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 Post DH (no epilogue), and Endless Waltz


Finders, Keepers
Chapter 9

“’Ro, will you go get Harry?” Duo asked, twisting his neck around to see his best friend. He was in the TV Room, summoned by—of course—Rashid.

There were three people sitting outside the gates, claiming to be friends with Duo’s little brother. The girl was of average height, with hair that reminded Duo of a horror movie monster. The two men, both tall and gangly, looked like brothers.

Duo studied the trio carefully. The audio kept fizzing in and out, so he couldn’t make out their conversations, which was unfortunate. The shorter male was missing an ear, which made Duo suspicious. What would any of Harry’s friends be doing, that would make them lose an ear?

Besides, if Harry was expecting people to show up, he would have said something. Duo might have only known his brother for a few days, but in that time, Harry had shown himself to be a considerate person. He knew Duo panicked at the drop of a hat over him (even Duo could admit it—but only to himself), and unexpected guests would push all of his paranoia buttons.

Still, he had to be sure. It wouldn’t do to have these kids hauled away by the police if they really were Harry’s friends. That’s why he wanted Heero to bring Harry here. He’d told Rashid to let the strangers into the security building, as well—if they were Harry’s friends, he probably wouldn’t be too happy if they were left standing outside.

Duo frowned, and turned back to Heero, who had yet to acknowledge him. “’Ro—hey, buddy.” Duo whistled and waved his arms, finally getting his friend’s attention.

Heero looked up from the clipboard he’d been staring at. “What is it, Duo?”

“Do you mind going to get Harry from his room? I want to ask him if he knows these people.” Duo pointed to the screen.

Heero grimaced, turn back to his clipboard. He wrote something on it—Duo never knew what. Heero loved his clipboards, but no one else had ever seen their contents. It could be insults, as far as Duo knew. “Sure, I’ll fetch him. Do you want me to bring him here?”


Duo nodded. “Yeah. I’m going to run their names through the Preventor databases before I let them near him.”

Heero saluted sarcastically before pivoting to leave. “Sure thing. I’ll have my com on, if you learn anything.”

About ten minutes later, Duo looked up from the computer, frustrated, as Wufei rushed in. He was having trouble with the background checks.

The girl’s—Hermione’s—files were normal up until she was twelve. Her parents were dentists; she had top grades in all of her classes and was in a variety of after-school activities. There was no more information on her, until her GCSEs, which she received several of. She didn’t visit the doctor once in the intervening years, and even stranger—she received no A-levels. For a girl with a school record like her, this was troubling.

Something was going on here. There weren’t any records on the two boys. Those two things, coupled with Harry’s own lack of records worried Duo.

At first, he’d just thought Harry’s missing records were because of the war. Operation Meteor was initiated in AC 195, when the gaps in Harry’s record started, and many files were lost, destroyed, or inaccurately recorded. But Harry’s—and Hermione’s—files were complete until September AC 195, where they disappeared off the grid until June AC 200, when a blip appeared, for their exam scores, and then they vanished again.

Duo didn’t like it. Was it possible that Harry was in some kind of trouble? The fact that he hung around—allegedly—with two guys who didn’t exist, according to Preventor data, suggested that he was.

Duo pushed the laptop away from him, cursing, and stood up. “How’d you get here so fast?” he grouched at Wufei. “And where are Heero and Harry?”

Wufei held up his hands, in the traditional pose to show himself weaponless. “Heero’s taking him outside.”

Duo said a word he had tried very hard not to say on Quatre’s property. He put his own com piece in his ear and turned it on, but couldn’t hail Heero. “What route is he taking?” he snarled, stalking to the screens that monitored the hallways near Harry’s room.

Duo searched as many as he could, but couldn’t find Heero or Harry, anywhere. He pointed to two of the techies. “You and you—find my brother. He could be anywhere, but start in quadrant three.”

“Yes, sir,” they said.

Wufei put a hand on Duo’s shoulder. “Relax. Heero won’t let any harm come to Harry.” He turned to the Maguanacs. “They might be in quadrant two by now.”

Duo sought Heero’s frequency, again. “Heero. Come in, Heero. This is Duo. What the hell are you doing?”

The only answer was static. Duo clenched his fists. He wanted desperately to hit something—or someone—but couldn’t. Quatre would be disappointed if he found out.

“Sir, we’ve found them,” a petite woman in a technician’s uniform called out. “Quad two, corridor eleven.”

Duo jumped and ran to the appropriate screen. “Thanks, Deb! Good job!” he yelled, focusing on his brother.

Harry and Heero had stopped, for some reason. Duo could only make out a little of what they were saying. The audio feed was fucking up, again. It had been doing that a lot, lately.

Rashid was convinced there was something wrong with the equipment, but the timing of the malfunctions gave Duo a more sinister hypothesis. They weren’t random. Ninety-two percent of the malfunctions occurred in the direct vicinity of Duo’s brother.

Quatre had suggested that someone had introduced a worm into the system. Though, how it was able to seemingly target on person left Duo baffled.

Either way, Rashid had ordered all new equipment, with the old analog voice recorders to act as back-up, in a pinch. If they had arrived already, Duo would be able to hear Heero and Harry as if they were in the same room.

Since it hadn’t, Duo had to make do with watching their body language, and the few scraps of conversation that made it through the static.

Whatever they were talking about was obviously serious. Harry vibrated with nervous energy, his face scrunched up, as if in pain. Heero’s back was to the camera, but the tense line he held told Duo exactly how uncomfortable Heero was with their discussion.

“Why did Heero decide to take Harry down to our ‘guests’?” Duo asked over his shoulder. He was starting to get a bad feeling about this—about Heero, and whatever happened “last night” that seemed to have them both in a tizzy.

“Yuy told Harry the situation. After learning who was outside, Harry asked me to escort him to them.”

Duo turned sharply, as another burst of static came through the speakers. “Why did Heero take him, then?” Duo demanded, right as the Heero on the screen said, quite clearly, “What happened, happened. I’m finished, so get over it.”

On hearing that, Duo whirled back to the screen. Heero was facing the camera, and he had that look on his face—the one he had after Relena dumped him. The same one he wore when he self-destructed during the war, or when he jumped out of the hospital window on their second meeting. Determined, resigned, relentless. Just like the perfect weapon J always said he was.

Looking past Heero, Harry’s face was the complete opposite. He brimmed with anguish. His eyes were wet, though no tears fel. His hand reached out to touch Heero, then fell back to his side. “crshh—Ay,” Harry said.

He looked to the wall, as Heero marched off of the screen. When he turned back, Duo gasped. Harry’s face was closed off, expressionless, exactly like Heero’s.

“Heero was more familiar with the situation, so I sent him with Harry, instead,” Wufei was saying, but Duo didn’t listen.

“Did you know about this?” Duo growled, pointing to the static-filled screen that his brother just occupied.

“All monitors in quadrant two are offline!” one of the technicians shouted.

Duo ignored the commotion that caused, brimming with rage as he was. How could Heero—with his little brother? This time, Duo gave into his anger, picking up a chair and throwing it.

All conversation ceased, as the Maguanacs rushed to get out of the way.

“Duo, calm down!” Wufei demanded, grabbing Duo. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Did. You. Know. About. This,” Duo said, through clenched teeth. He shoved Wufei’s hands off him, but otherwise didn’t move.

“About what?” Wufei asked, looking around. “Everyone knows the cameras are acting funny.”

“No,” Duo replied. “Just—no.” He turned to the table, gripping it so hard his knuckles turned white and hurt. “Did you know about Heero and Harry?” Duo said. “Did you know about Heero fucking my baby brother! Did you know that he just dumped my sweet, perfect, innocent little brother!” He felt himself grow louder, but did nothing to stop it.

He was right in Wufei’s face, at the perfect vantage point to see when his expression turned to confusion. He already knew what Heero had done, then.

“What?” Wufei asked, and Duo turned his back on his friend, not trusting himself to face him at the moment. “That idiot.”

“How did you find out?” Duo asked. “Was last night the first time, or has it happened before?”

“That’s really none of your business, Duo, unless one of them wants to tell you,” Wufei said, his voice hard. “Harry’s not a child—he can have sex with whomever he wants to, whenever he wants to. You can’t control him.”

“I don’t want to control him,” Duo bit out. “I’m just trying to keep him safe. There are—”

“People out there who would hurt him to get to you,” Wufei interrupted, dismissively. “I know. Harry can take care of himself. He doesn’t need you to do that.”

“What the hell do you know what my brother needs?” Duo snarled. Wufei was asking for a beating—begging for it really. Harry needed Duo. He did. He wouldn’t have sought him out, if he didn’t.

“I’ve spoken with him,” Wufei replied, much too calmly.

Duo was shaking with rage. How dare Wufei imply that he knew Duo’s brother better than he himself did!

“Harry didn’t tell me much, but I know he resents your coddling.”

“Harry doesn’t resent me. He loves me.” And Duo loved him—and that’s why he had to protect him. Duo couldn’t bear even the thought of Harry being hurt.

“Of course he loves you, Maxwell. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t put up with you.”

Duo turned around in time to see Wufei roll his eyes. He dropped down in a chair, his weight causing it to roll back. He bit his lip and looked up at Wufei. “He tell you all this?”

Wufei huffed. “Of course not!” Wufei exploded. “He’s just like you—he never says anything! I just watched him. That, coupled with what I know of his past, told me everything I needed to know.”

“If he never talks, how do you know anything about his past? His records are spotty at best. Trying to find info on my brother is like trying to find a unicorn.”

“My cousin knew him,” Wufei said, surprising Duo. He thought all of Wufei’s family had died on L5. “They went to school together. She told me a bit about him after their one date—complained about him, actually.

“How much do you know about my brother?” Duo asked, anger draining away. He would deal with Heero later—right now he needed to know. “Tell me everything.”

Wufei shook his head. “I can’t. I don’t know much, but what I do—it’s really something Harry should tell you himself.”

Duo could feel his anger surging back, and beat it down. Wufei would clam up if Duo hit him with a chair. “Just tell me what you can,” Duo begged. “Please.”

Wufei sighed, looking around. There were the usual crowd of Maguanacs gathered on the fringes of the room. One was eating popcorn as he watched, passing it among his friends. They followed Duo wherever he went, waiting for another one of his “incidences.” They would lose interest in a moment, if he could hold his tongue.

Wufei apparently couldn’t wait that long, yelling at them until they scattered. Wufei stalked back to Duo, after putting the fear of Nataku into them, and slumped in a chair next to the static-filled TVs.

Wufei held his brow in his hands, before looking up. “Okay. I’ll tell you—what I can. Just keep in mind that this is third-hand information.”

Duo made a “hurry up” motion, when it looked like Wufei would stop.

“Harry hasn’t had an easy life, all right?” Wufei said. “His parents died when he was a baby; he was raised by relatives you didn’t like him; and up until six months ago, a serial killer was stalking him.”

Duo’s heart stopped. Literally, he could not feel his heart beat, until Wufei reached out and shook his wrist.

“What?” Duo couldn’t believe it. Everything he did to try to protect his brother, and he had a serial killer stalking him? “What happened?”

Wufei released Duo and looked away. “According to Cho, about six months ago, Harry killed the guy. In self-defense, of course.”

“Was he—was Harry okay? Was he hurt?”

“Minor injuries only, as far as Cho knew,” Wufei said. “The guy had tried to kill Harry several time previously, but Harry always got away.”

Duo smiled, weakly. “He’s—I can’t believe. . .” Duo tried to digest this new information. Harry was a survivor, just like his brother.

Knowing that Harry had lived through such a horrible experience filled Duo with anguish for his little brother—but it also lifted a great weight off his shoulders. If Harry could survive that, he just might live through having Duo as a big brother.

Of course, Duo still held the right to kick the shit out of anyone who hurt him in anyway. Ever.

“Mr. Maxwell, we have a situation.”

Duo looked up to see a tall brunette in a technician’s uniform.

“What’s going on?” he asker her, clambering out of his chair.

“It’s your brother, sir. He’s disappeared.”

***

George touched down with Harry at Gate 12 ½ at the King’s Crossing Shuttle Station. Gate 12 ½ was the routing point for all wizarding traffic entering London from space. Not that there was much of it.

Harry stumbled back when they landed, and George caught him. Some people took badly to space Portkeys. Harry had always been awful at wizarding methods of transport, so George had been ready. He would wait for Harry to regain his balance, and then take his tongue lashing.

Harry didn’t catch his balance. In fact, his weight dropped more into George’s arms, and they were forced to the ground.

“Harry? Are you okay?”

Harry didn’t answer. His eyes were closed, an expression of pain on his face.

Oh, Merlin. Something was wrong.

“Help me!” George yelled. He tried to check Harry’s pulse, but he wasn’t sure where it was. “Help me--!” He cut himself off as a Healer ran onto the platform.

George had never been more thankful for Hermione’s forward planning.

“What happened?” the Healer asked, in an Indian accent, kneeling over Harry’s prone body.

“I don’t know,” George said. “He just—he just collapsed. He was fine a minute ago.”

The Healer nodded and ran his wand over Harry’s chest, muttering a spell George didn’t know. The tip of his wand turned blue, and the Healer frowned.

He turned to the colleagues he’d brought with him, and began barking orders. Soon, Harry was loaded onto a stretcher—a real, Muggle-type stretcher—and rolling out the door.

George was up and running beside him. He gripped the end of the bed, since he couldn’t reach Harry’s hand. “What’s wrong,” he asked the lead Healer. “Where are you going? Why aren’t you levitating him?”

“Your friend has had a serious reaction to the magic in the Portkey. I don’t dare use spells on him at the moment. We’re taking him to the Magic Bugs ward,” the lead Healer fired off rapidly. “You can best help your friend by telling St. Mungo’s we’re on our way.”

“All right,” George said. He stopped, and the Healers ran on with Harry. “All right.” He was outside of the anti-Apparition ward. He could go straight there.

A hand grabbed his bicep, and George spun to see his brother.

“What happened?” Ron asked, his face pinched with fear.

“Where are they taking Harry?” Hermione called, running to them, panting for breath.

George had never Apparated two people before, but he couldn’t waste Harry’s time with explanations. He grabbed Ron and Hermione’s wrists, and took the three of them to St. Mungo’s reception.

“Ow!” Ron yelled, pulling out of George’s grip. “That bloody hurt!”

George ignored his brother, intent on reaching the reception desk. He faintly heard Ron and Hermione trotting after him.

A woman was sitting behind the counter. Blonde, pretty, young. In any other situation, George would already be charming her. As it was, he barely noticed her look up.

“Hello, sir. How may I help you?” she chirped.

“My friend has collapsed. Healer Alavi said to inform you that he was being taken to the Magic Bugs ward.”

She jumped up. “Oh, yes, sir! The Healer just mirrored in the case. If you take the lift to the third floor, take two rights, and then one left, that will take you to the waiting room.” Her eyes darted around, before she leaned closer to George. “Are there any next of kin we can contact for ‘your friend’?”

The way she said it, George knew immediately that she’d been told the name of St. Mungo’s newest patient, and that she was dying for a big scoop of gossip.

“We can take care of that, thanks,” George said, coolly. “His emergency contact is already here, and she’ll take care of everything.”

George scowled and stalked over to Ron and Hermione, who were huddled in a corner.

“What happened?” Hermione asked, clutching her elbows like they would fall off if she let go. “Where did they take Harry?”

Ron said nothing, staring blankly at the wall behind him.

“He, um, he fainted when we landed in the shuttle station,” George said. “The Healers didn’t say much, but they wouldn’t use magic on him. I don’t—I don’t know how they’re getting him here.” His voice came out thick, and his eyes teared up.

If anything happened to Harry, it was their fault. Ron was the one to get the Portkeys. Hermione came up with the plan to get him here. George was the worst, though—he actually used the Portkey on their friend.

They should have come on a shuttle.

“George. George, it’ll be okay,” Hermione said, patting his arm. She had apparently been speaking for awhile. “Do you know anything else? What did the receptionist say?”

“She—she just gave me directions to the waiting room.”

“All right. Okay, then.” Hermione reached out to Ron, still patting George’s forearm. “You two just sit, and I’ll try to find out more, okay? Then we can call your mum.”

George sat in the chair Hermione directed him to, reaching out for his brother once she’d gone.

“Do you think Harry will be all right?” Ron asked, squeezing George’s hand like a lifeline.

“What? Yeah, yeah. ‘Course,” George lied, squeezing back just as hard. “This is Harry we’re talking about, right? He can survive anything”