Finders, Keepers

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Gundam Wing. I am making no money from this work of fanfiction.

Author’s Note: I would, again, like to thank everyone who has reviewed so far. I haven’t been able to answer individually, because I’ve been at work. There will probably be more frequent updates during the weekend.

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 Post DH (no epilogue), and Endless Waltz


Finders, Keepers
Chapter 3

Later that evening, Duo and Quatre let Harry pick out the room he would be staying in. He chose the first one they showed him, merely for the fact that he doubted it was any less lavish than any of the others—and it had an enormous mirror on top of the dresser.

Harry sat on the king-sized bed, and bounced. Springy. It was certainly softer than any bed he’d ever slept on. Harry smiled and flung himself flat on the bed.

He’d certainly come a long way since the Dursleys!

Harry rolled onto his side and grabbed one of the many pillows, hugging it to himself. He couldn’t get Duo’s face out of his mind. He wanted to go find his brother, but like he’d told Duo, he really was exhausted from his trip here. What he’d failed to mention was that Earth to colony Portkeys were especially taxing.

Harry was becoming increasingly convinced that his brother and all of his friends were Muggles. None of them seemed to know who he was—which was quite a relief, actually, but a stark contrast to the blatant adulation given him by even the most backwater wizard communities. They didn’t know about Quidditch or even Celestina Warbeck! Granted, that last could be because Celestina was a “musician for a more romantic generation,” as Mrs. Weasley often said, but even first years had at least hear of her.

Harry wasn’t sure what he thought of his new blood relative being a wizard-born Muggle (a more politically correct term than “Squib,” which was gaining popularity based on his own willingness to use it). In one way, it reminded him of the Dursleys—what if Duo resented Harry for having magic when he didn’t, like Petunia did with their mother?

Having magic certainly would have come in handy for Duo, during the war. But then again, Duo might not care—he might just think it was neat that Harry was a wizard. Given what he’d learned of his brother so for, Harry was leaning more towards the latter, but that might just be wishful thinking.

Either way, Harry was going to keep from dropping the M-bomb until he and Duo were a little more emotionally invested in each other—and Duo was a little less likely to freak out and never want to see Harry again.

With a huff, Harry pulled himself up into a sitting position. He needed to mirror call Ron and Hermione. It was nearing midnight, and they were probably worried—he said he would call sooner.

Harry dug the small mirror out of his back pocket and dragged himself over to the large mirror on the wall. The spell to connect the mirrors to one another were quite nifty. The Unspeakables had been working for years to make Floo calls portable, and had found the answer in small, hand-held mirrors. Harry’s dad had discovered this when he was a teenager.

Harry stuck his mirror in the corner of the large one. It seemed to sink down into the larger mirror, molding with it, so all Harry could see of it was the frame.

“The sky is falling; the sky is falling,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. Hermione had, of course, picked the most embarrassing passcode for him. The mirrors slowly turned black. Ready to make a call. “Chicken little seeks the Fox and the Hound.”

The mirrors blinked a series of lights at Harry. When that faded away, Harry could make out what could only be a hotel room, in the reflection. There was one bed, covered in the generic spread and flat pillows that hotels seemed to favor. A brown suitcase was open on the corner of the bed. Hermione was digging into the suitcase, her back to Harry, so all he could see of her was her bushy hair. She spoke softly to someone out of the frame.

“Oy!” Harry yelled, after putting up a silencing charm. “Ignore me, eh? I see how it is.”

Hermione visibly jumped and whirled around, causing Harry to smile. It wasn’t often he got the jump on his friend.

“Harry!” she squealed. She peered at him with her all-knowing eyes, making Harry quite uncomfortable. He hated it when she looked right through him like that.

“That’s me,” he said. “How are you guys? Any luck today?”

“You know it, mate,” Ron said, swinging into the frame. “We found Hermione’s parents, today. How did things go on your end?”

“They went okay. Duo’s friends invited me to stay with them,” Harry replied. “How are things with your parents?” he asked Hermione.

She flicked her hair behind her ears, somehow making it seem natural and not the nervous habit Harry knew it was. “They’re going to be okay,” Hermione said. “I took the spell off them, today, and they’re starting to remember things. Ron and I gave them quite a fright, just showing up the way we did, but I think everything will be okay in a few days.”

“They were right peeved at Hermione when she told them what she did, though,” Ron spoke up, and Hermione glared at him.

“Nevertheless, I think we’ll be able to move past this. We could be back in England by early next week,” she said. “Now, what happened with you? I want to hear every detail.”

Harry sat on the bed and played with his fringe, thinking of how to word things. “Duo’s brilliant,” he said, “and he seemed excited to have a little brother. He wanted to know everything about me—which I fudged a little. Don’t look at me like that!” Hermione thought he should tell Duo the truth about himself up front, but Harry preferred to ease him into it.

Hermione frowned and made a “hurry up” motion. “What else happened?”

“He, um, I had to wait for a couple of hours before I could see him. He’s staying at his friend Quatre’s house, who is richer than the Queen, probably. There was a lot of security to go through,” Harry said. “I had do a DNA test, but it came back a match, of course. Thanks for telling me how to do the locator potion, by the way. I would never have found Duo, otherwise.”

Hermione had a pensive look on her face. “Quatre is an unusual name. It seems familiar, somehow. Is that his first or last name?”

“First,” Harry replied. “His full name is Quatre Winner.”

Hermione gasped. “Duo Maxwell and Quatre Winner! Why didn’t I see it before?” She turned to look at Harry. “Did Duo have any other friends with him?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, three of them. Heero, Wufei, and Trowa.”

“Heero Yuy, Wufei Chang, and Trowa Barton?” she pressed.

“Yeah,” Harry said. “How did you know?”

“Oh, Harry!” Hermione cried. Do you know nothing about recent history?”

“Er.” There was really no right answer to that. The truth would just make her angry. Still, Harry had not been a Gryffindor for nothing. “Not really. I could tell you about a goblin war, though.”

Hermione gave him a look—the frowny kind. “Your brother and his friends were instrumental in the downfall of the Alliance! They defeated Oz!”

Harry had to bite his tongue to keep from asking what Oz was.

“Your brother is a hero. He and his friends saved the world.”

“I guess it runs in the family, huh?” Ron said, beating his way back into the conversation. “But enough of that. Tell me—what’s the food like?”

Harry grinned, and went into a detailed discussion of what he’d eaten, so far, in the mansion, as well as a general outline of everything else he’d seen the chefs making. Hermione eventually steered the conversation back on course, so by the time they said their goodbyes, it was almost one o’clock.

Harry yawned as he tucked his mirror into the side pocket of his log. One of Quatre’s staff had brought it in just a few minutes after Harry’d been given the room. Harry took down the silencing charm and began rummaging in his bag for some pajama pants.

He pulled out a pair that didn’t look too ratty, and his tooth brush.

Harry shimmied out of his clothes and pulled the pants on. He would take a quick nip to the bathroom to relieve himself and brush his teeth, then straight to bed. The nearest bathroom wasn’t too far away, if he remembered correctly from what Duo showed him.

***

“ I wanna go see Harry,” Duo said, springing up from the couch.

“Sit down, and let the kid rest,” Wufei insisted, elbowing Duo back down.

Heero and his friends were in their room, chatting about everyone’s new favorite topic—Duo’s newfound brother.

Duo happily bounced in his seat, and turned to Heero. “So, what’dcha think, Hee-chan?”

Heero grimaced at the nickname, but he had long since given up trying to make Duo call him by his proper name. “I thought he was cute,” Heero said, then blushed. He hadn’t meant to say that. “He reminded me a bit of you, at that age.” There, maybe Duo would focus on that.

“Aw, that’s so adorable!” Duo enthused, pinching Heero’s cheeks. “Of course, my little brother is off-limits to all lecherous thoughts,” he delivered in a flat tone. He turned to Quatre. “You spread that around, Quat, okay?”

Quatre nodded, smothering a laugh behind his hand when Duo looked away. He winked at Heero.

“Yuy does not have lecherous thoughts about your brother, Maxwell,” Wufei said. Heero might have been grateful for the rescue, if it didn’t put his best friend’s attention firmly back on him.

“Is Wuffers right, ‘Ro?” Duo asked.

Heero rolled his eyes, and slapped Duo on the shoulder. “Relax, Duo. I’m not going to jump your brother in a fit of lust.”

Duo mock-sighed, wiping his brow with an exaggerated motion. “And here I was all worried.”

That seemed to kill that line of thought, much to Heero’s gratitude. They spent the next hour or so rambling about Harry—and all of Duo’s half-formed plans for his baby brother.

“I feel sorry for Harry,” Trowa spoke up before they went to bed for the night.

“How so?” Duo asked, a manic glint in his eye.

Trowa pointed at Duo. “You are going to be the most overprotective brother of the century.”

“He needs to be protected. There are people who would hurt him because of me,” Duo argued. He jumped up and clapped Trowa on the shoulders. “You just reminded me—I have to set up a security detail for Harry! Thanks, Trowa!”

Trowa met Heero’s eye as Quatre and Wufei left.

“I won’t let him go too overboard,” Heero promised. After seven years of reigning Duo in, Heero knew this would be his biggest challenge to date.

***

Harry was hopelessly lost. It was ironic—the lack of moving staircases and hidden corridors confused Harry’s magic-tuned brain, and had him going in circles. He had yet to find a bathroom, and was fairly sure his room had gotten dropped in a black hole.

Harry had left his wand back with his things, so he couldn’t even do a “point me” spell. He was starting to get cold, too, having not worn a shirt, since he believed he was just taking a five-minute bathroom break, not a four-month trek through the plains of the Serengeti, as the décor would have him believe.

Harry saw someone out of the corner of his eye, flitting around the corridor up ahead. “Oy!” Harry called out, jogging in his sock feet to catch up to whoever it was. “Wait up a minute!” As he got closer, Harry recognized the person to be Heero, and valiantly tried to keep himself from blushing.

“Uh, thanks, mate,” Harry said when he caught up to Heero, who had stopped and was looking intently at Harry. Harry fought down the urge to giggle inanely. “I, er, have no idea how to get back to my room. Could you point me in the right direction?”

“Which one are you in?” Heero asked in a deep voice, causing Harry’s stomach to flutter—it was like Cho and Ginny combined, cloned, and set on the sun. His skin felt so hot, he probably looked like he had a sunburn.

“Um, I not sure,” Harry confessed, crossing his arms over his bare chest. “It was blue? And had a big mirror!”

Heero nodded. “I think I know which one it is. I’ll take you to it.”

“Brilliant. Thanks, Heero,” Harry gushed, stamping down the butterflies that were starting to make their way to his throat.

***

He is your best friend’s baby brother, Heero repeated to himself as he walked Harry back to the corridor where Quatre usually put his important guests. It was the most defensible and hardest to reach. None of the rooms had their own bathroom, though, to make room for supplies and equipment. Every one of the rooms down that hallway could double as a panic room. There was no doubt Duo would have wanted his little brother there.

Emphasis on the little, Heero once again told himself.

Of course, the one person declared off-limits had to be the first person he had found attractive for six months. Maybe that was why he was so drawn to Harry—he was the forbidden fruit. But then again, it couldn’t be that. Heero had thought Harry was, to use a Relena expression, “too adorable for words” as soon as he met him. Before Duo had laid down his “no touching” rule.

Of course, Heero had known, even subconsciously, that Duo would react one of two ways, were Harry to be telling the truth. He would either forbid all contact of the romantic kind, preferring to lock Harry up in a tower somewhere—with Gundams guarding the moat, instead of dragons. Or, he would pick Harry up and physically hurl him at all of his single friends, in the hopes that a concussion would lead to true love.

Heero wondered if he would still be attracted to Harry if Duo had chosen the latter route, and Harry was still on the list of prospective partners. One glance at Harry’s naked chest answered that question.

Heero suppressed a groan and hurried his pace. The sooner he dropped Harry off at his room, the better, in Heero’s opinion. You don’t even know if he’s gay, Heero told himself. He could be the straightest straight man this side of Orion’s Belt, and he looks like your best friend.

An evil voice in the back of Heero’s mind piped up, Just more delicate and fragile, without all of the past history you and Duo share.

Heero tried to squash the thought, but it had already happened. And he agreed with it, anyway. He liked the thin waif look Harry was sporting.

Heero, loathe though he was to admit it, was attracted to people who needed to be protected. That was why he and Relena had lasted so long. As the former Queen of the World, and the current Queen of Sanq, Relena would always need to be protected.

His need to rescue people—or, as Duo put it, his “thoughtless obsession of jumping in front of a bullet to save a puppy,”—was ultimately what caused their split. Relena wanted a lover—an equal—not a bodyguard that she had sex with.

Heero was just recently beginning to see things from her perspective. Thankfully, despite their break-up, they remained friends.

“Is this your room?” Heero grunted, opening the door to the safest room in the entire mansion. It wasn’t the most lavish, but it was the hardest to get to, and the easiest to get away from, and it had a direct connection—via a hidden corridor—to the TV room, which could only be entered from inside of the room, or by someone who had the code for the lock. Only the five former pilots had the code. It seemed like the one Duo would stash Harry in.

Plus, it was blue.

Harry squeezed past Heero in the room, pressing his wonderfully, awfully, bare chest against Heero’s back and upper arm. His skin tingled where they touched.

“Yeah. Yeah, it is,” Harry said, looking around the room. “Thank you so much.” Harry turned to face Heero, again. He crossed his arms, then flung them at his side, started to re-cross them, and finally settled on playing with the drawstring on his pants.

“Heero, I just wanted to say thank you,” Harry said, pulling the string taught and looping it around his fingers.

Heero fought to keep his eyes on Harry’s face, watching Harry’s navel in his peripheral vision only.

“I mean, you guys have made me feel so welcome,” Harry continued. “I never thought I would be received so well by my brother—much less his best friends, too!”

Heero wanted to feel Harry’s skin just underneath the elastic band of his pants, which peeked out as Harry tugged his string. Would it be as soft as it looked, or was it rough and scarred, like Heero’s own?

“Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks, and I’m glad I got to meet all of you, and I hope to be a part of Duo’s life for a long time.”

Harry took a breath, then opened his mouth—presumably to say something else—but Heero grabbed Harry’s teasing drawstring, using it to pull him forward. He smashed their mouths together, intent on devouring Harry’s whole being, and Harry raised his hands to fist in Heero’s hair, groaning in the back of his throat—

Except he didn’t , because Heero didn’t, and it didn’t happen. What Heero actually did was nod, say good night, and walk away with a problem that he needed to take care of right away.

***

Harry shut the door when Heero left, and collapsed against it. For a few seconds there, it looked like Heero wanted to kiss him.

That was probably just what he wanted to think, though. Heero did not seem the type to kiss someone out of nowhere—especially young, skinny boys like Harry. Heero probably wanted someone more mature. If he even liked men—Harry was never good at telling the gay men from the straight, since back home, both threw themselves at him with equal fervor.

Since the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry had received no less than six marriage proposals—a day. He was told that number had increased, but after an incident with an obsessed fan and a Portkey, Harry had sent up a remote drop-off for his mail, so he wouldn’t really know. The only people whose mail came directly to Harry were Ron and Hermione (of course), the rest of the Weasleys, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom (who was still a good friend, after a brief post-war assignation), and Kingsley Shacklebolt, who was still the Interim Minister six months after the fact.

Still, with one gay relationship under his belt, Harry could hardly claim to be an expert on spotting the elusive homosexual. And if he thought Heero was giving him bedroom eyes, Harry better not hold his breath, because he might have been imagining it.

It was nice to dream, though. Harry would have good dreams, tonight.

He flopped down on the bed, and finally realized he was still holding his toothbrush. He blanched. How was he going to find a bathroom now? He should have had Heero swing him by one on the way back here.

Harry jumped out of the bed. Maybe Heero was still nearby, and Harry could catch him!

He ran to the door and flung it open, disappointed to find only himself in the corridor. Huffing, Harry stalked to his bag and began digging through it.

“There’s nothing for it, I guess,” he said to himself. He couldn’t go back out there—he would die of embarrassment if Heero found him lost, again. He was going to have to use magic.

Harry found his wand in the duffle, and dragged it out. He grimaced as he raised the wand and said the tooth cleaning spell. He hated the way it felt and tasted—it was like having someone vigorously wash his mouth out with soap, making sure to use extra elbow grease.

Finally, the spell finished, and Harry sighed. Tomorrow, he would have to make sure Duo gave him a map to the restroom.

***

Duo rushed to the TV Room. It wasn’t too late, so Rashid should still be there.

“Oh, thank God!” Duo exclaimed when he saw the man he was looking for.

Rashid turned around and raised an eyebrow. “Can I help you, Duo?”

“Yes!” Duo said. “I need protection for Harry.” Duo drummed the fingers of his right hand on a table. “I’ve been thinking, and I think Harry needs round-the-clock protection. There are a lot of people who don’t like me because of what I did in the war.”

“Trowa and Quatre removed both of their families from protective detail, several years ago,” Rashid reminded Duo.

“Yes, but they’re not Preventors, like me!” Duo argued. “Did Heero tell you he received a death threat a few days ago, from one of the leftovers of a crime syndicate we put a hurt on?”

Rashid frowned. “No. He did not.”

“Well, I know Heero can take care of himself. But you saw my brother—a strong wind could blow him away, much less a mobster with a chip on his shoulder! People like that will go after anyone, to get what they want.”

Rashid nodded. “I understand. I will make sure he is safe.”

“Think of what you would do if you were in charge of Relena Peacecraft’s safety. Then double it,” Duo commanded. He strolled over to the monitors. “Hey, while I’m here, do you mind if I check in on Harry?”

He pushed away the Maguanac manning the TVs that showed where Harry was being housed. He quickly found his little brother, digging through a bag in the middle of the floor.

“Hey! You’re supposed to be sleeping, now!” Duo yelled at his brother. That was the only reason Duo had stayed away so long—Harry had said he was tired.

Harry was shirtless—Duo made a note to make sure only straight men and gay women watched Harry’s room—and wearing pajamas. Maybe he had tried to go to sleep, and just couldn’t do it in a strange environment. That happened to Duo sometimes.

Harry pulled something out of his bag, and muttered something. For the first time, Duo wished the bedroom cameras were hooked up to audio, as well. But Quatre always went on a tirade about privacy whenever anyone brought it up.

Duo stepped closer to the monitor, and saw that his brother was holding a stick. Harry held the stick up to his face, and said something. The video feed fizzed out, and Duo cursed.

“This is the kind of technology you have guarding my brother!” he yelled, and hit the monitor. The screen cleared. Harry was already pulling the covers back on the bed and climbing in.

Duo turned to Rashid, and pointed an accusing finger at him. “What was that?” he demanded.

“There is some problem with the system,” he said. “It has been happening all day. I’ve already informed Mr. Winner of this. I have people searching for the problem as we speak.”

“Well,” Duo huffed, “see that you find it.” He stalked out of the room. He was going to find some people he trusted to sit outside of his brother’s room, if the equipment wasn’t even working.