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:  Trowa wakes up in the motel room and heads to catch his train on time.

Soldiers of Sorcery

Part Eleven

Trowa awakened, hearing an odd growling sound from somewhere in the room.  Blearily, he opened his eyes, curious as to
what was making the noise.  After a moment, he became aware of the coldness of the bed around him, as if something were
missing.  He was sure that there had been a warm body beside his when he had gone to sleep.

“Max?”  Trowa called out weakly, looking around and blinking his unfocused eyes.

When Trowa’s vision finally cleared, he was met with a most unexpected sight.  Cowering in one corner of the room, was the
motel clerk.  Standing between where Trowa was laying and where the man was, Max was standing, hissing and making a
general fuss.  Apparently the man had come in sometime during the night and Max was protecting Trowa from whatever he had
intended.  Once again, Trowa was grateful for the presence of his feline friend.

Slowly, Trowa pushed himself to a sitting position, hissing in pain as his injuries ached, a wave of nausea passing through him
before he could manage to get upright.  He paused, cradling his head in his hands, his gun still clutched in one hand.  He didn’t
mind the feel of the cold metal barrel against his skin, in fact it was quite refreshing.  It was better to focus on that than it was
to focus on the pain.

Trowa moved carefully, reaching over to the side of the bed and picking up his backpack.  He opened it, pulling out a number of
loose clothes, unlike his usual tight jeans or turtleneck.  Considering his injuries, he felt it would be better to not wear
constrictive garments, so he dressed in a T-shirt and a loose pair of jeans, not to mention boxers and socks.

“Hey Mister, you gonna help me out or what?”  The cowering man asked from where he was pressed into a corner.  Max
swiped at him, missing by several feet.  But still the action was effective.  The clerk flinched and jerked away, shivering as he
pressed himself even further back against that wall.

Trowa shook his head, getting his boxers on, then attempting to pull on his jeans as well.  It was difficult, his injuries impeding
his progress somewhat, but he did it.  Once he had them on, he glanced over to the man.  “Tell me . . . Did you come here to
rob me or rape me?”  Trowa asked, biting back a groan of pain as he pulled his shirt on over his head.

“Neither . . . I swear.  You looked bad last night.  I just wanted to see if you were dead or not.”  The man replied.  “Can you
call off your . . . cat?”

Trowa sighed, grabbing the clothes that he had been wearing the previous night and examining them.  They were useless, those
bloodstains would never come out.  So he tossed them in the trash.  He slipped his gun and first-aid kit into his backpack.  Then
he closed it, slowly swinging the strap over one of his shoulders.

Silently, he trudged over to the door, feeling too weary to lift his feet too far from the floor.  He glanced at his watch, grateful
that he hadn’t slept too late, but still he had to get moving if he wanted to meet the train on time.  He reached out, opening the
door.  Then he looked back.  “Come on, Max.”  He said, turning and walking out of the motel room without sparing a single
glance back.

As he walked back to his truck, Trowa pressed his hand over the stab wound in his side, finding that it was aching him terribly,
not to mention the waves of pain from his other injuries, that crashed through him with every move he made.  He smirked
though, watching as Max bounded ahead of him, leaping through the open window of the truck and into the passenger’s seat.  
He was glad that Max seemed so eager to go.  Within a few minutes, Trowa had gotten in the truck and started it, heading back
out onto the highway as he made his way to the train station.

Several hours later, Trowa parked his truck.  He sighed, leaning forward and setting his forehead against the edge of his steering
wheel.  He just felt so tired.  He wasn’t sure if he could drag his trunk all the way to the train . . . his body was just so sore and

However, he eventually dragged himself from the truck after rolling the windows shut.  He held the door open so that Max could
get out, then closed and locked the door.  He didn’t know if it would be towed by the time he got out of school or not.  It didn’t
really matter anyway . . . it was just a mode of transportation and nothing more.  

He went around to the back of the truck, his pack slung over his shoulder.  Trowa attempted to pull his trunk free.  However,
he barely got it to move an inch before he had to let go, his eyes clenching shut as he gasped in pain.  He curled his one arm
around him stomach, wincing as his injuries ached, his wound throbbing in protest to the strain of his movements.  Beads of
sweat broke out along his forehead.

“Are you okay there?”  A woman’s voice asked.

Trowa turned, looking to see a young woman standing near him.  She was slim and had flaming red hair.  He took a step back,
not feeling comfortable with how close she was to him.  “Who are you?”  Trowa asked, trying to keep his calm facade in
place.  Max took a position in front of Trowa, blocking the path in front of the young woman, apparently protecting Trowa
once again.

“I’m Ginny Weasley.”  She smiled.  “You going to Hogwarts?”

Trowa nodded.  “Yes.”

“I’m going to be in my seventh year . . . my last.  I don’t recall seeing you before.  I guess you’re one of those special first
years my dad was telling me about.  Dad’s a Ministry official, he hears all the best gossip.”  Ginny said, continuing to smile.  
Then she looked him over, as if examining his injuries.  “Let me guess . . . your family didn’t approve of you attending
Hogwarts?”  She walked over, being careful to avoid Max as she pulled Trowa’s trunk out of his truck.

“No, my sister did not take the news well.”  Trowa sighed, watching as Ginny helped to unload his stuff, his hand placed on the
side of his truck to brace himself.  He worried that he might fall over if he didn’t keep his hand there.

“Ginny, where’d you run off to?”  A voice called out.  Trowa turned, watching as a plump woman walked over, pushing a large
trunk similar to Trowa’s in front of her.  “There you are, Ginny.  You shouldn’t go wandering off, don’t want you getting lost
in a Muggle city and missing the train.”

“Sorry, Mum . . . but I just thought he needed some help.  He was having trouble getting his trunk.”  Ginny replied, gesturing
toward Trowa.

Mrs. Weasley looked at Trowa and paled a bit.  “Oh dear, you look quite a mess.”  She said, approaching and pulling out a
handkerchief.  “You’re bleeding a bit.”  She said, dabbing the cloth against the side of his forehead gently.

Ginny smiled at Trowa apologetically.  “Sorry about my mum, she tends to fuss.  Oh, you never told me your name.”

Trowa backed away from Mrs. Weasley, not truly comfortable with her touching him.  “I-I’m Trowa . . . Trowa Barton.”  
Trowa replied.  He held up his hand to keep the kind woman back.  “I’m fine, really I am.”  He said, trying to avoid any more
physical contact.

“Come on, we’ll show you the way to the train.”  Ginny said, taking Trowa’s trunk with her.  Mrs. Weasley smiled and nodded,
following behind her daughter.

Trowa just sighed and shrugged, not seeing any other alternative.  “I guess we should follow them.”  He said, smirking down at
Max.  Then he followed the two women, knowing that Max was walking beside him.

He was quite surprised when he found that he had to walk through a partition to get to the correct platform.  It just seemed so
odd . . . of course to get to Diagon Alley he had watched a wall turn into an archway, so it wasn’t all that strange if he thought
about it.  Ginny went first, then Trowa followed.  He had closed his eyes, unsure if this was really something he should be
doing, but when he opened his eyes he smiled, finding the scene before him to be much more to his liking.

In front of Trowa was a scarlet steam engine.  Next to it was a platform packed with people.  A sign overheard clearly
expressed that this indeed was the right place, telling him that the train was the Hogwarts Express and that it was scheduled to
leave at eleven o’clock.  Looking back, he saw a wrought-iron archway where the partition had been, with the words ‘Platform
Nine and Three-Quarters’ on it.  He was in the right place and thankful for it.

He stepped forward, wary of the people that he saw crowding the platform.  Behind him, Mrs. Weasley came through with
Ginny’s trunk and Max was not too far behind her.  There didn’t seem to be many people on the train yet . . . perhaps Trowa
was just a good deal early.  But still, he would rather be early and wait than late and unable to attend Hogwarts.

“Come on, let’s get you a compartment on the train.  I think you’d prefer to have one to yourself.”  Ginny said, smiling back at

Trowa nodded, his arm still wrapped around his aching ribs as he followed her.  “Yes, I would prefer to be alone.”  He
responded quietly, his eyes darting around at the other people.  He quickly sidestepped or dodged when someone got too close to
him, not wanting to be touched even by accident.  Max hissed or growled, clearing the way ahead of Trowa, parting the crowd
to make it easier for him to get through.  He didn’t like the attention that it drew to him, yet he was glad not to have to come into
contact with anyone.

When they reached the train, Ginny dragged Trowa’s trunk up into the last carriage, pausing to speak with her mother.  “I’ll just
get him settled in a compartment and then I’ll come out for my stuff.”

“Alright, Ginny dear.  I’ll just wait here.”  Mrs. Weasley replied.

Max hopped onto the train, following Ginny.  Trowa followed his friend, trusting that Max wasn’t leading him into a dangerous
situation.  He hoped that Hogwarts was a good place, not wanting to be hurt again.  Ginny led Trowa and Max into the last
compartment.  “You should get your robes out now, you’ll just have to change into them on the way.”  She said, smiling
sweetly.  “Mind if I . . . ?”  She asked, gesturing to his trunk.

“No, go ahead.”  Trowa replied, waving his hand and motioning her ahead.

Ginny nodded and opened his trunk, pulling out a set of his robes.  She shook them to get rid of any wrinkles, then set them on
one of the seats.  A moment later, she closed his trunk again, and then heaved it up onto one of the luggage racks.  Max leapt up
onto the rack as well, hiding himself behind Trowa’s trunk.

Ginny shook her head, smirking at the way that Max had hidden himself, then she said goodbye to Trowa quietly.  “It was nice
meeting you, Trowa.”  She said.

“Thank you for your help.”  Trowa sighed, taking a seat in the corner by the window so that he could face the door.  Sitting
here, he could see anyone that came to the door of the compartment.  Being in the last one, no one could sneak up on him.

Ginny smiled.  “It was no trouble really.  One of my brothers, Ron, he had a friend that got hurt by Muggles . . . he lived with a
family of really mean ones.  Nicest guy I ever met though . . . he graduated Hogwarts just last year actually, was Head Boy too.  
Well, I’ll leave you alone now.  Mum’s probably wondering where I got to.  See you at school, Trowa.”  With that said, she
was gone.

Trowa sighed, leaning his head back.  He closed his eyes, hoping that this wouldn’t be too long a trip.  All he really wanted to do
was get to wherever he had to go and get some sleep.  A deep sense of weariness had descended upon him.  However, he wasn’
t about to go to sleep when he knew that he wasn’t alone.  Someone could approach him while he was vulnerable and do
something unpleasant to him.  So he forced his eyes to open, turning his gaze to look out the window and watch as other
students were ushered onto the train by their parents.

A loud curse from a familiar voice caught Trowa’s attention and he turned to the door just in time to watch Duo drag his trunk
into the compartment with one hand, his other hand occupied with carrying his owl’s cage.  Duo stowed his trunk up on the
rack next to Trowa’s then turned his attention to Trowa for the first time.  “Ouch!  You okay?”  He asked, apparently having
taken note of the injuries on Trowa’s body.

“I’m fine.”  Trowa replied, keeping a careful watch on Duo.  His recent experiences with those he had once trusted had
tarnished what little trust he had left in humanity.  He didn’t want anyone touching him, not even Duo at this point.

Duo nodded.  “Cool.  Mind if I sit next to you?”  He asked, setting Midnight’s cage on the floor near Trowa.

Trowa narrowed his gaze, looking at Duo untrustingly.  “Why?”  He asked, pressing his body further into the corner.  He didn’t
know why he was so nervous really . . . Duo was a friend.

Duo shrugged.  “Going backwards gives me motion sickness, and you’ve already experienced the Maxwell Vomit.  I thought I’d
spare you a second show.”  He replied casually.

Trowa thought it over for a moment, then nodded hesitantly, picking up his robes and folding them.  He set them on his other
side, watching as Duo took the seat beside him.  Duo smiled, then turned his attention to Midnight, making sure his owl was

“Quatre should be here any minute.  I kinda lost him in the crowd.”  Duo said, leaning back in his seat, keeping a reasonable
space between them.

Duo had barely gotten the words out of his mouth before Quatre appeared in the doorway, sighing in apparent relief.  “Thank
Allah, I’ve finally found you.”  He said.  “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Duo.”  

“Sorry, I got excited and lost sight of you.”  Duo apologized.

Quatre shook his head.  “No problem, I’ve found you now.”  He replied, setting his owl’s cage on the seat opposite Trowa and
stowing his trunk.  A moment later, he picked up Zaki’s cage and sat, resting Zaki’s cage on his lap.  “Are you okay, Trowa?”  
He asked, his voice laced with concern as he looked around the cage at Trowa.  

“It’s nothing.”  Trowa said, turning his gaze away to look out the window.  He noticed that there weren’t many people out there
anymore, just a load of waving parents really.

“Do you mind if we join you?”  A voice from the doorway requested.  “The rest of the train is full.”

Trowa turned, finding the newcomers to be Wufei and Heero.  “Sure, the more the merrier.”  He said, although he didn’t mean it
in the least.

Only minutes after Heero and Wufei had stowed their trunks and took their seats, the train pulled out of the station.  Wufei took
a number of glances at Trowa, but neither he nor Heero said a word or asked anything.

Trowa was getting tired of the concerned looks, so finally decided to explain his injuries.  “If you are all so curious . . .
Catherine and the other troupe members didn’t appreciate the fact that I am going to Hogwarts.”  Trowa said, his gaze focused
on the window.  “They ganged up on me and decided to give me a proper sendoff.”  He hissed bitterly.  “Catherine never was
the forgiving type, not even to her only brother.”

“So you really are related then?”  Quatre asked quietly.

“Not anymore.  She disowned me.”  Trowa replied.  “But yes, the blood tests showed that we are blood related.”  He denied the
tears that burned his eyes, fighting them back despite the almost intolerable urge to let them flow.  He was deeply hurt, knowing
that the only family he had ever known had turned against him.  His only sister had betrayed him.

No one said anything more on the subject.  The silence was comforting to Trowa.  He was glad that none of them were pushing
the matter, or apologizing for things they could not do anything about.  He stared out the window, watching as the scenery
passed by, wondering how long the ride to Hogwarts would take.  He didn’t even realize as his eyes slipped shut, his head
leaning against the wall as he fell into a slumber . . . his body and mind were just too tired to keep him awake any longer.

To Be Continued . . .