Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Crossing the Magic Line or When Gundams Get Wands ❯ Magic? WTF! ( Chapter 1 )
Or
When Gundams Get Wands
A/N: Yes! I’m writing…a crossover! O brave new world!…Spare me the slings and arrows, okay? I got this idea from a few successive dreams and decided to write it so that they’d get out of my damn head. BAH to those who do not see the perspective hottie-ness of the Gundam and Potter Boys in the same room. …Merph… Oh, and this is an attempt to write a non angst-driven story. It’s suppose to be humorous...with a LITTLE angst thrown in. Hey, I wouldn’t be TGP if I didn’t write angst. There will also be some romance. Woo!
Warnings: Yaoi-ness, Silly-ness, some Angsy-ness, Duo Bashing (because I hate the little bastard…Don’t. Ask,) Misuse of Magic (again, just don’t ask…,) Threesomes, Bitchy Chicks, Bad Language, the lake-squid getting some, and other Miscellaneous Bad Stuff. Heero and Harry centric.
Pairings: 1+(2x5) => 1x2x5, 3x4, HP/DM, RW/HG, SS/RL and various other minor pairings
Disclaimer: Well, Harry Potter and Gundam Wing aren’t rated NC-17 for homosexual boffing, now are they?
Magic? WTF?!
This was the last job one Heero Yuy ever wanted to take. There was so little information given freely and less could be pulled up, even with his skills. His would-be-employer was a complete blind spot. There had been no trail to follow. Not even cut offs. There was simply…Nothing. Phoenix was very, very good. This bothered Heero, of course. He prided himself in being able to find anything on anyone with almost scary accuracy.
Phoenix was alluding him and it really pissed him off.
Regardless of his lacking in ever showing it, Heero knew his own emotions well and felt them all freely. Anger was especially near and dear to him, what with all the missions he had to do with one Duo Maxwell, the Jester of the Gundams. Though… It hadn’t always been anger he was trying to hide around the braided pilot… Still, it was simply his choice not to show this abundance of feelings off. Feeling them made no difference to the need to finish a mission. Thus, there he was, diligently typing on his laptop, trying to find that damned Phoenix through his anger.
And still coming up with nothing. Heero scowled and pulled up the email again. He had to admit the man had an odd sense of humor, giving him that kind of fake email address. He had checked the sender’s address as well, but come up with nil. Still, he was sure the name “Phoenix” and the word “Order” had a special meaning to his mystery employer, but he hadn’t been able to come up with any new cults, militaristic organizations, or even businesses that fit. Sighing, he rubbed his forehead before looking over the letter again.
FROM: Phoenix @ Order.net
TO: Stoic_Blue_Eyes @ Wing.com
SUBJECT: Mission
---message begins---
Dear Mr. Yuy:
I am writing to you with the proposition of a job guarding a young man in my care. I have reason to believe that he is in grave danger from sources I cannot reveal. Your work during the Eve War and before have brought you to my attention. Should you accept this mission, you will be specially trained to add to your already impressive skills.
I understand that this is far too little information, but hope you will consider nevertheless. If so, be in London at King’s Cross Station on June 31st by no later than 6 PM. Go to Platform 9 and wait. Do not search for me; I shall send for you.
Sincerely,
Phoenix
---message ends---
The Japanese pilot sat back in his chair. He had received the message with only a week before the set date. It was now the night before. Heero still hadn’t decided whether he would be there or not, though he had flown to England. The whole thing felt bad and the lack of details was frankly intimidating. Heero tapped a finger upon the desk. If anything, he would make sure he had a weapon. He knew he’d be able to get out of any situation. Letting out a harsh breath, Heero got up and readied himself.
The station was rather busy when he arrived. It was more traffic than he really wanted to deal with. Not that he was afraid, mind you. With two wars behind him and his extensive training before, he was quite a match for anything. It was just uncomfortable. Still, he was curious about Phoenix and this might be his only opportunity. With a frown, Heero settled himself against the barrier between Platforms 8 and 9. There was time yet before six and he was a patient boy, even at seventeen years.
At five ‘til six, Heero noticed some…odder people going about the other side of Platform 9. He noted them with scrutiny. Some wore normal clothing in excess or in the wrong use while others dressed perfectly but simply felt strange. When they noticed him, they would either scurry away or calmly disappear behind the other side of the barrier, away from his cold gaze. One tall blonde man stared down his nose at him. There was something very disturbingly like Millardo Peacecraft in that regal gaze. A woman appeared from a crowd of both normal and strange people and started for him. Her hair was vividly red with streaks of gray. She was a plump sort and quite short, but still radiated power off her entire being. A mother, Heero presumed. Or perhaps Phoenix? The writer hadn’t hinting their sex, after all…Heero had simply assumed masculinity. And the red hair…
“Excuse me,” she said in a cheerful voice, her blue eyes sparking. Her accent was thicker than most he’d heard that day. “Do you have the time?”
Heero glanced at his watch. “Six.”
“Thank you, dear,” she replied and off she went, going to wait at Platform 10, away from his sight. Heero let out a loud breath and shifted, leaning back against the barrier. His eyes peered over the passers-by. Any of them could be Phoenix, the sadistic prick that lured him out there.
Suddenly, it seemed that children appeared from no where. Heero watched in subdued surprise as the odd people he had seen before made second appearances alongside children, most of whom were rattling off tales he didn’t care to listen to. Eventually, the red haired woman came out with two red haired children and a third with thick black hair and glasses. It was obvious he was not hers by blood, but she still fussed over him as if he were.
A car drove up and parked before a large man with an even larger mustache stepped out. Heero watched him move to the black haired boy and grab his elbow, bodily dragging him behind. The boy cried his farewells to the family of redheads before being force into the car. It was gone rather quickly and Heero got the impression that it wasn’t at all a happy reunion.
“Mr. Yuy?”
Heero glanced towards the voice before turning to face it. A woman, stern looking with her hair pulled back into a severe bun. Her dress was old, as if she were from far Before Colony, high collared and ruffled like an old school teacher. There was even a jewel at the center of her throat.
“Phoenix?”
The woman gave a tight smile before her lips turned back into a scowl.
“No, I am his assistant,” replied the woman. Heero scowled.
“I do not deal with middle men any longer,” he said quietly, his annoyance carefully masked. She gave him a stern look.
“Mr. Yuy, if you are at all interested in this venture, I suggest you learn to deal with me.”
Heero returned her stare with one of his own. They stood there a while, evenly matched. Finally, Heero decided he was curious.
“You’ll take me to Phoenix?”
“I will,” she replied. Heero contemplated a moment. The woman watched him very closely until he nodded his consent. Then she turned on her heel and stalked away. Heero easily stayed right behind her. She paused at the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10 and looked at him expectantly. When he did nothing but stare back, she sighed.
“Go through, Mr. Yuy.”
There was a pause. “Through where?”
“The portal, of course.”
“…Excuse me?”
She gave him a hard, but curious glance. Her eyes suddenly went wide as realization came over her.
“You’re a muggle born!”
Heero said nothing, but wondered of the word. Was it an insult of some kind? He hadn’t been in England very often, as it was quite away from most of the fighting, so he wasn’t familiar with the country’s individual lingo. However, the word hadn’t been said like an insult. It seemed more a… class of sorts.
“What is Albus thinking?” the woman muttered to herself as she rubbed her temple. She reached out and touched the barrier as she raised her gaze to the chocolate haired boy before her. “Walk through this.”
Heero stared at her. The woman was mad, he was sure of it.
“Oh for Merlin’s sake,” she said in exasperation. Shoving him aside, she strode purposefully towards the cement…and then disappeared through it. Heero would have gaped after him, had he not schooled himself to remain blank faced. Still, that did not keep his eyes from going slightly wide. Was he hallucinating? He did a quick mental check over himself, but found nothing to be out of the ordinary. Slowly, Heero reached out and touched the cement. It was solid under his finger tips, rough with use. What in the world…? And then a hand came out of the barrier and wrapped about his wrist. He gave a slight grunt as it jerked him straight into the cement. He braced for the impact, but it didn’t hit. The hand let go and he righted himself before snapping his eyes open.
The woman stood beside him, looking a little amused, but Heero was not looking at her. His eyes were riveted on the large, old train, seeming to be waiting for it. And in front of one door was a very old man. Waves of white fell from his pointed hair and matched the long beard in front. Twinkling blue eyes that reminded him quite a bit of the red haired woman were set into an aged face. He was dressed in what looked like an ornate bathrobe, only nicer. Heero decided not to ask.
“Ah, Mr. Yuy! I trust you didn’t run into trouble on your way?” the old man said cheerfully. The mocking voice grated on Heero’s nerves.
“Phoenix,” uttered the boy eventually.
“I am Headmaster Albus Dumbledore,” replied the man. Heero scowled at him until he continued. “No doubt, you are curious as to why I contacted you so abruptly…”
“Body guard,” Heero interrupted. “Who is the charge?”
“A boy by the name of Harry Potter. I want you to live in with him during this summer and continue to watch over him during the school year,” said Albus, apparently amused by Heero’s attitude.
“I’m quite capable of fending off an enemy attack,” the boy nearly growled at the insult to his skills. Albus smiled a little.
“These are enemies of the likes you’ve never seen,” replied the woman at his side. Heero gave her a glance before setting his gaze on the old man.
“Do you agree?” Albus questioned.
“Payments?”
“An account has been created and the sum will be added each month.”
There was a long pause as Heero thought on. “Tell me the nature of this…training.”
“I cannot until you agree to the mission.”
Most of his rational mind screamed for him to decline and never have contact again with these people. It was the part of him that saved his life and the others’ on many occasions during the wars. Still, he remembered that the wars were over. Even if many of the world and colonies had enemies, they were not all against him and he was not the single hope for humankind. And he was far too intrigued about enemies even he was not competition for.
He looked into those intelligent, glimmering, old eyes.
“Mission Accepted.”
“…This is illogical.”
“You’ve already walked through a solid wall, been transported by port key, and seen me summon furniture, Mr. Yuy. You have also seen me summon a pen and calculate sums in mid air with my wand,” muttered McGonagall, the woman from before. She was seated at a table in the center of the room, but Heero hadn’t moved from his place. His blue eyes were confused and swirling with disbelief.
“It’s illogical. Magic is illogical.”
“Actually, some of our own philosophers have worked out many of the realities of magic…”
“It’s not real.” Heero sat down suddenly in the other chair, not caring if it was really there or not. McGonagall scowled at him.
“I wouldn’t expect a muggle born like you to understand magic,” she muttered. Heero ran a hand through his hair.
“Muggle born?”
“Your parents were non magical, but you are,” she replied. Heero stared at her blankly.
“I can do magic?”
“Of course! Why else do you think Albus chose you to protect Mr. Potter?”
“I’m a Gundam Pilot,” Heero replied quietly. McGonagall sighed heavily.
“You’ll find that very little of the magical community will understand what a Gundam is.” After his odd look, she went on. “We try very had to stay separate from the Muggle world, you see. Many wizards do not even know of the wars in the last two years.”
Heero said nothing.
“In any case, magic is indeed real and you are capable of performing it.”
“Why was I not aware?”
“You were born on a colony along with many other wizards. We felt it would put children like you at risk if you tried to come to school every year, what with the goings on…” She sighed softly. “Now, you are too old to enter the school normally, so you shall be tutored after classes by our professors until you have reached the level of those in your age range.”
“Understood,” replied the boy simply. McGonagall was a little surprised at his sudden acceptance, but didn’t show it.
“Now then, I suppose we should go see to your supplies and then Mr. Potter, shouldn’t we?”
Heero gave a little grunt but got up and pulled his jacket back on. McGonagall heard a faint clang of metal and frowned.
“Mr. Yuy, are you armed?”
The boy gave her a stony look that only confirmed it for her.
“How armed?”
He made no reply. She pursed her lips. “That is fine for the summer, but there is to be none of that during the school year.”
“Unacceptable,” Heero growled with narrowed eyes.
“I will not allow weaponry in the school!”
They stared at one another darkly, neither willing to give a single inch to the other. Cobalt blue eyes locked with stern brown as the battle of wills went on.
“Magic or not,” Heero uttered finally, “I’m a gunman.”
“It’s a school!”
The boy’s eyes narrowed to mere slits. “You have me as a body guard. I can’t be unable to defend this child.”
“I cannot allow-” started McGonagall with indignation, but she was cut off.
“Then take me back to the station so I can get on with my life,” he hissed. The stare off began again. A muscle twitched near one brown eye. The blue were resolved and unwavering.
“One weapon only,” she growled finally. “To be approved by the Headmaster and myself.”
“Acceptable,” replied the boy. If he had been any other, one would think he was smug about it.
The trip to Diagon Alley with McGonagall was quite an adventure in itself. She’d taken Heero to a muggle bank to empty one of his impressive bank accounts to exchange for wizard money at Gringotts. They put most of it in an account there that Dumbledore had set up before for later use.
“How did you acquire such a vast amount of money at your age?” McGonagall had asked at the muggle bank.
“Terrorism pays well,” Heero had muttered back, remembering Maxwell saying the same thing. He didn’t mention that he had at least six other, larger accounts elsewhere.
So, far past midday, Heero had the purchases to start his dive into the realm of magic. McGonagall had shrunk them all so they would fit in one bag. He had an extensive potions kit with cauldron, many books (Including the Standard Book of Spells series, books 1-7), robes, parchment, inks, quills, and even a small owl for correspondence. Getting his wand was the most…exciting thing. Most of the wands he tried did terrible things to Mr. Ollivander’s shop or set fires. Finally, he did have his wand. Willow, 13 inches, pliable, dragon heartstring. The old man had even muttered something about surprising power, but Heero doubted it meant anything.
The two got a short lunch in Muggle London before McGonagall led the pilot to an alley and produced a port key. Heero had only used such a thing once…and already hated them. The pull at his navel was too uncomfortable. He would use them in the future if he had to, but would probably never get used to it. Heero opened his eyes and found them to be on a peaceful looking street. It was the pinnacle of a normal, cookie cutter neighborhood. Every house was the same, every yard was perfectly kept, and there were flowers growing for every one of them.
‘Quaint,’ thought Heero. He followed McGonagall down the street, noting how people peeked out their windows to stare at the two. He doubted they got many strangers. The woman paused before one house. Heero glanced over it and frowned when he noticed a boy weeding one of the flower gardens of the yard. It was the boy he’d seen earlier at the station. This was Harry Potter? This scrap of a child who was far too skinny to be taken care of by that fat behemoth?
“Mr. Potter!” McGonagall called, confirming his suspicions. The boy got up and looked at them curiously before stepping over. Heero looked over him, noting the green eyes, wide glasses, and white scar. It was an odd combination, to be sure. Now that the boy was nearer, Heero could see the muscle on his tanned limbs. He was small and skinny, but not weak as he’d thought. Actually, his build reminded him of Quatre, deceivingly strong.
“Professor,” Harry greeted, a glance at Heero being his only acknowledgement of the other teen. “What are you doing here?”
“Mr. Potter, I’d like to introduce you to Heero Yuy,” replied McGonagall in a no-nonsense tone. “He will be staying here this summer as your bodyguard.”
Harry blinked a moment and then stared at the other boy.
“But he’s the same age I am!” Heero’s eyes narrowed dangerously. Still, the woman wouldn’t have it.
“Actually, he’s a year older. Now, I suggest you get used to his presence,” she said sternly. “Now, I must speak with your aunt and uncle.”
And off she went to up to the house, leaving the two teenage boys on the lawn. Harry frowned at Heero uneasily. The brunette’s face was utterly void of emotion, cobalt eyes cold. There was a slight slant to the eyes, making him look Asian. His dress was a green tank top and jeans with a dull gray trench coat, despite the already hot weather. Harry could see that Heero was physically built much better than himself, not only possessing a few inches more of height, but also carefully sculpted muscle.
“So, your name is Heero?” Harry started cautiously, wanting to break the silence. The other boy folded his arms and gave a positive grunt. “That’s kind of ironic, considering you’re my bodyguard…”
Heero’s cold stare didn’t waver. Harry decided to simply drop it and looked towards the house to wait for McGonagall. They didn’t have to wait long. The professor’s form moved quickly out of the house, her expression annoyed but otherwise normal.
“Well, I’m off. Mr. Potter, if you would help Mr. Yuy get settled, please?” The stern look on her face left no room for argument. “I shall arrive in August to arrange for your Diagon Alley visit, Mr. Potter, and your escort to the school. Is that clear?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Harry replied quickly. McGonagall nodded and turned to Heero. Her eyes narrowed.
“Don’t shoot the muggles,” she hissed. Heero glared back at her with dark, dangerous eyes. “You are to cooperate with them to your fullest capabilities. Understood?”
Heero said nothing. McGonagall pressed, almost growling.
“Understood, Mr. Yuy?”
“Understood,” Heero said in a blank tone. She looked at him with scrutiny for a moment before nodded and walked away from the two. After finding a secure place away from muggle eyes, she apparated off.
Heero gazed vaguely after the woman, face unreadable, then turned to Harry. The other boy was staring at him. One brown brow twitched up. Harry looked away quickly, muttering an apology. The silence that fell around them after was suffocating. Neither knew anything to say, nor how to deal with one another.
“…What did she mean by ‘don’t shoot the muggles’?” Harry asked finally.
Heero gave him a weighing stare before answering in a perfect monotone. “I’m a terrorist.”
Then he left poor Harry standing there in shock while he made his way to the house and cautiously entered.
A/N: Well... Here I am...A crossover writer. I don't know whether to feel dirty about it or not...
Story Notes:
1. The format of the email was taken from ‘Letters from Duo’ by Mel and Christy, which can be found on their website http://4dw.net/deathndragon/ .
2. I decided not to use many Japanese phrases in this story. Oh, I could be like most fanfic writers and throw “ninmu ryokai” every which way when Heero is concerned or worse, for every character in Gundam Wing, but since this is a cross over between an anime and a book, it would be inappropriate to use Japanese phrases for more than emphasis.