Gundam Wing Fan Fiction / Fan Fiction ❯ Peace, Love, and Family: The Story of the Vanuli Three ❯ The Aftermath of the Fight ( Chapter 25 )

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

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

Chapter 25: The Aftermath of the Fight

"So, how did it go?" Quatre asked Harry, sitting on their bed. Madam Pomfrey-and Maddy-had kicked him out of the Infirmary hours ago, so he'd had nothing to do but wait until Harry got back from his "meeting" with Professor Dumbledore.

"Not bad," Harry said, looking uncomfortable, "but not good."

He didn't elaborate, and Quatre wondered why. Harry walked further into the room, and Quatre figured out why Harry was reluctant to say much more.

"Hello Ron. Hermione. Neville," Quatre said, keeping his voice free of any emotion, yet still mildly pleasant. "I suppose this is the first wave of interrogations." Quatre had been expecting something like this to happen since their little announcement that morning.

The trio stood near the door frame, none seemingly willing to be the first to approach the Vanuli. It reminded Quatre of the way someone would after coming upon a wild cat in a grocery store. Shocked and afraid, yet curious as to how it ended up there in the first place.

"Well, come in, come in," Quatre said, getting up and waving them forward. "I don't bite, unless you ask, and even then, only between two and four on Saturday."

Ron laughed at that until Hermione elbowed him in the stomach. "What?" he asked, appearing to be nothing more than a contrite puppy, with a flaming red face to match his hair.

"We're not here to have fun," Hermione said. "We're here to get answers, and as Harry wouldn't tell us anything in the Common Room-not that I blame him, mind you, there's much too many people in the Common Room to speak candidly about such a matter-"

"Hermione," Neville said, interrupting her. "Back to the point?"

"Oh, yes," Hermione said, turning to face Quatre and Harry, who were standing together in the middle of the room. "As I was saying, we'll have to question the both of you, in here. Neville, the locking spell?"

Quatre smirked-quick, small, and gone in half a second. "You of all people should know, Hermione, that a simple locking spell isn't enough to keep us in here if we don't want to be.

Hermione faltered and turned to look at Neville, then back to Quatre. "Nor would I expect it to. A first year could break this spell with a simple Alohamora." She kept her hands at her side. "This is simply to dissuade others from interrupting us and to inform us should anyone try to enter."

"Ah," Quatre said, and Hermione turned back to Neville.

"I'm really sorry about this," Harry whispered, leaning into Quatre. "I tried to get rid of them, but..."

"They're stubborn," Quatre finished. Quatre took Harry's hand. "Anyway, I expected this, and it's better than thinking about, well, you know." Harry nodded, and they finished the sentence together. Heero.

"I talked to Dorothy on the way back, and she said something about getting the centaurs and werewolves to help us out," Harry said. "She's not completely convinced that he has to have Vanuli magic to wake up."

"If not, that would be great," Quatre said, thinking back to a conversation he had with Dorothy in the Infirmary, before Maddy kicked them out, while Harry was being reprimanded for his display in Potions. "It's going to take two weeks to get all of our brothers and sisters here to help us, and that's cutting it rather close." Two weeks would be a mere two days before the full moon. If Heero wasn't awake and strong enough to deal with his wolves by then, they weren't really sure what they could do. Either Quatre and Harry would have to take over, or Snape would have to make a hell of a lot of Wolfsbane potion.

"Not to mention, we want to get him out of there-the Infirmary,his coma, his own mind-as soon as possible," Harry said.

"Yeah," Quatre said quietly. He tugged on Harry's hand. "C'mon. Let's sit down, and you can tell me what happened with Dumbledore."

They sat down on their bed, and Harry laid his head on Quatre's shoulder. "Well, it wasn't just Dumbledore," Harry said. "Snape was there and Malfoy's mother and Crabbe's and Goyle's parents. You should have seen it." He chuckled, and Quatre felt the vibrations. "Mrs. Malfoy was screeching about what an abomination I was, Mr. Crabbe kept trying to hit me with a cane-Dumbledore took everyone's wands before beginning the meeting, or I'm sure that a hex or twelve would have been thrown at me-Snape kept yelling for my expulsion, and I think Dumbledore was seriously thinking about it."

"What did you do to change his mind?" Quatre asked. Harary obviously wasn't expelled, or he would have been gone by now. But if anything deserved expulsion as a punishment, what Harry had done was it. (Not that Quatre disagreed with what his brother did. He was actually quite proud of Harry.) Rumor had it that Malfoy was transferred to St. Mungo's and wouldn't be awake for at least a week, even with numerous blood transfusions. Crabbe and Goyle were in much better shape, already awake and sent back to their dorms, albeit much weaker than they normally were.

"I summoned Relena's contract and had Dumbledore read the fine print," Harry said.

Aah, Quatre thought, understanding now. Relena and company had given them a copy of the contract before they left for Sank, and Quatre had it memorized almost word for word. Along with the standard clause-modified to include the students of Hogwarts as Professor Dumbledore's family-Relena put in a clause stating that Dumbledore would be breaching the terms of the contract (and thus be subject to the standard clause) should he "expel, suspend, or otherwise unjustly punish" any of the four Vanuli students for anything less than murder or an attempt thereof. Of course, what Dumbledore didn't realize was that killing humans was not considered to be murder among the Vanuli. The sentiment was similar to a human's at running over a dog or hearing about animal cruelty. "It's not murder if it's not my species," was a theory to which most Vanuli subscribed.

"I've never seen anyone pale as much as he did when he read that," Harry said, raising his head from Quatre's shoulder and unclasping their hands, so he could stretch. "I swear, he was as white as his beard."

Quatre looked at Hermione and realized he'd forgotten she was there, even though he'd been looking right at her for the past fifteen minutes or so. Her eyes were open wide, like a deer in headlights. She looked like she was debating whether to run or scream, and her companions looked the same way. Thankfully, they did neither, Hermione conjuring a chair to sit in, and Ron and Neville deciding to sit on their beds with the curtains pulled back.

After Hermione got settled in her chair-which resembled the plush, red one in the Common Room which she seemed to favor-she looked at Harry and Quatre. "Okay," she commanded. "Talk."

***

Harry looked nervously at his best friends and his boyfriend. He had no idea what to say to them other than what they already knew. If he tried to say anything more, he was sure that Hermione would pull the truth out of his half-lies and incomplete truths.

"Um," Harry said, fidgeting on the bed. He shook his left leg against the bed as he thought. "I don't really know what you want me to say." He quickly looked at the floor to avoid meeting anyone's eyes.

"You don't know-don't know what to say!" Ron exclaimed, rising from his bed to stand behind Hermione. "How about the truth? How long have you known? How long were you going to keep this from us? Why didn't you trust us? How can we trust you-"

"That's quite enough, Ron," Hermione said, holding her hand up in that universal gesture for silence. "There's no use getting ahead of ourselves." She put her arm down and turned back to face Harry. "Let's start with the basics. Are you a Vanuli, Harry?"

"Yes," Harry said without thinking. His eyes darted to Neville, who hadn't spoken a word since he did the locking spell. Neville refused to look at him, focusing (or not, Harry couldn't really tell) on the floor. "I was going to tell you last night, before we told everyone else, but.... Well, you know." Harry realized how pathetic that sounded, but even though he could shout Voldemort's name loud enough for the entire world to hear, he couldn't bring himself to say his little brother's. Not yet, anyway.

"Heero. Yes" Hermione said. Harry looked at her, and her eyes were filled with sympathy. It was cliché-the eyes filled with emotion bit-but right now, on Hermione, it was real. No one could ever accuse Hermione of being heartless (except maybe House Elves, but even the majority of them felt she was just confused, after learning why she did what she did).

"Yeah," Harry said. "I was actually just about to tell Neville when It happened." Neville still wouldn't look at him. "Afterwards, I was too busy to tell any of you anything."

"Okay," Hermione said. It was obvious that she hadn't been expecting him to say that by the way she twirled her hair around her finger. Clockwise meant she was scheming, counter-clockwise meant she was worried, clockwise and up meant she was confused, and counter-clockwise and up meant she was surprised. After six and a half years of being friends with her, Harry learned her many tics. "I suppose that's understandable, given the circumstance..."

"What else were yo going to tell me last night?" Neville asked, startling Harry, and from their reactions, everyone else in the room.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, snapping back and forth between irritated and nervous. Had he said something to make Neville believe there was more to it?

"You said, and I quote, 'we have an announcement to make, but I want to tell you beforehand, give you a little more information than the general public," Neville said, using air quotes at the appropriate times. "What exactly were you going to tell me?"

"I, uh, I," Harry risked a peek at Quatre, trying to gauge what he thought Harry should say. Quatre had no expression on his face. Rather, he had that look of a movie extra, that faceless everyman look. Harry couldn't pick up any uniqueness in his brother that made his eyes want to linger. Harry didn't even want to know what that look meant.

He turned back to Neville, who had taken up position beside Ron, both of them flanking Hermione.

"We didn't plan to tell anyone that we were Vanuli," Harry said slowly, still trying to plan what he was going to say. "We were going to say that we were a circle, a rectangle, some sort of polygon, bound by the raw power of our Gifts. I was going to to a little bit farther and tell you guys that I wasn't quite human."

Hermione looked up at Neville and pursed her lips. "Is that it, Harry? Is there anything else you might want to tell us?"

No, was Harry's first thought, but he heard the underlying "if you don't tell us, we'll just find out some other way, and won't be happy about it. Not a bit." Harry swallowed his head. "No, that's not it."

Harry sighed and stood up, pacing back and forth in front of the bed, never quite leaving Quatre's range of touch. He sat back down, now on Quatre's right and covered his face with his hands.

"Mother," Harry swore. "It wasn't supposed to be like this." He uncovered his face. "It's not like I woke up one morning morning and said to myself, 'Harry, just how can you alienate your friends from you? What would best do the job?' It wasn't like that. I didn't mean to keep secrets. It just-it just happened!"

Nobody said anything. Quatre interlaced their hands together and kissed Harry's hand. He lay his head on Harry's shoulder, all the while humming a tune Harry couldn't quite place. Quatre buried his face into Harry's shoulder and began to cry. The only indicator was the wetness on his shoulder. The others wouldn't be able to tell.

"It'll be all right," Hermione said, soothingly, and Harry was struck once again at how perceptive she was. "Just tell us everything, and we won't be mad."

Harry had one brother in the Hospital Wing, one brother crying on his shoulder, one protector too far away to help, four cousins who didn't know a damn thing was going on, and thirty-four as-yet-unmet brothers and sisters who couldn't get off their asses to come help for fourteen days. He had almost killed one classmate today and seriously wounded two others. He was growing further and further apart from Ron and Hermione, his best friends and lifelines since first year. He had made up with his boyfriend, only to be estranged mere hours later. He was going to fall apart-again-if he didn't do something, quick.

"Okay," Harry said. "I'll tell you everything, but first, I need you to sign something." Harry conjured three standard Silencing contracts, all with the standard clause. After signing it, if the trio spoke of what Harry told them and anyone else heard, they would forfeit their lives and the lives of their immediate families as a punishment. Harry didn't want to do it, but it was necessary. His secret could not get out to the general populace.

"Read them completely, including the fine print, before you sign them," Harry said, handing out the contracts. "If any of you feel that you cannot abide by the agreement in the contract, please leave the room, immediately."

Harry waited until Hermione-no doubt the fastest reader in all of Gryffindor, if not the entire school-finished reading. He didn't really expect Ron to read it, so he wasn't surprised when Ron just stared at the contract for fifteen minutes. Hermione told Ron and Neville what it said, including the standard clause.

All three signed it, which surprised Harry. He thought for sure that Hermione wouldn't risk her parents' lives just to sate her own curiosity. Ron's signing was almost a given, though, either believing that it was some sort of twisted joke or that Harry would never willingly hurt him, even if he did go back on his word. Harry didn't really know what to think of Neville signing. Even though Neville was his boyfriend (or was it ex again?), Harry knew him the least of everyone in the room.

"Are you all sure of your decision?" Harry asked. Quatre had stopped crying and was looking at Harry's friends. "If you've changed your mind, I can burn your contract, and you can just walk away. Once I start spilling the secrets, you can't back out. And trust me, those contracts will be enforced, even if I don't have the heart to do so.

"So," Harry said, "anyone want to leave?"

Hermione wanted to stay, there was no way Ron was leaving, and Neville wasn't going anywhere.

"Okay, then," Harry said, and he told them everything, starting with Heero's prophecy.

***

Dorothy was not a happy camper. She'd been thrown out of the Infirmary thrice in half an hour (granted, visiting hours ended several hours earlier), her healthy boys were upset and too far away for her to comfort, the rest of their brothers and sisters couldn't get organized and together for another fourteen days, and now she was having to stand outside in the November chill and wait for a centaur!

"Miss Ismea," the messenger said, and Dorothy whirled around. It was the centaur who was chasing Heero. Zephyr or something like that.

"Yes," Dorothy said, raising an eyebrow at his appearance. He was covered in mud, leaves stuck to him like feathers on tar.

The centaur kneeled, its forelegs on the ground. "Zetoth Koel, son of Lorak, son of Brimor, leader of the clan Teldon, second brother to Bramtac, High leader of the Forest Centaur Alliance, ally to the Vanuli LeFey," the centaur recited.

Dorothy didn't usually deal much with lesser species (especially smelly ones, like this), but for her Niamo, she would kiss a camel in the hot Arab deserts after having mud dumped on it. Talking to a half-goat was nothing compared to that. "Ismea Mordal, Naiyama to and representative of Malal, Nelat, and Imela LeFey, sons of Morgan LeFey the Seventh, grandsons of Aravu LeFey, the Queen of Vanuli, and future king of the Vanuli race," Dorothy recited her ranking. She was pleased at how far up in the hierarchy she was. It was always embarrassing for her when she was just another daughter in just another warrior clan.

"What do your leaders say?' Dorothy asked, looking down at the centaur, who remained kneeling.

"The High leader feels that one clan of centaurs should be enough magic, Miss Ismea," the centaur said, looking down at Dorothy as he rose to his full height. "Leader Brimor of the Teldon clan has volunteered his aide. We will be assembled on the lawn tomorrow when the sun comes up, and we will remain there until you, personally, come to retrieve us."

"Thank you," she said. With the information she needed, Dorothy waved the centaur away. "You are dismissed."

Dorothy turned and headed back to the castle without looking back.

I hope this works,she thought.

***

Daemon held his breath as he stood outside of the door to the Hospital Wing. It was a few hours after curfew, and the last thing he needed right now was to get caught by some ill-tempered Prefect-or worse yet, a professor. Daemon should just turn around and go back to his dorm, and he would, just as soon as he saw Heero. Made sure he was all right.

Daemon could just smack himself. It was his fault Heero was hurt in the first place. If he'd just kept his mouth shut and pretended that he had no idea where Omega-12 was, J never would have found him.

If only I hadn't been so stupid, Daemon thought. Of course, J wasn't trying to track Heero down just to say "thanks for saving our asses."

When the war ended-the Muggle war-Heero disappeared. Hell, all of the Gundam pilots vanished from the face of the Earth. And her colonies. Daemon had been too surprised at J's miraculous recovery (he'd heard all about the "scientists go boom" event up in space) to worry about much about his intentions toward Heero. So when Heero showed up on the train on September 1st, contacting J was the first thing Daemon did after the feast was over.

He forgot all about it until one day when he accidentally ran into Heero in the hall. It was a weird day, and Daemon didn't remember much of it, just asking Heero to meet him the next morning, and giving him a note lest he forget. And again, the next morning, when Heero just lit into him, he forgot even why he was there until Heero was out the door. Then he promptly forgot again.

But there was no doubt in Daemon's mind that J was responsible for the attack the night before. Daemon knew a little bit about Vanuli culture, having become interested in it after he and his unit mates almost died because of Vanuli magic. So Daemon knew that another Vanuli would never attack Heero, whether he was an adopted son or a blood one-and Daemon remembered Heero willingly giving that magic (he thought they were called Fury Orbs, or something like that) to Dr. J after his stay in the Box. Therefore, Daemon reasoned, J most likely was, at the least, involved in the attack, if not the instigator. Which meant that Daemon was at fault, for telling the bastard where his ex-brother was.

Daemon listened hard at the door to the Infirmary and, hearing nothing, slipped in. He silently made his way to the bed on the end, as it was the only one with the curtains pulled and was probably Heero's. As Daemon sneaked closer and closer to the bed, he heard a noise. Someone talking. Daemon stilled, then silently crept forward to the bed next to Heero's. He scrunched down into a little ball and listened, free from sight.

"I'm so sorry," Daemon heard someone whisper. He thought the voice was familiar, but he couldn't quite tell whose it was. The voice gave a choked sob. Maybe I should leave, he thought. After all, it seemed to be a private moment. Daemon wavered. No, Daemon thought. I'll just wait until he leaves, take a quick peek at Heero, and then get out of here.

"Baby, if you'll please just wake up," the voice said, coming out of the whisper just enough for Daemon to tell it was a male's, "we never have to talk about any of that other stuff. Do you hear me? I forgive you, if only you'll come back and be all right." The voice stopped, and Daemon heard the smack that identified a kiss. "I love you, Heero." Some shuffling sounds. Feet. Sheets. "I have to go now, but I'll be back as soon as possible."

Daemon hunkered down even more as the boy left. He wasn't able to see who it was, but one wouldn't have to be a genius to figure it out. The sexual tension between Heero and Duo was so thick you could cut it with a plastic spoon.

When Daemon couldn't hear Duo's footsteps anymore, he stood up, his knees popping in protest at their treatment. Daemon looked around the curtain at Heero.

He didn't look like Heero Yuy should ever look. Heero was a guy who could bend steel bars with his bare hands. He could lay a room full of wizards flat on their asses after he'd been in the reconditioning chamber for over a month. Heero Yuy could blow up a Gundam while he was still in it and wake up a month later with barely a scratch on him.

Heero Yuy did not have skin as pale and as brittle-looking as tissue paper. His veins did not pop out, giving him an ethereal blue tinge. He was not swallowed whole by hospital beds and machines that bleeped and blipped and all in all did fuck else. Heero Yuy did not look like some small porcelain doll that would break if he touched it too hard.

"I'm sorry," Daemon said, ghosting his hand over Heero's left arm. "I'm so sorry." Daemon fell to his knees, buried his face in the sheets, and cried. "I'm so sorry."

Selune