Gundam Wing Fan Fiction / Fan Fiction ❯ Peace, Love, and Family: The Story of the Vanuli Three ❯ Harry Finds Out ( Chapter 10 )

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 10: Harry Finds Out

A large clatter from outside the door startled Heero. He bolted upright, out of Quatre's arms. "What was that?"

Heero looked back at Quatre. His eyes were closed-he was Looking. Quatre opened his eyes and shook his head.

"It was Harry," Quatre said quietly. "He knows."

Quatre ran his fingers through Heero's hair, ruffling it. He pulled Heero's back to him and kissed the top of his head. Heero reveled in his big brother's ministrations. Quatre knew all of his buttons, just like Heero knew all of his.

Still, dreadful butterflies-not nice ones like he played with before the day turned bad, but the awful, horrible kind-threatened to overtake his throat. Heero couldn't stop thinking about what they would do if Harry rejected them. That was really the only reason Heero and Quatre hadn't told him yet-fear of rejection. When Heero first told Quatre what they were-what they probably were- to each other, Quatre didn't want to believe it. It wasn't until Heero became seriously injured on a mission that Quatre came to accept it. Heero hoped he wouldn't have to do that again. It hurt enough the first time.

"Should we go after him?" Heero asked. He sat on the edge of the bed, ready to leave if Quat said they should.

"No," Quatre said. He pulled Heero over to snuggle on his chest. "He needs some time to himself. Besides, he's got to come back sometime."

"Yeah, I guess so," Heero said. He closed the curtains around the bed, and they settled in to wait for the return of their brother.

***

Harry ran from the tower, ignoring the shocked protests from his friends and peers as he pushed them aside in his haste to get away from Heero and Quatre. Away from his startling discovery.

They were his brothers. That was their big secret. Their huge secret.

Harry ran, neither knowing nor caring where he ended up. Harry's flight came to an abrupt stop when he reached a door he recognized. The Room of Requirement. Harry knew what he required, what he needed. He needed answers. He needed to know why they didn't tell him, if indeed it was even true. Harry didn't know absolutely for sure that he was who they were talking about. There could be another Harry who almost died today here at Hogwarts.

Yeah, right. Harry knew that their was a 99.9% chance he was the subject of their discussion. The only way to know for sure, however, was to ask them. That wasn't going to happen. Not anytime soon, anyway. Harry didn't know if he would be able to keep his temper under control. Whether he was their brother or not, Harry had a reason to be angry. If he was their brother, they had withheld pertinent information by not telling him straight to his face that day on the train. If he wasn't, they had outright lied by saying he was, even if it was just to each other. The only way Harry knew for him to be able to calmly find the answer was if the Room told him.

Harry took a deep breath and opened the door. The Room of Requirement was much different from the last time he'd been in it, during fifth year. Then, it had been large, with an assortment of Defense books and areas in which to practice counter-curses. Now, it was small and round. It was maybe fifteen feet in diameter, and the ceiling was so low Ron wouldn't be able to walk upright. Dean would have to double over just to get in the door. The only light in the room came from a small candle. The only other object was a black mirror.

Harry stalked the few feet to it, slamming the door behind him. He picked up the mirror and glared at it.

"Great," he drawled. "I reckon I'm supposed to divine my answer. Perhaps I shall go outside, and the stars will tell me what I wish to know."

Despite his mocking, Harry sat down and gazed into the mirror. After all, it was his only other option. Quickly-how quickly, Harry didn't know-the dark room melted away to be replace with a bright one. He was in the Gryffindor seventh year boys' room. He was on Quatre's bed. In Quatre's body.

***

Quatre continued petting his brother and kissing him on the head. Over the years, Heero had come to be a very tactile person, in part from his Gift and the rest from a childhood lacking such luxuries as a loving touch. Quatre's touches always calmed and comforted Heero. Sometimes they were the only thing that would. Quatre was very touchy-feely, too, so he never minded it when he was called upon to help his brother in this manner.

Quatre loved Heero more than anything in the world or in the colonies. Heero was everything to him. His sun, his moon, his earth, his life, his heart. Quatre once said that Heero was the heart of space, but he was so much more than that. Quatre knew that if Heero should ever die, he would go insane with grief. When Heero was given the scar on his back, he died. Quatre killed the individual responsible, but not before he made him watch as Quatre had his entire species annihilated. Quatre felt no remorse for the act, and he never would. No one who hurt his family would live.

Harry was family. He was fast gaining ground in Quatre's heart and would soon share an equal place with Heero. The prospect both scared and excited Quatre. Their triumvirate would be complete; they would be whole. They would be able to Fuse together, to become one. Even if they didn't Fuse, they would still be able to do more, magically, than they would ever be able to do separately. Their bond would strengthen, and they would grow closer every day.

But it all depended on Harry. On whether he accepted or rejected his brothers. At this point, Quatre wouldn't be too averse to maiming Harry, at the very least, if he hurt Heero by rejecting them. The only things that stopped Quatre from seriously considering the idea was his own growing love for Harry and the knowledge that the act itself would hurt Heero. Quatre would never deliberately hurt his baby brother. He loved him.

Heero looked up at Quatre. "Do you think he'll be back soon?" Heero asked.

Quatre kissed Heero's forehead, a quick peck that left their magics briefly intermingled. "I don't know when he'll be back. The future's more your department than mine, Ro."

"Well, should I look then?" Heero said. He sounded uneasy, and with good reason. There was no way Quatre was going to let Heero use that large an amount of magic after the day he'd had.

"No," Quatre said. "You drained yourself too much today, and you lost too much blood. You're too weak. You might hurt yourself."

Heero struggled out of Quatre's arms and turned to glare at him. "I'm not weak," he said. "I don't think that even I could hurt myself with a quick peek at my brother."

Quatre knew Heero would do that, even without having a knack for the future. He always got so angry whenever anyone mentioned his weaknesses. He was still sore about losing his physical strength when he gained his magic. But the fact of the matter was that he wasn't as strong as he used to be. He injured easily and took a while to recover.

"Just humor me. Please?" Quatre said, giving Heero a smile. Heero huffed but collapsed back into Quatre's arms. "I just worry. You know that. You could be the strongest, toughest guy on this world or any other, and I would still worry if you got a bee sting. It's my nature. I'm a worrier."

"I know," Heero said. He played with the buttons on Quatre's shirt before laying his hand over Quatre's heart. "Sometimes I just wish you didn't need to be."

"Don't wish that!" Quatre said with mock horror. "If I couldn't worry, I don't know what I'd do with myself."

"Um...," Heero trailed off. he scrunched up his nose in the most adorable way, pretending to think. "Write the great Arabian novel? Learn how to play another musical instrument? Get a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend, maybe? I don't judge."

Quatre hugged his brother tighter. "Heero, you know the only thing I need-the only thing I want-is my family. Nothing else. Just you and Dorothy and Harry."

"Yeah." Spoken softly, barely above a whisper.

"I love you so much, baby brother," Quatre said.

"And I you, big brother."

Quatre tilted Heero's head and kissed him on the lips. "Go to sleep, Heero. I'll wake you when Harry gets back."

"Okay," Heero and Quatre snuggled on top of the covers, Heero using Quatre as a body pillow. Just like before.

***

Dorothy Catalonia was pissed as hell. She hadn't seen her Quatre, her Heero, or her Harry (yes, her Harry; he may not know it yet, but he would soon find out) all day.

Of course, several of the other Slytherins had. Round about two, Draco Malfoy came into the common room, complaining about Harry and his new boyfriend. Dorothy's ears had perked up at that, but after determining that Malfoy had no new information, she had thoroughly hexed him. It took him hours to get "I want to be Harry's Potter's love slave" out of his robes. Every time he changed, it would appear on the new set. It was very cruel, very entertaining. It was what one got when he threatened, insulted, or otherwise hurt one of her Niamos.

And it looked like she would have to do it again. Over in the corner of the room, Duo Maxwell and Trowa Barton insisted on talking about her Heero and Quatre. She wasn't sure exactly what they were saying, but every now and then, she would hear their names. How Dorothy wished she had bought those short-range hearing devices she saw at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes earlier in the day. Extendable Ears, she thought they were. At the time, though, they hadn't seemed very practical.

Dorothy huffed and stood from her chair. It looked like she was going to have to ask them politely what they were discussing and why. Then, if she found their reasons malicious, disconcerting, or otherwise undesirable, she could do away with the offending parties and all witnesses. No one would be the wiser, and her precious darlings would be safe and unharmed.

"Ahem," she said in her cutest, most unassuming voice as she came upon the probable miscreants. They looked to her and instantly shut up. "I couldn't help but overhear..." She trailed off to give them ample opportunity to defend themselves.

"I told you we shouldn't talk about this down here, but no, you weren't going to let one little Gryffindor lover run us out of our common room," Maxwell said in a not-so-quiet aside to Barton. He pulled on Barton's robe. "Let's go."

Barton appeared as if he would follow but was reluctant to do so, so Dorothy stepped between the two humans, blocking Barton's escape. She put up her hands in that time-honored tradition to show that she was harmless. Of course, she was anything but harmless. Barton didn't have to know that.

"Please, don't misunderstand me," she said, giving Barton her million kilowatt smile. "I only meant to find out if anything bad happened to my friends, Heero and Quatre. As I said before, I couldn't help but overhear them mentioned, and I only hoped that they remain unharmed." Because if they aren't, I will hunt down the bastard who hurt them and make him watch as I rip his heart from his body and eat it, Dorothy added silently. She wisely decided saying that aloud might dissuade Maxwell and Barton from telling her the truth.

"Unless you count being thoroughly fucked as harmful, I'm sure your pals Quatre and Heero are A-okay," Maxwell said, clapping Barton on the back.

"What do you mean?" Dorothy asked cautiously. Surely he didn't mean...? No, that was preposterous. If Heero had succeeded in attaining the unattainable (namely one pissed of Shinigami), the entire school would know about it. There would be cakes and streamers. Heero would be doing his Little Happy Dance, named such for the way it made the audience feel, as well as the mood he was in when he did it. And Heero would currently be glued to Maxwell's side, not over in...wherever he was. Losing Duo was the only thing Heero ever seriously regretted about going to L1 with Quatre. If he caught him again, he'd never let go.

"I mean, Miss Dorothy, that one Mr. Winner was seen carrying one very naked Mr. Yuy out of the Forbidden Forest earlier today, wrapped only in a robe," Maxwell said, his face growing steadily darker as he talked. "The only thing you might want to do is talk to Quatre about being a little less rough. I've heard reports of blood."

Blood. That got Dorothy's attention, and quick. She hauled Maxwell up by the collar of his robe and held him against the wall. He was taller than her by about eight feet, so it was a little awkward; however, she had the superior strength. When it came to her children's safety, she could bitch-slap a dragon with a fully grown elephant. One measly human wasn't going to strain her any, no matter how much he fought back. And fight back he did. Maxwell kicked, punched, pinched with all the fervor of one who expects to be eaten by a large spider of some sort but wouldn't if only he could get out of the web. He settled down when he realized that Dorothy's grip did not loosen during his entire tirade.

"Now," Dorothy said, forcing a pleasant smile her face. It always helped to be as polite as possible. "You are going to tell me all the details of why my darling Heero was naked and bleeding. You will tell me everything, from the exact position of the sun and moon at the time of the occurrence to every subtle nuance that flickered across Quatre's face as he carried Heero. After you, Maxwell, tell me everything you know, Barton will spew forth all of his data. Then, I will be directed to the source of this knowledge, who will either confirm or deny what you and Barton just told me and will then proceed to elaborate upon your disclosures."

"And if we don't?" Maxwell asked, attempting to show that he was not fearful of her. The fact that he was shaking caused her to discredit that notion.

"The consequences of refusal are simple," Dorothy said, dropping Maxwell. She took out her wand and performed a complex locking spell on the portrait leading to the Slytherin common room. She set it to enact upon every window, every secret passageway, every opening in the dungeons large enough to fit a baby mouse through. "I will kill each and every one of you in such a manner that you will look fondly upon the drawing and quartering deaths of olden days and wish that you could have died in such a pleasant manner." Dorothy dropped the smile from her face, and several hardened Slytherins recoiled at the sight.

"Talk," she commanded. Maxwell obeyed.

***

After Dorothy heard what happened, she placed a general but strong Obliviate over the whole of Slytherin house. She couldn't let it get out that she made a death threat to approximately 250 people for what could have been no more than a scratch. Heero would never forgive her for hurting Maxwell. Quatre would probably give her a standing ovation and yell for an encore. Dorothy tended to agree with Quatre more than Heero when it came to the subject of Heero. He was a fragile doll who was to be protected at all times, no matter how many useless people had to die in the process. Such was the price of love.

Dorothy was very glad she did it. According to her calculations (which were most likely 1/10th of a pint off; it took three examples, but after the third time that she opened the veins of a boy about the same size as Heero, the informant was able to narrow down the amount), the amount of blood Heero lost could only have come from one thing. His scar must have broken open.

There was no way it could have happened during intercourse, as Maxwell had suggested. Firstly, the scab over the scar was too strong to be broken by any but the most strenuous and taxing of activities. It survived throughout a Vanuli party-or three. There was no way a little roll in the hay was going to defeat it. Secondly, Heero was not about to break a twenty month abstinence fest two weeks after meeting up with Maxwell again. Especially not with his own brother. Despite Vanuli laws and traditions, Heero and Quatre were still too uncomfortable with the idea of incest to have sex with each other. No matter how good a match Dorothy suggested they made.

So, the only possible conclusion was that Heero was attacked, and Quatre was merely tending to him. Which didn't really make much sense until a first year spoke up about Harry. Apparently, she heard from her friend in Ravenclaw who heard it from her cousin in Hufflepuff who was best friends with Dennis Creevy in Gryffindor who was the little brother of Colin Creevy, obsessed Harry fanatic/unofficial photographer that a centaur had been seen carrying Harry out of the Forbidden Forest approximately eleven and a half minutes before Quatre was seen with Heero. It was later discovered that a foreign Panther Lily had been practically incinerated about a quarter of the way into the forest. Dorothy put one and two together and came up with four-herself being four, of course. Heero and Quatre must have been in the forest for Heero's pre-puppy romp, Harry was lured in by the Lily, and in the subsequent rescue attempt, both Heero and Harry were injured.

Dorothy realized that they were probably busy afterward, what with the healing and nonexistent damage control. She still would have liked an owl, a house elf, smoke signal, something to inform her of the occurrences of the day. She decided that tomorrow, at breakfast, her eldest Niamo was going to get an earful of mayhem. Heero would, of course, get nothing but sympathy.

***

Harry put down the mirror and backed away slowly. He didn't need the bad luck that breaking it wold most certainly entail. That had to be the weirdest vision Harry had ever had. He'd not just seen the action, he'd been a part of it. Touched as they touched, smelled what they smelled, felt what they felt. First as Quatre, then as Dorothy. The softness of Heero's hair, the plumpness of his lips. The anger at Maxwell's disregard of Heero, then the delight as he recoiled in terror. He thought what they thought, as well. From every voiced thought to the almost-unformed ones they didn't even know they had.

It was the most intense, ongoing vision he ever had. He hoped never to have another one again. But it did help him piece things together. He could-to use Dorothy's words-put one and two together and come up with four. Only, based on his calculations, he was two. The second born. Quatre was one, and Heero was three. Dorothy's oldest, middle, and baby Niamos.

And if Harry was right, that meant something to terrifying for Harry to comprehend. He wasn't human, he was Vanuli. And not just any Vanuli. One of the triplets.

Harry didn't go back to his room that night.

Selune