Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Heero Yuy and the... ❯ ...Spirit of His Sportsmanship And Friendship ( Chapter 5 )

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

AN: Some of you may be asking now... Why is the fic called "Heero and the..."... Truth be told... It fit... Seriously, it fit! I couldn't even think of anyone else. But after the chapters of introducing the plot and the classes, I'll be more central on him, thanks for reviewing about the characters anyway! Speaking of...

Reviews!! (From FF.net only)

karina: Just imagine her as the worse person you know so far... :D I'm loving hating her too.

TrenchcoatMan: Oh, I've always wanted to play Katamari, heehee. I'll definitely look for that fic, for I too like good fics with long chapters :D. Yea Dorothy and Trowa definitely belong in Slytherin and Ravenclaw, respectively, or Gryffindor, since Trowa is into lions and all. But.. Where would you put Heero?

Draco's not bad, eh? Glad you believe that. And, oh, I'm not done with Milliardo yet, haha!

The age thing. They ARE 13- and it's a potion that has made them so....But their minds retent everything they have gone through. I'm pretty sure about my...weird... pairings... But to warn you, 6x9 is far off.

IrethFalassion: Hehe, Draco's a good character... Though I agree with you, Draco's personality is based on Rowling's ending with Draco, how he still comes off as a two-faced pansy. I love my Houses and the school, and yes, Undeley is like Umbridge, just with youth and beauty and works for the Dark Lord- oops! And yes, it is both, they went back in time and reduced in age- but reducing in age was not because of going back in time, as aforementioned, they were transformed by a potion.

And wonderful questions! The reason why some of the people are back and some aren't is because I believe, when someone dies, that they will, if they were good enough, choose the afterlife they wish to lead- whether it is as a ghost, to the great beyond, or reincarnation. As Rowling mentioned at the end of the book about Dumbledore- he wouldn't have chose reincarnation and we know he didn't choose being a ghost- maybe... hehehe. Snape and Trelawney I believe would choose reincarnation. And Draco and Harry's past lives went haywire and that is why they chose reincarnation... Maybe I am giving too much away.

Thank you, thank you, thank you! Like Kira Takenouchi has said, and she really inspires me, reviews are like currency to me, as they are to all authors. Now I shall read Amasa and read like a lunatic!

Summary: The class of Physical Education, unique to my fic alone! Haha! I like this really because of Milliardo and the certain freedoms I give the students in this fic, haha.


...Spirit of His Sportsmanship and Friendship


Empty silence woke Milliardo from his slumber in the bottom bunk. Curtains, a dark green lined with silver silk, a snake of the same color sewn in the middle, were drawn all around his bunk. He had done that to snuff out whatever snide comments the others were making and to show them that he, with the utmost certainty, did not want to speak to anyone. Wide awake, he hoped it wasn't the middle of the night; it didn't feel like he could get back to sleep. He pushed his comforter aside with the minimum effort and toed away a part of his curtains at the end of his bed, where he knew the window looking out to the Quidditch field was. In the left bottom pane, Irremovable Ink still had shown 'Jake Retchison- 2316'.

The sun shone brightly. He looked at it warily then remembered that the sun would rise today at six, and he should be done with breakfast at seven and be at his class with Professor Lillian a quarter after[1]. Milliardo, glad that his alertness shall not go to waste, pushed aside his curtain and looked at the small clock he decided to bring from Quatre's mansion. A large handkerchief- that wasn't his- was over most of the timekeeper. It was the shape of a sleeping lion and read...

"Seven o' eight!" He looked around and saw that the room that awoke him with its quietness was completely empty. The other boy's alarm clocks were tucked next to their pillows.

He hurriedly got dressed and brushed his hair, multitasking by reading his schedule and checking his supplies one more time. They had been placed in his schoolbag the night before and he was pleasantly surprised to find them all in one place. His first class was Physical Education, which was going to include some magical madness similar to the reason why he couldn't hear his alarm, and his broom.

Then he realized he couldn't find his map, so he tried to tie up his hair quickly. A ribbon was in the inside left pocket of his robe; it had been blue the day before and now was bright pink and the size of Undeley's hideous bow. With a very evil glare at the abandoned beds, he took out a pair of scissors, which were part of his supplies for the class of Spells of Practical Uses, and cut his hair a certain length. Now, there were split ends, but at least they won't be in his face.

"No...NO!" Milliardo could feel it. It must have been his genes or something, but whatever it was made his hair grow back immediately; when the emerging feeling was over, he could feel his longer hair lightly sway near his shins, more ringleted, springy, and intractable than before.

Gritting slightly sharpened teeth, he tied on the ribbon in a fancy knot Relena had learned from her hairdresser and taught to him. She promised the tie would not come loose. Unmistakably annoyed, he then searched for his map, checked the clock, five minutes to the exit nearest the field, with his luck, halfway across the school, then began to panic slightly.

Then realized, he had magic. Thank Merlin.

He pulled his dragonwooded- unreasonably tough, said Julius- stick from his robes and called,"Accio Map!" It struggled from under the carpet into his hand. Wrapping his sack around his head and left shoulder, he turned the map vertically so that it would display the levels of Hogwarts. He would have to go lower than the cafeteria- he missed breakfast- besides his need to go down two floors.

Milliardo, in a sudden inspiration, looked out the window. Undeley and Professor Lillian, both holding clipboards, were with the third year Slytherin and Gryffindors. The framework of the window was of the pivoting type, to open for a hot room, so he opened it, securing everything close to him.

Then he looked at the Lightning Star and remembered he didn't know how to fly the thing.

"It's just a stick... You've conquered Zero and Epyon... Or thought you did," he muttered to himself. He pressed the broom between his legs and jumped, feeling like a fool when he didn't start floating in the air. The clock said he had less than three minutes.

"Damn it.. Get UP!" The broom pressed unpleasantly against his groan. His toes weren't touching the ground.

He was floating. When he pushed the handle slightly to the left, it went left; then sharper to the right, he went right. He pushed from underneath, and he was tilted so that the broom was parallel to the wall.

"How the hell am I supposed to go?" Then he pulled it and headed straight for the ceiling, realizing what was happening, the mechanics of it all. So then he pushed it down to aim it and pulled, flying downwards in front of the window.

Less than a minute. He could see Undeley smile at her watch.

Well, that was about to change, whether he was going to be in trouble or not. Maneuvering his Star with a force between a push and a pull, he went up and out the window, pushed down and pulled harder to fly at a nice speed to the ground. The wind blew his hair from his eyes, and an excitement similar to flying the Tallgeese for the first time filled him. He would have considered this Quidditch sport if he hadn't insulted the Slytherin students.

He would have laughed at Undeley's surprised face if he didn't realize that he didn't know how to stop. In a daredevil decision, he just jumped when he was close enough to the ground, and the broom, feeling its master has left him, lost its buoyancy.

"Well... You're here on time, Peacecraft." Lillian could barely contain her giggles.

"Oh, Merlin!" Undeley cried, hand over over her voluptuous chest. "Did you just come out the Slytherin Tower?!"

"Sorry," Milliardo said, not in the least bit apologetic. "Is there a rule against that?"

Hermione spoke, " 'No brooms or other flying objects, unless otherwise specified in classrooms or in cases of extreme emergencies, allowed inside the Hogwarts Castle.' There's nothing against flying outside."

"If there was, there couldn't be Quidditch," Ron added wisely.

"And that's not allowed to be banned since the 2120 Magical Policy of Sportsmanship, Physical Education, and General Health of Witches and Wizards," recited Hermione with pronounced exactness. Slytherins groaned at what they thought was her profound nerdiness.

Undeley looked as if she still had a trump card but had forgotten it temporarily. She wrote hurriedly on her clipboard with a large pink-feather quill.

"Look, I don't want this Slytherin and Gryffindor class to be another war between you, Headmaster, and you, Mr. Peacecraft. I just want to get this class going," Lillian pleaded, checking her pocket watch.

"Well, see you in detention, Mr. Peacecraft," Undeley said, emotionless, shuffling away, not noticing when Milliardo refused to answer her.

Lillian instantly started instruction, "Roughly half of you are Special colonists who may or may not have known about the Wizarding community and were placed here in the third year. This puts you in a great disadvantage but, as some of you may know, there is an exam at the end of the year that will place you next year in the correct classes not based on your year.

"What I'm going to teach you today does not pertain to that. To add to what Miss Granger had said, the Policy of Sportsmanship, et cetera, makes this school incorporate a physical curriculum- no matter what year, and not to impede on an elective physical curriculum, Like Quidditch." She walked back and forth as she talked. "What some of you may not understand is that physical exertion really helps the mind and your health and even such a simple thing as flying is strenuous. In this class I will present various activities to you particularly in the case of flying but also in other forms of popular Wizarding sports. But since a lot of you don't even know how to fly on a broom, today we'll focus on that. Everyone place their brooms directly vertical in front of your feet, just like you did in your first year- or not, you know what I mean."

The students, eager to try out their brooms, quickly set them out as told.

Lillian's hair blew sideways as the wind brushed the green grasses of the earth. She took a deep breath to relish the soon to be disappearing warm air.

"How many of you think that, without Miss Granger, that the Gryffindors are smarter than the Slytherins?" Expectedly, all the Slytherins raised their hands. "How many of you think that the Slytherins are smarter than the Gryffindors?" Of course, the Gryffindors raised their hands.

"One way to measure intelligence is not just by their smarts," Lillian said, smiling per usual. "but also the way they assess new situations and, of course, how quickly they conquer them- note the conquer. The Slytherins versus the Gryffindors: by working together, which one can get everyone turning a nice two-meter diameter, less than five second back-flip?"

"Blimey, Professor Lillian! Only Harry from our team knows how to do that!" Ron cried, awfully bemused at it all. "And you said that half of us can't even fly!"

"As long as one from each House knows how, all of you can do it. " The clipboard made its role in the nook of her arm. "I'll check you off accordingly, but I will not help you, and that includes not telling what you did wrong if you don't succeed. So now, get to work."

When the whole of the third years turned to him, Harry hissed at Ron, "Thanks!"

"What? I saw you do it last year." Ron mounted his broom, the magical connection between him and his old, old Comet nearly as strong as he and his wand's link.

Harry sighed, doing the same. "Flipping over backwards and staying on the broom is not the same as knowing how to do a 'two-meter diameter, less than five second back-flip'."

"I don't know about ya'll," Duo said slowly, "but I feel like an idiot." The broom was neatly tucked in his robes, yet he stayed on the ground. The group of Specials crowded around the most proficient rider on the Gryffindor team.

Sheepishly, Harry tried to teach, "Well, first you have to establish a connection with your broom. It might be good for you to tell it to come 'up' in your hand. Or, you could do it just by sitting on it. Just say 'up'," he repeated.

Several up's sputtered from insecure mouths. Not one Gryffindor broom ascended but stayed uselessly on the ground.

Hermione spoke next, "Like Miss Lillian said, you must try to conquer it. Don't be afraid it'll fly up and poke you in the eye. Well, it might, but don't worry."

"Oh, right, they won't worry now, 'Mione," Ron muttered in smooth sarcasm.

Heero looked at his broom and wondered why didn't these wizards and witches realize the utter completeness of mechanics. Magic was wickedly unexpected. In all truth, he didn't trust the broom. There was no manual, and the only pretense that what he was doing was right was the fact that he would be flying. He was going to fly though. Leads weren't coming easy with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named hiding and his endorsers were obscured somewhere as well, so he'll just have to make do with 'having fun' at this school, while he's been given the second chance. He glared at the broom, trying to feel it, as if he was morphing his mind with the prophetic, artificial intelligent Zero.

The tips of his fingers began to tingle. He waited longer for the feeling to strengthen, waiting longer as he saw others copy his posture.

"What are you doing?" asked a small girl as she imitated him. She was another Special, some pretty name like Vegranda or something.

"Feeling the magic. Your fingers will start to feel a bit funny, but I think that's all right."

"It's like with a wand." She wiggled her fingers. "I feel it!"

"Hn."

"Up!"

"Up!"

The brooms swooped into their hands; to test the first step, together they mounted the broom, floating just a few feet above ground.

"We did it," she cried, courageously tipping and pulling the broom in different directions. "You just got to feel the magic like a wand!"

"It might take some time," said Heero, who tried the trial-and-error of pulling it that way and then pushing it. There was no three-dimensional control on Zero; either something went up and down or left to right, and usually, there was no lever to pull or push either, so this was something brand new. This was more infuriating than failing a mission; especially if he was completely unprepared for it. But the other children were happy to just end up above ground; flying on a broom was, though altogether more difficult, much more fun than the very limited movements of a mobile suit.

"Well, it seems like everyone's up," Lillian called observantly. "Now, can I see those flips? Oh! There you go Miss Noin and Mr. Peacecraft, very good! Two down for Slytherin!"

All of the two teams turned to the couple, who tried more flips to ensure that their first one wasn't a fluke. Though none of the Slytherins were successful at turning over, they hadn't the pride low enough to ask them how they done it.

"Good, it's Peacecraft," Ron said, rest assured. "They wouldn't touch him with a ten-foot broom."

Hermione moaned in the air next to him- she hated brooms; the Gryffindors now were somewhat in a circle, Lillian looking critically, and watched Harry try a quick back-flip and nearly flop onto the ground.

"They make it look easy. I wonder if they went to a school to learn to fly mobile suits?" Hermione asked, clamping her legs together and trying to fly backwards.

Heero nor Duo answered, but both of them jerked forward at the same time, then concurrently backwards. They mirrored each other going upwards, pulling upwards, pushing down behind their heads, pulling again- the Gryffindors watched spellbound- and pushing and pulling down quickly. It was a back-flip, just not in five-seconds nor in two-meters diameter.

"So, if you pull and push it at the same time..." Duo said thoughtfully.

Heero finished, "You can do it." The two Gundam pilots held the brooms, concentrated a few moments on their hand movements and then swerved backwards as fast as possible.

"Two down for Gryffindor! Good job, guys!" On Lillian's clipboard their names were checked off as the two boys explained what had to be done.

When four more Lions managed a nice flip, the Snakes, who were arguing with each other, gathered fierce looks on Noin and Milliardo, who were joyriding higher in the sky.

"I believe we should ask them how it's done," Treize segued in a particularly loud discussion. Une, irrefutable to be the only girl to latch on his side indefinitely, wound toughly inside. She didn't believe His Excellency had no idea what to do, believed the man could do it as easily as Zechs made it look, and believed that Treize wanted to speak with him after a night and morning of silence. If Noin would have heard she would have agreed. Ever since Treize had to tell them that he was worried about Milliardo, back at the manor, it sort of shook their relationship. Besides that, Treize had something weird going on with his look. His face was nice but pale, and his hair was much more red than usual. It seemed he was the opposite of Milliardo's abrupt transformation. Besides, he would tell Une that 'everything is all right'.

The nitty-gritty of Noin's and her especial... possessiveness was due to the positive fact that when Lillian first had the two women in her clutches, she had asked them who Milliardo was, to which they replied was the man she called Zechs, who the dementors managed to delay and harm with compelling force, such that he was sick before the four got together. Lillian then, with special eyes on her twin sister Une, who coldly stared back, asked who in the world was 'His Excellency', which, with great alarm, they signified as Treize, who was hurt similarly as Milliardo.

Lillian explained her interrogation: when she was treating them both, in separate places because of their war, all they would talk, worry, or have nightmares about was the safety of the other, or the death of the other, and whether or not he caused it.

No question the two women/girls had resulting jealously towards the other man[2] and trust in one another to snag the heartstrings of their respective interest, but the two men, as they soon became to tell, especially when Treize and Milliardo saw each other for the first time and cordially greeted each other as if one hadn't tried to destroy his ship or mobile suit, were closer than the girls had believed.

"Lady, is there something wrong?" Treize suddenly asked her, snapping her from her reverie.

"I don't think Peacecraft," she had gotten into the habit of calling him by his last name, "would so readily give out his secrets."

"I thinks so, too," said a particularly evil witch called Pansy Parkinson, who won the fame of her peers with the single phrase for which she is famous, saying they, centuries before, should have handed over Harry Potter to Voldemort in the same hall they ate their lunch. Of course, the other Houses had shot her down, but it still was passed down in the Slytherin House. "Plus, we don't need their help, we got you, Treize." Also, she had a crush on Kushrenada, last year it was Draco, and the year before a boy named Blaise Zabini.

Treize gazed mildly between the two girls before looking closely at his broom. He did a few more tests and then rolled a perfectly neat flip on his broom.

"Not so hard," he said, the explanation taken with no sounds of disapproval. Une merely glared at Milliardo.

After that it was basically a race between the opposite Houses, but Draco's two friends, when their turns were the last ones, kept messing up, resulting in the Gryffindors winning. To smite his team, Milliardo cheered with them.

"I think Milliardo wants to get mauled," Duo commented and deep bells sounded on the ground, signaling an end to classes. The children dismounted their brooms and carried them to Charms, which they were to take apart from the Slytherins.

The poor Gryffindors, after climbing and getting lost on all those stairs going to the field, had to trod back to the seventh floor to the base of the West Tower of Hogwarts where Professor Jet taught Charms in a classroom lighted brightly by candles whose flames spurted from their sides rather than from the top, the wicks had tiny covers to divert the melting wax so that each candlestick looked like a little flat-headed doll.

Books dropped on long tables as the students took their seats, waiting as Professor Jet smiled pleasantly at them. Light patches of moistness dampened his cheeks, for he was a very small part Merman, a phenomena which Hermione explained as the Great Magical Being Uprising where, in the 2100's, old Minister Forest covered up a disaster on behalf of the Ministry of Magic. Many thousands of experiments were funded by the Ministry who was under the assumption that the experiments were on new species of plants.

However, it wasn't so. The black market had an insatiable desire for exotic partial wizards[3] better than the dangerous Vampire or anything of their like. This came to an underground operation, led unintentionally by the Ministry, guarded with the strengthened resolve of Dark Magicians, and caused many individuals of some species to die or be merged with humans, and likewise wizards were kidnapped. When one stray got away, and died later, Magical Beings from all over the globe united against wizards until all those involved in the sinister acts, including old Forest, were executed.

Part-Merpeople were among the most popular, especially if they were born without gills and the blood-curdling ability, or curse, to talk in their fatal screams. Jet honestly was normal looking, apart from his perpetual wet look. His deep, watery voice calmed them, and it help that his face was young, hair neat, and his teeth the normal length. However, his hands were very slightly webbed and his skin a slim shot of baby blue, but that was easy to ignore.

When everyone had found their seats, Jet began, "Today, we are going to have a test."

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[1] Yea, they start earlier than in the books.
[2] I guess I should raise the red flag, just in case the two paragraphs worth of explaining didn't do it.
[3] Or maybe they are Part-Beast? I guess I'll just switch 'em then.