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 has a break down and has to spend some time in the Hospital Wing.  Dumbledore has a talk with him and Ginny
makes a proposal.



Soldiers of Sorcery



Part Thirteen


Duo was worried and confused as hell.  As soon as Trowa had passed out, Quatre and the others had exploded into motion.  
Heero had run out of the room to seek out the Gryffindor prefect and both Wufei and Quatre were attempting to get Trowa onto
his bed . . . trying and failing miserably, because Trowa’s panther, Max, swatted at them each time.  He apparently saw the need
to protect Trowa and were treating everyone in the room as if they were threats.

Duo was sitting on his bed, his eyes wide as saucers as he watched the scene play out before him, as if he were just some
observer not meant to actually participate.  Then, Duo noticed as Trowa’s eyes began to flutter.  Duo leaned forward, but not
too close since he didn’t want to get his face swiped at by Max, and watched as Trowa slowly came to consciousness.

“Trowa . . . hey . . . are you okay?”  Duo asked.

Trowa’s eyes were glazed over with a terror that Duo had never seen before on his handsome face . . . he had always been so
calm, but now he looked positively terrified.  No, that wasn’t true, Duo thought as he looked back on the times he had spent in
Trowa’s company . . . he had seen Trowa this frightened before, it was when Trowa had had amnesia and hadn’t recognized
him.  He had been terrified of Duo then and Catherine had protected him.  This was not going to be good.

With a groan and a few whimpers, Trowa pushed himself to his feet and back up against the wall between the two beds, his
eyes darting around wildly.  Max backed up closer to Trowa, continuing to protect him.

Then all hell broke loose.  An echo of footsteps sounded as people ran up the stairs.  This made Trowa more nervous and he
started shaking, wrapping his arms around his stomach as he coughed.  Blood dribbled from the corners of his mouth, his face
contorted into a look of deep agony.  He had some serious injuries . . . Duo was getting quite scared.

Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall rushed into the room.  Several other people were right behind the two of them, mostly
people that Duo didn’t recognize.  “What’s going on?”  Professor McGonagall asked.  

“He’s hurt . . . but we can’t get near him.”  Wufei said, gesturing in Trowa’s direction.

“Oh my . . . what happened to him?”  Professor Dumbledore asked, taking a step closer only to be swatted at by Max.

“His sister . . . she didn’t want him coming here.  Neither did anyone she worked with.”  Quatre replied.  “At least that’s what
he told us on the train.”

“We’d best get him to the Hospital Wing.”  Professor Dumbledore stated.

Trowa stopped coughing, turning a glare at the people ahead of him.  “Stay away.”  He hissed, his voice sounding afraid.  “Just
stay the hell away from me!”  Duo’s eyes widened, taking in the sight of the blood that was quickly spreading around Trowa’s
hand, which was pressed firmly over his left side.  There was a serious injury there, something he had been hiding from
everyone.

Professor McGonagall apparently ignored his warning, since she took a step toward him.  “Now, come on, child . . . you have
to get your injuries tended to.  We only want to help you.”  She said quietly, moving slowly and with purpose.

“Don’t touch me.  Stay back.”  Trowa shivered.  He raised his shaking hands outward, facing the bloodstained palms at
McGonagall and appearing to be getting ready to fend her off.  Then suddenly, his eyes flickered, as if a deep green firework
had exploded within his beautiful emerald eyes.  “Go away!”  He yelled.  

It was like an invisible force had struck McGonagall.  Abruptly, she was propelled backward, right into Dumbledore, the both of
them falling to the stone floor in a tangle of robes and limbs.  Everyone in the room gasped in shock, watching as McGonagall
and Dumbledore struggled to get back to their feet.

“My, my . . . this is not good.  An untrained telekinetic . . . and a strong one too . . . quite a problem.”  Dumbledore muttered,
more to himself than anyone as he smoothed out the wrinkles in his robes.  “Minerva . . . perhaps a sleeping charm is in order.”

McGonagall nodded.  “Yes, of course.”  She responded, pulling out her wand.

Dumbledore sidestepped away from her, keeping his focus on Trowa.  “You look hurt, Mr. Barton . . . you really should go and
see Madam Pomfrey about those injuries.”  Dumbledore said.

Trowa looked to him, but continued to shiver, his breath ragged as he struggled to stay standing, his hands still held in front of
him as if he meant to throw any other threats to his safety across the room like he had with the professors.  All that was holding
him up was the wall most likely.  He looked ready to collapse at any moment.  The blood was spreading, Duo could see it
clearly, frowning deeply as he feared for Trowa’s health and life.

While Trowa’s attention was diverted by Dumbledore, McGonagall raised her wand and aimed it at him.  “Somnus artus.”  She
said firmly.

A moment later, Trowa crumbled to the floor, his eyes closed and his breathing slowing to an even pace.  Dumbledore took a
step toward him, but stopped as Max once again protected Trowa.  Apparently, the large cat had taken the spell as an attack
against Trowa, and felt the need to preserve Trowa’s safety.  Once again, McGonagall uttered her spell, and Max laid down on
the floor fast asleep a few seconds later.

Duo jumped to his feet, rolling Trowa over onto his back.  He pulled Trowa’s shirt up, gasping at the sight of a stab wound in
his side.  It had been stitched, probably by Trowa himself, but several of the stitches had broken.  Now the wound was bleeding
badly and looked infected.

Dumbledore knelt down on Trowa’s other side, McGonagall behind him.  “No, this does not look good at all.  A stab wound,
countless bruises.”  Dumbledore sighed.  Then he turned and looked over to the door.  “Serverus, let us a hand will you?”

A greasy looking man stepped forward.  Duo remembered him from earlier.  Quatre had nearly passed out just walking by him.  
The guy gave off nasty vibes even to Duo, and he wasn’t empathic like Quatre was.  The man silently strode over, kneeling for
a moment before picking Trowa up with care.  Then, just as quietly as he had entered, the man strode out of the room, carefully
carrying Trowa’s limp body.

Duo stood, wanting to follow the dark-haired man.  However, Dumbledore stopped him.  “Best let him get some rest tonight.  
You can visit him in the morning.  Madam Pomfrey is quite a capable physician.  She’ll have him back on his feet in no time.”

Duo nodded, but continued to watch as Trowa was carried out.  When he could no longer see Trowa, he dwelled in worry.  He
returned to his bed, sitting and staring at the floor.  He just couldn’t believe that Trowa had snapped like that . . . he had just had
a complete breakdown.  It had been surprising to say the least.  Guess Trowa wasn’t as calm and cool as he seemed.  This all
probably had to do with the past that Duo had caught a glimpse of all those months ago, the night Trowa had woken up from
that horrible nightmare in a bed beside Duo’s.  

Duo nodded to himself, knowing that whether Trowa liked it or not, he would help him.  He knew what it was like to deal with
this stuff, so who better to help him through it?  Duo would be there for him, but he wouldn’t push him into doing or saying
anything.  He wouldn’t overstep the bounds of friendship.  Trowa had to be free to make the first move or to back away.

Dumbledore and McGonagall ushered the crowd away, telling the four remaining in the room to get some rest.  Numbly, Duo
changed into something more comfortable to sleep in, forcing himself not to act shy in the presence of his friends.  They were
all busy getting themselves ready for bed to notice each other.  

Before he settled down to sleep, Duo glanced around at the other three ex-pilots.  Wufei was laying on his side with his eyes
closed, his kitten laying curled up on one of his hips.  Heero was resting with Odin in the crook of one arm.  And Quatre was
laying in bed, tear tracks marring his pale face.  Duo worried for the blonde.  With his empathic abilities, Quatre was not going
to have an easy time at this school, especially if he had to share a dorm room with his old comrades.


*****


Trowa awakened, feeling confused and disoriented.  For a moment he kept his eyes shut, not knowing what he would see upon
awakening.  The last thing he remembered, he had seen the blood on his palm and had passed out.  There was a vague memory
of something happening after that, but Trowa couldn’t quite grasp it.

Taking a breath, he winced, the movement paining his aching ribs terribly.  However, he was confused yet again, knowing that
there should be a good deal more pain.  Finally he forced his eyes open and looked down on himself, blinking as he took note of
the bandages wrapped around his body.  His eyes were a bit unfocused, but he knew bandages when he saw them.

A wave of fear washed over him and he looked around frantically.  This wasn’t his dormitory room.  This wasn’t the
Gryffindor tower.  Where were the others?  Why had he been brought here?  With hazy vision, Trowa gripped his blankets,
meaning to throw them off of himself and make an escape.  However, a hand clamped over his wrist, keeping him from
removing the blanket.

“Stay in bed.  You are in no condition to get up.”  A strange voice insisted.

Trowa panicked, wrenching his wrist free, turning painfully in another attempt to escape.  He didn’t want to be here.  No, there
were strangers here, people that wanted to touch him.  He had to get away before they hurt him.  He cried out in pain as he
rolled onto his side, his legs finding the edge of the bed and slipping over the side.  With shaking forearms, he struggled to push
himself up, his mind screaming at him to escape before something horrible happened to him.

Hands, more gentle than the one that had tried to stop him last time, fell on his shoulders, tenderly urging him to lie back.  
“Trowa, don’t.  You’ll hurt yourself worse if you get up.”  A more familiar voice whispered

Trowa flinched, retracting away from the contact.  However, he didn’t lie down.  He sat there on the edge of the bed, taking
slow deep breaths and blinking repeatedly to clear his eyes.  Once his vision focused, he saw that it was Ginny Weasley standing
in front of him, her concerned face looking down on him.

“What?  Where am I?”  He asked, his voice raw and broken.  

Trowa looked down at himself, noticing that his clothes were gone.  Where the blankets and bandages weren’t covering him, he
was nude.  He could clearly feel the soft fabric of the blanket rubbing across his upper thighs, where it barely covered his
groin.  Guess it was a good thing that he hadn’t been able to throw the blankets off of himself.  It would have been an
embarrassing scene, for Trowa to expose himself in front of Ginny.

“You’re in the Hospital Wing.  You passed out and were bleeding, not to mention a bit violent, so Professor McGonagall put you
under a sleep charm and had you brought down here.”  Ginny replied.  “Now, will you please lay down?”

Trowa nodded, then lay back in bed, his eyes drifting over to look at the other person in the room while Ginny adjusted the
blankets to further cover him.  “I was violent?”  Trowa asked, returning his attention to Ginny.

“Quite violent.  And that panther of yours wouldn’t let anyone near you.  I suppose he was just trying to protect you.  Now,
don’t ask me anymore, I promised Dumbledore that I wouldn’t tell you much of anything.  He wants to talk to you himself once
you’re feeling a bit better.”  Ginny said, lightly brushing her hand through Trowa’s bangs to move them out of his face.

Trowa flinched and jerked away, still not comfortable even with slight gestures of kindness such as that.  “Please don’t touch
me.”  Trowa whispered.

Ginny sighed.  “Someone really hurt you badly, didn’t they?”  She sighed again, but didn’t wait for an answer.  “I’d best let
Madam Pomfrey get back to her work.  She’s just here to help you get better, Trowa, so do as she says.  After class, I’ll come
back and visit with you some more.”  She stopped just before reaching the door and turned back.  “Oh, and don’t worry about
your classes.  Before I left the tower, I talked with your friends.  Duo said he’d take notes for you.”

Trowa nodded.  He looked over at the other woman in the room, Madam Pomfrey.  After she had made it quite obvious that
Trowa wasn’t going to be getting out of bed for a few days, she went about changing his bandages.  Trowa was quite surprised
to see that his stab wound was mostly healed, a number of his bruises faded.  Madam Pomfrey told him that it was due to a
number of potions she had concocted and the use of healing charms.  

When she finished with his bandages, she had Trowa drink something sweet that left a trail of warmth down his throat as he
swallowed it.  It made him tired, his eyelids turning into lead weights.  It wasn’t long until he fell into a dreamless and restful
sleep.

When Trowa awakened again, he was surprised to find a number of people around his bed.  Duo and the other ex-Gundam
pilots were there, as well as Ginny and Professor Dumbledore.  He blinked, a brief flicker of fear making itself known in Trowa’
s heart.

Then Duo smiled and set a number of books on Trowa’s lap.  “Here ya go, buddy . . . homework from Herbology and History
of Magic.  Haven’t been to any other classes yet, but after lunch we have Transfiguration with McGonagall.”

Trowa nodded, flipping through Duo’s notes idly.  “Thanks, Duo.”  He said quietly, his throat still a bit rough.

“The teachers have so far all agreed that you will be given adequate time to catch up on your work after you are allowed out of
the hospital wing.”  Heero informed him.

“So there’s no need to worry about falling behind.”  Quatre piped in, smiling.  However, Trowa did notice that his skin was a
few shades paler than normal.  Either he was reacting to something from Trowa, or he had not had a very good day.

“If you want, I’ll help you with my notes.”  Duo offered.  “I know my writing is terrible.”

“Yes, I would appreciate the help.”  Trowa answered, keeping his focus away from his friends.  He just felt too embarrassed.  
From what Ginny had told him that morning, he had made quite a scene.

Duo jumped in with more conversation, going over the happenings in class.  Quatre smiled and helped him out, keeping the
conversation lively.  If he was uncomfortable around Trowa, he didn’t show it one bit, none of them did.  Of course, for years
they had all gotten along well behind their own masks, it was no trouble to put them on once again.

They all had a good laugh over Heero’s misfortunes . . . if seemed as if Heero wasn’t so perfect after all.  But he had been a
good sport about it, smirking a bit when Duo lightly made fun of him.  They all knew that Duo meant no harm with his joking.

However, after a few minutes, Dumbledore cleared the room of Trowa’s guests, except for Ginny and himself.  Trowa’s
friends bid him farewell, leaving to go have their lunch then continue with the day’s classes.  Once they were all gone, Ginny sat
in a seat close to Trowa’s side, staying close but not touching him in any way.  Dumbledore took a position on Trowa’s other
side, sitting in a seat that had been supplied to him by Madam Pomfrey.  She hadn’t waited around either, going into her office
and closing the door to give the small group privacy.

Trowa felt nervous, knowing that something was about to be talked about that he probably wouldn’t enjoy.  This must be the
talk that Ginny had mentioned earlier.  It would most likely have something to do with what had transpired in the tower last night.

“Trowa . . . it is quite apparent that you have suffered through something most traumatic and it is our hope that we will be able
to help you.”  Dumbledore began.  “Now, I don’t expect you to just start gushing answers immediately.  However, I would like
to point out that Professor McGonagall, Miss Weasley, and I, will listen to you whenever you wish to talk with any of us.”

Trowa nodded.  “Okay.”  He whispered, fixing his gaze on a piece of lint on his blanket.  This was an uncomfortable situation.  
He wanted to get out and he wanted out now.  He just didn’t want to have to say anything.

“Now, about what happened last night . . .”  Dumbledore said.  “You showed quite an unusual talent, Trowa.”

At that, Trowa did look up, thinking that he must have misheard the old wizard.  “Talent?”  He asked, dumbfounded.

“Yes . . . when Professor McGonagall tried to approach to help you, you reacted by throwing her across the room and into me
without the use of your hands.”  Dumbledore replied.  “You have exceptionally strong telekinetic powers.”

Trowa was staring at Dumbledore, his eyes wide.  He had powers?  Him?  Before he had realized that he had opened his mouth,
he began muttering quietly.  “That must have been why  . . .”  Then he bit his lip, wincing as he realized the mistake he had
made.  He had just blurted out a personal secret, something he wished to hide from everyone.

Dumbledore’s hand set on his shoulder.  “What is it, Trowa?  If you’ve had a past experience with your powers, I should be
aware of it.”

Trowa sighed deeply.  He did not want to speak of this to anyone, let alone Dumbledore.  This would probably brand him as a
disgusting freak.  But he knew that he had to answer, to at least say something.  So he let it out, whispering his secrets quietly.  
“The night before I received the invitation to attend Hogwarts . . . I was attacked . . .”  He looked down, shame filling him
entirely.  “Assaulted.  But then it suddenly stopped and when I looked back, he was gone . . . lying over twenty feet away
unconscious.  At least I think he was unconscious.  I didn’t wait around to check and see.”

“When you say assaulted, you mean  . . . ?”  Dumbledore asked.

“Sexually.”  Trowa said without breath, closing his eyes against the onslaught of tears.  He felt Ginny’s hand on his arm, but
this time wanted to feel comfort.  For the first time in his life he was desperate for it.  He wanted to know that he wasn’t
disgusting, that she wouldn’t turn him away for what had happened to him.  With shaking arms he turned and sank into Ginny’s
embrace, hiding his bruised face on her shoulder as he silently wept.

She merely held him tenderly, her hands soft and warm on his bare back.  Ginny was kind, hushing him and holding him, not
giving him false promises that everything would be fine, but lending a shoulder to cry on, a way to vent the emotions he had
bottled up for so long.  She was everything that Catherine should have been, someone that cared about him despite who or what
he was.  He only wished that Catherine had been this considerate.

After several moments, where Trowa wept out the emotions that had plagued him for most of his life, he drew away from the
comfort that Ginny provided.  He ducked his head, ashamed that he had acted so childish in front of Professor Dumbledore.  
Ginny lifted his chin, gently cleaning the tears from his face with a handkerchief.

“It’s not wrong to shed tears, my boy.”  Dumbledore assured Trowa, setting his hand on Trowa’s shoulder.  “Don’t be
ashamed of them.”

Trowa nodded, but said nothing.

“Now, back to the business at hand.”  Dumbledore said.  “Now that we know you are a telekinetic, you must be trained so that
you can use your powers to their utmost potential.  If you wish, I could arrange a few sessions a week with a tutor.  It wouldn’
t interfere with schoolwork I assure you.”

“Yes, I’d like that.”  Trowa replied, blinking his eyes tiredly.

“I’ll make the arrangements.  Now, why don’t you get some rest?”  Dumbledore suggested, then stood and walked over to the
door.  “Oh, there’s someone that has been waiting quite a while to see you.”

“Someone to see me?”  Trowa asked, confused.  Who else would want to see him?  Everyone he knew had already visited.

Dumbledore smiled, then opened the door.  Trowa smiled, watching as Max strode into the room and over to his bed.  Max leapt
up, carefully sliding along the bed until he was laying at Trowa’s side, nuzzling against him gently as if to greet him.  “It’s good
to see you too, Max.”  Trowa smiled, petting Max’s soft fur with one hand.  When he looked up to the door to thank
Dumbledore, he found that the kind old wizard had already left.

“Trowa, can I ask you a question?”  Ginny asked timidly.

“Sure, go ahead.”  Trowa replied, his gaze focused on Max, enjoying the feel of the soft black fur beneath his fingers.

“Who beat you?  Who stabbed you?”

Trowa frowned.  However, for some reason he felt no need to keep it a secret, not when he had already told the others of this.  
“My sister is a performer in a circus . . . she throws knives.  She didn’t appreciate the idea of me attending Hogwarts, so she
and the entire circus troupe decided to give me a going away present.  She threw one of her knives at me.”  Trowa sighed,
looking away and closing his eyes as a tear fell along one cheek.  “The last thing she did was to slap me and spit in my face
before disowning me.”

“That’s horrible.  I may not like any of my brothers, but I’d never do something like that to them.”  Ginny replied, setting her
hand on Trowa’s shoulder again.

Trowa turned to look at her.  “How many brothers do you have?”

Ginny smiled proudly.  “Six of them, all older than me.  There’s Bill and Charlie, Percy . . . the twins Fred and George, and then
Ron.  All of them graduated Hogwarts.  Charlie’s in Romania studying dragons, Bill’s working for Gringotts, and Percy works
for the Ministry of Magic with our dad.  Fred and George went and opened a novelty joke shop . . . always were good at
making people laugh.  And Ron just sold his first book a few months back.  He’s not sure what he’s going to do yet, but he did
only graduate last year.”

“Must be nice to have family.”  Trowa mumbled.

Ginny shrugged.  “I guess.  But it was rough sometimes.  Mom and Dad, well there was barely enough to go around.  Ron was
always complaining about getting hand-me-downs from the others.”  Then she smiled.  “Still, I wouldn’t trade them for
anything.”

Trowa had nothing to say on the subject, so he merely nodded.

Ginny’s ears turned pink and she bit her bottom lip.  Then she asked Trowa a timid question.  “Uh, Trowa . . . do you . . . what
I mean is, would you like to be my brother?  I know we won’t really be related, but that really doesn’t matter when it comes to
family, I think.”

Trowa blushed.  “Me?”

“Of course.  I know you’ve been through a lot, and in times like these, it’s always good to have family to support you.”  Ginny
replied.  “It’s okay if you don’t want to . . . I won’t feel any differently.  You’ll still be my friend.”

“No, I think I’d like to have you as a sister.”  Trowa replied honestly.  Ginny so far had shown more care and consideration
than Catherine had.  She was more like a sister than his real one was.

Ginny smiled brightly.  “Great!  I’ve never had a younger brother before.”  With that, she hugged him, albeit gently.  When she
pulled away, she brushed her fingers through his hair again.  “Now, you go on and get some sleep.  I’ll come back and visit you
again later.  Tell you what, I’ll even smuggle you something from dinner.”

Trowa smiled, allowing Ginny to help him recline.  He settled on his side, his one arm wrapped around Max’s body, holding the
resting panther as he fell into sleep as well.  Ginny quietly tucked the blankets more snugly around his body before leaving him
alone and giving him the time that he needed to recover.



To Be Continued . . .