Crossing The Magic Line: Tension? What's that?

Harry and Heero were quickly reunited with Wufei. It seemed strange to Harry that the other two boys had such a…professional relationship. Half the time, they were so cautious of each other that it was nearly ridiculous. The other half was spent subtly competing. The only greetings they gave each other were nods before Wufei gave Heero the run down of what had happened. It was very precise with no unnecessary details and included his thoughts on the Order members he'd met so far. Wufei sounded like he did that sort of thing often. And the look on Heero's face… Frankly, it scared Harry now that he actually believed these two guys, barely older than him, were really soldiers.

Still, there was something between them. An underlying current he recognized. It was the same sort of thing he sensed around Hermione and Ron. Harry watched the two through narrow eyes. Could they…? But they called each other by their surnames. Their body language spoke of nothing but military strictness. Their voices didn't waver and they didn't hesitate in meeting one another's eyes. They acted nothing like his two friends. So why was it that Harry felt that same feeling from the two…? 'I'm seeing things,' he thought with a sigh. 'Just seeing things.'

"Potter!"

Harry looked up in surprise to find both boys staring at him. He flushed with embarrassment.

"Sorry, I was thinking," he muttered. Heero frowned.

"Don't let your guard down, Potter," he said almost sternly. Harry flushed darker.

"I have someone I must speak to," said Wufei quietly. "I'll join you both later."

Heero nodded. Harry gave him a little smile.

"We'll be good," he joked. Wufei's lips quirked before he went off, leaving the two alone. Harry folded his arms and frowned. "Wonder who he's gonna talk to and why…"

"He has his reasons," replied Heero tonelessly, but Harry'd been too close to him for too long. He recognized curiosity, though he knew Heero would never admit it.

"HARRY!"

The black haired boy whipped around, but all he saw was a flash of green and black as Harry moved in front of him, weaponless but still as lethal as ever. Blinking in surprise, he stood up on his toes to look over the slightly taller boy's shoulder. He spotted a familiar head of bushy brown with another of red, both holding out their wands.

"Ron! Hermione!" Harry said happily, shoving Heero out of the way to run to them. The blue eyed boy grunted his objection as Harry threw his arms around his two stunned friends.

"Harry, thank goodness you're okay!" Hermione said at last, hugging him so tightly he thought he might burst. Ron gave distrusting glances towards the boy he didn't know.

"We worried," he said absently. Harry followed his line of sight and sighed.

"Guys, meet Heero Yuy…my bodyguard."

Ron's eyes lit up. "Blimey…A bodyguard? For real? But he's as young as us! He must be something, huh?"

Hermione hadn't moved. So caught up in answering Ron's barrage of questions, Harry didn't notice the pale that came to her face. Heero did and he met her stare, unwavering. She didn't move a muscle at all, as if the merest shiver would make him attack. Her breath was shallow but nearly silent. She didn't dare make a sound. Harry grinned at Ron and turned to say something to Hermione when he noticed her state.

"'Mione?" he called quietly, frowning. Her eyes didn't even flicker towards him. Worried, he touched her arm and called for her again. That seemed to break the spell. With a yell, Hermione jerked back and jerked out her wand, eyes still wide and terrified as she aimed at Heero. The boy watched as impassively as ever.

"Harry, don't you go near him!" Hermione hissed. "He's a murderer!"

"What?" Ron cried, throwing a glance towards the cold boy, then to Harry. "What the bloody hell is she talking about?"

"Draw your wands now!" the girl yelled. Both boys jumped at the volume, staring at her as if she'd grown another head. She was nearing hysterics…

"Scan me," Heero said suddenly. None of them moved. Gaze shifting to a glare, he barked out, "Scan me! I know you can!"

Her voice fumbled, but the spell shot from her wand and hit him in the chest. The white light fanned out, going over every part of his body, before disappearing.

"Unarmed," she whispered shakily. The boy said nothing.

"Hermione, what the hell was this about?" Ron exclaimed finally, breaking the fragile silence. Her wand hand dropped to her side as she sagged up against the wall, adrenalin leaving her feeling extremely tired. Ron knelt in front of her and touched her shoulder.

"He was a pilot," Hermione said softly. "In the Eve Wars."

The blue eyes flickered, but he still didn't speak. Harry frowned and glanced over.

"Is that true?" Heero nodded and Harry looked back at Hermione. "What's that mean?"

Hermione looked up at him as she hugged herself. "He piloted a mobile suit called a Gundam and fought last year in space and before that on Earth. He was part of a rogue faction and he k….he killed hundreds…thousands…"

Both boys stared at her slack jawed before turning to gape at Heero. His cold eyes didn't change. Hermione slowly slid to the floor, knees to her chest.

"He's… He's the deadliest muggle of modern times…"

The four fell into silence, none of them moving. Harry tried to equate the murderer Hermione described with the boy he'd spent the summer with and found he couldn't. Heero was cold sometimes, yes…but not unfeeling. He pulled his own weight and showed his care in his own way. Harry couldn't see the boy being able to take a life at all. Still, he remembered just hours before, how he and Wufei had worked perfectly to get them out and take down the Death Eaters…

"Why do I feel as if I've walked into one of Maxwell's horror movies?"

Three gasps and then four sets of eyes leveled on the newcomer. Wufei looked at them all with puzzlement. At the sight of him, Hermione gave a little sob and grabbed Ron, hiding her face. One of Wufei's brows jutted upward.

"She knows our identities," explained Heero quietly. Wufei frowned but nodded with understanding.

"We can only hope few others will, Yuy," he said quietly. "Else we will have to use glamoure to hide ourselves."

A bitter laugh sounded from Ron's shirt. Hermione glared up at the both of them.

"I'll warn them all," she hissed. Wufei's face went blank before his fell to one knee and stared her in the eye. He was a little impressed when she stared right back.

"I doubt Dumbledore would appreciate having Potter's bodyguard mobbed," he murmured softly, deceivingly gentle. She knew a threat when she heard it, but said nothing. The boy's dark eyes flickered over her face before he sighed softly. "Look. We've done horrible things. We've killed people. We've destroyed, no, decimated entire settlements…but only military. We tried our hardest to keep civilian casualties to a minimum. Believe what you will. We do not validate ourselves on the opinions of little girls."

He got up, aware that all eyes stayed on him, and turned to Heero. "Come. We have to talk."

Heero cast a glance at Harry.

"…You'll be safe with these two," he said, more to himself than to the other boy. Harry nodded stiffly. He still wasn't sure what to think. Frowning, Heero followed Wufei into a closed room. As soon as the door was shut, Wufei whipped around and threw his arms around the other boy. Heero allowed it. He almost enjoyed the feeling of Wufei's hands in his hair and against his back. The Chinese boy held him tight to him and Heero was surprised when his own hands wound around to grip his tunic. His head was laying in the crook of the other's neck.

"Let it go," Wufei whispered softly. It was then that Heero realized his body was shaking. His knees collapsed and they hit the floor. Wufei didn't release him and Heero only held on tighter. His chest hurt, like all his ribs were broken and he'd been bound too tightly. He felt shaky, like he'd been forced on mission after mission with no rest. His eyes burned, like airborne debris irritated them.

"Stupid woman," murmured Wufei's quiet voice. Heero let the soft sound wave over him, soothing his shakiness and hurt. "No child like her would ever understand us…She doesn't have the right to judge those who fought in a war she had nothing to do with…"

Heero said nothing, for there was nothing more to be said. They didn't know how long they clung to each other, nor did they care. When you are trained to understand human physical and mental traits, you come to understand the need for touch. Touch can be the best conduit for feelings or comforts, or simply to show one that they are still alive. The five pilots understood this, so moments like these were not rare. Usually, Duo or Quatre perpetrated the random hugs, but the other three were not immune to the need. It was simply rarer for them.

Heero loosened his grip and Wufei responded in kind.

"Want to go scare the poor girl senseless?" Wufei asked jokingly, a little smirk playing on his lips. Heero's own quirked just a little as he followed the other pilot out. When they came back around the corner, they were surprised to see Harry shouting. The green eyed boy was red faced and looked near tears and his two friends stared at him as if he were another person. Hearing the others, Harry whipped around, breathing hard from his yelling match.

"Heero, Wufei, I'm sorry!" he cried immediately. The blue eyed boy blinked. "Hermione had no right to talk about you or reveal anything about you without your consent and I'm sorry!"

Heero shook his head. "It's fine, Potter."

"We are accustomed to this," continued Wufei with a sad smile. "Do not worry yourself."

His dark eyes cast a glance over the red haired boy, who still held the girl in his arms. She glared at him. Sighing softly, Wufei shook his head.

"Yuy has a job to do and you will not keep him from it," he told her. "I, myself, must get back to the others."

"What? You're leaving?" Harry exclaimed, eyes going wide.

"I have duties that will wait no longer, but I will return, Potter. You needn't be sad." Holding out his hand, Wufei smiled at him. Harry took it, brows drawing. In the weeks the Chinese boy had been around, he'd gotten attached to him. He liked Wufei's sense of humor and even the early morning training wasn't enough to want to let him leave. Wufei let go and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his black pants. They were a particular design, baggy but never getting in the way. Harry had seen enough bad karate movies to recognize the style, though he hadn't ever seen a real person wear it. Harry liked them. Actually, he just liked Wufei and the odd, brotherly sort of way the older boy treated him.

"You promise you'll be back?" Harry asked quietly, eyes lowered to the ground. Wufei was quiet a moment.

"I won't abandon you, Potter. I give you my word that I'll return." Harry changed a glance up at the other boy's face. Wufei was serious, but his dark eyes held kindness. Harry gave him a weak smile.

"I'll see you then," he said. Nodding, Wufei turned and walked away, leaving Heero alone before the trio. They lapsed back into silence. Harry looked between the older boy and his best friends, torn in his loyalties. Hating to put him in that position, Ron eased Hermione out of his arms and stood up.

"It's okay," he said. The other three looked at him in surprise. Ron smiled weakly. "You trust him so…he can't be all bad… I don't think 'Mione and I will warm up to him fast though."

Harry grinned and Ron knew he had done the right thing. "Thanks, Ron."

"Don't mention it." Summoning his courage, the redhead stepped forward and held out his hand. "Ron Weasley."

Heero took it and shook once before releasing. He glanced at Hermione, but expected nothing more than the cautious look she shot him. Sighing, he glanced at Harry.

"I'm going to retrieve my wand," he said simply before going off to do that. Harry watched him off with regret for putting him in that sort of position. Walking past him, Ron helped Hermione up.

"Cheer up, 'Mione!" he said with a silly grin. "You know more curses that Moody himself!"

Her grim expression didn't lessen. Harry frowned, but he didn't start up again.

!-!-!-!-!

Heero managed, in some strange way, to both look after Harry and keep out of sight. Every so often, Harry felt eyes upon him throughout the day but when he looked, there was no one but his friends. Hermione seemed to have made it her duty to protect him so she was at his side all the time. Ron came and went, sometimes disappearing for hours and returning later with no explanation. Harry found himself missing the close quarters with Heero that he'd grown so accustomed to. Without the other boy's constant presence, he felt vulnerable to attack.

One day, a week after arriving, Harry managed to give Hermione the slip. He skirted the others of Grimmauld Place carefully, searching out the one person he'd seen nothing of in seven days. It was surprisingly easy to find him. Harry spotted a green tank top and prepared to shout out a greeting when he stopped dead. Heero's shoulders and arms were tight, muscles not bulging but definitely tense. Harry drew his wand and slowly approached, making as little sound as possible as he moved to see what was in front of the other boy.

Saliva tripped from sharp fangs. Fully black eyes glistened as much as the grayish, scaled skin. Sparse hair trailed down its snake like body, thicker along a thin, fin-like membrane along its back. The muscles of its two legs quivered as its jaw clinched before opening again in a feral sort of grin. Small, triangular ears flattened against it's almost catlike head, black nose flaring. Its eyes flickered and a hiss sprang from its throat when it saw Harry there.

"Back away, Potter," Heero said very quietly. His hands were clutched to his chest, fingers bloodied.

"What is…"

"Tatzelwurm," responded the Japanese boy. "Poisonous. Back away."

Harry didn't move. The creature hissed again and moved one step backward, the long 'tail' of its body, which stretched twice as long as the rest, slithering rearward as well. An idea sprang to his mind as he realized the hiss was not a hiss at all, but a warning. Slowly, eyes never leaving that of the Tatzelwurm, Harry lowered himself to the ground. Its shoulders rippled as muscle shifted in ready for a pounce.

'Hello,' he whispered, hearing the word while feeling that it sounded far different. The Tatzelwurm jerked with surprise, its eyelids disappearing to reveal the fullness of it's round, beetle like eyes.

'The tongue!' it hissed. 'Snake Child!'

Harry almost smiled, if not a little bitterly. 'Why are you attacking my friend?'

'Trespasser,' snarled the Tatzelwurm. 'Near the nest!'

'Why is the nest here?' Harry asked, raising a brow.

'Enemies don't see this place.' It seemed rather proud of itself. 'Sheilded by Wizards. Very useful.'

'Well, you can't go attack us if you stay,' said Harry with a little smile. 'As long as you leave us alone, we'll leave you alone. Kay?'

'Stay away from the nest?' the Tatzelwurm said with a suspicious tone. Harry nodded.

'We'll keep clear. It's near that big tree, right?' It paused but then nodded back to him. 'Okay. I'll tell everyone to stay away.'

It gave him a wicked looking grin before slithering away. Harry got up…and immediately went cold as he saw Heero's expression. It was stunned in that strange, barely-there-yet-over-the-top sort of way that only showed up in his blue eyes with a dash of something like fear. This all faded rather quickly.

"It tried to eat Owl," said the boy matter-of-factly as he opened his hands slightly. Owl's little head lay limp against his palm, but her chest still rose with breath under the blood spattered feathers. Harry's eyes went wide.

"I'm sorry!"

Heero gave a little grunt that meant 'don't worry about it' in Heero-ese, which Harry was slowly learning. Glancing at the ground, the green eyed boy wondered how he'd missed the spattering of gray feathers on the ground. He hoped the little owl would be all right. Now worried again, Harry hurried after Heero.

The door opened before the two got there. Hermione's suspicious gaze flit over Heero to his hands.

"Owl got attacked by something in the garden," Harry said quickly, eyes flickering to his bodyguard's face. The blue eyes were completely closed off, a very bad sign. "We need to get her help."

The brown haired girl frowned but stepped aside. Even her distrust of Heero would not make her let Owl go without treatment. As soon as Heero was past her, a wide redheaded woman barreled into his way.

"Hand the poor dear here," Mrs. Weasley said as she took the unconscious owl from him. Heero followed her into the kitchen and Hermione almost thought him akin to a kicked puppy.

"Stop analyzing him," Harry growled. Hermione turned to him, surprised by his sudden tone. He glared at her furiously. "Just stop it! Owl could die and all you do is stare at him and wonder what the probability is that he'll flip out and kill Mrs. Weasley!"

"Harry-"

"No!" Harry pushed past her, intent on following the other boy. "Women are always going on about intuition and following your feelings, but yours has to be seriously flawed! Heero's done nothing but bend over backwards to please you, did you know that? Working his ass off to keep his promise to Dumbledore while staying out of your way! You know what it feels like to have people hate you for no reason. How dare you do that to someone else?"

The girl said nothing, her eyes wide with shock. Harry left her there and went on to the kitchen. He was still mad, fists tight, but he felt closer to tears than to breaking something. He'd never really yelled at Hermione before, never disagreed so much with her to warrant it. He suddenly felt very ashamed of himself.

"Potter?"

Harry looked up, meeting his bodyguard's blue eyes. The other boy looked vaguely concerned, in that way Heero rarely looked emotional at all.

"It's nothing," Harry said quickly, looking away.

"You're crying, Potter," retorted Heero. The wizard hero touched his face and found the tell tale wetness. Stubbornly, he scrubbed at his face as he turned his back to Heero. How could he do this in front of someone like Heero? He was acting like some little kid, a total brat. Harry jumped when he felt a hesitant hand on his shoulder.

"I'm told that expressing yourself is not a flaw," said Heero with a strange softness. Harry nodded a little, though he didn't turn. A few moments later, when the hand was not moved, he felt the need to admit…

"I yelled at Hermione."

"Why?"

"She's being cruel to you." Heero sighed very softly and then turned Harry would to face him.

"Your friend has reason to be that way," he said, waiting for the younger boy to meet his eyes before continuing. "I have done a lot of things, Potter. There is so much blood on my hands that they will never be washed clean, no matter what I do. Though you look past this, it is her choice if she doesn't and you shouldn't hate her for that."

Harry said nothing. Letting him go, Heero stepped back.

"I'm going to help Mrs. Weasley with Owl."

"Is she gonna be okay?"

"She's stabilized and will mend quickly."

He paused suddenly, tilting his head just a bit before looking a little angry.

"Your friend is here," he said, and Harry realized that the anger was towards his own self. Harry glanced to where Heero indicated and saw a few brown curls from around the bend. Slowly, Hermione stepped out, tears rolling down her face. Harry wanted to comfort her but he couldn't move without showing bias towards her. Closing his eyes, Heero made the decision for him and heading back.

"Stop!"

The blue eyed boy did, right in his tracks, and moved his gaze to the girl. Her hand hung in the air from where she'd reached out to him, though she didn't dare move from her place.

"Do you need something?" he asked her bluntly, his voice and expression completely closed off.

"Why are you defending me?" She sounded lost and so very confused. Harry's words had awakened something in her that she'd been ignoring and was fighting even now. Heero understood this far more than he wanted to.

"You are in the right," he said simply. "You understand what I am and try to protect one you love from me. He will not allow himself to see what I am and is therefore vulnerable."

"What are you, Heero?" whispered Harry. The other boy's face went completely dead.

"I am a murderer."