Disclaimers: I do not own Harry Potter or Gundam Wing, they both belong to their respective owners J. K. Rowling and Sunrise. I make no money of it. I only write this for my own enjoyment.

Summary: Harry's land is the last of the free ones in the world. His people have stayed protected with the help of an ancient spirit, a soul, for hundreds of years. But what connection do the two have to each other and who is that other boy?

Pairings: Duo+Harry+Duo.

Warnings: AU, OCs, OOC(ness), Slash.

Author's note: This is the result of a collection of dreams I had last night. I thought the idea was intriguing and decided to write an oneshot from them. Funny thing is that Duo popped up in one of them and so I decided to play out his role further and have him act against my favorite character. Although the protagonist was an unknown male in my dream; I decided to give the role to Harry, causing him to unfortunately be out of character. Hope you guys can live with that. Duo will stay somewhat in character (?) but have in mind that they are both living in a complete other world that do have lots of similarities with our own but still very much different in other ways.

The Ancient Soul

"I simply believe that some part of the human Self or Soul is not subject to the laws of space and time."

- Carl Jung

I met him the first time by the Mirror Lake. I was sitting on the sandy bank by the water while my toes dipped in the water. The sun was out with just a few white clouds littering the sky and it was soothingly peaceful as the ray warmed my body. I leaned back on the sand, closed my eyes and fell asleep in a nap.

I woke up feeling the prescence of someone else beside me. My eyes opened slowly and I looked up tiredly; blaring confusingly at the figure sitting on my right side. Who is that? Waking up further I make out a slightly tanned face enveloped by chestnut colored bangs. His mouth is quirked into a grin as he looks down on me. I furrow my eyebrows as our eyes meet, emerald against amethyst, and I pull myself up to a sitting position.

"Who?" Is my unfinished question to him.

He smiles at me.

"Duo."

I look at him and he does the same. I don't offer my name and he doesn't ask for it, not yet anyway. I curiously take a closer eye on him. There's a long braid trailing down his back and my eyes linger on it for a few seconds. He's wearing beige cargo shorts and a blue open buttoned shirt over a white t-shirt. His feet are covered by simple sandals, the ones which band goes in a 'V' shape with the point between his big toe and the other. Cheep summer sandals found in any shoe store.

I turn back towards the water, stretching my feet out and flexing my toes in the semi-cool water.

"What're you doing here?" He asks after a moment.

I ponder the question for a while, deciding if I want to answer him or not.

"Thinking."

He hums and I think I'm relived he doesn't ask what exactly I'm thinking. There's too many thoughts to count and they change all the time. Trying to explain my thinking process isn't that appealing to me, and he's a complete stranger.

He sits by my side until the sun starts setting and then he leaves without another word.

Next time I meet him it's on the same lake bank. I see him walking by the shore towards me and then sit down by my side, although at a respectable distance. He smiles at me when I throw him a look. I stare at his face for a while before I turn around.

I hadn't expected to see him again. Almost no one knows about the Mirror Lake or its location for that matter. It's the reason why I so often go here because the professors aren't aware of it and won't bother me here. However, now this guy has showed up and invaded my hidden territory. I feel I should be more upset than I really am.

He doesn't talk today, I don't know why and I don't ask. He just sits there while I take my time observing the wind in the hanging birches on the other side of the lake. I watch the wind make small ripples across the water surface and then lap against the sandy shore at our feet.

I'm roused from my reverie when he stands up, the sky has turned a mixture of orange and red, and I watch him brush of the sand from his shorts. He gives me a small wave by the hand as he turns around to leave.

Suddenly I'm up on my feet, taking steps towards him and reaching my hand out. Why I don't know, I'm just unexpectedly overcome by a feeling that I don't want to be left alone.

My body isn't ready for this hasty action however.

My feet fumble and I feel my left knee give way. The fatigue overcomes me and I sense myself falling as my eyes closes. I feel my body crashing into the water and even though it's low I have no strength in my body to raise my head or any other limb. The water is warm after the sun shining on it all day.

I swallow some water twice before I'm dragged out. A hand touches my cheek gently and I try to draw in air in my lungs. It causes me to start hacking and coughing up the small amount of water that got into my throat and lungs, while a big warm hand rubs my back.

I finally get my coughing under control, most if not all water gone from my lungs. My throat feels sore and my mouth tastes weird from the stagnant lake water. It's not a pleasant taste and neither is my first experience with almost drowning.

I believe I nodded off for a while, before a hand gently hits my cheek to rouse me.

Cracking my eyes open, I take notice of the arms wrapped around me and the firm chest my back and head are leaning against. Only reason my head stays up is because of that. My breathing rattles as I try and calm my irregular in- and exhaling. I cough every now and then when some drops of leftover water get caught in my jugular. All the while he holds me securely in his arms. His body is warm against my back and the arms around me instill a feeling of safety that I've been missing for the past months.

One arm unwraps itself from around my body as he levers me down onto the grass; he must've moved us off the sand bank and I feel sad at the loss if his warmth. After he's settled my body down and made sure that there are no twigs poking into my back; he looks down on me with confusion and at the same time worry mixed with some small amount of annoyance.

"Can't you swim?" He asks.

My throat is still sore and it takes me a little time to get the words out.

"No…" I begin.

"You can't swim?" He asks again incrediously.

"…no," I repeat and he stares puzzled at me. "…I'm just too tired to right now."

He continues to stare at me, eyebrows slowly rising. He probably thinks my head got hit against a rock when I fell in the water or something. Thinking my head isn't all that clear because of it. I start coughing again and he's immediately there to elevate my head until it passes. He sits down on the grass beside me.

Even though I'm quite certain I didn't hit my head, I let him check me for any bumps. His hands rubbing carefully and weaving through the short tresses of my raven hair feels nice.

"Why are you so tired?" He inquires.

"I'm ill." I say bluntly. It's not really true, but it's the way I see it.

His hand that was in my hair jerks slightly with surprise. I chance a glance at his face and wish I hadn't. There's pity in his eyes before he hides it away. I try to ignore it.

"Shouldn't you be inside," He begins slightly hesitant, albeit curious. "With your family or something when you're this weak?"

There's that word again. Weak.

I try and ignore it as well, but it's hard since that reminder brings up other memories with it. They all thought my body was too weak. But they had no choice since even though I'm weak I was the strongest out of all the other alternatives.

He nudges my cheek when I don't answer; my eyes are drawn to him and he looks down at me expectedly. I frown. I don't like this subject.

"They're annoying." I say, continuing. "And they're not my family."

"Not your family?"

"No."

"Who are they then?"

"The professors." I say, and absently wonder if I really should have mentioned that.

They kept telling me that I shouldn't talk about my connection to them. It was meant as a safety measure. I also was supposed to stay inside and hidden away from people but I still sneaked out when they were too busy to keep constant track of me.

"Some professors take care of you?" He asks me bewildered. "Why?"

It must be the mood I'm in, or I've been too affected by the feeling of safety I get around him that causes me to break the biggest taboo bestowed upon me by the professors.

"It's to guard 'him'." I say and keep my eyes focused on him. I'm scared and curious to see his reaction to the revelation but I still watch.

Usually regular people would, even if they were allowed to see me, keep away out of fearful respect. That's what all the others before me had been treated like, with perhaps the exception of their family or the people that went to get tested, and of course the professors.

"'Him'…"

His eyes widen when the words real meaning starts to sink in.

"You are 'his' new vessel?" He exclaims, shocked and stunned as his face mirrors the emotions.

I don't answer. I don't need to. His opened mouth closes slowly and he continues with a lower tone of voice.

"I heard the last vessel took their life," If he sees me cringe he doesn't comment on it. "and that they didn't have much time to find a new one…"

He leaves the question open, watching me meaningfully for me to finish the explanation. Explain how I had become the new vessel. Both him and me, as well as anyone else, knows the importance of the vessel and the criterion of being genetic compatible. 'Him' had such a unique genetic code that it was extremely difficult to find a matching person or at least a person with a high enough percentage of matches so that they wouldn't run the risk of dying from taking 'him' in.

"They didn't." I answer eventually and notice his firm stare that urges me to go on.

I don't really want to talk about the last vessel; the memories are still fresh and painful for me. But I still tell him, maybe it's his eyes, or maybe I want to alleviate the pain by sharing my memories.

"I'm his son."

He doesn't need any further explanation; his eyes lights up with understanding but then he looks at me questioningly. "But why are you weak? Shouldn't vessels be slightly stronger than normal people?"

He's smart. Or he as read a lot about the characteristics of a completed vessel; it's not hard to do since simple explanations can be find in any book touching the subject in any library. You just need to want to know more, but mostly people that weren't interested in being tested as a future vessel didn't care finding out. Was he considering taking the test? My stomach ached at the thought, although I didn't say anything. It was up to each individual to decide for themselves.

"My mom," I hesitated slightly. "and, my father, were in the same test group. He had the best results for the last twenty years," He nodded at this as he listened. "and, so was chosen as the new vessel. But, my mom, she wasn't compatible at all…rather the opposite in fact." I saw how his eyes lighted up with understanding again as his brain quickly made the conclusion that the professors had known about but still chose me.

My father's and my mom's genetics were both mixed inside of me. I had one half were I was highly compatible and another that wasn't. Tests showed that I indeed had just a little over fifty percent compatibility. It wasn't enough to make me a complete vessel though; I was faulty in that I actually took damage by being joined with 'him', the soul, courtesy of my mom's genes. It hurt me physically and left my body drained and abused, hence the near constant fatigue that rose and lowered whether 'he' was being more active. My body was continuously trying to mend the damage but it was like refilling a bottle with holes at the bottom.

"That's why you're weak. Your body can never really fully recover. But why did they choose you if they knew that?"

I sighed.

"Even if my compatibility was that low; since usually they want you to have a minimum limit of seventy percent, I was the only one that had even fifty in comparison to others that were in the ranges of ten to thirty."

"I see, I didn't know the percentage had begun to lower that much." He murmured and then eyed me with concern. "How do you defend yourself in your condition?"

The issue of me being unable to defend myself was one the professors worried about; hence they tried to keep me inside as much of the time. Some of them wanted me locked up when I started sneaking out, but my mom, and the law, saw an end to that. They had no right, no matter my weak condition. I never went far anyway, strolling around the back gardens of the research institution or the Mirror Lake. One of the more friendly professors argued this point and had the others back down.

"I stay inside or away from other people, in waiting for when another person with a higher compatibility comes through the testing."

"Ah…" He says and we both go silence when he doesn't ask me another question.

Eventually I notice his eyes straying to me every now and then. I turn my head towards him.

"What?" I ask.

"Ah, no…" He starts, slightly insecure, averting his eyes and looks over the water, before they're back on me. "Does it hurt?"

Surprised by the question and his insightfulness, I frown.

"Sometimes." I say.

"Like before?"

I nod.

"Does it hurt now?"

"A little." I let out somewhat reluctantly.

Usually I keep quiet about it; mom only becomes sad when I mention it and I shouldn't even be having these pains if I were a complete vessel.

"Did they know about it?"

I snort at the question and he doesn't become offended because we both know the answer to that question.

"Of course they knew about it." I say, sounding tired and annoyed. "Even before I was tested they knew who my mom was but still decided to try because of my father. They didn't have a choice."

"What about you?" He replied "It's voluntarily."

My frown grew.

"I didn't have much of a choice either. The risk with the other groups was that they could die and 'he' would be lost, while in my case the risks were that I might just be suffering from some, unpleasant, side effects."

"'Unpleasant side effects.'" He muttered with a shake of the head but didn't try and argue any more against me.

He, as much as I, understood their reasoning. We couldn't afford to lose 'him'. Without 'his' soul back to being contained in another human being within a day, except for 'his' soul being lost, our country's defense system would collapse, the same system that has kept us alive for the recent hundreds of years. The antique system has a spiritual connection to 'him' as its creator and without 'him' feeding 'his' energy into it would unconditionally fail.

Our country is a large island, more of the size of a smaller continent, and we know as much of the outside world that the surrounding continents and countries have all fallen to a common enemy, the Empire. 'He' created the defense system, an oval bubble if you will of pure energy, that rejected any living being of another energy signature than those living on the island. 'He' was the warrior that defended our country when the Empire first started to attack the neighboring countries and then sent ships to our island with the intention of conquering it.

I meticulously pull myself up into a sitting position, waving of the offered help. As I look out at the water my thoughts swirl inside my mind. It's less than a year since my father committed suicide. We still don't know why. Mom doesn't want to talk about it and none of the professors mention it whenever I'm around. I've stopped asking my mother questions about it when I see how much it hurts her to be reminded of it. She never smiles any longer and I know she feels guilty and responsible because of my side effects.

I jerk when I feel a painful tug in my left side. I whimper and draw his attention as I bend over, falling to the ground as I clasp my side with my hands. A shadow falls over my face and through the slits of my eyelids I see him looking down on me. My features contort in pain. Someone from the outside must be trying to break through. I can feel along with the pain how part of 'his' energy is being withdrawn to fuel the system. It's this process that is the most painful.

"Hey, are you okay?" I can hear his voice drifting through the fog of agony that has descended upon me.

"Hang in there." His voice encourages me.

I don't know how long the process takes as the outsiders attempts to break through, but I'm almost aware of a soft voice in the background somewhere whispering encouraging things in my ear.

Slowly the pain tones away and I finally open my eyes that I had kept tightly shut through the process. What I almost immediately notice is that I'm wrapped in familiar arms and hugged against a warm chest. Minutes later my breathing has calmed down and I'm lying still. His arms and body feels safe like they did before. I manage to muster enough strength to raise my arms and curl my hands around his wrists.

He doesn't seem to mind and I'm grateful for it, as I am of his embrace that gives me the warmth that I've been craving for the last time.

I grip his arms tighter and wishes that he never lets go of me.

AN: Not as long as I usually write, but this was meant to be one step in recovering my inspiration for my other stories. Even though, I hope you liked this and didn't think it too confusing. If so, don't hesitate to ask! Please leave a review to let me know what you think. Thanks. /Lin