A/N: Procrastinating on work by posting this instead...
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or Harry Potter.
Chapter 9
Reciprocity
Sirius stared at the empty stretch of wall where his mother's portrait used to be. He was leaned back against the banister, just contemplating it; they'd only discovered it through fluke. Tonks, being her usual clumsy self, had stumbled into the coat rack and knocked it over into the decorative shelves, making a loud enough clatter that Sirius had jumped up and hurried over, already ready to pull the curtains back over Walburga Black's screaming portrait.
But nothing – no screams, no yelps, not even a flutter from the curtain. Tonks had apologized and hurriedly cleaned up the mess, quick to follow Kingsley out, leaving Remus and Sirius lurched awkwardly in the corridor. After being subjected to so many venomous screaming tantrums from the staircase portrait, this newfound calm was profoundly suspicious, and it didn't take them long to try and figure out why Walburga Black's portrait suddenly decided to try a vow of silence.
In that moment, Sirius hadn't known what was more shocking – that the portrait was gone, or that all it took was a few days for Duo Maxwell to do what several adult wizards had not been able to do for months.
"She's…in the storage closet."
Sirius turned, giving Remus an inquisitive look. His friend had averted his eyes to the blank wall space however, shoulders tensed, likely from having to speak with Duo in a manner that could have been considered interrogative. The incident with the Boggart the other day had been some kind of breaking point, making truly evident the large crevasse between Remus and his son, and the wizard was having a hard time trying to find a way to bridge that gap.
"How'd he do it?" Sirius asked, genuinely curious.
"He convinced her he was an interior decorator…then asked her nicely to move."
Months, they'd spent months trying all sorts of spells to get that cursed portrait off the wall – and all Duo had done was ask nicely?
Remus's lips twitched at the corners – a smothered smile.
"Enabler," Sirius muttered. Remus's grin broke out into view, and Sirius kept his face carefully neutral as he climbed up the stairs past him. Remus turned to watch him go, but before he could ask, Sirius waved him off with a light "feeding time for Buckbeak."
Sirius paused outside Duo's bedroom door. It was closed, as it generally was when Duo occupied it. The boy could either be studying or napping; Sirius wasn't sure Duo ever slept, honestly, he seemed to be up before any of them and yet go to sleep later as well. Remus had already disappeared from the stairs, either to start dinner or continue his research into the Muggle War.
They had once again gone into their quiet time – the time they took for themselves, wherein Sirius generally fed and spent time with Buckbeak, Remus researched the Muggle War or analyzed Order mission reports, and Duo studied the magical realm. This was how they lived together for the past week, physically close and open in conversation – but distant in all the ways that mattered.
Sirius knocked twice on the door, more a warning that he was entering rather than a request for entrance. There was no response, but Sirius hadn't really expected one, and he pushed the door open into the well-lit bedroom. The room had not changed much since Duo had first arrived, aside from the removal of charms that kept the art and décor from moving independently. Duo's things, the duffel of personal belongings Moody and the others had salvaged from the guesthouse Duo had been staying at prior, was kept stashed under the bed, though some of the contents – Muggle tech that Sirius did not recognize - had been placed atop the wooden desk in the corner, along with a multitude of tomes Duo had been studying in his free time.
Duo himself was sat perched in the desk chair, though it had been moved so that the back no longer faced the doorway. The boy had the History of Magic textbook balanced on one drawn knee, a muggle writing instrument – a pen, Sirius recognized – in his hand, seemingly for writing in the margins of the book. His expressive violet eyes were trained in Sirius's direction, and though his smile was wide and friendly, he didn't make any indication of inviting Sirius further inside.
Vance thought he was dangerous. Sirius knew she was right.
Honest to all things in creation, there were times that Remus's son creeped Sirius out. Duo was small, and thin, and scarred. It reminded Sirius of Remus all those years ago, only on Duo, it seemed so much more ominous; there was no Dark curse like lycanthropy to blame for the scars seared onto that young flesh, no momentary loss of sanity to explain the dark shadows to Duo's eyes. Duo smiled, a sparkle of mischief to his eyes, but unlike in Remus – that mischief didn't seem benign. Sirius wondered if Duo had ever played a prank in his life; he liked to banter, quick with his words and sharp in his wit, but there was an edge to his tongue that seemed to hint he was far more used to drawing blood.
Sirius…was not well known for keeping himself out of danger.
"Hey," Sirius started, leaned against the open doorway, knowing better than to enter the room without permission. Striking the right balance between caution and ease with the volatile youth was key to getting along with Duo Maxwell. "If you're free, I was hoping you could help me with something?"
The amiable expression faltered briefly, Duo having been surprised by the request. "Help with what?" he asked, sitting up straighter in his seat.
There were many, many things about Duo that Sirius did not understand. His muggle upbringing, his Newtype magic, his experience with a war that Sirius had never heard about because he'd been locked in the bowels of Azkaban – but there were also some things that Sirius could understand about the boy now looking at him with renewed interest.
They were not prisoners in Grimmauld Place, but just the same, they could not leave it – and these dredged up ghosts that Sirius had never been able to put to rest. Isolation. Helplessness. These feelings stuck like tar in the crevices of Sirius's heart, and he recognized them in Duo Maxwell.
"You ever see what we keep in the master bedroom?" Sirius asked, the smile on his lips colored with the slightest hint of mischief.
Duo had closed the history tome by now, and though his eyes were attentive, he had yet to uncurl from his position in the chair. "You guys keep it locked," Duo reminded him.
Sirius snorted, fully amused. "When has that ever stopped you?" he chuckled.
There was another moment as Duo just gauged him, eyes open and assessing. Whatever he was looking for in Sirius's lax stance and expression, he apparently found; he finally stood from his chair, a grin sliding onto his lips. "That's fair," Duo agreed.
Sirius led the way out of the room and ignored the prickly feel on the back of his neck, an instinct honed from years as a dog Animagus suffering under the torture of Dementors. He didn't like to leave himself vulnerable to possible dangers, but the rational part of Sirius knew that Duo wasn't going to attack him without reason.
"Have you gotten to your magical creatures textbook yet?" Sirius asked as they climbed the stairs.
Duo mumbled something, and Sirius cocked his head, his grin threatening to widen as he caught the words.
"I'm sorry?" Sirius prompted, knowing full well what he'd heard.
He didn't turn to look back but the sullen tone in Duo's voice was audible. "It bites," the boy repeated at a much more audible volume. "You guys made a textbook that bites."
Sirius forcibly bit down on a laugh. "You have to stroke its spine," he told the boy.
"That's stupid," Duo retorted. "How am I supposed to stroke its spine if it's bitten off my damn fingers?"
Remus would probably say something consoling, or supportive, or whatever the man thought wouldn't annoy the clearly disgruntled teen. Sirius just laughed outright, both at the mulish tone and the unexpectedly childish response.
"So what'd you do with it?" Sirius asked.
"…Threw it into the fireplace."
Sirius broke out into another peal of laughter, actually pausing on the final landing to turn and get a good look at Duo's face. The braided boy wasn't smiling anymore, but neither was he wary; instead, he'd adopted an expression almost close to a pout, arms crossed over his chest and glaring at Sirius as the man continued to laugh.
"Laugh it up, buddy," Duo grunted. "Once I get it replaced, I'm gonna set it loose on you, see how you like it."
"Petty," Sirius crooned teasingly. Duo stuck his tongue out at him.
Sirius's grin felt much more real now, stopped before the master bedroom door. "Well, moving on from your heretical practice of book burning," Sirius began, ignoring Duo as he muttered something derogatory under his breath. "I want to introduce you to the most important member of our household."
Duo tensed, eyes flicking from Sirius's face to the door. "…what does that have to do with my magical creatures textbook?" he asked.
Sirius's expression sobered, suddenly solemn. "This is the wizarding world, Duo," he started gravely. "We humans are mere mortals, vessels of flesh and bone, living and breathing mistakes in the face of all creation. In the hierarchy of life, we are nothing more than a single step before greater things, and this is no more apparent than when faced with beings of pure magic and wonder."
Duo's eyes had widened considerably at Sirius's spiel, and there was a tense moment as they just stared at each other. Sirius dutifully kept his expression of untold gravity, standing like a knight at court.
"You…"
Sirius didn't even blink.
Duo continued on. "You're… You're just fucking with me, aren't you?"
Sirius grinned, wide and true. "Clever boy," he chortled, all pretenses dropped as he sniggered openly. "There's no way you got those brains from Moony."
"I can't believe you," Duo stammered out. "You're absolutely ridiculous. Do you know how cult-y that sounded? I'm pressing charges. This is emotional distress."
Sirius rolled his eyes, smile never leaving his lips. "Oh, you poor thing," he jibed. "How will you ever cope?"
"I'm suing you for everything you have," Duo continued. "I'm gonna take this house. This dumb house with its creepy décor and bloodthirsty textbooks and overabundance of poisonous fairies."
"They're called doxies," Sirius interrupted him brightly. "You'd know that if you didn't burn your magical creatures textbook."
Duo repeated the statement in a high, mocking tone.
Sirius considered the teen for a moment. If Remus were here, they'd spend the next half-hour going over the do's-and-don'ts, discussing the relevant information and answering any questions that Duo would have.
But where was the fun in that?
"Alright, kid, here's your introductory lesson to hippogriffs," Sirius started. "They're proud, so be polite, do a little bow, maintain eye contact, and let 'em make the first move."
Duo just looked honestly bemused. "My introductory lesson to wha-"
Sirius opened the door, wrapping one arm around the teen's shoulders and herding him inside the room. Duo's words abruptly died as his eyes locked on Buckbeak resting in the middle of the room, cleaning his stormy grey feathers. Sharp orange eyes focused on the two males and Buckbeak perked up, focusing on them – and then on Duo specifically.
Duo had completely frozen under Sirius's arm, but the ex-convict didn't let that deter him. "Remember, eye contact," he murmured to the boy. "Now bow, just a bit – just enough to be respectful."
Duo seemed to have just stopped breathing, but then – almost mechanically – he stuttered into a shallow bow, violet eyes wide but matching Buckbeak's gaze. Buckbeak was still, but then, he let out a low warble and lowered his own head in acknowledgment. His talons clicked against the floor as he readjusted his position back into a relaxed stance, resuming the act of cleaning his feathers once more.
Duo was still partially bent in his bow, so Sirius clasped a guiding hand on his shoulder and led him back up. "Good job," he grinned at the boy. "He approves."
"Oh my god," Duo choked out.
"Beautiful, isn't he?" Sirius continued on. "His name's Buckbeak."
"Oh my god."
Sirius ambled over to the storage chest, opening it with a flick of the wand. It acted similarly to a muggle refrigeration unit, keeping the food stored inside in a temporary stasis so that it was kept fresh for the otherwise picky Buckbeak. Sirius pulled out the carcass of a ferret, turning around and biting back another chuckle at Duo's continually gobsmacked expression.
"You want to try feeding him?" Sirius asked brightly.
Duo didn't even seem to hear him. "Never mind, I'm not suing you for this house," the boy was saying. "Now, now I'm just suing you for the principle of the matter…"
Sirius made an agreeable noise, tossing Buckbeak the ferret, which he caught with a quick snap of his beak. Duo startled, taking a hesitant step back, but Buckbeak paid him no mind as he devoured the ferret with a quick clasp of the jaw and two large swallows.
"Not much of a hands-on learner?" Sirius teased.
Duo's eyes never left the hippogriff. "I learned almost exclusively through hands-on methods," he returned shortly.
Those types of double-edged statements weren't quite as common in Duo's banter; he seemed to prefer deflection, using jokes or snappy retorts to redirect the attention of the conversation. But there were times that their words scraped a little too close to home for the boy, and the double-meaning in Duo's replies served as a warning for them to drop it.
"Is that how you learned to gouge out people's eyes?"
Violet eyes turned to match his own. Sirius didn't tense from his relaxed position, keeping his face neutral as he bent once more to fetch another ferret for Buckbeak to devour. Duo watched him this time around, silent and still, even as Sirius tossed the carcass once more to a content hippogriff.
"Had t' learn a lot of things," Duo replied, droll in tone. "Didn't always want t', but that didn't really matter either."
Sirius hadn't really known what to think when he'd first heard about Duo Maxwell.
With Harry, there had been expectation: shock at the reveal, dismay that his friends were bringing this new, fragile life into a world at the peak of the Dark Lord's war, joy that love had created something so small and pure… A mix of emotions, but Sirius had had time to process this, could discuss possibilities with his best friends, could worry and panic and get excited with his loved ones. Harry had been unexpected but wanted, soon anticipated and celebrated.
There had been no warning of Duo. He was suddenly there, descended from the stars themselves. There were no memories of better times, of years long past; he'd been born and raised in a place as far from Britain as a person could get, untouched by the trials and tribulations that had so scarred Remus, Sirius, and everyone they'd loved. No time to anticipate, no time to process; he came to visit, he was put in danger, he is dangerous, and then he's here.
Sirius was both closely involved and kept remote by the developing relationship between Remus and Duo Maxwell. There were too many secrets on both sides, questions left unasked in fear of tipping the fragile balance between who they were and are. Remus researched the Muggle War and discussed what he found with Sirius; both never asked Duo how he became involved in a war of such a terrifying scale. Duo didn't interfere in Order affairs and read the Daily Prophet; he never asked why the name Sirius Black cropped up so often under suspicion for increases in Dark activity.
They all knew just enough about each other to realize the danger of knowledge.
"This is my childhood home," Sirius said, eyes leaving Duo's pair to trail along the furnishings of his late mother's room. Buckbeak had ruined most of the furnishings, which he was privately very grateful for. "Spent most of my formative years here until I could go to school. My family was really big on learning, especially the things they found to be appropriate for a wizard of my station."
"Things like picking on those with no magic?" Duo's words were lightly-barbed, as they tended to be in situations where he didn't feel in control.
"Things like torturing those with no magic," Sirius corrected. "I learned a lot of spells that could hurt, that could maim and mutilate for no other reason than a desire to cause pain. When my mother thought I needed to learn a lesson, she preferred the hands-on method too. I wasn't as bright as you, though. She had to repeat the lesson a few times to make sure I truly understood it."
It took years for the lessons to be unlearned, to realize that actions had consequences, that people on either end of the wand were affected by what transpired between them. It took a young boy with bespectacled hazel eyes and wild black hair smiling at him, gentle in touch and kind in words for those he loved; it took a pale, gaunt Remus throwing him to the floor, tears of righteous fury that Sirius had nearly made him a murderer; it took one winter night in the middle of his fifth year, James clutching his hand in support as he asked his parents to open up their home to Sirius forever and always.
"The things I learned from my mother were horrible, I'll be the first to admit it," Sirius stated. "But I would be lying to say they weren't useful. I could identify Dark spells and guard against them, I could alleviate the effects on the victims, I could help others think of ways to block or change them into something easier to deal with. I wouldn't have known that without those lessons."
Duo stayed quiet, although his eyes had left Sirius to instead fixate on Buckbeak's silvery wings. He didn't shift nor fidget, and Sirius could see what worried Remus; Duo lacked most of the habits people generally displayed, as if his every move had to be carefully controlled and coordinated.
"It's not fair that we learned those things," Sirius continued, voice quieter. "But better we learned them and survived to help make sure others don't have to learn them too."
Buckbeak made another low warbling sound, a cry for more ferrets. Sirius answered the call, opening the storage chest once more and pulling out two more dead ferrets for the grumbling hippogriff. Instead of tossing them again, Sirius moved back over to Duo, proffering one ferret carcass to the boy.
"Go on, give it a try," Sirius said.
Duo stared at him, then – with a darted glance in Buckbeak's direction – took the carcass in tentative hands. Sirius turned, taking a step ahead of the braided youth, the other ferret held in hand. "He doesn't bite those he likes," he told Duo. "Just hold it out by the tail."
Sirius led by example, holding the ferret up. Buckbeak's head swiveled in his direction before he stood on his legs, his eagle-like talons clicking against the hardwood floor as his hooved hind legs clopped loudly in echo. Standing upright at his full height, he was taller than Sirius but essentially towered over the petite Duo.
With a playful gait, Buckbeak took a couple steps forward and then swiped the ferret from Sirius's hand with a swift chomp of his beak, swallowing it in two gulps. Sirius didn't turn around to see Duo's reaction, but after a breath, Duo was at his side. He was watching Buckbeak paw at the ground, talons leaving scratches against the wooden flooring.
Sirius could not claim to understand Duo Maxwell. An upbringing in the star islands, involvement in a war of a scale and intensity left largely unknown by most wizardingfolk, a history mapped out in scars on a body too young to bear them – and then both Remus and Sirius, too cautious, or wary, or afraid to ask the questions they wanted answers to the most.
But reciprocity was a foundation in all human interactions, regardless of earth-born or star-born. Not one secret for another – but one admittance for another. He may not be able to demand answers to the questions that kept Duo so on edge, but Sirius could offer himself, offer the bits of his motivations and experiences that he felt he could share with Remus's son.
"I didn't kill those 12 muggles," Sirius said.
Just as instructed, Duo reached out, one hand holding the ferret carcass by the tail. It swung lightly in his grasp, stiff and cold with death. Buckbeak pawed once more at the ground before once again clamping his beaked mouth around it. Unlike his playful interaction with Sirius, however, Buckbeak moved almost gently – as if wary of worrying the boy with too sudden a movement.
Duo watched the ferret disappear into the hippogriff's maw. He kept steadfast eyes on the content creature and off Sirius.
"I killed a lot of people," Duo said.
Une enjoyed her job.
Being director of the largest authority of intergalactic safety and regulations was highly stressful and very dangerous, and there wasn't a night that passed that she didn't think about the people who had died for the peace that her agents worked so hard to maintain. Sleepless nights and exhausting days, but each moment spent was another building block in the promise of peace the man she loved had died to achieve.
So Une remembered her ghosts and their influence, kept them close to her heart as she worked and delegated and spoke. She was just as careful to not allow them to overshadow her though; the dead were dead, and it was the living that needed her focus and attention. Treize may have guided her principles, the war may have hardened her resolve – but it was the peace they'd all fought for that became her goal.
It was peace that brought her into close relationships, some surprising and some not. It was Lucrezia Noin and Sally Po that had helped her build Preventers from the ground up, it was Relena Darlian that had secured ESUN's good will; but it was Dorothy Catalonia's careful machinations that quieted the discontent, the combined tactical and strategic brilliance of Quatre Winner and Chang Wufei that helped Preventers strength flourish and allowed it to fold in the raw talents of Heero Yuy and Zechs Merquise, pull in the ever-transient likes of Duo Maxwell and Trowa Barton.
For the most part, Preventers acted as any other government organization, operating under strict rules and regulations across all departments. The introduction of the magical world had caused ripples, but not enough to shake the foundations, and soon enough Preventers had created a new department and slotted in appropriate personnel to deal with this new sphere of life. Adaptability was an important skill to have as a Preventers agent, and Une had it in spades.
This is why she doesn't do much more than sigh as four former terrorists report the possible abduction of Duo Maxwell by British wizards to her at eight in the morning.
"Do you realize how many laws you've broken just for a possible abduction?" Une asked.
Winner's earnest expression never wavered. Une wondered if he practiced that in the mirror because it was damn near infallible. "More than possible," he asserted. "His last known whereabouts were at an active crime scene, and follow-up investigation shows the trail went cold shortly after. It's also been confirmed that there was a violent altercation at the scene by outside authority."
Une internally translated that to 'Winner asked Agent Echo really nicely to check out something suspicious off the record and their suspicions were confirmed,' and 'Yuy and Chang asked local authorities not-so-nicely about Maxwell's last known location and why they didn't do a follow-up on it.' Which explained the phone call the Preventers branch in Yorkshire had received from a terrified local police force after two Preventers agents claimed authority over their missing persons case.
Une prided herself on her ability to keep abreast of the exploits of her agents, especially the ones who spent a good chunk of their adolescence piloting literal war machines. It's why she was keeping such a careful eye on Magical Britain, even going so far as to send Sally to handle matters personally to ensure Preventers was able to solidly plant a watcher in its government.
Still, she had a job to impress upon her agents that their behavior wasn't always going to be approved, and play the straight man to their antics.
"You broke into a house," Une stated dryly.
"We were merely paying a visit and heard sounds of possible distress," Barton corrected blandly.
Une raised an eyebrow. "From an, as you later observed, empty cottage?"
"It turned out to be a stray cat," Barton replied. A kitten's head poked out of the top of his Preventers jacket, reptilian eyes peering at Une before the head disappeared back down into Barton's collar.
Une paused, closed her eyes, counted to ten then counted it backwards. She opened her eyes to otherwise impassive faces, aside from Winner, who had shifted from earnest to concerned – concerned for her, of course.
"And you knew about Maxwell's FRA results…how?" she persisted.
Yuy's cool look was vaguely judgmental, as if she should already know. She swallowed the urge to throttle him and explain that she wasn't on the same weird wavelength the five Gundam Pilots shared. "I checked his mail," he answered shortly.
"It's illegal to open someone else's mail, Agent Zero-One," Une said in the same tone.
"Maxwell is free to press charges," Chang interrupted. "Once he is returned."
Une knew she should not be surprised. After Maxwell had stormed into her office months ago to request sabbatical leave, it was only a matter of time before whatever issue had cropped up between the five volatile young men reached fruition. She had thought the discovery of Newtypes would have suckered the God of Death back into their orbit, but Yuy had impressed upon them the importance of allowing Maxwell to have time to himself.
So if Maxwell really had been abducted by British wizards… Une was honestly surprised that only a handful of local police officers had been terrorized, rather than an entire state.
"A case file needs to be made," Une said after a long moment. The tension in the air settled into something much more breathable. "And you'll have to have Agent Echo verify the findings - on the books this time."
Winner nodded agreeably.
"This case really should be given to someone not personally invested," Une stated. "But I am fully aware that if I do so, you're just going to go over my head or use some underhanded means that would be better put to use into actually finding Maxwell."
No response from the peanut gallery in front of her desk, but Une readily took the silence as implicit agreement.
"And I am also certain that if Maxwell is fine and is just playing high-stakes hide-and-seek, then only you lot would be able to find him to verify that as well," she concluded. "So the case is yours."
She half-expected them to salute her, but they only gave short nods of acceptance, understanding the agreement and subsequent dismissal in her words. They rose to leave, and Une's eyes caught on the eerie sight of a mangled kitten claw playfully pawing at the bottom of Barton's ear.
"And for gods sakes, Barton, either register your cat as a familiar or conceal it better!"
"Duo."
Duo looked up from 'The Essential Defense Against the Dark Arts', his half-made doodle of a Red Cap wearing an OZ uniform left unfinished as he turned his attention to Lupin. The older male was stood in the doorway of the parlor where Duo had taken refuge as the Order held another of their meetings in the Grimmauld Place kitchen.
"Kingsley finished-" Lupin paused, clearly trying to search for a nicer way to phrase 'inspecting your belongings'. "…He finished with your clothes. They're in the kitchen."
Duo jumped to his feet, flashing Lupin a grin to show that he wasn't bothered by it. "Finally! I thought he was going to keep them as souvenirs of our first meeting or something," Duo replied glibly, following Lupin back down the steps.
"I think the memory of that first meeting was enough," was Lupin's dry reply.
Duo sniggered as they entered the kitchen. Most of the Order had cleared out by now, as was usually the case; Tonks and Black were involved in a conversation at one end of the dining table, glancing up as Duo breached the doorway. Tonks gave a little wave in greeting and Black a smile, before they resumed their discussion once more. Kingsley Shacklebolt was poring over a sheaf of parchment paper, brows furrowed as he continued to read what Duo theorized was part of his mission briefing. (He'd seen that kind of look often enough on some of the others, god knows.) Mundungus Fletcher was at the other end of the long dining table, stood before the cabinet of fancy dishware and eyeing it contemplatively.
Duo had met 12 members of the Order of the Phoenix. There were the original five members that had been sent to retrieve Duo from the Ironworkers Barn Guest Houses: Lupin, Moody, Shacklebolt, Tonks, Vance. Then Black and Dumbledore, then the odd member here and there: Dedalus Diggle, Elphias Doge, S-something Podmore, Hestia Jones, and Fletcher. There were more, but Duo had not personally seen them – they were teachers at Dumbledore's school, and there was also that family that sent warm pastries via owls.
Duo had not gone out of his way to find out more. His observations alone had yielded enough information about the small resistance group, and from what he'd learned from Albus Dumbledore that first day in their headquarters, Duo could puzzle out mostly how they worked: orders came from the top-down, either given en masse during meetings or individually with more subtle methods. When possible, members gave personal reports either in person or in paper, delivered to Grimmauld Place (and thus through Lupin or Black), and these were forwarded to Dumbledore and discussed between members at meetings.
Although some discussions carried on after the meeting officially ended, Duo doubted these were of highly-classified information. The members felt comfortable enough to talk even with Duo's peripheral presence, either because they doubted his ability to understand given his non-magic upbringing or trusted enough in Dumbledore's judgment that they didn't see Duo as a possible threat to the secrecy. That, or Duo was just an honorary member now, courtesy of being blood-related to Remus Lupin.
"Oh, Molly sent over some pie," Lupin said, moving in the direction of the kitchen counter area, where the supposed food was being kept under more preservation charms. "Let me get you some."
Duo didn't bother stopping him. Lupin seemed intent on feeding him whenever Duo stepped foot in the kitchen, like he could undo years' worth of early childhood malnutrition if he just kept shoving food down Duo's throat.
Instead, Duo made his way over to where Shacklebolt had placed his priest's garb at the end of the dining table. It had been explained that they were checking for any enchantments or lasting damage, either from Duo's end or undetected Dark spells from the men Duo had killed that night. Duo knew they were still trying to figure out how he'd been able to resist their Stunning charms, but even Duo didn't know how he'd done it. Anyone's best guess was that he was either an undetected Newtype or a wizard whose magic had finally developed after he returned to the Earth Sphere. They were leaning to the first option, given Duo's propensity to destroying wands when he used them.
Newtype magic differed from earth wizard magic, although Lupin and the others were not able to explain in what ways, given their own limited knowledge regarding Newtypes. It had been noticed by the wizards that interacted with Newtypes that the space-faring folk did not use wands, or any other intermediary. This wasn't that unusual, as Ugandan witches and wizards were common practitioners of wandless magic, but they could choose to use wands if desired. There was also the distinction that Newtypes could use magic in space, and though Duo could say he'd never cast a spell while outside of the Earth Sphere, apparently it was common for magical youth to experience accidental magic.
Duo always had been able to get into places he shouldn't, but he thought that had been a combination of skill and luck – but it looked like there might be a magical element to it as well. It was probably a good thing G had never learned about the existence of magic; Duo could only imagine combining that terrible genius with the weaponry that had reduced millions of lives to ash.
Duo sifted through his clothes absently. His undershirt was gone – apparently it had been too damaged and stained that they'd done away with it. The clerical shirt and black trousers felt soft under his hands, meaning they'd been cleaned so that they did not stiffen with the blood from his assailants. The priest collar sat pristine to the side of the clothes pile, clean and undisturbed. His black combat boots were on the floor, laces done up neatly.
Duo pawed through them once again, just to be sure. A small frown had settled on his lips as the pockets turned up empty.
"We confiscated your weapons," Shacklebolt's voice came from across the room. He wasn't as paranoid as Moody or as wary as Vance, but it was clear he didn't buy into the idea that Duo was not a threat because of his age or lack of wand. "You don't need them here."
Duo, who was very capable of using even the most innocuous of household items as a weapon, just shrugged that off. Catherine would forgive him for losing the weapons, given the circumstances.
"That's cool but," he said, turning a curious glance Shacklebolt's way. Tonks and Black were also looking in Duo's direction, Fletcher was moving slowly in the direction of the door looking uncomfortable, and even Lupin had paused in his endeavor of slicing into a meat pie to pay attention to the conversation. "Where's my cross?"
Shacklebolt's placid expression furrowed into confusion. "Your...? It should be there," he said, rising from his seat at the end of the table to move in Duo's direction.
Duo held his black clerical shirt in one hand and his trousers in the other, lightly shaking them in a show to display their lack of contents. Shacklebolt continued moving closer with a mildly confused expression, but Duo's eyes caught on the lightly-stepping form of Fletcher, both instinct and intuition working in equal measure to grant Duo their best guess at what had happened to his cross.
It wasn't the original cross he'd gotten from the Maxwell Church – that had been lost ages ago, in the warzone that had been his home colony prior to him sneaking onto that Sweepers ship and meeting Professor G. The same could be said for the priest collar and the clerical shirt; all were accessible commodities, easily given or sold by shops across the Earth Sphere and colonies.
Duo could easily replace any one of them, and had done so several times throughout the war. It was just something he hadn't done since the official end of the war, and he'd hoped that this would be his last set, and he could lay his ghosts to rest. It was… aggravating, to discover the cross had been taken. It wasn't each individual item that held meaning for Duo, but rather them as a whole: the last homage to his last home.
"Fletcher," Black interjected in a warning tone. "Where are you going to so quickly?"
That was enough for the rest of the occupants in the kitchen to clue in, and all attention turned to the man a mere few steps away from the only exit. Fletcher noticeably stifled a cringe at Black's call, though he half-turned with his hands shoved in his pockets and managed a harried expression that didn't look too ingenuine.
"I 'spect I hav'ta go resume my post," Fletcher grunted out unconvincingly. "Potter ain't gonna watch himself, is he?"
"Ri-ight," Duo drawled. "You can do fuck all, I don't care what, after you give me back my cross, man."
Why would the man even steal it? It wasn't silver or made from some precious material; it was stainless steel and wasn't worth more than 20 credits. And, as it had been intended to be returned to Duo, they clearly hadn't found anything strange or magical about it.
"I don' have it," Fletcher retorted defensively. "Maybe you dropped it under the table."
Duo's expression dropped into static, annoyance surging. "Do you think I'm an idiot? Just give me my damn cross, asshole," he snapped.
Fletcher sneered, taking a sudden step forward as if he could intimidate Duo into compliance. "I-"
That was all Fletcher got out before he was lifted to his tiptoes and smashed back against the wall. It was more stunning than painful, the hit only knocking the breath out of him, but he seemed partially pinned in place; his arms were held slightly aloft at his sides, feet solid on the ground but unmoving.
Fletcher blinked, mildly dazed, but it was obvious where the sudden attack had come from: one Remus Lupin, wand drawn and pointed in Fletcher's direction. His expression was calm but there was something about his countenance that was anything but, 'dangerous' blaring loudly like an alarm in the back of Duo's mind.
"Return his cross," Lupin stated, voice calm and measured.
Fletcher's mouth opened but no sound emerged, and he shut it with a click and terrified expression. It took another moment before Fletcher finally nodded in assent, and Lupin withdrew the charm keeping him silent and still.
The shaken wizard started to rifle through his pockets. He would have been faster about it had he not been so clearly rattled, but Duo would be hard-pressed to feel sorry for the guy, especially as he began to pull out various knick-knacks stashed in his seemingly endless pockets.
"Feel free to punch him, kid," Black said with a lazy wave of the hand.
"Sirius," Shacklebolt warned tiredly.
"Just one hit, maybe it will help keep Dung on the straight and narrow."
Fletcher paused and turned a baleful gaze on the escaped convict. "I don't want ta hear that sort of thing from you, Black!"
"The cross, Fletcher," Lupin stated again, in a way that suggested this was the last warning before Fletcher found himself becoming another morbid decoration in the Black family home.
Fletcher paled and resumed going through his pockets, finally pulling out a tangled handful of necklace chains with an assortment of adornments in the mass. He dropped them atop the kitchen table quickly, an almost mocking flourish to the movement as he gestured to the gleaming silver cross among the many pendants.
"Why'd you even want it anyway? It's just stainless steel," Duo grumbled, walking over.
Fletcher gave a disdainful sniff but quickly aborted it as Lupin moved around the table and closer to the twitchy wizard. "Yer a Newtype, aint'cha? Could've sold it as a Newtype gimmick," he explained in a mutter.
"Seriously, Dung, that's just awful," Tonks spoke up.
"One punch," Black said again.
Lupin looked to be honestly considering it, which had Shacklebolt also moving closer – either to step in or to heal the damage once Lupin was done. Duo didn't really understand why Lupin was so bent out of shape over the theft, but he guessed it didn't exactly generate trust between them if one of their own members was stealing.
Duo picked up the cross, the chain of which was tangled among a few others in the bunch on the table. He worked at the interlocked necklace chains, pulling some of the thinner ones out first before he was left with the heavier ones. Sometimes they seemed to buzz lightly under his fingertips, a not entirely unusual occurrence; magically-enhanced items reacted strangely to his touch at times.
"Are you stealing cutlery too?" Black asked. There was a pregnant pause, then numerous disgusted sighs at the silent but obvious answer.
Aside from the polished gleam of Duo's cross, the others looked mildly tarnished, the worst of which was a golden necklace with a red stone pendant dangling at the end. There was another golden chain, this one with a locket of heavy gold, a serpentine S in glittering green stone inlaid on the face. Duo's fingers worked deftly at the knot keeping them together. He ignored the buzzing once again, pulling at the gold chains keeping his cross hostage.
"You don't even like this place," Fletcher justified. "Think of it as…funding."
The buzzing increased, and whatever Lupin had been heating up was clearly starting to become overdone, the smoky smell of burning food beginning to fill the kitchen area. Duo's nose twitched but he kept working at the chain, knowing the others were more than capable of dealing with a burnt meal and blustering thief.
"Funding that goes straight to your coin purse?" came Black's dry retort.
Duo tugged at the silver chain of his cross, pulling an extra inch free from the tangle. How did Fletcher even manage to get them so bundled up? Duo was gritting his teeth, irritation flaring – first Fletcher tried to take his cross, then he got it all tangled up, and now no one was taking care of the burning food? The back of his throat was starting to itch at the acrid smell, but they were still squabbling over Fletcher's lack of moral standards.
"Duo…"
"Yeah?" Duo asked, not looking up at the woman's voice. The others' talk quieted, but Tonks did not continue. Duo looked up, scowling. He was busy, so why couldn't Tonks just get on with it?
It was then he realized that the others were looking at him questioningly, as if he'd been the one to suddenly call for attention.
"I'm glad… you're safe…"
Duo stilled. Tonks was not speaking, she was looking at Duo, mouth shut, expression curious but complacent.
"Don't make us worry like that…"
The smell of smoke suffocated the kitchen, but it wasn't the burnt smell of an overdone meat pie – this smell was familiar in a different way to Duo, back when his feet crept over rubble and ash and human remains.
"Father was… worried about you… Even to the end…"
It was as if his flesh was being torn in lightning-quick scraps from his very bones. His blood turned to molten fire, then liquid ice, then back to fire in quick successions; there was a howling in his ears, unrecognizable screams as sound and light and sparks crashed together in an incomprehensible cacophony.
"Duo… May you.. have God's… blessing…"
Violet eyes widened in recognition, and then all he saw was Lupin's own horrified expression before searing hot pain tore up through his very being.
Duo felt the unseen fingers of Sister Helen as they traced the round of his cheek, just as the world stopped and darkness descended.
"An official Preventers summons has been sent to Remus Lupin's residence," Wufei summarized, chin rested against his steepled fingers. Documents and photos littered the coffee table between them, information about everything from Lupin's financial records to last known sightings of Duo stamped across the numerous pages. "But he has yet to return."
The knife they'd found at the Ironworkers' Guesthouse had been clean, devoid of DNA traces, the only fingerprints left on the handle belonging to the missing Gundam pilot. That in itself was suspicious; if the blade had been cleaned, it should be wiped of all traces, but it was as if Duo had dropped it into the kitchen drawer himself.
But magic users didn't need to touch something to handle it.
"Has it been confirmed that Lupin is a terran magic user?" Trowa asked. He was seated on the couch, one leg crossed so that he could balance his laptop across it.
Quatre, inspecting a congratulatory picture of Duo posed with Remus Lupin at an adventure trail course, glanced at his lover. "It hasn't been ruled out, but we won't know for certain until Lupin comes in for questioning," he answered.
Remus Lupin was the key for their investigation to move forward. This was proving vexing on numerous fronts, as Lupin had not been seen since Duo had gone missing. It was entirely possible that whoever had captured Duo had also caught Lupin, but it was hard to gauge who the target had been; was Duo simply caught in the crossfire of a terran wizarding conflict? Or was it Lupin that got caught in the middle of someone wanting a Gundam pilot or Newtype?
They were favoring the former option, given the involvement of magic. Outside of a select few, no one should know about Duo's role as a Gundam pilot or as a Newtype. Those who knew Duo as the pilot of Deathscythe would be known by the pilot in turn, and as it had been exemplified to Preventers in several encounters, terran magic users were left largely ignorant of what they deemed as 'muggle affairs', including the Eve Wars.
If terrorist activity was on the rise in magical Britain, involving Lupin and with Duo caught in the crossfire, it was possible both were in danger. Given the government of magical Britain was not recognizing, either officially or unofficially, the possibility of such danger, then they could not be relied on to provide accurate intel, much less aide.
They had toyed with the idea of issuing a formal summons request to the British Ministry of Magic, who could then forward it to Remus Lupin using their own means. However, this would reveal several things to possibly dangerous parties: that Preventers believed there was an ominous connection between Lupin and Duo, that they thought Lupin may have been involved in an altercation that was covered up through magical means, and that someone was on the look out for both the missing Duo and absent Lupin.
They had to weigh the potential reactions such an action would yield. While maintaining a purely muggle interest and method was slower, it meant the risk of escalation was lower. If they pushed too hard and revealed too much of their hand, and if Duo was truly just collateral in an exchange between British wizards, then they may just get rid of him rather than risk keeping him alive. At the very least, as things currently stood – Duo was still alive.
They needed to find Lupin and gauge what happened and just how involved Duo's blood relation was in the braided boy's disappearance. If Lupin could be found, then at least that gave them a lead; if Lupin was also captured, then concentrating on finding traces of him would aide in their search.
"A notice has been sent to all ESUN-based Preventers branches, so all field agents will have a copy," Wufei stated. "It was with limited information: no mention of Lupin's possible terran magic use."
Heero nodded. They would hold off on a public release, wary of escalation, but at least all Preventers agents across the Earth Sphere would keep an eye out for Lupin. "Agent Echo is enroute to Ironworkers," he said. They would expect a report from the Level Two Newtype within the next 24 hours, but if magic had been used to clean the cottage, then it was possible they would not be able to give much more information than already provided previously.
Trowa set his laptop down atop the coffee table, standing with a slow stretch. He picked up Heero's and Wufei's empty mugs, a silent indication he was going to get them refilled. "Well, it is Duo," he began smoothly, heading towards the kitchen. "If we take too long, maybe they'll just give him back."
"He makes an awful prisoner," Wufei agreed. "Too many crude jokes."
"His hair always clogs the shower drain too," Heero added.
Quatre's small smile widened as he picked up his cup of tea. "But he's very easy on the eyes," he countered playfully.
"Like you have credible tastes, you're dating a clown."
"Watch it, Chang!" Trowa intoned from the kitchen.
Heero snorted, sifting through the photos once more, eyes scouring over each glimpse of Duo's face he caught across their glossy surfaces. "You're dating your job, so I hardly think your tastes count either," he pointed out.
"Are you talking to me or Winner?" Wufei muttered.
Trowa emerged from the kitchen, managing to balance three mugs with one hand. "Maybe we can get them to exchange Duo for Wufei-"
Porcelain shattered against the tile flooring. Their attention snapped to Quatre, head fallen forward, one hand grasping the front of his shirt in a punishing grip. His breath was no longer even, instead gasping as if he were in pain, but no markers of physical injury were present.
Heero felt the blood rush in his ears. Trowa was beside his lover in two quick strides, steaming mugs of coffee set on the table so that he could clasp a supportive hand to the blonde's shoulder. "Breathe, love," he was murmuring.
Quatre's grip never loosened but his head raised up a fraction so that they could see his wide, unseeing eyes. "I… I can't feel him," he gasped out, the very words torn from some deep, dark place inside so that even tears could not come. "I can't feel him."
They all understood, in that moment.
Quatre's heart never lied.
Summer had turned hot and humid, drowning Little Whinging in a heat wave that kept most of the vacationing children indoors. It had turned the streets empty aside from passers-by or chore-runners, which gave one Harry Potter the freedom to move about the flowerbeds around the Dursley home without incident or suspicion.
Harry hadn't wanted to spend his summer going scavenging through trash bins for newspapers and listening in on televised news reports, scouring for any possible information about the recently revived Dark Lord. The muggle news may not be able to identify magical activity, but an unexplained disappearance or strange accident… These had the possibility of being some small clue of Voldemort's movements.
But it was incredibly hard to hear anything relevant to his interests. National news programs were concentrated on post-war activities and achievements, talking about different federal agencies (Preventers?) or newly released statistics about the recently concluded war.
Little Whinging, Surrey, had felt completely disconnected from the war; Harry's aunt and uncle hardly ever mentioned it, aside from Uncle Vernon's occasional complaint about how certain industries or incidents affected his drilling business.
If there had been strange incidents, they didn't register as significant enough to warrant a mention on the national programs. Harry had held more hope for local news programs, but nothing of importance happened in Surrey – the most notable story being the baggage handlers' strike, followed by reports of a drought in the Southeast.
The opening notes of the five o'clock news sounded through the open living room window, reaching Harry's ears from where he lay in the flowerbed.
"This is a special public announcement from Preventers," came the modulated, disembodied voice of the newscaster. "Preventers need your help tracking down 35-year-old Remus Lupin, pictured on screen-"
Harry had hardly waited for the rest of the words, surging to his feet and practically climbing through the window. He ignored Uncle Vernon's startled squawk at his sudden appearance, green eyes fastened to the television screen.
"Preventers say Lupin is about 6'2", 170 lbs., and has several light facial scars. If you can help authorities find him, please contact local authorities or any Preventers branch-"
Sure enough, it was Professor Lupin's picture staring back from the muggle news report. It looked like it had been cropped out from a theme park souvenir photograph, the colorful background standing at odds with Lupin's pale, scarred face.
"Preventers notes that Lupin is a person of interest, and is wanted for questioning in an ongoing missing persons case…"
A/N: Guess who is ?
-Warning sign that you're pushing Duo: he drops into more colloquial language.
Notes on Sirius Black
-this came up in a comment, and I plan to address it more later, but as for Sirius's notoriety – basically, he's just not that well-known to Preventers or the rest of the GW group. His publicized escape essentially happened during the war, and a man that killed 13 people 12 years ago just didn't rank that high in importance on the global or galactic scale with a war raging. The only reason Duo recognizes him this chapter is because he's been researching the British wizarding world via The Daily Prophet, which foists a lot of blame onto Sirius for otherwise suspicious incidents. To Preventers, Sirius Black just isn't that important; he's been escaped for almost two years at this point, nothing is publicly known about his personal relationship with Remus Lupin, and there have been no large scale attacks in that time or at present.
Please be kind and drop a comment and kudos! :)
