Disclaimers: I do not own either Harry Potter or Gundam Wing; they both belong to their respective owners, J. K. Rowling and Sunrise.

Summary: In the highlands of Scotland arrives an archeological expedition led by Wufei Chang in search of traces of a Germanic people supposedly long lost in time and history.

Pairing: Harry+Wufei+Harry (very mild at first, this must be the tamest pairing fic I've done…at least "action" wise. ;P )

Warnings: SLASH. OOC(ness?), not-so-accurate-and-playing-around-with-history, switches between Harry POV/third person perspective. AU for HP after book seven and excludes the epilogue, and for GW AU after the whole series and the Endless Waltz OVA.

Author's note: This story was inspired from a thought I had of 'what if Harry was a ghost?' That was the initial thought and the starting point for this whole story. I had expected for it to be a regular oneshot, but it ended up SO much longer than I had first anticipated (like whole 25,000+ words longer…). Therefore, I split the whole thing into four separate chapters where I found it suitable,(this means the chapters will be of different lengths mind you) and which I will be posting one at a time each day from now until the whole story is up. I will be posting the following three chapters in the evenings (local time, Sweden is +1 Greenwich time) because of my work schedule.

This story has taken me months to write, revise and finish. I bumped into writer's block somewhere along the way and only through sheer stubbornness can I happily present it to you now. I put down a lot of hard work into this one and it's become one of my favorites just because of that single fact.

So it gives me immense pleasure to present to you, the first chapter of…

Written in Stone

'A stone is ingrained with geological and historical memories.'

- Andy Goldsworthy

The location had been what used to be called northern Scotland; more precisely a location in the old Scottish highlands nestled in-between a circle of dense forests and in its middle structures where the noticeable ruins of a fortress or a castle had once stood. It was in the middle of November; the chill winter airs hung still and dry in the early morning, the sun sending dim lights through the foggy heat that rose from the yet still warmer earth.

The quiet atmosphere, however, was interrupted by a low humming as a helicopter broke free of the tree line, the rising morning sun lighting up its silhouette. It passed once over the ruins before returning to circle over the site before gently easing down on an even patch of ground to the off side.

The first one to step outside of the still thrumming helicopter was a young man, dressed in black thermo pants and a red winter jacket. The frosted grass crunched under his feet as he bent and jogged away from underneath the spinning propellers. On his shoulders hung a backpack that he removed to rummage around in as soon he arrived at a safe distance from the whirring blades.

Another, though taller, young man followed the other out of the helicopter and came to stand beside the other as the first one fished out a fancy system camera, wasting no time with taking a rapid series of pictures of the discernible and impressive ruins.

"You seem awfully eager Chang." The taller companion commented with a hint of amusement, expression calm and one green eye hidden beneath a fall of auburn hair leaving one still visible.

The shorter of the two, Chang, snorted lightly while signaling to the pilot of the chopper, watching it raise into the air, before starting the trek towards the collection of stone structures, the taller following in his steps.

"I would assume that it would be more than clear as to why, Barton." Chang responded and snapped off another picture of a fallen pillar on the ground, moving over to a stoned walkway.

"Yet I still find myself mildly surprised at the prospect." Barton replied, his breaths coming out in steamy puffs.

"Oh?" Chang sent the other man a short glance in-between snapping pictures.

"Why, yes, of all the archeological digs and sites we've been to so far, which are many, you have never expressed such eagerness like this." Barton paused to take in a still standing pillar, letting his gloved hand trace the furrows created by time and nature. "So I wonder," He continued after a while, "what makes this site differ so from the rest?" Barton eyed the man with a curious glance.

Chang hummed, snapping one more picture before slowly lowering the camera.

"I believe, that this could be 'it'." His calm voice belied his hidden anticipation.

His companion stilled lightly, not missing the stress on the last word.

"'It?'" He repeated. "Are you sure?" There was a trace of excitement laced in his voice.

Chang's answer was a small tug at the corner of his mouth, only hinting at a smile.

"I cannot be completely sure." He said reasonably.

"But you believe it is?" Barton insisted.

"Yes. I believe it is." Chang agreed, mouth curved.

They wandered through the ruins mostly in silence, only speaking up to ask the other about something or to comment about something else. They weaved through the skeleton of stone, working their way closer to the heart of the ruins where the structure seemed to be the most preserved. The ruins had to be, from Chang's own hasty calculations, at least three or four hundred years old. Certainly not as old as the ancient ruins from much older cultures and civilizations around the Mediterranean Sea, and one would think that those would hold more interest to someone like Chang; a young archeologist and historian with a penchant for the old philosophies of long lost civilizations. But the man had another, less well known interest. For years back now, he had secretly been searching for traces and clues of an old Germanic script with unknown origins. The first and only finding of this script had been made by his very own grandfather. Wufei Chang as a child had been fascinated with the old man's stories about the different travelling tribes of Germanic people during the old dark ages, how certain texts had told about a group of people with strange abilities that went against the law of nature herself.

As a young and impressionable child, Chang had taken to these stories like a sponge and sucked up everything he could get his tiny hands on. It was his grandfather who taught him the values of being a scholar, a historian with integrity and pride in his profession. Taught him the justice in bringing forth the old forgotten histories that had been told by the minorities. Most of the known history always had, after all, been written by the victors and not the defeated. His goal was to seek out those forgotten testimonies, those forgotten life destinies that had fallen prey for the mightier side.

If only his grandfather and clan had not been lost in the colony wars…

Chang roused himself from his memories, focusing on the now and doing a thorough search of these ruins. The few leads he'd found had led him here, to a seemingly forgotten place in these northern parts of the highlands. His grandfather's texts and most of his theories had been lost with the destruction of the L5 colony cluster. But some of the texts lived on with Chang, carefully archived and guarded within his own mind. Not until after Operation Meteor and the New Year's wars, when a time of relative peace had settled over the world did Chang take time to write down what he had stored away in his mind.

During those days he had felt his interest and nostalgic childish fascination returning to him. It had driven him to acquire a degree in history, with focus on the old dark ages, and one in archeology. Many months and years later he found himself being hired by the Preventers and Lady Une herself to work as a historical researcher in her newly founded science department. Although his focus was to be around the years of pre- and after-colony history; a project that had as its many goals to seek out the real 'truth' about the origins of the colony wars and the conflicts before the new era of after colony, Chang had been obliged, through sheer persuasion on his part, to spend a third of his time on areas of personal interest. It had been one of his demands if he were to accept the position. With this came also a certain amount of funds (provided that they were approved by Lady Une of course) that he could use for his many trips to different excavation sites and other locations that piqued his interest.

Like the one he found himself at now, and with the frequently volunteered assistance of an old friend from the wars. Trowa Barton seemed to share an interest with Chang about the old history.

The site had been better preserved than what Chang had initially thought. The lead that had led him here he had found in western Eurasia during a dig there. A small piece of stone with pieces of near intelligible writing had caught his interest where it laid on one of the tables where they'd put the findings waiting to be described and catalogued. He had almost instantly recognized the writing as to the same letters he had once seen in his grandfather's papers. The distinctive curve of the loops and connecting lines bore too much of a similarity than to be a mere coincidence. He was surprised no one else had paid it much attention, someone, at least, should have noticed that the curves and loops should have been impossible to make without modern machinery.

He had immediately asked to be allowed to study it, claiming he had come across these writings before and since no one else had expressed an interest in the small piece, he had been able to bring it back with him to his office and examination room at Preventers headquarters. He had studied it almost religiously and had earned more than one bewildered and thoughtful look from his colleagues and fellow agents that visited occasionally in-between missions and assignments. These agents were his old comrades and fellow Gundam pilots that had come to work at different departments within the Preventers.

After tiresomely deciphering some of the script on the stone, with the help of his own memory and his own copies of his grandfather's texts, Chang had managed to extract the name of a geographical location that the text spoke of. Lady Une had, after many long sessions of tries at persuasions, finally (caved) authorized the trip and the funds Chang was asking for. Barton had come along as a volunteer, like he'd done many times before when he had the time to do so, since no one else at the science department felt inclined to go on this, what they called it, a wild goose chase.

So here they were, in the highlands of Scotland, not quite sure what they were looking for but Chang was certain that he would know what that was if he did find it. He was so sure that what he had gleaned from the script on the small piece of stone that this was the place the text had spoken about. That this place held a piece of the puzzle he was trying to put together, the question only was how big a piece that was.

A couple of hours into their stay, the sun already high in the sky, Chang were tracing a stoned pathway where the roof was still partly intact. He could feel his excitement growing, prickling his skin underneath his clothes, as he noticed the pathway start to tilt down.

"Barton!"

He called once for his companion, knowing the other would catch up with him and continued his descent into a small shaft. As the ground leveled out he could hear the echo of his footsteps bounce against the walls. It was dark down here, the only light coming from the few rays, lighting up the entrance, which managed to find their ways down through the small pathway.

A flashlight from his backpack solved the issue and lighted his way. He gasped softly as his eyes swept over the stone walls, amazed at how well-kept they appeared to be. When his gaze landed on the center of the room, he could barely reign in his excitement when he spotted the now familiar curves and lines littering a massive rectangular block of stone. At first he thought it could have been a tomb of some sorts, but then realized that while the stone looked reminiscent of a lid to a tomb, it was far too small for a regular sized human. Although it didn't rule out the possibility that it could belong to a child…

Chang put down the flashlight so that it still gave him light over the stone block. He took a few pictures with the camera, the flashes lighting the room like during a thunderstorm.

He had already taken out a notepad and pen, leaning over the lid to make out the letters to write them down if the pictures didn't come out right when he heard Barton's steps behind him.

Barton came up beside him and let out a low whistle, familiar enough with Chang's 'side work' to recognize the style of the script.

"Amazing." The taller breathed out.

"Isn't it?" Chang replied, still taking notes and copying the script down onto his pad with almost hurried movements, like he was afraid that the letters would fade away like dust in any moment.

Barton stepped around the stone lid, taking it in from all the sides and the thin one-piece chiseled pillars that stood off the corners.

"Is it a tomb?" He asked thoughtfully.

Chang shook his head in the negative.

"I don't believe so. It could be, but I've never seen a Germanic tomb shaped like this. It looks more of that of a monument of some sort, though I can't be sure of that either…" He trailed off, his focus going back to his handiwork.

Barton rounded one of the corners, frowning suddenly, and crouched down to inspect it closer.

"Chang." He called. "You sure it's not a tomb? Since there seems to be a hollow cavity underneath this..."

Chang's obsidian eyes looked up from his work, depositing the notepad on his backpack before going over to where Barton was crouching. He bent down and tilted his head slightly sideways and that's when he saw it. A small crack in-between the stone lid and the ground that allowed the two take a peek inside of what appeared to, indeed, be some sort of hollow space.

Driven by years of bottled curiosity and exhilaration of finally finding a clue to what he was searching for; Chang made a quick decision.

"Help me try to move this." He said to Barton.

Barton only nodded in response.

The two hefted their hands on the stone lid and then pushed carefully. It was heavy, really heavy actually, and for a moment Chang thought that they would have to give up when lid jerked, and then began to slowly slide open. The scratching noise sounded in their ears and for one morbid moment Chang almost expected the corpse of a child to be staring up at him, but what met his sight was not a corpse.

No, it was an oval shaped stone tablet that lay on a bed of sand.

Chang and Barton stared at the tablet, before Chang (not able to hold himself back) bent down and gently eased his fingers underneath the tablet. The sand slipped between his fingers as he lifted it, surprisingly light, and righted it so he could take a closer look. He noticed Barton leaning in curiously, their heads nearly bumping together.

The tablet was amazingly well preserved, and what was even more astonishing was the letters that seemed as clear as the day they had been imprinted on the stone. The script shone with a color of deep red, almost the color of blood Chang noted to himself.

"That's strange…" He murmured.

"What is?" Barton asked from beside him.

Chang stood up, mindful of not dropping his precious cargo.

"While the letters on the lid has faded with time, naturally, these on the tablet seem to almost have been written only yesterday..." He shook his head. "But that can't be."

He traced his fingers against the rounded rim of the stone.

"The stone has no chips or damage that I can see. It's in such good condition it's almost too good to be true. Like someone planted it here just recently."

Barton raised an eyebrow.

"It doesn't look someone's been here recently." He observed, casting his eyes around the room.

"And it shouldn't, this area is protected under law as a natural habitat. Usually people aren't even allowed to enter it but I had Une pull some strings for me." Chang commented, showing no reservation to his own admittance.

"Of course." Barton said with a small quirk of his mouth.

Chang leveled a minor annoyed look at his companion.

"Anyway, I would like to bring this back with me." He said and went back over to his backpack to put it back on.

"What about the lid?"

Chang thought about it, considering his options.

"We would have to come back for it later." He reasoned.

"I thought so."Barton replied, bending down to take the discarded flashlight and writing equipment since Chang was now holding the tablet with both his hands and seemed very determined to not let it go anytime soon.

The two started their trek back to the chopper, Chang turning around to cast one last glance at the room as it slowly sank back into darkness. As he walked up the pathway, a small tingling sensation thrummed in his fingers for less than a half second. But the briefness of it had him discarding it as a response to the cold.

Out of the dark I felt my body jerk suddenly with some kind of movement.

A strange sensation settled itself in the pit of my stomach and I could not understand what it was. This had never happened before.

I've been in this place for so long now, whatever this place is. I'm fairly sure that I'm dead, must be, but then I'm still uncertain. If I was truly dead, then wouldn't I be with my parents and family? This darkness, this void, I have no idea where it is. Though, I have faint memories of the final battle, of my struggle with Voldemort. I knew I'd won, somehow, but what happened after that, it was all clouded and unclear. No matter how I tried to remember I could not make the haze that covered my memories go away.

It was utterly frustrating.

A gentle swinging movement catches me off guard and my awareness stumbles back into the dark.

My thoughts slip away, and it almost feels like I'm going back to sleep…

Chang looks up from his seat, watching as Barton enters the room, and then goes back to his examination of the stone tablet. It lies on a table within a sea of papers and various handwritten notes. Chang has spent most part of the last month working on figuring out the message written on the tablet. He is loath to admit that he hasn't had much progress so far and in real need of a break in the deciphering process. There is simply too many letters and signs that are new to him, not to mention the ones that were found on the lid and especially the more intricate ones on the tablet itself.

"They say the stone lid will be here within the next few days." Barton tells him to which Chang gives a nod. "How are you faring?" He continues.

Chang gives a deep sigh, leaning back in his chair and raising one hand to remove his glasses while another massages the bridge of his nose.

"Not that good. Une has been on my case about neglecting my other work."

Barton sends him a sympathetic look.

"I'd offer my help, but I have no real expertise in this area outside of plain interest."

Chang gives Barton a nod of appreciation for the thought alone.

His errand done, and having his own work to think about, Barton leaves Chang to his work again with a few choice words of encouragement and that he will come by again in the morning next day.

As the door slides closed, Chang sighs again and bends his head back to stare into the plain white ceiling. He blinks twice before swinging back up and his dark eyes lands on the stone. He stares at it and then scoots his desk chair closer with his fronts of his soles, laying his arms on either side of the stone and fixing it with his hard gaze.

The tablet lays on the table, its script as deeply red as usual and the color almost glistening in the artificial light. As if the color had not yet dried.

Chang raises his hand, reaching out to trace his one finger along the lines and curves. Silently to himself, he reads out what he can make out of the script, pausing once, and eyebrows frowning, as he reads out one particular sign.

'…Soul.'

Obsidian eyes grow large and blinks several times as the text seems to almost glow with an inner light…

…and that's when it happens.

Something is trying to rouse me from my sleep, I can sense it grabbing a hold of my body and pulling me out, out of this empty void of darkness that has kept me company for I don't know how long.

I think I blinked my eyes, because all of a sudden I am no longer staring into darkness but rather into pure light. I have to shield my eyes from the sudden brightness, my hand bumping against my glasses, and it takes an awful while for my eyes to adjust. When they finally do, I slowly lower my arm and take in the room I'm standing in. I look around, almost expecting to see the infirmary at Hogwarts. Instead I see rows of shelves with books in them, a desk to the right with piles of papers lying on it. I don't recognize the room, and I'm quite sure that I've never been here before. What has me wondering is why I am not still at Hogwarts?

As my gaze passes over to my right; I come eye to eye with one of the darkest eyes I've ever seen. I peer curiously at them, taking in the person before me. It's an older man, must have been in his twenties or something, and Asian, perhaps Chinese. His slanted eyes remind me fleetingly of Cho and I frown lightly at the memory image, shaking the thought out of my head. I don't recognize this man. Not a professor, for sure, but perhaps a member of the order? It's not like I've met them all.

A quick intake of breath has me turning my attention back on the man from where my eyes had gone to take in the rest of the room. His eyes are wide, almost impossibly so, and he seems to be staring intently at me, like I'm some sort of ghost or something. Rude yes, the look disturbs me though, has me thinking that he must have recognized who I am and I feel myself growing worried. Here I am, in a place I have no idea where is, and then there is this guy staring me down. For all I know he could be affiliated with the surviving Death Eaters. I really need to gain some control over this whole situation while I still have the chance of surprise.

Having decided on a course of action, I reach my hands towards my pockets for my wand. I'll try and apparate back to Hogwarts. Hermione, Ron and the rest ought to be there. But when my hand fumbles and I look down I notice the first sign that something must be terribly wrong. That something must have been done to me while I was out cold. I should have known that something would be amiss after being stuck in that dark abyss…

First of all, there's the surface of a table jutting out where my waist should have been. I stare down, eyes wide as saucers as I raise my hand up and down through what ought to have been a very solid table, yet still my arms passes straight through it like it was made of pure air. Somehow my body has become intangible. Something must have gone wrong. Had I been attacked without noticing it?

Swallowing reflexively, I take a few quick steps, feeling (understandably so) highly uncomfortable with a bloody table separating my higher and lower half of my body. Relief fills me when I'm able to get free of the table without much trouble. I don't know what I should've done if I was actually stuck in it. Getting stuck in that false step on the moving staircases was troublesome enough.

"Wha-what are you?"

I look back at the man who is still staring at me apparently. I frown, he looks almost scared of me now. Then I take notice of what he actually said, dimly wondering about his strange accent.

"What do you mean 'what'?" I ask annoyed, going back to try and find my wand. I know some people have rather extreme reactions when they recognize me as of late, with all the 'defeater of Voldemort' stuff probably going around like crazy, but that was really rude. "It's not like I'm a ghost or anything." I huff indignantly.

My finger touches a slim piece of wood and my eyes light up as they finally land on the holly wand I fish out of my jean pocket. At last I can go back to Hogwarts and back to my friends. Away from whatever this place is anyway. I'll ask the others later if they have any clue since I'm not planning on staying long enough to ask.

I raise my hand and wand, preparing myself for the uncomfortable sensations of apparition. I never liked it much. However there's a touch of worry that grasps hold of me as nothing happens, even though I've apparated a number of times before, (Hermione had both me and Ron practicing it during our horcrux mission almost until we dropped)and enough to make me at least decent at it. I try it again, raising my wand but still nothing happens.

My eyes sweep across the room, landing on the different equipment littering it and I find myself astonished at all the advanced looking electronics. I know I live most of the year at Hogwarts, but I still went home (if reluctantly) to my relatives house in the summer. Dudley's newest computer had not been nearly as sleek or, for lack of a better word, futuristic looking.

I feel apprehension set in the pit of my stomach when my earlier words start to register in my brain, the fact that I'd been standing in the middle of a table, the fact that I've been unable to use my wand.

'It's not like I'm a ghost.'

No, no, that can't be it, I tell myself, ignoring the still gawking man for my inner turmoil. I go back to the table and raise my hand experimentally. I hesitate for a moment, before lowering my hand and seeing it pass straight through the table.

"No…" I say, my voice trembling slightly, shaking my head in denial. This must be some kind of spell; even if I've never actually heard of one that was capable of doing this do a person. But then I'm sure there's a ton of spells and charms I've never heard of before.

I turn around hastily, walking over to one of the bookshelves and reach for one of the books. I receive the same result. My hand passes right through the binding. I can't even feel my hand going through it. Maybe there was something wrong with my eyes? A hallucination? A dream? I wrack my brain for explanations but it all, ironically, feels awfully real to me. I touch my own arm, somewhat relived I can feel it but it's a short respite when realization finally crashes down on me.

"No…" I say again with force. "It can't be. I'm not a ghost. I'm not dead."

A snort has me turning around to face the man again. He watches me with still mildly wide eyes but he seems to have regained some measure of composure.

"I don't know what are you are, and I don't care." He says with a reasonably calm yet harsh voice. "Now, get out of my office."

I frown at him, my mind still swirling and feeling lost with the whole situation.

I try to calm myself down. I need to think logically here, even if it isn't my strongest point. What would Hermione do? There must be a ward put up preventing apparition, and then someone must have cast a strange spell at me that turned my body into the way it is now as well as dumping me in the home of a muggle. So, I just have to go out and walk a long enough distance so that I'll get outside the wards.

I start for the door, only to slam straight into an invisible wall after taking only a few steps. I whirl around, hand grasping my bruised nose, my wand raised towards the man who now frowns at me.

"What did you do to me?" I ask angrily, feeling frustration, confusion and fear lacing together and directing it on the only other person in the room. Perhaps this man wasn't as much of a muggle as he first appeared to be.

"I haven't done anything." He retorts and I watch his arm stray behind his back.

Expecting to see him pull out a wand, I am even more confused when he whips out and points something entirely different at me. I have a problem placing the object for a moment before one of the movies that my cousin Dudley used to watch pops into my head.

A gun. He's holding and pointing a gun at me. Why would a wizard even have a gun…

"You really are a muggle?" I ask dumbfounded, the whole situation making less sense by the minute and I'm running dangerously low on plausible explanations at the rate I'm going through them.

The confused look I receive is answer enough. I feel myself more confused by the minute. What in Merlin's name was a muggle doing here? Since he couldn't have done this to me, there must be another wizard or witch around here somewhere. Was someone playing a cruel joke on me and decided to put in this muggle for some added fun?

"What the hell did you call me?" The muggle, man, seemed to have taken my words as an insult.

I shake my head, lowering my wand slightly.

"What the bloody hell is going on here?" I ask no one in particular, crying out my building frustration and worry.

"That's what you're going to tell me. Again, what the fuck are you doing in my office and how the hell did you get in?"

The man takes a few quick steps towards me and I end up staring down the barrel of the gun, wondering how in Merlin's name I managed to get myself into this mess. Why hadn't anyone gotten here yet? Surely they must've known that something had happened to me by now. Something was definitely very wrong here. It couldn't be? Could it really?

I raise my eyes at the man again. I was afraid to find out if it was true. What if it was? What was I going to do then? Steeling myself, I lower my wand and make a move towards him.

Before I can open my mouth the gun goes off.

It passes right trough me, not as in ripping through flesh but as in actually going right through me as if my body wasn't real, as if I really was a-.

"A ghost." I whisper.

AN: That was the first chapter of four. The remaining three will be posted every evening around 6pm-10pm (Swedish local time, 1+ Greenwich). Until next time, Lin.