging him, walking over to Dorothy, hugging her, and then repeating the action. Every time Quatre hugged Heero, he would stop pacing and hug him back. Quatre was a very tactile person around those he loved, and the touch-feeliness always seemed to increase exponentially as he became more and more nervous.

Heero couldn't tell what Dorothy was feeling. She stood stock still, her face expressionless. Occasionally, she would return Quatre's hugs, but more often than not, she just let him hug her. Rarely, she would smile at them.

Heero couldn't see how she did it-at least, not around him and Quatre. Heero himself was eaten up with nerves. What if he didn't get into Gryffindor? What if Quatre didn't? What if Quatre did, but Heero didn't, or vice versa? What about Dorothy? Would it be better or worse if they were in the same House as her? Those questions and others plagued Heero as he paced.

Heero worked himself into a state by the time Quatre meandered back for his 4,283rd hug-but that might be an exaggeration. Heero latched onto Quatre fiercely. He was Heero's comfort, his pillar, his port in the storm. Having Quatre near him always made Heero feel better. Heero's thoughts were cleaner, his stress level decrease, and he just generally felt happier when he touched his First. It was there, to a lesser extent, with Dorothy, too. Heero wondered if it would work with Harry. It probably would, eventually.

"I'm worried. You?" Quatre asked. The two were locked together, their arms binding them in the way of very young children. It made a weird kind of sense, as they were about to go through something usually only eleven year-olds did.

"Of course not," Heero said. "I always act like I'm on a rickety boat in a hurricane while waiting for a life-changing act." He laughed and hugged Quatre harder. What if they were separated? "We'll be okay." What if they weren't?

The door opened, and Heero heard a great din from the Great Hall. A stern-looking woman-she had earlier been introduced to them as Professor McGonagall-walked in and smiled a thin smile.

"We're ready for you," she said, waving them from the room.

They filed out into the Great Hall. They were on a dais, a stool and the Sorting Hat-Heero knew how they were Sorted because one of Quatre's sister's husbands went to Hogwarts-stood in the center. Behind it was a long table. Many teachers sat there, as did Professor Dumbledore.

When he saw Heero's family enter, Professor Dumbledore stood. The Great Hall fell silent as the students listened for him to speak. Dumbledore took a breath and smiled, his eyes twinkling.

"As many of you know," Dumbledore began, speaking loud enough for all to hear, "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry accepts all manners of students. We pride ourselves on attracting new students, especially transfer students from the colonies. I know you all will welcome the new transfers and treat them as true Hogwarts students.

"Let the Sorting begins!" Dumbledore finished with a flare and sat down, eliciting a disapproving look from Professor McGonagall.

"Catalonia, Dorothy," McGonagall read from a scroll.

Dorothy left the cluster the three had made-Heero and Quatre let go of each other before they walked into the Great Hall, but they still stood close together-and walked steadily to the stool. The hat was barely on her head when it yelled out, "Slytherin!" Dorothy smirked and strolled over to the last table. She sat down daintily beside the blonde from the train-the one with Veelaish hair-as the entire table cheered.

Then, it was Quatre's turn. He flashed Heero a nervous grin before walking to the stool and sitting the hat on his head. Gryffindor! Gryffindor! Heero chanted in his head. Maybe if he thought it enough, it would come true. Quatre had his fingers crossed-maybe he was thinking the same thing. Briefly, a scowl passed over Quatre's face, then it brightened as the hat yelled out, "Gryffindor!" Quatre practically jumped off the stool and ran to the Gryffindor table, barely remembering to take off the hat.

Heero's stomach lurched, part with happiness and part with fear. What if he got put in Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or even Slytherin? He wouldn't be able to sleep at night without Quatre there. He'd have to sneak into Quatre's dorm room every night. He might get caught. What if he was? He might get expelled and never see his brothers again. Well, that solved it. Heero had to be in Gryffindor.

"Yuy, Heero," McGonagall said, and Heero stalked up to the Sorting Hat. He put it on his head.

Well, well, well, the Sorting Hat said. Kind of. Heero jumped a bit as the voice entered his mind directly. He had been warned about this by Marty-Quatre's third oldest sister's husband-but knowing it and feeling it were two different things. It was strange. I see here that someone has his mind made up. You certainly do have the qualities of a Gryffindor: quick to leap before you look-quite literally-and that whole "brave" thing. You would do very well there, indeed.

Yes! Heero thought, desperate to make sure the hat knew he should be in Gryffindor. I've done things that would make lesser men cower in fear. I've-

However, the hat said, your reason for wanting Gryffindor makes me consider you Hufflepuff material.

Hufflepuff? Heero scoffed. Why would he want to be in Hufflepuff? They were leftovers, the people none of the other Houses would take. They were-

Loyal. Hufflepuffs are loyal. Much as you are to Mr. Winner and will soon be to Mr. Potter. Your loyalty outweighs all your other qualities. Why, you've even put your life in danger to save Mr. Winner's-

By being brave! Heero interjected. He knew it was rude, but the hat had to see that Heero belonged in

"Gryffindor!"

What? Oh, gods, he'd been made a Gryffindor. He was actually a Gryffindor! Heero's face broke out into a smile. He stood up, at the last minute remembering to take off the hat, and walked over to the Gryffindor-his-table. Heero sat beside Quatre and pretty much screamed. He was drowned out by his new Housemates, who were all yelling, "Gryffindor! Gryffindor!" Heero looked at Quatre, and together, they decided to join in.

"Gryffindor! Gryffindor!"

***

After the Opening Feast-long after-Harry and the other seventh years were in the Gryffindor common room. The underclassmen had all gone to bed, and Harry knew that he should, too. But he didn't want the reminder from Hermione that would come in five, four, three, two-

"It's late, guys. We really should go to bed," Hermione said, predictably. As always, the other seventh years grumbled and complained. The only two who didn't were Heero and Quatre. And that was only because they were new and didn't know her yet.

Harry was oddly happy that they were in his House and year. He'd known them less than a day, but for some reason, it seemed like much longer. Harry was as comfortable around the two of them as he was around most of his friends. More so than some.

The others seemed to like them, too-the thought made Harry's heart swell with pride, which was weird because he didn't have anything about which to be proud. It wasn't like he knew much more about them than the others-especially after Neville recounted the "Train Incident." Harry told Ron and Hermione about it earlier, but Ron just couldn't hear it enough. Ron's favorite thing was a trampled Slytherin.

Lavender and Parvati couldn't take their eyes from Heero and Quatre. Heero would move, and Lavender's eyes would follow. Quatre would shift, and Parvati would stare. Harry almost expected the girls to bore a hole through Quatre and Heero. Maybe just through their robes. Harry was sure that if either of them knew a spell to do that, they would in a heartbeat. He resolved to make sure they never found one, if it existed.

"Her-mi-o-ne," Ron whined. "I think we're all old enough to know for ourselves when we should to go to bed."

"Then you should know, oh great Prefect Ron, that all students are required to be in bed by eleven p.m. It is now past one. You figure it out," Hermione snapped. She stood up and turned to leave. She seemed to change her mind because she turned back around quite suddenly. "Heero, Quatre, it was nice to meet you." Hermione left the common room to go to the girls' dorm.

"Yeah," Lavender echoed breathlessly. She licked her lips. Had Harry not known her very well-and had he not been on the gay end of the bi spectrum-he might have thought it was very sexy. "It was so nice meet you both." Funny thing was, she only looked at Heero.

Parvati repeated what Lavender said; the only difference was her eyes were glued to Quatre. Those two acted more like twins than Parvati and her sister Padma. Sometimes even more so than Fred and George Weasley, and that was almost impossible to do-if the Weasley twins were any more identical, they'd be clones.

The two girls left the common room. Harry supposed that if they didn't, Hermione might have a monster lecture in store for them. Harry turned to tell the guys that they should go to bed-or at the very least, to their room-lest Hermione come down to find them all still up. Quatre beat him to it.

"Well, I'm going to bed," Quatre said. "You coming, Heero?" Heero nodded and stood, stretching. It was such a fluid motion, it brought the image of a cat to Harry's mind. Harry looked around and caught Dean staring at Heero. He turned his head away when he noticed Harry looking at him.

"We should probably go up to bed, too," Dean said a little sheepishly. "Don't you think, Seamus?"

Seamus, who had been staring off into space, blinked in response.

"Guess that means yeah," Dean chuckled. He grabbed Seamus' arm and led him up the stairs, while the rest of the boys trooped behind them.

Harry's room was the same one he'd shared with the others since his first year. It, like the rest of the Gryffindor arena, was in a tower. This year, though the room was still the same, it had been expanded, so it could accommodate seven boys instead of five. The positions of the beds had been changed, too. The room was circular, and the beds were always arranged in a circle. This year was no exception. But whereas before Harry's bed was beside Ron's, this year it was between Neville's and Dean's. For some reason, their beds were arranged alphabetically. Going clockwise from the door, their beds were Seamus, Neville, Harry, Dean, Ron, Quatre, and Heero. Harry wasn't sure if he liked the new setup, but he supposed he could always trade with somebody if it was too bad.

Harry changed in to his pajamas and got into bed. He lay down on the soft mattress and drifted off into sleep.

***

Harry jerked as he awoke. He couldn't remember why, exactly he was awake, but he knew it would come back to him soon. And there it was: he'd had a nightmare. Harry hated nightmares. Ever since he began having them, back in fourth year, Harry hated them. Especially the ones that came true.

At first, these were just the "visions," or whatever, that he had of Voldemort. Harry would see him torture some innocent Muggle, maybe use the Cruciatus curse on one or two of his inept followers. The summer after his fifth year, however, Harry began dreaming true, even when Voldemort was nowhere in the dream. He dreamed of Lucius Malfoy's escape from Azkaban, saw how the dementors just let him pass on by. Harry dreamed of Hagrid's brother trying to escape from the Forbidden Forest, and the centaurs' attempts to cut him down. When Harry went back and checked the times of those and other events, he found that they always happened as he dreamed them.

Sometimes, Harry was awake when he "dreamed true"-he called it Seeing Sideways because he always saw the event as it happened, just from another person's eyes. When he Saw Sideways, the visions were never that detailed, and Harry never felt as connected as he did when he dreamed them. Harry didn't tell anybody his dream visions not always involving Voldemort, and he certainly didn't tell them when he started Seeing Sideways, but he knew what it meant. He looked it up in the library. He, Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, was an Oracle. He knew that's what he was because an Oracle's predictions were never wrong. A Seer-even a true Seer-might get certain details wrong or even, occasionally, See the event wrong entirely. Harry was never wrong, not even down to the eye missing on the orange-haired doll.

And that's the main reason Harry hated nightmares. It wasn't because they were scary-even though they were-it was because, more likely than not, they were happening as he dreamt it. Which meant, by the time he woke up, it was too late. It was too late for little Sara McDonald and her father.

Harry curled up in a ball. He wished someone would come crawl into bed with him, hold him and comfort him until the pain went away, but it had never happened before, and he didn't expect it to happen now. Harry knew that neither Ron nor Neville would mind too terribly much if he got into their bed, but he didn't want to bother them. They had their own problems.

Harry wrapped his arms around his knees, brought them up under his chin, and cried.

***

Quatre could feel the waves of pain rolling off Harry. He longed to comfort his brother, but he knew that it was not yet his place to do so. He would probably become suspicious if Quatre were to attempt to climb in his bed and hold him. To get rid of some of his urges, Quatre hugged Heero. Thankfully, he was asleep and didn't seem to be feeling Harry's pain quite as strongly as Quatre.

Quatre and Heero were both in Quatre's bed. They had come to a consensus after first seeing the bed placements, that they would not sleep in Heero's bed unless absolutely necessary-it was too risky. It being by the door, anybody who got into the common room could just come and grab Heero with little to no trouble. The bed Quatre really wanted was Harry's or the red-headed kid's-Ron's. It was far enough away from the door to give an illusion of safety, but it wasn't under the window, either. Quatre would feel that Heero was safe in either of those beds.

Heero and Quatre began sleeping together-as in actually sleeping-in the middle of the war, whenever they weren't roomed with their usual partners. The first time they met, Heero died. He self-destructed his Gundam in order to protect the colonies and give the other pilots a chance to get away. That day, Quatre felt something he had never felt before. He felt Heero's death and the great chasm of pain that came with it. Quatre's chest felt like it was ripped out, like his heart lay beating on the controls in the cockpit. Quatre hated the feeling and hoped it never happened again. As luck would have it, it did, and every one of those times, Quatre knew why he felt like he did. But it was never as bad as that first time. The jubilation he felt when Heero came back-brought to life by a sort of magical override to his wards-was never as joyous and exhilarating and happy as it was then.

At the time, Quatre didn't even know what he was feeling, only that he was feeling something and it hurt. It wasn't until his first joint mission with Heero that he was even sure that Heero had been the cause of his pain. When Quatre saw Heero, he knew, for his heart danced the cha-cha in his chest, and his face burst into the biggest smile it ever had-he even strained some muscles. That was when Quatre knew, knew that Heero was family. At the time, Quatre didn't know exactly how they were related-if, indeed, they even were-but he knew that he loved Heero. Loved him as a brother. They slept in the same bed ever since, if it was at all possible.

Tonight, Heero waited until he was sure that their dormmates were asleep before sneaking over. It was two in the morning before Heero climbed into bed with Quatre. Quatre lay awake the entire time he was waiting for Heero-it was almost impossible for him to get to sleep without his brother, anymore. Quatre wondered if he would ever be as close with Harry as he now was with Heero. And, if he was, if his and Heero's relationship would suffer.

"No, please," Heero moaned in his sleep. He flopped around before finally throwing his leg over Quatre. "Not the box."

Heero was having a nightmare. Quatre supposed it was the night for nightmares. First, Harry, who he couldn't do anything about. Now, Heero, who he certainly could.

Quatre rubbed Heero's back, feeling the jagged scar. Death wounds never fully healed, no matter what magic was used. "Shh," Quatre whispered, trying to be quiet so as not to disturb Harry or wake the others. "It's just a dream. You're not alone. I love you, and I'll never leave you." Heero settled down, and Quatre relaxed, not even aware of the tension in his body until it was gone.

"We should go to him," Heero said. Startled, Quatre looked down to see whether Heero was awake or talking in his sleep. Heero looked back at him.

"Sorry I woke you," Quatre said, truly meaning the words. He hadn't wanted Heero to wake up, merely for his nightmare to be changed to a pleasant dream. The pain Harry was sending off wasn't nearly as bad if one was asleep. Quatre didn't want Heero to have to feel that.

"We can tell him we're Empaths if he asks how we knew," Heero said. "Or that he's really loud. He just shouldn't be alone right now."

Quatre nodded. "You're right, he shouldn't. Let's go."

The two brothers made their way to their other brother's and climbed in on either side of him. If Harry was surprised to see them, he didn't show it. He latched onto the offered comfort as they soothed him back to sleep.

Selune