Gundam Wing Fan Fiction / Fan Fiction ❯ Peace, Love, and Family: The Story of the Vanuli Three ❯ Classes, Take One ( Chapter 4 )

[ 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 4: Classes, Take One

Harry woke up-for the first time in a long time-refreshed and rejuvenated. After his one vision, Harry's dreams were all nic-comforting and pleasant. There was a presence in his dreams. Actually, there were two. Whenever Harry's dream would start to go bad, they would fight against the nightmares. They made his dreams better than they ever were before. The presences were bright and glowing, and vaguely humanoid. They felt familiar, like Harry should know who they were, but he couldn't quite place them.

Harry showered. By the time he finished, he had forgotten about the presences his his dreams.

Harry went down to breakfast, where Professor McGonagall-Head of Gryffindor House-was passing out there schedules.

"Oh, damn!" Ron exclaimed from beside Harry. Several heads glanced up and scowled at him. Hermione was one-she didn't approve cussing except in extreme situations. McGonagall shot Ron a disapproving look, but she didn't say anything about it, just moved down to table to hand out the rest of the schedules.

Harry started to turn to Ron, then changed his mind. He looked at his own schedule and saw why Ron was so upset. They had Potions and Care of Magical Creatures with the Slytherins-again. And they had Trelawny for Divinations. Harry knew Ron was hoping for Firenze.

"Yeah, that is bad luck," Harry said. He stuffed a muffin into his mouth. Ron was working himself into "rage mode", and Harry wanted to be finished eating by the time he got there. No such luck.

"I mean, really!" Ron said, shocking Seamus, who had fallen asleep in his cereal. "I didn't even want to take Potions. I failed the O.W.L. horribly-on purpose, mind you-just so that I wouldn't have to see the greasy git and his precious Slytherins!"

"Oh, Ron," Hermione said from the other side of the table. "You know Professor Dumbledore made everybody take Potions. It's a necessary skill that we will all need in the future."

Hermione was right. Snape usually only let students who made an "O" on their O.W.L.s into his upper-level classes. Of the three of them, only Hermione made that. However, due to Voldemort's resurrection and the subsequent danger everyone was in, the headmaster required Professor Snape to teach Potions to all the sixth and seventh year students. But only those who made that "O"-or improved enough over the course of two years that Snape deemed them good enough-would take it as a N.E.W.T. come June. Everyone else would take a normal final exam. As Harry still wanted to be an Auror, he hoped that he was allowed to take Potions as a N.E.W.T.

Harry looked at his watch-it was his birthday present from Remus Lupin, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher-and choked on a muffin. "If you don't leave RIGHT NOW, you'll be late for class," it read. It was a digital and always had a new way to tell Harry that he was late. Harry swore under his breath and grabbed more muffins.

"Ron, we should go, or Trelawny'll kill us," Harry said, shoving at his friend to get moving. Trelawny's classroom was in the North Tower-if they ran, they just might make it on time. "On second thought, maybe she won't kill us. Maybe she'll just describe-in excruciating detail-how we're going to die of spider bites."

Ron paled, but he hurried up. Harry hated using Ron's arachnophobia against him, but they were running out of time. Harry hated to be late, probably because he always was.

"C'mon," Harry said. Ron gathered the rest of his stuff, and they left the Great Hall.

***

Heero was bored. He came to Divinations hoping to learn something, but all he got was a charlatan who levelled death threats at his brother. She was teaching them psychometry, a form of divination where one read the history of an object by touching it. Apparently, this had been learned a couple of years ago, but Trelawny wanted to refresh their memory of it, as it was related-a little-to their next unit, cheiromancy.

Heero knew Quatre must be having a blast-he was, after all, an Oracle of the Past-but Heero, himself, wasn't having much luck. Being an Oracle of the Future, he couldn't see the past, no matter how hard he tried. Every object Heero touched showed him nothing; however, he did see the future of his classmates many times as they touched him to pass the objects. So far, Heero saw that Lavender was going to trip over a bucket of slime-set out by Peeves the Poltergeist-Ron was going to get flustered asking out Hermione-who would decline-and Harry would have another nightmare, which would actually be a vision of the present. Heero made a little mental not on that, so he and Quatre could help Harry again.

Other than the vision of Harry, Heero saw nothing of interest-luckily, he was touched so rarely in the class that he wasn't overwhelmed with visions of his classmates' futures. He saw nothing at all from the quill that supposedly belonged to Catherine the Great. Sighing, Heero passed the quill along the line. He took notes on the insights he gained from it-basically, nothing-and accepted the next artifact from Quatre. He was pretty much asking for Professor Trelawny to come swooping down on him.

And she did. Trelawny noticed that he wasn't displaying the enthusiasm the others were-who, except for Quatre, Lavender, and Parvati, were as bad as or worse than Heero when it came to scrying into the past. Heero held the brooch to his forehead and pretended not to notice his professor.

"So, Mr. Yuy does not feel the need to take notes," Madame Trelawny said, narrowing her eyes. At least, Heero thought she narrowed her eyes. There was so much smoke in the room from all the burning incense, he wasn't sure. "Since Mr. Yuy knows everything about psychometry already, perhaps he can enlighten the rest of us?"

Heero lowered the brooch to the table. He looked out of the corner of his eye to see Quatre glaring angrily at Trelawny. He smiled at his brother to show that he was okay and turned to Trelawny.

Trelawny didn't like him-he could tell when he walked in the room. Her eyes narrowed, her body tensed, and her hands clenched on her desk. Heero didn't particularly care if she liked him, didn't care that she could fail him or give him detention, didn't care about the upcoming N.E.W.T.s. All Heero cared about was winning over Harry.

So, knowing that Harry didn't like Madame Trelawny-Quatre had a vision last night about it, but even if he hadn't, Trelawny's attitude would have given it away-he turned his smile upon her. "Well, what do you want to know?" Heero asked, silently snickering when her face went red with rage.

Heero knew-he just knew-that she was about to give him detention or something else equally unsavory. Writing a 12-inch essay on the uses of pig entrails while divining, maybe. Luckily, the bell rang, and Heero was able to escape before she opened her mouth.

Heero shot out of the classroom before he could be punished and waited for Quatre. Heero was the first person out of Trelawny's class, so he had to wait a while for Quatre-his brother would probably be apologizing for his behavior and trying to explain it. Much of the class congratulated him on their way out. The guys all slapped him on the back. Lavender hugged him and told him that it would be okay, Madame Trelawny was probably just tired from the exhaustion of being such a wonderful Seer and would be more congenial tomorrow. Parvati looked at him like he just skinned her cat, made a necklace out of it, and showed it to her. Dean's reaction, though, was the most outrageous. He got down on one knee, took Heero's hand, and asked Heero to marry him.

Heero was overwhelmed. There was too much touching, too much flesh meeting his all at once-too many images. He saw flashes of Ron running after Hermione, trying to convince her to date him. He saw Neville, sitting on his bed, looking sadly after Harry as he left. Seamus argued with an unidentified girl. Lavender painted her nails-she had a bandage on her head. The vision of Dean-because he touched Heero longer-was more involved than the others. It started out, and he was in a square room. Dean was scared, but Heero didn't know why. He realized the reason when Dean looked toward the door. Heero was standing there; he had a slightly older boy with him-Roun. Roun was hurt, and Heero was pleading with Dean.

"Please, don't tell. They'll kill him. You know they will," Heero begged, holding Roun up.

"I won't help you hide him" Dean said, going for the door. "He's a vicious animal, and-"

Heero was dragged out of the vision by a hand on his back. It soothed and protected him. All the other hands went away, and Heero focused on the slight pressure, the gentle reassurance of his brother. Heero leaned back into the touch and closed his eyes. He said, "Thanks, Quat."

"Are you okay, Heero?" said a voice that was decidedly Not Quatre. The voice belonging to the hand that touched and soothed him was not his oldest brother. Heero opened his eyes and looked at his savior. It was Harry. Harry helped him. Heero grinned but stepped away from the touch. Quatre had just left the Divinations classroom, and his hands were balled at his sides-a clear indicator that he was Not Happy, and was probably Jealous as Hell. Of his own brother. Which one, though, Heero didn't know.

"Yeah, Harry, I'm fine," Heero said, gathering the books he'd dropped. "It was just a dizzy spell. I get them from time to time. It's a good thing you were here, or I might have fallen. Thanks."

Harry grinned. "No problem," he said. He turned to walk down from the tower, then seemed to think better of it. "Do you guys know where the Dungeons are?" Both Quatre and Heero shook their heads. "Well, how about I show you?" Then, Harry came over to Heero and Quatre, linked arms with them, and took them down the steps.

Heero was reminded of The Wizard of Oz. We're off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of Oz, Heero thought. Touching Harry was as natural as touching Quatre. Heero couldn't decide if that was good-because Harry was his brother, too-or bad-what if Quatre though Heero didn't love him as much as he used to?-so he decided on indifferent. For now, at least.

***

Quatre was in his element. He had a cauldron in front of him, ingredients at his side, and instructions on the board. He even had Heero as his partner. Life could not get any better.

Except, of course, for it being a completely deplorable class-leave it to the humans to mess up a perfectly good day. The teacher-Professor Snape-seemed to hate all things Gryffindor, even newbies like himself and Heero. The guys from the train-including Duo, Trowa, and that Daemon Rosencrantz he still hadn't asked Heero about-turned out to all be Slytherins. Malfoy, the blonde "leader," picked on Harry as much as he possibly could. Duo and Trowa completely ignored Quatre and Heero. Quatre was secretly pleased with this-the more Duo ignored Heero, the sooner Heero would move on-which, of course, he would never mention to Heero. Rosencrantz kept looking up from his work, over at Heero, back to his work, and back to Heero. Not knowing why was driving Quatre insane!

Not to mention the fact that Quatre felt extremely jealous of Heero and Harry's earlier interaction! Quatre Winner was the first person to admit that he was completely jealous about and overprotective of his family. He almost lost Heero so many times since they found each other that it would be bordering on insanity not to worry about him. However, in this situation, Quatre didn't even know which one he was jealous of! Was he jealous of Harry, for comforting Heero when he wasn't there? Was he jealous of Heero, for bonding-consciously and subconsciously-with Harry? Did he hate it that he didn't have-or soon wouldn't have-Heero all to himself anymore? Or was he jealous that he hadn't spent any alone time with Harry, hadn't bonded with his middle brother?

Heero handed Quatre the diced bicorn, and he checked the color of the potion. Red-it was time to put it in. Quatre added the ingredient and let the process of potion-making reassure him. It did as nothing else-except for Heero and, Quatre suspected, Harry-could.

They were making Amitto Memoria, "to lose memory." It was the Potions equivalent of the Obliviate spell. Almost. Amitto Memoria made its victim forget only certain types of memories. If someone put in a piece of flesh, the drinker would forget all sexual thoughts, feeling, and memories of the person to whom the flesh belonged. If one added tears, the same thing would happen, only for all emotionally-charged memories. For instance, a person could forget the death of a loved one if he gathered the tears of his dearly departed and drank it with the potion. Blood worked for all violent memories. Bone was good for humiliating ones. Most of the other body parts-hair, fingernails, saliva, etc.-were usually for more trivial things. It was technically a Dark Arts potion, but as this was a time of war in Britain, certain allowances were made so that the students would know how to protect themselves.

In any case, Quatre loved brewing potions. He put the lasat ingredient in and let the cauldron simmer. He checked it, double checked it, triple checked it. It was perfect.

Quatre sent Heero to get a vial to put it in. Heero came back, and Quatre poured the potion into the vial and labeled it with the contents, class period, and their names. It wasn't that Quatre didn't trust Heero to do it correctly; it was that he wanted to do it himself. He even took it to Snape's desk. Then they were finished. They still had almost half of the class left.

Quatre felt himself getting bored, but rather than give into it, he began to look around the room. It amazed him how many potions were in the room. He tried to count them all and couldn't. Heero probably could, but then, he wouldn't be sidetracked by questions about what went in the potions and whatnot. Heero was more of a Transfigurations guy; he didn't worry too much about potions. Quatre wondered if Harry liked Potions-all of Quatre's visions seemed to point him towards more of a Charms enthusiast.

"Mr. Winner!" someone said loudly into his ear. Quatre jumped and looked to see who shouted. It was Professor Snape. He looked sour-more so than he did at the beginning of class, and that was saying something since, at that time, he looked as though he'd sucked on a tree full of lemons. "It seems as though you know all there is to know about Amitto Memoria, as you've finished with thirty minutes left of class." Forty-five's more like it. "So why don't you tell the rest of us how to make it?"

Quatre knew he heard something similar to that earlier. But when was it? Oh, yeah. Divinations. Bat-lady cracked down on Heero almost as hard as Snape was now doing to Quatre. He decided to take a page out of Heero's book: be rude, but tell the truth. His only worry, as far as getting into trouble went, was not being expelled. As long as he didn't tell lies or break too many rules, Quatre figured Professor Dumbledore would keep him and Heero at Hogwarts. After all, the headmaster knew what they were-species-wise, not that they were two of a set of three-and that they were here to get to know their brother. Dumbledore was always a softie when it came to family, so he probably wouldn't kick them out for anything but a major infraction-like the purposeful murder of another student. Still, Quatre wasn't going to push his luck. Much.

"The instructions are on the board," Quatre said to Professor Snape, pointing to the chalkboard at the front of the class, "and the ingredients are in the book," Quatre pointed to his textbook, 999 Dark Potions for the Light by Claudia DeFaux. "I'm sure even the stupidest of seventh years can manage to read it, if not brew it."

"Mr. Winner, if you are suggesting..." Snape began.

"I am suggesting, sir, that your students, my classmates, do not need me to tell them how to brew this potion." Quatre smiled sweetly. "They have you for that."

Professor Snape was taken aback by that before beginning anew. "Tell me, Mr. Winner, how it was that you brewed the Amitto Memoria correctly on your first attempt? I, myself, was twenty-three before I was even allowed to attempt it, and then it was a little weak. Only erased memories up to twelve days old. So, Mr. Winner, how did you make it right on your first try?"

Quatre stared at Professor Snape. He blinked. Snape actually thought this was his first time making this? "Professor," he said, very slowly as if to a small child, "I've made this potion many times before. As hard as Claudia worked us, I daresay I could make it in my sleep. Heero, too. And he's just awful at potions."

"So, you're saying, Mr. Winner, that you, with willful intent, brewed a Dark Potion before the legal age?" Snape asked, sounding delighted-if it could be called delight-at the prospect of his student committing a major crime.

"In Britain, I guess," Quatre admitted. "But I wasn't in Britain at the time. I was on L1. The legal age to brew this there is twelve, if one has proper supervision."

Snape's face fell-he caught it quickly, but it fell just the same-and Quatre looked over at Heero to smile at him. To share in all the brotherly love that they had. But Heero wasn't looking at Quatre. He was looking at Duo.

"Wait a minute," Snape said, turning back to Quatre. "You said Claudia. As in DeFaux?"

Selune