Strategy

Heero followed the target through the mysterious house, the tight hallway forcing them into single file – practically the worst tactical position. Duo came second at his back while Quatre took up the rear. So far the blond had not signaled that there were any more people in the house other than the four of them, but Heero knew better than to let his guard down.

As they were led down the dark corridor, his eyes made quick sweeps that took in everything. He wasn't pleased with how overstuffed with furniture the rooms they passed were. Anything or anyone could be hidden in the nooks. One room in particular made Heero stare grimly. The far wall had the mounted heads of some dozen alien creatures.

The exposed trek through unfamiliar territory finally came to an end. Black pushed open a swinging door and bright light hit them all in the face. Duo cut left, keeping with Black, ready to take him hostage or kill him at a moment's notice. Heero cut right, keeping his back to the wall. Taking only a single step into the room, Quatre took up a guard position next to the door.

They were in a windowless kitchen. Two walls were lined with waist-high dark brown cupboards. There was a sink with no faucet, as well as an antique black iron oven next to a matching stove that looked centuries old. A heavy square table with eight chairs took up the center of the floor. There were three doors, one in each wall except for the outside wall. All of them were closed.

"I don't really know how to explain everything," Black spoke up. He shifted nervously, eyeing Duo who continued to stand in his personal space. "So I gathered the most pertinent newspapers of the last two decades. Granted, they aren't always accurate, but it should give you a general overview about what's happening."

"Is anyone else here?" Heero demanded, not even bothering to look at the carefully folded papers sitting on the table.

"No." Black shook his head and leaned against the counter. "This house is spelled nine ways from Sunday. No one can spy on us here, magically or otherwise. Only those invited personally by me can even see the house, and no one can get in unless I greet them."

Heero raised his gun and fired. Sirius didn't have time to react. His pale blue eyes widened in horror before they rolled up in his head.

Duo eased the target's fall to the floor. "Nice shot," he said with a wild grin before ducking out the swinging door to investigate the house.

Black wasn't dead. Knowing they were meeting someone with important information on Harry, they had equipped their guns with tranquillizers. Heero hefted the sedated man into a chair. He had specialized cord in his inside jacket pocket, and he used it to secure Black's hands behind his back and his ankles to the chair legs. Quatre explored the kitchen, verbally reporting his findings. The third door led to a pantry filled with food stuff. The cabinets held normal kitchenware and utensils. There were no video feeds, recording devices, or any other technical apparatus.

"Check this out," Quatre called, getting his attention.

Heero looked up from wrapping Black's shoulder wound to see Quatre standing at the single floor to ceiling cabinet. He frowned and stepped closer. It was a refrigerator, but there was no motor or vent. In fact, it looked just like a normal wooden cupboard. There wasn't even insulation, and yet it was perfectly cold.

Quatre lifted a slender golden eyebrow, incredulity clear in his eyes.

Heero moved to the table and the offered newspapers. He continued to frown as he observed the moving photographs. Touching them, he felt plain ink and paper under his fingertips. He shrugged the oddity aside and began to rapidly scan the articles. Quatre joined him. They stood across from each other, watching the other's back until Duo returned.

"Three bedrooms, a library, and a study are upstairs. There's an attic filled with old, dusty junk. Downstairs has a sitting room, a dining room, an office, a master bedroom, and a smaller library," Duo reported. He was shaking his head ruefully. "Besides a lot of dust and some really strange dust bunnies, the house is clean. I couldn't find any bugs or cameras. No one's home."

"This place is incredible." Quatre tossed his head in the direction of the stove and oven. "It's all so old fashion!"

Duo shook his head and flopped into a kitchen chair after turning it backwards. "Can you believe this shit? Magic! Wufei's going to have a heart attack." He lifted a paper and stared at the moving photographs.

"Incredible," Quatre whispered, looking up from a newspaper. "A magical Ministry with attendant legal system, magical games and prisons…"

Duo whistled. "This Voldemort bastard's evil as fuck. Mass-murder, blackmail, terrorism…"

"And Harry's stuck in the middle of it all."

"What?" Quatre demanded, dropping his paper. Duo did the same, and they crowded around Heero's shoulders.

Harry Potter Survives Killing Curse!

The Boy-Who-Lived Saves Us All!

"Oh fuck," Duo groaned.

Heero looked over at the still unconscious man. "Call Wufei."

Quatre was too busy rapidly reading the article, so Duo sighed and pulled out his cell.

"No dice. Signal's crap in here."

Heero nodded. He'd expected nothing different. "Quatre, take the papers back to Wufei and Trowa. Study them. Duo and I will stay and interrogate Black."

"If this is real…" Quatre said lowly, staring into Heero's eyes intently.

Heero nodded his understanding. If this wasn't some extremely elaborate set-up – which even Heero knew to be very unlikely – they would need Black. They couldn't go too far during interrogation. They would need Black's goodwill.

Quatre gathered the papers in his arms. He could barely carry them all there were so many.

"I'll be back. Don't start the party without me." Duo winked and went to walk Quatre out.

Heero stood next to the table, his arms crossed as he stared down at Black through cold, empty eyes.

xXxXxXx

Harry woke back in the bedroom prison. He sat up with a groan, his whole body aching dully. Everything looked the same, except for a softly glowing red line a few inches in front of the handle-less door. Harry could guess what that was for. Even if the door was left open, he wouldn't be escaping again anytime soon. He also noticed another thick envelope sitting on the desk.

He ignored it. Instead, he crawled back under the covers and hid there in the dark. Tears burned down his cheeks and his heart thudded behind his eyes as he cried. He was well and truly trapped. His one and only chance had slipped by. He'd failed. Now he'd never see his family again. They'd never know he was alive.

"Heero," he whimpered as he began to sink into a heavy sleep.

xXxXxXx

"Headmaster, I truly feel we may have been too hasty," Remus said softly.

He was sitting across from the ancient wizard in the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore sat behind his desk, hands folded before him and his eyes filled with empathy. His cheek still bore the faint remnants of a bruise. They were both exhausted from dealing with a school that was still in an uproar about the mysterious boy – rumors had correctly named him Harry Potter – who'd run amok yesterday afternoon. Remus had been up for close to thirty-two hours now. Thank Merlin for Pepper-Up Potion.

"They killed Elphias and Sturgis without warning or provocation," Dumbledore reminded him. "They are clearly military agents. A young boy has no business being in their company."

"They were taking him on holiday in Paris," Remus voiced hesitantly. He wasn't even sure why he was still arguing. He didn't think the Headmaster was wrong. Dumbledore rarely was, but… There was just something in Harry's face and voice back in the forest. It wouldn't leave Remus alone.

"For all we know, they were working a mission." Dumbledore shook his head and sat up, clearly signaling he was through discussing this. "I commend your empathy, Remus, but Harry is healthier and safer away from those Muggles."

Remus dropped his eyes, nodding. "Yes, Professor. I know. I just worry about him."

"As do I." Dumbledore sighed and walked over to the perch where Fawkes sat sleeping. "He has been through so much. That is why we must do whatever it takes to make this transition easier for him." He turned and caught Remus' eye. "I was hoping you would visit him soon. Maybe share your memories of his parents with him. Photographs can only do so much."

"Of course," Remus agreed, pleased to be given the opportunity.

Dumbledore smiled kindly. "Good, good. It's getting late. Let's get some rest. We have a busy day ahead of us."

Remus stood. "Goodnight, Professor. Thank you."

"I am always glad to hear your concerns, Remus." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at him.

Remus gave him a tired smile in response and took his leave. His mind was already swirling with ideas. There were so many stories to choose from, but unfortunately many of them involved Sirius Black. His chest tightened. Even after all these years, it still physically pained him to think of his treacherous friend.

"Wherever you are, I hope you're miserable, you bastard," he muttered.

xXxXxXx

"Is this really necessary?" Sirius demanded, nearly slurring.

He'd already explained to Yuy the happenings of that horrible Halloween night when James and Lily had been killed and Harry had been taken. He'd already told the bastard how he'd been framed two days later when he'd finally caught up to that spineless traitor, Wormtail. He'd explained about Voldemort, and Dumbledore, and the Order of the Phoenix. What more did Yuy want? His whole life story? He was starving! He was sticky and sweaty. He wanted a bath and a large glass - or three - of water.

His tongue was almost too large for his mouth. His lips were cracked with the beginnings of dehydration. His shoulder was throbbing painfully, and he could no longer feel his hands. Two midnight blue eyes stared back at him, relentless and opaque. Sirius had joked and tried to laugh his situation off, to keep things friendly. Nothing. He'd tried guilting the man and appealing to his better nature. Nada. Finally, Sirius had raged and threatened. None of it affected the young man across from him. Not even a shade of emotion crossed his features.

"What do you want from me?" he demanded, hoarse. "Keeping me tied up won't change the facts. It won't get you Harry back. I'm perfectly willing to cooperate with you. I brought you here, didn't I? So just stop this. Let me go."

"Why did you come for us?" his tormenter asked after a long minute.

Sirius sighed and dropped his heavy head. His wavy hair fell messily into his face, sticking uncomfortably to his sweaty skin. Merlin, he'd kill to be able to scratch his nose! "I have no right to Harry. I told you, I'm a fugitive. You're his rightful guardians. If I stand a chance of helping Harry, then I'm going to need you to do it."

"How did you know who we are?"

Sirius sighed. "Three years ago… I got the paper, when I was in prison… Said Harry was missing, didn't make it to his first year at Hogwarts like he shoulda… I broke out. Trail was cold, but I knew Lily's sister and her husband, Dursley. We crashed their wedding." A brief smile curled his lips. "That old horse can scream, let me tell you." The smile faded. "Found out about Dursley's arrest, Petunia's death. Went looking for their kid. He was in the foster system. His aunt had died of heart failure a few years back. He didn't really know much, but when his aunt had died, he went through her things and found a folder." Fire kindled in Sirius' eyes. "I saw what Dursley did to my godson. He better be thankful he died in prison because I would have made Hell look like a steam bath in comparison."

"How did you find us?" Yuy asked, monotone, unfazed by the story or Sirius' wildly fluctuating emotions.

He barked a laugh. "It wasn't easy. Let me tell you." Sirius lifted his head and tilted it back, resting it on the back of the chair. "It took me two years. I went into the minds of anyone who had anything to do with the case: witnesses, hospital staff, policemen. It led me to an Agent Yuy, then to the Preventers. I finally caught up with you on L4... I couldn't get too close. Could only watch from afar, but… Harry seemed happy, and you take protectiveness to the ultimate level. I knew he'd be safe. So I came back here. Thought I'd watch the Wizarding world, keep an eye on it for Harry. Been here 'bout eight months when I caught one of the news bulletins about Harry being taken… You know the rest."

The kitchen door swung open and the young man with the long, braided hair stepped inside. Sirius gave him puppy-dog eyes. The man rolled his eyes, but he did turn to Yuy with crossed arms.

"How about we let him up and get him to invite Wuffers and Tro in? No matter what Cat tries, he can' t get them to see the place or come inside. Experimenting's all fun and good, but we're all getting a bit tired of Peek-A-Boo."

Yuy simply gave a nod, stood, and left the room.

"Thank you," Sirius said thickly, nearly vibrating with the need to be free. Ten years in Azkaban had left him a bit claustrophobic.

The braided man flashed a dangerous grin that made Sirius pale. He stepped up to the table and slammed a serrated knife into the table directly in front of Sirius. Where the knife had come from, he had no idea. The man was wearing a T-shirt and jeans.

"You mess with us and you're going to wish you were back in this chair all cozy and warm. Got it? I don't care if you have magic. We'll find a way to make you suffer," the man promised softly, still smiling. His eyes were nearly demonic.

"I believe you," Sirius said truthfully. "I just want to help Harry."

The man nodded, his expression softening into a genuine smile. Gone was the demon and in its place stood a pretty young man with beautiful violet eyes. "We appreciate it. Here, let me help you."

The serrated knife was pulled smoothly from the table as if the thick wood was as soft as butter. Three snicks later and he was free. Sirius practically jumped to his feet and numbly rubbed at his wrists.

"By-the-by, I'm Duo Maxwell. Glad to meet you."

Sirius smiled tentatively back. "Pleasure's all mine. Sirius Black."

Duo titled his head and gave a little wink. "So, Siri, what do you say to inviting two of our friends inside?"

Sirius shrugged. "As long as you don't tell the Muggle government or the Preventers about the magical community. I don't mind bending the law for you guys. Harry's magical, and you're his family, but if the world at large found out about us… I really don't want that on my conscience."

Duo nodded, looking for all the world like he honestly understood. And from what Sirius had learned about these five during his search for Harry, he probably did. "We're pretty good at keeping secrets. We don't tell nothing that doesn't need to be told."

Despite the poor treatment, Sirius couldn't help warming up to this man. "Sounds like a deal."

xXxXxXx

Harry stirred at the knock on his door. He opened blurry eyes and groped around for his glasses. "Come in," he called, and then nearly hit himself in the head for following habit. He wasn't at home; he'd been kidnapped! He didn't want to contribute to the potential student/temporary guest fantasy Dumbledore had going here. He was nothing short of a prisoner, and he wouldn't let anyone forget it.

The door opened and the brown-haired man from the Eiffel Tower and the forest stepped into the room. He had a tray of food with him that literally steamed. The smell of meat and potatoes hit Harry with nearly physical force. His stomach rumbled loudly. He wasn't exactly sure how many days had passed since he had dinner with his brothers before going up to the Eiffel Tower, but it had to have been at least two. He was starving.

"Hello, Harry. How are you feeling? Better I hope."

Harry got up from the bed, pleased he had chosen to sleep in his clothes. He ignored a dizzy spell and went to stand by the desk. He was afraid if he stayed in bed, it might be taken as an unspoken invitation to sit with him. Also, being caught up in covers would hamper his maneuverability should the man try something. But the real reason was that he just felt plain uncomfortable lying in a bed with an unfamiliar man in the room.

"What do you want?" he snapped, scowling. He was too frazzled to enter the cold state Heero had taught him. His unbound hair fell heavily around his shoulders and he pushed it impatiently out of his eyes.

"Come on, Harry. You need to eat," the man cajoled. He came forward to set the tray on the desk, carefully moving the waiting envelope aside.

Harry backed out of reach, cheeks flushed an angry red. "Stop saying my name as if you know me!"

The man straightened, eyes wide. "I apologize. I suppose we haven't been properly introduced. My name is Remus Lupin. I was a very close friend of your father's. I believe you have pictures of us together during our Hogwarts years?" He gave a gentle smile. "I was there when you were born, Harry, so I suppose that is why I feel I know you."

"I don't care about any of that," Harry snarled, his fists clenched by his side. "You knew my parents, if they are my real parents, but I didn't. And I don't know you. I have a family, and you helped take them away!"

Remus clutched the edge of the desk. "Don't say that. Those people from the Tower are fine, and your mother and father matter, too, Harry. They died for you, to protect you."

"I'm sorry, but that life is gone." He stared up at the man in entreaty. Maybe, just maybe, he could convince one of his captors to help him escape. "What's the point of turning my back on the people who raised me just to clutch at photographs of two people I can't even remember, who aren't even alive? My family needs me. I can't abandon them."

"Harry, try to see it from our point of view. You are the only child of two people who were greatly loved. They were closer to me than blood siblings, and you're all that's left of them," Remus whispered hoarsely.

Harry crossed his arms, gritting his teeth as the man once again called him so familiarly by name. "I'm sorry for your loss, but I can't bring them back. I'll be their legacy whether I'm here or not. I would think they would rather me be happy."

Remus frowned, fingers toying restlessly with a hole in his shirt. "But were you really happy? You're just a boy. You shouldn't be used because of your powers by the military. What kind of life is that really?"

"What are you talking about?" His brows crinkled with confusion.

"Those men you were with killed two of us, Harry. We know what they are; you don't have to hide it."

He glared hotly at the ignorant man. "Excuse us for protecting ourselves! We were minding our business when people impossibly appeared out of nowhere in the dead of night. Of course, we thought we were under attack, especially with cracks of gunfire going off all around us! Yeah, my family's military trained, but they aren't secret assassins or something!" His expression softened into an incredulous laugh. "You think they're using me for my powers? Ha! Even with my powers, they'd win every time. Besides, you're crazy if you think they'd let me do anything dangerous. I'm not even allowed out of the house without an escort! I'd never be allowed to do some dangerous mission."

Remus shook his head helplessly, amber eyes full of uncertainty.

Harry stepped closer, making his green eyes large behind his glasses. "Listen, I don't know what you think you were saving me from, but you're not. Those men aren't hurting me. They saved my life. They are my teachers, my brothers, my father and mother, all rolled into one. I've never been happier than I've been with them. They keep me safe, gave me a home and food and love. They even take me to a therapist, so they're not brainwashing me or whatever you're thinking. You can contact her, if you want. She's on L4. Her name's Dr. Bohren, and I'm telling you she would never allow me to remain with an abusive family. That would be against her Healer's Oath. Please… I'm begging you. Let me contact my family. Let me tell them I'm okay. Please…"

Honest desperation choked him up. He felt tears fill his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He wouldn't cry in front of this man. Remus stared back at him, obviously torn. Harry felt hope leap in his chest. Maybe he had a chance, after all!

"Okay, Harry," Remus said on a sigh. "I believe you. I'll do my best to convince Dumbledore to allow you to contact them. In exchange, I want you to give us a chance. We really do only want what's best for you."

He didn't believe that for a moment, but he didn't allow his face to show this. Instead, he gave a bright smile and a firm nod. "Okay. I can do that."

Remus smiled back. The expression took years off his age, making him look younger. "Would you like to hear some more about your parents?"

Not really, he thought, saying instead, "Yeah. I think I would."

"May I sit?" Remus gestured to the bed. Harry nodded, so he took a seat at the edge. "Why don't you sit at the desk? You can eat while I talk."

Again Harry obeyed. He'd gain nothing with disobedience and could potentially gain everything if he kept this man on his side. So he sat and grabbed his hair, twisting it and holding it over one shoulder so it didn't get in the way. He began to slowly eat the food brought to him, eyes never leaving the amber ones across from him.

"Well, James Potter was the only son of an old and ancient Pureblood line. He was easy going and friendly, but he was also very mischievous. Magic always came easy to him, so that left him plenty of time to plan the pranks that made him famous during his school years…"

And on and on the story went. It was full of magic, mayhem, and romance once his mother was brought into it. Harry listened, making interested noises at all the right places, but he was really just impatient for Remus to leave and get him permission to call his brothers. Getting to hear stories about his birth parents was all well and good, but it wasn't worth ruining the life he had now.

Besides, hearing about the wonderful, perfect people Remus described made him feel kind of bitter. Why couldn't he have grown up with them instead of the Dursleys? It wasn't fair. But… If he had, he would never have met Heero and the others. So maybe it was good he'd gone through everything he had with the Dursleys?

He shook his head, not appreciating the confusion this man was evoking.

"You look tired," Remus said with an affectionate smile. "I should let you get some rest."

"Thanks for telling me those stories," Harry said, pasting on a wide, happy smile. "I want to hear more, but don't forget to ask Dumbledore about calling my family."

"I won't, Harry," Remus promised. He stood and took a step forward, as if he was going to give Harry a hug. Harry's eyes widened and he tensed. Fortunately, the man only grabbed his shoulder, squeezing once before letting go. "Sleep well."

"Thanks. You, too," he called back, somehow managing to hold onto his smile.

xXxXxXx

"Enough!" Dumbledore yelled.

Remus shut his mouth, cheeks red with frustrated anger.

"Severus, what do you think?" the old Headmaster asked, turning to his expert.

Remus stared at the black-haired man imploringly.

Severus sneered at him. "The wolf is either wrong or right. Should he be right, Potter's resentment will prevent his ever cooperating. Should he be wrong, allowing him contact with those who have conditioned him will prevent him from ever getting free of their control."

"He doesn't behave like a mind-controlled slave!" Remus pointed out hotly.

"Severus?" Dumbledore questioned when he didn't immediately respond to the accusation.

Severus sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "It is extremely difficult to tell. He could be playing a role he's been taught should he ever be removed from his controllers."

"This is ridiculous!" Remus flung his hands up. "Let him write to them at least! It will make him feel better, and it might make him feel a bit more forgiving. If they write back, you can go over it for any control words!"

"Those are nearly impossible to predict," Severus snapped angrily.

"We can't just keep him locked in that room!" Remus yelled. "How is that healthy?"

"Enough!" Dumbledore said again. "Remus, thank you for bringing this problem to our attention, however I am well aware that he can't be kept locked in the Room of Requirement. I am working on a way to let him have free run of the castle. Not only am I concerned about his safety, but once it becomes official that Harry Potter is staying here the Ministry will become involved. Technically, Harry has no legal guardians. I need to have everything in place to ensure he is not handed off to someone like Lucius Malfoy as a temporary custodian."

"We will likely not be able to prevent him from getting a message out once he has more freedom," Severus admitted. "The boy is resourceful."

Dumbledore nodded. "Very well. He may write a letter. It will buy us some time to consider our options."

Remus nodded and spun on his heel. He marched from the tower, muttering under his breath. He wasn't an angry person, but dealing with the Headmaster when he's convinced he's right and Severus who's paranoid and sees meanings within meanings was enough to drive a Saint mad. He entered his quarters and immediately went to the decanter of brandy on the mantel. As he sipped the aged, amber liquid, he felt his muscles relax. It wasn't a phone call, but at least it was something.

Grinning sloppily, he saluted the wall in the direction of a certain thirteen-year-old and fell back into his sofa chair tiredly.

xXxXxXx

Wufei paced across the sitting room, a scowl on his face. Magic… He didn't want to believe it, it was ridiculous, but he didn't believe in denying reality. The consequences were always too great. The most immediate consequence would be to bear the stain of a broken promise.

Harry stared up at him with tormented green eyes. Tears dampened his cheeks and sparkled on his eyelashes. His small chest rose quickly up and down as if he'd run a race. Long, shoulder-length dark hair lay heavy around his head, damp with sweat.

"Why didn't they love me, brother Wufei?" the child whimpered, honestly distressed, little fists clenched. "Why? What did I do wrong?"

"You did nothing wrong," Wufei answered firmly. He knelt and gently stroked the boy's forehead, soothing him. "It had nothing to do with you. They were incomplete in themselves and allowed it to turn them evil."

"What if it was me? What if I turned them evil?" the little boy whispered into the night.

"You will never turn us evil," Wufei stated, tapping his student sharply on the nose.

Harry smiled up at him, the fear finally falling away from his expression. "You'd never be evil."

Wufei winced, remembering all the times when he'd lost his way. He'd done some terrible things during the wars. However, as he stared back into loving green eyes, he realized he never need fear losing his way again. "Sleep. I'm here."

The boy's eyes fell slowly closed as Harry rolled onto his side, facing Wufei. His little hand clutched at Wufei's shirt. "I'm scared," he whispered. "I'm scared you'll leave me."

"I give you my word that I'll always be here when you need me," Wufei vowed solemnly.

Harry sighed and finally allowed himself to fall asleep, trusting Wufei to keep his promise.

And Wufei wouldn't let that little boy down. They had made a promise to each other, and Wufei had taught Harry that you never broke a promise. He turned and strode from the sitting room. He entered the kitchen, and everyone around the table fell silent. The scowl he'd worn since entering this mad house had fallen away, smoothed into a mask of determination.

"How certain are you that he was taken by this Dumbledore?" Wufei questioned, staring into the stranger's blue eyes.

Black rubbed the back of his head. "Ninety percent? I mean, I'm pretty sure if it were Death Eaters who had attacked you that night, you wouldn't have escaped with simple memory charms. They would have killed you or taken you to torture you at their leisure. These are some really evil people we're dealing with."

"It's been a year, correct?" Heero asked. He stood over a long scroll where he was constructing a timeline.

"Yeah, there were rumors that the Dark Lord had returned June of last year. A girl was killed at Hogwarts and a basilisk escaped with an unfamiliar teen. The school was shut down for months, searched top to bottom by Aurors, and was deemed safe to reopen by September when the next school year started. Things were quiet in July, but in August, Diagon Alley was hit hard. The target was Ollivander's wand shop. The Dark Mark, Voldemort's symbol, was spelled above it, along with the message: Look to your ancestors for your magic else our sacred Power will be corrupted by dirty hands. Basically, he was saying to pass down wands so that Muggleborns won't be able to get wands of their own."

"And that was the only obvious attack?" Wufei asked, flipping through the folder Quatre had comprised of all the articles regarding the Dark Lord.

"Yeah." Black sighed. "Since then the Ministry has been cracking down on anything remotely Dark and the Auror numbers have doubled in preparation for the war. They're constantly patrolling. It's making quite a few people nervous. Voldemort's planning something. We just don't know what."

"This article says the reason Voldemort hasn't attacked is because he's busy searching for Harry." Quatre removed the article in question and placed it in the center of the table.

Duo slammed his hand down on the table angrily. "How can they possibly know that?"

Black shrugged. "It's a pretty good guess. The reason Voldemort went to Godric's Hollow was because he believed in the prophecy that said a child was coming who could defeat him. And now he even has proof. Something about Harry weakens him. Voldemort will do whatever it takes to kill him."

"Harry's dream…"

All eyes turned toward Trowa. The green-eyed pilot stood in the corner of the kitchen and had been silent up until now.

Wufei paled. "His scar bled," he remembered. It had happened in June. They hadn't been able to wake Harry from the night terror for nearly an hour, and his scar had split open.

"So those dreams he's been having, of a black-cloaked figure with glowing red eyes… That was Voldemort?" Duo whispered, dread in his voice.

"What dream?" Black demanded, looking around at the five pilots.

"We have a target," Heero announced, ignoring the wizard. "We need to know everything there is to know about this Dark Lord."

"Who is he? Where did he come from?" Quatre asked Black. "The first mention of him is in the seventies and he was already an adult."

"I don't know. He just appeared…" Black eyed Heero. "What do you mean you have a target? You can't possibly be thinking…"

"He's clearly British, the way he talks," Wufei pointed out. "You said everyone goes to this Hogwarts. Who was he before he became this Voldemort?"

The wizard ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "I told you I don't know."

Quatre gave the wizard his no-nonsense stare. "Then we'll have to do this the hard way. Can you get Hogwarts year books from the sixties and seventies? We'll go through each individual. The one we can't place will be Voldemort."

Black's mouth dropped open in shock. "But that will take forever!"

Wufei glared dangerously at the imbecile. "It must be done," he snapped. "Now can you do it?"

"The Ministry would have a roster. And Hogwarts would have copies, of course," Black finally answered. "But we can't break in there!"

"Which would be easiest?" Duo asked. Wufei could tell he was already coming up with ideas.

Black's eyes were wide. "I guess the Ministry. More people to hide among, more permeable wards because it's a public place."

Heero nodded. "Black, Duo, I want you to scout the place, create detailed map of the entrances and exits. Quatre, I need you to come up with ways to protect us from magic. Wufei, I want you to research this Hogwarts place. We'll need to know everything if we're successfully going to get Harry back. Trowa, you and I will report in to Une and get supplies."

"You can't tell about…!" Black barked in distress.

"We won't," Trowa reassured the wizard, Heero ignoring him completely.

Black shook his head, his expression softening into a grin. "Damn. I can't believe this, but hell… I'm in!"

Duo patted the man's head as Trowa and Heero left on their mission. "You don't exactly have a choice. Come on. We've got a Ministry to scout."

Wufei couldn't help giving a sadistic smirk at Black's worried expression.

xXxXxXx

Trowa followed Heero into the tall glass skyscraper that was the Preventer HQ in London. He was a bit foggy on the details, but he was beginning to remember from moment to moment what was happening. For example, he knew they were getting supplies for some crucial mission. A mission that was secret, even from Une. He knew it had something to do with Harry, but it wasn't a retrieval mission. Wherever Harry was, he was safe enough for the time being.

"Heero!"

Trowa's eyes widened minutely as Relena Peacecraft Darlian came striding toward them as soon as the elevator doors opened. The young woman was one of the most important World-Space leaders. She had played a pivotal role in their lives during the war, especially to Heero. Her staunch commitment to pacifism throughout the bloody conflicts had inspired and infuriated Heero in turns.

Quatre had suspected there was a sexual attraction between the two, and that they would develop a relationship once the wars came to an end, but to the best of Trowa's knowledge it had never happened. Heero and Relena were simply close friends. A relationship between them was impractical since they were both workaholics in completely different fields – Heero to law enforcement and Relena to politics. In the five years they'd had Harry, Relena had visited them only half a dozen times. Much to their amusement she still favored pink, although she was more subtle about it now than when she had been a teenager.

It felt good to know all these things clearly and without confusion.

Relena strode toward them, expression tight with worry. "I've just arrived. Has there been any leads?"

Heero said nothing as he moved out of the elevator and took her arm, leading her back toward Une's office.

Trowa followed in their wake. He was unsurprised to find Une sitting behind her desk. Last he knew, she was still on L3, but with this crisis it was no surprise she'd made the trip down to Earth personally. You can only do so much through video conference, after all.

Une was older than all of them by about ten years. She had brown hair and eyes but was far from plain. She had busty feminine curves and a nearly pouty mouth. Trowa could remember a time when she'd been so torn by the war and her loyalties that she'd developed a split personality. One of her faces had been pro-war, a big believer in the world and space needing to be destroyed so that it could be rebuilt into a better image. Her other face had encouraged peace, feeling hope for the world and space alike. She'd long since reconciled those two parts of her personality. It made her even more charismatic and able as a leader.

"Agent Wing. President Darlian. Mr. Barton-Winner. Have a seat."

Trowa pulled a third chair from against the wall and set it behind the two already placed in front of her desk. Heero and Relena sat, Relena hardly waiting before she demanded information.

"Has there been any progress in locating Harry?"

"Yes. We received a phone call from London. A man claimed to know Harry's location. My team and I made contact and confirmed his information."

"Where is he? Do you know his status?" Une leaned eagerly forward across her desk.

Heero's voice never wavered from a monotone. "The situation is still ongoing. I'm afraid I cannot divulge any information at this time."

Une sat back, clearly startled.

Relena twisted her body around to face Heero. "What's that supposed to mean? Are you covering for these criminals? Are they blackmailing you?"

Heero met her gaze calmly and said nothing to that absurd accusation. Heero was not an easy person to manipulate, and he wasn't alone. Quatre, Duo, and Wufei were involved. The likelihood of anyone getting the better of them for long was very small. – Trowa would have added his own name to the list, but he wasn't exactly running at one hundred percent as of yet.

Une pierced Trowa with her gaze, as if sensing his weakness. "And you agree with your comrade, Mr. Barton-Winner? You are confident you can handle the situation on your own? These criminals have already proven to have some advantage over you when it comes to a fight."

His memory loss made him the most likely to cave to self-doubt. Unfortunately for her, no matter how much he doubted his own abilities at the moment, he was still completely confident in the capabilities of his brothers. "Yes," he answered simply.

"We require equipment," Heero informed the Commander.

"And you think I should just hand over expensive, state-of-the-art equipment without a proper debriefing?" Une asked almost sweetly.

"It would be more efficient to acquire the gear here, but we can get what we need elsewhere if necessary," Heero answered her honestly, meeting her steadily through his messy bangs.

Une sighed and rubbed at her forehead.

"Heero! Be serious! We care about Harry, too. You can't expect us to be satisfied with no explanation," Relena scolded, voice as sharp as her manicured nails.

"I sympathize, but it is necessary for the success of our mission."

And that's what it always came down to, the success of the mission. Heero would never jeopardize that, as both of these women well knew. Trowa almost smiled as he watched the fight leave Relena's expression and heard the resignation in Une's audible sigh.

"I expect a detailed report as soon as possible," Une ordered and Heero inclined his head. "Very well. You have full access to the stock room."

Trowa and Heero stood simultaneously and offered crisp salutes.

"And I want regular check-ins to at least know you're still alive!" Une demanded as they took their leave.

xXxXxXx

Harry sat at the desk, staring at the still unopened envelope. His fingers moved dexterously through his hair, braiding and unbraiding it. His clothes were wrinkled and starting to smell, but he refused to change. He refused to open the damned letter. He refused to do anything until he got what he wanted.

There was a knock at the door and Harry turned his chair to face it, crossing his legs and tossing his half-braided hair over his shoulder. "Yes?"

Dumbledore stepped into the room, blue eyes twinkling. "Good morning, Harry. I brought breakfast."

"How thoughtful of you," Harry drawled, unimpressed.

Dumbledore moved forward and placed the tray on the bed. "After considering your situation, I felt perhaps I was too hasty in my concern for you. If you would like, I would be happy to post a letter to your family."

Harry kept his expression neutral even though he wanted to sneer. Dumbledore was trying to make it seem like it was his idea instead of Remus' influence. He was trying to make him feel grateful so that Harry would be more willing to behave. It wouldn't work. "I appreciate it."

"Well?" Dumbledore flicked his fingers toward the desk.

Harry glared. So they wouldn't give him time to construct a letter, they would make him write it quickly and on the spot. They were probably hoping that would stop Harry from being able to put in secret messages. Too bad for them that Harry was well practiced in crafting letters quickly using the code system his family had taught him. It wasn't impossible to break, but it usually escaped the notice of most people.

He turned around, pulled out the unfamiliar thick paper and the strange quill. He hated turning his back on the conniving old man, but he'd been left with no choice. Hello, all! Maybe you won't believe me, but I am alive. He looked over his shoulder. "Can I tell them what's happened?" he asked coolly.

"You may say whatever you like as long as you don't mention your location or anything about magic," Dumbledore answered patiently.

Harry was surprised. He turned back to his letter. Hello, all! Maybe you won't believe me, but I'm alive. I am currently with friends of my parents. They have invited me to stay with them so that I may learn about my history. I'm the heir concerning the Potter family, and I feel I owe it to them to at least go through everything. Please don't be worried. I will contact you again soon. Love, your little brother Harry.

He folded the letter and handed it to Dumbledore, not bothering with an envelope. He wasn't foolish enough to believe the letter wouldn't be read before it was sent, if it was sent. "Thank you."

Dumbledore inclined his head. "It's no trouble, my boy. I do wish you to be happy here. If opening a correspondence with your family will help make that happen, I will not stop you." His faded blue eyes sharpened behind his half-moon glasses. "As long as you are aware that you are placing them in some danger by revealing that fact that you did not die."

"Do you have family, sir?" Harry asked, tone icy. "Can you look me honestly in the eye and tell me it would be best for them to believe I am dead? How would you feel if your family pretended to die and never told you any differently? How would you feel if they needlessly left you with unmanageable guilt and self-loathing for the rest of your life? Can you honestly say you'd be fine with that, sir?"

Dumbledore didn't answer the question. Instead, he pulled out a shrunken pile of books. A wave of his hand and they became normal sized. "To occupy your time. I thought you might find them interesting. They are the texts first years study here at Hogwarts. Good day."

Harry watched him leave, feeling triumphant. He had won a hit off his captor. A Duoesque grin spread across his face. Almost cheerfully, he went to his bed and picked up a book. Things were starting to take a turn for the better.

Chapter end. Please review!

A/N: A shorter chapter than I usually write, but it just felt like this was the end. Major things happen next and I wouldn't want to cut the chapter in the middle of the action. I know how you all feel about cliff hangers! lol