A/N: A short chapter, maybe, but tantalizing for things to come! (evil laughter)

The Other Side

The new neighborhood the Dursleys had moved to was decidedly high end. Even with the funds Dumbledore had given Arabella, it had taken time to find a house in the vicinity. Then even more time to sell and move her things. She'd made it a priority to drive by and spend a day in the nearest park with the hopes of catching a glimpse of her charge, but it had been six months since she'd actually seen him.

Big purse in hand, full of cookies to give to the boys, Arabella walked down the wide sidewalk, enjoying the end of winter. The few trees on the street were beginning to bud. The snow glistened and sparkled as it melted away. The sounds of the city and families inside their warm homes created a dull murmur in the background. It was beautiful. This was by far the best neighborhood she'd ever lived in. It was like a dream come true.

The Dursley house stood at the end. Two stories tall, it was an old brick building with white pillars framing a red front door. A winter wreath hung there, and Arabella practically skipped up the steps to ring the doorbell. The sound of little girls screeching reached her ears. Maybe they were having a house party?

The door opened revealing a beautiful African woman wearing a dress and apron. Her thick lips pulled into a cheerful smile. "Yes? May I help you?"

"Oh!" Arabella backed a step and pushed her glasses up her nose. "I'm sorry! I must have the wrong house. I'm looking for the Dursleys."

The woman's expression fell. "Were you a friend of theirs?"

"Well, yes. I lived in their old neighborhood and was often called upon to babysit. I just moved in recently and thought I'd renew our acquaintance."

"I'm sorry, but they don't live here anymore." The woman lowered her eyes in sorrow. "They both passed on, but I believe their son moved into an aunt's house."

"Oh dear!" Arabella clutched her purse, feeling the blood drain from her face. "How terrible! What happened?"

The woman looked decidedly uncomfortable, but she caved to Arabella's obvious distress. "I believe Mr. Dursley got into some trouble with the law. He was arrested five months or so ago. His wife died during the arrest, they say. She must have gone mad when she realized what her husband had done." The woman glanced inside, worry in her expression. "I don't think they lived here long. Just a year. I hope we can make better memories here."

"Of course," Arabella agreed. "Thank you so much for informing me."

xXxXxXx

Evergreen Cottage, Albus' inherited home, was in utter chaos. Old newspapers were spread out on the large dining room table, their message disastrous. The Dursleys were dead. Harry had vanished. Vernon Dursley's crimes were unstated except for speculation that he'd been involved with Muggle terrorists.

"He should have stayed with us!" Molly wailed, eyes bright with furious tears. Her husband sat silently at her side with a grave expression.

"Ha! You couldn't have protected him!" Moody barked. "The whole of the Wizarding world would have descended on you and your children. What would that have accomplished, woman?"

"And you would have done better?" she demanded hotly. "You would have hidden him away and trained him as some sort of, of, child soldier!"

"Those Dursleys were the worst, Dumbledore. I warned you!" Minerva snapped, highly agitated. "You should have put a better watch on him than this."

"Especially more than a single scatterbrained Squib," Severus hissed venomously.

Arabella Figg flinched and began to sob into her handkerchief.

"Was it even as they say?" Filius asked quietly. "It could have been Death Eaters who modified the Muggle's memories."

"Why would Death Eaters stop to modify memories?" Emmeline snapped. She shoved a paper away from her in disgust.

"It's likely as they say," Remus spoke up tiredly, a single voice of reason. "Death Eaters wouldn't have left the Dursley boy alive."

"I hope he's all right," Molly whispered, looking up at her husband. They had seven children. The two youngest were around Harry's age.

"I'm sure he's fine," Arthur said as he pulled her closer.

Albus Dumbledore, leader of the Light, looked around the table at the fifty odd people gathered there. They were all that was left of the Order of the Phoenix. They were all painfully aware that the Dark hadn't been defeated. It had only been pushed back that fateful All Hallows Eve. And now the Chosen Child was missing. Albus feared that without the precious child to guide and empower them, the future was doomed.

The room fell silent as he stood. "Mistakes have been made. It is essential that we move forward carefully. We cannot afford any more missteps. Severus, Moody, I want you to track down the Dursley child. Harry might be with them despite it not being mentioned in the articles. Arabella, you and Remus will go around to the neighbors and uncover the gossip about this incident." Albus looked over his half-moon glasses at the ill man. "You will do what is necessary to discover the truth among the exaggerations."

Remus nodded, expression unyielding.

"Fletcher," Albus continued, looking toward the scruffy man leaning against the wall. "I want to know more about these terrorists. Find me anything you can."

"Aye," the man slurred and slunk out of the room without further ado.

"I will contact my people in the Ministry. See if I can't get anything out of the Muggle Minister about this." Albus looked around the table at all of them. "We need to prepare. Stock up on essential potions, get rest, don't rundown your magic."

There were nods and a few verbal agreements.

"Very well. Dismissed."

xXxXxXx

Finding one Marge Dursley, guardian of Dudley Dursley, had hardly been a challenge. Not for men of Severus and Moody's skill. It took about two days. Two days where Severus, an ex-Death Eater, had had to work in close contact with the most paranoid ex-Auror in existence. Neither of them had been able to sleep, too busy keeping both eyes on each other. Moody examined every potion and scrutinized every spell Severus cast. It was like being followed by a mad dog, where at any moment the beast would forget why it wasn't pouncing on its prey.

Severus would have poisoned the bastard if he'd thought for a moment he could get away with it. Needless to say, he was highly on edge when they descended on the Muggle's odiferous hovel. The only good point was the fact they found the thing passing as a woman home alone.

He flashed a vicious smile as Moody secured their prisoner to a kitchen chair. Marge Dursley was grossly obese and wasn't handling the stress well. Her face was a grotesque shade of red/purple, while her gasping breaths and pained expression indicated heart strain. Severus drank in her terror like fine wine, admitting - if only to himself - that perhaps Moody had a few redeeming traits after all. Certainly the majority of the self-righteous Order members would have protested such… aggressive handling.

Severus leaned in close, making sure his face filled her vision. "Hello, Dursley. You're going to show me everything I want to know."

Grasping her chin in his powerful fingers, he bore into her mind with glee. Distorted images, petty emotions, and physical misery assailed his senses. He shoved them away brutally and dragged his metaphysical claws through his victim's brain, willing the information he needed to rise to the surface.

Sadist he was, but he took no joy from what he found in the woman's head. An eternity frozen in a perfect moment, information etched itself upon his mind. Details he'd never be able to forget now, no matter how he might wish it. Severus yanked free of the swamp the bitch called a mind.

Marge Dursley toppled to the tile floor, convulsing and foaming at the mouth. Likely, she now had brain damage. Severus could have spared her most of that damage by a gentler exit. But after what he saw… He watched with a cold smile as she twitched and spasmed like a fish on dry land. His assault would never be discovered. Who would question a woman in Marge's condition suffering a heart attack? The bitch stilled, breathing her last.

"Was that necessary?" Moody growled, his wand leveled at Severus' throat. The old man could tolerate torture for a cause, but murder was unacceptable.

"The information I found is essential. I did the best I could; this couldn't have been avoided," Severus lied coldly, holding the ex-Auror's eyes.

"What did you find?" Moody demanded suspiciously, his fake eye spinning in its socket.

"Enough," Severus answered shortly. He turned and moved toward the front door. "Let's go. We're done here."

Moody stomped after him, his peg leg sounding heavy thumps on the floor.

xXxXxXx

Albus sat behind his desk in his office at the school. Severus stood before him, not quite meeting his eyes. The report Severus had just delivered hung between them. Guilt seared Albus' soul. He'd forsaken the boy in an effort to protect him from revenge-hungry Death Eaters. Perhaps Harry would have fared better with the murderers than he'd been with his so-called family. The thought nearly crushed him.

"You did well by not sharing this information," he finally voiced, clenched hands trembling. "We must keep this secret. Not even Moody can know." He wouldn't allow anyone to use this against the child.

Severus inclined his head, saying nothing.

"Tell me more about this Asian youth," Albus commanded, desperately seeking a distraction from the knowledge of Harry's abuse.

"He looked Chinese and introduced himself as Agent Chang." Severus' brow creased as he frowned. "Considering his age, I would suspect deceit. He hardly looked out of his teens. However, there was something in his bearing that lends credit to his claim. As for him being a possible Dark wizard, there were no Chang Death Eaters that I knew of during the last war."

Albus tugged at his beard worriedly. "And what did he want with Ms. Dursley?"

"He asked about Harry's origins. He questioned her knowledge of his parents and the abuse the boy suffered at her brother's hands."

"Routine questions, perhaps," Albus muttered. Although he wasn't happy about the fact Harry's origins were being scrutinized, it did lend more support to the theory that the youth was a Muggle. A Death Eater would already know about the Potters.

"I find it noteworthy that he did not ask the whereabouts of Mr. Potter. I suspect that was already a known quantity," Severus added.

Albus' frown deepened as he stared hard at his young friend. "You suspect the Muggle government has Harry?"

Severus said nothing, but his expression was eloquent.

Albus sat back in his chair and rubbed at his eyes tiredly. He did not support the isolationists. He felt that the Muggle and Wizarding societies still had things to offer each other, not to mention isolation meant ignoring or executing Muggleborns, but he wasn't a blind fool. Muggle technology was a danger. The days of dissections and witch burnings were long ago, but Albus was aware it wouldn't take much to bring the return of such horrors.

Every Wizarding enclave around the world worked hard to keep the Muggle's ignorant of their existence. Some, like the Japanese magic users, had cut themselves off completely from the rest of the world. The Dark Lord's push for the same was what had attracted many of his followers. Albus could only hope Harry wasn't suffering in some lab somewhere. He feared he might just convert to the Dark side if that was Harry's fate after all the boy had given and all he'd suffered.

"We must find him," Albus whispered desperately, covering his face.

Severus shifted. "Has there been no progress in locating him?"

Albus shook his head sadly. He let his hand fall as he looked across at his friend. "Nothing. Remus and Arabella reported that the neighbors had never once seen Harry outside." He sighed and looked toward his phoenix whose head was lowered in sorrow. "I've tried every ritual I could. Magic cannot find him. He is not on this Earth."

"Is he dead?" Severus demanded. He took a step forward, his dark eyes burning with an emotion Albus could not name.

"I think not," he answered firmly. "Though I admit there is no way to tell for certain at this point, I am still confident we will see Mr. Potter again." Albus couldn't bear it otherwise. What kind of world did he live in that an innocent child would be required to give up his parents only to be forced to endure the most vile of all abuses by the only family he had left? What fate would then lead that abused, lost child into the hands of Muggle scientists to be tormented and tortured further?

Severus sneered. "And if we don't?"

He closed his eyes, his heart heavy with despair. "Two were marked by prophecy. We will have to hope we read it wrong and that it is Neville who has been Chosen."

"Giving up on Potter already?"

Fury flashed up in Albus. He leapt to his feet, magic crackling dangerously around him and causing the room to shake. "I will never stop looking, Severus! Never. Now go. You have students to prepare for. The new term starts tomorrow."

Severus, pale-faced, spun on his heel and stalked from the room.

Albus fell back into his chair. The knickknacks and instruments stilling as his magic faded away. Softly, Fawkes began to sing, but not even that could stop the tears that soaked his face. "Oh, Harry. My boy. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

xXxXxXx

"Come in," Minerva called, unwilling to get up from her spot in front of the fire.

Her old friend and fellow teacher stepped into her sitting room, shutting the door behind him. "Any news?"

Minerva sighed and set down her tea cup to prepare one for him. "No. Albus cannot find him, and his contacts with the Ministry insist the officials in Muggle England do not know the location of Mr. Potter."

Filius took the seat across from her. He had to hop a bit to get onto the seat and his shot legs dangled several inches off the ground. She could only see his shoulders over the table, but his ancient face was filled with warm compassion and concern. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"We failed him, Filius," she confessed softly. "We failed James and Lily."

He reached far over to gently touch the back of her hand. "I'm certain we will see Mr. Potter again."

Minerva clasped the dwarf's hand in her own. "I hope you're right, Filius. I really do."

xXxXxXx

Augusta Longbottom stood silently in the doorway of her grandson's bedroom. The little boy was tubby. Much more so than her Frank had ever been. She didn't recall Alice being overweight, either. Neville was so unlike his parents. It was hard. When she'd been given custody, she'd thought it would let her stay close to her only child. She'd thought she'd be able to see Frank in Neville. But she didn't.

She knew her grandson had picked up on this disappointment. It wasn't fair to him, but it wasn't fair for her, either. Her only child. Lost, and yet not. Every week she went to see Frank and Alice in the hospital, empty shells that their bodies now were. She saw them every week and here was Neville. Their only legacy, alive and healthy, so why couldn't he be all that his parents were? Was it so terrible that she expected more from him?

Her fist clenched around the parchment in her hand. It crinkled loudly. Neville shifted in his sleep, his face scrunching up before smoothing out once more. Dumbledore, the old manipulator, had plans for her Neville. She wasn't about to let the war claim another son, but she was also aware of the futility of fighting fate. She was an old witch, from the old school.

The prophecy was vague, but Dumbledore was right. It did implicate Neville, whose parents had indeed defied the Dark Lord at every opportunity. Neville, who was born at the end of July. She wasn't sure how the boy had been marked as the Dark Lord's equal. Dumbledore believed it referred to the fact Neville was now an orphan, just as the Dark Lord had been. He could be right, and that disturbed Augusta greatly. She would never wish it upon her boy, that he be marked by Fate. Worse, she highly doubted her boy could handle it.

Neville was such a sensitive, timid child. He hadn't even manifested his magic yet, although she was certain it was there. Well, the prophecy didn't predict the Chosen's death. Whoever it was had a chance. Augusta's back straightened as she stared down at the sleeping boy. She would make sure that Neville had that chance.

"Gran…"

Sleepy brown eyes blinked at her through the darkness.

"Go back to sleep," she ordered, voice husky. "We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow."

Neville's eyes closed and he drifted back to sleep.

Augusta smiled grimly. She would prepare this son better than she had the last.

- x X x -

Silence pressed in all around Quatre. It was like being swaddled in heavy cloth. He tossed restlessly, moaning as he groped after sound and life. Tears seared his chilled skin. A gentle hand brushed them away as a deep voice tried to sooth his fear. But Quatre was alone; it was like being touched by a doll or a hallucination. Trapped somewhere cold and dark, he was deaf and weak.

"Not real… you're not real… I'm alone… all alone…"

"Shhh, love. You're not alone. I'm here. You're safe."

Quatre's eyelids felt heavy, his vision blurred. "Tro?"

"Yes. It's me."

Quatre clutched at the strong arms around him. Trowa's skin was warm under his fingertips, his muscles firm. "Can't feel you."

"I know, baby." Trowa pulled him to his chest. "Iria gave you some drug to dampen your empathy."

A sob caught in his throat. "Why? Why would you let her do that?"

"You overloaded, Quatre." His chin was captured and he was forced to meet dark green eyes. "You nearly pushed yourself into a coma where we'd never reach you."

Memories slip-slid back into his awareness. Quatre's eyes widened as adrenaline dumped into his veins. "Harry!"

"He's fine," Trowa soothed, rubbing his back. "That happened nearly a week ago."

His fists clenched in the bed sheets, sweat beading his skin. "Tell me," he demanded through gritted teeth.

"The Terrestrials found one of Harry's 'fans' and hired him to attach himself to the circus. He was told to bring Harry to them when the opportunity arose." The brunet pulled him closer as Quatre began to shake and rested his chin on top of his head.

Quatre let him, not sure he wanted his lover looking into his face right now. The thought of Harry being in the hands of a sicko terrified him.

"Duo heard the scuffle." Quatre could hear a smile in his lover's voice. "He didn't bother with the front entrance. He cut his way straight through the side of the tent. He chased the man and Harry into the park. I arrived shortly after. Duo had the man on the ground and I finished it. Wufei summoned Heero. The attacker was secured in the trunk, Harry in the back. We couldn't get a hold of you. We feared you'd been attacked, so I separated from the group to find you."

Quatre closed his eyes tight, shame tasting like ash on his tongue. "I'm sorry."

He felt Trowa shake his head as his arms tightened around Quatre's body. "No. It was for the best. The terrorists had planted a bomb inside the pedophile's body. They set it off about three blocks from HQ."

Quatre gasped, eyes flying open.

"Heero was the most hurt. Road rash. The terrorists picked them up while they were still disorientated. They put Duo and Wufei into a cage, Harry into another. Heero was secured and tortured. A man, one Simon Caraway, had been the lover of the female we caught and killed. He intended to make Heero pay for that."

"Is he okay?" Quatre demanded weakly. He didn't know how much more he could bear. During all this, he'd been unconscious. His family, his brothers, had been captured and tortured, Harry had been in danger and terrified, and he hadn't been there!

"They burned him," Trowa admitted. "They brought Harry up to watch, as incentive to tell them the codes Dursley taught him. Heero escaped his bonds and rendered Caraway unconscious. Harry used his ability to knock Carraway's partner unconscious as well. They released Duo and Wufei. I was outside on the roof, waiting for a signal. We attacked and got everyone to safety."

Quatre frowned, a sudden detail standing out oddly. "How'd you know where to go?"

Trowa didn't answer immediately, but his hands never stopped running rhythmically up and down Quatre's back.

"Tro?"

"The pedophile kept a thorough journal of his dealings with the terrorists. He feared they would kill him once they got their hands on Harry. He was afraid they'd hurt Harry or even kill him, so he told a friend at the circus to get the journal to us if anything ever happened to him."

Quatre felt ill. The pervert had really thought he loved Harry. Even though, had he gotten his way, he would have forced himself on the child. And now they owed that bastard. It made Quatre feel slimy. That they'd needed that filth's assistance to keep Harry safe.

"Shhh. It's over. Timothy is dead. He'll never get Harry," Trowa murmured into his ear, rocking him.

"Where's Harry?" Quatre had a sudden need to see the little boy, to see that Harry was safe with his own eyes. It had been months since he'd shut his empathy down. Months since he hadn't had Harry buzzing away in the back of his mind. "I want to see him."

"He's sleeping. Wufei's with him," Trowa told him, not as an argument. He'd get Harry if Quatre wished.

Quatre took a deep breath, realized he was still shaking, and shook his head. "Leave him. I'm sure he'd just be upset if he saw me now."

"He'd love to see you," Trowa countered. "We've all been worried. You've been sleeping for six days now."

Quatre winced. He'd really messed up. "I'm sorry," he said again, voice hushed.

"What happened to you?" Trowa asked gently, stroking his hair.

"I… I wanted to monitor Harry, to make sure he was okay. I hadn't even realized my shields had degraded to such a point." Tears began to fall down his face again, and he grimaced. He hated how weak he was right now. Hated how much he still wanted to open his empathy. He felt so blind and isolated without it, even with Trowa pressed against him chest to toes, he still felt cold and alone. "My gift… It connects me to people, to the world. It's a connection that feels… right in a way I can't explain to you. It gets to the point where you just forget to turn it off. It hadn't even occurred to me that I should. It's like forcing yourself into a small, dark box."

They were silent for awhile, Trowa holding him as he struggled to even his breathing and calm his heartbeat.

"Where are Heero and Duo?" he finally asked, breaking the silence.

"Earth. Caraway revealed that the Terrestrials are based in Sweden. They went to shut them down."

"He's injured," Quatre protested.

"Duo's with him," was all Trowa could say to that, and really it did make Quatre feel better. Duo wouldn't let Heero push himself to the point of suicidal recklessness.

"Where are we?" he asked, relaxing.

"Your residential house on L3. Wufei and Harry are sharing a bedroom. Harry doesn't like to be alone, even at night anymore. I'm in here with you, and Heero and Duo will get their own room when they return."

"How is he?" Quatre frowned and pulled back so he could look into Trowa's face. "Has he reverted to his previous state?"

"No." Trowa smiled and gently ran his fingers down Quatre's cheeks. "His mistrust of strangers has increased and he feels insecure alone, but he's actually grown more comfortable and confident with us."

Quatre yawned, exhaustion suddenly hitting him hard. "Don't leave me."

"Never," Trowa whispered as Quatre fell into darkness.

xXxXxXx

It had been eight days since the kidnapping, time passing in a blur. Heero's ears still rang with enraged screams and gunshots. It felt almost surreal to be coming home.

"We're baaaaack!" Duo yelled loudly as they stepped through the front door. He paused dramatically, but there was no response.

Considering how big the Winner mansion was, Heero hadn't expected anything else. He rolled his eyes as the braided pilot crossed his arms and pouted, only to turn at the sound of bare feet running down the hallway. Harry came bursting into the foyer, his dark hair escaping his ponytail to frame his face. His eyes lit up, and he practically tackled Duo to the floor.

"Brother Duo! Brother Heero!"

Duo swung the boy around, almost smacking Heero in the face with Harry's feet. "Hey, there, Harry-chan! I brought you some Swiss chocolate!"

Heero backed away from the pair, shaking his head. "Please take it, Harry. I think Duo has had enough."

"Hey!"

As soon as Harry's feet were on the ground, he flung himself at Heero. Heero winced minutely, as the slender arms came into contact with his still healing wounds.

"Missed you so much," Harry mumbled into his stomach.

Expression softening into a smile, Heero hefted him onto the hip of his uninjured side.

Harry smiled and wrapped his arms around his neck. "Love you," he whispered sweetly.

Heero pressed his cheek to his boy's in answer. "Where are the others?"

"Sitting room," Harry answered with a smile.

Duo bounced ahead of them as they made their way into the house, telling Harry about all the great things they'd seen on Earth. Quatre's L3 estate wasn't as grandiose as some of the other mansions, but it was still ridiculously big. Inevitably, whenever they stayed at a Winner home, they gravitated to the smallest sitting room, making it theirs. They found Wufei and Trowa there. Wufei sat on the couch. The papers scattered across the coffee table showed Harry had been in the middle of a lesson. Trowa sat in an armchair by the door, clearly exhausted.

"He's still not better?" Duo questioned as perched on chair's armrest.

"No." Trowa leaned against Duo's side in greeting. "Iria will take him off the drugs as soon as the craving to immerse himself using empathy decreases. Quatre recovered faster as a child, but that's to be expected. She's not overly concerned."

"The terrorists have been taken into custody," Heero reported, changing the subject. He took the seat next to Wufei, carefully sitting straight so his back didn't touch the backrest. Harry settled happily on his lap, still clinging to him.

"Or dead," Duo added with a wicked grin.

Heero shot him a suppressive look as Harry tensed on his lap. "The codes they wanted would have allowed them to hack into the colony water systems without triggering alarms. Une is in the process of making sure that those codes are obsolete."

"That is excellent news." Wufei shot a considering look toward Duo, who was the one most likely to play decoy and get captured or injured. "And you didn't suffer any more difficulties?"

"Nope. Smooth sailing." Duo flashed him the victory sign with two fingers.

Looking down at the boy on his lap, Heero ran a finger down Harry's nose. "Thank you. You really helped us stop the bad guys. All the people on the colonies, here on L3 and all the others, would have been made severely ill. You did a really good thing."

The little boy flushed a bright red and slowly shook his head. "I, I didn't do anything! I was scared and you got hurt and then you and Duo had to go away and..."

"What did I say?" Wufei demanded, eyes sharp behind his glasses.

Harry ducked his head, letting his hair obscure his expression. "Everyone gets scared, and it's brother Heero's job to stop bad guys. I didn't make it happen."

Duo snapped his fingers and pointed at the little boy with exaggerated seriousness. "You were scared, and what did you do? Did you give up? No. You stayed with us and fought back! That's what bravery is, Harry. Fighting back when you're scared. You're the bravest little boy I know!"

Harry smiled shyly, peeking out at them through his bangs. "Really?"

"Really," Heero confirmed and enjoyed the following blush his words invoked.

Wufei's frown softened into a thoughtful expression. "I think we should consider the possibility of Harry studying the martial arts. I would feel better if he could defend himself."

"I can't!" Harry exclaimed, eyes wide. "I'd never win!"

"What! No way!" Duo leapt to his feet and bent over the table to softly flick Harry on the forehead. "You can do anything if you try hard enough! I mean, we all sucked at first, but we practiced really hard to get so good. You can, too!"

Trowa tugged on the brunet's braid, forcing him to sit again. "Remember how hard gymnastics was in the beginning? But every week it gets easier and you're able to do more things."

"I agree." Heero lifted the little boy's chin so he could look into Harry's bright green eyes. "I think this is something that could help you in the future. Please consider it."

Harry searched Heero's face for a long moment before firming his jaw. "Okay. Who… Who will teach me?"

Duo grinned. "We all will at some point, but Wuffers will probably be best to start you off."

"Maxwell," Wufei snapped, glaring fiercely at the obnoxious pilot. "I know it's hard, but please try to use what little brain you have and remember my name. It's Wufei! Chang Wufei!"

Duo happily ignored him. "So now that Harry's on board, we'll be, like, a superhero family! We can name ourselves…"

Wufei jumped agilely to his feet and brandished his heavy book. "I refuse to bear a name you've chosen!"

The braided pilot grinned manically. "Oh, I'm sorry, did you have a name already picked out, Wu-man-chu?"

"We need no such name!" Wufei protested. Again he was ignored.

"Three cheers for the Chaos Crusaders!"

"MAXWELL!" Wufei bellowed in rage. He threw his missile, but Duo merely slipped off the armrest and danced to the side.

Trowa rolled his eyes at the two while Heero sighed, but he didn't interfere. Duo had weird ways to greet their friends after absences. Teasing Wufei mercilessly was one of them. Besides, Harry was giggling, no matter how he tried to hide it behind his hands. The little boy had come a long way. Just a few weeks ago such a violent display would have made the boy tense and uneasy. Now he seemed to recognize it for the game it was. This was a huge relief, reassuring Heero that the boy wasn't too emotionally damaged by the attack.

"How about the G-boys?"

"Shut up before I kill you!"

"GPI; the Gundam Pilot Invaders!"

"Even if we were to form such a group, you wouldn't be included! No one would work with an asylum escapee like you!"

"Oh, I know! The Ex-Terrorist Club!"

Wufei knocked a chair over as he lunged after the playful teen. Duo cackled madly. Another scream of rage from Wufei preceded the two bolting from the room in a wild chase.

Trowa got up, still shaking his head. "I should check on Quatre."

Heero watched him go, content just to sit and hold Harry.

"Will we go back to the circus?" the little boy asked sleepily after a few moments.

"Possibly," he answered. "We will stay here until Quatre is fully recovered."

Harry nodded. "I hope he gets better soon."

Heero rubbed his back, hoping to reassure him. "His sister is a renowned doctor and cares for Quatre very much. If she's not worried, then he will make a full recovery."

He looked down to see that Harry had fallen asleep, his head pillowed on Heero's shoulder. The boy had circles under his eyes, indicating his sleep hadn't been easy lately, so Heero was loathe to wake him. He shifted around until he was lying on his good side and had Harry tucked safely between him and the back of the couch. The last two weeks hadn't exactly been easy, and he soon found his own eyes falling closed. He'd only rest for a moment, he told himself, right before he fell deeply asleep.

Chapter end. Please review!

A/N: Pretty sappy chapter, but I had a lot of fun writing it. I even made myself yell, "Kawaii!" Next: Harry is discovered by the Wizarding world. Bum-Bum-BUMMMMM! lol.

A/N2: If anyone knows French, would you be willing to look over my dialogue for the next chapter?