Authors Note: Hello! Thank you for your kind messages and also concerns over how Quatre has been acting. I can understand all of your annoyances with him and hopefully this chapter will help show him in a moreā¦mature light. Saying that I know that this chapter is going to divide people's opinion and it may even turn many off the story. For that I am sorry but I felt that this is the right direction for the characters to go in. In the original version Trowa and Quatre broke up very very messily, Quatre sided with Voldemort and they became enemies. I wanted this to be much more mature and fitting of the two boys who had fought and killed beside each other. Also be warned there is a character death in this chapter which again may piss some people off. Again I'm sorry.
On another note. I realise I am in need of a Beta for this story. My grammar is not perfect and I tend to skip from here to there so if anyone is interested please PM me.
Thank you all for reading it means the world to me. Have a good day.
Chapter 6:
Two months had passed and Quatre felt like he was finally starting to get his bearings in this strange new world. There were no colonies. No humans were living out there and there was no such thing as general travel to space. Often he would sit outside, look up to the moon and think maybe someone was considering building a colony. This also meant that there were no such things as Gundams and whilst his pacifist upbringing was rejoicing he missed Sandrock dearly.
Everyday had been spent with the wizards trying to teach him magic to see if he had any of his old abilities, and they had continued to call him Harry Potter. After three weeks Quatre had quite firmly told them that he was not Harry Potter. He was Quatre and would prefer to be called as such. As they realised he had no magical tendencies, nor did any of the pilots, he watched and felt as every wizard went through the five stages of grief. Remus Lupin had explained that they had gained hope in the idea that Harry's soul was still out there, that maybe their Harry would be back, only to realise that whilst Quatre had Harry's soul he was in no way whom they wanted him to be. This in turn made them relive the grief, the anger of realising that that poor boy had truly killed himself. That truth hurt them deeply.
Remus had done as he was told, he had not told anyone that it was Trowa who was truly Harry, nor had he told anyone that Trowa was perfectly capable of using magic. He had allowed everyone to consider what the pilots told them to be the truth, it made his life simpler. The bushy haired girl had taken it quite badly but Quatre understood, it had taken him a long time to understand the death of his father, to forgive himself for nearly killing Trowa and to finally understand the true meaning of pacifism and although he believed in it, he could never live by it.
Trowa, Heero and Duo disappeared regularly. Wufei, it seemed, had been charged with staying within the safe house and watching, learning and noting the weaknesses of the wizards. Quatre was charged with playing the role that the two silent males had designed for him to play. It still prickled that they could so easily manipulate him. However, he was becoming used to it and understanding their need for secrecy.
They often communicated with their Morse code. Trowa had explained that the wizards could use spells to translate what they were saying so they must always keep up their guard as if there was constant CCTV filming them, as if they were in a very large cell. Trowa had also explained that he was in fact able to use his magic much better than the wizards knew or would ever find out. He knew somehow that there was most definitely a spy in the ranks; he just didn't know who it was.
Quatre had asked him how he knew this.
"It is what I would do. Although Voldemort and the dark side believe that Dumbledore is defeated and weak, he is still the enemy. You would want to know everything your enemy is doing so he can not surprise you and stab you in the back. It is rational," Trowa had shrugged indifferently, turned his back and continued making plans with Duo about where the local network of homeless teens, drug abusers and criminals frequented. Quatre had allowed him.
Trowa and Quatre's relationship had reached an impasse of sorts. Although they had not uttered the words of breaking up, they were no longer as close as they had been. Quatre was not as upset as he thought he would have been. He had always known that the relationship would never last. He was expected to get married and have children, just like his father had done. Whilst it was possible for children to be born via test tube, as his sisters were, there was still the expectation that the head of the Winner corporation would be a married man with a family to hand down the legacy to. It had always been unsaid between the two of them. Every time Quatre's sisters had come to visit and showed him more pictures of daughters of powerful tycoons, Trowa would calmly stand and walk out of the room.
They both knew that it wouldn't last.
It had always been the elephant in the room between them but there had never been any bitterness. It was just how things would have to be. Trowa had always called himself Quatre's experimentation phase, but Quatre had known deep down that the man had fallen in love with him even though he had resisted every step of the way.
Perhaps that was why Quatre was allowing Trowa to move further towards Heero, maybe that was why he was sabotaging their relationship. He didn't know. This little field trip, this new war that Trowa just had to fight in had been the perfect excuse for Quatre to cut all ties with the man that he too had come to care deeply about. He had always had a great respect for Trowa and always a deep friendship with the man who loved music just as much as him, but Trowa had been right. To begin with it had been just a phase. He had killed people, his father had not agreed with him fighting and he had felt alone. Then came Trowa. The first Gundam pilot; tall, strong and finally someone who was able to understand what he was feeling. To Quatre it had made sense at the time. Then he had gotten to know Trowa. They had talked endlessly as they lay in bed, as Trowa rubbed his hands across his body and soothed his worries, as Trowa would murmur his understanding when he spoke about the pressures of his family's expectations for him. He had gotten used to him.
It had become dangerous.
Quatre knew that Trowa did not need to fight in this war between wizards he didn't know. He didn't care about. The reason Trowa had jumped at the chance, the reason they had followed him was because they were not designed for peace. They were slowly cracking under the pressure of maintaining the portrait of peace, of understanding of a kind nature. There was no room for torture, for shoot first ask questions later. Peace was a time for human rights and all that the pilots did not believe in. They fought dirty to get the job done and they had been slowly dying. That was the reason they had come to fight a war for people they did not know nor care about.
They longed to kill, to fight and most of all, to be needed.
BANG!
Quatre was on the floor, his ears ringing, his eyes watering and hair singed. Pulling himself to his knees, his hands going to his ears to stop the ringing he looked up. There was no far wall. Debris was everywhere, dust settling on the table, the sides and on the people lying on the floor. Pulling himself up, his head hurting, eyes finding it hard to focus he stumbled forward, his hand reaching to the back of his trousers for the gun he had sitting there. Ignoring the ringing, he had been in more than enough explosions; he pulled back the chamber and clicked off the safety.
"Quatre!" That was Hermione, her leg bleeding from shrapnel that had embedded itself into her lower leg. There was Ron lying motionless over at the far side. Quatre stumbled towards them.
Where was Trowa?
Looking around frantically he stumbled over to Hermione. He would not pull out the shrapnel just yet as he was not sure the coast was clear and it was best to stay in to prevent any further bleeding. Motioning for her to put pressure on and around the wound he stood back up, noting how her eyes shifted to the motionless red hair, tears already forming. Although they must have fought in some wars, Quatre was certain that their petty fights with wands and magic were in no way as rough, as violent and painful as bombs and guns and the wars that Quatre and the others had fought in.
"Have you seen Trowa or Heero or any of them?" Quatre asked quickly. She did not reply, her breathing becoming rapid, sweat forming on her brow. Shock. Quatre smacked her.
"Hermione focus on me. Have you seen any of the others?" he asked calmly. He had to remember that she was just a civilian, not used to this form of warfare except for seeing it on the television in countries too far removed from the world she lived in for it to bother her.
"Um. I don't know. Maybe. Um I think I saw Duo go upstairs. Maybe for a sleep. I don't know about Trowa or Heero." She started taking deep breaths. Hands shaking as they pressed the wound closed. Her eyes kept sliding towards Ron, who as Quatre watched took a deep breath and shifted. He was alive.
"Everyone get into my office!" an authoritative voice loud and clear sounded over the pained groans. There had been more people in the house than he had realised. As he looked around, the adrenaline kicking in and his mind finally starting to quieten, he realised that quite a few of the people were dead, they had been too close to the point of impact. Too close to the epicentre. He recognised one of the Weasley twins. Fred it looked like. The Weasleys were going to be inconsolable. He couldn't think of that now.
"Duo!" he shouted as he turned and ran up the stairs, which were not steady and starting to fall. He jumped three at the time as the structure started to fall below his feet. He could do this, he was finally in control. As he jumped to the hall, his gun still in hand he rushed to the bedroom he shared with the others, the ringing nothing but an incessant buzzing he could handle.
"Duo!"
"Yeah I'm here," a groan followed by a cough.
"Jeez this really did a number on me. That was one hell of an explosion. I'm impressed," a strained laugh. As Quatre entered the room, he saw Duo sitting there, Wufei pressing sharply against his abdomen, the window having shattered inwards and Duo being the target it hit. He had had worse but Quatre still didn't like to see his friends injured.
"Are you ok?" Quatre rushed forward.
"Yeah I'll live. It takes more than a test explosion to kill the god of death," Duo laughed before coughing painfully when Wufei pressed even harder against his wound.
"A test explosion?"
"Look outside Quatre." Wufei spoke quietly as he tore up a sheet and wrapped it around Duo, tying it tightly.
Trowa Barton and Heero Yuy stood at the edge of the forest by the house, one with a stopwatch, the other with a pad and paper watching the entire scene. Quatre suddenly felt all strength leave him. He fell to the ground.
"They did this?"
"Of course they did. We have done this before Winner. We are with these people to fight in a war. Heero needs to know how they are going to handle actual warfare of our kind. At the same time we need to know whether our technology, our expertise are actually going to work in a magical environment." Wufei was matter of fact and Quatre sighed. It was true.
He fully understood the reasoning behind it. He understood why they couldn't warn any of them otherwise they would not have a true vision of how it would happen but still. Children were dead, innocents. He sighed once more. Maybe it had been silly, maybe it had been childish and foolish but Quatre had been treating this almost like a holiday, them playing war to help them sleep at night. Trowa and Heero actually going back to their deadly tests and scenarios just brought it all back. This was a real war and the perfect soldier was once more calling the shots. Quatre knew Trowa would follow Heero to the end of the earth if it meant winning the war. Heero did not believe in defeat.
"Did you see how big the explosion was?" Duo was excited wincing when his bouncing caused his wound to pull open and start to bleed.
"Maxwell will you sit still and wait until Barton or Yuy get in here to stitch you up?"
"But Wufei you saw it. The explosion mixed with the magical protection this place had. That was only meant to be a small one cylinder explosion and yet it had the power of a Gundam self-detonation!"
Quatre looked up quickly. That was interesting so the powerful properties of magic combined with the non-magical explosion to make it even deadlier. Maybe Trowa and Heero had not expected the explosion to be as dangerous or as deadly as it was. He looked once more out of the shattered window and watched with a sense of detached bemusement as Heero took out a knife and stabbed Trowa deep in the leg whilst Trowa slashed his own knife across Heero's abdomen. The things they would do to keep up appearances. They stumbled forward, their paperwork nowhere to be seen and made sure to fall just by the debris. Quatre leaned out, feeling the cool, crisp air brush through his hair. It was only upon feeling that breeze did he realise how hot he had been.
Heero and Trowa were carried in.
"Let's get them fixed up," it sounded like Remus Lupin's voice. It was the perfect cover. Not one of the wizards would consider that there was even the remote chance of any of the pilots setting off the detonation. Who would injure themselves that badly?
Quatre hated to admit it. He was impressed. That was why the two of them were the masters at espionage. Duo waved Quatre off a grin on his face knowing that the blonde was just itching to go and see if Trowa was alright. He hated anyone who he deemed under his protection get injured even if he knew they were perfectly capable of surviving worse than self-inflicted wounds. Quatre smiled and waved before jumping the large gap onto the stairs and ran down noting the direction that they had been taken.
It had seemed that Dumbledore's office had been expanded. It was three times larger than it had been, with beds stationed around the room, the thick scent of copper and burnt flesh that stuck to the hairs in one's nose made the air thick. Quatre stepped forward, screams of pain, screams of grief making him feel once more like he was home. His hands were steady.
"Mr Winner maybe this is not the time to be here," the woman, Pomfrey he was sure her name was, tried to usher him outside but he pushed past her towards Trowa and Heero who were calmly sat there awaiting to be seen.
Their hands were pressed against their wounds, their colour becoming pale and their hands twitching. Quatre could see the tell-tale signs of residue on their fingertips which they hadn't washed off. To the others it would seem just like a result from the explosion. Trowa looked up at Quatre. A blank stare seemingly to wait a telling off or some form of reprimand. Quatre shook his head. He just couldn't find the energy to care anymore. This was how Trowa and Heero were in the war, and Quatre understood that it was needed if they were going to win with the least amount of casualties. Trowa nodded soberly in return. Something unsaid but perfectly understood between them.
"I'm sure you boys can tell me what happened," Dumbledore stepped forward. He had seemed to age even further, his eyes shadowed as he heard the matriarch, Mrs Weasley scream for her son to wake.
"It seems sir the Voldemort has understood the use of muggles," Heero spoke calmly. Albus Dumbledore was the leader of the faction they were fighting in, as such; protocol dictated that he should only be addressed as sir. Heero followed the rules and his own code.
"Voldemort hates muggles."
"Yes that may be true but what you just witnessed was a muggle explosion. A large one made by specialists. Your protection spells that you promised you had surrounding this property are useless against these weapons. Voldemort has won this battle." Trowa was calm as the mediwitch came over and started waving her wand, skin and muscle stitching together in a strange slow motion movement. Quatre was fascinated. Magic could be really useful.
"How did he find out where we were?"
"If you are good enough a muggle can easily track a person with the right skills. We could do it even with magic hiding you. They just need to get past the wards and they shall see the house and set the explosion. To be perfectly honest it's incredibly clever," Heero spoke calmly as he too was medically fixed. Dumbledore looked perplexed and even the nurse seemed to pause to think of the implications. Quatre was impressed by their acting.
"I would never consider Voldemort able to work with muggles. He hates them." Remus Lupin had a calculating look in his eyes and Quatre realised he had severely underestimated the man who Trowa claimed thought too much with his heart to be a great threat. That seemed to be a mask that the man portrayed because with the way he looked at Trowa and Heero, with the way his eyes went feral and his fists clenched he seemed to realise just who had done the explosions. Quatre stepped forward and pressed the gun against Remus' back. He paled. Quatre was reminding him of exactly what had happened the first time they had all met and though he really did not like scaring people, even though he preferred to make friends with people he had to protect his friends first. They were more important to him. Remus stepped back and Quatre hid the gun noting the way that Trowa's lips upturned at the corners. He truly was aware of most things.
"It makes perfect sense. He may hate them but he hates you more. He knows your weakness is your love of muggles. You advocate them joining the magical world; you advocate their protection and as such make yourself seem like the good guys. If muggles start setting bombs off at magical residences then they become the enemy, you become the fools trying to protect them and Voldemort becomes the hero trying to protect the wizards from these vile and violent beings. It's a brilliant plan." Trowa was calm which made it easier for the wizards to accept his word as truth. Quatre inwardly applauded him. His acting was superb.
"I think we need to speak to Severus to see if this was the case." Dumbledore turned towards Remus who nodded in acceptance. Quatre saw Trowa smile slightly. Who was this Severus?
They walked off. Quatre walked towards Trowa and sat beside him.
"Well?" Quatre looked towards the both of them wondering which of them would explain themselves first.
"It was easier than we thought to set off and cause this much damage. It's useful to know that magic expands the bombs capabilities."
"Does it really matter? Trowa they are underprepared and overly emotional to think straight when they are attacked and their loved ones are hurt. They don't seem to understand the need to be able to shut off and realise that they and their friends will die on the battle field. That is war. Soldiers die in battle it is what we expect, what we are proud to do." Heero leaned closer to the two of them.
"It is obvious why they are losing." Trowa agreed standing up and stretching.
"Trowa can I talk to you?" Quatre placed a hand on Trowa's arm. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Heero nod and slip out of the room. This really wasn't the place or the time but he knew that they would soon be getting very busy. The war was going to ramp up and they wouldn't be able to have this conversation. He knew that Trowa would need to have his mind free as would they all.
No distractions.
"Is it that time already?" Trowa's voice was soft.
"It is. I think it's time we go back to the beginning," Quatre smiled as Trowa nodded in understanding. They would be going back as friends, as comrades.
Trowa walked past Quatre, his back straight eyes piercing. Quatre watched him go, his hand over his heart as he felt the anguish of Trowa even though he didn't show it. It was the best thing in the long run. They needed to be clear and this way Trowa could be the best as they could be.
The relationship was over. The war had finally begun and Quatre was relieved.
