Thanks to everyone who reviewed. And especially my most recent reviewer, Touya's Angel, who thought the previous chapter was creepy. Muahahaha!
On the lawn of Hogwarts, in the early dawn's drizzle, Wufei slowly moved through his morning exercises. His slow, deep breaths created a serene inner self. He felt harmony, and was free of thought yet alert to everything around him.
When he'd first gone outside, the sky was deep blue, and the sun hadn't risen. The grass was dewy and the rain hadn't begun to fall. As he cleared his mind, the first sprinkling came down as a mist upon him, and now it fell steadily, soaking through his fine white silks and saturating his hair. As it dripped over his face, tiny hazy drops clung to his long eyelashes.
The sun crept up higher and higher, and soon the sky was no longer daybreak's grey-blue, but dashed with pink and orange where the clouds broke in the distance. With a final measured breath, he came to a resting position for a few moments, and went back up to the castle to further prepare for his day.
Harry swept around the Quidditch pitch, dodging the raindrops of the early morning. He had freedom and peace of mind. None of his troubled inner workings could reach him here. With a final measured breath, he came to a resting position for a few moments, and went back up to the castle to further prepare for his day.
Back in the Ravenclaw commons, Wufei stripped off his sopping wet clothes, and dried himself off before slipping on a fresh version of what he had been wearing, his robe and tie, and put his hair back into its customary ponytail.
Despite the unfamiliarity of his surroundings making him uncomfortable, Wufei started off on a good note when Ernie Macmillan introduced himself. Since they were roommates, it was lucky that they got along rather well, although Wufei tired quickly of the boy's pretentious attitude. Wufei couldn't see how the Ravenclaw house was the 'wise' one, even if all the students had high levels of intelligence.
In just a few minutes, Wufei stepped into the mostly empty Great Hall. In fact, only one other person was sitting there; Harry had also gone out earlier that morning. Feeling rather shy and awkward, Wufei approached his closest acquaintance yet and joined him for breakfast.
"Good Morning." Said Wufei. "Sleep well?"
"As well as can be expected." Replied Harry. Truthfully, he'd been plagued by nightmares of Cedric's death since the saviors had arrived in the wizarding world, but he wasn't about to reveal such a weak and humiliating secret to someone he barely knew. "And you?"
"As well as can be expected." mimicked Wufei. The haunted look in his eyes convinced Harry that perhaps they had similar expectations of sleep.
"I know. I really, really know, Wufei." Their eyes met, both emerald and ebony expressing the deep tragedies of their pasts. In that moment, something akin to static shock ran through both of them, causing twin gasps. Slowly, very slowly, Harry raised his hand up, and Wufei touched it by the fingertips; it was as though each boy was looking into a mirror, and seeing the other's reflection. They were connected.
"RON! YOU BLOODY- Oh, hi Harry." Ginny skidded to a halt, pink-faced from chasing her brother. The contact was broken as Harry started around at the sudden interruption. Students were flooding into the hall for their morning meal. Wufei sighed at the loss of the touch and joined his house table.
"Oh, Blaise, you're so kind and generous to everyone! I'm so glad I'm your boyfriend!" gushed Quatre, more or less permanently attached to Blaise's arm. Blaise smiled happily. He really liked Quatre, so even if it meant putting up a front, he would do what he had to in order to keep the smaller boy happy.
"I'll do anything for you, little one." he cooed, tapping Quatre's nose gently. The blonde stared up into his eyes.
"Please, don't call me that. That's what Trowa calls me... I don't want to think of you like him." Said Quatre, shuddering. 'That was kinda gross... Blaise calling me Little One? Ugh. Me with Trowa is like... incest or something.' He thought.
Of course, Blaise took this reaction completely the wrong way. He pulled Quatre close and glared hard at the pilot across the hall. 'I'll kill that bastard.'
'I'll kill that bastard.' Thought Draco, glaring at Blaise. 'How dare he take Quatre away from me?! The boy is mine... Hey, that's a song, isn't it? Huh...'
Trowa moseyed on over and managed to plop down gracefully on the bench.
"Morning, Draco."
"The boy is mine..."
"Erm..."
"Huh? Oh, umm..."
"Don't worry about it."
"Right then."
And so they ate.
So, the first day of class commenced. First thing in the morning was Quidditch, which had all the Houses of the same year together. Duo hopped around like the energizer bunny, Quatre chattered on to Blaise, Heero stood perfectly still as the soldier he was, Trowa nodded and 'mm-hmm'd to Draco's comments, and Wufei had an engaging conversation with Harry about sports and exercise.
"Class! Please come to order!" called Madam Hooch, striding across the field with room in hand. "Today we have a special guest, Hogwarts graduate, and professional Quidditch player, Oliver Wood. Please be on your best behavior and demonstrate your best flying technique. Oliver?"
He stepped up. "Well, I decided to come visit you since I have a break, and I heard there were new students. I'm really here to show these new guys how to do it right, and to scout out some new talent for the team. So, if the new students would gather over here, we can get started right away. I'd also like Harry to join us."
The six boys met Oliver on the opposite end of the Quidditch pitch from where the regular class was being held. The handsome young man handed each a broom, except Harry, who had already mounted his brand new Tatsumaki 1, a practically experimental Japanese racing broom. Asian wizarding technology, just like their muggle technology, was always the most advanced, no matter the product.
"Hello, boys. As you already know, I'm Oliver Wood. Call me Oliver or Wood if you like, but no other term is acceptable. I've been told that you're the Findaner saviors. What are your names?"
Quatre politely bowed and introduced himself and the others to Oliver. Heero was silent as always, but his mind was reeling. 'What's this feeling? I want to touch him. He's very... What was that word? Hot? Yes. He's hot. Nobody else I've ever seen is the same. Nobody else is so hot.' He thought. Indeed, the feeling of lustful attraction was new to Heero, but Oliver's handsome yet boyish look and general manner of sensibility (not including matters of Quidditch) managed to get through and knock him on the head... Ah, but which one? giggle
"Here's a broom for each of you. Mr. Black kindly donated enough Firebolts to the school for each student to use their own. Now, we will start with the basics. Hold your right hand over the broom, and say 'up!'"
Each pilot held their right hand over the broom and said the word, and each was very successful, except Heero, whose broom didn't respond at all.
"Up!" he said.
"Up! Up!" But the broom wouldn't move.
Oliver was puzzled. "Well, it's not a broom malfunction, and you wouldn't be here if you weren't magical, so... I know! Try with your left hand."
He put his left hand over the broom and repeated the word, causing the broom to fly right up with a 'smack!' in the palm of Heero's hand.
"Good! Now, swing your leg over your broom, and put your right hand in front of your left to grip it properly." They all did so, but again, something was off with Heero and his broom. "No, here." Oliver came up behind Heero, and put his hands over the smaller boy's to get the broom grip right. His warm, toned chest and stomach pressed against Heero's back made the soldier bite his lip to keep from responding to the sensation. "You have to switch your hands since you're a lefty." He said quietly, sending shivers down the other's spine as his hot breath blew against Heero's ear.
"H-hn..." He switched his hands slowly, with Oliver's own guiding him.
"Good. Make sure you don't grip too tight, but don't leave your hands too loose."
Harry piped up from the corner. "If you're fine now, let's start with the flying!"
"Um, yes, flying! We'll get to that immediately, if not sooner!"
Everyone took to the air. Duo and Trowa were extremely graceful and powerful. Wufei flew like anything else he put his mind to: the best he could. Although the Chinese boy was technically flying perfectly, he didn't have the natural ease of Harry, or his two gifted copilots. Indeed, Duo and Trowa flew as though performing an exotic ballet; it was much more lovely to look at than Harry's, even though Harry was still the best flier. Quatre hovered about, then darted over to another spot, before hovering peacefully once more. Heero... Heero needed a little more practice. Oliver winced as the lefty crashed into a goal post. The Perfect Soldier had finally been beaten. He couldn't fly a broom for Relena's pink limo.
"Heero! Come down here!" called Oliver. Heero swooped down, looking like a professional Quidditch player... And at about two-hundred feet above ground, was sent plummeting towards the earth. No one could do anything in time, and he hit the ground with the all-too-familiar crack of broken bones.
The others landed quickly near him. "Heero! Heero, wake up!" begged Duo. Heero opened his eyes and sat up. "Oh, man! Heero, you've gotta stop doing that!" Duo flung himself into Heero's arms, and kissed him briefly on the cheek. "Never, ever!"
Oliver's heart gave a painful little jump when he saw the interaction between Heero and Duo. Were they already lovers? 'Well, never mind that. I've got to see if Heero's injured.'
"Heero, are you hurt?" asked Oliver.
"Not seriously. I broke my leg again, maybe sprained my wrist, but nothing major."
"You broke your leg again?! How many times can you do that before it falls off?!" shrieked Duo. Quatre clapped his hands over his sensitive ears.
"Duo, as long as it is not infected and the bone is inside the flesh, it is impossible for my leg to fall off from being broken too many times." Said Heero calmly, ripping a piece of his robe off. He put his hands on his leg and squeezed the bones back into place, then, using a piece of snapped broom (volunteered by a worried-looking Harry at Wufei's instruction) he made a splint to hold the bones until they healed.
Oliver nearly fainted. 'How can he do that so calmly? These boys must have really been through something!' the thoughts raced through his mind at the possibilities.
Quatre, sensing the emotions practically radiating off of Oliver, touched him gently on the arm. "Calm down. We know how to deal with things like this. It's a minor injury in our line of work. We can talk later." Oliver nodded quietly. Yes, they could talk later. Calm washed over him in waves, and finally he insisted that Heero see Mme Pomfrey. He finally agreed when he was told that the mediwitch could heal it even faster than his enhanced body could.
So, they headed up the hill into Hogwarts, unaware of the cold steel blue eyes gazing upon them.
Muahahaha! I am so done with this chapter! Please review! And who exactly is watching them with a steely gaze? This answered and more, in the next chapter! ... whenever that's finished...