Gundam Wing Fan Fiction / Fan Fiction ❯ Peace, Love, and Family: The Story of the Vanuli Three ❯ The Morning After the Night Before ( Chapter 24 )

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

Category: crossover, fantasy, general

Author: Selune

Author's site: http://www.gundam-wing-universe.net/fanfiction/menu.php?id=113

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

Chaptre 24: The Morning After the Night Before

Quatre, Harry, and Dorothy sat outside the Infirmary, waiting for any and all news about Heero's condition. They had been waiting all night-ever since Dorothy had the good sense to levitate Heero up there-and the most information they'd gotten was "Well, he's not dead," from Quatre's sister, Maddy. She floo'ed in the minute Quatre contacted her secretary.

"How long is it going to take them?"

Quatre looked up from the floor at the outburst. There was an interesting stain there, and he had been trying to figure out what it was.

Harry, the owner of aforementioned outburst, paced up and down the hall. His wings, what was left of them, drooped so low that they skimmed the floor. His mask was cracked, laying on the floor, a victim of Harry's anger. Harry's make-up ran down his face and neck, making him look more like a clown than anything. His hair, neck, chest, legs, everything was covered with blood, making his clownish face all the more scary.

Quatre knew he probably didn't look too much better. He'd torn his wings off in a fit of rage, and the tatters lay beside him, some bits still sticking out of his back. Quatre's own make-up ran down to his neck, a consequence of crying on Heero to get his wound to close. Quatre's hair was haloed with dry, flakey blood, his costume and shoes ruined where he'd knelt in the pool of blood beside Heero. All in all, Quatre was a nasty, skanky mess, but he wasn't leaving to clean himself up until he got to see Heero.

"Why can't we see him yet?" Harry snapped again, exhibiting the emotion for which Blood was most famous: anger.

Quatre looked at Dorothy, expecting to see the same emotion, and was surprised when he didn't. He scooted over beside Dorothy and put his arm around her. "It'll be okay, Dot," he said. Her blank eyes stared straight ahead, and she neither blinked nor acknowleged him. Quatre rubbed her shoulder and lay his head on it. "It's gotta be."

The squeak of a door opening made Quatre jump up. He looked and was excited to see Maddy, until he noticed her expression. "What's wrong?" he asked. He moved to go past her, but she blocked the doorway.

"First off," Maddy said, the serous look still on her face. She was in full-on, one hundred percent Healer mode, and that was never a good thing. She was only like this if it was bad. "First off, the good news. Heero is alive and stable."

Alive and stable?Quatre thought. Not alive and well? This can't be good.

"The bad news," Maddy said, "is that Heero is in a coma."

"A coma!" Harry exclaimed. He tried to push past Quatre, but Quatre didn't let him.

"Why?" Quatre said. He would have to be the voice of reason, until Harry calmed down and Dorothy got her head on straight.

"Well, as you may or may not know," Maddy said, looking down at the chart she carried. Quatre hadn't even noticed it. "All living things have some magic in them. This magic is a necessary part of any organism's survival. If all of the magic-every last drop-is taken out of an organism, it will die."

"Yes," Dorothy said, sounding more like herself than before. It was the first thing she had said in ten hours. "That's the principle on which Fury Shooters work. Each setting takes out a different percentage of magic. Setting it on "kill" takes out all of the magic."

"And that's exactly what happened," Maddy said. "Only Heero was wearing a very peculiar alloy-"

"His anklet," Dorothy said. She held it up, and Quatre realized she'd been toying with it the entire time. "I took it out of his cheek."

"That little strip of metal may well have saved his life. The Gundamiun soaked up pieces of Heero's magic over the months he's been wearing it, and it released it when Heero's magic was sucked away," Maddy said, inspecting the anklet.

"But, there were complications," she said, giving the anklet back to Dorothy. "The Fury Shooter caused the scar Heero has on his chest and back to burst open. This was actually more harmful than the Fury Shooter itself. I'm reasonably sure that Heero would be dead-as in the really, truly, not coming back variety-if that boy," she checked her notes, "Daemon Rosencrantz, hadn't gotten tohim in the first few seconds after the Incident."

"Yes, but why is Heero in a coma?" Harry asked, his voice softer than before. Quatre could practically feel the anger leaving hs brother. For the moment, at least. "Quatre closed the wound, I put most of his blood back in him, and Rosencrantz gave him magic."

"To put it simply, Heero couldn't take enough magic from Rosencrantz to keep him awake," Maddy said. "Unlike humans, Vanuli are inherently magical, meaing that all Vanuli have sufficient quantity and the ablity to use magic. When either the quantity of or ability to use magic goes away, the body shuts down until the defficiency is fixed."

"How long do you think that'll be?" Quatre asked, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, dreading the answer. Why did these things always happened to Heero?

"On his own, about six weeks."

Harry looked positively green at that, and Quatre felt about as good as he looked. Six weeks without Heero? It was out of the question.

"However," Maddy said, "if enough magic coud be harnessed and given to Heero, I think it might be good enough to wake him up."

"Well, then, what are we waiting for?" Harry said. "We can give him our magic!" Harry tried once again to push past Quatre and was once again rebuffed.

"I'm afraid that won't work," Maddy said. "I thought of that, too, but when I did the calculations, it wasn't pretty. To sacrifice the amount of magic Heero needs would put the three of you into comas. You'll need at least twenty people, other Vanuli being preferable. I'm not sure how he would react to human magic, at the moment."

"Can we see him now?" Quatre asked after a moment of silence.

Maddy nodded and stepped out of their way. "Yes, but only for a few minutes. You still have classes to go to." She winked at Quatre, and he knew that she was just saying that for show. She would let them come back and stay with Heero as long as they wanted, after Madame Pomfrey left.

Quatre reached Heero's bed and pulled back the dividers. He looked so helpless, lying there amid the machines Maddy had set up around him. Heero was stripped of his costume and was wearing one of those gowns universal to hospitals.

Quatre took Heero's right hand-the one without an I.V.-and kissed it. He sat down on a chair next to the bed, still holding Heero's hand.

"Hey, there, 'Ro," Quatre said, stroking his thumb over the back of Heero's hand. He fought not to cry, but a sob escaped. "You're gong to be okay, baby. Just...hang in there. We'll get you out of this, me, Harry, and Dorothy. You're going to be just fine."

Harry and Dorothy pulled up chairs around Heero's bed. Harry grabbed Quatre's free hand, Dorothy got Harry's other, and she laid her right hand on Heero's thigh. They were connected, all together. A family.

***

"So we're agreed then? On the new plan?" Dorothy asked Harry and Quatre. She was back to her usual forceful self, bounding back after hearing Madrigal's diagnosis. Based on that and the fact that the more intelligent of Hogwarts students (read: Hermione Granger) had probably figured out that the Fury Shooter was Vanuli in origin, Dorothy, Harry, and Quatre decided to tweak their earlier plan.

Last night, after the unmasking ceremony-which never happened due to a certain interruption-Dorothy and her Niamos were going to make an announcement to the sixth and seventh years, which would, no doubt ,trickle on down to the first years by breakfast. They were going to announce their Gifts, leaving out the fact that the boys were Oracles and any mention of Vanuli. They were going to say they were a "matched set," such as it was, and were a sort of quadrangle/circle. That would have accounted for their unnaturely close bond, and no one would be suspicious of them being near one another.

Thatplan was shot to hell when that bitch/bastard/whoever-it-was (Dorothy was working under the assumption that the Fury Shooter was stolen by either Dr. J or Voldemort. She felt it with more conviction when she learned the last word Heero spoke. Neither Heero's mother nor sister nor niece would ever attack him.) ran a Fury Shooter, which was decidedly, no mistaking it, Vanuli, through her youngest Niamo. After that, the remaining three decided they had to mention the Vanuli, or else risk suspicion from the Ravenclaws and Granger. They finally settled on still using their Gifts as a reason for their bond, saying they were from some of the eight lower-class clans, and not mentioning the word "triplets" in any way, shape, or form.

"Yeah," Harry said.

"I got it," Quatre said.

Satisified, Dorothy nodded and opened the door to the Great Hall. The room was silent as Harry and Quatre fell in behind her, flanking her on both sides. She knew they must look a sight, as they were still in their costumes from last night. None of them had bothered with so much as a cleaning charm. By the time Dorothy reached the teacher's table, every eye in the room was on her and her boys.

She had planned it like this, for it to be right before Professor Dumbledore's morning announcement, when the students instinctively quieted down enough to hear a sickle fall. Dorothy looked out at her audience, Quatre on her right side, Harry on her left.

"Dona Maya," Dorothy-Ismea-said. By the blank looks on most of the students' faces, she knew she'd already lost them. No matter; she expected it. "That means 'I wish upon you and your family a long life and much happiness.' It is of Vanuli origin, a greeting given to another who is not a part of one's family.

" 'Donai Maya' is the greeting given to a member of one's own family. It means 'I wish upon you and our family a long life and much happiness.' " Dorothy turned to Quatre. "Donai Maya, Malal."

Quatre took Dorothy's hands in his. "Donai Maya, Ismea," he said. He kissed her on the cheek-a clean spot, not covered with blood-and the two of them switched places.

"Dona Maya, Hogwarts," Quatre said with a flourish. He bowed and turned to Harry. "Donai Maya, Nelat." Again, he took Harry's hands in his and kissed Harry's cheek.

"Donai Maya, Malal," Harry said, taking up his position center stage. It was decided, when they were in the Infirmary, before getting kicked out by Madame Pomfrey, that Harry would do most of the talking because he knew and was known by more people.

"I can see that most of you are wondering whaat in the hell this has to do with anything," Harry said. Dorothy could tell, even through the caked on blood, sweat, and make-up, Harry was fighting back a blush. "It, in fact, has everything to do with everything.

"Last night," Harry hopped off the platform and began walking, "right about here," where Heero had fallen, remarkably free of stain, "tragedy struck. A Fury Shooter-a Vanuli device designed for defense-went on the offensive and struck down a Vanuli, my cousin, Imela LeFey, more commonly known as Heero Yuy III."

The three of them, by Harry's prompting, had decided to use their own names, to cut down on confusion. He had reasoned that the majority of humans didn't even know what Vanuli were, much less their class system, and those that did know rarely ever knew which house went with which class. If, by some miracle, one of the people with all the correct information was in Hogwarts, they would lie and say the information was outdated.

"We had wished to make this announcement last night," Harry said, walking up and down the aisles, studiously avoiding the Gryffindor table. "Unfortunately, Heero's injury-and almost-death-took precedence over it." Harry reached the platform again and faced the students. "I'm here to tell you, now today. Dorothy Catalonia, Quatre Winner, Heero Yuy, and myself are Vanuli. We go by the names Ismea, Malal, Imela, and Nelat, respectively."

The students exclaimed at this. Dorothy heard "Harry Potter's not human?" and "What's a Vanuli?" and "I bet they work for You-Know-Who?" and even a "Pod people! Pod people!" from a second year Muggleborn at the Hufflepuff table.

"Please, be quiet," Harry said, holding up his hands for silence. He tried twice more, but the noise just seemed to get louder.

"Shut up!" Dorothy yelled, authoritative. The students shut up, and surprisingly, the teachers. Dorothy had almost forgotten about them.

"Thank you, cousin," Harry said before turning back aroung to face his audience. "As I was saying, Vanuli are a type of fay, and yes, that does mean fairies. However, we are not cute little pixies-Cornish ones notwithstanding-and we will not be treated as such. We are a dignified species, too highbrow for the likes of-"

Dorothy clamped her hand over Harry's mouth before he could say anything potentially damaging. It was a common trait among the Vanuli to look on anyone they felt was inferior-which meant pretty much anyone-especially while angry or in grief. Even those who were normally very much about equality and human rights could fly off the handle if suitably upset.

"As Harry was saying," Dorothy said after moving Harry back, "Vanuli are a magical species. Certain Vanuli are so powerful, they could wipe us all out with a wave of their hand, no wand required. We, however," Dorothy motioned to Quatre and Harry, "are not nearly so powerful. No, we are merely cousins bound together by certain talents we have." Dorothy motioned for Quatre to continue. She couldn't do that self-effacing "like me, I'm such a nice girl" attitude for more than a few seconds, or she'd puke.

"Professor Lupn told the seventh years on the very first day of classes about four very rare talents, called Gifts," Quatre said. He had a serious expression on his face, but also one that said "I'm just a harmless puppy dog, don't hurt me." Dorothy hid a smirk behind her hand, disguised as a cough. Only Quatre could pull that off.

"The Gifts of Flesh, Blood, Bones, and Tears are very unique talents," Quatre continued. "They are often classified as "dark" because of the ease with which a Gifted person can hurt another. They can also be used for good. Heero, with the Gift of Flesh can just as easily heal the physical effects of the Cruciatus curse as he could peel the skin off your body, inch by inch. Harry, with the Gift of Blood, can just as easily put the blood back in a body-as he did to Heero last night-as he can pull it out. Dorothy, Gifted with Bones, can heal a broken bone, or liquefy your skeleton with the same amount of effort. And I, with the Gift of Tears, can close a wound with my tears or rain acid down on an unsuspecting victim

" 'With great power comes great responsibility,' they say. Whoever they are. Separately, me, Dorothy, Harry, and Heero are powerful. As far as wizard standards go, anyway. But together, we are so much more than that. For the first time in over eight centuries, Earth has a matched set, a perfect circle, of Gifts. Together, we are so much more than we could ever be apart.

"Don't any of you ever dare forget that."

After his threat, Quatre started to walk out of the Great Hall. A little startled-they hadn't threatened enough-Dorothy grabbed Harry and hurried to catch up with him.

"Well, that wasn't bad," Dorothy commented the moment the door was closed between them and the other students.

"No worse than we expected," Quatre said. He crossed his arms and glared at the door. The noise in the Great Hall was probably audible in Gryffindor Tower.

"Yes, except that now all I'm going to hear from anybody is "Why didn't you tell me?" and "I thought we were friends!" and everything like that," Harry said, whining in all the right parts.

"You'll live," Quatre said, putting an arm around Harry's shoulder. "Come on. Let's get cleaned up. If we time it right, we can probably sneak in to see Heero again before class."

"Maya Donai," Dorothy siad, hugging them both of her boys before turning to go to the Slytherin Dungeons. Now that she thought about it, she had never felt more disgusting in her life. And while she was down there, she would see about rustling up some twenty-odd Vanuli.

***

"What did you say?" Harry asked, incredulous. Not thirty minutes after leaving breakfast, he was in Snape's class, waiting for Double Potions to begin. Unfortunately, that meant class with the Slytherins, one incredibly dumb one in particular.

"I said," Malfoy said, getting right in Harry's face, "that if you're supposed to be such great powerful, fairy beings, why is Yuy still in the Infirmary? For that matter, why didn't he have the good sense to duck instead of flying right up into it? If you ask me, he's stupider than that idiotic, sniveling goat chasing after him."

Harry was trying to control his temper. Really, he was. It was just that with every word Malfoy spoke, he got madder and madder. Quatre's hand was on his shoulder, a preemtive attempt to calm him down. It might have worked, except that Quatre's anger was meeting his own, making it more than double.

"I'm going to give you just one chance to shut up and go back to your seat," Harry said, more calmly-much more-than he felt.

"And what if I don't?" Malfoy said, moving closer, actually bumping into Harry. "What are you gonna do about it? You gonaa bleed on me?" Malfoy looked at Quatre. "Cry on me, maybe?" He put his fists on his eyes and pretended to cry like a baby. "Waah. Waah.

"Pathetic." He dropped his hands to his side. "All of you. Pathetic, little nothings. Especialy Yuy. Went and got himself killed, didn't he? If not, too bad. An idiot like that deserves to die, with the Dark Mark flying high in the sky. Dead, and it's all your fault, Potter-Oomph!"

Harry coudn't stand it any more. He saw red and pounced on Malfoy, knocking him-rather roughly-to the stone floor. Harry saw more red and started pounding away at Malfoy's face. Pinning him to the floor with his knees, Harry hit and punched and scratched Malfoy's heretofore unmarred face, drawing more blood than should be humanly possible. Harry heard a wild animal screaming and realized it was himself. Malfory wasn't making any noise.

"What's going on here?" a female voice asked. Harry recognized it as Dorothy. "Stop it, Harry." Something Harry never thought she would say. This creature, this pathetic human vermin, this scum, insulted his brother and deserved to die. Harry would make sure he did.

"Mr. Potter!" Snape yelled, finally entering the classroom. "Stop this, immediately!"

Hands grabbed at Harry and pulled him off Malfoy's body. Harry tried to shrug them off, but they were too big. Meaty, even. Crabbe and Goyle. Harry scratched hem in an attempt to get away. He pulled blood from them like draining pasta. He pulled it from his scratches, other small wounds they had, their pores, even. Harry felt them getting weaker and focused his attention back on Malfoy, the little ferret. He was worse than scum, worse than vermin, and he would die. Harry didn't need to touch Malfoy to kill him. All he needed was one tiny scratch, and he had a whole lot more than that.

Harry focused on Malfoy and willed him to die.

***

Heero didn't know where he was. It felt familiar but different, if that made any sense. It was dark, the deepest dark of death. But he wasn't dead. He could feel his body lying on a bed of some sort. He could feel his body, smell the air, taste something metallic in his mouth, but he couldn't move, couldn't open his mouth to call out for help.

Heero wasn't cold. That, if nothing else, told him he wasn't dead. Being dead always meant darkness and coldness and waiting. Waiting to live, waiting to move, waiting to wait. He was waiting now, but it was different, sort. Heero couldn't quite put his finger on it.

What is going on here?

Selune