Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Crossing the Magic Line or When Gundams Get Wands ❯ Bombs Away ( Chapter 3 )
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?
Bombs Away
For once in the last five years, Harry wondered if he would have an uninterrupted summer. With the exceptions of Heero and Wufei, nothing momentous had happened. His lessons with Wufei were growing less painful as the days passed. He found that the soreness of each day before was gone by the end of the work outs and he did, indeed, feel more refreshed and ready for the world. Heero was still as walled in as ever and Wufei refused to give much information about their lives before meeting Harry, but at least the Chinese teen gave some insight to Harry’s odd bodyguard.
“Yuy is one who had too much put onto his shoulders too soon,” Wufei said when Harry had asked about the third teen. “His entire life has been in preparation for a war that was won. Now, his purpose is gone. Protecting you became a new one. He will follow it as diligently as any mission he has ever had.”
When Harry asked what that war had been about, Wufei only shook his head.
“You, yourself, will soon be plunged into a war you should never have become part of,” he said, his eyes looking as old as Dumbledore’s. “Our war has no relevance when you should be preparing for your own.”
Harry hated to see the pained look on his new friend’s face, so he didn’t ask again.
Two weeks before September, Harry was shaken awake. His mouth was covered before he hand a chance to scream and hand grabbed when it raised with his wand. His green eyes stared wide eyed as he awoke completely. A familiar face was above him. Wufei’s long hair was down and fell around his face as he leaned over Harry, his expression serious. When he knew Harry recognized him, he let go and motioned for him to be silent. It was then that he heard voices in the house.
Wufei went to the door and glanced through just barely. Strapped to his back was a white sheathed sword that was slightly longer than the boy’s torso and in one hand was the dark shape of a gun, which made Harry’s stomach flip with unease. Could Wufei actually use those? He knew that his house mates had been in a ‘war’ but he had thought it was more figurative…Now, he wasn’t very sure at all.
The Chinese boy glanced out again before waving Harry to follow. He tried to be as silent as possible, ears catching each sound to make him jump. When Wufei stopped suddenly, Harry froze on the spot. The other body set his back against the wall, body tensed in readiness to attack. A shadow from moonlight made its way up the stairs, though there was no sound to accompany it. Then, a head of messy hair just as Wufei swung his arm around. The other boy did the same and the two found themselves staring down the barrels of each other’s guns. Heero’s eyes glinted unnaturally in the darkness. He glanced past Harry, then to Wufei. The Chinese teen shook his head and instead dug into his pocket and held out a small stone. Frown deepening as he stuffed the stone into his own pocket, Heero motioned something that Harry didn’t understand before turning and going back down. Wufei turned and started for Dudley’s bedroom. Harry followed, confused but unable to make himself question. It might draw attention upstairs.
Wufei crept across the room and woke Dudley much as he had Harry. He barely managed to smother the sound as the enormous boy woke. Dudley was harder to subdue but when Wufei grabbed his wand from his pants, the boy went deadly still.
“Stay quiet,” Wufei hissed to him, voice barely uttering any sound at all. He let Dudley go and got up, moving to the door. After a look out, he motioned for them to be still as he went through. Harry and Dudley glanced at one another but said nothing. Dudley jumped as he too heard voices down below. His eyes went wide with terror. Moments later, Vernon and Petunia came through, the latter rushing to her son’s side. Wufei glanced around before he picked up a ball cap of Dudley’s and placed a hushed spell on it. He then held it out to the rest of them.
“Grab on if you value your life,” he muttered. Harry did so but the Dursleys didn’t approach.
“Why should we trust you?!” Vernon growled, though he was quiet about it. The three were terrified but even they understood that silence meant life. Wufei glared at them.
“Die if you want, but don’t subject your family to the same,” he spat out. Vernon was silent, face hardened as he thought. Finally, he pushed his wife and son towards the Chinese boy.
“Grab it,” he said as he did so. They followed his lead. Wufei waved his wand over the cap and muttered. At once, they felt a jerk at their navels and the room was left empty.
Heero felt strange with bursts of adrenaline hit his system. For the first time in his life, he was facing someone he had no knowledge of the abilities of. It almost thrilled him. Sneaking slowly through the invaded house, he carefully followed each word of dialogue and noted positions. There were three from the sound. Two were in the kitchen and one making his way towards the stairwell. Heero half hid in the entryway closet, the door cracked only slightly.
The man near the stairs was clad in a long, black cloak with a hood over his head. He moved like a shadow, smoothly though with caution. Heero let the door open just a bit more, aiming as precisely as any sharpshooter. A moment later, there was a loud bang before the man toppled, red splattering on the stairs and wallpaper. Heero didn’t lower his weapon, but instead waited as the other two rushed out to their fallen comrade.
“What the devil?!” muttered on as he turned the unmoving man over. “He’s dead!”
“I didn’t feel any magic!” frowned the other. They looked about but found nothing. Both took out their wands. Heero carefully took aim again. The shot went off and another of the robed men fell to the ground. The last jumped back, moving from his line of sight.
“Potter!” the man cried. “Whatever trickery this is, I’ll have you soon enough!”
Heero knew Harry would be gone by now, with his family, as he trusted Wufei to get his part of the job done. Slowly moving from the closet, he made his way to the living room, eyes roving over the dark room. He heard a faint footstep and whipped around, firing as three pops in succession caught his attention.
“Petrificus Totalus!”
The gun fell from his grasp as Heero’s body snapped straight and he fell onto his back. He could move nothing, not even his eyes, so he was forced to stare upwards as an unfamiliar old man loomed over him, the other two shouting with the black clad one before that one fell silent. One of the three came back to join the one with Heero.
“Two dead and Tonks took the third for questioning,” he said in a rush, his face pale.
“Check upstairs for Potter,” muttered the other. His inky eyes glanced over Heero, narrow and suspicious. The other man went off as he knelt beside Heero and raised his wand. A mutter later and ropes burst out to secure him before the petrifying spell was taken off.
“Who are you?”
Heero simply glared at him. The man glared back with equal gusto, his one glass eye roaming over him as if it could see through him. This was how the other man found them.
“Harry’s not here!” the man said with worry. Heero glanced over him. The man was obviously not that old, mid thirties probably, but his light brown hair was streaked with gray and his face lined.
“Where is Potter?” the glass eyed one growled at Heero. Heero didn’t say a word. “I don’t care how young you are, I’ll hex you into next week!”
“Alastor, he’s a muggle! And a child!” the other man tried, though his own wand was at the ready.
“I see the magic, Remus. The boy is no muggle and he’s already killed two,” ‘Alastor’ said grouchily.
“At least wait for Albus!”
“If we wait, the Ministry will be all over this place,” countered Alastor. Remus frowned and glanced over Heero.
“We’ll take him to Headquarters and wait there.”
Heero said nothing, but he was already trying to figure out how he could escape.
Where they arrived, Harry and the Dursleys tumbled at the landing. Wufei managed to stay standing, glancing down at the rest with an oddly superior air. Harry got up and looked around. They were at the outskirts of a town, the streets emptied at the late hour.
“Hogsmeade!” he cried in realization. Wufei folded his arms over his chest.
“Where else would I take you?” he asked haughtily. Reaching down to help Petunia up as her son and husband got to their feet, he added, “We’ll be heading to Hogwarts now, as I’m sure you’ll want to be safe…”
Harry grabbed his wand at the reminder that they were not out of danger yet. Wufei nodded at the action and the strange group of five made their way through Hogsmeade to the trail to Hogwarts. It seemed rather longer that night than the trips during school. Harry and Wufei were constantly on the look out and the Dursleys jumped and shrieked at every sound. As a whole, the managed to scare away every prey animal for miles.
The outer gates of the school were a welcomed sight. They were all miserable and testy, patience worn thin from the journey. Wufei made them wait as he went to the gate and tried to pass, only to find a barrier holding him back. He nodded and glanced at the others.
“Potter, try walking through.”
Harry did with no problem. He looked back through with puzzlement. “Why does it work for me?”
“I believe it is because you are a student registered here. The wards recognize you. Someone will have to let us in,” Wufei responded with a frown.
“Blasted wizards and their damn magic,” muttered Vernon indignantly, but neither boy paid him heed.
“A teacher might have stayed back,” Harry said, thinking aloud. “I’ll fetch them.”
At the Chinese boy’s nod, Harry sped off. He ran as quickly as he could, passing over the grounds in a near whirl. His endurance surprised him and he knew Wufei’s training was to blame there. His body had never felt so strong before, though it would lack Wufei’s natural grace for years, if not his whole life.
The front doors of Hogwarts had never seemed so beautiful. Harry ripped one open, surprised when it was not barred. Thinking on this for only a few moments, he ran through shouting.
“Hello! Hello! Is anyone around? Come on, someone has to have stayed!”
“Mr. Potter!!”
Harry skid to a stop and whipped around. In tartan nightgown and robe with her black hair down around her face and glasses slightly askew was Professor McGonagall. She barely looked like herself without the notoriously tight bun and it took Harry a moment to realize who she was.
“Professor, the house-”
“Thank Merlin you’re all right,” she said with obvious relief, stepping to him. “Are you injured?”
“No, ma’am, but the others can’t get inside and they’re in danger.”
“Others? You brought your family?”
“And Wufei. He’s not registered here so he can’t get in.”
McGonagall frowned and drew her wand. Muttering a spell, her hair leapt up into it’s customary bun, a holder materializing around it, thought it wasn’t quite as neat as usual.
“Come, Mr. Potter,” she said sternly as she started out the doors. Harry kept to her side, worried over her expression. It was the one she had when she took points from their house, either disappointment or suspicious anger, but he could never figure which. When they came back to the front gate, Wufei and the Dursleys were waiting.
“It is an honor,” Wufei murmured as he bowed to McGonagall in greeting.
“Chang Wufei of the Chang family of L5,” responded the transfiguration teacher, surprising all five. “I had been wondering if I would meet you.”
“Myself as well,” said the slant eyed boy. McGonagall waved her wand over the visitors, murmuring under her breath, before doing the same to the gates.
“Inside,” she said sternly. Vernon Dursley stood squarely where he was.
“I demand you return me to my home!” he growled. “My family has suffered enough because of you magic freaks!”
“With the wards down,” said McGonagall coldly, “returning would be suicide. I will take you back personally once they are returned. Is that clear, Mr. Dursley?”
He almost retorted, but something in McGonagall’s gaze stopped him. Harry shivered in remembrance. McGonagall might not have the same vindictiveness of Snape, but she was just as dangerous if not more so. With Vernon firmly beneath her heel, the group of six made their way back to the castle.
“How did you get through the wards of Potter’s house?”
Nothing. Not even an eyelash flutter. The boy might as well have been a stone.
“Where are the muggles that live there?”
It was the same. After an hour of grilling the boy, Alastor Moody had come up with exactly what they started with: nothing. They had chosen not to take him to headquarters, as Moody insisted the boy was a risk to security. Instead, they were in a holding house that the Order sometimes used for various things. They sent a message to the others but hadn’t been bothered. The boy sat in the center of the largest room of the house, bound to a rickety wooden chair that could break at any moment.
He didn’t look at all perturbed. That was what scared Remus the most. The boy was almost artificial, and just as cold as any muggle machine. His dark blue eyes were deep but completely blank. It was as if the boy wasn’t there at all.
“Answer me, damn it!”
SLAP! Remus stared in horror. The brunette boy, the one who was just as young as Harry, glared through his hair as he slowly moved his head back to the front. Moody’s slap had nearly toppled the chair, but no change occurred in the tanned face.
“ALASTOR!” Remus roared, grabbing the other man and ripping him away from the boy. One arm jerked up to pin the older man under the chin. “I don’t care who this boy may be, I will not allow you to hit a child in my presence!”
“What do you propose?!” Moody growled back. “What genius plan have you devised to get Potter’s location?! We don’t even know if he’s still alive or if this bloody bastard’s killed him for the damned Dark Lord!”
Remus snarled and let go, positioning himself purposely between his companion and the boy.
“Leave us,” he said coldly. Moody moved to object, but Remus quickly drew his wand. “Don’t make me stupefy you, Alastor. You aren’t equipped to deal with children. Leave.”
His upper lip curling, Moody stormed through the door, slamming it shut behind him. The sound reverberated through the room. Remus sighed softly and put his wand away as he plopped down into the chair Alastor had vacated. The boy watched him almost curiously. Remus felt tired. He had been running on adrenaline for too long and was far too worried about Harry to calm himself. If they didn’t find something soon, he would run until he fainted from exhaustion.
Remus ran a hand through his hair and glanced over to the boy. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes,” he replied. Remus blinked in surprise. It was the first word they’d gotten from him. It was then that he noticed a certain life now in those blue eyes. The boy was there. Something had reached him.
“What would you like to eat?” Remus prodded. If he could somehow gain the boy’s trust…
“No preference,” he said. His voice was dark and deep, sounding far too old to be from a boy this young. There was a certain roughness that was unnatural, too solemn for a child. It was an adult’s purr, the kind of sound one got after years and years of hardened service to the people, the kind of sound one got when they were reaching the end of that service. Yet, under it all…Under it all, Remus heard the small part that was exactly the same age as the boy himself.
“Will you tell me your name?” The light threatened to go away as the boy grew suspicious. Remus quickly added, “You don’t have to. I’ll still feed you regardless.”
The boy said nothing, but he didn’t retreat. Remus got up and left the room, returning quickly with a plate of sandwiches. He glanced at the boy, chewing a lip as he debated whether or not to untie him.
“If I set you free to eat, will you run?”
Those eyes were far too intelligent for a teenage boy. They scared Remus badly, despite himself. He could almost see the boy weighing his odds, running through every option before even thinking of deciding. Too cold, like a muggle calculator. The shiver made a return down Remus’s spine.
“No,” said the boy finally. ‘The other will kill me’ was left unsaid, but Remus still heard it. Nodding, he banished the ropes and sat down. The blue eyed teen rubbed his pinked wrists in a mechanical fashion, as if they didn’t hurt so much as were uncomfortable. Remus knew from experience that Moody cast ropes to be extremely tight so it was probably true that the boy’s wrists were, indeed, rather pained at that time. Still, nothing registered on the boy’s face. He reached over for a sandwich.
Remus watched him eat in silence. The mechanical movements, measured bites made in some inner cadence. This boy had not been born, Remus knew that much. Boys were not born to act like machines. He had been molded, trained to be as he was. Created, but who would be so cold? He was startled from his thoughts when the boy spoke again.
“Yuy,” he said quietly, setting his hands on his knees. Remus blinked, not understanding. The boy’s eyes narrowed but it wasn’t in anger. “My name is Heero Yuy.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Remus said as he recovered. “I’m Remus Lupin.”
The boy nodded. “Potter is safe.”
“Where is he?” Remus wasn’t such a soft heart to let this opportunity go. The boy was feeling forthcoming now and it might not last. There was a pause before Heero answered, the look of calculation becoming familiar.
“Safe,” he finally decided. Remus sat back, disappointed but still glad for the assurance. The boy’s scent had proven the statement. Harry was indeed safe from harm. Heero watched him closely. “You’re close to him.”
“Yes,” replied Remus quietly. “He was my best friend’s son. And now my godson…in spirit at least. The Ministry doesn’t see it fit to allow it.”
“Why?” It was a rather innocent sound. Through layers of hardened soldier, a little boy peeked out. Remus could no sooner deny him than he could Harry. He frowned, thinking through how to word it.
“I have an illness,” he said finally. “It makes me seen as…unfit to most wizards.”
“Your magical and physical attributes don’t seem impaired,” the boy murmured, confused. His brows knit.
“It’s not that kind of illness,” replied Remus. His voice had gone very quiet. Heero’s eyes searched him before nodding with implied understanding. In reality, the boy had no way of knowing what kind of ‘illness’ he had. Silence fell over them again. It ate at him. He’d never liked silence.
“You have an accent,” he observed, mainly to fill the gaping void but also to give his curiosity a bone. “Where are you from?”
“L1,” replied the boy without hesitation.
“Long way,” said Remus with a slight whistle. “Why’d you come here?”
“Mission.”
“About Harry?”
“..Yes.”
Remus chewed his tongue. Would the boy continue to be so open? They seemed to have formed a trust of some kind. Remus didn’t want to break it, but…
“Why were you asked to come?”
Heero went silent. Remus almost thought he’d clamed up for sure when, “Bodyguard.”
“You were asked to be his bodyguard?” The incredulous tone wouldn’t be squelched.
“Yes.” No pause. No hint of a smirk. The boy was completely truthful.
“Who would ask a teenager to guard the most important wizard alive?”
“Phoenix.” His lip set a particular way, making him almost look annoyed. Indeed, his scent shifted subtly to testify that, if Remus had thought to check. He didn’t. In fact, he was staring at the boy with wide eyes. Heero watched him curiously.
“Dumbledore.” The recognition that swept through those cold blue eyes was enough to settle it. “Dumbledore hired you to watch over Harry… and we’ve been harassing you for the last hour.”
A glint of near amusement lit in Heero’s gaze, though his voice was as blank as ever. “You believed me to be a risk. I understand the precautions.”
Remus groaned and ran a hand through his wavy hair. It was in need of a cut, he noted absently. Not that that would matter because Dumbledore was going to take his head for this…
The handle for the door jiggled. Both males jerked their gazes to it. The door suddenly slammed open and a boy stood in the threshold, breathing hard and shoving messy black locks from his panicked face.
“Remus, Heero’s not bad!”
“Breath, Potter,” muttered Heero. Remus got up and embraced the boy, crushing him to his chest.
“Merlin, Harry, when we got to the house….” He held Harry tighter, relieved when the boy hugged him back. “I’m so glad you’re alright…”
“Wufei brought us to Hogwarts,” Harry said when they finally parted. “When Professor McGonagall heard Heero was left behind, she figured this had happened. It took a while to get in here….Sorry about that, Heero.”
The blue eyed boy gave a vague dismissive wave of his hand.
“Wufei?” wondered Remus with a blink.
“He’s Heero’s friend. They’ve been staying over the summer and got me and the Dursleys out before the Death Eaters got us,” said Harry. “Wufei’s back at Headquarters, wearing a hole in the ground.”
The boy laughed at Heero’s raised brow and grinned at him. “I think he’s worried about you.”
“Doubtful,” replied Heero in his normal, rough tone, but Harry saw something that the boy thought he was hiding. He still wasn’t sure what that ‘something’ was, but knew it wasn’t bad. Looking back up at Remus, Harry went on.
“McGonagall said to return to Headquarters with Heero. Moody’s already left.”
“How did you get here?” Remus asked with a tilt of his head.
“Tonks,” Harry replied. He noted Remus’s wince with amusement. “She’s waiting to take us back.”
“Save me,” Remus muttered. Tonks had made a real pain of herself, trying to ‘make it all better.’ She was worse than Mrs. Weasley when it came down to it. Less matronly, more clingy. With a skyward look, Remus led the two boys into the other room, where he was instantly pounced on by Tonks. She didn’t have a romantic interest in him, but her sympathy was even worse. The woman had no idea of what “personal space” meant. With Tonks clinging to his arm, the four ported back to Headquarters. Remus was very relieved when the first person they saw was Snape. Tonks let go immediately and changed to glaring at the Potion’s Master. Remus hadn’t quit figured out why, but the two absolutely hated each other now, starting only a few weeks ago. He could smell their enmity, that spicy scent tickling his nose in the worst way.
“Good afternoon, Severus,” Remus said, trying to cut the tension. “It’s good to see you well.”
Snape narrowed his eyes and turned to the other man, breaking his glaring contest with Tonks.
“Your gladness is anything but reciprocated,” muttered the dark man. With that, he turned on his heel and stalked to another part of the house. Tonks snarled after him.
“No good, horrible, nasty, son of a-”
“Tonks!”
Harry snickered behind a hand. Remus looked heavenward but no salvation seems close.
A/N: Ooo, there was action in this chapter! ...well, that's it for action for a while.
Story Notes:
None.