Finders, Keepers

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Gundam Wing. I am making no money from this work of fanfiction. Also, in chapter 6, the lyrics to the song that Harry sings are also not mine—they belong to J.K. Rowling.

Summary: The war is over, and Harry has made a startling discovery: he has an older brother, who is a Muggle (most likely), who was adopted away before he was ever born. Crossover with Gundam Wing. Pairing: Heero/Harry, some Neville/Harry, Post DH (no epilogue), and Endless Waltz


Finders, Keepers
Chapter 11

Neville led Harry to an empty alley, and after checking to make sure there were no Muggles in the vicinity, he Apparated them as close as he could to Harry’s house. Grimmauld Place was still placed under the Fidelius Charm, and since the Secret Keeper was dead, Neville would never be able to see it from the outside.

Harry would have to lead him inside.

“Thanks,” Harry said, closing and bolting the door, which caused the other wards to spring into place.

“Don’t worry about it.” Harry looked awful. If they had still been dating, now would be the time for Neville to pull Harry into his arms and comfort him. Instead, he put his hands in his pockets and awkwardly looked around the foyer. Harry had never liked being comforted, anyway.

“Do you mind Flooing Hermione and the Weasleys – and Andromeda and Luna – to let them know I’m all right?” Harry asked. He turned to the table next to the door and began pawing through the papers. “I just – I had to get out of there. I hate hospitals, you know?”

Neville nodded. He wasn’t too fond of them, himself. “What do I say, if they want to come see for themselves?”

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up worse than usual. “Uh, tell them that I’ll Floo later. And, er, ask Mrs. Weasley if she minds if I come over tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Neville fidgeted. He wanted to ask Harry how he really was. He couldn’t be too bad off if the healers let him go, but there was still something a bit off about him.

“The kitchen’s just through here,” Harry pointed down the hall.

“I know,” Neville said, taking the hint. The kitchen held the only Floo-accessible fireplace. “I’ve been here before, remember?”

Harry arranged his face in what he obviously felt was a smile, but it fell far short of showing any actual happiness.

***

Harry let out a deep sigh when Neville left the room. It was odd how awkward he got around a boy he’d known for seven years, just because they weren’t having sex any longer.

He went back to the parchments on the table, and nearly crowed when he found the right one. He had known it was a good idea to make Hermione right down the instructions. He snatched the parchment up and called for Kreacher.

He was almost to the sitting room, when Kreacher popped into view, exuberant beyond Harry’s memories.

“Master Harry!” the house elf squeaked, launching himself at Harry’s legs and holding on tight.

“Kreacher?” Harry asked in disbelief, reminded horribly of Dobby. A lump rose in his throat, and he swallowed it down. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, now that Master Harry is back,” Kreacher cried. He released Harry and took a step back, flushing from his cheeks to the tips of his ears.

“Of course I came back,” Harry said. “Did you think I was gone for good?”

Kreacher looked at the floor, his ears flattening. Obviously, that’s exactly what Kreacher thought.

Shite, Harry thought, lowering himself to his knees. He grasped his friend’s shoulders. “I’m sorry. I will always come back, and if something were to happen to me, that made it impossible for me to return to you, Ron and Hermione would come be with you. I’ll never let you be alone again. Do you understand?”

Kreacher’s eyes darted to Harry’s, and then to the far wall. “Of course, Master Harry.” The tension bled out of his shoulders.

Harry stood up, uncomfortable with the way Kreacher was now looking at him, adoration in his eyes.

“Is Master Harry hungry?” Kreacher asked, his hands twisting in the tea towel he wore as clothing.

“Uh, not right now, but Neville might be. He’s at the Floo.”

“That boy would make a fine meal for Master,” Kreacher muttered, his expression darkening. For some reason, he had never got on with Neville, despite the fact that Neville was a pureblood and had never been anything less that pleasant around Kreacher.

“Uh, maybe we shouldn’t bother him at the moment,” Harry said quickly. “And, um, no more talk of cooking him, okay?” Harry was never sure if Kreacher was serious when he said those things, but he suspected that Kreacher would do any number of foul things to Neville, if he thought he could get away with it. “Could you just get me the mirror Hermione brought over? The one in my bedroom?”

Kreacher agreed and popped out to get it.

Harry surveyed the sitting room for anything that would seem out of place to a Muggle. There were too many house elf heads for him to remove so quickly (and they had Sticking Charms on them, besides), so he would just have to angle the mirror so Duo couldn’t see them.

He charmed a cover over a portrait of one of Sirius’s nicer ancestors and decided everything else would be fine. Duo would be able to see the bookshelf, which had books any Muggle would find strange, but Harry didn’t intend to sit close enough that Duo could actually make out the titles. The couch was far enough away, that he would only see the expensive bindings.

It didn’t take long for Kreacher to pop back in, mirror in tow. It was bigger than Harry’s handheld – round, and maybe the size of a dinner plate. Thankfully, it came with a stand, because it was a little to heavy for him to comfortably hold for long.

“Thanks,” Harry said, and Kreacher blushed again. “Do you, uh, would you mind leaving me alone for just a little while? I need to call someone, and he doesn’t know about magic.”

Kreacher’s eyes widened. “Master will be speaking to the Muggle vermin?”

Harry raised an eyebrow at that. “Yeah, he’s a Muggle. I’ll let you know when it’s safe to come back.”

“Yes, Master Harry,” Kreacher said, popping out of the sitting room.

Harry took one more look at his backdrop, to make sure everything overtly magical was out of the way or covered. Harry knew he had to tell Duo about magic after the way he disappeared. He just didn’t want to do it over the phone.

Harry said his pass code, and the mirror darkened. He consulted his parchment, then spoke the nine digit access code that would let him call Muggle telephones. It had taken Harry a week of political arm-twisting to get that code. Only a select few witches and wizards with Muggle family were allowed one.

“Call Duo Maxwell, L4 Colony,” Harry said. “Quatre Winner’s residence.” He didn’t know if he needed the last bit – after all, how many Duo Maxwell’s could there be? Still, it Hermione said the more details the better, when it came to the mirrors.

The mirror cleared, and Harry could see – of course – the security room. His call had been routed to the only line that allowed outside calls – he would have to be transferred. There was a guard in the small building. He answered on the first ring.

“Hi,” Harry said, looking into the eyes of the startled guard. “I’m Harry Potter. Can you let my brother know I’m on the phone?”

***

“What line is he on?” Duo demanded of the Maguanac. “Is the call being traced?”

The woman shrugged, helplessly. “I don’t know. Johnson only said Potter was on the phone.”

“All right. Uh, okay?” Duo dragged his hands through his hair, dancing up on the balls of his feet. “Have the call transferred here. And get somebody to bring Wufei and Trowa.

The woman saluted and ran down the corridor. Duo dismissed her from his mind, and rushed back to the TV Room. He had to get things ready.

“Okay, people!” he yelled, clapping his hands. “We have contact!” Silence reigned as everyone turned to him. “I’ve just been informed that Harry is on the phone. I’m having the call transferred up.” He turned to his best friend. “Heero, I want you to trace the call. I don’t care what you have to do, how many laws you have to break, just get me a location.”

Heero nodded, and got to work, typing furiously on his laptop.

“Quatre, I need vid feed, but I doubt Harry’s alone. I don’t want to give his kidnappers any reason to hurt him. Make it so I look like I’m the only one here.”

“That’s easy enough,” Quatre said. “Give me a sec.”

Duo clapped again. “Fantastic! Let me know when you’re good to go. Everyone else, listen up!” he shouted. “ I want this conversation recorded! Use the high quality stuff here. I want to be able to count the hairs on Harry’s head, and inspect the walls for mold with this video!”

The underlings hopped into motion, and Duo stalked over to the main phone. He nodded to Quatre. “Tell me when.”

Not thirty seconds later, Heero, Quatre, and Tech Boy #1, a young man named Larkin, gave him the thumbs up.

“Duo nodded and hit a button on the phone. “Patch him through.”

Almost immediately, Harry’s face lit up the screen. He looked bored. He was facing to the side of the screen, and picking at his fingernails. Duo took a moment to soak up the sight.

Harry had been unharmed. That was better than he’d been expecting.

“Harry,” he whispered reverently. He said it again, louder, drawing his brother’s attention to him.

“Oh!” Harry jumped in his seat and turned to look at Duo. He broke out in a grin. “Hey. Um.” He began fidgeting and cast his eyes away from Duo’s. “Duo, um, I’m okay, first off. I hope I didn’t cause you any trouble, looking for me or anything.”

Duo shook his head. “You’re fine, baby brother. It’s no trouble at all. Can you tell me where you are?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Heero shake his head. Damn. No trace yet.

“Well, er, that’s the thing,” Harry mumbled. “Are you, uh, are you alone or are the guys there with you?

“It’s just me,” Duo lied. If there was someone off screen threatening Harry, they might hang up if they knew Duo had the other pilots here. “Tell me where you are.”

Harry huffed, once more flicking his eyes away from the screen. “Just don’t freak out, okay? Promise me that you won’t have a fit.”

Duo rolled his eyes, frustrated. “I’m cool as a cucumber in the freezer,” he growled, clenching his fists where Harry couldn’t see them.

“Okay, um, stay that way,” Harry muttered. He leaned his elbows on his knees, letting Duo see more of the room he was in. It seemed rather large and airy – there was a lot of light coming in. Good artificial light – it almost looked like sunlight.

“I’m in London. Um, on Earth,” Harry said.

Duo’s thoughts screeched to a halt. “What?” There was no way Harry could be on Earth, not even if his kidnappers had left for Earth directly from Quatre’s front yard. There was only one possible explanation for this – two, if he considered that Harry might be lying.

Those three fuckers had drugged Harry.

Depending on how long he was knocked out and how he was affected by the sedatives, Harry would have no trouble believing nine hours had passed instead of just under two.

Duo studied the background in the vid phone – he couldn’t count on Harry to be any help in determining his actual location. Harry was obviously indoors. The décor looked expensive, which would indicate that he was on the nicer side of the colony. Given the time, L3 was the only other possibility, if he had been taken off L4.

“I’m at my house,” Harry continued, oblivious to Duo’s frantic thoughts. “My friend Neville brought me here, after we left the – after we left the others.”

Duo made a mental not to check out this “Neville.” It shouldn’t be too hard – Neville was a fairly odd name. Whoever he was, Harry thought of him as a friend, and he probably had connections with Granger and the Weasleys.

“Look, um, don’t be mad at Hermione and the Weasleys, okay?” Harry pleaded. “They thought they were helping.” He threw up his hands. “Well – say something!”

Duo jumped. He’d never heard Harry yell. “I’m not mad,” Duo lied, for the benefits of Harry’s captors, who he was now positive were just off-screen. “As long as you’re okay.”

Harry laughed. “Really? Great! Oh, I’m so glad.” He smiled. “Ron and Hermione thought I was hurt or sick or, I don’t know, and George fed into it. They tend to overreact when they think something’s wrong with me,” he babbled. “They’re going to be so embarrassed when they meet you!”

Harry paused, and turned his head away, shyly. “Um, that is, I want you to meet them properly. They’re my best friends – like family. If-if you want to, that is.”

Duo cursed in his head – it wouldn’t do to say anything aloud at this juncture. So, Harry’s captors wanted to meet with him. Although, how they got Harry to say that so convincingly, he had no idea. Maybe they used some type of hallucinogen, to make him believe whatever they told him. OZ had had plans to put something like that in production during the war, but they had never perfected it.

Duo broke down the facts. First, Harry believed he was on Earth. That was not a possibility, unless his captors had faster-than-light technology, which didn’t yet exist. Second, Harry believed his captors to be his friends. That was supported by his desire to see them, before they kidnapped him. Third, there were at least four captors – the Weasleys, Granger, and this Neville, who was new. Fourth, there was a strong possibility that Harry had been given at least one drug, possibly two. Fifth, Harry’s captors had not threatened him, based on his attitude towards them and his belief that they had just “made a mistake.”

“Duo?” Harry said. He looked nervous – he was biting his lip so hard it was red, and fidgeting with his hands. “What do you think?”

Duo shook his head. “I would love to meet them. Where should I go?” He looked to Heero out of the corner of his eye, who shook his head.

Damn, still no trace.

“Brilliant!” Harry beamed. “We can meet at – er, it’s probably not a good idea to come here. It’s. . . messy.” Harry picked at lint on his pants, before looking back at the camera. “But there’s this fantastic fish and chip place near King’s Crossing. Can we meet there?”

Duo nodded. “What time should I be there?”

“Oh, I guess – I guess about half six, your time? That’ll give you enough time to get here, yeah?”

Duo did a rough calculation. That would give him just enough time to get there – Harry was obviously aware of the correct time. Which was suspicious, but if he was still affected by the drugs, he might not notice the discrepancy.

They finalized their plans, and Harry hung up, so Duo could find a shuttle.

Duo reluctantly turned off the phone, and turned to Heero and Quatre.

“Duo, I’m sorry,” Heero said, clenching his jaw. “I couldn’t get it.”

Duo didn’t say anything to that. He looked to Wufei, who had come in at some point. “Call Une. Get some men to that restaurant. I want to know everyone who even thinks about stepping a foot in there.”

“Are you not going, then?” Wufei asked.

Duo shook his head. “I’m not stupid. That way is a dead end, when it comes to actually finding Harry. Someone might show up who knows something, but Harry couldn’t have made it farther than L3 by now.”

Wufei took Duo’s shoulder. “I think you should go,” he spoke quietly. “There are – things you don’t know.”

Duo shrugged him off. “I’m not haring off on some wild goose chase to Earth, when my brother in is danger here.

“Harry wouldn’t lie to you,” Wufei persisted.

“Of course he wouldn’t,” Duo agreed. “But he could mistakenly give me the wrong information – which he did. It’s not possible for him to be on Earth.”

“Just like it isn’t possible for five teenaged boys to win a war against OZ.”

Duo chuckled ruefully. “That’s different. For this to be possible, Harry would have had to break the actual laws of physics. Unless you know of some way he could do that, then I have some actual leads to check out.”

Wufei remained silent.

“All right, then,” he said and went to see what Quatre had found.

***

Harry sighed in relief as the mirror went dark, then cleared to reflect the sitting room.

“Well, that went well,” he muttered to himself, getting to his feet. He found it odd that Duo hadn’t once asked how he had gotten to Earth so quickly, but he counted that as a blessing. That was not a conversation he wanted to have over the phone, or mirror, as it were.

Now that he’d got things with Duo sorted out, he could go make up with Hermione and the Weasleys. Harry trudged towards the kitchen in search of Neville, to see who he’d contacted.

Neville was in the middle of a Floo call when Harry made it to the kitchen. He knelt on the rug at the hearth with his head in the flame, his bum sticking in the air. Harry took a seat at the table, admiring the sight.

He regretted that things hadn’t worked out with Neville. Neville wasn’t the most gorgeous bloke in the world, but the confidence he gained during the war made him infinitely sexier than mere good looks ever could. They’d known each other forever, and were really good friends. Even in a crowd of people, Neville looked at Harry like he was the only person in the world. Neville loved Harry – he told him so after they lost their virginity to each other.

Neville was the perfect man, but for some reason, Harry just didn’t feel it. He liked Neville, but he didn’t feel that all-encompassing adoration for Neville that he seemed to feel for Harry. The longer they were together, the more it felt like he was using Neville – for sex, for companionship, it didn’t matter.

Staying with Neville would have been like going back to Ginny once he realized he was gay. It was wrong, and Neville deserved better.

Neville pulled himself out of the Floo, and startled when he saw Harry sitting at the table. “When did—when did you get here?” he asked.

“Just a minute ago,” Harry replied. He tried to act natural, friendly, like they had always only be friends, and there was no reason to be awkward. He thought he pulled it off quite well. “Thanks for doing this. You’re a good friend.”

“Yeah, well, you know I’d do anything for you.” Neville’s eyes shifted to Harry’s lips—just for a second—and Harry fidgeted in his seat. Neville looked at the floor, and grabbed onto a nearby chair, to heft himself up. “It’s not a problem.”

Harry stood up to help Neville up, but he waved him away. “Thanks, anyway. You’ve really helped me, today.” He smiled nervously, and played with the hem of his shirt. “So, um, how contrite do I have to be, when I make the rounds?”

“Everyone was pretty understanding, except Mrs. Tonks.” Neville gave him a piercing gaze. “She demanded that you buy her forgiveness with chocolate and a weekend with Teddy.”

Harry sighed in relief. His relationship with Andromeda was still very new, her being his godson’s grandmother, and he never quite knew how to act around her. She was usually very forgiving of his social inadequacies, as long as he spent time with her and Teddy.

“Fantastic. What about everyone else?”

“Luna insisted that you had Nargles in your hair, and weren’t to be blamed for anything you might have done. Mrs. Weasley would be delighted to have you over for dinner – and she made a point to mention that you should bring anyone you like. Ron and Hermione want to talk with you.”

Harry surged forward and hugged Neville, lightning-fast. He didn’t want to lead Neville on, but he was so relieved that no one was very angry with him. “Thanks, Nev. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been here.”

Neville wrapped his arms around Harry, hesitantly, as though he was fragile as glass, like he always did, and leaned his head down towards Harry’s neck. “You’re welcome.”

Harry let go of Neville and stepped back, breaking Neville’s easy hold on him. “Um, my brother is going to meet me at half four, at O’Reilly’s Fish and Chips. Do you, maybe, want to come with me? I’m going to tell him about magic, and it would be nice to have back-up, or he’ll think I’m mad.”

“Yeah, um, sure. Of course.” Neville smiled.

“Great! Er, I guess I’ll see you then, then,” Harry babbled. “I have to go pick up some chocolate for Andromeda, now – she only likes the goblin-made kind.”

Harry grabbed his wand and made to Apparate, but before he could, Neville grabbed him by the waist, and pulled him in for a kiss. Neville was forceful, just the way Harry liked, and held the back of his head in one big hand.

Harry melted and kissed Neville back, letting himself float in the bubble of protection he represented. He gasped for breath and stumbled back, out of Neville’s arms.

“I’m – we shouldn’t – I,” Harry babbled, before Apparating to Diagon Alley. He touched his lips, flushing.

So much for not leading Neville on.