Cold Iron

Chapter 1: Ball Lightning

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Gundam Wing belong to their respective owners and I make no profit from writing this. This applies to this and all chapters of my work.

Rating: T/PG-13

Warning: Hints of 1x2, vaguely crude language (and possibly vulgar jokes from Duo.)

Story notes: This fic begins in the winter of 1995, Harry's fifth year. For the sake of the plot I've tweaked a couple things, but I'll try my best to make them clear as I go along. As for fitting it in the GW timeline… it's somewhere before Endless Waltz and after the beginning of the show. (Insert sheepish laugh here.) I'm sure that there is a lull in the fighting at some point and so, that is when this story takes place. Yeah. A yearlong lull. Please suspend your disbelief for me.

Anyway, on with the story.

'Wielder (noun)

'Although an archaic term, wielders are perhaps one of the worst subliminal fears of witches and wizards today. They are said to have the ability to control Cold Iron (see Cold Iron) and negate most forms of magic, but there is no official record of wielders having existed. The legend originated in Cairo, Egypt, though the date is unknown…' The Wizards' Dictionary

'I can't lie to her. She has purple eyes.'

– The Wizards' Urban Dictionary

'The Seven Wielders, defeated, waited for their time. They tried to regain their lost glory every storm. They would place a piece of pure iron on a marble alter, in hopes that lightning would strike and Cold Iron would be formed, allowing them to become great once again…' – The Devil's Bone, the Story of the Wielders

The day that began what Duo would later call The Magic Land Adventure was hot, humid and sticky. The sun pulsed down on his back as Duo tinkered with a small can, twisting the wires around one another. In the pool, Trowa completed another lap and paused for breath. He squinted up at the rapidly darkening sky.

"It's going to rain," he said, as he pulled himself out of the water. "Are you coming in?"

"Not until I finish this," Duo replied. He pulled out a screw from his pocket and attempted to shove it in. "Otherwise I'm gonna have to move all my shit back inside." A rather impressive display of metal scraps and tools was littered around the braided boy. "I'm going to get this pulse bomb working even if it means me staying out here and getting hit by lightning."

"Suit yourself," Trowa said. He went inside to join Quatre, who was quietly reading in the living room.

Duo sighed and leant back in his sun chair, placing his half completed bomb on the ground. He could feel the water and charge in the air collecting. 'It's about time too,' he thought, closing his eyes. The humidity had been building for days, until it felt like he was drowning every time he breathed in. It didn't help that missions had stopped while negotiations were taking place. The five boys were stuck in one of the Winners' large estates and, though the break was welcome, they were slowly going crazy with boredom in the static situation.

'I guess it's the calm before the storm.' Duo chuckled at his lame reference to both the political situation and the weather but then sighed again when he felt the first drop of warm rain prick his forehead. 'Oh man. Thank you God." He opened his eyes…

And jerked back in his seat, his heart leaping into his throat, his eyes impossibly wide. "Holy sh – guys! GUYS!"

A globe, about half a meter in diameter, of lightning was hovering over the pool, small forks of magnesium-white leaping away from its surface. It crackled wickedly. Duo could even smell the burnt ozone and chlorine. Within milliseconds its image had burned itself into his eyes and large multicoloured patches danced across Duo's vision. It wasn't moving, but it looked very, very lethal.

Ball lightning. Duo had heard of it before, but had never expected to see one. Apparently they were extremely rare and reasons for their appearances hadn't been found yet. In most cases they were harmless, passing through glass and bricks and then disappearing without damaging anything. In rare circumstances, they could blow up a house.

This one looked like one of those.

Duo wanted to get back into the house as fast as possible to watch the amazing phenomenon from a safe distance. But as soon as he stood up, the ball twitched towards him. Duo froze. He was sure that even his heart had stopped for a second.

He moved again. The ball moved with him.

Was it attracted to movement? Having that thing touch him, especially now since it was raining and he was wet, was a really frightening idea. "GUYS! A LITTLE HELP HERE?" he hollered.

He heard a window clatter open. "What the hell are you yelling about-" Even from there, Duo could hear Wufei's sharp intake of breath. "Maxwell! What the hell did you do?"

In any other situation, Duo would have found it funny how Wufei automatically assumed that it was his fault. "Nothing! It just appeared! And it's going to fry me if I run!"

"Don't move Duo! Just wait for it to disappear." Quatre shouted. "I've heard that they usually go within minutes!" That was easy for him to say from the safety of the big strong house.

Duo did appreciate how awe-inspiring this was. He truly did. There were probably hundreds of people who would have loved to be so close to this…ball of fiery death. But Duo really wasn't one of them. He felt like he couldn't breathe, couldn't swallow in case the minute shifting of his muscles would aggravate the ball lightning further.

He could make a run for it, but there was nowhere that was truly safe from that thing. And it might follow him inside. The idea of him running around in circles with it chasing after him was only darkly amusing for a moment. So Duo was content to wait it out, to stay stock still until it fizzled away, or whatever they're supposed to do.

But then it started to move slowly towards him. So slowly, that Duo could pretend that it wasn't moving at all. But pretending didn't help matters at all.

'Aw shit,' Duo thought, his hand tightening around the assortment of nails in his pocket, trying to think clearly. Should he just side-step it? It was way too close to throw something at it; a resulting explosion could kill him. Maybe he could throw something and the lightning would go after that instead.

The incomplete pulse bomb lay right by his feet. It was of substantial weight and could go far if Duo chucked it as hard as he could. The wires could even act as a chain if he wanted to whirl it around his head a couple of times to increase distance.

It was risky. But the lightning ball was getting ever closer. It was bomb that could go off if it came into contact with his skin. Duo looked frantically around for more inspiration.

The ball accelerated slightly.

Okay, the hammer throw plan it was. If that didn't work, Duo would run. And hide. Two things he was very good at. He took a shaky breath, held it, and inch by inch, he bent down. His squinted eyes never left the ball, even when Duo was nearly blinded by its supernova intensity.

After what felt like an age, his fingertips grazed the bomb. He grasped it along with a few pebbles in his hand. 'Good! Now I just have to stand up…' It took another age to straighten his back. It was raining properly now, drenching his clothes and hair. He felt heavy, the weight of rain and panic pulling him down. Would he be able to run in this? He could feel the heat of the lightning even though he still stood several feet away. The sizzle and steam of evaporating rain was hardly comforting.

Cautiously, he lightly flicked a pebble to the right of the ball. The ball seemed to shudder towards it. 'So it is attracted to movement. Okay. I can do this.'

His heart was overheating, pulse and rain filling his senses. He could vaguely hear Wufei and Quatre shouting something but wasn't able to make out any words. His skin was numb from the onslaught of rain.

He tensed, muscles straining, almost twitching with anticipation. In a moment between heartbeats, he flew into motion. He swung the can above his head, once, twice, and the ball raced towards him. He released the wires and the incomplete bomb sailed high above them.

For a moment, his plan worked. The ball followed the bomb in its sharp ascent but, like a dog, quickly lost interest in the proverbial stick and turned back to Duo….

…who was running as fast as his legs could carry him. His mind was racing. There was a bunker twenty meters away. Could he go there? There was a jeep to his side. Cars were protected against lightning, weren't they? He just needed to get away, get away, get away….

He wasn't able to find out whether cars were safe, or if he would have been able to make it to the bunker. Heat suddenly overwhelmed him. He couldn't hear anything other than crackling; one thousand birds screaming in his ears. The burnt-white ball engulfed him. It slammed into his back, knocking him over.

Duo screamed, his body convulsing and writhing on the ground. Every nerve was on fire. Liquid flame raced through his veins. A hot coppery taste filled his mouth as he bit down automatically on his tongue. He couldn't think. Even behind his closed eyes all he could see was blinding white.

He passed out before Wufei and Quatre reached him.

And clutched in his hand, what was once a small collection of iron nails, was now a cold metal ball.

Professor Trelawny suddenly went rigid in her armchair. Her teacup fell to the heavily carpeted floor.

Professor Dumbledore started awake from having slipped into a doze, as the mystic had been rambling about tealeaves. He looked up from his own teacup. "Is something the matter Sybill?" He recognized her demeanor, having witnessed it sixteen years ago.

Her wide, milky eyes turned to him, unseeing. Professor Dumbledore calmly placed his teacup on to the saucer with a quiet chink. "Yes?"

She opened her mouth and her spirit-thick voice swelled and filled the room. "A Wielder has been born of lightning. The fates recast. The Dark Lord, his Downfall and Thunder's Child are intertwined…

…Violet and Cold are his signs."

As the last words bubbled from her lips, she rocked and slumped in her chair.

The only sounds in the stuffy room were her heavy breathing and the dull roar of the fire in the background. Professor Trelawny shook herself and blinked at Professor Dumbledore, who was gazing at her quietly, intently. "Is something the matter Headmaster?" she asked, echoing his own question.

"No, everything's quite alright Sybill." Professor Dumbledore nodded, turning this new development around in his head. 'The fates recast…' This could change everything.

Professor Trelawny didn't look convinced. "But I can feel a large gathering of spirits right by us," she protested. "Did something occur or-"

"Nothing of the sort," he interrupted. He gestured at the ground. "You just spilt your tea, that's all."

Sybill looked down. "Oh!" She tutted. "Silly me. I Saw that yesterday but I forgot not to drink tea today." She retrieved the fallen cup and turned it over. Peering inside, she chuckled thinly. "Well, would you look at that?" She pointed a bony finger into the cup. A couple specks of tealeaves remained at the bottom and formed a vague shape. "Do you know what this means?"

Professor Dumbledore honestly didn't have a clue. "I'm afraid not Sybill."

"The Wind of Change. Something big is beginning, the ball will start rolling." She raised a penciled eyebrow. "You should be more worried Headmaster. This can be serious."

"I know, I know." He knew exactly. He will, after all, be the one to push said ball. He just hoped that this child of thunder and Harry would be able to control it on the way down.

And oblivious to the winds of change around him, Harry Potter slept soundly in Gryffindor tower. A blizzard bombarded Hogwarts, making the windows rattle and the suits of armour shiver and clank. It was nearly Christmas.

The perfect time for an otherworldly arrival.

Duo woke up and found that he couldn't move. It felt like there was a marching band in his head, his skull expanding and contracting with every beat. 'Owww. What the hell did I do last night?' Some weird gunk glued his eyelids closed. 'I'm dyyyinnggg.' A garbled groan escaped his cracking lips, his tongue heavy and swollen in his mouth.

"Duo? Oh, he's awake! He's awake!"

Quatre sounded tired and frantic. Duo tried to wet his lips. "Qua…Qua…" He breathed deep, trying to get his lungs to work again. His eyes still refused to open.

"Calm down Duo. Dr. Po's on her way." A damp cloth was pressed against his mouth and Duo sucked the liquid in greedily. The water freed his throat. "Thank Allah you're awake."

There were only vague recollections of his last time conscious. Heat and light and a high shrieking sound were all he could remember. Oh and the pain. He definitely remembered the pain. "Qua' wha' happened?"

The heavy sound of boots thundering up the stairs assaulted Duo's ears. The door clattered open and there was a pressure at his side. A female voice. "Duo, can you hear me?"

"Yeah."

"Can you open your eyes?"

That would be a negative. "Can't. Stuck."

The cloth moved to his eyelids, wiping the stickiness away. Duo slowly opened his eyes and then immediately closed them again.

"Too bright," he mumbled thickly. He felt Sally's grip on his leg relax.

"At least you're not blind," she said.

"And not dead," Wufei added. "You have no idea how lucky you are, Maxwell. Most people would have died after being electrocuted like that."

Oh yeah. The big flaming ball of death. How could he have forgotten?

Duo offered a weak smile. "Well, wha' can I say? Shinigami's luck." He coughed and then gasped at the burning in his stomach. Calming down and attempting to open his eyes again, he asked, "Wha's the damage?" He knew very well that he was probably really, really badly burnt. Maybe even disfigured or paralyzed. He couldn't feel his hands at all.

Luckily, Sally answered before Duo's realisation could hit him properly. "Amazingly, very little." There was a rustle of paper. "Second degree burns mostly on your back, your large toenails were fried, a third degree burn on your palm. We'll have to check your motor control later to make sure everything's working properly. The burn on your hand is going to leave some scarring and the some of the nerves there are destroyed, but it's healing nicely."

"My hand?"

"You were holding this." The blurry figure that was Wufei placed something in Duo's unharmed hand. Duo still couldn't see clearly enough to make out what it was. It was cold, heavy, round, about the size of a ring. It was still small enough to flick into Wufei's eye if he felt like it. Or if he could see.

"This is?"

"You tell us fool," Wufei griped.

"The hell am I supposed to know?" Duo felt around for the bedside table and dropped it there. "Wha'ever. I'm tired of you guys already." Duo gingerly turned over, careful not to shift the bandages around his chest. "I'm gonna sleep."

"Make sure you drink something. There's water next to you." Duo could hear the smile in her words. "You're getting lippy again, so there's probably no problem with your voice. Just shout if you need something." Sally wiped his forehead with the cloth and patted his head fondly before she left, the clunk of her boots fading away. The soft clicks of Quatre's loafers and whispers of Wufei's plimsoles followed.

"Sleep well Duo."

"Later Maxwell."

The door shut. Silence fell, save for the breathing of two boys. "Wha's up Hee-chan?" Duo asked without opening his eyes. The bed dipped slightly as Heero sat down. He was quiet for a moment. His hand found the end of Duo's braid, rubbing his thumb against the tail absentmindedly.

"We had to cut parts of your hair." Heero told him. "Some of the lock picks you hid in there had melted into your braid."

"Well i's a good thing-" Duo paused and then swallowed, trying not to mangle his words. "They weren't by my scalp, otherwise I'd really have trouble getting through metal detectors."

When there was no response, Duo frowned. "Heer-"

"You have no idea," Heero interrupted, his voice sounding strained. "How scared I was." "You were on the ground, smoke coming off your body. Your shoes had been blown off and it looked like- and you weren't moving afterwards and your heart…."

He stopped and sucked in a rattling breath. By this point, Duo had opened his eyes, looking at Heero intently. He had never seen the usually stoic brunette like this, so unnerved and open. His pulse jumped in his chest.

Heero's head dipped. "Three days Duo," he said in a quiet voice. "We didn't know if you were brain damaged or paralyzed or worse."

Duo laughed weakly. "Well I wouldn't change much if I was brain damaged so-."

"Don't!" Heero said sharply, grip tightening on the braid. "This… this is serious. Don't… don't do that."

A brief pause.

"Yea'. Yeah I know. Thanks."

Heero stood. "I'll let you sleep now. If you need anything-"

"I'll holler. Don't worry."

Heero gave a microscopic nod and walked out. And even in Duo's blurry vision, he could see the last heartfelt look Heero directed at him before he disappeared down the hall. It made him smile.

After being looked at carefully by Sally, Duo was hobbling about the next afternoon. She had tested every limb, every joint and had shaken her head in disbelief. "You are extremely lucky Mr. Maxwell. The chances of you coming out of that blast close to unharmed were nearly zero."

He was just a bit stiff. Even his burnt hand wasn't giving him any trouble. After unwrapping the bandages just to peek at the scar, it hadn't hurt or itched. Duo was pleased to see a pretty cool circular mark, a little bigger than the marble. It was an angry red, surrounded by a thin ring of raw pink. Sally assured him that it'd fade somewhat, but would probably still be numb for a while.

Duo had taken to carrying the odd little marble around with him, as a toy to fiddle with in his pocket whenever there was a sudden lull in conversation or if he was alone. Not that he was, as the others had taken it upon themselves to mother him. Even Wufei, Wufei, was offering to change his bandages every two damn minutes.

"Wuffers, I'm fine. Seriously! Jeez, what's with everyone following me?"

"You'd do the same for me."

"Yeah, but that would be to bug you. You actually mean it!"

Wufei quirked a slender eyebrow. "Maxwell, if a comrade was hit by lightning, wouldn't you want to look after them?"

"I'm drowning in TLC though." Duo did feel touched by their concern, but was still irritated. "Can't a guy have some space?"

"Apparently not."

Quatre's voice floated up the stairs. "Is everything okay Duo?" That pushed it a little. That had been the fourth time Quatre had asked.

"I'm FINE!" Duo snapped back. He turned on his heel and made a less than graceful exit into his room, barely restraining himself from slamming the door. He flopped onto the bed, wincing when his back twinged. He laid a hand over his eyes, immediately regretting having snarled at Quatre.

'What's wrong with me? Why am I so bitchy right now?' He could be volatile at times, but was generally good-natured. He couldn't remember ever yelling like that at Quatre, who was just concerned.

The thought was only fleeting, as his palm suddenly burned, something hot and thick pressing into his skin. He hissed and clutched at his hand, squeezing it hard. Almost as soon as it started, the pain passed. Duo, sweating and shaking, tore open the bandages, expecting to find it bleeding or glass embedded in it or something.

But there was nothing. It looked exactly the same. Duo clenched his fist experimentally. It was numb again. 'That was really weird… okay I so have to get that checked out by the doc.' But first he'd apologise to Quatre. And then wheedle Wufei into playing video games with him or something.

Harry was looking forward to the Christmas holidays. He was looking forward to seeing Sirius, Remus, the Weasleys, heck he was looking forward to degnoming the garden. He loved Hogwarts, but desperately needed a break from the school. Fifth year homework was no joke and the endless feet essays, the endless charms and transfiguration studies and the endless Quidditch practices in hellish weather were taking their toll on him.

That wasn't it either. He was still recovering from the traumatic events of the Triwizard Tournament. He saw Cedric in the faces of every Hufflepuff he came across. They still saw a murderer and liar in his. The Daily Prophet refused to leave him alone, especially after his hearing that summer, but at least the jeering messages left by Slytherins had died down a little.

So when Professor Dumbledore had called him up to his office on the day before the end of term, he was in a vaguely good mood. Freedom was less than twenty-four hours away. He wouldn't have to look at Malfoy's pointy face for another three weeks. He would still have to look at Snape's, but that was only a small drawback.

"Ah, Harry! Awful weather today isn't it?"

It was. Usually at this time of year, snow would be falling in fluffy clumps. But outside, the sky was a thick sheet of metal and lightning and thunder rolled above them.

Dumbledore waved him in. "Sit, sit. Lemon drop?"

Harry declined as usual. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Yes." Professor Dumbledore clasped his hands and leant over his desk, eyes bright but a frown had settled on his face. "Now, I do realise that you were planning on returning to the Burrow for Christmas, but-."

Dumbledore's use of past tense made Harry's chest tighten. "No," Harry said immediately. He didn't care if there was a Death Eaters horde on the Burrow doorstep. He was going back.

Professor Dumbledore held his hands up. "Please listen first, Harry." Harry looked down, but didn't leave. "An overseas student will be arriving tomorrow and I need someone to stay here with him."

That, was perhaps the single most stupid thing Harry had ever heard. He also hated the new student already.

"Why me? Why not put him with a family? Isn't this the sort of job for a prefect?"

"So you'd have Miss Granger or Mr. Weasley stay here instead?"

"What? No!"

"Then it's settled. You'll be staying here for the holiday."

Harry could feel his face heating up. This was beyond unfair. He felt sick at the idea of being forced to stay at Hogwarts while everyone else went home to their family. It would have been his first proper family Christmas with Sirius. Harry hadn't forgotten about his imprisonment at the Dursleys that summer and his fury at being separated from his friends, again, was hotter than ever. And to think that Dumbledore had the cheek to try keeping Harry 'safe' after the Dementors attacked Little Whinging…. His fist clenched and he had to bite down on his tongue to keep hurtful things from escaping.

"Harry. Look at me."

He had to force himself to look at the old man. "Yes, Professor?" he snapped. Dumbledore, to his credit, winced slightly and hung his head.

"I'm sorry," he said, sounding genuinely regretful. "But this student… is special. He'll be key in the battle against Voldemort."

That piqued Harry's interest and calmed him down slightly, but he was still fuming. "So?" he asked stubbornly.

"I don't know that much about him, but we may have to give him a speed course in magic."

"But who is he?"

Dumbledore smiled and tapped his long nose. "That is a secret," he said. "Now, off you trot. I've already notified Grimmauld Place-"

"Does Sirius know?" Harry interrupted.

Dumbledore blanched. "No, not yet. But the others know that you'll be staying here. I'll also be here over Christmas, as will the other teachers. Use this time wisely!"

And that was the end of the conversation. Harry stood and couldn't help but slam the door behind him. He smiled with satisfaction when a high pitched crash followed, probably one of Dumbledore's silver… things. 'I hope it was expensive,' he thought dully.

He didn't want to talk to Ron or Hermione. They would be sympathetic, but they weren't the ones who were stuck there. What Harry really wanted was to rant about the headmaster with Sirius, who would no doubt have agreed with him. 'Sirius better give the him hell when he finds out.'

The thought cheered him up a little, but he soured again when he realised he would have to unpack his trunk.

Back in his office, Dumbledore was receiving a heavy berating from Fawkes in the form of small jets of fire in his beard. "I know Fawkes," he sighed after patting out the last tongue of flame. "But there was nothing else. I need Harry to make friends and work together with the wielder. It can't wait. Now would be the best time to introduce the wielder to our community, with most of the students out of Hogwarts." The bird squawked. "I don't like the idea of kidnapping him either, but it's necessary." His eyes hardened. "Have you found him yet?"

The bird moved its head up and down. His target: a war torn world, a sleeping brunette and a gleaming metal ball.

Dumbledore leant back in his chair, spindly fingers intertwining under his chin. He came to a decision. "You leave tomorrow."

The next day came accompanied by heated nightmares of metal and fire. Duo woke up, his damp clothes cold and sticky against his heaving chest. His hand was acting up again, the pain having spread slightly to his fingers. He gritted his teeth until it faded, letting out an explosive sigh when it finally did.

It got worse throughout the day. He fidgeted, moving from room to room restlessly. He thought he heard voices when he knew no one was there and his sentences were clumsy, words tripping over each other when he tried to talk to someone.

"I feel weird," he finally announced that evening. "Seriously," he added when seeing the raised eyebrows around the dinner table.

"Don't you always feel weird, Maxwell?" Wufei asked sincerely. Duo just looked at him, dark circles under his eyes stark against his pale skin. He couldn't even think of a smart-ass answer. He merely groaned and let his head fall onto the table.

Quatre coughed uncomfortably. "Duo's right," the blond said, his knuckles grazing against his chest. "The atmosphere feels different in here. I feel like someone's watching us. Well, watching Duo." He looked at each pilot in turn, Duo still facedown on the table. "Don't any of you feel anything?"

"It could be the hot weather," Trowa said suddenly. Duo snorted and sat up straight again, showing what he thought of that idea.

"I don't get grumpy and worried and moody just because it is hot," Duo said dismissively. "Really, Trowa, I'm insulted. I may look like a girl, but I'm not one."

Quatre smiled and shook his head. "No, that's not it." He looked at Duo, cupping his chin thoughtfully. Something was radiating off the braided boy in waves. He had a very uncomfortable look on his face and rarely present worry lines were visible on his brow.

Heero also noticed the pained expression. "Whatever it is, I don't like it," he said seriously. "I'll call Dr. Po."

"I don't think a doctor can fix this. I think that the lightning just messed with my head a little. Thanks for caring though," the braided boy replied, throwing a thankful look in Heero's direction. Heero held his gaze firmly.

The tender moment was spoiled as Duo suddenly hissed and gripped his hand. He inhaled sharply and leaned forward, face contorting.

Heero stood abruptly, knocking his chair over in the process, and rushed to Duo's side. Quatre grabbed Duo's shoulder in concern, but immediately let go with a yelp. The blond was clutching his own hand.

Heero forced Duo's fist open and ordered Wufei to get the doctor while Trowa inspected Quatre's hand for injury.

"Breathe, Duo! Breathe!" Heero said, urgency in his voice. "Where is it hurting?"

"It'll… ah… it'll pass," Duo ground out. And it did, after a moment. Duo slumped in his chair, beads of sweat following the contour of his forehead.

"What was that, Duo?" Quatre asked shakily, his eyes watering from the brief intensity of pain collected in his own palm.

"Nothing, it was-."

"It wasn't 'nothing'. There's obviously something wrong with that burn."

"Hee-chan! It's fine!"

"If Winner could feel it then it's not a normal injury." Heero glanced at Quatre, who nodded back at him.

"Ugh you guys just don't quit!" Duo stood up, turning around so fast that his braid whipped out behind him. He was fine! The pain would go, it would heal. It was annoying as hell but he didn't want everyone clucking over him.

"Duo!" Heero followed him.

He stormed upstairs, Heero right by his heels. Duo wrenched the door open. "Why won't you guys leave me… uh."

For the second time in five days, Duo came face to face with the unexpected.

A bird, a magnificent bird, was perched on the footrest of Duo's bed. It was sunset-red with a full breast of yellow and orange and gold. Its tail, even richer in colour, was pooled on the bedspread. Intelligent black eyes regarded them and it cocked its head to the side. The room was dark, almost ominously so, but bird seemed to have a light of its own.

"Heero," he said weakly. "Why is there a giant bird on my bed?"

Heero had his gun out and loaded. "That's not a normal bird," he said, watching it warily.

"Put the gun away!" Duo snapped, still irate.

The bird suddenly trilled and warmth sparked in Duo's stomach and Heero's gun wavered. At the same time, his scar flared but Duo swallowed the gasp and clenched his teeth instead. Heero didn't notice.

"I don't think it's going to hurt us," Duo said tightly through his pain, approaching the bird slowly. It didn't move and just followed him with its eyes.

"Duo," Heero said tightly. "Don't touch it. Just open the window. It might fly out by itself." An obvious question finally occurred to Heero. "How did it get in here?"

Duo shrugged. "Beats me." After the initial shock had faded, Duo was starting to get a little suspicious too. Where did it come from? Even if using a humongous bird was hardly OZ's style, his gun still appeared in his hands.

Moving slowly, as to not scare it, he crossed the room and opened the window. The sky was still an angry gray and a sudden wind caused the gauze curtains to fly back. Duo repressed a shudder as thunder growled and was instantly, painfully reminded of the lightning.

The bird crooned and suddenly stretched. With one massive sweep of its wings it lifted itself off the footrest and landed on Duo, a polished foot on each shoulder. Duo staggered for a brief moment with the sudden weight. His palm tingled.

Instantly, Heero had his gun trained on its head. "Try force it out," he said, his eyes narrowed. "If it tries something-."

"It's fine. I'd deal with it first. Come on, you giant chicken, out you go." Duo tilted his torso, trying to persuade the bird to hop off but it just clung tighter.

It stretched to its full height, head easily brushing the ceiling, and raised its wings; a fanfare of reds and golds. It seemed like it wanted to take off with Duo in its grasp. Duo laughed. "Nice try but I'm too heavy for-."

It opened its beak and sang. It flashed a brilliant white, momentarily blinding them both for a moment Duo reached up for the bird's neck, ready to pull it down and break it. But the bird suddenly pulled all its weight back and Duo's thighs met the ledge of the window. Both bird and human toppled over, and fell.

"DUO!" Heero roared, launching himself forward. He reached the window just in time to meet Duo's terrified eyes. Heero was about to hurl himself out the window after the braided boy but a ball of flame engulfed the pair, halfway to the ground. The wave of heat swept past the window, making Heero screw his eyes shut. Heero screamed Duo's name. 'Don't let him be dead don't let him be dead.'

The fireball dropped to the ground and raged. And died. Then Duo's bedroom was thrown into darkness and only the eerie half-light of the clouds remained.

Heero clambered out of the window and clumsily navigated his way down. He searched frantically for any sign of his friend, rubbing the ground beneath him with his hands. There had to be some sign somewhere.

Birds don't burst into flame.

People don't just disappear.

"Heero?"

Heero turned slowly and knew that the shocked expression on the faces of the other pilots was also on his own.

"We heard screaming and saw – what happened– the bird? Where-?" Quatre was trembling, overwhelmed by everything. "I don't…." He buried his face in his hands. "I can't feel him. Oh Allah, I can't feel him. My Space Heart…" Quatre gave a sob, obviously hurting. "He's gone."

Heero wiped the dust and ash off his face with a burning, clammy hand. Hysteria, something he wasn't familiar with, threatened to build up inside him.

Finally, Wufei voiced the question, which had been hanging over them like a poisonous gas. "Where did he go?"

Duo was able to force his eyes open and he found himself travelling along a giant tunnel of flame. Images of people, buildings, cities, planets dissipated like mirages. Entire galaxies danced by, filled with lights and plasma. The bird's talons dug into his shoulders like red-hot pokers.

The tunnel flickered and the bird cried out. Its grip on Duo loosened. Looking down, Duo could see his feet hanging perilously over what looked like a very painful fire pit. 'You are SO not letting me go,' Duo thought, panicking. He clung on tightly to the bird's leg. He wanted as much distance between him and the smouldering ground as possible.

After an eternity, they emerged and everything slid into sharp focus for a second before blurring. Cool air soothed his skin. The bird released its hold and Duo fell onto his hands and knees. His stomach swirled and his head pounded.

He looked up, struggling not to empty the contents of his stomach onto the carpeted floor. He was in a large, old-fashioned office, but the weirdest office he had ever seen. He was also alone.

That was when the voices began, a grating buzzing in his head.

Somehow, Duo knew that it was only in his head; no earthly creature could have created such a hideous, jarring sound. It was like a constant murmured argument in his mind, echoing off the insides of his skull. 'There are voices in my head,' Duo thought dazedly. He had been kidnapped by a firebird, flown past a nebula, dropped in a weird room and now he was hearing things.'There are fucking voices in my head.' This had to be a dream.

The voices, which at first had been hesitant, searching, suddenly multiplied and became bigger, louder, overwhelming. Foreign words jumbled together and created a weird symphony of noise. They swelled to a roar and Duo couldn't even hear his own heart pounding in his ears. He clutched at his head. "Shut up, shut up," he hissed. Finally, his mind decided it couldn't take its new inhabitants. His body shut down, switching off all nerves, all conscious thought, all sensation. His eyes slid closed and he collapsed from the strain of the journey and the stress. The thunder continued to roll outside.

Everything hurt. Again. Duo was fast getting tired of having his body treated like trash due to be incinerated. At least this time Duo could move and think relatively clearly, although his head was still a bit foggy. 'Ten seconds of studying your surroundings could save your life. Just don't open your mouth until those ten seconds are over,' Heero's voice reminded him. The first thing Duo saw was a white ceiling. 'Waking up to a white ceiling in a weird bed can only mean one thing.' He must be in an infirmary once again, although the smell of anaesthetic and hum of machinery were missing. An herbal scent filled the room instead. 'I can't even last two weeks without finding my way into hospital.' Duo grimaced. 'Even if I don't have a clue where I am.'

White curtains were drawn around his bed. He couldn't hear any voices or movement so he gathered it was safe to gently move it to one side. He peeked through and promptly decided that the room was the most old-fashioned hospital wing he had ever seen, which was something, considering all the places he had visited. There didn't seem to be anyone else around.

What had happened? Duo could remember a giant bird and fire tunnel and then waking up here. Had he been kidnapped? This didn't look remotely like any Alliance base he had seen. It just looked like a really trippy nightmare.

A whisper skimmed over the surface of his consciousness, but he batted it away. When he got back home, he was going to have serious chats with Dr. Po and force her to psychoanalyse him.

This was all too weird. Duo needed to get out of here before anything could get anymore whack. He checked his arsenal before moving. He had a handgun, half a dozen clips of ammunition, maybe a knife in his shoes, which were luckily at the foot the bed. Awfully dumb of his kidnappers to leave him armed, he mused. The lock picks were still in place as well. He could make small bombs out of just about anything if he needed to, so there was that too. Duo tested his joints tentatively and, when nothing hurt too much, hopped out of bed, slipped on his boots and left.

Slowly opening the massive wooden door, the sight of hundreds of black clad kids greeted him. They were moving in one general direction, most carrying bags and talking excitedly. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice him, but Duo realised that he'd need camouflage before he went out there. He was still in his trademark black jumpsuit but he figured he's need something that flapped more. He snagged a black robe that was hanging by the door, hid his tell-tale braid down the back and stepped into the throng of people, moving along with the current.

Duo didn't really know what to think. 'An exclusive community for Goths? Nah.' Maybe this was some sort of weird cult.

Two boys, of about fourteen, were chatting enthusiastically in front of him. "We're going to portkey to Julian's place in Manchester. He says that they have a Quidditch pitch we can use." "Brilliant! I've been wanting to try out my Nimbus."

'Are they speaking in some sort of code?' Duo thought. They had mentioned a British city and spoken with an odd, extremely old-fashioned British accent. That pointed out that he was most probably in Britain. That was weird. It was impossible to get from Quatre's safehouse in the J.A.P area to Europe that quickly. He didn't feel like he was out for that long. There hadn't been any signs of a drug-induced stupor when he woke up. Duo wracked his brain for ideas of what to do next. Howard had friends in Dover he could perhaps contact to help him get out of this mess.

There was faint shriek from the infirmary. Someone must have realised that he was missing. A stout woman ran out and looked frantically at the torrent of kids in front of her. Duo ducked his head slightly and increased his pace, pretending that he knew exactly where he was going. 'I need to get out of here,' he thought, worried when the woman ran in the opposite direction. She was going to raise the alarm and soon everyone will be looking out for him.

Information and escape were priority. Phones were probably monitored. The place looked huge, so there were probably loads of exits he could use.

Duo broke away from the main stream of people. He ducked into a slightly emptier corridor and broke into a run, keeping close to the wall. The architectural style and suits of armour suggested that he was in a castle, of all places. If it was a castle, then there were probably towers from which he would be able to –

Did that painting just move?

Gaping over his shoulder at the freaky thing, Duo didn't see someone turn the corner straight into his path. "Oof!" He collided into the boy, falling on top of him in a heap.

Duo knew he should get up and keep running, but he reassessed the situation. He could get his answers now instead. He slid the knife out of his boot.

Interrogation it was then.

Harry's already crap day was instantly made worse when someone crashed into him, causing the both of them to fall. His glasses clattered on to the ground. "Ow." Harry winced as he tried to push himself up. His effort was cut short when he was yanked up by the front of his robes and shoved through a door. His hand went straight to his wand, but he was forced against a wall before he could defend himself.

The cold edge of metal kissed his neck.

Harry froze, not even blinking. He didn't need his glasses to be able to tell what exactly was against his skin.

"Do anything and you'll be breathing out of a hole in your neck," the blurry figure said quietly, pressing the knife harder for emphasis. The voice was thickly American, unfamiliar. "Where am I?"

'How could someone be here and not know it?' Harry thought, trying to shift his wand out of his pocket without his attacker noticing.

A hand grabbed his wrist. "Listen buddy, I thought I warned you already. Now where am I?" The knife tapped against the rapid pulse in his neck. "Time's-a-ticking."

"Hogwarts," Harry ground out. Where was everyone? Surely there were people in the corridor. Why didn't anyone see them?

The boy snorted. "Yeah right. The truth please, buster."

Harry glared at him. "I'm not joking!"

"Chyeah, and I'm Relena Peacecraft."

"And I'm supposed to know who that is?"

The knife reminded him of its presence. "Enough bantering already. What's the quickest way out of here? What's the nearest town?"

"Oh!" a new voice said. "Am I interrupting something?"

Harry's attacker whipped around and there was a series of deafening bangs. The pressure on Harry's chest lifted and he was able to shove the guy off him and shout "Expelliarmus!" at the same time.

The knife hurtled towards him, handle-first, and into his hand. Harry still couldn't see very well, but could make out the silvery form of Nearly Headless Nick. 'Thank Merlin,' Harry thought. "Get a teacher quickly!" he yelled, pointing his wand at the boy. "He's dangerous!" The ghost disappeared.

The boy stood stock still for a moment. "Wait, a teache-?" but was interrupted when shouts suddenly became audible. He turned and legged it out of the classroom.

"No you don't," Harry snarled, running out after him and luckily finding his glasses on the ground. Harry caught a quick glimpse of the boy shoot around the corner and then heard a yelp of surprise. It was then followed by the sound of Peeves cackling and a string of explosions.

The boy staggered back into view, covered in white chalk, his arms in front of his face. He spun around. And instantly ran face-first into Hagrid, who wrapped his giant hands around the boy and pinned his arms to his sides.

Hagrid lifted him up into the air. The boy was too shocked to do anything other than say, "Holllly shit." He started to kick uselessly. "Let me go, you… really big man," he demanded, wriggling in the hands of the half giant. His gun had dropped to the floor.

"No," Hagrid said, as if scolding a puppy. "Professor, I got 'im!"

Now that Harry had his glasses back on, he could properly look at the boy. To his surprise, he was about the same age as Harry was. Perhaps even younger; his heart shaped face had the fullness of adolescence and his large eyes didn't look like they belonged to a killer.

Harry picked the gun up gingerly, not really knowing how to handle it. A muggle weapon. The boy was armed with muggle weapons and had freaked out when he saw Sir Nick. He didn't know who Hagrid was, which was impossible for a resident of Hogwarts. Harry put two and two together.

Professor Dumbledore finally appeared in a glory of green and orange robes.

"Professor, he's a muggle!" Harry said, pointing at the intruder.

"Hey! I'm not a muggle," the boy shouted back, sounding insulted. "Whatever that is," he added belatedly. He kicked half-heartedly. "You're not going to let me go, are you?"

"Not to worry Harry," Professor Dumbledore said, approaching Hagrid and the boy. The headmaster sounded infuriatingly relaxed. Harry had nearly been killed! "Everything's fine. Hagrid, could you put our new student down?"

"New student?" Harry and the boy said simultaneously. Hagrid dropped him and, curiously, winced and nursed his hands.

The boy landed lightly on his feet and crossed his arms impatiently. There was obviously no point in running anymore. "Alright, which one of you shits is going to explain to me what's going on?" he drawled, eyes still on the lookout for a chance to escape.

"That would be me," Dumbledore said, gesturing for Harry and the boy to follow him. "I'll explain everything in my office."

End Chapter 1

AN: Well, this is it. Thank you to my old readers for waiting and for adding me to your Author Subscription lists. Reverent thanks also go to The Plot Bunny Whisperer for reading through this, even when her Real Life is sort of important. Thanks also Cappy for serving as an inspiration to me for all these long years. Four years to be exact. (Look at me, I'm all grown up now.)

I'll be very grateful for reviews. I've written this partly for my own enjoyment, partly to get the six year old plot bunny to shut up and partly to get responses and feel appreciated. (So feed me please) Whether it's a "YAY DUO!" or a thought out, honest critique, I'd be over the moon with it. Although I think it's obvious which is preferred. If you want a response, please log in or leave your email address.

Edit: I've combined chapters one and two together because I felt that chapter one by itself was rather weak and not attention-grabbing enough by itself. So now it's super long. (Chapters are normally around the 3,000 - 5,000 word line, so an 8,000 word first chapter is pretty weird for me. 'Ey.)