Alright, just a small note: Dumbledore is not evil or all that manipulative in this fic. Now, I admit, he's always manipulative, but this time he's not outwardly evil. He really believes what he's doing is right. He's only extremely annoying to the pilots about it.
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Everyone was flabbergasted. The majority of the people present had absolutely no idea what a Gundam was, but if Hermione's reaction was anything to go by, it was impressive. The five boys merely sat and ate their dinner, offering up no explanation, although the braided one was chattering away in some language to the silent Japanese at his left. Hermione continued gaping like a fish out of water for a couple minutes before the power of speech came back to her.
"You're terrorists." Her voice was bland enough that they couldn't read her opinion of that. "You killed all those people…"
"It was a war, sweetheart," Duo said with a grin that had Hermione and Ginny—and some of the older women—and blushing. "People die."
Hermione scowled. "And all the civilians? The pacifists?"
"In our defense, the pacifists were a complete accident," Wufei pointed out, chewing on a piece of chicken. "And we did our bests not to kill civilians, but everyone makes mistakes."
There was a sigh and then the girl sat down at the table, pulling some food towards her. "I'm not saying your actions weren't justified, I mean the entire world owes you five its life, but…"
"You just wish it hadn't had to come to that," Quatre finished, one hand hovering over his heart. The amount of shock in the room was overwhelming. Especially when added in with the disappointment, the disbelief and the questions shining in everyone's eyes. It was enough to make him abruptly lose his appetite.
He pushed his plate away, getting to his feet. "We have to get up early tomorrow," he said to his friends. "So don't stay up late."
"Yes mother," Duo replied in a sickly-sweet voice, and Quatre couldn't help but smile.
He turned and walked out of the kitchen after thanking Molly for the lovely dinner. He noticed his fellow pilots followed soon after, and almost immediately everyone began asking Hermione questions. "Do you suppose this will convince the wizards to begin paying attention to the muggles?" he asked absently as they all headed up the stairs.
"One can only hope," Heero muttered, running a gentle hand down the length of Duo's braid.
Quatre gave a quiet hum and wished them all good night, Trowa following obediently as he entered their room. The Arabian gave a frustrated groan and fell face first onto the bed. "I want to go home," he mumbled.
Trowa gave a soft chuckle, removing Quatre's shoes and sitting on the edge of the bed to remove his own as well. "We have a mission, little one," he replied.
Quatre grabbed his arm and pulled him down onto the bed next to him. The blond snuggled up to his lover, lethargic and on the verge of sleep. Trowa ran a hand down Quatre's back, smoothing the silk dress-shirt. "Don't you want to change?" he asked gently.
"Move and I'll castrate you," Quatre grumbled into his chest, and Trowa gave a soft laugh. That was a good enough answer for him.
~*~
The wizards seemed shell-shocked when the pilots joined them for breakfast. There weren't quite as many as there had been the night before, but there were certainly enough. Trowa, Heero, Duo and Wufei were congregated in the kitchen, completely ignoring the staring wizards as they waited on Quatre to join them. They were all dressed in their Preventers uniforms, weapons visible and easily accessible. Duo was sitting on Heero's lap as Wufei braided his hair for him, the first sign that something was bothering the American. His hair was sacred territory and all the pilots knew it.
Trowa was conversing quietly with Heero when Quatre stepped into the room, straightening his tie. He was frowning and immediately turned to Duo. "What's wrong?"
"Somethin' jus dun be feelin' righ' 'bout dis," Duo replied, unconsciously slipping into L2 street slang. The other pilots all frowned, Heero tightening his arms about Duo's waist. Duo was rather self-conscious when it came to his speaking, and for him to fall into that dialect meant that he was really out of sorts.
Quatre gazed at him for a long moment before nodding to himself. He had known for a while that the other pilots all had innate magic that had developed into different gifts from lack of proper training. For instance, Heero's unique surviving instinct or Trowa's incredible gymnast ability. But Duo's ability to almost know when things were going to go wrong was almost disconcerting in its accuracy. And they had all learned that very quickly.
"We'll just have to be more careful," Quatre murmured. He straightened his obviously expensive silk suit and placed the square-framed fake glasses on his nose. This was the persona he had created for the public; the unassuming, studious Quatre Winner that didn't know any more than how to sign papers. "How do I look?" he asked, feeling slightly self-conscious. Honestly, he would have felt more at home in a Preventers uniform, or, better yet, a flight suit. He shivered as Trowa's eyes raked over him.
"Sexy," the tallest pilot finally said.
Quatre sighed. "I'm not supposed to look sexy. I'm supposed to look like a stuck up politician."
"There can't be sexy politicians?" Duo laughed, having finally collected himself.
"I don't know," Quatre responded honestly. "Logic says there should be somewhere, but I've never met one."
Trowa gave a teasing smile. "I'm relieved."
Quatre smacked him lightly on the arm, taking the gun Wufei handed to him and placing it beneath his jacket. "Let's go. We have to get there before anyone else shows."
"It's not safe for you to be wandering around," one of the wizards finally spoke up. "You-know-who is—"
"I'm positive Hermione's explained some things to you," Quatre interrupted, securing a mike to his tie. "So trust me when I say that Voldemort is the least of our worries right now." He suddenly looked up, remembering something. "Uh oh."
"Please tell me you did not just say 'uh oh'," Wufei moaned.
Quatre gave a strange little smirk. "Relena's supposed to be there."
All the wizards were completely surprised when Heero groaned. Loudly.
~*~
"Everyone is in position," Heero's voice came through the comm. piece in Quatre's ear.
"Copy that," he replied softly, leaning casually against the wall. He was in a position where he could see everyone in the lobby of the hotel the conference was being held at. It was a good position, and Quatre was hoping he wouldn't have to move too much.
"Quatre!" He turned and winced as one of his sisters came towards him. "Jezebel said you weren't going to be here," Sara said, sweeping him into a deceptively strong hug. "She said you were on a mission," she whispered. Well, at least she could be discreet, even if she was currently trying to suffocate him.
"Sara…air…" He could hear snickering over the comm. and silently threatened his friends. Sara smiled sheepishly and stepped back, allowing Quatre to straighten. "And, FYI, I'm working."
A look of realization crossed over her face. "Oh. Well, in that case I should probably warn you. Orson Roth is supposed to be here."
Quatre groaned softly, resisting the urge to pound his head into a wall. He and Roth had met in one of the high schools Quatre had infiltrated during the war. The man was three years older than the agent and completely annoying. He had fallen for Quatre and the blond had turned him down flat, making Roth rather unhappy. Roth was of the opinion that if Quatre couldn't be with him, then he couldn't be happy. At all.
"I'll try to keep him away from you, but I can't make any promises," Sara said, patting his shoulder.
"You're a lifesaver, Sar," Quatre murmured. There was a small question about Roth and Quatre sighed. "I'm not sure if he's a threat or not," he murmured just loud enough for the mike to pick up. "Well, he's definitely a threat, but not always in the conventional way."
There was a soft growl that he recognized as coming from Trowa and the comm. fell silent. He watched as the lobby filled with more people, the politicians mingling and charming with their suave words and fake smiles. Quatre participated in small talk, eyes always roaming and his Space-Heart open for feelings of ill intent. He winced slightly as he heard Relena's enthusiastic greeting of Heero over the comm..
There was a sudden soft clatter on the comm. that had Quatre pausing mid-step. "Zero-Two? Do you read?" Heero was asking. "Zero-Three?" There was no answer and Quatre changed paths, heading in the direction of the back door. "Zero-Four."
"Copy that, Zero-One. I'm on my way back there now," he replied, spying Roth out of the corner of his eye. With any luck, the older man wouldn't notice him.
He slipped through the kitchen, flashing his Preventers ID to the staff, and went out the back entrance. Both Duo and Trowa were sprawled on the ground, small feathered darts lying next to them. Other than being unconscious, they were unharmed.
"Zero-Two and Zero-Three are down," Quatre reported, looking around. "Repeat, Zero-Two and Zero-Three are down. Hostiles are in the building."
"How'd they get past those two?" Wufei asked, sounding a little anxious. He was obviously worried, although Quatre was sure that the two downed agents would most probably only have a headache.
He crouched, picking up one of the darts and fingering it. "Tranquilizer of some sort. Must be a new kind, the normal ones don't work on us." Yes, genetic manipulation via the Doctors had ensured that, so Quatre pocketed the dark for further study. If there was a drug that could take them down, they were better off well informed.
"They knew we would be here," Heero muttered. Quatre gasped, spinning around as his Space-Heart picked up some extreme hatred. "Zero-Four?"
"Hold on," Quatre nearly snapped, grabbing some of the employees to keep an eye on the two agents. He raced back out to the lobby, slowing to a walk as he looked around. He spotted Antonin Dolohov, a known Death Eater that he had completely forgot was also a public figure in the muggle world. The amount of irony in that would have been hilarious in any other circumstance. "Damn," he muttered more to himself than to his fellow pilots. "Dumbledore's going to be completely insufferable in his 'I-told-you-so' state." He caught Wufei's eye and motioned to both Dolohov and the two men that were eyeing Relena across the room.
Casually, Quatre made his way over to the Death Eater, smiling pleasantly. "Afternoon, Dolohov," he greeted.
"Winner," Dolohov returned, calmly sipping from his glass. If Quatre wasn't an empath he would have never believed this man to have any ill intentions. "How is life going for you?"
"Oh it's busy," Quatre said, noticing as Roth came over to them. The sudden feeling of perverse anticipation nearly had the blond reeling. It was rather sickening, actually, and Quatre did all he could to block the feelings now that he knew who they were coming from. "Orson," he nodded in greeting.
"Hello Quatre," Roth replied with a sickening smile. "We've been waiting for you. And the Vice Foreign Minister, of course." Okay, that was new, because he was certain that Voldemort did not know that he was Harry Potter. Which meant that they were just trying to take out known muggle leaders. Unfortunately, he was both known and a leader.
Roth grabbed his arms as Dolohov pulled out a knife and Quatre twisted. He slammed a foot into Roth's knee, wishing he was wearing his combat boots instead of dress shoes, but the effect was nearly the same. Roth dropped, taking Quatre with him (he had an impressively strong grip) and the blond could only roll as the knife descended. It sliced along his collarbone but wasn't more than a glancing blow, although it was a messy one.
Quatre kicked the man's wrist, making him drop the knife and then elbowed Roth in the gut, still fighting to get away from him. Heero was taking down the two men that had suddenly attacked Relena, and Wufei was suddenly helping to take down Dolohov. Which left Roth to Quatre, who seriously hadn't liked the man before this whole kidnapping/killing scheme had come into play.
A particularly ruthless punch to the face had Roth dropping to the ground like a bag of rocks, and Quatre stood. Only to stumble and gasp as the cut along his collarbone burned with a disturbingly familiar pain. Dolohov grinned, giving a small laugh. "You're gonna be dead soon, Winner."
Quatre didn't hold much credence to that. A magical creature's venom attacked the magic a person had, not the person itself. All creatures had magic, though, and the loss of it would kill the one who lost it. The only thing that made muggles different from wizards was the amount of magic they had. So it stood to reason that if Harry's magic had followed him into Quatre's body, than the immunity to snake poison (via the incident with the basilisk all those years ago) would follow as well.
He gave a small, feral smirk. "Basilisk poison. Really?" he said, nearly hissing the words as he leaned closer to the man. He didn't even want to know how close he sounded to Voldemort in that moment, because frankly, that was a disturbing thought. "Did you really think you could take me out with a snake?"
Dolohov's eyes widened and he twisted, trying to get away from Wufei, who had handcuffed him. It didn't necessarily work the way he had hoped, as instead the Death Eater fell, landing awkwardly on the knife on the floor. Normally, this wouldn't have been cause for concern, as the knife only nicked his arm, hardly drawing any blood. But with the blade coated in such a deadly poison, the man was dead within minutes.
Quatre looked up at Wufei, who was staring at the Death Eater in shock. "Don't touch the knife. It's poisoned." Wufei's eyes looked up at him, and he could see the concern. "Don't worry. I'm immune," he said soothingly, although he winced slightly. "Although that doesn't stop it from hurting like hell."
He sat down heavily, one hand pressed against the injury and the other his head. He was slightly surprised when Duo and Trowa sat down on either side of him, looking rather pale as they watched Heero and Wufei deal with the three living suspects. "Are you two okay?" he asked softly.
"Head hurts," Duo answered mildly, eyeing the blond. "Looks like you got more action than us."
"Relena and I were the targets," Quatre replied with a small sigh. "Just don't tell Dumbledore and his posse that it was a Death Eater plot to rid the muggle world of two of its main political and economic leaders, and we'll all be good."
Duo winced. "Ah. Don't care for the 'I-told-you-so' speech?" he asked, and retreated under Quatre's glare.
The blond just wasn't in the mood.
