Disclaimer: Usually I write out a very specific disclaimer explaining exactly what it is I don't own but I find myself not really interested in doing so this time as it is very tedious. Suffice it to say I own nothing that was created by anyone else and I am not making any money off of this story or any of the other stories I have written.

Warnings: Mild to moderate violence, character death, foul language, brief mentions of implied rape (no descriptions), alternate universe (i.e. kiss canon goodbye), angst, drama, Dumbledore and Snape bashing, implied bashing of select Weasleys (no specifics mentioned), OOC moments, and who knows what else.

AN: This story is self-beta'd; so there may be occasional grammatical or spelling errors that crop up every now and then and for those I apologize in advance.

Chapter 9: Friendship in the Making

Harry woke slowly and reluctantly; his entire body aching fiercely. Additionally, he had a killer headache that was beating out an irregular tempo in his head, a dry scratchy itch that was digging at the back of his eyes, and what felt like millions of burning pins and needles that were stabbing at his chest and throat. He couldn't ever remember a time when he'd felt so horrible: not when he'd regrown various bones over the years and not even after Voldemort had tortured him in the graveyard using the Cruciatus Curse – though the journey that had brought him to this world might have come close.

He also felt extremely weak; as if he'd just run a fifty mile marathon while being chased by a dozen starving dragons before casting a dozen patronuses in a row without any breaks while facing a thousand dementors. Peeling his eyes open was a chore and a half and at first he thought maybe he was back in the hospital wing and everything that had happened over the past twenty-two months had been nothing more than a bad dream. It only took a few minutes for him to realize that the white walls of the room were too close together, determine that the bed he was tucked into was far too large and comfortable, and recall that the hospital beds at Hogwarts didn't have moss colored mosquito netting hanging from a bronze canopy.

Panic quickly began to set in as he knew that if he wasn't in the hospital wing, then he should have been in his cave and he was without a doubt most certainly not in his cave. The fearful whimper he let out cut off abruptly as the pain in his throat spiked sharply as struggled to free himself from the rather heavy pile of blankets that covered him.

"Easy, kid, there's nothing to be afraid of here," a voice murmured and Harry automatically flinched away from the unfamiliar voice and struggled harder, his fear spiking because he didn't recognize the voice and because he was starting to have trouble breathing due to the growing pain in his chest.

"Harry, calm down; you are safe."

That voice Harry recognized and even as he stopped fighting to free himself he felt a spike of resentment as he turned to glare at Heero. The teenaged pilot just sighed and shook his head in response and Harry started to growl only to stop when that small sound made his throat hurt worse.

"It's best you try not to make any sound right now," the first voice instructed. "You're still recovering and it will probably be a couple of days before your throat will stop hurting. Forcing yourself to talk through the pain could also potentially cause permanent damage to your throat and vocal cords."

Tearing his eyes away from Heero, Harry turned his head as his eyes searched for the source of the voice. When his eyes landed on another teen, Harry was a bit taken aback; were there no adults in this world? He then let his eyes take in the teen's appearance; noting his flyaway brown hair that seemed to defy gravity while half hiding his face at the same time. Harry actually gasped when he found a single green eye staring back at him as he'd never before known anyone to have eyes that shade of green (aside from his mother). A closer look made him realize that those eyes looked nothing like his or his mother's eyes as the green was several shades darker than his eyes and they were far colder than his mother's eyes had looked in his pictures of her (unaware that his own eyes appeared just as cold at times).

I don't know why I thought they looked like mine, Harry thought as he closed his eyes and tried to beat back the surge of disappointment that filled him the moment he realized his mistake. It's not like there's any possibility of me finding any family here on this world. This isn't even my world and I don't belong here.

"Aside from your throat, are you in any other pain? Just shake your head yes or no, don't try to speak."

Harry reopened his eyes to stare up at the unfamiliar teen again before he simply rolled over as best he could, trapped as he was beneath the covers. Unfortunately, that put him face to face with Heero who was studying him with those intense blue eyes and Harry felt a wave of rage wash through him and he let out a soft strangled growl as he glared at the one he blamed for all his recent troubles.

"You need to answer Barton's question, Harry. And you need to stop trying to speak."

If Harry's throat didn't hurt as bad as it did and if Heero hadn't given him that last order; Harry would have told Heero to butt out and mind his own business. The warning thrum of his magic reminding him of the oath he'd given the other teen had Harry grimacing and pressing a hand to his heart as he glanced back towards the other teen and gave a single sharp nod of affirmation before he dropped his head back onto the pillow and closed his eyes again. He wasn't certain what the teen could do about his pain but soon found out when he felt the covers pulled down on one side and something cold rubbing across his upper arm coupled with the strong scent of rubbing alcohol just a few minutes later.

His eyes flew open and he jerked his head sideways in time to see the teen prepping a syringe. Harry frowned in confusion as he watched the process until he realized that the teen intended to inject whatever it was in the needle into his arm. The last thing Harry wanted was for some kid that was mostly likely at least a year or two younger than himself to jab him with a needle in order to drug him with some unknown substance. So, despite how much pain he was in and how weak he felt, Harry didn't hesitate to lash out at the teen while at the same time renewing his effort to free himself the rest of the way from the covers. Unfortunately, Harry was still far too weak and he was facing two to one odds as Heero quickly jumped in to help the strange teen restrain him.

"Harry, stop; Barton is only trying to give you something for the pain," Heero instructed as the blue-eyed teen secured both of Harry's wrists while the other teen grabbed hold of his arm. "He isn't going to hurt you, not really. Please, trust me; everything is going to be fine. Barton is the one that has been helping us to take care of you while you've been sick."

Harry hissed and jerked as he felt the sting of the needle all the while glaring hatefully at Heero. When he felt the drug induced lethargy stealing over him, Harry struggled to stay awake only for Heero to tell him to sleep. The last thing he heard before the darkness claimed him was the unfamiliar teen making some comment about him being a feisty one and Heero wordlessly snorting in reply.

The next time Harry woke it was to a slight stinging and tugging sensation in his left knee and he shifted away from the feeling only to feel someone grab hold of his leg. He let out a wordless protest as he opened his eyes and half sat up only to have a long haired teen push him back down onto the bed and tell him to hold still a bit longer. He frowned at the half familiar teen (fear lurking in the depths of his eyes) even as he hastily shoved the teen's hand off of him. He then lifted himself up onto his elbows a second time to see the green-eyed teen from before, whose name he couldn't remember, messing with his left knee and he automatically tried to pull his leg free.

Said teen deftly prevented his escape and glanced up to meet Harry's gaze before he went back to what he was doing as he calmly instructed, "Please hold still a bit longer; your knee has finally healed to the point where the stitches are no longer necessary and I need to finish removing them."

"Let go of me and leave me alone!" Harry hissed demandingly through his still sore throat as he ignored the request for him to hold still as he continued to weakly struggle against the teen's hold. The long haired teen intervened at that point as he once more pushed Harry back onto the bed and held him in place with one arm while Harry's panic continued to rise. "Get your filthy hands off of me you mangy malignant mountain trolls! Damn it! Will you stop touching me already!? Did you hear me, you infernally inconsiderate imbeciles!? I told you to let me go!"

"Calm down, kiddo; we ain't gonna hurt ya. I'll let ya go as soon as ya stop flailin' around and hold still."

Harry stopped fighting at that point but only because his frantic struggles had triggered a violent coughing fit and it felt like hundreds of burning hot razors were tearing through his lungs and throat. Tears slipped from the corners of his tightly closed eyes and he curled up in on himself in an effort to suppress the coughs until the fit passed. Feeling even weaker than he had before; Harry simply laid there gasping and sobbing as the pain rose and fell in waves with each ragged breath and every beat of his heart as the hands holding him slowly withdrew. When someone grabbed hold of his left leg just a few minutes later and gently pulled it straight, Harry let out a strained whine and tried to twist away from the touch.

"Easy, kid, I just needed to straighten your leg out so I could reach the rest of the stitches. I promise that I won't touch you any more than I need to and that I won't touch you anywhere else. Maxwell, fill up that water bottle with hot water, wrap it in a towel, and see if you can get the kid to hold against his chest to help ease the pain he will be feeling after all of that coughing."

Not five minutes later, Harry felt a warm wrapped bundle invading his personal space as a low, gentle voice coaxed, "Budge up a bit, kiddo; this here will help da pain go away. All ya gotta do is hold it against your chest and da heat will do da rest."

With great reluctance, Harry did as he was told in order to ease the burning ache that grew sharper with each breath he took. The moment he pulled the towel wrapped hot water bottle against his chest the soothing warmth eased the tightness and he let out a soft sobbing sigh as the pain instantly began fading. Several tears of relief slipped from between his eyelids as it became easier to breath and his arms tightened around the water bottle as if to bring it even closer to him. His breathing had almost returned to normal when he once again felt the stinging and tugging sensation that had woken him up in the first place and he flinched and opened his eyes to stare at the green eyed teen leaning over his leg.

"Who in Merlin's name are you two, anyway? Where have you taken me? What in the nine levels of hell are you going to do to me?" Harry rasped out weakly as he fought to remain calm and uncurled himself just enough so that he could eye both teens suspiciously. "And what in the name of Merlin's burning beard have you done with Heero?"

"I'm hurt… ya don't remember me kiddo?" the long haired teen asked with a pout as he pressed both hands over his heart in mock pain. "And who said we were gonna do anythin' ta ya? We just want ta help ya."

"I sort of remember you… you were going to kill Heero," Harry accused as he rolled onto his back and frowned up at the pilot he only vaguely remembered. "And if you really wanted to help me you'd have left me the hell alone and stayed off my damn beach! Where's Heero? You better not have hurt him or I'm going to make you regret ever setting your Merlin cursed eyes on me."

"It was an honest mistake… I was only lookin' ta protect ya and I ain't done anythin' ta Hee-man," the teen mumbled as he reached up and tugged on his braid. "Anyway, da name's Duo Maxwell; I might run…"

"…and hide but you never tell a lie, that's you in a nut shell," Harry finished as that particular memory floated up from the depths of his subconscious. Harry then glanced back down to the other teen and watched him intently as he pulled out the last few stitches, cleaned Harry's knee with some kind of solution that stung the tiny holes where the stitches had been removed, and wrapped his knee up in a new bandage.

"I'm Trowa Barton," Trowa finally introduced himself after he'd finished with Harry's knee, wiped his hands off on a damp towel, and lifted his gaze to meet Harry's turbulent and mistrustful eyes. "Are you still feeling any pain in your chest or throat? Or are you having any difficulties breathing?"

"Are you a doctor?"

"No, but I do have some medical training and have some experience in dealing with sick and injured animals through my job with a traveling circus."

"Really, what kind of animals?"

"I mostly work with the lions, tigers, and elephants and you are trying to change the subject."

"I'm fine."

"Pull the other one, kid."

"Don't call me kid and I told you I'm fine."

"Ya haven't exactly introduced yourself so what else do ya expect us ta call ya, kiddo?" Duo asked with amusement as Harry and Trowa frowned at each other. "And do ya really expect us ta believe that ya don't feel any pain at all?"

"I am perfectly fine. I don't need any more Merlin be damned shots," Harry practically growled as he weakly sat up, pulled his legs up to his chest in order to bring them out of reach of Trowa, and slipped his arms around his legs without releasing the hot water bottle pressed against his chest as he once again began glaring at both teens. "And it's Harry; not kid or kiddo and most especially not boy."

"Is there a last name to go with that?"

"Just Harry," Harry mumbled uncomfortably in a desire to not give away too much information as he dropped his eyes down to stare at his bandaged knee. A heartbeat later, long ingrained manners (drilled into him by his overly strict aunt) had him adding a soft, "And thank you, Mr. Barton, for fixing my knee; even though there was no need for you to do so."

"You're welcome and I'd much rather you called me Trowa," the green eyed teen insisted as he grimaced. "And please tell me the truth; are you feeling any pain at all? If you are, I can get you some aspirin to take if you don't want another shot."

"Aspirin isn't going to work. I have stuff I can take to numb the pain when I get home; so if you could kindly show me the way out I will be on my way and out of your hair in three shakes of a crup's tail," Harry muttered despite the fact that his throat had started burning due to all the talking he'd been doing

"Your island cave is still under siege by OZ troops," Duo stated as he sat down on the foot of bed. "I'm afraid it will be months before we can sneak ya back in ta get your things. And before ya go thinkin' of sneakin' off on your own; ya should know we're in a different country now and well over five thousand miles away."

Harry jerked his head up to stare at Duo in shock and felt a wave of despair wash over him over the knowledge that he'd probably never see his home again and that all of his things were as good as lost. Then he began to grow angry; he didn't ask for them to steal him away from his home and he certainly never asked either of the two teens to turn up on the beach where he'd made his home. Just as quickly as it had come, the anger fled as resignation filled Harry; there was nothing he could do to change the past (a lesson he'd learned years ago).

"I'm sure your things will be safe, Harry," Duo assured him. "And one of us will gladly take ya ta get them once it's safe."

"It the mean time you can rest up while you recover," Trowa interjected. "You were pretty sick there for a while and we almost lost you a time or two."

"Would have been better if you'd left me to die," Harry whispered with conviction as he dropped back on the bed, pulled he covers up over his head, and curled up in a ball. "It would have been safer for everyone that way."

"Oh don't go starting that crap again, kiddo," Duo growled as he threw his arms up in the air.

"He has a one track mind," Heero dryly stated as he entered the room in time to overhear that last exchange. "I lost track of the number of times he's mentioned death in my presence."

"You're the one who said you were going to kill me first," Harry barked as he poked his head out and glared at the teen to whom he was oath bound. "By Merlin's rotten crotch; death certainly would have been preferable to the slow and painful torture you promised me when you thought I was lying to you about the stupid ugly robot that I hauled out of the ocean."

"And I will regret the things I said and did that night for the rest of my life," Heero countered solemnly without acknowledging the heated glare he was now getting from Duo. "I was trained as a soldier and it wasn't until that night that I realized I was becoming a heartless monster."

"I still hate you," Harry hissed as he felt his anger stirring once more as his memories of the night in question and the oath he'd been forced to give were dredged up from the recesses of his mind due to the current topic.

"Not as much as I hate myself," Heero calmly replied as he moved closer to the bed.

"Don't the three of you have anything better to do than torment our guest?"

Harry shifted his gaze passed Heero to find yet another teen standing in the door pressing a hand to his heart (as if he was in pain) as he scowled lightly at the other three teens (at least Harry thought he was scowling; it was hard to tell without his glasses). Harry frowned and shifted uncomfortably as a spike of sheer terror and old rage rose up inside of him he as the new teen sharply reminded of Draco Malfoy which in turn reminded him of Lucius Malfoy, the Chamber of Secrets fiasco, and the night of Voldemort's rebirth.

The fury and fear faded just seconds later as the passing resemblance to his old rival vanished once he got a good look at the teen when the blond moved further into the room. Confusion replaced his inner turmoil when he sensed something inside of him shifting in response to the new teen as his eyes searched the teen's face intently.

"Don't mind my fellow pilots, child; they're violent and dangerous but they're all really nice guys.*"

Harry didn't bother to say anything in reply; he was far more interested in comparing the teen in front of him to his old rival. Like Draco, the new teen was fairly petite though a good few inches taller than Harry had been prior to his being de-aged and he wore rather expensive looking clothes (much like Malfoy).

In addition to the similar looking pale blond hair, their hairstyles were eerily similar (but not identical) as well, though this teen's hair showed no hints of the styling gel that Draco had made liberal use of to keep his hair neatly in place. The teen now standing in front of him also had a fuller face that looked softer somehow; nothing at all like the sharp, ferret-like face of the youngest Malfoy. The biggest two differences though were in the teen's small smile that was in no way mocking or cruel and the teen's jewel-like light blue eyes that shone with life instead of malice.

"You're last name isn't Malfoy, is it?" Harry hesitantly asked when he could no longer contain his curiosity as he tilted his head to the side and continued to search the depths of those friendly blue eyes.

"No, I've never heard of anyone named Malfoy. My name is Quatre Raberba Winner. Might I ask who you are?"

"A world with no Malfoys?" Harry mused as the barest hint of a smile ghosted over his face as he closed his eyes for a heartbeat so he could savor that small revelation. "That has to be the nicest thing I've heard since I woke up stranded all alone on the beach two years ago." Harry then opened his eyes once more to see an expectant look on Quatre's face and it took him a moment to remember that the teen had asked him his name. Blushing with embarrassment, Harry ducked his head and rubbed the back of his head as he mumbled, "I'm Harry James Potter."

Harry then froze and snapped his head back up in shock as he realized he'd given out his full name; something he'd only done once before when he'd sworn his oath to Heero. He was a bit surprised when none of the teens appeared to have paid all that much attention to him except Quatre who was still smiling at him.

"It's nice to meet you, Harry. It's also nice to see you awake and in much better health."

"Th…thank you," Harry stuttered self consciously before he furrowed his brow and glanced furtively towards Heero before focusing on Quatre once more, feeling far more at ease addressing the blond teen for some reason. "What… Mr. Bar… that is… Trowa said something about me being sick… How? I… I mean I've never been sick before."

"You came down with a severe case of Space Flu," Trowa answered when Quatre looked to the green eyed teen instead of offering an answer. "It's a pretty nasty virus that is fatal eighty-seven percent of the time. What confuses me is how you managed to catch it at your age since you should have been given an immunization shot shortly after you were born to prevent you from catching the virus."

"Space Flu?" Harry repeated skeptically as he whipped his head around to look at the other teen and furrowed his brow in confusion. "That almost sounds made up. You're not going to have to stick me with another needle in order to make certain I don't catch it again, are you?"

"No, now that you've had it you will never be affected by it again because your body has learned how to fight the virus. I will, however, need to draw a blood sample to check for the presence of the antibodies for the rest of the common diseases and viruses out there that are nearly as bad as Space Flu; each one of them unpleasant to go through. I don't want to take the risk that you missed out on any of the other childhood immunizations that you should have been given before you reached age five."

Harry wrinkled his nose in displeasure and scooched further away from Trowa which drew a snicker of amusement from Duo. Harry shifted so he could stare at the long haired pilot for a moment before he turned back to Quatre, still curious as to why he felt drawn to the teen. He absently noticed that Quatre was no longer clutching at his chest and he wondered why he'd thought the teen had been in pain earlier when he was clearly fine now. Harry also noticed that the teen hadn't stopped smiling; in fact, the teen practically radiated warmth and happiness and the calming effect it had on Harry's mind almost felt familiar.

"I bet you must be hungry," Quatre mused suddenly, pulling Harry out of his thoughts. "It's been well over two weeks after all, since we stumbled into you and your two friends in Japan."

"I don't have any friends," Harry absently corrected as he focused on the rest of Quatre's words. "Two weeks? I was sick for two weeks?"

"More like closer to three weeks," Heero interjected. "You passed out after moving Maxwell's Gundam and you fell sick just a couple of days after that. Maxwell and I watched over you for a week before the other pilots found us."

"He didn't just move my Deathscythe, he cut my poor Gundam in half," Duo complained under his breath as he scowled and tugged on his braid. "I can't even fit inside da damn cockpit now."

"Shut up, Maxwell," Heero ordered as he cuffed the other teen on the back of his head.

Harry cringed and shrank back away from the two teens; his eyes wide and nervous due to Duo's apparent anger and Heero's reaction. When there were no further signs of violence forthcoming, Harry relaxed just a bit until he finally registered what Heero had said earlier about exactly how long he'd been sick. Tensing his shoulders, he turned to stare blankly at Heero as he tried to wrap his mind around the idea that he'd virtually lost three weeks due to an illness. He had the vaguest impression of aching all over, of being too hot, and of half forgotten nightmares but there had been no real sense of time passing.

"Harry?"

Harry turned back to Quatre to see what the teen wanted. "Would you like me to bring you something to eat?"

"I'm not…" Harry started to say he wasn't hungry only to pause when his stomach growled in protest and Harry flushed bright red in mortification as he ducked his head.

"I guess your stomach decided to speak for itself, I'll be back shortly with a little something for you," Quatre replied with a warm smile and a soft laugh; his eyes sparkling with amusement as he turned to leave.

"I'll be fine… you don't have to trouble yourself on my account."

"Harry, you need to eat something," Heero insisted, earning a sharp glare and a frown from the wizard.

"It's no trouble at all," Quatre assured him as he paused halfway to the door and glanced back at Harry to give him another reassuring smile before continuing on his way out of the room.

Harry watched the blond go with mixed feelings before he turned to warily watch the other three teens, paying closer attention to Heero out of necessity (due to his oath). Trowa seemed to be ignoring him completely as he cleaned up the mess he'd made when pulling the stitches from Harry's knee. Duo was sprawled across the end of the bed still, his head propped up on one elbow and his feet bouncing slightly as he grinned at Harry. Heero, on the other hand, just stood there with his hands in his pockets as he watched Harry in return with an unreadable expression on his face.

"So what do ya like ta do for fun, kiddo? Aside from ruin perfectly workin' Gundams, that is," Duo asked after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence. The long haired teen yelped a few seconds later as Heero reached out and slapped him upside the head a second time.

"Huh?" Harry uttered in confusion as he glanced between the two pilots and tried to figure out just what the hell was going on between the two of them.

"Ya know… do ya play sports? Read books? Play games? Blow things up? What do ya do when you're bored? Me, I like ta tinker with da junk I find lyin' around."

"Why do you want to know?"

"I'm just curious and want ta get ta know ya better," Duo replied with a shrug of his shoulder.

"Why?"

"Why not?"

Harry opened his mouth to retort only to pause as he furrowed his brow in confusion as he stared at the grinning teen. After a another couple of minutes he let out a huff and uncurled just enough to ease the growing ache in his left knee before he finally consented to answer the annoying pilot's question, "I don't really have any hobbies and it's been nearly two years since I've had time to have fun."

"Surely there must be something you like to do," Trowa interjected with a hint of surprise over Harry's response.

"I used to fly at school but I don't… that is I haven't really felt like flying much for a long time."

"Flyin' really? Fancy yourself a pilot then huh? What model do ya usually fly?"

Harry just shrugged and shook his head, uncertain whether they would believe him if he told them that he flew a broom, not a plane, and he wasn't certain of just how much he wanted to tell the teens because he still didn't know if there was a magical society on this Earth. If there was, there was a high probability that they had the same laws that made it illegal to tell muggles about the wizarding world like there had been on his Earth; which meant he was already in serious trouble for revealing the magical world to Heero.

"Well, if ya don't want ta talk about flyin' why don't ya tell us what else ya like ta do."

Harry sighed as he dropped his chin down onto his right knee and muttered, "No."

"Ah, come on; don't be like that. Can't ya give us somethin' ta work with here?"

Irritated over the teen's persistence, Harry hissed angrily as he grabbed hold of the first thing his hands came into contact with (which just happened to be the hot water bottle he'd been holding against his chest) and flung it at Duo as hard as he could. The long haired pilot would have been hit in the face with the fast flying water bottle if Heero hadn't reached out and snagged the thing out of the air at the last second. Furious over the intervention, Harry immediately began searching for something else to throw.

"Harry, stop," Heero ordered as he moved closer to where Harry was sitting. "You need to calm down before you end up hurting yourself."

Snarling, Harry ignored the warning twinge of pain centered over his heart as he purposefully ignored the order, grabbed hold of the pillow behind him, and smacked Heero in the face with it. The pillow was then yanked out of his hands by a scowling Heero when he tried to pull it back in preparation for a second strike and Harry sneered at him in defiance even as he began to have difficulty breathing through the growing pain. The pillow exploded in a cloud of feathers an instant later as Harry's magic lashed out violently in response to his anger and Harry screamed as the pain of fighting his oath centered in his heart exploded outwards and ripped through his still tender chest in retaliation.

He felt as if he was drowning as the crushing weight of his oath demanded his immediate compliance; his magic singing angrily as it burned through his veins in response to his attempt to break his oath. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'll stop… please… I won't disobey again… please, no more," Harry pleaded as he coughed up blood and desperately clutched at his chest as he pitched forward and curled up into a ball.

Exhaustion swept through him the instant he stopped fighting his oath; his magic withdrawing back into his core and taking most of the pain with it. A single broken sob passed through Harry's lips along with more blood as his words trailed off and he stopped moving. The three pilots stared at Harry in shock and horror for several seconds before Trowa and Heero both darted forward and gently uncurled Harry so they could make certain the wizard was still alive. It didn't take them long to confirm that his heart was still beating, if weak and sluggishly, and that he was still breathing.

Harry felt hands rolling him over onto his side as someone wiped his face free of blood and he weakly swatted at the towel swiping at his faces as he hissed out a weak and petulant, "No touch."

"Just try to relax, Harry, we're trying to help you," Heero gently suggested as he grabbed Harry's hands and prevented him from blocking him again; the former perfect soldier more than a little shaken over the rather violent episode in the wake of Harry's defiance (the pint-sized teen's earlier two fits of disobedience mild in comparison).

"Can you take a deep breath for me, Harry?" Trowa asked as he placed his ear against Harry's back; making the pint sized seventeen year old stiffen and whimper in response to the contact.

"Easy, Harry; Barton just wants to listen to your lungs to make certain they aren't filling up with blood. The sooner you take a couple of deep breaths the sooner it will be over."

Fifteen minutes later, Harry was curled up with the hot water bottle (freshly refilled with hot water) pressed close to his chest once more. He was far more subdued than he had been after his earlier coughing fit; the memory of his own magic lashing out at him far too fresh in his mind. Both Duo and Trowa had left once they were certain that Harry was out of immediate danger while Heero had remained behind to keep watch over the wizard. Harry was doing his level best to simply ignore the teen as he lay on his side with his eyes closed while he tried to ignore the lingering ache in his chest.

It wasn't too much later that Quatre finally returned carrying a tray holding a bowl and a single glass. The moment the soft click of the door being opened reached Harry's ears, he'd opened his eyes and lifted his head just enough to see who had entered the room (already knowing no one was leaving it since he knew that Heero was still perched on the bed behind him). Once he identified the person as Quatre, Harry dropped his head back down onto the replacement pillow that Trowa had provided before he left and let his eyes fall closed once more. He opened his eyes again when he heard the sound of metal sliding against wood as Quatre set the tray on the nightstand sitting beside the bed but made no effort to greet the other teen or sit up.

"Would you like me to help you sit up so you can eat, Harry?" Quatre inquired the moment he noticed Harry's eyes were open.

"Not hungry."

"Harry, we discussed this earlier; you need to eat something. You can sit up on your own or one of us can help you sit up but either way you need to sit up and eat."

"Yes, sir," Harry snapped back half-heartedly as a flash of resentment swept through him before he squashed it ruthlessly and struggled to push his way clear of the covers that Trowa had pulled up over him earlier. A hand floated into his line of sight and Harry hissed and shied back away from it only to freeze in confusion when the hand merely pulled the covers down off of him to make it easier for him to sit up on his own. Swallowing thickly, Harry timidly glanced up at the individual attached to said hand and found Quatre smiling at him in encouragement and Harry shifted nervously as he croaked out a soft, "Er… thank you."

"You're welcome," Quatre replied as he settled the tray he'd carried into the room onto Harry's lap the moment Harry had finally managed to prop himself up against the headboard.

Harry ducked his head and awkwardly picked up the spoon on the tray in order to avoid meeting either teens' eyes. He gave the bowl of soup on his lap a stir, his mind automatically identifying the individual ingredients that he could both see and smell. Four long years of potion classes with the Slytherins and Snape had taught him to analyze any substance placed before him in order to avoid explosions or an intentional poisoning and being in the company of strangers in a strange house meant that he was on high alert.

After a thorough inspection of the proffered food, Harry tentatively took a small bite; letting the food sit on his tongue for a moment as he carefully chewed the vegetables while continuing his analysis of the soup. After a few cautious bites, Harry felt certain that they weren't trying to poison or drug him and he simply enjoyed the first home cooked meal he'd had in a long time.

Sure, there'd been times when he'd cooked for himself over the last two years but for the most part he never bothered because it was easier to make a sandwich or grab the ready made food Sirius had provided for him since cooking always reminded him of his time with the Dursleys. And while he might have denied it outright if asked, he had been far hungrier than he thought he was and it felt nice to have something warm in his stomach. He was actually a bit surprised when he found the bowl empty sometime later when it seemed like he'd just started eating.

"If you are still hungry, I can get you another bowl."

Jumping a bit over the unexpected offer due to the fact that he'd forgotten that he wasn't alone in the room and because he wasn't used to such kindnesses, Harry blushed and stuttered, "N… no th…thank you; I'm okay for now. That was m…more than I usually eat in one sitting. It… it was very good."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it; if you change your mind and wish to have seconds, just let me know," Quatre urged as he moved the tray so it wasn't in his way.

Harry nodded hesitantly as he slipped down to curl up on his side once more; tensing momentarily when he felt someone pulling the covers back up over him. A glance over his shoulder revealed that Heero was still in the room and he scowled at the brunette before retrieving the hot water bottle that he'd abandoned in order to eat and snuggled into the pillow as the pleasant warmth of both water bottle and meal eased the lingering ache in his chest. The soothing warmth soon began pulling him under and Harry fought against falling asleep for a few minutes until a soft order from Heero sent him into the arms of Morpheus.

He woke up sometime later when he felt fingers running through his hair and he mistakenly thought he was in the hospital wing once more with his godfather hovering over him. "I just had the scariest dream, Sirius," Harry murmured without opening his eyes; never noticing that the hand stroking his hair stopped moving the moment he started speaking. "More like a nightmare really."

"What did you dream about?"

Harry frowned when he noticed Sirius's voice sounded off but he shrugged it off as he answered the question, "I dreamt that you sent me away because everyone betrayed me and you wanted to protect me. You had me half convinced that Dumbledore was plotting my death because he wanted to use the Potter Fortune to take over the world. I should have known it was a dream… you'd never send me away like that, would you, Sirius? You even messed up whatever spell you used to send me away. You shrank me down to the size of a seven year old and let me tell you being short sucks; even in a dream."

"Was that all there was to your dream?"

"No… there were these giant robots that kept attacking each other, only they had people inside of them. But you know what the strangest thing was? The whole world was filled with nothing teenagers. I was there for two years in my dreams and not once did I see any adults. Do you think I dreamt it was kids killing kids because Voldemort's back now? I mean; it seems like he's been trying to kill me since I started Hogwarts and I know he'll come after me again which means my friends will be in danger too."

"I really wish that I knew why he wanted me dead so badly; Dumbledore knows why but he wouldn't tell me when I asked. He said I was too young. It's really annoying how he never gives straight answers when you ask him a question too. Hey, Sirius, how come you're still here with me? I thought Dumbledore sent you to gather… to gather the old crowd. Who exactly is the old crowd supposed to be, anyway?"

Harry finally opened his eyes as he asked that last question only to start when he came face to face with a blond haired, blue eyed teen instead of his godfather and he let out a strangled whimper. Tears pricked at the back of his eyes as he felt a sense of hopelessness well up inside of him as reality slammed into him once more. His godfather had sent him away and he was trapped in a world full of teenagers that killed each other with giant robots.

"You know… some of the scariest nightmares are those that are based on reality," Quatre gently supplied as he once again ran his fingers through Harry's hair causing Harry to flinch and shift away. "I am willing to listen, if you wish to talk about what is bothering you."

"Why?"

"Because I can feel your pain and I wish to help you."

"You can feel… are you an empath?"

"I suppose that is one way to describe my ability," Quatre agreed with a nod. "Does that bother you?"

"No… I'm just surprised," Harry replied as he relaxed enough to let his eyes search the room for the other three teens he'd met only to discover that he was alone with Quatre for the first time; something that surprisingly didn't bother him as much as he would have originally thought it would. "I didn't think there were any wizards in this world since no one ever came looking for me after I started using my magic again. It is frightening to think you are all alone in the world and know that there is no one out there who will understand you because they can't possibly relate to you because you are nothing like them."

"You don't see yourself as human?" Quatre asked in surprise.

"No, I'm human but it has been my experience that there are those without magic who see those of us with magic as less than human. Of course, there are those witches and wizards that see people who have no magic as worse than animals. I suppose it is human nature to either loathe those who are different or simply pretend that they don't exist because they can't be bothered to look beyond those differences and see that in the end we are all the same."

"That was a surprisingly insightful and mature observation. Can you tell me exactly what you mean by magic?"

"You don't know? But… but… aren't you a wizard? I thought… when you said you could… I thought maybe you were…"

"You thought I was what, Harry?"

"I thought you were like me," Harry whispered softly with a trace of regret lacing his tone. "I guess I really am nothing more than a freak no matter what world I live in."

"I hardly think that possessing abilities that other people don't have makes you a freak."

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes as he muttered, "Tell that to the rest of the world."

"Does it really matter what the rest of the world thinks?"

"Yeah, it does," Harry replied as he turned his thoughts inwards and recalled the way his fellow students had treated him during his second year and again during his fourth year after his name had come out of the Goblet of Fire. "No matter how hard you try to ignore it; being shunned and reviled by everyone around you just because you have a rare ability hurts. As does being called an attention seeking liar because you are forced into something against your will and you find that not even your supposed best friend of three years is willing to listen to the truth."

"Surely there must have been someone who stood beside you during those times," Quatre insisted quietly. "And wasn't there anyone else that shared the same ability as you who you could have talked to about it?"

"Oh, yeah, that would have been smart; let's go talk to the man who terrorized an entire society for over twenty years because you share the same dark ability he has and hope he'll make you feel better about being called a murdering dark lord in the making. And let's just forget that he's the same murdering bastard that not only killed your parents and hundreds of others but has been trying to kill you since before you were out of nappies."

"A simple no would have sufficed," Quatre dryly remarked in the wake of Harry's cutting sarcasm.

"Yeah… well… you brought up a rather sore subject," Harry muttered as he tried to unsuccessfully hold back the mortified blush that was creeping up the back of his neck and over his cheeks in response to the gentle admonishment.

"You know holding onto the pain doesn't make it any easier to cope with what you have been through; in fact, the longer it festers the harder it becomes to deal with."

"Kind of hard to talk to someone about the mess that is your life when they are too busy fawning over you because you are famous for something you had no control over or they can only see the pound signs because they know you are far richer than you ever imagined. Even more difficult to find someone to talk to when you are banished from your entire world and find yourself stranded alone on a deserted island for nearly two years."

"You are not alone now, Harry," Quatre softly reminded Harry.

"No, I'm not," Harry agreed slowly as he pinned Quatre with turbulent emerald eyes. "I'm currently trapped in a house with at least four perfect strangers whom I'm not certain I can trust."

"We aren't going to hurt you and we aren't here to judge you. I also doubt there is anything you could have possibly done to make us hate you."

The look in Harry's eyes turned haunted as he hoarsely demanded, "And would you still feel that way if I told you that I killed a man several years ago? That I burned him to death just because I touched him with my bare hands?"

"Hearing that saddens me because I can feel the pain that you feel over whatever happened. Knowing that you took another life isn't going to make me hate you or wish to hurt you though; especially considering the fact that you've not told me what led up to the man's death. I already know that you aren't happy that you took his life. That tells me that you didn't set out to kill him on purpose which leaves only two possible scenarios; his death was either an accident or you killed him in self-defense."

"He was trying to strangle me. I just wanted him to stop and when I grabbed his hands with mine; his skin began blistering and smoking. He immediately let go and screamed in pain. When he tried to attack me a second time, I purposefully grabbed his face with my hands and he screamed in agony as he turned to ash beneath my hands."

"You said he was attacking you when that happened; it sounds to me like what ever it was you did was done in self defense. Have you ever burned someone else like that?"

"Not exactly… at least not anyone that burned to death but I did burn my uncle on more than one occasion."

"And was he hurting you each time it happened?"

"What does it matter? Normal people don't burn people with just a touch of their hands."

"And what do you think normal people do when someone is hurting them?"

"Scream or run away."

"You don't think a normal person would fight back? You don't think a normal person would try and hurt the person who was hurting them? Maybe even kill whoever was hurting them to save their own life and stop the pain?"

"I don't know… maybe."

"What is it that bothers you; the fact that you have something inside of you that protects you from those that hurt you or the fact that you killed someone to protect yourself? Or is it that you are afraid that you will hurt someone on accident because of that power you have? Or do you think maybe it scares you because you wish to use that power to intentionally kill someone for any number of reasons because they have caused you harm?"

"I… I don't want to be a murderer. I don't want to be like him."

"Who? Who is it you don't want to be like?"

"Voldemort."

"And what is it he does?" Quatre asked gently as he reached out and brushed Harry's bangs out of his face so he could meet Harry's troubled eyes and Harry was far too caught up in his memories this time to flinch away from the touch.

"He enjoys killing people and torturing them just to hear them scream. He doesn't care who he hurts; he even tortures the people that follow him if they make mistakes or do something he doesn't like."

"And is that something you see yourself doing?"

"I don't know… I'm afraid it will be."

"What makes you say that?"

"I… I told Heero I was going to kill him and there is a part of me that wants to kill him."

"Why?"

"I pulled him off the beach because I thought he needed help; even though I wanted to just leave him there because I was scared. I took him home because a small part of me always wished that someone would have helped me when I needed it. And the first thing he did after he woke up was threaten to kill me," Harry replied tightly as he shivered in response to the memory of the day he found Heero on the beach. "I treated his threat like a joke; I couldn't help myself at the time because I'd been given more death threats than birthday and Christmas presents combined over the last sixteen years. I thought maybe he was just afraid because he woke up in a strange place so I wasn't really afraid of him; I didn't think I needed to be afraid of him because when I first found him he didn't feel like a threat."

"What happened to change the way you felt about him?"

"I think I made him mad that first night and when he tried to attack me I strung him up and left him to sulk in silence for hours. I didn't sleep well that night because of… well I didn't sleep well and the next day I was moodier than usual and when he irritated me with his nosiness, I kicked him out since he really didn't need my help. I gave him food, showed him the way out, and figured I'd seen the last of him. Because I wasn't thinking straight, I let my guard down and he attacked me from behind after he saw the giant robots I had pulled from the sea."

Harry paused and scrubbed at his face for a moment before he continued, "He demanded to know why I had them but I didn't know what he was talking about because until the robot things fell from the sky I'd never seen anything like them and had no idea what they really were or even what they were called. He didn't believe me and he threatened me. He hit me a few times and while it hurt it wasn't that bad; my cousin and his gang used to beat me up regularly enough that a few blows here and there aren't that big of deal. A small part of me was scared though because my magic still didn't see him as a threat at that point but I was far too angry to care because he called me a liar."

"Did he do anything else after that?"

"He shot me with his gun… I moved but not enough and it burned. I could feel what ever it was he shot me with burning through both skin and bone. It felt ten times worse than anything I'd ever felt before; not even Voldemort's Cruciatus Curse hurt that bad and being Cruciated is enough to make one wish for death. I begged for mercy; something that not even Voldemort had been able to make me do and I was ashamed to find I was so weak. It was at that point that he indicated he wanted to know about one of the robots I found. I told him that I used magic to haul it out of the ocean but he didn't believe me and he didn't trust me to show him how I did it. I told him I'd swear an oath not to attack him but he… he…"

"He what?" Quatre gently prompted when Harry trialed off and began shivering as the blood drained from his face.

"He demanded I swear an oath of obedience to him or he'd destroy every bone in my body. I hated him in that moment but I hated myself more because I was too weak to fight him, too terrified to risk the pain, and so I swore the oath. And now I might as well be nothing more than a slave because if I don't do what he tells me to my magic will prompt me to obey. If I try to refuse, my magic will give me a warning before it lashes out at me and causes me pain. If after that I were to still refuse, then my magic will kill me."

"And has he used that oath to hurt you or make you do inappropriate things?"

"No… he mostly just ordered me the never lie to him, to never use magic on him without his permission unless it will save a life, and to stop fighting him when he picks me up or tries to help me. And there were a couple of times when he made me let him take care of my injuries even though I could do it myself. He hasn't even stopped me from calling him names or anything even though he could. And even though I hate him and I am frightened of what he can do to me; my magic still won't see Heero as a threat."

"Would you say he was abusing the oath you gave him?"

"No… but that doesn't mean I like it. I don't need anyone to take care of me nor do I want anyone to protect me. He has no right to die for me and those who try to protect me always end up hurt if not dead. Just like my mum… Voldemort was going to let her live; all she had to do was step aside. Sirius tried to protect me from Moony and he nearly lost his soul because of me, Cedric died because he was with me when Voldemort kidnapped me from the school, and Sirius died anyway because he came back to save me from Dumbledore when he sent me away."

"You know, none of what you just told me sounds like you need to be afraid that you are going to become like this Voldemort person you keep mentioning. You are justifiably angry with Heero for abusing the trust you showed him when you opened your home to him and because he hurt you after you tried to help him. I don't think that makes you a terrible person. It also sounds like you are more than a little afraid that Heero will end up dead."

"Duo tried to kill him when he first showed up because Heero was chasing me across the beach when I was trying to escape. Heero would have let him too if I hadn't stopped the robot first," Harry muttered as he ran his hand over his eyes to wipe away the tears he hadn't realized he was crying. "Stupid jerk of a jumped up jarvey tried to order me to run away and save myself."

"Which also would have left you alone again," Quatre insightfully pointed out as he stood up. "I think maybe you should get some rest now; I can feel your exhaustion. I would like to thank you for trusting me enough to tell me part of what has been bothering you and hope you can rest a little easier after getting that off your chest. We can talk again later if you wish."

Harry felt more than a little confused as he watched Quatre gather up the tray holding his empty bowl from earlier (leaving the untouched glass of water behind) and leave the room with a friendly wave and a smile. He was also more than a little shocked that he'd been so willing to pour his heart out to the other teen when they'd only just met; something he'd originally had no intention of doing. Harry knew that part of the reason he snapped at Heero, Duo, and Trowa was due to the fact that he didn't want to grow close to any of them because he was afraid that they would only hurt or betray him.

He'd been prepared to do the same with Quatre but there was something about the blond that prevented Harry from directing too much of his anger at the teen. Not wanting to dwell on the confusing turn of events lest he give himself a migraine, Harry closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift off back to sleep as Quatre suggested.

Notes:

* 'They're violent and dangerous, but they're all really nice guys': is a direct quote of Quatre's from the series though I can't recall exactly which episode or issue it is from.

AN: For those of you who are confused about the bit where Harry's magic lashes out at him for trying to break his oath; the pain his magic inflicts originates from his magical core which is physically near the heart (something that will be further explained in detail later in the story). I'm only mentioning it now because it almost sounds like Harry's heart burst during the outburst but it was in actuality the pain radiating out from his heart (and core) at the time. I tried to make that clear in the story but it seemed like no matter how I worded that part it still sounded like I was killing him.

03-13-16: This chapter has replaced with an edited and revised edition that added seventy-nine words to the story content and revised the author's note at the end. ~ Jenn