Gundam Wing Fan Fiction / Fan Fiction ❯ Peace, Love, and Family: The Story of the Vanuli Three ❯ Duo and the Gifts ( Chapter 7 )
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 7: Duo and the Gifts
Heero was looking for Quatre. If he couldn't sleep, he was damn well going to make his brother forgive him. Thus, Heero was in the Dungeons. Quatre was probably down here making a potion. Once Heero found him, he would wait until Quatre was finished with whatever he was making. Then, he would pounce.
Heero came to the Potions classroom. He poked in through the cracked door, and as expected, Quatre was in there. He was huddled over a cauldron, fumes rising up from it. They were red mixed with wisps of pink. It smelled faintly of jasmine-it reminded Heero of Booamyie. As far as Heero could tell, it was Booamyie. But for the life of him, he couldn't see why Quatre would risk brewing an intoxicating, yet tasty, drink in Snape'sclassroom. As much as Heero knew about potions, though, it could be-and probably was-something harmless. One of those healing potions Quatre liked to carry around, perhaps.
Whatever it was, judging by the sheer amount of ingredients Quatre had at his side, it was going to take a while. Because he didn't know exactly how stable the potion would be now, Heero decided not to just burst in the room and startle his brother. He could leave and come back in a while. Heero didn't want to do that, though. What if he overestimated the time it took to brew the thing? He would come back, and Quatre would be gone. So Heero did what he already decided-he would wait by the door and snatch Quatre as he came out.
Heero sat. And sat. And sat. Heero was just about to interrupt Quatre for the hell of it when he heard footsteps. Several footsteps. Heero had forgotten that Potions was in Slytherin territory. He looked down and hoped-prayed-that the people coming were little first years that he didn't know and wouldn't risk bothering an older student. The footsteps stopped right in front of Heero. He looked up.
Today was not his lucky day. There were three of them, all seventh years. He knew every one of them. Trowa Barton, Duo Maxwell, and Daemon Rosencrantz.
Heero stood up, holding onto the wall as he did so. His knees creaked as he stood; his bones couldn't take the strain of sitting so long anymore. Heero lifted his head and looked Duo straight in the eyes. He almost flinched away when he saw the hardness there, but he kept his ground. Duo's eyes bore pure hatred.
That's why Heero was so surprised when Duo told the other two to leave. Heero watched them walk away, if only to relieve his senses. Looking at Duo, being so close to him, was overwhelming to Heero after almost two years away from him. He could smell him-musky and a little like vanilla. If Heero reached out, even a little bit, he would be able to touch Duo. He could even feel Duo's body heat emanating from him. Heero barely stopped himself from grabbing Duo and kissing the life out of him.
He smiled at Duo. It quickly vanished as Duo stood there, unmoving, unsmiling. Much like Heero during the war.
"Now let's get one thing straight, Yuy," Duo said. He sounded cold, harsh, nothing like the Duo that Heero used to know. It saddened Heero to know that, if he didn't cause the entire thing, he at least played a big part in making Duo this way. "I don't like you. I used to like you. Hell, I used to love you. But that all changed when you left. So stop staring at me. I will never want you again."
Heero felt his heart fall to his feet as Duo turned to leave. No! He was not going to let Duo leave like that. Duo had to love him! Heero's hand shot out, almost of its own accord, and grabbed Duo. Heero turned him around, held onto his head, and proceeded to kiss Duo with everything he had.
Heero poured all of his love, all of his hopes and dreams, and all of his magic into the kiss. He could feel the waves of magic, of pleasure, running from himself to Duo. He was draining himself-for Duo, to make him see that everything could be as it was before. To make Duo love him again. Heero pressed his entire body against Duo's. He wrapped his arms around Duo as his body stiffened.
Duo broke the kiss and moaned. He threw back his head and panted, in the throws of ecstasy. Duo began to convulse, and he practically howled with pleasure. Heero felt warmth at his stomach. He reclaimed Duo's lips to drown out his screams.
After he regained control of himself, Duo wrenched out of Heero's grasp. Again, his eyes could melt rocks.
"I don't know what exactly you just did to me, Squib, but don't ever touch me again," Duo said through clenched teeth. He stalked away-angrily, if a bit wobbily-in the direction Trowa and Daemon went.
Without Duo's support, Heero sank to the floor. After his little display, he didn't have the energy to hold himself upright. It wasn't what he did that was so draining-giving someone an orgasm was the easiest thing in the world. The emotion Heero put into the action caused the effect to amplify, and thus drain his magic quicker. Heero held his head in his hands. He wanted to cry but wouldn't let himself-not in public.
Heero hoped he was recovered by the time Quatre finished his potion. His brother would not be pleased if he learned what stupid thing Heero did this time. Especially one that didn't even work. Of course, Heero wouldn't try to hide it from Quatre. He planned on telling his brother when he saw him. Heero just wanted to be able to run away should he need to.
Arms wrapped around him, and Heero-comforted by the touch, as always-allowed himself to cry. He knew Quatre would put up some sort of privacy spell around them. Quatre (and it was Quatre, Heero could smell the Booamyie on him) maneuvered Heero into his lap. He stroked Heero's back as Heero sobbed into his robe.
As Heero cried, he could feel his sadness going away, little by little. He wept away his sorrow, and when he was done, he couldn't remember why he was on the floor. He asked Quatre.
"You had a dizzy spell," Quatre said, still hugging Heero at the shoulders. "You weren't hurt, though. You'll be okay."
Quatre was speaking to him again! Quatre helped him not get hurt, just like always. Heero thought his face would break, he was smiling so much. A yawn broke his smile, and Heero remembered why he was in the Dungeons in the first place.
"Kitten," Heero said, using a very rare nickname he himself gave to Quatre. He only used it when he really wanted something and had to be extremely pitiful to get it. "I'm tired. Let's go take a nap."
***
When Harry left his room, he looked for Hermione. He needed to talk to someone about what he just heard, and she was the smartest person he knew. Harry went down to the common room, but Hermione wasn't there.
Lavendar and Parvati were, though. Harry would ask them if they knew where Hermione was. If they didn't know, he would look for her in the library. Harry went up to Lavendar and Parvati-they were talking, as usual.
"He looked upset," Lavendar said, gesturing toward the portrait hole. "And sleepy. That must be why he didn't say hi. I wonder why he's not been getting enough sleep?" Lavendar twirled her hair and dreamily looked at the door. "I'm sure he'll act really nice tomorrow, after he's had a good night's rest."
Parvati rolled her eyes. "Lav, dear, you know that I'm not one to judge-" Lavendar snorted. "You know I'm not one to judge, but Heero just seems really mean. He never talks to anyone other than Quatre and that Slytherin girl. He's antisocial and not good enough for you." Parvati put on the same dreamy expression Lavendar had. "Now Quatre-he's a man. He's not too tall-"
"They're exactly the same height!"
"He's not to short. He's not too friendly, he's not to shy. He has gorgeous blue eyes and silky looking blonde hair. He's the perfect compliment to me."
"He's also Professor Snape's pet!" Lavendar shouted. Parvati didn't take too kindly to that and started chasing Lavendar around the room. Guessing that they would probably not be done for quite a while, Harry decided to look for Hermione by himself.
Harry waited until the girls passed him, then he raced to the portrait and ran out of the common room. Once Harry was out of the way, he leaned against the wall to catch his breath. Girls were weird. Harry was glad he wasn't with a girl, that he had whatever it was that he had with Neville.
Harry caught his breath, and went to look for Hermione. He looked in the library. She wasn't there. He looked in the Room of Requirement, thinking maybe the library was too loud for her to study. She wasn't there. He looked everywhere in the castle he could think of. Twice. Harry couldn't find her anywhere. Finally, it dawned on Harry that she might be with the house elves. After all, the last Harry heard, she was still up in arms about S.P.E.W.
Harry started making his way to the kitchens. His stomach seemed to like that idea, as it took the opportunity to growl loudly. Startled, Harry looked at his watch-it said, "Time for dinner. Get there fast or get there last." Harry thought it was corny, but he followed the watch's advice. Hermione was bound to be in the Great Hall. He'd get to see Neville, too.
By the time Harry got to the Great Hall, it was mostly full. One look at Gryffindor table, and Harry felt his chest get all aflutter. Right across from Ron and Hermione, Neville sat next to an empty seat. Harry sat in it.
"Where have you been?" Hermione asked as soon as his butt touched the seat. "Neville says he's been looking for you for over an hour and a half."
"Well," Harry said, filling his plate with mashed potatoes. He loved mashed potatoes. "I was looking for you, Hermione. I wanted to talk to you about something. Actually, since you're all here, why don't I just tell you all about it later?"
They all agreed.
"Harry," Ron said, turning to face him, "we have to go to George and Fred's shop tomorrow. Fred told me that they just got more toffees in. I have to try them out on the first years." Hermione shot Ron a look, but he didn't seem to care. "And I'm sure George wouldn't mind seeing you too terribly much."
Last year, when Harry came out to Ron and Hermione, Ron was much more accepting than Harry figured he would be. Harry knew Ron would still be his friend, but he never thought that Ron would go so far as to try to set him up with his brother. Apparently, George told his family that he was gay the summer after Harry's fourth year. George was a great guy-and cute. If Harry didn't want Neville, he would be all over George. As it stood, though, Ron was just annoying when he tried to get them together.
Judging by the hand squeezing his thigh, Neville didn't like it much, either. Harry thought that he had to nip this in the bud right now, unless Neville started to think that Harry had two guys.
"Uhh, Ron, I'm going to Hogsmeade with Neville tomorrow," Harry said hesitantly. He hoped Neville didn't want to keep their a secret or anything. He must not because his grip relaxed. Neville had a strong grip, stronger than one would think he did. Harry hoped he wouldn't bruise.
"That's okay," Ron said. "Bring him with us. I'm sure we can get the twins to leave him alone."
He didn't get it. Dear Merlin, he didn't get it. Harry felt the hand on his thigh tighten as Ron went on about Fred and George. He knew if Neville didn't let up soon, he would bruise. He would just try telling Ron again.
"No, no, Ron, you're not getting the point," Harry said. He point to his lips. "Read my lips, Ron. I am going to Hogsmeade with Neville tomorrow. We won't be going to your brothers' store. We're not coming with you and Hermione. It's going to be me and Neville."
Harry shut up and let Ron have a minute to soak up what he said. Harry knew it the instant Ron understood what he meant. He turned to Neville with the exact same expression on his face as the one he gave to Ginny's boyfriends. It was not pretty. Before Neville's hand could lock Harry's thigh in a vice grip once again, Harry grabbed his hand and held it. They were in this together. Sort of.
"You and I will talk later," Ron promised Neville. Harry didn't try to persuade him otherwise, and he didn't try to tell Neville that it would be okay. Ginny always tried to make Ron not give "The Talk" to her new boyfriends-it never worked. Harry had seen some of them after "The Talk"; they were always white as sheets and walked like zombies. Half of them broke up with Ginny on the spot. The other half usually lasted about two weeks. Harry knew-he hoped-that Neville was stronger than that. And that he liked Harry enough to put up with it.
Thankfully, Ron didn't have too long to intimidate Neville. Dinner was over, and it was time for Astronomy.
***
After Astronomy-it was a Double on Fridays-Harry, Hermione, Neville, and Ron congregated in the boys' dorm room. They sat on Ron's bed. Ron actually tried to sit between Harry and Neville, but Harry moved to the other side. He knew all of Ron's tricks. They were there so Harry could get their opinion of Heero's prophecy. Now that they were all here waiting for him to speak, though, Harry couldn't quite find the words. He took a deep breath and started talking.
"Earlier today, I came in here," Harry said. He knew he sounded stupid, but continued. "There was someone else already here." Harry didn't know why, but he didn't want them to know that he was talking about Heero. "He didn't speak until I got in the room, in hearing range. It was like he wanted me to hear what he said." On reflection, that didn't sound too intelligent. Of course Heero wanted him to know what he was saying. That was what people did when they talked to you. "But he wasn't talking to me. He wasn't even looking at me. His eyes were glassy and unfocused-I think he was looking at something not there."
Hermione scoffed, apparently understanding what Harry was implying. Harry wished she wouldn't do that. This was hard enough as it was without her making fun of him.
"Umm," Harry said, trying to remember where he was. "I wouldn't say anything, except there's only one time I've ever seen someone like that. When Madame Trelawny predicted Voldemort's return. Just like her, he didn't seem to know what he said after it was over. He just stood up and walked out."
"So what did he "predict", Harry?" Hermione asked. "He say the world was going to end?" She scoffed again and turned away, but she could still hear everything they said.
"Something like that," Harry said. He then proceeded to recite to them what Heero said, leaving out the part about the Second's life. When Harry thought about it, it sounded like his own life. It was scary, and he didn't want his friends to know. By the time he was done, Ron was horrified, Neville was confused, and Hermione was in ultra-super-brain mode.
"It's impossible," she declared after having digested the information for a sufficient amount of time. "Vanuli rarely ever have multiple births-and never more than two. With their physiology, it kills them. Every time a Vanuli had twins, the mother died during the birth. For a Vanuli to have triplets and live to tell about it-or make a decision affecting her children's lives-is not going to happen."
How did she know that? Before today, Harry never even heard of Vanuli, let alone facts about their reproduction happenings. One look at Ron and Neville proved that they were thing the exact same thing. Hermione noticed this.
"Oh, honestly!" she exclaimed. "Don't any of you ever read?" Harry shook his head mutely. It was best not to speak when Hermione was in a rant. "There's an entire stack all about Vanuli in the Magical Beings section of the library!"
"There's a Magical Beings section?" Neville asked. Neville obviously didn't spend enough time with Hermione to know that one did not ask questions until the question and answer session at the end of the lecture. Hermione was usually most of the way calmed down by then. Thankfully, Neville quickly corrected his mistake. "I mean, I'm in the library all the time. I'm just usually in the Herbology section."
That cooled her off. For a moment there-when her face got really red and she was just about to take a deep breath, the better to lecture with-Harry was afraid. Hermione was scary when it came to books.
"Anyway," Hermione said, "as I was saying, Vanuli women cannot have triplets. Their wombs are made such that they can only accommodate one six pound baby and all that comes with it. They simply won't get any bigger. The handful of times that twins were born, they only weighed about three pounds each. Triplets would only weight two-or less. That's simply not big enough to survive."
Harry thought about that a moment. There must be some way for triplets to be born, or else how could Heero predict that? If it was even a true prediction to begin with. If it was possible, what would happen? Harry voiced his question.
"I've already said that it's not possible," Hermione stated. Harry could see that she was about to give him all the reasons why again-this time going into graphic detail, which he didn't want to hear-so he interrupted her before she could start.
"But if it was," Harry said, "what would happen? What could be done?"
Neville answered with, perhaps, the smartest words ever said, ever. "I suppose we would hope that they were on our side."
***
After Harry and his friends left, Quatre turned to Heero. He was still asleep. They went to bed after Quatre found his little brother crying what seemed to be his heart out over Duo. Quatre worked his magic-tears were such wonderful things-and made Heero forget all about it. Quatre's brother would not be sad over a human, not if he could help it. Because of that-and because Heero hadn't been sleeping-they went to bed. They skipped dinner and Astronomy.
It was a good thing they did, too. Otherwise, Quatre never would've heard what Harry said. Heero wouldn't tell him, if what Harry said was to be believed. He wouldn't remember. That could mena only one thing, as far as Quatre knew. Heero was fighting his visions. Heero was always right when it came to what he Saw, so Quatre didn't worry about that.
What worried Quatre was that Heero was trying to fight his magic again. Heero always did that. For fifteen years, he didn't have any, so he wasn't used to it. Sometimes, he even forgot he had it. There were several times in Heero's treatment where he would let his magic build up so much that it would let itself out. Usually in a very Duoesque explosion. One time, he dissolved Dorothy's epidermis. It took a week to grow back, with Heero helping. That was the only good thing about Heero's obsession with Duo-he would willingly play with his Gift.
"No," Heero said. He fought at Quatre when he tried to hold him down. He was in the grips of another nightmare. "Don't put me in the box!"
Quatre felt guilty, but he couldn't just comfort Heero this time. This particular nightmare occurred too frequently to be only a nightmare. Quatre wanted-needed-to know what the box thing was about. Knowing it was a bad thing, that he was violating his brother's privacy, Quatre took a deep breath, held onto Heero, and willed the vision to come. He was immediately thrust into the past. Heero's past.
***
He was twelve years old. Quatre knew this instincively. Just like he knew the names of all the people standing around him. They were mostly his age, all wearing the same spandex and tank top. It was for maneuverability and to get them used to the cold. A few were older than him. His father was there-and Dr. J.
It was the weekly meeting. One they had every week. The Omegas-that was what the group was called-would stand there for hours, stock still, until J deigned to show up. When J came, ,he would put them through a series of tests. He usually took Heero in the back room to test him for magical abilities. If every Omega passed every test, they would get unlimited food for the week. If anybody failed, they got enough food for one person to survive the week. They usually failed, and it was always Heero's fault. So he didn't mind too much about what happened after.
This time was different. There was never anybody in the room but the Omegas for this meeting. Heero's father was there, though. Heero knew that Beta-6 was his father because once he'd spit in Heero's face. Heero wondered what kind of test they were going through that needed an extra person. Maybe they were getting something good. After all, last week, they defeated the Thetas. Heero had been essential in that mission.
Heero didn't have to wait long to find out what his father-Heero Yuy the Second-was doing there. Just a few minutes after he came in, Dr. J stepped between the two rows of Omegas.
"I understand that several of you have a request," J said. This was news to Heero. He didn't even know they had the power to make requests. Except for Daemon. He was group leader.
Daemon stepped forward. He saluted J and waited to be recognized.
"Ah, yes," J said. "Omega-1, what is your request?"
Daemon looked straight ahead. He did not blink. "Weakness is failure and failure is death. Please, cut from us our weakness, Dr. J, so that we may live for you."
Heero watched with dawning horror. He knew why Beta-6 was there. He, Heero, was the weakness. His father would choose how he was cut from the unit. The were a few times this happened before, but Heero never thought it would happen to him. Especially after he just saved the lives of his entire unit.
"What is your weakness?" J asked, following all the proper procedures.
"Omega-12," Daemon answered. He pointed Heero as the rest of the Omegas echoed him.
"Very well," J said. He turned to Heero's father. "As the parent of this wilted weapon, you must choose with how it will be dealt. You have three choices: it can be killed, it can be contained, or it can be reconditioned."
Please, not the Box, Heero thought. He was reconditioned once and vowed never to go through that torture again. If I can't help my unit, just kill me.
"Recondition," Beta-6 said.
Heero let out a scream that could be heard throughout the base. Arms grabbed him and carried him to the Reconditioning Room. He screamed the entire time.
"NOT THE BOX!" Heero screamed, over and over. His voice grew hoarse, his throat raw and sore. Still, he kicked and screamed. "Don't put me in the Box! Just kill me! KILL ME!"
Heero could hear the Box being opened, and he screamed louder, kicked harder. He even bit a couple of people. They threw him in. It was as cold as he remembered. An unpenitrable cold. Colder than mere water cold ever hope to be. Because it wasn't water. They strapped him in and shut the door.
The It started. The images. They didn't stop.
***
Quatre jerked away from Heero. He ran to the bathroom. He threw up long before he got there.
Selune