Hanging By A Moment

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own anything to do with Harry Potter or with Gundam Wing. I am not getting paid for this in any way, it’s merely for entertainment purposes.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This story contains slash which means male/male pairings and is a Harry Potter/Gundam Wing crossover.

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Harry felt sick as he landed flat on his face on a cool, hard surface. His stomach twisted uncomfortably and bile rose in his throat. He stifled the urge to groan, sucking in sharp, quiet breaths of air between his teeth. Never before in his life had a portkey done this to his constitution. He remained where he was for a full minute, not trusting his stomach to cooperate with any sudden movements, before he lifted his head.

The hallway was dark and made of a cool stone and felt grainy under Harry’s hand which had found the hem of the invisibility cloak beneath him. The sound of footsteps, quick and clipped came toward him and Harry ducked his head again, sliding as silently as he could toward the side of the hallway and out of the way. A man in a red and gold uniform passed him quickly, looking stern and very serious.

Harry got quietly to his feet, adjusting the folds of the cloak around his body as he glanced around again. Where the hell WAS he? The sick feeling remained in the pit of his stomach, though he wasn’t sure if that was because of the portkey trip or because every sense in his body screamed that there was trouble where he had found himself. The compulsion no longer pulled at him as Harry slipped off his shoes – better to not be heard walking until he had more of an idea as to what was going on – and felt the cold stone beneath his socks.

He followed the man in the uniform mainly because at least it would lead him to people. He slipped the portkey ring onto his right ring finger, knowing it wouldn’t activate and take him home until he was ready to go back. Soundlessly he slipped his wand out of the slim sheath Hermione had given him last Christmas and held it loosely in his right hand. He crept forward, ears straining for the sounds of people who might have the bad luck to bump into him.

100 yards and two more dimly lit corridors later Harry found himself in a mess hall perhaps about half full of the people in the red and gold suits. A small crest on each suit bore the portrait of a lion. Harry felt sick, recognizing the Gryffindor lion from Hogwarts instantly. His eyes swept around the room, surveying each person with careful scrutiny. Each jumpsuit seemed to have pockets, but none were large enough to fully conceal a wand. Nobody carried one in their hands either as he searched for the piece of wood that would betray them for their wizarding heritage.

He frowned as he slid into a badly lit corner and got his bearings for a moment. While there were plenty of other places to hide a wand…the sheath Hermione had given him was a prime example, it had a velcro attachment that allowed him to strap it onto the lower part of his arm near the wrist for quick concealment…Harry didn’t get the feeling that any of these people WERE of the magical world. None of the people he could see sipping cups of what had to be coffee or nibbling on a bag of chips looked like wizards. They were physically fit, and looked as if they did hard work each day of their lives. Two men were cursing over a vending machine near to Harry, their bag of chips caught in the metal claw of the machine which refused to drop the snack.

It was more than that though, it was an underlying feeling of tension in the air. The people who inhabited this room were sharp faced with haunted eyes above gaunt cheekbones. They looked frightened, and they looked hauntingly familiar. A slender woman walked by, her eyes sharp and focused, lips pursed as if she had just smelled something bad. Harry sucked in a quick breath as the woman passed him. Something in the pursed lips had reminded him of his muggle aunt, Petunia Dursley and it was then that he recognized the haunted looks in the faces of the muggles before him. They looked frightened, as if they were sure that at any moment a wizard would come down and do something particularly nasty to them.

Harry frowned as he watched the two men kick the vending machine twice before giving up and walking past him with disgruntled looks on their faces. Except for underlying current of fear, tension and anger in the room, it appeared to be a relatively normal cafeteria.

A scuttle of movement caught Harry’s eye and he twisted his head slightly beneath the cloak to get a good look. For a long minute, shadows greeted his view as he looked into the hallway from which he had come, and he nearly turned away again. There! He caught the movement again and saw that it was the slim figure of a young man dressed in the now familiar red and gold jumpsuit slipping from the shadows into the room itself.

He kept his head down, a fall of untidy brown hair obscuring his features as it fell around his eyes, and he crossed the room quickly. Nobody appeared to notice him as he slipped down another corridor, but Harry followed him anyway. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but something in the teen’s movements caught his attention. There was a grace to each step, and purpose in the movements of his body. There appeared to be no or very little of the fear in the others.

The figure moved quickly once out of the line of sight from the cafeteria, and Harry was nearly running, stepping lightly onto the toes of each foot to keep from making a sound in order to keep up. The young man paused twice at branches, seeming to be going over a map in his head before choosing the right branch both times. Harry felt a deep chill set into his bones as he got a glimpse of the gun as it slipped from the teen’s sleeve into his hand with practiced ease.

The figure paused outside of a cell, glancing around the dark corridor, looking for anyone who might be coming by. The hallway remained deserted, and the young man finally looked up. Harry saw a flash of cold blue eyes before the face was turned away. He cocked the gun and held it loosely in one hand, looking through the bars of the cell with no expression visible on his face.

Harry followed his gaze and saw not the figure slumped on the floor of the tiny cell, but the runes of a shielding spell carefully etched onto each bar and spreading out to surround the frame of the cell itself. The teen raised his right hand, tightening the muscles in his wrists as he leveled the gun at the figure in the cell. Harry swore inwardly. He hadn’t seen the wardings! Without thinking twice about what he was doing, Harry flipped the hood of the cloak off of his head and held out his wand. “Stop!” Instantly he found himself staring directly into the unforgiving barrel of the gun.

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Heero had felt the eyes on him the moment he had walked into the damn cafeteria, yet every quick scan of the room had met with no intense gaze, not even the quick glance of someone dismissing him the moment they looked at him. Nobody seemed to give a damn if he was there or not, and still his intuition told him that he was being watched.

Long years of practice had taught Heero to never doubt his intuition, and it was always better to be too paranoid than to be too lax. His eyes swept around the room beneath his hair, searching for the insistent gaze that might be coming to him from a hidden camera, but he saw no such device on the walls, no mirrors that could offer him solace. He entered the corridor on the other side of the cafeteria and picked up his pace once out of easy eyeshot.

To his surprise the feeling of being watched only grew stronger with each step. There hadn’t been the overwhelmingly intense stares on him when in the previous corridors, but now he felt the pressure of it as an almost physical being that pushed against his back and drove him to nearly break into a run. Heero inwardly cursed himself for being so jumpy and slowed his progress ever so slightly. A soldier never gave into blind panic. That would be a stupid mistake on his part and would most likely result in getting himself killed or captured. The thought of what Duo would do if he managed that made him stop at the first branch and pause, as if not sure where he was going.

The gaze on him was burning into his back as he chose right and kept on his way, keeping his progress steady now. He stopped again at the 2nd corridor, though every instinct in his body told him to get to the cell, shoot Wufei and get the hell out of there before whatever or whomever was watching him attacked. He let the gun slide down his right sleeve and slip into his hand. The weight felt comforting, and he felt slightly better about this whole thing.

He turned to face the cell where his friend and comrade was waiting for him. For a moment he stared at the mangled mass that were Wufei’s once strong legs and a fury so intense he was nearly shaking rocked through his body. Without hesitation, he cocked the gun and raised his hand to shoot through the bars. Wufei’s eyes were liquid black as he stared at Heero, and he nodded slightly. Heero’s finger tightened on the trigger.

“Stop!” He turned and pointed his gun at the floating head of a boy whose eyes were wide as he stared down the barrel for a moment. Heero drew in a sharp breath when he saw the wand in the teen’s hand poking out through the folds of what appeared to be fabric that covered the rest of his body and hid it from view. He could see the shadows of the hallway THROUGH what had to be the boy’s other arm and shoulder.

Heero’s face hardened. So this was what had been following him the whole time. The green eyes of the boy as he looked through the lenses of glasses were nearly dazzling in their intensity, focused on Heero in a way that made him feel naked. His brief hesitation at seeing the boy’s head floating on his body gave his attacker the moment he needed. He pointed the wand at Heero and spoke. “Petrificus Totalus!”

Heero’s arms and legs shot together and he fell over, as if he had been turned into stone. Inwardly he raged, screamed as he stared into the eyes of the boy who had captured him so efficiently. The boy appeared calm as he bent down and placed what appeared to be his shoes down onto the floor. Gently but firmly, he pried the gun out of Heero’s dead fingers and held it as if he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with it now. He looked sternly at Heero. “Didn’t you see the shielding spell?” He demanded as if Heero was a small child who had nearly touched a burning furnace. “You would have sent that bullet flying into your own body you idiot!”

Heero would have gasped if he had the ability and he stared at the teen for a long minute. The black haired boy with the flashing green eyes seemed too irritated and sincere to be lying to him, and now that he noticed, he could see the etchings on the bars and around the frame of the cell. He swore inwardly then waited to see what the boy was going to do next.

The teen took his gaze from Heero and then put the gun down next to his shoes after a moment’s hesitation. He swung in to look at Heero again. “If you try to shoot me, I’ll make you regret it.” He promised, turning to look into the cell again. Heero saw his face drain of color as he saw it’s occupant. “Merlin!” He breathed, staring at Wufei’s slumped form.

After a long minute, the boy appeared to shake himself. “Nice. Shooting a guy in a cell whose legs are shattered.” He said coldly to Heero. “Ruddy coward.”

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Harry was mad, no he was absolutely furious and it took nearly all of his concentration to stop himself from giving the petrified teen on the floor a few good kicks while HE was helpless. Still, there was that figure in the cell to worry about and the shielding spell to dismantle. He might not have much time before some alarm was raised when they DIDN’T hear the gun go off, shooting the cell’s occupant. Scowling, Harry took off his cloak and draped it over the fallen teen, shielding him from easy sight. Maybe they would assume he took a bathroom break before getting here, and this would buy him a little more time. He smiled grimly as he studied the shielding charms. They were password locked, which didn’t entirely surprise him. Pausing for a moment, he thought back to the things he had seen in the cafeteria, focusing for a long minute on the scarlet and gold uniforms, each with the emblem of a lion on the chest. “Godric Gryffindor.”

His tone was absent, more as if he was mumbling to himself than actually trying out a password, and his head shot up as he felt the shielding charm lift, the etchings on the stone and metal bars disappearing as if they had never been. Harry didn’t hesitate, holding out his wand, this time not bothering to speak the spell aloud. The door to the cell opened slowly, and Harry leapt forward to help it along as it started to creak.

He could feel two pairs of eyes on him, one hidden beneath the folds of his robe, the other of the figure he know knelt beside. Harry took a good look at the damaged legs and winced. It would take more than his knowledge of repairing broken bones to fix this. There was only one thing left to do. “Stay still.” He cautioned, holding out his wand. With a grimace, he watched as the bones in the boy’s leg disappeared, leaving two large, flesh colored noodles instead of the legs they had once been. The boy to whom the bones had once belonged stared at Harry with wide black eyes. Harry winced. “Yeah know, but this will be easier for me to fix, and it will be much easier getting you out of here without you screaming every time your legs hit something.” He said apologetically, remembering full well how it felt to be attached to your limbs which no longer felt like anything whatsoever. It was dead uncomfortable having your bones dissolve away into nothing, but at least the pain would be gone.

“NO!” The boy’s voice was hoarse, as if he had gone days without use save for screaming. Harry winced again, recognizing the result of the seemingly endless pain. His eyes were dark pools of intensity. “Let…Heero shoot.” He told Harry haltingly, and Harry nearly lost his temper again as he saw the desperation in the dark eyes.

“Don’t be stupid. I’m not just going to leave you here to die.” He said bluntly, irritated with both crazy boys, one for trying to shoot a man with two broken legs, the other WANTING to be shot!

“I don’t want to be a burden on my friends. A cripple.” Harry heard the coldness in the voice that spoke plainly of the loathing that existence had for the young man and felt a brief stab of pity, but ignored it almost instantly. He didn’t have time for this.

“You don’t have a choice in the subject.” He said flatly, raising his wand. “Petrificus Totalus.” His voice was detached, not controlled by any sort of emotions. Instantly the boy’s body went stiff and Harry sighed. “Locomotor.” The teen’s body lifted into the air. “Protego.” He could feel the shield settle itself around the boy and smiled slightly. Turning, he walked out of the cell, counting on the boy to follow him closely…not that he had much of a choice.

He swept the cloak off of the fallen shooter and paused for a moment, staring down into hard blue eyes before he waved his wand. Instantly the boy shot for his gun, but Harry didn’t give him a chance, following every movement with his wand hand. “Locomotor Mortis!” His legs shot back together and he collapsed, but his upper body remained active. Harry picked up the gun. “He knows you.” It was not a question so much as a statement. “He expected you to come here and shoot him.”

The teen on the floor stared up at Harry for a long minute before he bowed his head. Though he didn’t answer, Harry saw the acknowledgement in his movements. Harry took a deep breath to keep away the temper he felt trying to take over. “Why.” The brown haired teen gave no response and Harry swore under his breath. “There’s nothing stopping me from putting you into that cell and leaving you for dead.” He said in a fierce whisper. “The only reason I’m not doing that is because he said he knows you. Now answer me this. Are you part of the people who did this to his legs?”

The young man on the floor looked up, startled. He seemed to pause for a moment. “I wear their uniform.”

Harry swore again, more colorfully this time and saw a slight thaw in the teen’s blue eyes. After a moment the figure on the floor shook his head. “And do you have a way to get out of here?” Harry asked firmly.

The teen frowned at him. “He’s right. It is a security risk to leave him alive with crippled legs.”

Harry gritted his teeth, trying to keep his patience in line. “Let me be the judge of that.” He said impatiently. “And as I told him, I’ll tell you…you don’t have a damn choice. Here’s how I see it. I’m getting him out no matter what happens, and I either leave you here to rot in a cell and wait for them to realize they have the wrong prisoner, or you help me get him out and we can debate over whether to shoot him or not once we’re not in danger of someone spotting us here.”

The boy on the floor paused for a long minute, his blue eyes assessing Harry’s conviction. Finally he nodded. “I have a way out.” He said with little emotion in his voice. “And three rounds in my gun.”

Harry recognized the threat instantly. The boy would shoot the boy from the cell, Harry, and then himself if they couldn’t make it out alive. He paused to study the calm blue eyes and then nodded and held out his hand with the gun in it. “Protego.” Harry murmured again, the shield now covering him as well. If the young man decided to shoot, he would get a nasty surprise.

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Heero had no intentions of shooting. He had already seen how easily the green eyed teen had taken charge of the situation, and knew better than to fight a battle he knew he would lose. No, he would wait and see what happened…and if the green eyed teen failed, then he would shoot. There could be no security leaks, and he owed it to Wufei to not allow the interrogation to commence.

The teen paused for a moment, frowning. “No time.” He muttered to himself before picking up the fallen cloak and swinging it around to cover Wufei completely. Instantly the Chinese boy vanished, and he turned to study the cell next. He pulled the door shut then frowned at the bars. Symbols etched themselves into the stone and metal, shining bright with each twist of the wand before fading again. Heero frowned. The symbols were not the same etchings that had been on the cell before.

“What did you do?” He demanded, trying to resist the urge to raise his gun and shoot the youth in the head right now. Did he leave a message for whoever was going to check on them soon? Was it some sort of trap to see how many pilots he could get?

The teen looked irritated, as if he wanted to lock HIM in the cell. “I told you. We don’t have time. Someone glancing at the cell might see some symbols and not look too closely to be sure he’s still in there. It’s dark enough he could be missed by someone passing.”

Heero nodded, respecting the thought that the teen had put into the quick plan. “If you can do that trick again we can get you a uniform.”

The teen shuddered and his eyes looked haunted, as if the thought of touching the red and gold uniform to his slim body made his skin crawl. “You’re sure everyone wears uniforms here?”

Heero studied the teen. “Yes.”

The eyes closed for a moment behind the glasses and then he nodded. “Right then. Let’s go. Slow and quiet.”

Heero grit his teeth but obeyed, watching the teen pick up his shoes and carry them lightly in one hand. “Why don’t you wear them?”

“Harder to hear me walk on stone if I don’t.” The young man replied instantly. “Made following you easier.”

Heero scowled, not wanting to admit that the intense gaze of the teen had bothered him. He had been followed and that bothered him. Soldiers, assassins, they were not supposed to be caught so easily. He paused when he heard footsteps coming from the left tunnel just before the fork. Instantly he shot forward and pressed his gun to the head of the man who walked by. “This way.” He ordered, drawing the man back.

The teen frowned, but followed Heero back to the deserted cell without comment. “Open it.”

The teen obediently walked forward and bent, as if studying the cell door. He fiddled it for a moment, and Heero never saw the wand appear from the boy’s sleeve, where he had slipped it, but knew that he had used it. He was forced to admire the teen’s technique yet again. He knew how to think on his feet. “Strip.”

The teen didn’t hesitate, but the man did. He glanced around and Harry turned slightly, a question in his green eyes. Heero shook his head. He could handle this himself. He pressed the muzzle of the gun harder against the man’s head and pressed the trigger. The gun made a soft popping noise and he buckled beneath the man’s suddenly relinquished weight.

The teen stared at him for a long time, his face like a mask. Finally he spoke as he pulled a keychain from his waist. “Did you have to shoot him?”

“He risks sending up an alarm.” Heero replied coldly, pulling the body into the cell and stripping him down. The teen stared at the small drops of blood on the red suit for a moment before he slipped his legs into it. He strapped a small sheath onto his right arm, and slipped the wand into it before he put his arms into the shirt.

Heero pulled the body into the corner where Wufei had been sitting, covering the man with the teen’s discarded clothing. They didn’t have time to dress him properly. Time was of the essence. “So much for only three rounds in that thing.” The teen quipped under his breath, pulling his shoes on.

Heero was surprised by the sardonic humor behind the words. He knew the teen only trusted him because he had to, but never thought that it would extend to jokes. The casual way he spoke also surprised him. Whoever this green eyed boy was, he had seen war before and never looked as if anything bothered him, going along with everything flexibly. “Never tell the enemy how many bullets you have in your gun.” Heero replied seriously a moment later as they closed the cell door behind them.

The teen chuckled under his breath then grew serious as he turned slightly behind him. “The spell holding you immobile should end soon. If you move under that cloak you will give yourself and us away. Don’t do ANYTHING.” He cautioned and Heero heard the threat beneath the words, and the irritation that lined it. He snorted, knowing Wufei wouldn’t like that threat, but also knowing that the Chinese youth knew better than to do something stupid in this sort of situation.

They entered the cafeteria a few minutes later, the black haired boy making a beeline toward the vending machines, nearly running around the perimeter of the room where Wufei following him had a less likely chance of getting knocked into someone. Heero followed, a slight smile crossing his face. The teen had some good ideas. They paused beside the vending machine, the teen digging around in his pockets. “Hey, can you spot me a drink?” The teen demanded, turning on Heero.

Heero paused, studying the face behind the glasses. There was a faint frown on his face, his muscles slack yet pinched, as if he hadn’t gotten enough sleep. A woman standing near him had the same look on her face, a look that Heero recognized as anyone who was over worked and feared the people they worked for. He dug through his pockets. “Sorry. I’ve got a few in my locker though.”

The youth blinked at the mention of lockers and Heero frowned slightly. Where did this boy come from? The lockers were right by the landing bays. You had to pass them to get into the building. “Right.” The teen sighed. “Damn. Okay, let’s go.”

They made their way to the main corridor and walked quickly down it, keeping to the right side so Wufei had less chance of being accidentally bumped into by anyone passing. They reached the lockers and Heero paused as if trying to find his key. “From here we run.” He whispered. “My ship isn’t far.”

The teen paused then nodded. “Right.” He glanced around before the tip of the wand touched his palm. He murmured, “Protego” again and Heero felt something slide over his body, and then harden almost like armor. “Let’s go.”

Heero didn’t hesitate, but took off in a dead sprint for the small ship that was waiting for him, the teen right behind him. They heard yelling from the lockers, but never hesitated, running for all they were worth. The teen pulled to Heero’s side, and then backed off a little, recognizing that Heero needed to lead them where they were going. He vaulted up onto the gangplank, throwing himself into the pilot’s seat. The teen swore as he threw himself into the ship and promptly hit Heero’s chair, the body of Wufei sliding in after them. “Go!”

Heero obeyed, his fingers already flying over the controls. The plank closed and the door slid shut. “Hold on.” He warned, lifting them into the air.