A/N: Happy belated Thanksgiving!
An Act of War
Harry groaned, his head throbbing. Blinking blurry eyes, he sat up in an unfamiliar bed. There, beside him, was a nightstand. Through blurry eyes, he caught the glint of metal, his glasses. He pulled them on, his stomach sinking as he remembered what had happened. He'd been kidnapped. His brothers… They'd been hurt, maybe killed!
He jumped from the bed and raced for the only door. It was locked; the handle didn't budge an inch when he yanked on it. Backing up, he thrust both hands forward, screaming in exertion as he pushed his energy forward. The blow hit the door and bounced. Harry gasped as he was flung backward forcefully. His head smacked into the opposite wall, making his ears ring, and he slid to the ground with a groan.
When he was no longer seeing stars, he took careful stock of the room. There was a nightstand by the bed. The two drawers revealed socks, underwear, slacks, and button-down shirts all in his size. Feeling queasy, he stepped away, attention drawn to the alcove across the room. A small toilet, sink, and shower stall were nestled inside. No mirror, tooth brush, hair brush, or soap… Nothing but a single towel and one roll of toilet paper.
Not good. So not good. With the bathroom and running water, he could be kept in here for a very long time without ever seeing his kidnappers. He could survive weeks without food. No contact meant no chance for escape. He had to get out of here. He had to get back to his brothers.
Harry leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He forced his heart rate to slow and pushed all his anxiety into a dark corner of his mind. He was in enemy hands. He had to assume they were watching him. He couldn't show weakness.
Descending into an emotionless mentality that he'd learned from Heero, Harry wrapped himself in thick layers of practicality and logic. Worrying accomplished nothing right now. He couldn't allow himself to dwell on what-if's. He had to focus on what he had available to him. Humans were flawed creatures. His abductors would make mistakes, and he had to be ready to take advantage of that.
Face blank, Harry looked around him with calculating eyes. The only other things in the room were a desk and chair. On the desk, there was an envelope addressed to Harry Potter sitting on top of what looked like a photo album. He ignored both and opened the single drawer, hoping for a letter opener, anything that could be used as a weapon. Unfortunately, he found only strangely thick paper and long feathers.
He stared down at the letter for a moment before he sat in the chair and opened it. He knew he was playing into the enemy's hands by reading it, but maybe if he played their game, he'd draw them inside, draw them into conversation. He needed something he could take advantage of.
Dear Harry,
I fear a conversation is beyond us at the moment. Therefore I have penned this letter, hoping to at least begin to make things clearer. I know you must be frightened and confused right now. Please be assured that you are in no danger. I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of the school your mother and father attended from the ages of eleven to seventeen. I was given a sacred charge upon their deaths to welcome you to this school upon your eleventh birthday. Unfortunately, you were not within range to receive my invitation at that time. Upon your return to Earth, I was alerted and sent forth those to receive you. I deeply regret the conflict that resulted. I know you must not believe me, but I really do mean you no harm. I hope in time you will come to see this for yourself.
Harry, I wish there were an easier way to explain what has transpired. Please keep an open mind. Everything I say here is the truth. You see, my boy, there is a hidden society living within those on Earth. Your parents are from this secret society, and you were born to it as well. Those in this special society have been gifted with certain powers. We use this power to keep our world separate from the world of those people who aren't so gifted. That is how we have lived for centuries, and it is the reason you have no knowledge of our existence.
This power is magic, Harry. You are a wizard, as your father was a wizard and your mother a witch. The school I head is Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I have left you with your family photo album. They say a picture is worth a thousand words. The woman with red hair is your mother. The man with glasses is your father. Please take time to look through it. When you are ready to hear the answers to your questions, write me back and we shall talk. I look forward to it.
Sincerely,
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore
Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Head Mugwump and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot
Harry coolly closed the letter. Even if the man were telling the truth, why had he not approached in a non-threatening manner? If his intentions were so pure, why had he sent men to ambush them at the top of the Eiffel Tower? If Harry were not a prisoner, why was he in a locked room with less than the bare essentials? This Dumbledore was a fool if he thought Harry would be so easily taken in.
Setting the missive aside, Harry slowly opened the photo album. He watched the moving people, his expression still, in the flat, otherwise normal pictures. Those in the photographs waved and smiled, walked around, and ran into and out of sight.
Harry took in the black robes and felt dread. He forced the hovering terror from his nightmares at bay by focusing on the kids' faces. There were a lot of a little red-haired girl with a boy who had greasy, black hair. The boy with glasses was always running around with a group of three others. The way they hung on each other and moved together reminded Harry of his brothers and tears stung his eyes. He pushed the grief down ruthlessly, keeping to his stoic mask. He couldn't afford to show these bastards were getting to him.
As he turned the pages, Harry noticed that in many of the pictures, the people carried around sticks like the attackers on the Eiffel Tower had possessed. He saw them used to lift things and transform things. It really did look like magic. The girl and boy who'd been identified as his parents grew quickly. The last picture was of them holding an infant in their arms and smiling happily into the camera. Harry guessed the baby was supposed to be him.
He shut the album and stared at his trembling fingers. Magic. There were wizards and witches in the world, and they hid from normal people. Harry wasn't dumb. It was plausible that the bit about magic existing was true. He could see why a group of magical people might hide from the normal world. Look what they had done during the Gundam wars. Had people like Commander Trieze known such a thing existed, it may have destroyed the world.
However, even if the people in the photos were his parents and Dumbledore really did run a magical school, that didn't explain why he'd been kidnapped so violently. It was also the possible that the people in the pictures were of wholly unrelated to him. It could all just be a ploy to manipulate him toward some end.
"The truth is hard to mask. Those diligent will always find their way back to it."
Wufei, he thought with a pang.
Well, there was nothing for it. He got up and moved to the bathroom. Stripping down to his waist, leaving his jeans on, he undid his messy braid. His expression didn't so much as twitch when he discovered his lock picks and the other small tools that he'd stored in the weave missing. He turned the shower on and bent forward to wet his hair.
"Your appearances can be a weapon," Quatre said in his memory. "Are you an enemy? Are you a friend? Strong or weak? How you look plays a big part in how others see you. It can be a disguise or it can be armor."
Once he'd rinsed as clean as he could get it, he turned off the shower and wrung the excess water out of his hair. He then used the towel to dry it further until it was merely damp. Meditatively, he ran his fingers through the long locks until it was less tangled and braided it once more. Wetting the end of the towel, he washed his face and hands as best as he could, and he used his finger to scrub at his teeth.
No way was he going to wear the clothes they had provided. The thought of it made his skin crawl. Besides, he wanted to show he wasn't a little child who could be easily fooled by made up stories. He wouldn't throw aside his own clothes and adopt theirs at the drop of a hat, not even if it was convenient. Clothes were like skin, and he wouldn't become one of them easily and without a fight.
He shook out his t-shirt and sweater and put them both back on. His scarf, gloves, jacket, and shoes were missing, but that was fine. He didn't need them. The temperature in the room was warm. He also took off his socks, so that he'd have better traction when there was an opportunity to run.
Reassured by the weight of his braid against his back, he returned to the desk. He took out the thick paper and frowned. There was nothing to write with unless… Harry lifted a feather. Sure enough, the tip was sharpened. He could see black ink inside. Holding the instrument awkwardly, he carefully wrote:
I'm ready to hear what you have to say.
He set the feather aside and waited patiently. At least it had been confirmed there were cameras in the room. It was the only explanation for how Dumbledore would get his message.
xXxXxXx
Albus' thoughts were on Fate as he watched the image of Harry sitting at the desk, a simple invitation written out in a messy scrawl was placed carefully before the teen.
Every year that had passed where Harry had remained out of reach had made Albus question his faith. Last year, his doubts had become despair with the return of Voldemort. But Harry had returned to them, and at a very convenient time. The students were distracted due to the spring holiday and a week of no classes. That meant he had full access to his staff, which currently had a significant amount of free time. This wasn't coincidence. It was Fate. He'd been wrong to doubt. Everything needed to defeat the Darkness would be provided. He only had to have patience and faith.
The floo flared green as Severus stepped into his office.
Albus smiled and came around his desk, careful not to disturb the scrying basin sitting in the center. "It's time. I want you to observe from here. You are the only other soul who is aware of just what Harry has endured before he was taken in by the Muggle military. You're also familiar with victims of brainwashing. I will be relying on your advice heavily in this matter."
Severus inclined his head, his dark eyes solemn. "Do not push him. Do not try and make him see that he is wrong. These will be seen as an attack. Accept his perception of reality, state your own view of events, and then leave him to think on the matter."
Albus nodded. "Yes, yes. I will do as you say." He squared his shoulders, knowing the importance of this first meeting. It would set the tone of their relationship henceforth.
Taking the floo powder in hand, Albus traveled to a fireplace on the same floor as the Room of Requirement. Subtle wards had been erected to keep students and staff alike clear of this corridor, so he met no one as he made his way to the special room. He did not wish to startle the boy so he knocked on the wall before concentrating.
A heavy wooden door with a brass knob appeared where bare stone had been a moment before. Albus steeled himself and pushed the door open. He entered directly across from the boy. Harry was on his feet, standing beside the chair at the desk. His green eyes were blank behind his thin-framed glasses. He demonstrated no fear at his appearance, though Albus knew he had to feel at least a little frightened.
He closed the door behind him with a friendly smile. "Hello, Harry. I am Albus Dumbledore. Thank you for agreeing to speak with me."
Harry said nothing in response, giving Albus time to really look him over.
The boy was a little on the short side for a thirteen-year-old, but he didn't look delicate. He was slender, yes, but there was strength in his shoulders and legs, obvious in the way he held himself. His damp hair was woven into a tight braid that fell over his shoulder and down his chest. It was his expression that really disturbed Albus. The boy's face was blank; his vivid green eyes like that of an emotionless doll.
Harry turned his head gracefully without once breaking eye contact, causing the braid to slide across his shoulder and fall down his back. "What is it you want to say to me?"
Albus was surprised by such a cold tone coming out of the mouth of a child and felt a pang of grief. What had this boy gone through in his few years? He forced such thoughts from his mind. Now wasn't the time. He was not foolish enough to think Harry would accept his pity. He offered the child a gentle smile.
"Do you have any questions? I know you must be confused…"
"You know nothing about me," Harry countered almost gently, eyes unblinking. "I am not confused."
Again Albus was taken aback.
Green eyes stared at him coolly. "Why did you bring me here?"
"I brought you here because it was your parent's wish and because it is where you belong. Hogwarts is the only place you can learn to harness your magic. It can be dangerous left uncontrolled."
"My magic is not dangerous or uncontrolled," Harry countered. "I've had training in its use."
Albus nodded agreeably. "You've demonstrated amazing control, but I am certain that Hogwarts has a more varied and more thorough curriculum in the study of magic than you could find elsewhere."
Harry's eyes narrowed, giving the first sign of emotion yet. "So you want to teach me. That is why you kidnapped me?"
"I regret the result of our attempt to contact you, Harry." Albus stepped forward, noting the way Harry tensed but stood his ground, and conjured a chair. He sat with a tired sigh. "It was not our intention for the encounter to become violent."
Harry's brows lowered in a glare. "You appeared out of nowhere and attacked us. How is that not violent?"
Albus nearly shook his head but stopped himself in time. Severus had warned him not to argue. "We merely wished to talk. It was reported to me that spells were not thrown until after your comrades attacked with their projectile weapons. My people had no time to speak before they were under fire and were forced to defend themselves."
"Projectile weapons…" Harry's head cocked. "You mean guns."
"Guns. Yes." Albus nodded, eyes twinkling. "They were quite surprised by the speed and ferocity of your comrades' response."
"They shouldn't have been." Harry's glare became darker. "If you just wanted to talk, why not approach us like normal people?"
"We feared you would escape again if we approached in a more traditional manner." Albus tugged at his beard thoughtfully. "Your parents were very important people. You, yourself, hold great significance in our society. Your absence these few years, with us unable to contact you, has been very alarming. I wished not to take any chances of losing you again, so my colleagues waited until you were in a position from which you could not disappear easily."
Harry's expression smoothed out into a blank mask once more. "So once I hear you out, you will let me go?"
Albus studied the young teen before him. "It's not that simple, Harry. The fact is the Wizarding world is at war with a very powerful, very evil wizard. This wizard terrorized our people for almost ten years before he was stopped by your family when you were eighteen months old. It cost your mother and father their lives. We've been a peace since then until last year. The Dark Lord managed to recover enough strength to wage his war once more, and I fear you are in grave danger. Lord Voldemort has been searching for you since his return to power, and every day that passes he grows stronger. It's only a matter of time before he finds you and kills you."
"And a school is safe?" Harry asked with a doubtful sneer.
"Yes. It is guarded by very powerful magics laid down a millennia ago by the Founders."
Harry crossed his arms over his chest, his expression smoothing out into a blank mask once more. "So… What? I attend school like an average student? What about summers? What about after I graduate?"
Albus folded his hands in his lap and stared over his half moon glasses at the child. "I sincerely hope the war will be over by that point. If not, I will have faith that you would then know enough magic to be able to protect yourself. That is what a school is for."
"I want my brothers," Harry announced abruptly. "They are security experts and can only contribute to my safety."
"I'm afraid it is not that easy," Albus denied gently. "They are Muggles, that is to say non-magical people. It is illegal to allow entrance into the Wizarding world to any Muggle."
Harry's green eyes glittered with anger even though his tone remained even. "You cannot possibly keep me from them. They are my legal guardians."
"In the Muggle world," Albus agreed, but softened his tone. "My boy, please consider. They have no defense against magic. By coming here, they would only be placed in unnecessary danger. The Dark Lord would slaughter them just to hurt you."
The hand that gripped the back of the chair so hard it turned Harry's knuckles white was the only sign of his distress. "They will not stop searching for me and might cause a breach in the school's security in an attempt to take me back."
"I'm sorry to say they will not be able to see Hogwarts or any similarly warded building." Albus stood, realizing their interview was reaching a stalemate and it would be best to retreat for now. "In order to protect both you and your family, their memories were modified. They will not search for you because they witnessed your death with their own eyes. It is for the best. Otherwise they would be in great danger. I hope you can understand when your temper cools."
xXxXxXx
Dumbledore stared at him sadly, his appearance that of an innocent Santa Claus. The old man flicked his hand and the chair he'd made appear disappeared into thin air. Like magic. Harry had to bite the inside of his cheek to hide a flinch. His heart thundered in his chest. His ears rang dangerously.
They witnessed your death.
Something wild and furious burned hotter and hotter in his chest. How dare they… How dare they… He felt torn open, gutted, and he could only imagine what his brothers must feel right now. Quatre, Duo, god Trowa. Wufei and… Heero. Heero thought he was dead. These people had fucked with his brothers' minds, and now they thought Harry was dead and gone, never coming back.
He very nearly collapsed to his knees. The huge hole ripped in his soul threatened to swallow him whole, but he locked his knees. He couldn't be weak. He had to make this right. He had to let them know he was alive. Had to...
"Dinner will be delivered in a few hours. Please get some rest, Harry."
He said nothing, trembling on the edge of exploding. Wait for it, wait for it…
His kidnapper sighed once more before turning and opening the door. Harry flung his arm violently forward, crying out with effort. Dumbledore had no time to react or defend. He was shoved forward so forcefully that his head bounced as it slammed into the doorjamb. Harry was already vaulting over his body, not waiting to see if he was dead or alive.
He sprinted down the stone corridor. Windows revealed he was several stories up and that outside the building was acres of grass and a huge lake. So much space… It made him a bit dizzy. He wasn't on a colony. He was on Earth. He had no idea where the closest town was. He had no idea what kind of dangers lurked in the wild. And even if he did find someone, he couldn't trust them. They might be allied with the old man. Despite all this, Harry didn't hesitate. Staying wasn't an option. Outside he'd have a chance to contact his brothers, here he'd never have even that much.
A door slammed open on the right. Harry dove forward, rolling. A suit of armor exploded, the clanging and banging of the metal was deafening. On his stomach, Harry looked behind him and saw the greasy-haired man from the Eiffel Tower, the one who most likely had messed with his brothers' minds and made them think he was dead.
Harry bared his teeth in a snarl. The man was bearing down on him, stick drawn and aimed. Harry couldn't see any light like before, but all the hairs stood up on his arms and he rolled quickly to the right, feeling a force pass him by and hit the ground where he'd been a second before.
Ignoring the pain as pieces of the shattered armor scratched into his stomach, Harry launched himself upward. He caught hold of the man's wrist and twisted to the side, using his body weight to apply pressure. There was a sharp crack, and the man howled. The stick dropped from numb fingers. Harry continued with his momentum, spinning around and lifting his leg. The man was pulled forward and down, his wrist still trapped in Harry's grip. Harry's heel came around and slammed into the man's head at the temple. He dropped, unconscious.
Harry let go of the broken wrist and didn't stick around. He turned and continued his breakneck charge down the corridor. His bare feet made a pattering rain of slapping sounds as he ran. His lungs burned as he panted for air. A staircase came into sight. The sound of laughing voices reached him. A group of teenage girls were halfway up the staircase.
Looked like Dumbledore wasn't lying when he said they were in a school.
He didn't have time to explain, couldn't get caught up in the crowd. He leapt up onto the banister and ran on top. It was way wider than the tightrope, but the downward angle increased his speed. The girls screeched as he practically flew by them. His footing was becoming unsteady. The next landing was approaching way too quickly. More groups of teenagers were milling around.
"Get out of the way!" he bellowed as he threw himself into a front flip.
His body made three tight rotations before he opened up and landed in a crouch, his legs absorbing the force of the landing. He sprinted forward, ignoring the cries of surprise and anger as he made his way through the students. This could help him. If he could lose himself in the crowd, he might be able to escape after all.
As he continued running blindly through the never ending corridors filled with twists and turns, the portraits on the walls called out to him, ordering him to stop. The timer in his head was counting down. He was running out of time. His legs burned, his head spun with not enough air. He could be running in circles for all he knew. This place was huge! Like he was in a castle or something!
His eyes swept the corridor as he ran, looking for the right opportunity. He turned a corner and ducked under the irritated swing of an empty suit of armor – What the hell! As if he didn't have enough problems! – The corridor was empty except for a single student, a little bigger than him. He put on a burst of speed. The boy's eyes widened as his mouth fell open in shock. Harry tackled him, throwing them both through a dark doorway and into what appeared to be an empty classroom.
"Gah!" the boy cried out before Harry slammed his hand down on his mouth.
"Shut up," he growled, straddling the boy's waist. Breathing hard, he leaned down and stared into the boy's grey eyes. "Don't make a sound, got it?"
The blond glared up at him with tears of pain glittering in his eyes.
"I need a way out of here, and you're going to help me. Any funny business and my fist will get real friendly with your face," Harry threatened, nearly growling.
The teen yanked Harry's hand from his mouth and hissed furiously, "Get off me, you filthy mudblood!"
"Where's the exit?" Harry demanded, lashing his palm forward. This time he pressed down on the teen's neck.
The blond's anger disappeared under a wave of fear. He thrashed and hit at Harry, unable to breathe. When the boy's eyes began to roll in his head, Harry released his throat. The blond hacked and coughed, tears falling down his flushed cheeks.
"You're dead," the boy rasped weakly.
Harry slapped him. "You're the one who's dead if you don't help me. Where's the exit?"
"Downstairs!" the boy cried. "Take the main staircase. You can't miss it."
"Where's that?"
"Just keep going straight down this corridor."
Harry rubbed the sweat from his forehead. "Thanks for your help." He reached for the blond's throat again, intending to knock him out.
"Wait!" The boy stared up at him with wide eyes, all anger gone. "Merlin, you're Harry Potter!"
"How did you know my name?" Harry demanded, nearly slapping him again.
"You're famous! That scar's where the Dark Lord almost killed you when you were a baby!"
He didn't have time for this. He wrapped his arm around the teen's throat, pulling him into a sleeper hold. "Sorry about this. Can't leave you behind to set the guards on me."
The teen thrashed under him, but he wasn't strong enough to throw Harry off. Harry gained some painful scratches for his trouble before the boy finally went limp. Getting to his feet, he slunk toward the open doorway. He could hear more students approaching. They were laughing loudly and talking about Quid-something. Harry hurried back to the unconscious blond and stripped him of his black robe.
He pulled it on over his clothes, stuck his hands in the pockets, ducked his head, and walked out of the room. The group of teens didn't look twice as Harry walked passed them.
He'd clearly found the main thorough fare, just as the blond had told him. There were students and teachers both climbing the four grand staircases, going about their own business. One teacher with a bun was scolding a boy and girl who'd been caught kissing. Harry veered away from them. A portrait questioned him, asking why he'd never seen him before. Harry ignored it and hoped everyone else did, too. He quickened his pace. He could see the two large front doors just one more floor below him. They stood open, letting in the afternoon sunlight and a chill spring breeze. Harry suppressed a shiver as his bare feet came down on the cold marble steps.
"What happened to your shoes?" one girl coming up asked him.
"Thought I'd walk barefoot on the grass," he answered with a smile, never stopping.
He came to the first floor and hurried to the doors.
"STOP THAT BOY!"
Harry's head snapped up to see the greasy-haired man. He darted forward, spinning out reach of the few older teens who tried to grab at him, and raced out the enormous doors. A girl about to enter screamed as he almost ran right into her. Harry literally spun around her and darted to the side. Just in time, too. He heard the girl scream again as she was bowled over, bound in ropes. He cut sideways, toward the shelter of the forest. He had to get behind cover! Fast!
Something invisible tripped him. He went tumbling, rolled forward with his momentum, and sprang back up, this time zigzaging randomly across the expanse of grass. Then he was under the cover of the trees, cloaked in shadow. A wild grin split his face; this he could work with!
xXxXxXx
"… and now we'll go to Pam. Is there any news in the missing boy case… Unfortunately not, Steve. As you know, yesterday a thirteen-year-old boy was traveling overseas with his family when he got separated from them in the crowd. We'd like to ask our viewers to please look at this photo one more time. If anyone has any information regarding this boy, please call…"
Heero walked up to the TV and turned it off. "You need to sleep, Duo."
Duo's bloodshot eyes shifted slowly from the screen. "There's been no ransom demand. That means it's most likely someone who isn't planning on giving Harry back."
"We've had Harry's picture broadcast all over the world. Une has all the spaceports on high alert. If anyone sees Harry, we'll know," Quatre spoke up from the desk, trying desperately to cling to hope. He rubbed at his temples tiredly.
"Or he's already disappeared into some lab somewhere," Duo countered, sunk in despair.
"You aren't helping," Wufei snarled. He flung his chopsticks down and shoved his small bowl of rice away, sending it spilling to the floor.
Heero's frown deepened. His team was falling apart. There was something seriously, seriously wrong with a depressed Duo. Duo was the one they all relied on to be the life and spirit of their group. "Bed, now." He grabbed Duo's arm and pulled him toward the empty bed.
Duo grumbled under his breath, brow creased in distress, but his eyes were already closed before his head even hit the pillow. Heero didn't bother trying to undress him or get him under the covers. Heero's eyes slid to the figure in the second bed. Trowa lay senseless, sedated.
Whatever they'd been given on the Eiffel Tower had reacted poorly with Trowa's already damaged memory. Ever since, Trowa's short term memory had been malfunctioning. Fortunately, Dr. Po had decided that there was no permanent damage and Trowa would recover in time.
The only positive thing about his condition was that, unlike the rest of them, he did not have any memory of Harry running, sobbing, toward the railing of the Tower and flinging himself over. Even knowing that image was false, it still played havoc with their emotions.
Quatre and Duo were working themselves to exhaustion. Quatre had his empathy wide open, hoping to get a trace on Harry. So far, the blond had only been able to tell Harry's general location, which was somewhere in Britain. Thus the reason they were now at a hotel in London.
Duo was in charge of the media, formulating statements that would not make the kidnappers feel threatened. They had even posted a five million dollar reward for Harry returned unharmed. His lover hadn't slept since Harry had been taken, unlike the rest of them who had been taking cat naps to remain sharp.
Wufei was their source working with the local authorities, while Heero was coordinating the Preventers' efforts to find their boy.
"You need to sleep," he stated again, this time including Quatre and Wufei in the order.
Wufei said nothing, merely stalked into the bathroom and shut the door.
"What if Harry…" Quatre argued weakly, face pale.
"You'll hear him if he calls for you, whether you're sleeping or not," Heero interrupted. "He's going to need us, and we need to be ready when that time comes."
Going to the desk, he grabbed Quatre by the shoulders and hefted him to his feet. The blond stared blankly ahead as he was guided toward the bed Trowa slept in. Like Duo, he was asleep before he was fully horizontal. Again, Heero left him dressed and on top of the covers.
"You should rest, as well."
Heero turned to see Wufei leaning against the doorjamb. "I'm fine." He grabbed up his laptop and moved to the now vacated desk.
Wufei followed him. He leaned against the wall and watched silently for several minutes while Heero scanned the Preventer server for any updates on the case. "Quatre told me to keep an eye on you. He said you tried to harm yourself."
Heero's fingers stilled on the keyboard. "… It was not my primary goal to inflict damage on my body."
"What other reason is there to you shoot yourself?" Wufei asked with a raised brow.
"I was trained to have no emotions. You're aware of how long it took to overcome the conditioning. After the initial shock of Harry's kidnapping, I returned to that state. The shot to my shoulder would not have done significant damage. It merely would have helped me return to my right mind."
"Next time just tell one of us to slap you," Wufei drawled.
Heero gave him a rueful look in return. "My pain tolerance is very high. I'm not sure a simple slap would suffice."
Wufei actually laughed softly. "I'm pretty sure we would make do."
Heero's lips twitched into a small smile. "Indeed." The hint of a smile disappeared as Heero straightened in his chair, eyes riveted on the computer. His fingers tapped rapidly at the keys.
"What is it?" Wufei asked, moving so he could see the screen.
"A boy matching Harry's description was spotted in the American spaceport…" He trailed off as he pulled up a video feed. It wasn't Harry.
Wufei sighed and walked away to the couch.
Heero closed the window and typed a negative reply. He leaned back in the seat, his back and neck cracking as he did so. Forty-nine hours and counting. Every hour that passed, there was a higher percentage of them never seeing Harry again or of Harry ending up dead. Heero was determined that that wouldn't happen. They were the best. They would find Harry and bring him home. Coldly determined, he hunched over the computer again. Not a minute later, a message popped up from Une.
01, we have a potential informant on the hotline.
Heero immediately grabbed for his cell phone and hit in a special code. He heard the line click open and spoke in an indifferent monotone. "Thank you for calling. You have information regarding the missing boy case?"
There was a pause. "Yeah. Yeah, I do. Am I speaking to his guardian? I'll only talk to his guardian."
Heero typed quickly to Une, Where is the call originating from, as he answered, "I am his guardian, yes. Heero Yuy. And your name?"
"I'd rather not say at the moment. Look, I know where he is. Do you want my information or not?"
Une's response popped up. London. Unable to get a closer fix.
"Yes, of course. What do you know?"
"I'd rather meet in person."
"Where?"
"Big Ben. Noon. Tomorrow. Don't come with anyone you can't trust. This information can't be leaked into the wrong hands. It could endanger Harry."
Heero's hand clenched into a fist. They had not publicized Harry's name. This so called informant was looking more and more authentic. "How will I recognize you?"
"Bring something of Harry's. Something he's touched or worn. I'll find you."
The call disconnected after that ominous instruction.
I'll have a team standing by, Une typed.
No, he answered. My team and I will handle it. I don't want to spook this guy.
There was a long pause before Une replied. Very well. Check in regularly. Be safe.
Heero signed out and quickly typed a word-for-word transcription of the conversation. "Wufei."
The Chinese man blinked open sleepy eyes.
"We have a lead."
Wufei immediately came over. He quickly read through the brief conversation, his knuckles turning white where they gripped the back of Heero's chair. "Should I wake the others?"
Heero looked at the clock: 11pm. They had thirteen hours before the meeting. "No. Let them sleep. I'll head over to the clock tower and set up surveillance cameras. Stay here and let me know if they link successfully with the laptop. While I'm out, I'll swing by HQ and pick up some equipment. We'll update the others when I return."
Wufei nodded and settled in front of the computer.
xXxXxXx
Severus was not happy. This wasn't unusual, but he was really not happy right now. The school was on lockdown, all the children locked within their dorms. His mentor was sedated in the infirmary with a shattered cheekbone and a broken nose. He was exhausted and slightly battered. He hadn't eaten dinner, and they were fast approaching breakfast. All this for one miserable little boy.
Harry Potter – their one true hope – had been running wild in the Forbidden Forest for twelve hours now with no shoes, wearing only jeans, a sweater, and a stolen school robe. It was spring time in Scotland. The nights were cold enough to leave frost on the ground, but did the child turn himself over like a reasonable creature? No, of course not. It was a serious concern that Potter had gone hypothermic and was laying unconscious somewhere slowly freezing to death.
"Report," he rasped hoarsely into his wand tip, having temporarily linked the wands of the search party.
"Nothing," Flitwick's voice squeaked tiredly back at him.
"Blimey, another false trail," Hagrid's booming voice responded.
"There's too much magical interference, I still can't get a lock on him," McGonagall answered with an audible huff of frustration. "The sun's coming up. We should…"
"Wait! ... He's close. I think I've found him, his scent is strong here," Lupin interrupted.
Heart beating faster, Severus surged forward, his exhaustion falling away. "Everyone converge on Lupin's position. McGonagall from the east, Hagrid the south, Flitwick west. I'll take the north. Lupin, make sure he doesn't slip past you toward the edge of the wards. We're only a half mile out from the boundary as it is. And whatever you do, don't get within reach of the boy."
Severus honestly hoped the little monster was still alive. He had a bit of revenge to reap, after all. His head still throbbed in time with every heartbeat despite his best bruise salve. When he was through with Potter, the teen would never entertain the thought of attacking Severus Snape again.
A grin of anticipation slashed across his features as he slipped silently through the forest, getting into position. This was it. After too many tedious hours of playing this twisted game of Hide and Seek, of following false trails and stumbling into crude traps, of listening to the others' magically enhanced voices try and coax the boy out of the forest, the search was over.
xXxXxXx
Harry had torn a strip from the robe he'd stolen and placed it in his mouth, trying to muffle the sound of his teeth chattering. He was filthy and his braid had come undone, the tie snapping when he'd yanked his hair free from a vicious shrub. He was kind of glad for the cold. His hands and feet were long numb, the cuts and scrapes no longer hurting.
He was beyond exhausted at this point. Maybe he could rest now? He hadn't heard the sound of his pursuers calling out to him in a long time. The sun was coming up. Hopefully it would bring enough warmth to stop his violent shivering. If he didn't rest soon, he'd collapse. God, he was hungry. Tears stung his cheeks as he thought of Duo. Where were they? Were they looking for him, or did they really believe he was dead?
Please, find me, he prayed as he stumbled and slid down to rest against an oak tree. He brought his knees to his chest and curled into a tight ball, desperate for warmth.
Ever since he'd been taken into the Gundam family, except for two attempted kidnappings, he hadn't once been away from his brothers. He shared a room with Wufei, cooked with Trowa and Duo, took daily lessons with all five of them, and occasionally went to work with Quatre and Heero. He was never alone. Until now. He'd never felt so small, not in a very long time, anyway. The world pressed in around him, making it hard to breathe. He literally felt sick with fear. What if he never saw them again? He didn't want to be alone!
Quatre! he cried out mentally. Quatre, please, find me! I'm alive! I need you! I'm so scared, and I don't know what to do!
A man stepped out of the brush. He had messy light brown hair and scars crossing his nose and down one cheek. Harry staggered to his feet, crying weakly and unable to stop. He thrust his hand out. It shook and wavered. Was he really prepared to kill? He'd seen people die. Seen his brothers kill. Did he have what it took to survive?
"Harry, I'm not going to hurt you," the man said, voice gentle.
Harry's eyes widened. He knew this voice. This was the man who crouched beside him as his brothers' had their memories altered. "Get-t-t-t away fr-from me-e-e," he spat, his teeth chattering loudly now without the cloth between them.
The stranger lifted his hands out to the side in a gesture of peace. "Please, Harry, I just want to take you in to get you warmed up and tend to your wounds. I smell blood."
"Well, I want-t-t to go hom-me. You t-t-took me-e-e from my fa-a-amily-y-y."
The man actually flinched. "If we made a mistake, I'm sorry. I'll see what I can do to get you in touch with your family. Just, please, Harry. Come with me for now. You're going to make yourself sick."
A twig snapped and Harry spun to see a dwarf step toward him. Harry concentrated and released a blast of force, only to miss as his hand jerked and jittered all over the place. Then he heard the greasy-haired man's voice, calling him stupid or something. He turned only to see a brief flash of red, before everything went dark.
xXxXxXx
"Harry!" Quatre sat up, drenched in sweat.
Duo was instantly by his side. "What is it? Did you sense him?"
Quatre nodded. "He's exhausted and scared. He's very upset, afraid he's lost us forever."
"Did you get a sense of where he is?" Heero demanded, standing at the foot of the bed with his arms crossed.
"Not exactly." Quatre punched the mattress by his thigh, one hand tugging fitfully at his hair. "North of here quite a ways. Nothing specific."
"Can you still sense him?" Duo questioned. He was leaning close, his violet eyes dark with worry.
Quatre shook his head. "No. It's gone now."
Heero turned, displaying none of the disappointment Quatre could sense he felt. "Get dressed. We have a rendezvous to make."
Duo turned to face his lover. "What rendezvous?"
"Someone called the hotline claiming to know where Harry is. We're meeting him in six hours in front of Big Ben. Wufei's been watching the monitors. So far there doesn't seem to be anyone getting into position to ambush us."
Duo practically leapt from the bed and grabbed a change of clothes. "I'll be ready in five."
Quatre cast a worried glance at his love, who was groggily getting dressed next to the bed. "What about Trowa?"
"We'll leave him in the SUV with Wufei. He can help monitor the area." He looked Quatre in the eyes. "Duo will patrol the perimeter, while you and I meet the informant. I'll need you to get as much as you can from the man."
Quatre nodded, his eyes going cold. "I understand."
In less than fifteen minutes, they were ready. Quatre wasn't surprised to find the SUV already set up with three laptops, each displaying video feed from the cameras Heero had set up around the meeting point. Quatre accepted the two handguns Duo passed back to him. He put one at the small of his back; the other went in a shoulder holster.
It took an hour to reach the plaza with the famous clock tower. The clock read five hours and counting until the meeting. The day was cloudy and cold. The plaza was practically empty this early, though Quatre knew better than to think it would stay that way. He turned to Trowa as he touched his wrist briefly.
"What are we doing?" Trowa asked for the third time since they had gotten in the car. Without short term memory, he kept forgetting what was happening.
Quatre leaned over and kissed him. At first Trowa was stiff and unyielding, but then the green-eyed pilot softened. Quatre pulled away, hurting for his husband. He hated to see the lost expression on his face. "Your memory has been damaged, but it will improve in a few days. Here…"
He leaned forward between Duo and Heero and grabbed a notepad off the dashboard. He quickly wrote a message on the pad. Your short term memory has been damaged. Everything's okay. Just take a deep breath. I promise it will get better soon. I love you. He tore off the paper and handed it to Trowa. "Hold on to this. When you get confused, read it."
Trowa looked pained as he accepted the note. His face was pale, his expression tormented. "I'll get better?"
"Yes. You'll get better," Quatre assured him again and kissed his cheek.
Trowa nodded and returned his gaze to the scenery outside the window. He held tightly to Quatre's note.
The hours went by surprisingly fast. It was time. Wufei parked the car a block from the tower, and Duo gave a sharp salute before trotting off, disappearing in the plaza's crowd. Quatre gave Trowa one last kiss before following Heero. He was really starting to hate London. The accent of the people seemed ridiculous and exaggerated. A sea of emotions swirled and eddied around him, making his head pound. He focused on Heero as tightly as he could, letting the man's calm aura sooth him.
They were in position for no more than five minutes when a dog came trotting over. Quatre caught a glimpse of a note around its collar. He pulled it free, reading: Follow the dog. Quatre straightened and passed it to Heero, who was still scanning their surroundings alertly. Heero frowned but gave a nod, indicating Quatre should go first. Heero would cover him.
The dog wove through the crowd. It came to an alley between a restaurant and a gift shop. Then they were on another street, this one just as busy as the plaza. Quatre had to fight to keep the dog in sight, eliciting angry reactions from those he shoved away carelessly. He wasn't worried. Heero would keep anyone from touching him in retaliation.
Quatre's head was throbbing more and more with every person he brushed by. It was like standing in front of a speaker at a live concert, emotions blaring into him through his unshielded empathy. His vision was beginning to strobe. He hated to do it, but he finally had to erect his shields, at least until they were away from the crowds.
He turned his fingers of his left hand in a circle, signaling he was now shielded to Heero. Heero frowned, and Quatre knew how he felt. This felt more and more like a set-up. Like they had purposefully been put in a position where his empathy would be rendered unusable. He caught a glimpse of Duo to the left, the pilot allowing himself to be seen to let them know he was nearby. No doubt Wufei was cussing up a storm as they left the range of the cameras.
They walked for nearly an hour. They were now in a residential area, the buildings around them grimy and set close together. It was an old neighborhood. Quatre could tell from the elegant architecture that it had once been a very high class area, but over the decades it had become more and more rundown, the wealthy moving elsewhere.
The dog finally came to a stop under an old tree in a small park. Liter was strewn about. Big crows sat on the edges of trash cans and pecked at the overflowing garbage. It was quiet, as much as anywhere in London could be. Quatre opened his empathy again, flicking his fingers to tell Heero he had dropped his shields.
They stepped up to the dog and looked around for whoever they were supposed to meet.
"Please don't shoot me, I'm unarmed."
Quatre spun around. Where the dog had sat now stood a black-haired man with blue eyes. He wore unremarkable clothes: black slacks and a white button-down. His hands were empty, raised beside his head. Amusement, worry, impatience flowed clearly into Quatre. He could sense no deception or mal-intent.
Duo appeared from between two buildings and hurried over. "What the hell!" he exclaimed, pointing dramatically at the seemingly innocent man. "You just changed from a dog!"
Quatre's eyes widened. It made sense… Duo would have alerted them had anyone approached, and they should have seen anyone coming on their own, but they hadn't. Still… He was the dog? That was impossible!
"Who are you?" Heero demanded in a dangerous growl, gun unsurprisingly aimed at the man's head.
The man gave a wry, charming smile. "The thing is, I have a lot of really incredible things to tell you. I would feel more comfortable if you put your gun away, or at least didn't point it at me. I wouldn't want you to shoot me accidentally."
"If he shoots you, it won't be an accident," Quatre informed him dryly. "Answer our questions. Who are you, and where is Harry?" Impossibilities or not, Harry was all that really mattered.
"Look…" The man sighed dramatically, his expression turning serious. "I'm just going to say it. I'm magical. I'm a wizard. So is Harry. We come from a secret society of magical human beings who have hidden from regular humans for centuries. Children tales of fairies and magic, King Arthur and Merlin, are actually based loosely on real historical accounts. We used to live together until the great separation where all contact between the magical world and the mundane world was forbidden for our protection."
A long moment past where they stared blankly, all three of their minds taking in this new information and furiously calculating how it would affect their search. Duo was the first to break. His stance relaxed as he nodded.
"Makes sense. Yep. Missing records, weird powers… Could be magic."
"Great." The man gave another wide smile. "Glad you're taking this so well."
"Turn into a dog again," Duo demanded, leaning forward into the man's space, violet eyes darkening dangerously. It wasn't a request.
Quatre's mouth literally dropped open as the man blurred and began to shrink. The black dog was back. It panted, tongue lolling out of its mouth. Then it blurred again, and the man was standing there once more, grinning wide.
"I have a magically hidden house right across the street. Care to join me for some tea?"
"What about Harry?" Quatre asked faintly. He felt like Alice who'd tumbled down the rabbit hole, and this man was the Mad Hatter, demanding he attend a tea party.
The man's smile disappeared. "Harry was taken by the Wizarding world for reasons that are too dark and lengthy to get into out here where anyone can overhear."
Heero lowered the gun but kept it in hand. "I would feel more comfortable meeting somewhere neutral. I also notice that you are reluctant to state your name."
The man stared at Heero. The tension rose once more. Duo shifted to the side so that if the man attacked, they couldn't be taken out at the same time. Quatre frowned. He didn't feel threat from the informant. He felt nervousness. Finally the man spoke.
"My name is Sirius Black. A few years ago, my name was published as an escaped criminal to the mundane world, but I assure you that I am innocent."
Heero's eyes narrowed. "If you are innocent, you wouldn't mind coming with me down to headquarters."
"I do mind, actually."
Black's pale blue eyes became opaque, but Quatre's ability allowed him to see past the blank front. Cold sweat moistened his brow at the sheer desperation that verged on terror that he sensed.
"I can't be caught by the magical world at the moment, and they have ways of finding out if I allowed myself to be held in a mundane facility." Black dropped his hands and Heero's gun instantly snapped up.
"Keep your hands where I can see them."
"Fine. I was just tired of holding them in the air." Black glared at all of them. "You don't really have a lot of choices, the way I see it. I'm breaking the law just by telling you about the existence of the Wizarding world. You either play along for now, or we go our separate ways."
Duo and Heero shot twin glares right back.
"You leave us no choice," Heero reluctantly admitted. "Duo."
The braided pilot nodded and pulled out his cell phone to call Wufei. "Contact established. Entering negotiations. One hour." He hung up without waiting for a response.
"If our partner does not hear from us at the scheduled time, you will not survive the night," Heero informed him factually.
The man's smile was back. "All right then. Let's get this party started. I live at Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Please keep that firmly in mind and follow me."
Quatre turned to follow the man, obediently thinking the address, only to come to a stop as a house seemed to shoulder its way between two others. Duo followed close on the man's heels, Heero right at his back. Quatre shook his head, feeling suddenly overwhelmed.
Rage, determination, and mistrust came flowing into him from the other two pilots. It actually steadied him. If there was in fact a Wizarding world, and it was looking more and more like there was, Quatre and the others would do whatever they had to, to get Harry back. Magic or no magic, Harry was theirs. Taking him was considered an act of war, and if there was one thing they knew how to do well, it was how to win a war.
Quatre strode after the others, steely mask firmly in place. Hang on, Harry. We're coming.
Chapter end. Please review!
A/N: So, kinda a filler chapter. I'm not 100% happy with the last half, but the first half was great fun to write. Lol!