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:  Quatre heads to the Astronomy tower with his owl to relax and find some distraction from his problems.  Harry tries to
help him with his problems.  Lime in this part, and the first of the pairings is introduced.  There’s angst in this part as well.

Soldiers of Sorcery

Part Twenty-One

Quatre wiped his tears aside with the back of his hand as he rushed into the owlry.  He looked around, his fingers briefly
clenching tighter around the handle of the case that he carried.  Then he saw Zaki and smiled.  His smile quickly faded however,
and he quickly strode over to where his owl was perched.  

“I hope I am not disturbing you, Zaki . . . my friend.”  Quatre said, gently brushing his fingers along the feathers of Zaki’s one

Zaki hooted, affectionately nipping at his fingers before hopping onto his arm.  

“I take it that you want to go with me?”  Quatre jested, tears dripping from his eyes over Heero’s poor health.  

He shook his head, feeling a need to distract himself and soon.  He just had to do something to get his mind off of his troubles
and there was only one thing he knew of that would possibly be able to do it.  But he would rather have company, and Zaki
would be perfect.  Not only would he listen, but he wouldn’t make fun or joke about Quatre’s fears over his friends.

“Come, I found someplace more secluded . . . I wouldn’t want to bother anyone else.”  Quatre said, walking out of the owlry
and along the corridors of the castle.  

Soon Quatre arrived at his destination.  It was the Astronomy Tower, where once a week he and his classmates gazed at the
night sky and observed the planets and stars.  Quatre set Zaki down on a tall perch that he had brought up here earlier, watching
with amusement as the pure white owl ruffled his feathers and stretched his wings before settling down.

Quatre knelt, flipping open the catches on his case.  He lovingly slid his hand along the surface of his violin, glad that he had
brought it with him to Hogwarts.  He lifted it from his case, as well as the bow.  Carefully, he tucked it under his chin, adjusting
his fingering before drawing the bow across the strings, letting his heart and soul pour out with every note that he played.  He
closed his eyes, completely losing himself in the emotions he exuded with each and every motion of his fingers and the bow,
telling anyone within hearing distance just how he was feeling at the moment.


Harry paused in his stroll to his private rooms, hearing something strangely entrancing.  He knew the sound from somewhere,
but couldn’t quite place what it was.  However, he did know that whatever it was, it was beautiful.  He decided to follow it and
find out where it was coming from, and who was making it.

He came to the Astronomy Tower and paused, seeing that it was one of his students, Quatre Winner, that was making such
beautiful music.  He was playing a violin and quite skillfully, the melody reaching into Harry’s soul and making it ache at just
how melancholy it sounded.  He was close to tears as he listened to the soulful tune.

Quatre was deeply absorbed in his playing, his eyes closed.  Tears fell from his eyes, giving away the fact that he was playing
his own emotions, as if his heart was in control of the instrument that he so lovingly handled.  However, as Quatre continued to
play, Harry became increasingly worried.  If the young man was as depressed as his music sounded . . . then perhaps Harry
should stick around and find out if he was okay or not.  Maybe he should talk with Quatre and discover what problem was
plaguing the youth.

Harry figured that there could be one of three things wrong with Quatre.  Family troubles, problems with one of his friends, or
love problems.  Harry shook his head and ruled love out.  The blonde had shown no interest to anyone to Harry’s knowledge,
and Harry would have heard the gossip from the students or one of the ghosts.  He ruled out family as well.  From what he’d
heard, Quatre sisters, and it seemed that he had many of them, all supported him and were very happy for him.  That left
problems with one of his friends.  After a moment of thought, Harry deduced that something had happened to the one that had
been absent from class earlier . . . Heero Yuy.  Harry briefly wondered what it was with that group.  Almost all of them had
spent some time in the Hospital Wing, and only within the first two weeks of the school term.

Harry was so lost in thought that he almost missed when Quatre stopped playing.  The owl that Quatre had been playing too
affectionately nipped at Quatre, as if praising him for his wonderful playing.  Harry thought that was quite a good idea.  
However, instead of nipping, he applauded the skills the youth had shown.

Quatre turned quickly, nearly tripping as he gasped in surprise.  Apparently, he hadn’t expected anyone but his owl to be his
audience.  Slowly, he calmed, seeing that it was Harry that was clapping for his violin performance.  A blush crept across
Quatre’s features while he knelt and set his violin back in its case.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were there.”  Quatre said,
closing the lid.  “I hope I didn’t disturb you.”

“Don’t apologize.  You play beautifully.”  Harry replied, taking a step toward Quatre.

Quatre blushed.  “Thanks.  Although I’ve often been told that I play well, there’s a part of me that has never truly believed it.”

Harry chuckled.  From his experience with Ron, he gathered that Quatre had gotten a great deal of familial praise.  Ron had once
told him that when a family member told you that something you did was the greatest thing ever, it was usually a biased opinion
and you shrugged it off because the praise came from someone you knew to be unobjective in the matter.

“Well, you should believe it, but try to stay humble.  It suits you.  Is something wrong?  You were quite distracted in my class
and you look deeply troubled.”  He frowned a little as he approached, his eyes catching sight of a few minor injuries.  Quatre’s
fingers were raw and a few of them were bleeding.  “You must really be upset.”  Harry commented.  “Here, let me see.”  He
urged, gently taking hold of his hands and turning them palms up.  He took out his wand and murmured a small healing charm
that he knew and nodded in satisfaction when the skin healed before his eyes.

“Thank you.”  Quatre whispered, smiling just barely.

Harry put his wand away and set his hand on Quatre’s shoulder lightly.  “Now . . . what’s wrong?”

Quatre shrugged.  “I just . . . I needed a distraction.  I didn’t want to bother anyone, so I came here.”

Harry shook his head.  “That didn’t answer my question.  Now, shall I guess?”  At Quatre’s silence, Harry nodded, taking the
lack of response as a yes.  “Let’s see, my guess would be that you are worried.  Most likely about Heero Yuy, since he was the
one absent from my class this afternoon.  What happened?”

Quatre blinked, looking genuinely surprised.  “You haven’t heard?  I would have thought one of the Slytherin students would be
laughing up a storm about it . . . especially Relena.”

Harry sighed, shaking his head.  “I tend to not listen to them.  They love saying anything that might be juicy gossip even if it
doesn’t have a whiff of truth to it.  What happened to Mr. Yuy?”

Quatre hesitated, but eventually he spoke up.  Harry just listened as Quatre told him about the broomstick incident, as well as the
charm that was cast on Heero.  He didn’t quite like the sound of all those injuries Quatre detailed.  Heero was most likely in a
good deal of pain.

When Quatre finished speaking, Harry offered what he hoped was a comforting smile.  “Well, it sounds to me like Professor
Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey have everything well in hand.  Don’t worry too much about it.  That frown looks so out of
place on your face.”  

He lightly brushed his fingers over Quatre’s cheek, smiling when Quatre looked up at him with those beautiful aquamarine eyes
of his.  Before he knew what was happening, Harry leaned forward, tenderly pressing his lips to the kindhearted blonde’s.  The
kiss was sweet and chaste, however short.

Harry abruptly broke it, taking several steps back.  “I’m sorry, Quatre.  I had no right to kiss you like that.  Please forgive me.”  
Harry rambled, knowing full well that he had crossed the bounds of mere friendship, or even the teacher/student relationship.

Quatre said nothing, instead he surged forward.  He stood on his tiptoes, grasping Harry’s shoulders and kissing him deeply.  
Harry sank into it, never having tasted anything better in his entire life.  His arms found their way around Quatre’s body, pulling
him closer, while Quatre’s hands moved up, his fingers gently weaving into Harry’s hair in an attempt to deepen the kiss even


The feel of the young Professor’s lips was wonderful, the taste intoxicating.  Quatre was hopelessly addicted and he had only
been kissing him for a few mere seconds.  Still, he wanted more and he wanted it now.  He craved the touch, the feel, the
sensation.  This would put Heero out of his mind, he was sure of it.  He didn’t want to remember, he only wanted to feel.

Quatre opened his mind, letting in Harry’s emotions.  Lust, that was the first thing he felt on a veritable wave of emotions that
flowed from the dark-haired youth.  Quatre shivered, sensing arousal within Harry’s body, feeling as the young man’s body rose
to the occasion.  Quatre wanted this, he did . . . if only to push away his fears and worries for a short time.

The two of them sank to the floor together, their arms and limbs entwined.  Quatre opened his mouth against Harry’s, grinding
his pelvis against the other youth’s as he hungrily sucked and nibbled on his lips.  Harry responded in kind, pushing his hips
upward and delivering a wave of pleasure for both of them.  Quatre could sense Harry’s emotions . . . he had purposely left his
mind open to help him in this.  He wanted to feel and give pleasure, wanted to keep Harry focused on what they were doing.

Harry parted his lips, allowing Quatre’s tongue to plunge inward, sucking hard on the slick invader as he applied his own tongue
to it.  His hands . . . his strong, yet nimble hands, worked at the catch of Quatre’s robes, pushing them down and off his
shoulders, pulling at his shirt and freeing it from his trousers.

Quatre shrugged out of his robes, never breaking the kiss even briefly.  He opened Harry’s robes, desiring contact, to feel his
flesh.  When he found an obstacle with the shirt that Harry wore on his slim body, he growled low in his throat, impatiently
ripping the garment off and sending several buttons flying.

Quatre gasped, his body shuddering as Harry’s fingers lightly brushed his nipples.  He had never been touched before, the
sensations were altogether new and frightening.  But he still wanted more.  He broke the kiss, trailing lips and tongue down
along the Professor’s sleek body, relishing the taste of his salty skin.  A sheen of sweat broke out on each of their bodies, but
Quatre felt that it only heightened the taste of Harry’s body.

With eagerness in his heart, feeling Harry’s want for him, Quatre brought his mouth to Harry’s chest.  Without hesitation,
Quatre took a hardening nub into his mouth, sucking and slathering attention to it with forceful swipes of his tongue.  He knew
he was being rough and yet he knew that Harry didn’t mind.  In fact, Harry was loving it.  Keeping his senses open to Harry’s
emotions was helping Quatre to seduce the handsome man below him . . . and he wanted to keep it that way.

While he alternated to the other nipple, Quatre’s hands made quick work of the belt that Harry wore. He slowly lowered the
zipper, relishing the feel of Harry’s hands urging him on, gently pushing him downward in a silent plea, his gasping breath like
music to Quatre’s ears.

Quatre lightly traced his fingers over the bulge he found in Harry’s shorts.  He enjoyed the way that the other youth bucked
beneath him, seeking more of Quatre’s attentions.  Quatre eagerly complied, feeling a desperate need to continue.  He pulled
Harry’s shorts down, just enough to free the physical proof of his arousal.  Here, Quatre hesitated.  Was it truly right to just use
Harry for his own purposes?  To do this if only to free his mind of worry for a relatively short time?

Quatre shook off his doubts, wrapping slender fingers around Harry’s length, delicately pumping the organ.  Harry nearly
screamed, his back arching off the floor.  Quatre trailed his lips lower, momentarily dipping into his navel before continuing
onward.  Meanwhile, his hands continued their exploration of Harry’s cock, tracing every detail of it with light caresses of his
gentle fingers.

He could feel a minute shift in Harry’s feelings, but thought nothing of it.  He knew that if he could get far enough along with
this, that Harry would forget any doubts he might have had.  All he had to do was push this along farther, to get Harry lost
deeper in ecstasy.  He traced light kisses along Harry’s abdomen, nipping playfully once before pulling his face away from Harry’
s well-toned body.

He took in the sight of Harry’s length and quickly found himself wanting more.  Quatre leaned down, ignoring it when Harry
whispered for him to stop.  He had to do this, had to get Harry to do this with him.  Just a little more and there would be no
turning back.  Quatre parted his lips, letting his tongue dart out and swipe the tip of Harry’s erection, shuddering at the salty
tang of precum that had beaded on it.

It was then that Quatre felt Harry’s hands on his shoulders.  Those hands moved down Quatre’s arms, grasping his wrists and
pulling them away from Harry’s body, forcing Quatre to move upward and kneel between Harry’s spread legs.  

“Quatre, stop!”  He demanded, his gaze forceful, yet soft.  

Quatre winced, bowing his head.  He could still sense Harry’s feelings, but the young man was pushing his arousal back, his
worry and guilt over what they had done quickly rising to the surface of his mind.  Quatre closed his mind, not wanting to sense
him anymore.  The moment was over now, his chance to forget was gone.

“Quatre, doing this would not have helped.”  Harry said, reaching down to his pants and redressing himself.  “I will not be used
as a distraction from your problems.”

“I’m sorry.”  Quatre whimpered, tears steadily dripping from his eyes.  He shouldn’t have done this.  It was wrong of him to be
so forceful.  He should have been more conscious of Harry’s feelings.  Using him would have been wrong, and it wouldn’t have
helped.  Harry was perfectly right.  Quatre hadn’t realized how cruel he was being, how foolish this was.

Harry’s arms circled his body, pulling Quatre down to sit across his lap.  Quatre buried his face against Harry’s shoulder,
breathing in the musky scent of Harry’s body.  Odd, Quatre idly thought, Harry sort of smelled like old books . . . he liked it.

“Don’t apologize . . . however, please don’t try that again.  I would much rather you talk to me than use me in such a manner.”  
Harry responded, his hands gentle and soothing against Quatre’s back.

Quatre nodded, saying nothing.  He simply wrapped his arms around Harry, sinking into the tender embrace his teacher was
giving him.  He wept, crying over his own stupidity, over Heero’s poor health . . . over everything that was troubling him.  He
was grateful that Harry didn’t hate him, but felt like a complete idiot for ever assuming that Harry could ever like him in such a
manner.  He was only a student and Harry his teacher.  It was a friendship between them and nothing more.  Perhaps, Quatre
should try and remember that.

To Be Continued . . .