Authors Note: Well it's been a while. I'm sure most people have left and for that i'm sorry. Recently I read through the entire original version of this story all 137 pages of it. I am deeply ashamed by how it had been written. Do I think this is written better? I do hope so. If you remember any of the original version then please know that Severus Snape is not a traitore blindly following Voldemort. Zachary shall not be included in this version unless I find a lot of people want him back and also instead of there only being a six week break in the hogwarts world now it is equal time. So nearly three years have passed in both worlds.

Disclaimer: I am obviously only doing this for the enjoyment not for any profit.

Chapter 3

A shot was fired. The loud noise echoing of the walls as the bullet hit its target. Trowa Barton really was a good shot. Standing there, the gun falling to the table the young man leaned forward, green eyes looking to notice whether he had a perfect bull's eye or was off by a millimetre. The target came forward. Damn. He had missed it by two millimetres; whilst to the untrained eye it was perfect to him he was once more nowhere near the aptitude for shooting as Heero.

"Your aim is getting better."

"I'm still off. I much prefer firing multiple bullets at once and cutting the enemy down."

"That's part of your problem. Sometimes a situation needs finesse rather than brute force."

Trowa turned. Standing behind him, arms folded was Heero. He was not looking at Trowa but instead at the target noting how much distance the entry hole was from being perfect. Trowa allowed his silent perusal. Heero was the perfect marksman and he knew what would be needed for Trowa to get better aim though after these last couple of years he was still off. Give him a machine gun any day.

"You forget to compensate. Even though we are in an empty room underground there will always be a breeze and gravity, you need to think about that."

A bullet shot through the target. Dead centre. Trowa watched undaunted as Heero put the gun down. He was proving his point and Trowa would listen. There was no such thing as petty jealousy between the two. They were both better at other things. Heero was a genius when it came to weapons but Trowa was an artist when it came to manipulating and being a spy.

"Is it all true?"

"Every word."

"Liar."

One word. That was all it took for Heero to break down all of Trowa's barriers. One word that made it clear to him that Heero understood, accepted and was willing to do what was needed. One word and Trowa couldn't help but smile. A sharp and bitter grin. He never could outsmart Heero.

"Well, the majority of the tales are true. Magic was real, the megalomaniac was real, the war," he stopped as he thought about it. When he had made the decision to do what he did, the war had been just starting to gain speed. Attacks were a daily occurrence, neighbour was fighting neighbour and the side of the light, Dumbledore's side that Harry Potter had blindly followed, was losing, quickly.

Trowa had wanted to play with Remus more, he had wanted him to whimper and beg for mercy, to break down and realise that it was Trowa holding the reins but then the idiot had to go into shock. He had lost too much blood, his body trying to compensate and keep his organs alive. Trowa knew that hypovolemic shock was dangerous and whilst he really didn't feel much for Remus any more he knew he couldn't let the soft hearted moron die. It would be worth more trouble than he knew was already on the horizon. He had stepped back and let Heero and Quatre take control. They were the best when it came to first aid. Trowa was fine with the basic wounds and procedures, such as CPR, stitching up wounds and removing bullets but anything more than that and he was lost. He had never wanted to be a doctor or a nurse; there were trained professionals to do that. However, Trowa was disappointed with how quick Remus had gone into shock. It was weakness. The pilots had been shot many times, often multiple times resulting in a large quantity of blood loss but hardly ever went into shock, and they often kept shooting shocking the people around them. Was it that their bodies were used to the torture they put it through? Was Remus so enamoured by his magic, so weakened that one wound made casually by a bullet could cause this much trouble? He hadn't even shot him in a dangerous place for Pete's sake.

Quatre and Heero had got Remus settled, they had brought him back from the edge and with one look from Quatre that promised Trowa he would most definitely be sleeping in a guest room and the good vodka would be locked away, and Trowa had allowed them to take him upstairs. Lady Une would have wanted to see the dead body, would have wanted to see the traitor and then all of Trowa's stories, his lies would have unravelled so he did the only thing he could think of. Stuff Remus in Duo's festering pit he called an office, shout the all clear to the soldiers waiting outside and when the courtyard was clear from deadly killing machines and snooping voyeurs had ushered Remus into Heero's large SUV and told them to take him to the manor. It had been the most rational plan at the time.

Standing by Heero now, watching as the other's mind worked quickly as to what was being said and what was not being said Trowa silently bemoaned the fact he hadn't let the man die. He wouldn't have, he needed the man to take him back, he had planned it to be this way when he had slit his own wrists, had someone else recite the spell and found this body to inhabit. It had all been for him to get stronger, tougher and the perfect killing machine to go back.

"So the lies involve how you came to be here and also that you had help." Heero was very quick.

Remus had explained everything as he was placed on the couch with a cup of tea in his hands. Trust Quatre to remember about manners. Trowa had stood at the edge of the room, his arms folded his head down as Remus retold his life story, told them everything from Lilly Potter sacrificing herself, to the years battling Voldemort and winning, to watching Cedric Diggory die and finally losing the only link to his parents, Sirius. His fingers had clenched around his bicep. It had been two years, nearly three and yet whilst there was no reason he should be feeling like this, guilt still tore at his insides. Stomach clenching, teeth biting the inside of his cheek were the only signs that he was in emotional turmoil, outwardly he was calm. Whilst Trowa had seen many things, had killed many people and the once light and pure soul of Harry Potter was now shrivelled and blackened he still had a place in his heart for those who had lost their lives for no reason. It had been pointless Sirius dying. Not rational.

Nobody noticed.

"You always were able to read me too well," Trowa laughed slightly and Heero shrugged in response.

Upon reaching the point of his story about finding Harry Potter within a pool of his own blood, seemingly having taken his own life was where Quatre had politely asked the man to explain how if they had seen the boy's dead body what made them search for him.

Severus Snape.

As Trowa had planned with quite a lot of help from the spy of the order, Severus had only revealed the information six months ago, the amount of time it would take them to find him and prepare the correct ingredients, potions, witches and wizards to follow the path of his soul. Severus had of course stated that it was Voldemort who had found out this titbit of information and was planning on finding Harry first. That was a lie. Voldemort was still certain that Harry Potter was dead and was using that fact to mock those who stood by the Order, by Dumbledore.

Remus explained that when the news broke, and it broke big that Harry Potter had committed suicide his name was mentioned in disgust. He was smeared with the title of coward and traitor. All those that had been friends with him turning their backs on his memory so as not to be associated. He had been struck from the books and his name was offensive to say. Voldemort had loved it. He had used this to his advantage gaining power and popularity quickly. The one person the one had considered to be Voldemort's downfall had killed himself in fear. There was no hope for just normal wizards so they swapped allegiances and only a few months after Harry Potter was laid to rest next to his parent's graves, Voldemort had taken control of the ministry and also Hogwarts.

That had hurt.

Dumbledore had fought bravely, or so Remus had said but lost, injured, humiliated and nothing but a mere shell of the great man he once was. That was until Severus had revealed the great news to them. That it had been a spell, that Harry had not turned his back on them he had gone to find the one option that could save them all.

"If I wasn't able to read people then I would be dead. Thousands of people would have been needlessly killed because I wasn't able to read when one is too cowardly to push the self-detonate button or launch the nuclear weapons. If I am not able to read people then you too would be dead by my own hand," Heero faced Trowa squarely.

"Do you still consider me a danger?"

"Would I be here if I did?"

Trowa smiled shaking his head slightly. Heero was his brother in arms. They were the two sides of the same coin and they both knew it. Whilst they might try and beat each other in mind games and manipulations they both knew that they could rely on the other completely. They would die for each other and even when Trowa had tortured Heero for information, hitting every weak point he knew of, making the man in front of him break and scream out, Heero never lost his trust knowing instinctively that Trowa was doing it for the good of the nation. There was a reason. He would gain an almost calculating look in his eyes, his fingers twitching and whilst he was hit and shot at again Heero would figure everything out. Just like he was doing now.

"He who helped you. Can he be trusted?"

"At the time of my leaving yes. Now, no. Too many years have passed, the bond we once had is nothing but a distant memory." Trowa sighed.

After Remus had told his story, after he had explained what was needed and why he was here Trowa had known his time was up. When he had first heard of the spell, when Severus had brought it to him Harry Potter had thought nothing about leaving and then coming back in a few years' time. He would not be leaving to make friends, he already had them, and there would be nothing to leave behind.

That was how it had started.

He had been no-name. The boy whose body this had been had just been another soldier dying. Praying to some unknown entity for a second lease of life and Harry Potter had answered him. No-name's soul and knowledge of the time they were in melded with that of Harry Potters and whilst at first it felt like there were two people in his head, they soon merged to be one being. Trowa Barton, Pilot of Heavy arms. He had made friends with the pilots; he had falling in love with Quatre and had gained a brother, a best friend and partner in Heero. Even as he felt his time coming to a close he still couldn't comprehend the idea of leaving them all behind and Remus seemingly hearing his inner thoughts had mentioned how it would be possible to bring the others with him.

They had all agreed.

It had not taken much to get them to agree. A mention of war, a mention of most probably dying on the battlefield and raised their blood lust, their hope. They were not made for peace; they were creatures of war and as such should be fighting in one. Trowa had hidden a smile. They would be leaving on the full blue moon, a rare event that was in a few hours' time. That was why Remus had been sent now.

Trowa had then left them. He had moved down to the basement, the shooting range that was soundproofed, where he could release his tension just shooting rounds.

"How bad is it?" Trowa looked back to Heero.

"We won't come back."

Heero's eyes gleamed as he heard it straight from Trowa. That was what he was hoping for. When the war was so bad it was considered suicide to join the army then Heero could be as ruthless as he was made to be, how he longed to be and couldn't in these times of peace. Whilst they could kill, whilst they could murder, they could not torture or maim. Trowa knew Heero missed messing with his prey, breaking their necks in his bare hands. He knew Wufei missed slicing his Katana through a body and watching as the prey would flounder in confusion as they hadn't realised they had lost a limb. Duo missed stealing from his prey, making them capture him and then him breaking out and cutting them with his knives almost like a circus show. They missed their cruelty, they practiced in private, their cruelty hidden from the peaceful and loving world that sung of love and friendship and they were slowly going out of their minds.

"Good." Heero leaned against the table his head down his arms folded.

Trowa stood leaning beside him, enjoying the closeness, the peace. There were no need for questions; there was no need for conversation for that moment. They enjoyed the quiet. Trowa and Heero stayed that way for almost fifteen minutes. They were both allowing their minds to take in all the information, to calm themselves before they would enter an atmosphere where they wouldn't sleep properly, they would be on constant alert and they both knew they were excited and glad for it.

"Why did you lie?" Heero asked softly.

"You should know the answer to this. Did you not lie to Relena often?" Trowa said. Heero smiled nodding his head in agreement.

"Humour me."

"It's easier than telling the truth. The truth about what I did and why I did it…well too many questions that I am not willing to answer."

"You knew we were all going to come with you."

"I knew the second we first met. When I followed you to those people offering them the gun. We are all only as good as each other. Each other's weakness is another's strength. It will make us undefeatable just as we were. There is going to be a third side there has to be."

"A third side?"

"Ours."

Heero turned to face Trowa fully. His eyes narrowing, his lips pulled tight. He was not happy at that phrase and Trowa knew it. Heero whilst being a leader among the pilots did not believe in starting his own side. There was the risk that he could be the next Treize or Zechs. It was how some soldiers turned out, a power trip.

"We shall be fighting for you?"

"Do not misunderstand. Whilst the world might see it as my side it shall be ours. The five of us." Trowa placed a hand of Heero's shoulder. For the first time Heero had misunderstood. He had not realised the true meaning behind his words and for the first time Heero had forgot that to Trowa Heero would always be the one in charge and have his utmost respect.

"You understand how you sound?" Heero responded looking at Trowa straight.

"I know but you must know I am not the best leader I prefer to be in the background. The figurehead of this side shall not be me but it must be done. The light side and the dark side are not suitable for us to win the war, we need our own side."

"That's sentimental. You're thinking of Quatre." Heero smirked.

"Of course. He's been brought up to act like royalty, to gain people's loyalty no one is going to question him being on top and us following when of course, behind the scenes that will not be the case."

"We are not even there and already you are planning?" Heero laughed. A hard sound that was awkward and deep. Heero rarely laughed. Trowa smiled in response shrugging slightly, only his left shoulder lifting.

"I am always planning you should know that by now. "

"I do know. Just like I know that we are to be leaving soon and you will need to show your face for that to happen."

Trowa grimaced. Heero knew he was hiding out here. He wanted to wait down here until the last possible moment. He couldn't stand sitting with Remus talking to him as if he was still Harry Potter the child of his friends. He was not a child and he was most definitely not that child. It would take all his strength not to throttle the man. He also couldn't face the betrayal on Quatre's face. Since finding out the truth Quatre had glared at him, had shuffled away from any touch he tried to initiate and Trowa had known that Quatre was pissed at him.

Trowa was pissed at him.

"I know." Trowa sighed. Heero smiled in response holding in his laughter. Trowa was acting like a petulant school boy for the moment and Heero couldn't help but laugh.

Trowa punched him in the stomach.

Heero retaliated.

They were bloodied and bruised by the time they reached the sitting room. They were both calmer; they were relaxed it was clear by their posture and the slight bounce in their step. Remus looked at them in confusion but the other pilots smiled in response except for Quatre. He was glad Trowa was feeling better but he did not understand the need to revert to male bravado and testosterone fuelled fighting to calm them down. He preferred a nice camomile tea and a good book or listen to the radio.

"The moon is nearly at its highest point," Remus cleared his throat. He had been busy whilst the other two were in the basement. A mark had been drawn on the floor in animal's blood. Quatre had not been pleased but if it was for the greater good then he would allow it.

None of the pilots were taking anything but the clothes on their backs and the weapons hidden on their persons. There was no need. Anything they would need they had the skills to get in the easiest and of course illegal way. There was nothing else for them to take. As Remus lifted his wand when all the pilots were standing within the circle blood streaming from large cuts on both their hands they all knew one thing.

They were finally going to be useful.