Disclaimers: I do not own either Gundam Wing or Harry Potter. I am making no money with this. This story is purely for
entertainment purposes only.
Notes: Duo’s apparent poor health is worried over. Then the meeting begins and things are explained. Heero finds out some
distressing news about his family.
Soldiers of Sorcery
Trowa looked up as he heard the door open once again. His jaw nearly dropped to the floor in shock when he saw Duo step
into the room. Damn, Duo looked good, Trowa thought, taking in the sight of the tight leather pants that hung around his slim
hips and the vest that Duo barely wore. His hair was a bit disheveled, clinging to glistening, wet skin. Trowa could almost feel
himself drooling, and had to turn his gaze away for a moment, taking a deep breath before he could look at Duo again.
The second time that he looked at Duo, worry invaded his heart. Without an overshadow of lust clouding his judgement, Trowa
could clearly see how pale and thin Duo really was. There were a number of bruises showing from beneath that vest and even a
few along the edge of his hairline. Duo looked weary and cold, his body shivering as he stood in the doorway. He looked ill and
weak. He was drenched in water from head to toe, but still smiled when he saw the people in front of him.
Just as he was taking a step into the room, he stopped, dropping his bag to the floor. An instant later, he followed his bag,
collapsing to the stone floor. Trowa was on his feet in an instant, but Professor Dumbledore held up his hand and told him to
stay put. Trowa grumbled but sat, not happy about being told not to help. Apparently, none of the others were happy about it
either, since he heard objections from both Wufei and Heero as to why they couldn’t go.
Hagrid moved across the room swiftly, easily sweeping Duo into his arms and carrying him like a rag doll over to the fireplace.
Trowa moved from his place in front of the fire, allowing Hagrid to set Duo down in his seat. He sat beside Quatre, watching
as Hagrid arranged Duo comfortably. Then Hagrid moved out of the way and Dumbledore knelt in front of Duo.
“He stinks.” Relena abruptly stated, chuckling a bit. “When was the last time he bathed?”
“Shut yer trap, girl!” Hagrid bellowed.
Relena glared, but shut up immediately. She didn’t look all that pleased to be spoken to like that. Of course, to Trowa it was
quite acceptable. The girl was nothing but annoying and he was happy that she had been yelled at for her ignorance.
“Munditia!” Dumbledore exclaimed with a flourish of his wand.
Trowa bit his lip to keep from gasping as Duo’s appearance was cleaned up. It looked as though he had just gotten a bath, yet
he was still sitting there. His skin had paled a bit, but glowed with a clean shine. He was still wet with rain, but he no longer
smelled of body odor, cigarettes, and trash. In fact, he smelled quite nice now . . . of lilacs and some other scent that Trowa
“Enneverate!” Dumbledore said.
A moment later, Duo’s eyes slowly blinked open. He looked around briefly, but stopped when his gaze had settled on Heero’s
puppy. He raised his hand to his face and groaned. “I knew I was going straight to Hell when I died.” He muttered.
“You aren’t dead.” Trowa said with a smirk.
“Oh really? Does that mean I’m drunk?” Duo asked, gesturing tiredly at the puppy.
Heero stroked his fingers along the puppy’s fur. “No . . . this is my dog.”
Duo sighed, leaning back against the chair and closing his eyes. “Oh . . . okay. You have a three-headed dog. That’s cool.”
Duo shrugged, breathing deeply.
Trowa smiled a little, glad to see that Duo hadn’t lost his sense of humor. Then his attention was diverted as Hagrid started
searching around in his coat for something. Eventually, he pulled out a blanket and settled it over Duo’s still shivering body.
Duo looked up at Hagrid and quietly thanked him, not saying a word about how huge the man was.
Hagrid nodded in reply and continued to root around in his coat, eventually pulling a full tea service from inside the coat. The
most surprising of this however, was the fact that Trowa could see steam rising from the teapot. Hagrid set the tray of teacups
on the small coffee table in the center of all the chairs, then reached into his coat once again, this time pulling out a plate piled
with what looked to be cakes of some kind.
“I think we should have our meeting here by the fire, to give Mr. Maxwell here some time to warm up.” Dumbledore said,
while Hagrid went about handing out cups of tea and cakes to everyone.
Duo blushed, looking down shyly as he sipped his tea. He didn’t look all that happy to be the center of attention. However, he
quickly appeared to get over it. Only a moment later, Duo all but swallowed his entire cake whole. It didn’t even look as if he
had chewed it . . . he had just inhaled it.
The seats were arranged in a semicircle around the fire, with Duo and Quatre closest to the flames since they were both
drenched from the rain. Everyone was facing where Dumbledore sat at the center or the semicircle, all of them waiting patiently
for the man to speak. They didn’t have to wait too long.
“I suppose you are all wondering why I asked you to meet me here?” Dumbledore said, gaining a number of affirmative
answers in reply. “Well, I’ve come to explain a few things to you. I am Headmaster at a school of wizardry. If you read your
letters, you will already know this. Some of you already know about Hogwarts, but the majority of you do not.”
He took a breath, looking around the room. “Now, Miss Catalonia has already attended Hogwarts, although briefly. She knows
the age you should be when starting your first term.”
“Eleven.” Dorothy said with a smug tone.
Dumbledore nodded. “Yes, eleven. Unfortunately, due to circumstances beyond her control, she had to drop out late in her first
year because of a family emergency.”
“Grandfather never did want me to attend. When he found out that my caretakers had allowed me to go he was furious.”
Dorothy sneered, turning away and lifting her nose.
“Yes, well you will be allowed to return, on the condition that you repeat your first year again.” Dumbledore said. Dorothy
made no reply this time, so he continued. “The rest of you, never attended Hogwarts.”
“Why were we sent the letters now?” Wufei asked. “Why not when we were eleven?”
Dumbledore sighed deeply. “You were all on the colonies when you were eleven, with the exception of Miss Dorlian, but we
had it on good authority from her brother when he was attending, that she was dead.”
“Dead?” Relena gasped. “Milliardo actually said I was dead?”
“I’m sure he only meant to protect you, Miss. We had no reason to mistrust him, since we had witnessed for ourselves the
destruction of the Sanc Kingdom, so we believed him.” The Professor stated. “Now, where was I. Oh yes, the rest of you.
Mr. Winner, you were living on L-4 with your family when you were eleven. Mr. Chang you were on L-5 doing the same. Mr.
Maxwell, I’m sorry to say was on the streets of L-2. Mr. Yuy was training with some scientist on L-1, and Mr. Barton was
working a job with his fellow mercenaries somewhere on L-3. I am right in all these cases, am I not?”
Trowa looked down, but answered with a quiet, “Yes,” barely hearing as the others replied similarly. He didn’t like thinking of
the mercenaries or his past . . . he didn’t like the memories that were brought up.
“Unfortunately, during this time, the colonies and Earth were not on speaking terms to say the least. We at Hogwarts and
several of the other wizardry schools, felt it would be safer for you if your letters were held until circumstances became safer.
We didn’t want our students to risk their lives traveling from their homes to the school or vice versa. We did not know that it
would last so long for the Earth and colonies to be at peace once again.” Dumbledore sighed again.
“However, all of you have had places reserved for you at Hogwarts for the past five years, even though none of you are native
of England. Exceptions were made in your cases, seeing as how none of you are really from anywhere on earth.” Dumbledore
said, pausing to take a sip of his tea. “Any questions so far?”
“Yes, how is it you know my real name?” Heero asked.
Trowa nodded. “And mine?”
Dumbledore smiled. “I know more than you think. With the exception of Mr. Barton, all of you have had a family member
attend Hogwarts in the past. Your parents, Mr. Barton . . . or should I call you by your real name, Triton Bloom . . . are what
we refer to in the wizarding world as Muggles, people who can’t use magic.”
“I'd prefer you not call me that.” Trowa replied, not sure if he wanted to use the name or not.
Dumbledore nodded, and smiled. He turned his gaze to Wufei. “Mr. Chang, your father Shengli was quite a talented young
wizard . . . married a pretty Muggle woman if I recall correctly. I was sorry to hear of their deaths.”
Wufei nodded, but said nothing.
Dumbledore cast saddened eyes in Quatre’s direction. “Mr. Winner, your mother, Quaterine . . . well, I’d never before met
such a kind-natured girl such as her. She was a wonderful student, and quite a talented witch. It was a shame how frail she
was . . . not even magic could help her in the end.”
Quatre bowed his head, sniffling sadly. Trowa saw a stray tear fall from one of the blonde’s eyes.
“Mr. Maxwell . . . Daniel Cassell . . . both of your parents, Miranda and Thomas, were skilled in the use of magic. A tragedy
what happened to them.” Dumbledore said, shaking his head.
Then he looked at Heero, a smirk appearing on his face for a brief moment. “And Mr. Yuy . . . no, your name is Yosei Lowe, if
I’m not mistaken. Your parents, Kirei and Odin were two of the finest people I had ever known. Top of their class . . . Head
Girl and Head Boy in their day. I would like to have a word with you about them once this meeting is concluded.”
“Okay.” Heero replied, his face showing confusion.
“And as I have already said, Miss Dorlian, your brother attended our school under the name of Zechs Merquise. He was an
average student, but quite skilled on the Quidditch field.” Dumbledore said. “Now, to get on to the next subject. You will not
be treated exactly like our regular first year students. Given your age, the other faculty and I thought that it would be best for
you not to be singled out for the sorting ceremony. So we will have the ceremony here and now.”
“Sorting?” Duo asked, tiredly.
Dorothy huffed. “Into the school houses, isn’t that right, Professor?”
Dumbledore nodded. “Quite right. The school body is split into four houses where you will live for the school year.
Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Miss Catalonia has already been sorted and it has been decided that she will
stay in the house she was put into before, Slytherin.”
“Good.” Dorothy smirked, a cruel glint in her eyes. Trowa got the distinct impression that he did not want to be in Slytherin.
Dumbledore reached into his robe and pulled out a battered old hat. He handed it to Hagrid, then pulled out a piece of parchment
and a quill pen. He looked to be getting ready to take a few notes. “No need to have the rhyme said, you’ll all hear it during the
official ceremony for the other first year students.”
Hagrid went around the group, placing the old hat on each head. When it spoke for the first time, Quatre nearly jumped through
the roof. It wasn’t normal for any of them, well except for Dorothy and Wufei it seemed . . . neither of them had looked the
least bit surprised by the talking hat.
Trowa didn’t like the feel of the hat on his head, although he couldn’t explain his reason . . . nor did he enjoy the fact that it
could speak. It just seemed weird. When the hat was returned to Dumbledore, everyone had been placed in their houses.
Relena joined Dorothy in Slytherin, while the five ex-pilots were placed into Gryffindor. Dumbledore seemed rather pleased with
the results and smiled as he put his things away.
“If you’ll all follow Hagrid, he’ll show you the way to Diagon Alley, where you can buy your school supplies and anything else
you could need. Most of you have accounts in Gringotts, the wizard bank.” Dumbledore said, rising from his seat.
Trowa and the others also stood, well all of them except for Heero. Duo shook off the blanket that he had been given, looking a
bit woozy as he walked out of the room. Trowa decided to stay close to the American, not wanting to see him get injured in
some way. As he followed his friends out of the building and into the alley, where it had stopped raining, he silently wondered
how he was going to pay for any of this stuff. If his parents were . . . Muggles . . . as Dumbledore had said, then he wouldn’t
have an account in this wizard’s bank.
Heero waited in his seat while the others left. Then he looked up at Dumbledore, wondering what the man wanted to say. He
idly petted Odin’s heads, not sure if he should ask or whether the old wizard would just blurt out what he wanted to say.
After several long moments, Dumbledore finally sat in front of Heero, sighing before he met Heero’s gaze. “I have a matter to
speak with you of the utmost importance, Heero. It concerns your parents.”
Heero nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment. He didn’t know what he was about to hear, but for some reason he was
sure that he wouldn’t like it. There was just something about the man’s concerned look that warned Heero of trouble.
“Your mother, Kirei, is alive.” Dumbledore said.
“M-My mother?” He asked, not sure that he had heard correctly. Never in all the years when he had been traveling with his
father had there ever been mention that his mother had been alive. He had just assumed her to be dead all of these years.
“Where is she? Can I see her?” He asked, even before he had known he had spoken.
Dumbledore sighed again, and shook his head sadly. “I'm afraid that now is not the right time for this. After you’re settled in at
Hogwarts, I can make arrangements for you to visit her. I have to warn you though, you may not like what you find.”
“What do you mean, sir?” Heero asked, wary about learning the truth.
“It happened during a time when the wizarding world was still recovering from the cruelty of a particularly evil wizard named
Voldemort, that preyed on wizard and Muggle alike. No one seemed to notice that another was gaining power in his wake. It
was almost five years after Voldemort’s apparent death . . . and you were but a child, only three years of age. There was a
good deal of confusion and Apox used it to his advantage. A young witch was nearly sacrificed in a ceremony meant to imbue
Apox with a good deal of power about three years prior . . . enough power so that he would gain immortality and rule where
Voldemort had failed. Thankfully, Apox did not succeed in that attempt.” Dumbledore said.
“What does this have to do with my mother?” Heero asked, feeling confused.
Dumbledore sighed. “Your mother, and a number of other witches and wizards, were sent to stop Apox once and for all. He
killed many, hurt others. But he attacked her with the Cruciatus Curse, one of the three Unforgivable Curses. It is forbidden to
use these curses on other wizards or Muggles. The Cruciatus Curse causes extreme, agonizing pain and unfortunately when
done too many times for too long, can cause insanity . . . and that was the case with your mother, unfortunately. Your mother
is a patient in St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. She’s been there, unaware of her surroundings, for the
past thirteen years.”
Heero gasped, shaking his head. He didn’t want to believe this. First he had been told that he had a mother, and then his hopes
were all crushed. His mother was a mental patient. “Why did you bother telling me this?” Heero asked, rising to his feet
quickly, holding Odin against him as he felt the burning tears threaten to fall from his eyes.
“I wanted to inform you of your past, Yosei Lowe. As much as you have denied it in your life, it is a part of you.” Dumbledore
said, setting a sympathetic hand on Heero’s shoulder. “When he heard what happened to your mother, Odin Lowe took you
away and hid you among the Muggles . . . he turned his back on everything he had ever known in the hopes of protecting you
from Apox. Apox had the unpleasant habit of going after the family members of his victims.”
“Where is this Apox now?” Heero asked, cutting Dumbledore off before he had finished speaking.
Dumbledore shook his head. “He disappeared ten years ago. No one in the Ministry of Magic thought he was much of a threat
. . . the fools . . . but he hasn’t shown his face once in these past years. He could be dead, he could be alive . . . no one is really
Heero bowed his head, fighting away his tears. He wouldn’t cry over a mother he had never known. He was stronger than
that. “Thank you for telling me about my mother.” He said quietly, his voice a cold monotone.
Dumbledore’s hand slid down his arm, holding it just above his elbow. “Allow me to help you with your puppy.” The kind
Heero looked up at the man, confused once again. “What do you mean?” He asked.
“Well, you can’t really go walking around Muggle streets with a three-headed puppy.” Dumbledore stated. “I can help with
Heero nodded unsurely, watching the man with one raised eyebrow. “Go ahead.” He said, holding Odin out.
“Opinio falsa!” He said, tapping his wand on one of Odin’s heads.
The puppy sneezed, but Heero saw no other effects. “What did it do?” He asked, looking at Odin curiously.
“Nothing that you can see, my boy. From now on, Muggles will see a one-headed dog instead of one with three heads. That
way you can take him out without having to worry about being gawked at wherever you go.” Dumbledore replied.
“Thank you.” Heero said, cradling Odin in his arms and heading to the door. He paused before he got there though, turning
back to look at Dumbledore. “Where is this Gringotts?” He asked.
Dumbledore smirked. “I’ll show you. Then you can catch up with your friends and get your school things.” The Professor
said, taking hold of one of Heero’s arms and leading him out of the room, into the narrow alleyway, then beyond it.
To Be Continued . . .