Gundam Wing Fan Fiction / Fan Fiction ❯ Peace, Love, and Family: The Story of the Vanuli Three ❯ The Panther Lily ( Chapter 9 )

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 9: The Panther Lily

Harry's date went great! His and Neville's lunch was fantastic. There were no awkward silences and no feeling of wanting to be elsewhere. The butterflies in Harry's stomach danced less and less as the day wore on. There was one uncomfortable moment at lunch, when the check came. Tradition stated that the guy paid, but they were both guys. Neither wanted to seem unmanly and allow the other to pay. In the end, Harry paid because he was the one who initiated the date. Harry explained to Neville that that was the way many Muggles did it in the modern world. At least, according to the advice columnists Aunt Petunia read, that was how they did it. Neville agreed-as long as he paid for the Complecti Sigilla.

Which was awesome. It was unlike anything Harry had ever experienced. The only thing Harry could liken it to was Virtual Reality. Harry had played one of Dudley's V.R. games once. It was top of the line, the very best, most believable model available. It was nothing compared to Complecti Sigilla.

It all happened just like Neville described. Neville picked the title, as he had more experience with the Complecti Sigilla than Harry did. He picked something called Warriors of Alteron. It was all about these armies-one side completely male, the other completely female-fighting over breeding rights. The main characters were the leaders of each army-the Dagodites and the Acroulas-Armond and Tanzania, respectively. At first, Harry was miffed about being Tanzania (he didn't choose his character, the Complecti Sigilla did), but after he found out what an ass-kicking Amazon she was, he was okay with it. Still, it was weird seeing himself as a girl-especially in a dress. By the time it was finished, the Acroulas won. Neville, who played Armond, was a little upset. A well-timed kiss from Harry cheered him up considerably.

Now, their date was over, and Harry wanted to tell somebody about it. Ron and Hermione were still in Hogsmeade, so he couldn't tell them. Dean and Seamus were nowhere to be found. Neither were Quatre and Heero. Harry didn't really know them that well, but they seemed like the type to listen, even if they were a little weird. Understandably, Harry couldn't tell Neville about his date with him. That would be odd.

Hagrid! He wasn't supervising the students at Hogsmeade this weekend. Snape and Flitwick were doing that. He would probably be home, and Harry could go talk to him. Plus, Harry hadn't seen Hagrid privately in such a long time, and Hagrid always did like Harry's company.

Harry took off for Hagrid's hut. This was going to be fun-as long as Hagrid didn't offer him anything to eat. Harry didn't think he could handle that.

Harry could see Hagrid's hut in the distance now. The light's were off, and Fang-Hagrid's dog-was nowhere to be seen. Fang was always around when Hagrid was home. Harry couldn't count the number of times that he was coming to see Hagrid, only to be knocked down by the bloodhound. If Fang wasn't there, Hagrid probably wasn't either. Harry sighed inwardly, his spirits deflating a little bit. He really wanted to see Hagrid. Not just as someone to unload to, but as a friend. Now that Harry thought about it, he missed Hagrid.

Harry decided he would go to the hut anyway. Hagrid could be in there. He might have just brought Fang inside. Harry would never know unless he tried. Harry knocked on the door. Nothing happened. Not a creak, squeak, or groan to show that there was anyone inside. Harry peeked through the window. Not a soul in sight.

Harry sighed. I guess I'll come back later, he thought. I'll just try to find someone else until then. Maybe Luna'll listen. After all, it was through her meddling that this happened.

Harry turned to go back to the castle when a scream tore through the air. It was a horrible scream, the scream of a little girl afraid for her very life. It was coming from the Forbidden Forest. Without a second thought, Harry ran in the direction of the scream, wand at the ready.

***

Heero leaped up-again-when he heard the scream for a second time. The centaur leader, Bramtac, explained to Heero and Quatre the first time they heard it that it was a Panther Lily. It was a carnivorous plant that used a child's scream to lure unsuspecting humans into its grip. Heero understood this, but still, the scream was uncanny. Heero had a hard time making himself believe that it was a plant, not a child.

Heero and Quatre were in the centaur village. It was deep within the heart of the Forbidden Forest. It looked much like a village he had seen only once in real life, but many times in his dreams-the village of the clan LeFey. The houses were few in number but very large. They seemed to grow up from the ground, as if they were plants that had taken root. The roofs sprouted leaves, making it so the houses blended in with the rest of the forest.

Heero, Quatre, and many of the centaurs were in the center of the village, surrounding a large cooking pot. Heero watched, mesmerized, as one of the older females stirred the pot. Heero didn't know what was cooking, but whatever it was, it smelled delicious. As his stomach growled, Heero was reminded fiercely that he hadn't had lunch. At the time, food hadn't seemed so important-he'd been having too much fun. Now, it was definitely important.

So intent was he on the food, Heero didn't notice a young centaur settle beside him until he shook Heero's shoulder. Startled, Heero turned to face the young male. He was gorgeous. His hair was long and flowing, golden blonde in color. He lay beside Heero on the ground, his legs bent like a horse. He looked at Heero with something akin to wonder.

"What are you?" the young centaur asked. "Not to be rude or anything, but you smell different from any human I've ever met-not that I've met many, mind you. And you greeted my father with a Vanuli saying. Are you Vanuli?"

"Yes," Heero replied after a moment's deliberation. Surely, this creature would not know much about Vanuli, especially about Heero or his brothers. Vanuli were usually select in who knew any important information about them. Heero had never heard of a centaur being privy to Vanuli family secrets. Besides, it would be nice if someone knew who I really am-someone in no way connected to me-even if they don't understand my importance. Especially if they don't understand my importance. "My birth name is Imela LeFey, but I go by Heero Yuy. You can call me Heero." Heero shook the young centaur's hand. He shuddered as Heero allowed some of his magic to flow through their hands.

"I am Zetoth," the centaur said, "and I am honored to meet one of the heirs of the LeFey, the future king of the Vanuli people."

"You know who I am?" Heero asked, confused. No one except the other Vanuli was supposed to know who Imela LeFey was, especially such a low being. Dr. J didn't even know Heero's birth name. There should have been no risk in telling Zetoth. No one was supposed to know who they were!

"Our entire tribe knows who you and your brothers are. We are good friends with the LeFey clan. We were much saddened at your disappearance over seventeen years ago," Zetoth said. He pointed to Quatre, who was on the other side of the cooking pot, talking to several children. "I suppose that he is either Malal or Nelat. Or is he the Naiyama?"

"If you are such friends with the LeFey, then you should know that Naiyamas are always female. He is my brother, the First. He goes by the name Quatre Winner," Heero said calmly, even through his rising distress. No one was supposed to know! Heero had to impress upon Zetoth the importance of keeping their identities a secret. Heero took Zetoth's head in his hands, making it so the centaur had to look into his eyes. "You can tell no one, Zetoth. No one must know. We are only lowly middle-class Vanuli. We are not two of the Three. Our names are Heero and Quatre. Nothing else." Heero used his hands on Zetoth to anchor his message into the centaur's mind. If Heero did it right, Zetoth would only remember that.

"Of course you're name's Heero," Zetoth said, gazing at Heero as though he were the most important thing in the world. He took Heero's hands in his own. "And what a lovely name it is." He lowered his head to Heero's hands and kissed them, three times to the right hand, four to the left. Gentlemanly. As a centaur did to the one he was intending to court.

Heero jerked his hands away from Zetoth with such vigor that it sent the centaur tumbling forward. Heero ran away, not looking back at the handsome centaur. He would be courted by none but Duo. Even though Duo was not in the courting mood.

"Did I do it wrong?" Zetoth cried out after Heero. Heero didn't answer.

Quatre-who was close by-looked at Heero with questioning eyes. He didn't ask now, but Heero knew he would later. For the moment, though, he just followed Heero from the village, calling out his goodbyes.

Quatre's show of good manners was interrupted as another scream whisked through the air. It was of lower pitch than the previous screams, wholely masculine in timbre. Heero knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that it was Harry. A quick look at Quatre confirmed that he knew it, too.

Without a word, Heero tore off Quatre's robe and handed it to him. He transformed into a bird and flew in the direction of the scream. He knew Quatre would follow on foot.

***

Harry cursed his brave nature as he tried to curse the thing in which he was currently entrapped. If only he had gone to get help instead of going after the "little girl" on his own, he would not be in this mess. But no, Harry had to be the perfect Gryffindor and bravely rush in where even loyal Hufflepuffs feared to tread. and this plant just wouldn't take any damage! No matter what spell, curse, or charm Harry sent at it, it continued to bring him closer. Closer to the large, black cat in the middle of the vines.

The big kitty licked its mouth as the vines pulled Harry closer. He kicked, pushed, pulled, all to no avail. He couldn't break free, and it wasn't letting go. In one last desperate attempt to stay alive, Harry reared back his head and screamed as loud as he possibly could. He could only hope that someone would hear it and come to help him. He certainly couldn't help himself, not staring down the throat of that massive black cat nestled in a bed of vines, the plant that wasn't a plant. Neville would know exactly what it was. So would Hermione.

The thought of his friends gave Harry back his will. He wouldn't give up. He wouldn't! He was Harry Potter, Goddamnit! He was not going to be eaten by a vegetable! With renewed vigor, Harry fought against the plant.

Harry didn't have to fight alone. Not for long, anyway. Mere seconds after screaming, a large bird-a toucan, Harry believed, and if he had the time, he would have wondered what a tropical bird was doing in the middle of Great Britain-swooped down from the forest top. It attacked the vines that held Harry, snapping at them with its large beak. Harry watched, amazed, as the bird cut apart every vine holding Harry, as if the vines were no thicker than a sheet of parchment. His amazement quickly turned to horror as a vine came up behind the bird, ready to attack.

"Heero, look out!" Harry screamed, not noticing what he said, knowing only that the bird could not be allowed to die. He was to be kept alive at all costs. He was important.

Harry gasped as the bird turned to face the attacking vine. He had a large blot running down the feathers of his back, red in color, almost like a scar. He was quickly losing feathers, but the scar stayed. Harry went wide eyed as the toucan became something that was decidedly not a bird-a very naked Heero Yuy. Heero looked back at Harry, tears filling his eyes.

A soft swoosh was all that could be heard as Heero grasped the vine. It withered in his hand. Heero dropped the vine, and touched Harry. Everything went dark.

***

When Harry came to, it was to a very familiar place. The cold bed, the smell of sickness, the worried Hermione Granger sitting in the uncomfortable chair beside him. There was no doubt about it, he was in the infirmary. Only two weeks into school, and he was already laid up-that beat his old record by at least week and a half. Harry tried to sit up, but a sharp pain from his lower back stopped that.

"Ohh," he groaned, his hand automatically going back to feel the damage. There was a large bandage there.

Hermione must have noticed him do that because she was instantly at his side. "Oh we've been so worried, Harry," she said. She moved to the side, and Harry could see who the rest of "we" were. Ron and Neville. "Harry, what happened? Why did you go into the Forbidden Forest?"

"And why didn't you take us with you?" Ron asked, coming closer to Harry's bed. "We could have helped you with whatever trouble you obviously got into."

"Heero! How's Heero?" Harry asked. He realized that it was the exact wrong thing to say as soon as he said it. Neville-and Ron and Hermione-might get the wrong idea. Nevertheless, Heero saved his life; Harry had to know if he was okay.

"Why do you ask?" Ron said. Neville scowled and turned away slightly.

"He saved my life," Harry said. Didn't Harry's friends know that? Wouldn't they have seen Heero bring Harry back?

"No, he didn't," Neville said. His hands clenched at his sides. "A centaur brought you back. He told us you were attacked by something, he didn't say what, and he found you passed out on the forest floor."

"Yes, he did save me," Harry insisted. He knew Heero saved him. He knew it!

"Harry," Hermione said, touching his uninjured arm-the other one had been broken in the struggle. She sat down on his bed. "Why don't you tell us exactly what happened?"

Harry had to think. What exactly did happen? He remembered going to see Hagrid. The scream. Running after it. The plant-that-wasn't-really-a-plant. It tried to eat him. A bird saved him. The bird was Heero. Harry passed out. When he came to, Quatre was leaning over him. He pulled him out of the plant. And Heero. He lay on the ground, unmoving, like a corpse. It made Harry hurt. He ached to cure Heero and comfort Quatre, who tended to Harry's wounds with tears in his eyes. A centaur-a young one with long, blonde hair-came up to Quatre. They spoke (Harry couldn't make heads or tails of their words), and the centaur scooped up Harry. He must have passed out then, for he didn't remember anything else until the infirmary.

"A plant," Harry said. "There was a plant with a big cat in the middle. I'm not sure what it was, but it was black. Someone saved me. I thought it was Heero, was so sure that it was him, but maybe it wasn't. After all, why would he help me and then leave me to die in the middle of the forest, right? So I guess I just imagined that. I don't really remember anything else." Harry shook his head, partially to emphasize his helplessness in the matter, but mostly to hide his face. He couldn't believe that he was lying to his friends, even if it was such a small lie. But as much as he hated it, Harry knew he couldn't let them know about Quatre and Heero. When he thought of them, he felt something he never felt before. If felt like home. Harry wasn't sure why that was, but he was determined to find out. Tonight, if possible.

"Well, all right. If that's all you can remember, we won't pressure you," Hermione said. Harry knew she didn't believe him. He was a horrible liar-that was one of the reasons he didn't do it much. Harry wished he could tell them about Heero and Quatre. Or at the very least, think of a better lie. I guess I imagined it, wait, I can't remember. Ugh. Harry hoped that Hermione would just let it drop. He knew that, eventually, she would want to know what he was keeping from them. She looked back to Harry, and he pleaded with his eyes for her not to ask. She nodded. She would forget it-for now.

Both Harry and Hermione were saved from having to lie or withhold any more information from their friends by Madam Pomfrey. She bustled into Harry's little curtained cubicle, clipboard and quill at the ready.

"How's my favorite repeat patient?" Madam Pomfrey asked. Over the years, Harry had become close to Poppy (only to be called that in private, of course; in public, she was Madam Pompfrey). She was something like a favored aunt to him. They were almost as close as he and Remus, but not quite.

"I just missed you so much, Madam Pomfrey, that I decided I should come visit you. This was the only way I figured I could get and keep your attention," Harry joked. He knew she wouldn't take offense.

"Oh," Poppy said, putting her quill behind her ear. "Then perhaps all of the other visitors should leave. We wouldn't want all of your trouble to have been for naught, would we?"

Ron, Hermione, and Neville wisely took that as a subtle hint that their time was up. They left quietly, so as not to encounter her wrath.

Poppy sat down in the seat recently vacated by Hermione. She looked at Harry critically. "You had numerous cuts and contusions upon arrival to the infirmary," she said, beginning her rundown. Harry told her back in sixth year that he always wanted to know exactly what was wrong with him. Since then, she always told him. "Your right arm was fractured in three places, and a large chunk of flesh was taken out of your back and a smaller chunk out of your neck. There were bite marks consistent with that of a large feline. You are mostly healed, and can leave as soon as your arm is fixed. It shouldn't be long now."

Harry sighed in relief. As much as he liked Poppy, he still hated being in the infirmary. He was glad he would get out soon.

"However," Poppy said, stopping Harry in his thoughts. "However" was never a good word. "There was an anomaly. The bite mark in your neck, while not extraordinarily large, was nonetheless quite severe. Whatever it was that attacked you managed to tear your carotid artery. I have repaired the damage that occurred, but I shouldn't have been able to. You should have bled to death before you arrived at the Entrance Hall. But-it's such a thing-when I looked at the cut, there was very little blood. It was like you just stopped bleeding."

Harry stared at Poppy. Did Quatre do that? Or did he?

***

Quatre tended to Heero's wounds. He knew that his brother could fix them himself, but he wanted to do it. It gave him something to do until either Heero or Harry regained consciousness. Quatre had to stop as his emotions overwhelmed him. He almost lost both his brothers today. Quatre pulled Heero into his arms and cried. He hoped that some of his tears would help to heal his little brother.

Quatre cursed his inability to transfigure himself. If he could have overcome his fear of it, he would have gotten there sooner. Maybe Heero and Harry wouldn't be hurt as bad. As it was, Quatre got there just after Heero disabled the Panther Lily.

While the plant was out of commission, Quatre had dragged both of his brothers off the plant, away from its reach. He set to work, trying to save Harry. He had been in the grip of the Panther Lily the longest, and he didn't have Heero's Gift. Quatre knew Harry would need the most help. As it turned out, however, Harry didn't need to be saved again. His blood started clotting almost as soon as he was away from the Panther Lily. It didn't take long for Quatre to figure out what was happening-Harry had the Gift of Blood. His magic was saving him, even as he lay dying. Quatre, knowing he could do no more for Harry, had given him over to Zetoth (who had followed Heero to the danger like a puppy dog) with instructions to take him back to Hogwarts.

Then he had turned to Heero, only to discover something he had hoped never to see again. He was covered in blood. His scar-his damnable, blasted scar-had broken. Heero could not heal it, for it was a magic scar, a death scar. The most Heero had ever been able to do was scab it over. And that was only when he was awake at full power. He had drained himself too much to be able to even grow a new skin, if Quatre could get him to wake up.

So Quatre had done what he did every time his darling baby brother was hurt: he had cried. Quatre had buried his face into Heero's back, mindless of the blood, and sobbed with all the magic, all the emotion, that he could muster. He had held Heero's body off the ground. He'd been able to feel his tears coming out the other side of the old wound.

When Quatre hadn't been able to feel his tears dripping from Heero's chest any longer, he'd stopped crying. The scar had successfully scabbed over, but Heero had lost so much blood. Quatre had wished then-as he did now-that he could kill the one responsible for that wound. Unfortunately, even Quatre Raberba Winner could only kill someone once, and that particular someone was long dead. Quatre had then wrapped Heero in his robe and carried him back to the dorm. Thankfully, nobody had seen them.

Now, Quatre and Heero were on Quatre's bed. Heero was cleaned of the blood, and his wounds were tended. All that was left for Quatre to do was wait for Heero to wake up. Which he promptly did.

Heero opened first one eye, then the other. He gave a small smile when he saw who was holding him. "Is he okay?" Heero asked, grasping onto Quatre's forearms. "Did I get there in time?"

Quatre smiled back at Heero. His beautiful baby brother, who always thought so much of others and so little of himself. Quatre wondered if he knew how much he meant to him, how much he meant to all who knew him. Quatre placed his fingers over Heero's lips, to feel the gentle inhales and exhales of Heero's breath. It helped proved to him that Heero was still alive.

"Yeah," Quatre said through a choked voice. "You saved him. The Panther Lily was about to eat him, I think." Quatre ran his fingers from Heero's lips, down his throat, straight to his chest. Quatre could feel the scar just above the heart, but it kept on beating, same as always. More proof that Heero was alive. That he was okay. "Our brother is alive, Heero. Harry's alive. And so are you. So are you."

"What do you mean?" Heero asked, his eyes wide and open. Curious.

"I mean you could have died," Quatre said. He felt himself getting hysterical, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. "You almost died, you stupid idiot! How could you do that to me! How could you almost leave me?" Quatre crushed Heero to his chest. "You promised me you'd never leave me."

"I won't," Heero whispered. He kissed Quatre's neck, right on the jugular vein. "As long as you're there to catch me when I fall, we'll always be together. You, me, and someday, Harry."

Quatre held his brother tightly in his arms. It would happen exactly like Heero said. He wouldn't have it any other way.

***

Harry stood frozen outside the door. Poppy had let him go a few minutes earlier, and he had wanted to find Quatre and Heero. First, to see if they were all right. Second, to find out why they were so secretive. Third, to find out why he was so drawn to them. he wanted to know all the whos, whats, whens, wheres, and whys of their lives. Harry found out one-or rather, three. They were his brothers.

Harry ran from the tower. He had to think.

Selune