Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Children of the Moon	By : aidoneuskiss Category: Harry Potter Crossovers > Slash - Male/Male Views: 11161 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ or Harry Potter they and any similiarities are owned by their respective authors and I make not a cent off this fic

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
*****

The art of war is simple enough. Find out where your enemy is. Get at him as soon as you can. Strike him as hard as you can, and keep moving. -Ulysses S. Grant

*****

Trunks kept his expression blank as the Headmaster led the way through a maze of corridors, up and down temperamental staircases and eventually past an unusually ugly gargoyle with a sweet-tooth for candy-themed passwords. Throughout the entire excursion, Trunks scouter systematically constructed a three-dimentional construct of the castle and it's innards from perimeter scanning, highlighting the areas of concentrated magicical concealment and hollow wall spaces that denoted secret passageways, hide holes and crawl spaces.

Careful notice was also taken of the portraits lining every wall and the gold-plated inscriptions beneath them. It was no great surprise to the young prince, who had suspected many of the walls to have the Headmaster's eyes and ears, that the cleaner and more trafficked walkways were lined with decidedly "light-sided" names which showed the Headmaster great respect as he passed by. Nodding their heads and straightening robes as well as their posture, while at the same time, seemed to regard Trunks with suspicion and veiled hostility. Dirtier and lesser used corridors, on the contrary, bore notoriously "Dark-sided" individuals whose reactions were completely opposite of their Light-minded counterparts. Many sneered at the old man, some turned their back to face him, and a braver few even jeered insults, though Trunks knew this only by reading their lips as they all seemed to be under silencing charms. These generally windowless pathways with their seedier guardians were traversed with perceptively quicker pace and Trunks made a personal note to himself to revisit and charm the individuals.

The saying holds true after all, A House divided cannot stand. If I win over the less satisfied portraits I'll have my own network of informants on top of the alliance with the elves. And as I'm sure the students more liable to use these corridors aren't doing so for academic excellence and a pursuit of the greater good, but more than likely some illicit trysting, the information I gather will be much more usable, strategically speaking.

The Headmaster's office, when they finally arrived, was another masterful play of manipulation in the old man's favor. It was a large and beautiful circular room, full of funny little noises. A number of curious silver instruments stood on spindle-legged tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke. The walls were covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, all of whom were snoozing gently in their frames. There was also an enormous, claw-footed desk, and sitting on a shelf behind it, a shabby, tattered wizard's hat- the Sorting Hat. (1)

Hmmm. Distraction and the distortion of the truth seem to be his first offensive tactic against everyone who enters here. The unnecessary noise, smoke and containment units of his detection and tracker devices effectively camouflage his paranoia.

The fact that the prior Headmaster and Headmistress portraits are out of order, rearranged from the chronological order of terms served described in Hogwarts: A History, to this current one of portraits with connecting frames in places of power being the closest to the man's desk, goes largely unnoticed due to the distracting clutter and noise.

The Sorting Hat's prominent display throws the observer back into their own days of attendance here, regressing otherwise angry parents into the respective and easily malleable mind frame of students confronting an authority figure. This, no doubt, allows the Headmaster to steamroll their complaints with his "I-know-whats-best-for-all" attitude.

The large desk and small, somewhat uncomfortable chairs subtlety influence the one sitting opposite the old man, making them feel small and inferior. The Headmaster seeming more intimidating because of it. A very well thought out and executed move.

Unfazed by all this, Trunks made a show of claiming one of the available chairs, waving away the habitual offering of tea that seemed to plague the English, and waited silently for the other man to begin the "conversation". It never came. Instead the Headmaster made his own show of exaggerated sips from his horrid floral teacup. Trunks eyes narrowed, recognizing the move as one his grandfather had often used on the Capsule Corporation Board members during the business meetings he'd forced Trunks to attend as a child, being the company's future heir.

"Always remember Trunks that man is a creature of action. Silence unnerves most our species and they tend to ramble in order to fill that silence. That is why the politician and businessman say 'Silence is Golden'. Your subordinates, nervous with your presence, but also competitive with the others in the room, will be vying for your attention and acknowledgement of them. Because of this, they will present information and ideas that would otherwise never make it to the drawing board. Sometimes the best items on our production line are a direct result of an employees rambling. Stay silent. Stay patient. Always let them speak first. It gives you the power without making you look the tyrant."

Keeping these words in mind, Trunks stretched out his legs, crossing his ankles and folding his hands behind his head, he leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes looking for all intended purposes as though he planned to fall asleep right then and there. Several minutes passed, in which the Headmaster made as much noise in the ensuing silence as fixing a second cup of tea could possibly make and Trunks in direct defiance of this, deepened his breathing, to seem as though he'd dozed off.

"MR. VEGETA!"

Jerking convincingly as though he'd been jolted out of a nap by the Headmaster's raised voice, Trunks inwardly tallied off another small victory in his favor.

"Yes, Headmaster?" he questioned, tone groggy as though he was not quite awake. A forced yawn highlighting the impression.

"I want to know how it is that yourself and Harry Potter came to be so close."

Trunks blinked, rather startled by the abrupt inquisition before he straightened his reclined posture into a position of readiness and replied in a carefully neutral tone, "I was under the impression that this discussion was going to be about my coursework, the book list or perhaps my syllabi. Respectfully sir, anything not relative to History of Magic is none of your concern, Headmaster."

The old man's eyes were hard and his ki rose at Trunks reply. Ignoring the truth of this statement, he pressed on: "I know for a fact, Mr. Vegeta, as it was I who placed him at his residence, that his whereabouts are unknown to the magical public and closely guarded by myself and the Ministry. Therefore, you must agree and understand, that it is rather disconcerting and worrisome to know that a foreign wizard, such as you, has been in contact with the boy and no alarms were raised. Serious charges could be brought against you."

Trunks' gaze became equally glacier at the veiled threat and he parried back with one of his own. "And what of your half-giant errand boy? Do you believe if an investigation occurred he would come out unscathed? That you would? Even overlooking the fact of him being a half-breed, he systematically stalked Harry Potter's muggle family on your orders. He then took said child from the guardians entrusted with his care. Who quite emphatically refused to allow Mr. Potter attendance to this distinguished academy of learning. Subsequently kidnapping the Boy-Who-Lived, per your instructions.

Then, in Gringotts we find your man to be in possession of the Potter heir's vault key. A grievous insult against the Goblin Nation, whom it should have been magically transferred to upon his parents deaths, to remain in their trust, until such a time as Mr. Potter came of a proper age to receive it. A life-sentancing offense according to Wizarding Law, as it not only is considered thievery, but also a breach in the contract between human and non-human beings. Worst case scenario, resulting in another Goblin War.

After this, Rubeus Hagrid then leaves Mr. Potter alone and unprotected at Madame Malkin's so that he might get a 'pick-me-up' at the Leaky Cauldron. Drinking on the job, on your Galleon, no doubt.

Do you REALLY believe the people will listen to a word you say against me when they find out that I took in Harry Potter after his abandonment and subsequent betrayal?

You would be considered a accompli if not the mastermind of that entire series of unfortunate events and consequently stripped of all titles if not Kissed for crimes against 'The Savior'. So don't you DARE speak to me about filing charges!"

The whispers among the still-life audience, filled the silence, the tension so thick between the two opposing forces it was palpable. Knowing he was at an impasse but unwilling to surrender the Headmaster played his usual trump card:

Guilt.

Unfortunately, this time it would backfire spectacularly.

"And what of the Dursleys? Did you even bother to contact them when you found Mr. Potter? It was magical folk that killed Lily and James Potter, it is quite understandable that they would be hesitant to allow young Harry to attend Hogwarts. I'm sure Hagrid could have thought of a better way other than taking the boy but he no doubt panicked.

You, Mr. Vegeta, however, should have known better than to simply keep a child you found on the streets. Did it never occur to you that the Dursleys might be worried sick about their dear nephew?"

Trunks gaped, his mind a mixture of shock and outrage on his Harry's behalf. The horrors of the child's life shared between their minds that first day in the alley came back full force with the Headmaster's insinuation of the Dursleys being a loving and caring family.

A baby being left alone in the dark cupboard under the stairs, wailing in pain from hunger and the rash resulting from sitting in now three days worth of body waste.

A broken arm at barely two years of age, having his small body flung against the porcelain of the toilet after messing another outfit handed down from Dudley. Freak had to be potty-trained because the Dursleys refused to spend more money on diapers.

Second degree burns on four year old Freak's arm when he was forced to earn his keep now and learn to cook. Pot handle's were turned in on the stovetop for a reason. Aunt Petunia said Freak was too stupid to remember simple words so, in order to prevent anything from happening to Dudley from Freak's mistakes, Freak was told find out for himself.

Aunt Marge's visits. Presents for Dudley. None for Freak. Only bites from Ripper if he wasn't fast enough to his cupboard. No food for Freak either. Freak ate Ripper's portion when the dog was away because the Dursleys were not wasteful.

Beatings when Freak started school and had to have a name. Names were for normal people and a good common name like "Harry" was too good for Freak.

Beatings for doing better than Dudley. Beatings for asking questions. Beatings for the decline in the demand of drills. Beatings for simply being there.

...Hungry...

...Always hungry...

...Worthless...

...Cold....

...Filthy creature...

...Abnormal....

Freak...FReak...FREak...FREAk...FREAK...FREAK!!!!

The snap of the wooden armrests beneath his hands, brought Trunks' mindscape back to reality. The office was trashed, the delicate bobbles and doohickeys were no more than dust and the portraits of the prior Headmasters and Headmistresses were empty, having retreated to safer frames when his power had manifested in the tell-tale amber waves of a super-saiyajin.

Trunks had not completely transformed, his eyes were still blue, but his hair was the customary golden color albeit, wafting about his face, rather than defying gravity. He looked every bit his namesake of the timeline, and as Trunks stood silently to leave, choosing not to deliver a reply, he met the Headmaster's eye. Recognition shone there, behind half-moon spectacles and tears gathered in the wrinkled corner's of lighter blue eyes, a choked whisper followed the teenager's retreat through the heavy office door.

A name. One which the Headmaster had dared not speak in nearly five decades, fell from his lips as the tears poured from his eyes.

"Gellert."

*****

TBC

*****

1. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.

Author's Note: Well, this chapter completely got away from me. I wrote one thing down on paper and something completely different here. Oh well, I like this better anyway. I hope the flashbacks were to everyone's satisfaction. The hot water thing I got from personal experience. I was making mac-n-cheese and walked into the handle that I left facing out. It hurt like hell, and was worse than it would have been if it had been just water because cheese sticks(shudder).

The whole Freak as a name thing, was a necessary evil because I wanted Trunks to be unique to Harry. He's the first HUMAN-looking person to actually refer to him by name on a continuous level. How I see it, is that his teachers probably addressed him always by his surname, as did the other children since none became familiar enough with him to call him Harry. The Dursleys certainly didn't call him Harry if they could help it and Hagrid doesn't really count because he destroyed the trust between the two of them when he tried to return him to Privet Drive. If you didn't follow all that, Trunks won't have a nickname for Harry anytime soon because calling the boy by his own name is a treat in and of itself for Harry.

The Dumbledore/Trunks conflict, I ended this confrontation this way for the reason that I want Dumbledore as in character as possible and by recognizing his old flame in Trunks' features he's going to do all in his power now to keep Trunks IN the school. Like he does with Snape, despite all his favoritism of Slytherins and verbal abuse of students and stuff. UST? Maybe. I dunno if I could stomach writing that but jealousy of future beaus seems more of a safe route. We'll see. Hell, tell me your input here and we'll see where my brain takes it.

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Children of the Moon