Gundam Wing Fan Fiction / Fan Fiction ❯ Peace, Love, and Family: The Story of the Vanuli Three ❯ Classes, Take Two ( Chapter 5 )

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

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I am so sorry to everyone that I told I would update last Thursday. I planned to update then, I really did. My computer messed up, though, and I was unable to access the chapter. Again, I am so sorry.

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 5: Classes, Take Two

Dorothy Catalonia was not a happy camper. Everything had been going wrong since she and her Niamos decided to come to Hogwarts. First, she got separated from Quatre and Heero on the train. She eventually found them, but that was only because she went into the guys' restroom instead of the girls'. It was a good thing she did, though. By the time she got in there, Quatre and Duo Maxwell were at each other's throats, Heero lay in the floor-somehow-asleep, and Trowa Barton stood apart from all of them, unsure what to do.

Dorothy quickly diffused the situation, sending Maxwell and Barton away with their tails between their legs. Then she had to find out exactly what was going on. Eventually, after constant badgering, Quatre wore down and told her about Heero's and Duo's past. Every time Quatre touched Duo, apparently, their last night together would flash in his mind. Heero must be really hung up on it. Dorothy had sighed and told Quatre to wake Heero using any potion necessary, as long as it didn't hurt him. They didn't tell Heero what went on while he was sleeping.

Then, later that night, Dorothy got Sorted into a House that her unmet Niamo was not in. She'd heard of Slytherin and knew of it; she had figured that she would be Sorted there. After all, she was all about power and ambition. Hell, she was the protector of the three most powerful Vanuli in existence. She always made sure to mention that at parties. It made lesser Naiyamas jealous. But, seeing as her Niamos were in a different House-a rival House, to boot-Dorothy felt it would be rather hard to keep them safe. Especially Harry, who neither knew nor trusted her. And especially because she was now expected to hate all Gryffindors.

To top that off, she was now supposed to work with a human that oozed hatred of Heero from every pore. It took all of her willpower to fight the urge to cut off his head. The next time he made a disparaging comment about Heero, she couldn't take it any more.

"Oh, fuck this," Dorothy said, thrusting the gremlin at Rosencrantz. She was in Care of Magical Creatures. Thankfully, Slytherin shared it-like Potions-with Gryffindor. Dorothy always felt better when her Niamos were in sight. It made it easier to spy on-er, watch over them. She made her way over to Quatre and Heero amid a sea of shocked stares and much pointing. She plopped on the grass beside her "children" and picked up a gremlin. It was still fuzzy.

"So, how have you been?" she asked innocently as the other Gryffindors-as well as the Slytherins-looked at them, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. Even Professor Hagrid stared. It was rude. Dorothy would have said something about it, but Heero chose that time to speak.

"It's been all right," he said, picking up a gremlin of his own. It was starting to lose its hair-it tried to bite him. Heero smacked it on the head, and it settled down. "The Divinations professor hates me, and Duo won't even look in my direction, but our Housemates are all nice. Especially our roommates."

Dorothy took that as in-public Heeroese for what would in private be (while jumping up and down), "Yay! Harry likes us! Yay!" She turned to Quatre to confirm this translation when her mind went back to what he said first. Dorothy would have to discover if that was the truth, and if so, eliminate him/her. As for Maxwell, Dorothy agreed with Quatre. Heero was better off without him and should never have been involved with him. He would never understand, and any attempt to make him understand would, likely, hurt Heero more than he already was. No, Heero needed to get over Maxwell. Maybe if she set him up with a nice Veela? Veela were much more powerful than humans. They smelled better, too.

"Who is your Divinations teacher?" she asked, her voice leaving no room for argument. They would tell her.

"Trelawny," Quatre said, probably knowing what she planned to do. Most likely, he would be relieved that he wouldn't have to deal with it alone. "You know, I think Professor Snape hates me, too."

Dorothy let go of the gremlin-its hair was falling off in big lumps, and frankly, it was gross-and turned her full attention on Quatre. She knew of her Head of House's biases-basically, he held all the ones that the students did-and she heard him completely ripping into Quatre before lunch. How many teachers was she going to have to take out? They really should have stuck with Dorothy's original plan: grab Harry and run with him.

"At least, he did hate me, until I told him that Claudia DeFaux was my sister and tutored me in Potions this year. Then he just seemed envious. I really should owl ole' Claud and thank her," Quatre said.

Dorothy simmered down. Quatre really should know better than to say things like "hate" in reference to how somebody felt about him or Heero. It always set her off. Then, it was just a hop, skip, and a jump to a dead body. Heero learned the hard way that an angry Dorothy was not desirable when he snuck out of the base to go to a party. Dorothy guessed Quatre didn't learn from the experience. She was glad that she wasn't going to have to kill Professor Snape, though. She rather liked him-he was snarky and sour.

Dorothy heard footsteps coming their way from the Slytherin territory of the fenced-in yard. She groaned. I swear, if that's Rosencrantz, I'm throwing two hairless gremlins on him and spraying him with a water hose. I'll have to conjure one, but it'll be worth it.

Thankfully, it was not Rosencrantz. Well, he was there, but he wasn't alone. At the lead of all of the other Slytherins-Crabbe, Goyle, Bulstrode, Parkinson, Rosencrantz, even Barton and Maxwell-walked the boy who had just last night introduced himself as head Slytherin, Draco Malfoy. Personally, Dorothy couldn't understand why the others followed him. He was cowardly and weak-willed. He would back down from a fight as soon as his opponent showed his teeth. He was not a leader. He was...

Walking towards Harry. The stupid, slimy, wretch was going to try to intimidate her Niamo. Well, not now, not ever. Even though she knew Harry could take care of himself against Malfoy-after all, Malfoy was only human-she still wanted to be there close by, just in case. She got up and motioned for Quatre and Heero to stay put.

Malfoy and his gang were on one side, Harry and the Gryffindors were on the other. They stood facing each other, Harry and Malfoy in the middle of their respective groups, their seconds fanning out around them. A tall, red-haired guy named Weasley and a bushy-haired girl named Granger stood on either side of Harry, signifying that they were next in rank. Barton and Maxwell did the same thing to Malfoy. It surprised Dorothy to no end that these children knew Vanulian dueling practices. If they truly did, then Dorothy knew what came next. She wasn't going to let that happen.

Dorothy pushed her way through the crowd, shoving her way past the lower-ranking Slytherins and Gryffindors. She hoped that Quatre and Heero had enough sense to stay back. A quick look back proved that she was not so lucky-they were following very close behind her. She sighed in exasperation and stepped up her pace. If she moved fast enough, she could render the situation neutral before Heero and Quatre got in the path of danger.

Dorothy stepped between Malfoy and Harry just as they raised their wands. "What seems to be the problem here?" she asked, favoring Malfoy with a harsh scowl. She turned to Harry, saw that he was unharmed, and turned back to Malfoy. She tore into him-verbally, this time. He might no be so lucky after his next attempt to hurt what was hers. "Are you stupid, Malfoy? Attacking Potter in broad daylight! With all of his friends to support him and report you, and with Professor Hagrid set to come back any minute! Did you really think it would accomplish anything? That attacking Potter might get you anything more than dead?" Malfoy started to protest, but Dorothy interrupted him. "Don't say anything. I may not have been here long, but even I know that you are a disgrace to Slytherin!"

Dorothy stormed out of the crowd. This time, she was happy about Quatre and Heero following her. She was shaking with anger and the need to kill all who hurt her Niamos. It was hard to hold that in-it was an instinct built into her caste-to not walk up to Malfoy and turn his bones to mush. It would be so easy. And satisfying. She could almost hear the squish now.

Dorothy felt a wave of warmth and knew that Heero was touching her. He knew just how she got when her Niamos were threatened-he'd had to stop her from killing a lot of people, including his Healer-and he knew how to calm her down. It took him a while to be able to do it correctly, but now he mastered his touch. It soothed her instantly.

"Thanks," she said as she felt all of her aggression melt away.

"Welcome," Heero said. He stopped rubbing circles on her back. He looked back and winced. Dorothy looked, too. Everyone was leaving-class was over.

"We have to go," Quatre said. He flashed a small smile at Dorothy. "We'll get in touch with you later."

Dorothy hugged her Niamos hard. She didn't know when she would next be able to see them, and it saddened her. If anybody hurt them, Dorothy would be very angry, indeed.

***

Harry hoped his next class-Defense Against the Dark Arts-would be more normal than the others were. The others had been weird. Especially Care of Magical Creatures. A Slytherin never approached a Gryffindor in friendship. No Gryffindor would know what to do if one did. And a Slytherin never stopped a fight. Not even at the beginning, before the curses started flying. They were just too cowardly. And Harry was sure that the girl-Catalonia, he thought her name was-checked him out before turning on Malfoy. Weird.

But here Harry was now, in his almost absolute favorite class-it was second only to Charms, and there, it wasn't so much the class he liked but the subject. Harry loved Defense Against the Dark Arts because, for the second year in a row, Remus Lupin would be teaching it. Professor Lupin (Remus, when they were alone or with other friends), was a good friend of Harry's.

He helped out Harry a lot after fifth year, when Harry's godfather and Remus' best friend, Sirius Black, died. Remus helped him come to terms with Sirus' death. He even tried to get Harry to believe that it wasn't his fault. Harry knew it was-if he had tried looking in his mirror, he would have known Sirius was safe and wouldn't have gone after him. Remus also helped Harry accept his destiny, helped him accept that he would either be murdered or be a murderer.

In class, Professor Lupin got away from teaching the Unforgivables and Dark creatures, which were what he taught in Harry's third year. Instead, he began teaching more curses and counter-curses. In short, he was trying to teach Harry everything he could before he faced Voldemort again. They both knew-as did Ron, Hermione, and Neville-that their next meeting may be his last. Sometimes, Remus even gave Harry private tutoring lessons.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was the one class Harry knew he could always count on to be normal.

Except, of course, that he couldn't. Professor Lupin walked into class. His robes weren't ragged anymore because he inherited half of Sirius' fortune upon his death; the other half went to Harry. Professor Lupin looked at his students and told them to get out their books.

"For the next few days," Professor Lupin said, "we will be talking about Gifts. What they are, who has them, and most importantly, how to defend against them."

Harry got out his quill and parchment. He heard the other Gryffindors do the same. Professor Lupin didn't usually teach the first day-he told them what he was going to teach them in the upcoming year. This was weird.

"As several of you know-those who continue to take History of Magic-witches and wizards used to be more powerful, on average, than we are today," Professor Lupin said. Harry sat up straighter, attentive. He didn't know that; he dropped Binns after fifth year. "However, several of the wizards of olds' magic is present in some people today. They are called Gifts and are extremely rare.

"There are four Gifts: the Gift of Tears, the Gift of Blood, the Gift of Flesh, and the Gift of Bones. Each Gift has a special quality about it, one that has to do with its name. For example, a person with the Gift of Flesh can cause people to experience intense pain when he touches them."

Harry thought about that. He wondered what the use of it would be, especially when the Cruciatus Curse would work just as well. And you would have to be really close to the victim to do it. Harry listened as Professor Lupin explained some of the attributes of the others. Someone with the Gift of Tears could make their tears acidic. When the tears touched others, they were so powerful that they could burn a hole clear through-even somewhere as thick and muscular as a thigh. The Gift of Blood could, if a small opening was already there (meaning, if you had even a papercut), call all of the blood in a person's body out of it. The Gift of Bones could break every bone in another's body, even from a distance. Harry thought it sounded rather gruesome.

"Does anyone have any questions so far?" Professor Lupin asked. Several hands shot up. Hermione's, of course. Harry wasn't surprised to see that. She always wanted to make sure she understood the material correctly, which she almost always did. Harry had only ever heard her be wrong once while in class. Harry was surprised, though, at the number of other hands raised. Ron's. Dean's. Neville's. Heero's, too, but for some reason, Quatre was trying to make him put it down.

Professor Lupin-probably trying to put him out of his misery-called on Heero.

"It's a stupid question," Quatre growl-whispered to Heero. Harry sat close enough to them to just barely hear it. "Don't ask."

Heero shook off Quatre's arm and looked at Professor Lupin. "Everything you've said about the Gifts so far have been bad. Why? Surely there must be something good about them?"

Professor looked as stunned as Harry felt. A Dark Art-as that is what it surely was, otherwise Professor Lupin wouldn't be teaching about it-being positive, in any respect, was unheard of. Harry couldn't think of anything good that the Gifts could be used for; at least, not as Professor Lupin described them.

But Heero continued. "Because I can think of several positive aspects of the Gifts." Everyone was staring at Heero now-except for Quatre, who's head was shaking in his hands-but he didn't seem to care. "Take the Gift of Flesh, for example. The owner can heal any flesh wounds he or she has, as well as those of another person's, if he can touch it. The Gift of Bones. A person with that can, almost painlessly, regrow bones. The two of them together could remake entire body parts-arms, hands, legs. And the Gift of Tears. Sure, they can be used as poisons. They can also be used as medicines. I even know of one case where they brought someone back from almost-death. Without the Gift, he surely would have died. The Gift of Blood. Someone with that power can almost instantly clot a cut. Think of the advantages of that."

"Are you quite done?" Professor Lupin asked good-naturedly. He smiled at Heero. "I am aware of the good qualities of the Gifts. Thank you for reminding me to speak about them."

Professor Lupin went to the board and listed some of the positive attributes of the Gifts. Harry didn't pay attention; he was too busy staring at Heero. How did Heero-and Harry supposed, Quatre-know that much about the Gifts? Harry was still thinking about it when Ron told him class was over.

Everyone left to go back to the common room-Lupin was the last class on Mondays-but Harry lingered around. He wanted to talk to Remus. Harry hung out by the door, waiting for Remus to notice that he was still in there.

Harry heard quiet talking right outside the door.

"Why did you do that?" one voice asked. Harry identified it as belonging to Quatre. He figured Quatre was talking to Heero. "These people aren't stupid. They'll figure us out in a second with you giving them clues like that."

Harry's suspicions were answered when the other person began talking.

"Quat, I'm sorry," Heero said. He certainly sounded it, his voice low and whining. "I just had to make sure they knew-that Harry knew-that the Gifts aren't inherently bad."

"Well, you've certainly done that," Quatre answered hotly. "Let's go, before someone comes and overhears us. God, you're so careless sometimes."

Harry heard footsteps leading away and turned around. He rested the back of his head against the cold stone wall and thought. Why would Heero want Harry, in particular, to know that the Gifts could be used for good? He needed to think about this some more. Harry turned to leave when Remus finally noticed him.

"Something you needed, Harry?" Remus asked distractedly, shuffling through some papers on his desk.

"Yeah," Harry said. "I just wanted to talk to you about tutoring."

He promised himself that he would think about Quatre and Heero later. Who they were, what they wanted with him, and why. Now, though, he'd just work on his survival skills.

Selune