Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Heero Yuy and the... ❯ ...Sorting Hat ( Chapter 4 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

AN: As I'm writing this, this would the sixth week of me editing this chapter...Yea, I had much trepidation towards this fic...Because not much of my stuff are getting read- well, if I count the visitors, I guess I would be popular, but there are all sorts of things that can overrate my fic according to that statistic- so a billion thanks to those who review with words and not numbers~ Speaking of~

Summary: The Specials and first years of AC 193 are sorted and confronted by the hilarious (not as in funny) antics by Undeley and (as in funny) Milliardo Peacecraft, who discovers a secret in the Slytherin House.


...Sorting Hat



The hat was placed on the stool and sang a song about all the Houses similar to Lillian's explanation in Diagon Alley. Then Undeley came forward with the scroll unrolled and down her legs to lie flat on the floor.

Relena muffled a squeal as the first student heard her name and walked to the stool. She sat down, but the Sorting Hat didn't come over her head. Instead, Undeley peered into her face, wearing a huge, fake smile of forced pleasantness.

"Aren't you a pretty one? What other special attributes do you have besides that face of yours?"

"Uh... U-uh...," the girl stuttered, wondering if this was the test Professor Vela had mentioned. "I can do a Hex... but I forgot the name of it."

"Oh, ho, ho," Undeley laughed, pleased with the timid reply and settled the drooping Sorting Hat onto her head. Three thick folds widened to what seemed to be the hat's eyes and mouth. It possessed a magic of its own and spoke to the girl with a voice only she could hear and vice versa.

After a few moments, since the girl and the hat together had been indecisive, he called out, "Ravenclaw!" The eagles clapped and thumped and whistled in excitement; and the girl forgot her discomfort at the interrogation from Headmaster Undeley, who glared at her.

More names were called, and, two names before his, Trowa realized he would be the first of the Gundam pilots, or any of his Specials, to be called to the Hat. Each student had to answer to Undeley's question of 'specialness' and she hadn't gotten a dishonorable answer yet.

"Trowa Barton!"

The thousands of eyes watched him walk towards the middle of the hall, but his mask set his composure, and he hid the belly-flip of nervousness while sitting down and even stayed level-headed when Undeley pressed a hand on his shoulder. Each finger held a ring of one jewel, and her nails were painted blood red.

"Are you a special little boy? Besides coming from the Muggle world too late to start as well as the others?"

"My sister thinks so," he said, an answer he didn't believe to be particularly clever but had some of the students snickering at their tables. Lillian gave him a thumbs-up.

"Isn't that... sweet."

The hat settled nicely on his head; he was one of the few whose head was big enough to hold it atop his head and not around the brows.

"My, my," the Sorting Hat said in a light male voice, "another difficult one. You would be great for any one of these Houses... You believe your friend would be in Hufflepuff?"

"I think so."

"Well, then- Hufflepuff!" the hat roared; the table went into shambles and he heard Undeley angrily sigh at his back. If it didn't compromise the mission, and if he could, Trowa would have figured a way to just kill the woman and be done with it.

The list came to his sister, who waved happily at the tables. Boys whistled back, stopping when the Hat, stopping at her curls, went on her head. Undeley only glared at the male's attention to Catherine's sudden popularity, not bothering to ask what's so special about her.

"Hufflepuff!" Enthusiastic boys, much more excited than for Trowa, set spaces for her at the table, but she sat with her brother.

At Dorothy's turn, with a modest answer to Undeley, the Hat seemed to argue with her, and the Headmaster noticed inquisitively. Finally, they reach an agreement, where the furnish made a jerk like something between a violent negative shake before yelling, "Hufflepuff!"

Undeley snatched off the hat and asked, "What in the world was wrong?"

Dorothy answered honestly, "He wanted to put me in Slytherin," and she walked calmly to the Badger's table, where none too few of them watched her with suspicion.

A long list of names were called before Treize Kushrenada- a name which was familiar to the students because, as the Specials came to know, Treize already knew about the Wizarding world but chose the Muggle colonies and its armies instead. His mind was erased of all magical knowledge, and his mother, who edited the newest edition of The History of Hogwarts, retreated to her natural environment while his father taught him the ropes of nonmagical Earth. His Pureblood family was famous.

He strode gracefully a respectful distance from Undeley and stood at her usual envious question. To it he took her hand, and to the great surprise of his dearest friends, of his future teachers, of the ghosts, and of his future classmates, kissed her jewels.

"Anything special about me would pale in comparison to your undefinable beauty, Madam Undeley." Gasps, gags, and rude retorts muttered about.

"Even if it is that weird lady," Duo said, a bit awed, "that's pretty damn smooth."

'Madam' Undeley must have positively approved the flattery, for she slowly, delicately placed the hat on his head before it shouted, "Slytherin!" without a moment's pause. She possibly orgasmed on the spot with a loud shout. The table of the Snake and probably no less flattering students clapped with refined shakes and nods.

Maxwell's name wasn't too far behind.

Duo strolled in a lively manner a few steps before the great stool, about the same distance as Treize, before he stopped. He heard the whistles for him to be at their table.

He turned to them with a grin. "In case couldn't tell by my name, I'm a boy!"

Restless laughter at the faulty callers buzzed around the tables, and Duo had their attention. He turned to Undeley watching him with much displeasure, especially with his brilliant purple eyes and long chestnut waves, and she grimaced when he opened his mouth, "Before you ask, Headmaster Undeley, my special attribute, as you can see, is my ability to appeal to both sexes, or, to be honest, appear androgynous." Even some of the Slytherin table laughed, more mockingly than at his joke.

"I can't believe this. Why are you doing this, Duo?" Quatre said rhetorically back at the waiting group.

"I can believe this," Heero answered with a small grin. "It's just like him."

"In all due fairness," Duo was saying, "you should answer your own inquisition. What makes you stand out, besides your big red bow and bright pink dress? I swear I could see you from inside there," he lied, pointing behind him, but the effect was the same.

"Sit down, Mr. Maxwell," the Headmaster said stiffly, and she shoved on the Sorting Hat.

But it was a split second later that the hat impulsively cried out, "Gryffindor!"

Duo all but ran to the table and yelled, "Alright! Let's go, Lions!" And much like the animal, the table roared with irrepressible amusement. He sat between Fred and George, who patting and jabbed, amazed at his brazenness.

The hat slipped, names later, on Noin's head, and she had to shake her head to straighten it. A small conversation ensued before she was pronounced a Slytherin.

Afterwards, when Milliardo Peacecraft, platinum-blonde hair curled rebelliously, crystal-blue eyes shining, and his handsomely angled chin raised high, Undeley's visage was never the more livid. It didn't help when girls whispered and yelled, rolling his dignified name on their lips. Males looked curiously but did not say anything, knowing the name to be for some guy, some gorgeous guy at that.

"You're going to have to do something about that hair of yours," she said snootily, jealousy firing her beyond measure. "It would be... awful to have it mixed in with some potion and burned off." Those words were sweet lies, and Milliardo knew it. "So... Though I'm sure there is nothing more going for you than your ugly attempt in attracting others attention-"

"Oh, my goodness! That woman!" Relena gasped, and the others felt the same trepidation. "You don't think he will...?"

"He is." And Heero knew it just as Relena guessed.

"-what," Undeley paused for another scathing adjective,"pompous specialty do you think you have acquired?"

Lillian, at her table, bit her lip when the suffocating silence reigned. Mark shook his big scraggly head as Milliardo's pupils dilated to an elliptical shape. With his eyes so wide, the nearest, like Undeley, gasped at the draconian transformation working his tempestuous face.

"You're half-!"

But Milliardo cut her off with his scream, "Pompous?!" He advanced, his thin line of patience finally snapped, and she stepped back, "I've never seen an adult so irresponsible, so against the fine ethics of great leaders, than you, Headmaster Undeley! How could you violate the trust of many of your students with your disgusting tact to reveal how you, as you might think, are better than them. And I'll tell you this, I know that even that first scared girl is better than a self-deluded, self-absorbed old woman like you! She is better than your pompous, irritating, ass-kissing Slytherins as well!" In one momentous breath, he heaved a golden sun-like flame into the air; translucent scales on his face reflected the giant ball of fire.

Alas, he was a great deal more ravishing than before!

"A half-dragon!" Undeley squeaked, nearly inarticulate at Milliardo's speech and voice drowned by cheers, whistles, and, from the Slytherin table, angry catcalls. "The Ministry... I must alert..."

Lillian stood up and went before her part of the table. "The Ministry already knows, Headmaster Undeley. You have a full report about Milliardo Peacecraft in your files and he is deemed very harmless, indeed, unless angered, in which then experts advise you to back down whatever claims you have had or take back whatever insults you have said unless you risk a serious burn. I believe," she said with a smile, "that he blew off most of his steam. Just put the hat on and be done with it."

Milliardo took the hat and pressed it on his head. The Sorting Hat closed its 'eyes' then mumbled to the draconian hominid. He yelled back, furious puffs of smoke seething from his lips. As the hat whispered an explanation, Milliardo glowered, then nodded reluctantly, shaking his head, as if what to come would be disastrous.

"Slytherin!"

And they simply condemned him, but the fierce half-dragon merely sat by Noin and ignored the stupid idiots, his face slowly retroverting as he calmed down.

"Relena... Peacecraft." The princess, horribly shocked at her brother's violent behavior, wisely saddled the Sorting Hat seat.

"Are you half-dragon?"

"Yes, ma'am." She thought so anyway.

The Headmaster calmed at the courteous answer. "Do you become angered as easily as he does?"

"No, ma'am. With all do respect, I've never seen him that angry at all."

"Are you saying it's my fault?" Undeley faltered.

"With all do respect," Relena repeated, "I wish to be Sorted."

Finally, she had the hat, which whispered, surprised, "You're nothing like your brother!" then, "Hufflepuff!" Dorothy wrapped her arms around Relena in a hug, getting into the House had pulled through, after all.

Sally Po became a Ravenclaw, and Hilde followed Duo with the Gryffindors; there was some confusion with Une and she became a Slytherin. Quatre scarcely had a hair touch the hat before it cried the Hufflepuff house, and the same thing happened to Wufei, except he was in Ravenclaw.

Heero, one of the last to be called, with plenty of time to hate Undeley with a vengeance, impatiently sat on the stool. Children and adults alike stood over each other to take a good look at him, many stared hypnotized at his eyes. Glare met stares and then the looks snapped away. When he saw the pink-endowed lady open her red-rimmed mouth, he took the hat from her and placed it on his head.

"I wish Doradius was back," the Sorting Hat said tiredly. "I wasn't even Charmed to be partial but this woman is out of her mind."

"Did you Sort her?"

"To Slytherin, she wouldn't have fitted in anywhere else. You, of course, are positively not fit for that House nor Hufflepuff."

"Hn."

"Good luck, Heero Yuy. I had a bad time with You-Know-Who and I don't ever want to almost go to ashes again. Gryffindor!"

With the last person from their Specials team Sorted at last, Milliardo took his chance to glare ferociously at Treize, who continued to ignore him while talking to Draco Malfoy. This was part of the plan- if anyone was to be a part of Slytherin- but this was just shameless foolery!

"It's okay, Zechs," Noin said. "You know it's just for this mission." But, truly, she wanted nothing more than for him to feel alienated and betrayed by Treize. The Mediterranean was sure Une was feeling the same way.

At long last, the Sorting ended, but it was time for Undeley to make her speech.

"Hell, I am so ready to eat," Ron said mournfully. "I wouldn't be so if she hadn't already been talking so much. Doradius let Professor Lillian say the names and then he would speak but noooo."

"Well," said Fred, grinning evilly, "we can always slip her a box of Chokolates. They wouldn't kill her, but if she talks more than ten words..." He started to make realistic choking sounds that made some students turn.

"...And I want nothing more than our superb faculty to lead all of you sweet, wonderful witches and wizards towards a safe and happy magical future. Now, let's eat!"

At the word of consumption from the Headmaster, tables appeared with boundless golden plates, platters, and goblets full of food of all kinds and drinks of butterbeer, only for this special occasion, and the usual pumpkin juice. The hall erupted into clatters of eating utensils, loud gossip, laughs, and stares at the legendary wizard Harry Potter and the new sensation Heero Yuy.

"You'll get used to it," Harry whispered, eating his roasted duck. "I don't know about Undeley; you might as well say get used to You-Know-Who hiding wherever he is."

"Oh, she's not that bad," Hermione said, frowning while buttering a brown roll.

"She's not bad," Duo agreed, "she's deranged. How did she end up in your Ministry, much less the Headmaster of a freakin' school?"

George's mouth was full of cabbage, but that didn't stop him from talking: "Isth wath hurd-"

"Oh, please, swallow," Hermione commanded, and he obeyed, getting the attention he wanted.

"It was heard... That she and the Minister had an affair. You know, she was his undersexretary for a small time before she came here."

"I'm trying to eat, George!" Fred yelled yet was all smiles, then he frowned. "What's the dragon-boy doing with Draco? Even if he is in Slytherin- I still can't believe that- they still probably hate each others guts." Much like other students staring at the strange couple, they gazed with anyone's guess on their mind on what they were doing.

Between the two of them was a blank parchment that Draco had placed on the table. Platters of half-eaten food was pushed aside. Milliardo civilly took the quill the other blonde handed to him; he had become more composed since he had filled his stomach.

"I would like to speak to you on behalf of the Slytherin House since the Prefects are temporarily gutless."

"Temporarily? I don't believe they'll ever have the guts to face me," the prince retorted, then added bitterly, "Plus, I don't want to say anything more that would smear my already poor, Mudblood name."

"There's nothing wrong with being a Muggle-born!" someone said, getting up, and a large portion heard her, agreeing with miscellaneous yet similar replies- or the more Slytherin comments toned them down, but Milliardo ignored them all.

"Children, children!" Undeley interrupted in a sickly sweet voice, and responses died down. "It is eating time, not debating time! You have half an hour!"

The half-dragon used all his willpower to keep from rolling his eyes.

"You see," Draco continued as if nothing disrupting transpired, "that's why I've brought this parchment. Maybe writing will help you keep your cool. And, so you wouldn't get fired up if someone chances to idly walk by and read your words, it has a spell so that only the person holding our quills can read it." He wrote first.

Pretend that you are getting mad at me each time I write, alright? It's not going to be too persuasive since you have a knack for transforming so easily when you're angry. That was the message passed to Milliardo, who stared at the parchment, an angry furrow in his brow, and wrote back:

You and that woman irritate me beyond measure. Why would I pretend?

I lied about being on the behalf of this House. It's on my behalf that I wanted to speak to you.

Explain.

Draco stared at the parchment, disregarding his lackeys blatant attempt to read what they could not see. A growl to them sent their eyes away, and he continued writing.

What do you know about me?

What does that have to do with anything?

Just answer the question!

Milliardo rumbled a bubbling flame, and Draco's friends ominously shouldered forward but was pushed back.

I know that you aided He-Who... whatever. You nearly had Harry Potter killed. I already know you hate Muggle-borns. You're a horrible brat and always have been.

Well, thanks (sarcasm).

Really? (sarcasm)

They repressed ice-breaking snickers.

Ok, we sound like girls. Anyway, did you know that my parents were Death Eaters?

One could only guess where your horrible attitude came from.

Draco paused again, looking deeply into Milliardo's eyes, yearningly... Almost as if he searched for something he hasn't been able to find for a long, long time.

We're not like that anymore.

That's hard to believe, Malfoy.

I know! It's hard for everyone to believe!

The quill had flown in his hand as he wrote this long, heart-spilling message, caused by just a few words from Treize Kushrenada:

That's why no one knows! Only a few concurrent Death Eaters know that the Malfoy family never, ever want to work for You-Know-Who again! Almost since I was small, I had vivid dreams of that past life. My parents, who I have had nightmares being tortured with unimaginable curses, even though they are the same ones who nearly lost their minds to punishment, don't understand all the way- but they always put me first, I spoiled, I know. So... When You-Know-Who appeared out of nowhere when I was a year old, he had gone to my parents for assistance. I don't know if I understood the situation then but my Mum said I cried. And Dad made sure we left, and we went into hiding in the Muggle world for the next nine years of my life. I know all about the Earth Sphere Alliance and the colonies and everything, and you know what I learned? All human beings are the same, magic or otherwise. The deepest heart's desires don't vary between Wizards and Muggles. You-Know-Who is the same as any Muggle dictator, only that he has magic! Then, which some wizards fail to realize, we can all still die? So what's the use trying to make yourself look better than another if you're going to die at the end? Did you know that?

And he realized he had been ranting in his script, the long message he wished to say to Treize when the man whispered, "You seem tired of all this utter crap."

He passed the parchment on so Milliardo could catch up, who wrote and shoved it back, face grave and unable to look even slightly angered.

I am more familiar with death than you would know. While we are sharing secrets, I'll confess that I'm not thirteen, but nineteen. I have gone back to this time in this body to fight You-Know-Who, or help in the best way possible. I had been hiding from a horrible deed I have done to society in that future... Similar to You-Know-Who's ways of thinking... before he decided that his plans would be better off without me. I have no clear idea why.

So that's what Treize meant, that he wasn't from this time...And, if you've changed your mind about that deed, then it's alright now. About him trying to kill you...Could be because you're Muggle-born and an aristocrat, a paradox in You-Know-Who's mind. I don't know how he knows you're a wizard with your magic bonded in space, though.

So... You're putting up this front for all the school to see because they expect you to? Why don't you tell the truth- scratch that- What made you tell me?

It's because I felt that I could trust your friend Treize. No one heard him, but he had told me that he considered you a dear friend despite your faults, and when your turn came up, he said he was 'positively amused'. What really got me was when he sat at the table at first and started all that Pure-blooded nonsense, then looked really annoyed when so many began to agree with him. He's putting up his own front for your mission, I guess.

You're quite perceptive.

Well, you got to be if you have to watch your back for traitors. I don't think you'll have any trouble not trusting any Slytherins.

I'm glad you're not trusting them either and want the best for your parents.

It's not just my parents...

Draco closed his eyes in what Milliardo perceived to be after this statement, holding back tears, and finally controlled himself.

I had a son named Scorpius, after the defeat of You-Know-Who. He was my first child, my first son. He had just finished his second year at school, when he came back on the train and was blasted by a curse from a crazed Death Eater who called our family blood traitors. Other murders happened afterwards when other Death Eaters came and my other three children died. My wife finally went and I was left, I guess, to die alone, I don't remember, nor what happened after my death, but I obviously didn't turn into a ghost. I
had told my Aunt Bellatrix, a woman that is close to making Undeley look sane, most of what I knew like this. Do you know what she said? Now you can make it up to the Dark Lord! I would love to sacrifice you if it would put me in his favor but Cissy, my mother, wouldn't like it, and I don't know if he would approve of you.

How old were you?

It was a summer of certain death. Bellatrix had found us at our Muggle place- we've moved since then- and I was six years old, trying to reason with my aunt on why we didn't want to join her and You-Know-Who. She kept saying stuff about me being Pureblood.

My obsession with Purebloodedness would have run dry.

Even if it hadn't, if he would do research, I will be on his list of death as well.

Why is that?

I'm also half-dragon, and now- he didn't used to- You-Know-Who doesn't like Wizards who's magic is 'aided' by another species. It just so happens that both my parents were carriers of the Draconian Gene that some idiot bloke toyed with in the past, so now I also can blow fire and transform and all that.

But.. When you get mad..

Draco snatched the parchment from him.

I don't get mad. I get upset, and even then not mad enough that I would show everyone that I'm an effing half-dragon! Why don't you prance around with dragon pox while you're at it?

I can't help it. Wait a minute, does that mean we're kind of... related?

Merlin, we're all related if we trace back to the beginning of time. Don't get sentimental.

I'm not getting senti- The hat!

Uhm... Yes, we're finished with Sorting... ?

No, no, remember when I was arguing with the hat?

Yes, your mouth was smoking and all...

It was saying that it would benefit me most if I went to Slytherin. 'There are things you would need to know for your quest.' That's what he said- do you think he meant you?

The hat's been burned near to a crisp by You-Know-Who. Considering why you're here, and why I'm here, I believe this was the best way to pay back the grudge.

This is great, I can tell the others then.

What others?!

The ones you have all made famous, Heero Yuy and Harry Potter. What's wrong?

I don't care about Yuy, as long as he and you do not tell Potter!

Blonde brows lifted at Draco's excited, sloppy writing. They shared a gaze for a few moments before he began to write again, noticing a shadow over his parchment and a quietness that came with it. Might be Relena, but she would have called his name... Could be Treize, but Milliardo could see him down the table, a black-headed girl his age showing him her fingernails. Most likely it was...

"Headmaster Undeley, is there something a matter?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was just looking over here." She stepped into view. Her dainty fingertips pressed her lips. "You know, I just remembered. Isn't there a rule against conversation under twenty decibels? That includes some whispering and definitely writing notes, correct? Any form or words transferred can and will be reiterated."

"Do you want the parchment, Headmaster?" He rolled it up in his hands, beating the table with it, and had his throat ready to incinerate.

"Yes, I do. If you burn it, you will have to, starting tomorrow, go through a whole month's detention with me."

"He's an uncouth, wannabe rebel," Draco said easily. "You shouldn't bother, his words were as uneducated and ignorant as that Weasly boy from Gryffindor."

Ron's already heavily freckled face and ears broke out into hectic reddish colors darker than his hair. "Why does he have to bring me into this?"

"Just don't worry about it, Ron," Hermione said gently, then she spoke resentfully,"Though she should be at her own table instead of messing around in the student's business!"

"Did he say anything about me?" Undeley was saying.

"Of course."

Milliardo blew a steady stream of flame on the parchment; a hole formed so that he could see Draco's amused face on the other side. The thick paper broke slowly in half, the surprising conversation inside dying only in that concrete form.

"Prove it," the half-dragon demanded.

"One month's detention it is." Undeley turned around. "Lillian, please relay this evenings directions. I shall retreat to my boudoir. Good night, children!"

Lillian watched her leave, slowly coming to the podium to give the pink-clad woman time. When the two great doors closed behind her and her white Siamese cat, she rang out a long, drawn-out, completely exasperated sigh.

"Hello children! Headmaster Undeley missed this in her speech... as well as the rest of the staff... but I am the Physical Education instructor Professor Lillian." She looked back and waved accordingly to the other teachers. "Those two men there are Mark and Devin, keepers of Hogwarts' animals and teachers of the Taming and Handling of Magical Beasts. Next to them is Professor Aneiren and Trelawney of Divinations. Potions' Professor Snape, Buble of Herbology, the old, old Binn ghost for the teaching of the history classes, Spinner for Defense of the Dark Arts- which many of you thought would be obsolete this year-, the much-celebrated class of Spells of Practical Uses a.k.a. Charms has a new teacher this year-"

"Pettison went on maternity leave!" yelled a Hufflepuff.

"Wow, nothing leaves you kids. Well, the new teacher is now Professor Jet. Professor Vela of Transfiguration, Professor Mond of Astronomy, LaShork for Arithmancy, George, yes, that's his last name, of Muggle Studies, and, though she is not present, there is Blitley of Ancient Runes. I believe that's all our teachers. In case you didn't know, there is a ruling teacher for each House. I am the ruling teacher of the Gryffindor House."

Cheers rang out from their table, albeit sleepy claps as well.

"Snape is for Slytherin." She paused for them. "England is the keeper of Ravenclaw, and Buble handles the Hufflepuff House. If you want to know anything about your classes or just need someone to talk to I advise you go to your respective keeper.

"Now, there are two Prefects, students who help you little first-years and Specials. Would they all stand now?" Two students, a male and female, stood up from each table, year four and up. "I would like all Specials and first years to follow them and please listen to what they have to say. Thank you, guys, and good night!"

At this last, easygoing speech, the children were ready for sleep. Heero, too, though he had been trained to stay awake for days at a time, yawned and frowned irritably from want of sleep. He followed the Prefects with a dead stare and deaf ears.

Right before they were about to climb stairs- to the Gryffindor tower, they said- the flight moved to a lower level, and the Gryffindors had to wait until another went to their level. First years were scared to move onto the stairs less they move again but were persuaded to walk each solid step. Maps were being passed back, a different one from Harry's mainly because it didn't show every single person in the entire school nor different passageways nor secret exits.

When they arrived to a picture of a large lady in a pink dress guarding the entrance to the Lion's common room, the female Prefect yelled out that she was going to give the password. She told them it was strictly confidential for Gryffindor students. They heard about House Points all over again and such like- as in tardy detentions would not be given to the children that week because of their unfamiliarity of the school. And all that said before the password 'Purple radish-roots' came around- and that would change everyday.

The common room had three majestic stone fireplaces, golden carpets, and various other comforters besides the beds most of them so dearly wanted. After their baths and the checking of their luggage, they found their schedules on their beds, which were stuffed into pillowcases, the boards of a bunk on top, on dressers and trunks, or the robes and uniforms they were going to wear the next day.

Heero went to sleep in his upper bunk as Duo muttered, "Of course we're going to have Physical Education in the morning. Just my luck," and his eyes didn't hurt him that night.