Silent Humanity

by ShadowedAuthor

Sequel now up. After a surprise attack, Sabaku no Gaara is sent to a strange new world, injured and alone. Read as Gaara tries to survive whilst keeping his 'inner demons' at bay and endeavors to find a way home. No pairings.

10. Chapter 10: A New Danger

Disclaimer: I do not own either Harry Potter (rightfully owned by J.K Rowling) or Naruto (rightfully owned by Masashi Kishimoto) nor do I make any money out of this fiction.

A/N: This is probably the fastest I have ever updated this fic, even if the chapter is a little shorter than usual. Les than a month! That's pretty good for anyone, let alone me of all people. I'm not sure why, I've just had a spurt of creativity lately, or maybe stress has spurred me on. Fanfiction is chiefly a diversion, so I would say it has fulfilled its purpose.

I hope this doesn't read like it was rushed, because it didn't feel that way as I was writing it. But it will be interesting to hear if that's delusion or truth.

This fic is reaching its climax soon, only a few chapter away now. To misquote a popular series: 'Spring is coming.'

Please enjoy, read, review, and recycle.

You can probably ignore that last one if you need more time to do the first three things.

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(Last Time)

He considered using his wand, but somehow pointing his wand at his own neck set off his honed survival instincts. The other option would be showing the bow to someone else like Draco…

So, it was going to being staying for a while.

He tied his Hitai-ate around his neck and got fully dressed. On his way to the Great Hall for breakfast, he destroyed a number of suits of armour and hastily evacuated paintings, and Draco noted that Gaara seemed to be in a particularly foul mood that morning, though he couldn't guess why. Then again, it was anybody's guess what Gaara did on the many nights he went missing but usually it seemed to alleviate stress.

Gaara noticed that Luna seemed to have been crying when she showed up in the Great Hall. Ginny went and comforted to the grief stricken girl, which meant Gaara had no compulsion to be anywhere near his kidnapper.

That evening, as Gaara was getting ready for bed and coughing his larynx up, and Draco was finishing up his Potions homework, he thought, just for a moment, that he heard an almost inaudible "Ow" come from the other side of the room. He turned but it was only Gaara there, looking wide eyed as he sometimes tended to and miming words.

He must have been hearing things.

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"Ow."

Wait, what?

Gaara's throat had been hurting all morning, and just now he had tried to cough up some imaginary phlegm and a spike of pain had lanced through his throat and in that moment he had tried to exclaim his pain and his voice had made a sound.

It had lasted for a second, but he had most definitely said the word 'ow'.

He ignored as Draco looked back at his quizzically, before shaking his head and going back to what he was doing. Gaara tried to say more words, anything, gritting his teeth metaphorically through the pain, but he couldn't repeat the miraculous feat no matter what he tried to say.

It was disappointing, but he supposed it stood to reason if you shook a broken whistle long enough, it was bound to make a noise eventually. However short it might be.

He considered taking this unusual occurrence to their resident healer, but his previous experiences led Gaara to doubt that should he check himself in to the infirmary, he wouldn't be able to check out again.

Madam Pomfrey had made such threats before and Gaara was in no doubt that she was the type of person to follow through on such promises. Plus, it was unsettling having to so closely skirt the truth of his demonic prisoner when his medical peculiarities came up.

He had a lot of secrets from the people in this world, but truthfully the ones he was most concerned about were the truths of who and what he was: murderer and host of a great demon.

Granted, it wasn't likely that they would come out over a physical, but it was a good enough rationale to stay away from that crazy medic. Good enough for him, anyway.

He got a glass of water from the bathroom and wondered if he could manage sneaking into Madam Pomfrey's medicine stores of Snape's now carefully guarded potion's closet. They were some of the most heavily warded places in the school, for good reason, but Gaara really could have done with getting some sort of pain relief; and his evasion of the Medical Wing aside, he knew better than take any potion give to him by his Head of House.

Seeing that he wouldn't be getting any relief from the annoyance under his chin, Gaara went for a stroll. He had nine hours to kill before breakfast and he had finished his last book earlier in the day and the library was a favourite hangout for some of the ghosts this year. He had discovered that a few months back when he had snuck in to get a few books and borrow a few from the restricted section.

He had come perilously close to being found by the Bloody Baron as he had stuffed the fifth book in his bag, and the on his way out he had seen at least four other ghosts milling around the place. Later, Luna had told him that the ghosts' old haunt had been beset by mice and they had been upset over the 'unhygienic' conditions. An affront to their dignity, Gaara supposed. Luna had said that they would be in the library until the House Elves had finished their pest control.

In the morning, after spending the night play cat and mouse with the professors on patrol, using his cloak to disguise himself, he was in very high spirits after his work out. Snape, McGonagall, Lupin and Filch did not look as well rested, even after they had retired before dawn for a couple hours of rest. Three of the four seemed to know who they had been chasing, but Lupin just looked grumpy and the others didn't have any proof.

In fact, Lupin looked pretty haggard, but then Gaara had been surprised to see the man patrolling the night after he had taken the day off from illness. These infrequent absences were starting to give credence to Gaara's theory that Lupin was really a secret alcoholic.

Speaking of unwell people, Gaara watched Luna stumble into the Great Hall looking as sleep deprived as the professors and sporting red ringed eyes. She had clearly been crying a fair amount. She hadn't shown up to breakfast or dinner the day before, but clearly his animal-self's disappearance had been a bit of a blow to her. Shame.

Any more pitying emotions were immediately quieted by the rustle of fabric between his ever-present Hitai-ate and the bow locked around his neck.

Luna had shown up to breakfast in a state before, for a number of tragic reasons, but Draco only shown the vaguest interest now that she was carrying a bundle of paper with her. She passed a few out to the Ravenclaws near her before moving around the Hall. The Ravens seemed to be familiar with whatever was on there as they all laughed amongst themselves and set the papers back on the tabletop, to be subsumed by the breakfast plates and spills.

When she eventually made it over to Slytherin, after visiting all of the other tables beforehand and handing out her flyers, Draco was very interested to see what the commotion had been about. The reactions from the other students had mostly either been mocking laughter or sympathetic glances. Which were the usual polarised reactions the greater population of Hogwarts had to Luna Lovegood.

She came straight to the friendliest face (a description that had never been levelled at Gaara before) at the table and handed Gaara a small stack of papers to distribute around since she didn't feel comfortable approaching all of those Slytherins.

Lo and behold, on the first sheet he saw a rather accurate sketch of his tanuki form. It was a missing pet poster.

If he could speak now, he would have said a few words Temari would have frowned at.

The posters, all identical by some spell or other, had the prominent and embarrassing sketch of his "cute and cuddly" (a description by some nearby seventh-year girls) form in the centre and at the top was indeed the word 'MISSING'. Underneath it listed a couple of his attributes, including the blue bow. So now, if anybody saw it, it wouldn't simply be a humiliating fashion accessory but instead would directly link him to the ridiculous little fuzzball drawn on the dozens of poster handed out in the Great Hall and plastered to walls all over the castle.

The posters even listed a reward of 'Four Galleons and Eleven Sickles', presumably all of Luna's remaining pocket money which stirred only the most desperate for funds in the student body. Draco made a crass comment about the Weasley boy that Gaara didn't pay any mind to.

By and large, most people were convinced that this was just the latest imaginary creature Luna had concocted, but it certainly did spur on conversations around the tables. A lot of scary or troubling things had happened this year at their beloved school, so a hunt for a made-up pet of some description helped to lighten the mood considerably.

This was why, covertly, Dumbledore leaned over and asked Fillius to let Luna off without punishment for littering all over the school. The Head of Ravenclaw agreed since he had seen how upset the girl had been since this pet of hers disappeared, real or not, and he didn't have the heart to tell her off just yet, though he might have to have a word about getting permission before doing these kinds of things.

Most everyone thought Luna was crazy and Gaara agreed, but at least he knew she hadn't made up the animal in question. If only…

Over at the Gryffindor table, Ron was looking at the poster wondering if it was even worth looking into. The money would be tempting, funding his next foray to Honeydukes in full, but he also knew his sister's loony friend and wasn't entirely sure if there was any pet to find.

Speaking of his annoying little sister, she had been the larger source of his recent family woes. Her crazy childhood friend aside, she had stepped up her creepy obsession with his best friend so he had been playing interference all year. Then there were Ginny's gaggle of other contemptible friends who didn't hold the respectable measure of fear second years were supposed to feel towards their upperclassman.

Then there were the twins. Those two, who were usually just insufferable, had been planning something since before Christmas and it was starting to make their youngest brother worry. They're birthday was only two months away and that always yielded unfavourable results for everyone around them.

What Ron had failed to appreciate was that his family issues and the ongoing drama that followed their group year to year had stopped him from flying off the handle at Hermione over the Crookshanks/Scabbers fight.

What might have led to a months long spat between the boy and girl had just become an uncomfortable subject when they had so many other distracting matters to attend to. And in that same vein, Harry had delved into his schoolwork, to Hermione's delight, to avoid lingering on the less glamorous aspects of his life.

It was events like this poster, that was soon charmed to read 'WANTED' instead of missing, and called it (Gaara) the 'Fluffy Bandit' instead of a rare breed of tanuki, that helped to liven not just the student body's mood, but the put-upon Golden Trio's too.

It helped keep their minds off of the continuous threats of impending doom, etcetera…

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

The rematch between Gryffindor and Slytherin had delayed the official Quidditch season schedule by the better part of a month, so the match between Ravenclaw and Slytherin had only become more anticipated among the fans (students and a select group of dedicated alumni). That said, Sirius wasn't bothered in slightest (actually going to the trouble of decrying it because of that troublesome broom) and Gaara didn't see the reason he would have to attend this match.

Draco had thrown up before the match, something he hadn't done since his first game in his second year. He was beyond nervous, as he naturally would be Gaara supposed considering the combination of his 'failing' in the previous one and Slytherin's only remaining chance to win the cup riding on this match.

It didn't make Draco feel any better that Gaara had oh-so-helpfully pointed this out to him, more for Gaara's own clarification than to inform the stressed blond.

After Draco had stumbled into the Slytherin changing room, Gaara looked around for witnesses and considered walking away for the next hour. He could tell Draco he had been standing in the cheap seats with their Housemates the whole match…

Ah, hell, he'd just end up feeling guilty the whole time anyway, he might as well go and be bored there.

He soon regretted his sentimentality when the first gust of icy wind blew through him and he realised he could have been holed up in Gryffindor's warm tower right now. Half of the House had turned out to cheer against Slytherin, so he probably wouldn't have been noticed there for at least an hour.

But no, here he was watching a game he disliked in weather that made him positively yearn for the arid desert sun he'd seen people burn under.

At least Draco had somehow pushed through the nerves and was flying circles around Ravenclaw's Seeker. He didn't know if he could emotionally support his friend through another tragic loss like last time. He was nowhere close to stable enough to act as a crutch for someone else.

Thanks to his hesitation in coming to watch the match, the nice seats up in the stands had long since filled, so Gaara really did end up in the cheap seats among his fellow Slytherin supporters. And it was the strangest thing, the people surrounding him didn't seem to have the same level fear they used to towards him.

He still had a clear bubble of clear space around him, but where once it was massive, not the clearance was about a foot. Any closer and his sand might have acted, but still it was a curious shift. He had received a terrifyingly dramatic prophecy, he had gotten into fights with Snape and Potter and had killed a number of dementors (but a fraction of the real number he had killed), he had caused the Sorting Hat to have a fit, a high level government Heihfhinspector had spent a day asking questions about him… and those were just the highlights of the things they knew about.

Evidently, showing up to Quidditch matches, being friends with a second-year Ravenclaw girl (one that used to be bullied frequently), spending all of one's time openly studying, going to the party of the year at the Malfoy's and showcasing a shocking lack of guile or aggression, had continued the trend away from everybody fearing Gaara.

There was also the fact he had been an oddity, being a (weird) transfer student coming straight into the middle of his schooling, so that had been eased considerably by simply being seen about the school.

Gaara had been thinking about his surroundings, so once again he had missed the actual moment the Snitch was caught and the match was called. Slytherin had been ten points up before the disproportionate number were added from the Snitch, so with that score, Slytherin were back in the running for the school championship and Draco looked like he knew that fact already, as he flew down to present the Snitch to Madam Hooch.

Slytherin were cheering loudly, belying their usual subtle natures. They would have passed for Gryffindors, though Gaara didn't think it prudent to say that aloud. He had amassed some goodwill in his house and he'd be damned if he was going to waste it on an innocent insult. That sort of improved relations was perfect for when he beat up someone or blew something up.

It was bound to happen.

Now, since they had beaten Ravenclaw, Slytherin would be facing Gryffindor in the finals. They had one more match before then but since it was against Hufflepuff, and the Badgers would have to beat Slytherin by over two hundred points, they were assured of reaching the finals. And unless Ravenclaw beat Gryffindor, the Lions would be there too. Draco said he fully expected there to be a ruling on their Firebolts by next year. They were giving them a disproportionate advantage.

Gaara didn't see the problem with that. In his world, the people with the better weapons would naturally win, unless someone else's skills made up the gap. He had never fully understood the concept of sportsmanship or fair play.

In for a penny, in for a pound. Gaara was already freezing cold, so he supposed he might as well wait for Draco to finish changing and walk in with him. Plus, he could enjoy his friend's feelings of triumph for a change. Bask in the glow of a Quidditch Hero, as Draco had described his performance in the previous year.

"Gaara! Did you watch?" Draco's mood had taken a U-turn.

Gaara nodded.

"Where were you, I looked in the stands?"

The sand trickled out as Gaara turned towards the castle. He wanted to be warm again. 'They were full. I stood with our House.'

"Oh, right." Draco was trying to remember where he had seen the gap in the spectators, but there hadn't been one. So either Gaara was lying and he'd been hiding somewhere near a fireplace, or the other students had gotten over their fear of his roommate.

"Were you really there?"

Gaara sighed, 'Yes, I was there. I stood next to miss Bulstrode. She cheers very loudly.'

Draco couldn't argue that, but… "Wait, when you say 'next to', do you mean, like, right next to?"

'Yes.'

Draco was surprised, so surprised he almost forgot what he had just been doing and how excited he was supposed to be. That lasted until they crossed paths with the first classmate on their way to the dungeons. Then Draco was back to good cheer, amplified by Gaara's good (?) news.

When Gaara entered the Common Room with his friend, he considered whether he was better off with his mopey blond friend rather than this. He turned straight back around when he saw the raucous party already raging in there and headed to the Library. He could just about deal with the highs and lows of his friend's emotions but he was still a long way away from (real) parties and large celebrations.

The party had lasted into the night, being broken up by an irate Snape who didn't appreciate having to tell off his own House for such a lowly complaint. Gaara showed up shortly after his Head of House had left and went to bed.

And then he threw a book in Draco's general direction when the celebrated Seeker had failed to take the hint and be quiet. It was difficult enough being an insomniac with a roommate, he didn't need anything else keeping him up. The constant screaming in his mind was plenty.

The next weekend was a Hogsmeade weekend but Gaara had decided he would take the day to relax for once.

He wasn't going to play with Fluffy, he wasn't going to see Sirius or Remus, he wasn't going to sneak out to hang out with Draco, and he certainly wasn't going to the Library or visit Luna. Today, he was going to stay in and do nothing.

Well, he couldn't do nothing… that would be worse than doing something. But he was going to relax while doing it. He had saved up a few books lately that promised to be interesting reads, and he didn't plan on leaving the Slytherin chambers. He might get a little peckish towards the evening, but even if Draco wouldn't sneak him some food, he would be fine without.

His first non-task of the day was sharpening his precious weapons. He had searched high and low but had finally managed to procure a whet stone with which to restore his remaining two kunai, three shuriken and the senbon he had borrowed from Kankuro.

As soon as Draco had left, Gaara had started soaking the stone in their basin and setting up a waterproof station on his desk. He had never been nearly as good as his brother at maintaining his weapons, he had never even been much of a weapons user since he had his sand, but he could get his kunai up to standard if he spent a while at it.

That was how he spent the first two and a half hours of his Saturday morning and it was as close to meditation as he could get without dipping into his mindscape and having to confront Shukaku. He had avoided his tenant for a couple of months now and he wasn't in any hurry to visit.

Inevitably, since Gaara had planned to enjoy a day of rest, he quickly grew bored with his slow schedule and ended up trying and failing to pull off the bow from around his neck. After his neck was red and sore, he gave up again and moved onto the next task.

By the time Draco returned in the late afternoon, he found Gaara quite irritable. Obviously Gaara was too driven to enjoy a 'day off', but Draco hadn't wanted to stand in the way of his intense roommate's attempt at slacking off, even for a single day. If Gaara could embrace the dilatants' lifestyle, he would never ask Draco to do one of those Merlin-forsaken marathons or obstacle courses ever again.

The next day, Gaara knew better than stay in, especially since Draco would be there this time, so he went to visit his current favourite dog in the forest. It had been a while since he went specifically to see Fluffy so he figured it was about time. Plus he wanted to put a little distance between Draco and him after there had been a close call that morning when they were getting changed.

The simple and routine action of changing clothes had become trickier now that he had that damnable piece of cloth tied to him.

In any case, having Draco anywhere near the thing put him on edge, so he was going to soothe his nerves in the only way he knew how, by wasting an afternoon on a dumb, slobbering creature (and not Sirius). It didn't occur to the book-smart red-head that he had stressed himself out the day before trying to relax by doing nothing when he could have done one of the many pastimes he had in this world to unwind.

Over thinking was the least of his problems.

He continued his slow attempts at training the great beast interspersed with liberal amounts of playtime in between. And then who should show up but Padfoot, looking particularly pleased with himself for finding not only Fluffy but his favourite (living) scary-eyed redhead.

"Lily!" He he changed back into human form immediately, "What are you doing here with the Cerberus?"

Gaara looked back at the three-headed dog, 'I've known Fluffy for quite some time.'

"Well, why didn't you say so?" He cracked under Gaara's unyielding gaze, and then though "Wait, did you say Fluffy? Did you name him Fluffy?" Sirius looked like he was going to crack up any second.

'No. He was Hagrid's pet.'

Fluffy took that moment to nuzzle Gaara's entire back with one of its noses, pushing the easily irked boy forwards a step or two.

'He's mine now.' Gaara wrote out. Fluffy might as well be his since Hagrid hardly visited the dog anymore.

"He's yours?" Sirius couldn't believe it as he looked from the diminutive boy to the house-sized dog.

Gaara stared for a second more, then click his fingers and pointed in front of his, and Fluffy jumped straight to attention and ran from behind Gaara to stand in front of him. Gaara then held his palm up and Fluffy sat, and then he pointed down and Fluffy laid down.

Sirius was gobsmacked. This was… strange, even for Gaara.

"Well, I have to admit, I'm impressed, Lily."

Gaara turned his hundred-watt glare onto full beam when he heard the demeaning moniker. People weren't afraid of him anymore, he had this stupid bow around his neck, Luna was trying to capture him for a pet, and he didn't need another reminder of his diminishing menace. His dignity was under constant threat.

Wilting further under the evil eyes, Sirius fell back into his dog form. He told himself it wasn't out of fear from a fifteen year-old, it was because a dementor might sense him and bring a full flock of them.

Watching the man turn into a dog properly this time, Fluffy barked excitedly from his position on the forest floor, but didn't stand back up until he got a nod from Gaara. After which, Gaara had to remind himself he wasn't watching two normal dogs romping around in the woods, he was watching an escaped convict in a dog's body playing around with a giant three-headed hellhound.

He dealt with an inordinate amount of strange things in his day to day life, but he liked to state it plainly every now and then for the sake of his strained sanity.

Sighed, he gave up and three sticks for the dogs to chase after. Sirius might have been smarter (though it was a closer call than it should have been), Fluffy had the obvious advantage in size and speed.

When he grew tired of it, he walked away without a nod to the animals, knowing Fluffy understood him by now and not caring what Padfoot would think. When he got back to the castle, he thoroughly washed his hands and went to see Draco.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

The castles were always quiet during the evenings, the school's temporary rules calling for students not to wander the corridors after classes in groups less than four unless under third year, in which case they had to be escorted by a professor. The latest measure against attack from the dastardly Mr Black and scarily reminiscent of the threat they had lived under last year.

Naturally, such rules didn't apply to Gaara, so he walked through the empty hallways with impunity until he reached his Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. Sadly, that was where he bumped into Potter, quite literally.

Harry had been walking from the other direction, having snuck away from the Gryffindor common since he didn't want to cause a fuss, having multiple people escort him there and then go back to the tower. He had been thinking about all of the powerful magical things he would do if Sirius jumped out of each darkened corner he passed, when he had walked into an unexpected stone wall.

When he looked up from the floor, the stone wall he had walked into quickly broke up and sifted back into Gaara's gourd and his current nemesis didn't seem at all sorry. He had the gall to pretend to be surprised when he saw Harry on the floor, as if he hadn't made it happen.

"What was that for?!"

Gaara looked at Harry and put the pieces together, 'My apologies. It's automatic.'

"What? Don't lie, you just knocked me on my back!"

'It's involuntary. An automatic protection.'

Immediately Harry wished he had something near him to throw at the Slytherin's head to see if he was telling the truth.

"What's going on out here?" Lupin asked, peering out from the door at Harry picking himself up off the ground and Gaara sporting the clueless look he wore whenever he wasn't glaring.

"Nothing." Harry ground out, hiding none of the resentment he felt towards Gaara as he walked into the classroom.

Gaara looked at the retreating figure and then at the professor and shrugged and walked in as well.

The tutorial went about as well as they usually did, with Lupin focussing closely on Harry's Patronus since it was such an advanced technique and required careful supervision now that he was practicing on a Boggart. Every now and then, he would give Harry a short break and check up on Gaara who was working on much simpler spells.

It wasn't a matter of favouritism, as Lupin had stressed on multiple occasions to Gaara, but one of necessity. Since Gaara wasn't likely to get hurt or hurt himself, at least not with the exact spells Lupin had set him on.

It was amazing that Gaara had still managed to cast a bouncing ball of bright something or other at a wall and have it come right back at him, from the innocuous illusion charm he had been trying to cast. True to function, his sand had jump up to block the incoming spell and after a bright flash, a tennis ball sized chunk of glass fell to the floor.

"How can he be so bad at that?" Harry not-quite-whispered at Lupin.

Gaara turned to scowl at the rude teenager. Sure, they didn't like each other and had at one time come to blows, but there was no call to be so discourteous.

Lupin frowned, understanding that Harry was bating Gaara. "That's enough Harry. Just concentrate on your own work and leave Gaara to his."

"I know, but should he be embarrassed? I've seen first years with more-"

"Harry, I said that's enough." Lupin was not about to let a fight break out under his watch.

"It's not my fault he's dumb as well as mute."

Oh, that was it. Gaara had killed for so much less. He shoved his unnecessary wand back into his pocket and turned to his quarry.

Lupin watched this happen and stood directly between them. "Harry, I'm going to have to take five points from Gryffindor for your rudeness, and another for ignoring my instruction." He then turned to address Gaara, "And if I see a single grain of sand within a metre of Harry, Gaara, I will refuse to teach you any more outside of lessons."

Gaara figured it was a bluff, but if he wanted to knock Harry about he would hit Remus first. It suddenly didn't seem worth it.

Lupin started, "You're both fourteen-"

"I'm thirteen, sir."

"Yes, fine, okay, you're both young men now, you aren't children. You need to start acting a little more responsibly. Harry, you shouldn't let your emotions get the better of you and you certainly shouldn't be starting fights." Lupin didn't mention that he thought Harry shouldn't be starting fights with people who might kill him.

"And Gaara, you shouldn't be rising to every challenge that you're presented with. You need to find some other way to release your pent up anger." Remus was feeling very chuffed with himself for rising to this teachable moment, until…

'Responsible adults drink while they're meant to be looking after children?' Gaara wasn't entirely sure what the rules were.

Before Harry could peer around the professor and see what the freak had written with his sand, Lupin jumped forward and brushed it out of shape.

"That was a separate issue. We need to be getting back to work before dinner." He said quickly, ushering Gaara back to his corner of the room and motioning for Harry to do the same.

When Gaara was back to working on his upper second year spells, Lupin returned to Harry and tried explaining some of the more advanced magical theories behind the Patronus' effects on dementors.

"Sir, Gaara mentioned that his sand protects him automatically. Do you know what spell he uses to control it?" This time, Harry had the good sense to keep his whispers between just them this time.

"Well, I don't like to discuss other people's affairs behind their backs, but since this is clearly a matter of contention for you two, I might as well. But, I'm afraid the answer is that I do not know what magic Gaara uses specifically, or even if it is an exact spell or if it's some form of wordless, wandless magic."

"Isn't that really advanced, sir?"

"Yes, it is. Which points to it being something else entirely, since Gaara has his difficulties with magic. There is also the possibility that his sand itself is a charmed or enchanted object, which is still unlikely but not impossible. The fact is that no matter what it is, it is going to be something rather unlikely."

Harry digested this. He had assumed the teachers were all in on the secret of Gaara, but it seemed he was just as much a mystery to them as him.

"But what about the automatic thing, sir?"

"Well, obviously the sand cannot be fully sentient, but objects can be enchanted to react to threats or certain actions. For instance," He got a mischievous gleam in his wrinkled eyes. He pulled out his wand and levelled it at the back of Gaara's head. He shot out a burst of red sparks towards his friend and trusting pupil, but before it could impact on his head with the force of a gentle slap upside the head, a thin tendril of sand flew up and intercepted it.

Gaara looked around as if someone had said his name, saw the sand and turned to the other occupants of the office. Lupin and Harry were looking the other way, and Harry didn't have his wand, so he assumed his sand had sense a fly or something else. He shook his head and called the sand back into his gourd, going back to his work.

Lupin smirked and was happy when Harry did the same, reminding him so vividly of similar exploits he and James had gotten into. "And thus we can conclude a certain level of autonomy in Gaara's sand."

"Sir, you knew my mother and my father."

"Yes, I did." Lupin was wondering where this would lead since they had discussed that topic at length before.

"It's just, I know you haven't invited everyone to have extra tutorials with you, and I was thinking the reason you were willing to do it for me was that you knew my parents. But I was also wondering why you were tutoring Gaara as well."

"Well, I suppose it is true that I took an extra interest in your education since I knew James and Lily so well, but that isn't the reason I am helping you here. You are a phenomenally gifted young wizard and I want to make sure you are still being challenged. More harm than you know has been done by witches and wizards who have grown bored and tried to push their own limits. Not to mention your peculiar problem with the dementors which did require a solution.

"Now, as to Gaara, that was in a way the opposite. He has struggled with magic since he arrived at Hogwarts and was already at a disadvantage because he was put straight into the third year. I didn't want him to be left behind."

"Oh," Harry said, "I guess that makes sense."

"It's not only that, though, Harry. Gaara is odd, there's no denying that fact." Lupin continued after Harry snorted in agreement, "He is a stranger in the school and in this country and I thought it would help him to not feel so alienated if he had a friend amongst the teaching staff to help him."

Harry didn't bother asking why Gaara's Head of House hadn't filled that role since he wouldn't have counted on Snape to do it even if he didn't have that weird vendetta against Gaara. Still, it was a strange feeling to come to understand Gaara a little bit.

"Where exactly does Gaara come from, sir? No one seems to know and none of the professors will answer."

Lupin thought quickly, "That's not for me to say, if Gaara would prefer people not know. I've said more than I should already, but I want you to try to understand Gaara a bit more. I know the way people think about Slytherins, and I know the way they act, but they aren't all evil, and Gaara most certainly isn't."

"If you say so, sir." Harry said, deferentially. There was no way he could think of Slytherin as anything but the proverbial den of snakes that it was, but he would try to keep more of an open mind about the raccoon-impersonator at the other side of the room. Although, he couldn't promise that it would add up to any more than not openly antagonising him, but he would make that effort.

Malfoy was still fair game, though.

All this while, Gaara had been trying to ignore the whispering going on with Lupin and Potter. He could just about make out the odd word, but nothing meaningful, although he had to restrain his violent reflexes when he heard the name 'Lily' in amongst the hushed chatter. The only thing stopping him doing bad things was the memory that Potter's mother, Lupin's friend, had been the origin of that moniker.

Still, the evening's tension had ruined Gaara's mood so when dinnertime came, he left shortly after Potter did and headed straight to the Great Hall to eat something, unknowingly doing a kindness to Lupin who wanted to do the same.

He didn't notice that Harry and his friends seemed unusually interested in him that night, discussing what Lupin had said frenziedly. Regardless of any animosity between them, the Golden Trio loved a good mystery and Gaara was the closest at hand.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Classes were proceeding quite smoothly for Gaara by this point. The teachers had all learned not to call on Gaara for practical demonstrations, but he could always be trusted to give a good academic answer. They also knew Gaara concentrated better when he was sat next to Draco (the only friendly face), and that the less they bothered him, the happier everyone was.

Flitwick found himself envying Snape briefly, since his colleague had gotten his hands on yet another genius student. Then he thought about the correlational trouble that followed the boy and thought maybe he was better off without him in his House. McGonagall had agreed with that sentiment heartily, especially considering how Snape had taken to the boy.

Sprout had nothing but good things to say about the quiet, somewhat jumpy boy. He was very wary of her plants, even the harmless ones, but he had never caused any trouble (that she knew about) and he had always respected her, unlike a large proportion of his housemates.

The teachers had their own cliques that they socialised in, so Trelawney didn't know all that much about Gaara outside of her own lessons, but she had met up with Albus and Minerva a few times, and Gaara had been the hot topic more than once. The only person they talked about more was Potter, which made sense considering both the situation with Sirius Black, and because of Sybill's unique connection to Harry's history.

And then there was Snape, who no one had spoken a word about Gaara to since their big blow out.

One topic that had been repeatedly raised regarding the transfer had been his extra curricular interests. He had sporadic, almost random interests in esoteric magical subjects and disciplines that changed week by week. Albus had noticed these occasional mentionings but had dismissed them as part of Gaara's bookish nature. None of the texts were harmful or particularly dark, even if a few of them had been swiped from the Restricted Section.

With Gaara, that was par for the course.

He would keep an eye on the boy's reading, but he wouldn't involve himself unless he felt it necessary. He might, if the occasion presented itself bring it up with the person in question, but the mysterious child had been laying low recently, so he hadn't 'spoken' with him in a while.

It wasn't disinterest or a lack of concern, but Albus had bigger problems to deal with, even within the student body. Yet another pregnancy in the seventh year, a bare knuckle fight between fourth years, and the ever-present issue of Harry…

That poor, overburdened child. At least he was dominating in this year's Quidditch. Benign Headmaster that he was, he wasn't above cheering for his old House above the others.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

The month had gone far too quickly in Gaara's mind. He had been under the impression that this sort of lapse in perception of the passing of the days, weeks and months, didn't start happening until one became a bored adult. He dreaded the thought that he was already having a midlife crisis.

So, he was in agreement with himself, the month should not have finished already, but here he was at the end of February already and another lunar headache looming. He was still suffering the repercussions of last month around his neck and was in no hurry to see how this month could make his life worse.

Terrified of getting captured (by Luna) again, he made the decision to change in the forest again, seemingly changing his mind every other month about where was safest to be. Still, threat of death was preferable to another ribbon or something.

As he stood out in the cold, the Winter still running strong, Gaara continued to lament the terrible choices available to him.

He had brought a burlap sack to store his clothes in for the night and hung it on a branch to keep it away from the damp and frost. He was getting entirely too used to all of this, but with a sigh he felt the shift fall over him and suddenly he was a tanuki-demon-human. At least he was less prone to ruminating when he was in this form. He was too instinctual to be thinking about his shitty situation when he was like this.

Like he did every time he was free to do so, he spent his night running around frantically like a 'wild animal.' He explored some of the areas of the forest he'd never bothered visiting before, mostly because he was bored and wanted to avoid Fluffy more than anything else.

He avoided any liquid puddles or lakes for fear of catching his reflection and being confronted with the inescapable blue bow tied around his neck. A questionable and perhaps effeminate fashion accessory on a human, on a small, furry animal, it was undoubtedly the mark of a pet.

It was after an hour or two that Gaara realised in his foggy brain that his surroundings were starting to look… off. The woods looked old, or unkempt, or dirty? There was something strange about this area of the woods, but it wasn't until he was deep into it that he realised what he had been seeing more and more of were webs all over the branches and roots.

He'd wandered into the acromantulas' territory, which was usually good for a laugh when he had sand and the ability to slaughter a couple dozen of them. Between the acromantulas and the dementors, Gaara's murderous instincts had plenty of creative outlets.

Now, however, in this most vulnerable of states, Gaara wasn't so pleased to see the warning signs of the giant spider nest so close by. He swiftly turned tail and began to sprint back the way he came, all four of his legs working hard to get him away before his morsel-like form was happened-upon by a lucky spider.

He didn't hear nor see the spider approach until he felt the sharp legs pressing in on his tiny shoulder when he had paused in a clearing to gather his bearings. The pressure made him flinch and spin around on all fours, but by then the spider was all around him and spinning a web on his back.

Gaara thrashed around and tried to manoeuvre his tail into position to beat the arachnid off of him but despite being as tall as his human form, it was quick and versatile and stayed out of the way. And then he felt his tail get stuck to his back, and he knew if he didn't stop the spider soon, he would be cocooned in two minutes.

The spider was turning him then, trying to cover him totally and evenly for what was to come afterwards. Gaara tried to extend his legs and break the web with force but it was too strong for his meagre strength. He extended his tiny claws to cut through the sack covering him, but they weren't long enough to break through and any damage he made was covered by another two layers in seconds.

His last resort was instinctual, totally out of Gaara's conscious control. He called out for help.

It was a whining howl that Gaara had heard once or twice in his childhood when an animal could no longer fight or run away. A human might have accepted their fate, but the animals always called out, and now Gaara's weird animalistic brain had forced him to do the same.

He hadn't planned to do it, and after he had made the pathetic noise, he hadn't expected anything to come of it, except for the spider to pause in its preparations to make sure he wasn't escaping.

Gaara certainly hadn't expected to hear, as he strained against his cocoon with all of his diminished might, the sound of four feet hitting the ground in sequence nearby. He hadn't expected the startled cry the spider on top of him gave as that approaching quadruped neared. Least of all, he hadn't expected to feel the nightmarish creature being tackle off of him by the interloper.

Imprisoned as he was, Gaara could only listen to the sounds of the fight going on right by his defenceless body. Whoever had saved him deserved a lot of gratitude since death by spider would not have been pretty and would not have been quick, if his text books had been reliable.

The spider made a sound Gaara wasn't familiar with, but it didn't make any more afterwards so he thought he would be safe for the time being.

Whatever had come to his rescue, it wasn't a centaur since they didn't like Gaara and stayed away from him, plus they were more likely to talk to him after the threat was disposed of, instead of nudging him with their nose. For a moment he wondered if it was one of the canines he knew, but the warbling, low howl sounded nothing like Padfoot's bark or Fluffy's booming woofs.

The wet nose against his side opened to teeth and started to gnaw at the webs binding him. They were careful and didn't do more than nip at the webs until his arm was free to reach up and tear away the covering from his head. As soon as his face was free, Gaara reconsidered whether he was better off with the spider.

There, in front of him, stood a full-grown, transformed werewolf. And it looked very interested in Gaara.

He did not let out a whine.

He stared, motionless, up at the gigantic wolf, wondering when the new attack would commence. The spider had been quick, and its movements had been unpredictable, but the animal above him would be much simpler to counter. Though, he still didn't much like his chances considering the size difference, all it would take was for the werewolf to lunge at Gaara's unprotected throat and there was little he could do about it with his arms still caught in the remains of the webbing. It would take precious seconds he couldn't afford to untangle himself.

He watched the wolf sniff at him and then nudge him with its snout. It took a good long look at the bow around his neck, but didn't pay it much mind after finding it wouldn't come off with a toothy pull. Eventually, the beast sat back on its haunches and watched Gaara, as if expecting something. When Gaara still made no move, wondering if playing dead would actually work for once.

He'd come across a few genin in his own world, a couple of years ago, that had thought staying still would hide them from him. It didn't.

The wolf grew impatient as quickly as one would expect of a wild animal and started to shift and fidget, throwing a few irritable barks his way. When it looked like the wolf would move back towards him, Gaara ever so slowly climbed out of the ripped cocoon.

He immediately dropped down onto four paws when the wolf gave him a look bordering on aggression, but now he was up, he still didn't want to move.

Last month had been humiliation, this month was unsettling. Gaara had always been the predator in his life. He had killed so many, and yet here he was, nothing more than prey, struggling to move before a bigger threat.

Was dignity some foreign presence in this world?!

He couldn't work himself into any sort of state since the wolf had started forward again towards him, slowly this time, and he didn't want to introduce any agitation to the already fraught situation.

As best he could, Gaara tried to act casual, moving slowly but not fearfully. The wolf continued to examine him, clearly trying to figure out what Gaara was, or perhaps if he was edible. Eventually, when Gaara tail had 'casually' swayed into a position where he could swing it full-force into the wolf's side to get enough of a lead to run away, the wolf gave one of his large, blue-tipped ears a lick, woofed, and then started to jump about.

Gaara had seen this exact behaviour very recently, though watching a playful canine hop around was less amusing when it was an adult werewolf with perpetually dripping fangs and a number of scars crisscrossing its body.

Gaara had two options at this juncture: he could swing his tail and make a run for it, hiding from the wolf until dawn; or he could play along, quite literally, and try not to upset the big bad wolf.

He sighed, a gesture that was still strange in this inhuman body.

He darted away from the wolf and then circled back around, initiating the game of tag.

Gaara had heard about werewolves, about how they were vicious to everyone and everything that wasn't one of their own, about how they transformed, and how they could transfer their plague with a bite or a scratch when in their animal form. Gaara had NOT heard about how werewolves likes to play inexhaustibly all through the night.

More than once, they had played tug-of-war with a stick or root one of them picked up. Gaara would be brushing his teeth as soon as he got to his room.

By the time the sun ought to be arriving soon, Gaara was worn out, a feeling he had not come to associate with his tanuki-hybrid body. Seeing as they were both human when the sun was shining, Gaara was hoping the adult creature would let him leave before they both reverted since he didn't feel like being exposed (in both senses) to some stranger. The probable Hogsmeade citizen would likely feel the same if he had retained his faculties like Gaara did.

The Wolfsbane potion did wonders for the disposition of werewolves, Draco had explained in lieu of Snape for obvious reasons, but it was still the animal in control. At the beginning of the night, Gaara had thought the being was unmedicated and thus likely to attack, but it turned out that it had been dosed and was instead jovial.

The werewolf took a sniff at the lightening skies and went bounding off into the woods without a look back at his companion for the night.

Gaara would pretend it never happened, and the wolf wouldn't remember enough to contradict him anyway.

He went running towards he left his clothes the night before, desperate not to change before they were in his arms. As he made his way, Gaara considered how his last few moons had been pretty awful: he'd been chased around the castle, he'd had a quiet one, then Luna had kidnapped him, and tonight he had been attacked by an acromantula and a werewolf.

That was how he would tell the story, if ever there came opportunity to tell it, that he had bravely fought off the giant spider and the wolf, and escaped with his pelt and his dignity in one piece.

Speaking of the little Ravenclaw girl who was one small step out of sync with the rest of the wizarding world, she had been up the entire night frantically searching the entire castle from top to bottom, including the surrounding grounds for her lost fluffy pet. Well, that had been the plan. She had been interrupted before she could make it outside, caught in the middle of a yawn by McGonagall who always stayed up an extra hour on full-moons because of the students' tendency to make mischief.

Bloody lunatics.

She had dragged Luna back to the Ravenclaw dormitory and had woken Flitwick in his adjoining quarters to dish out the necessary reprimand. Luna had received a week's detention for breaking curfew, but all she cared about was not finding her cute pet tanuki.

And the adults hadn't cared at all, thinking her latest hunt was just another eccentricity. It was so frustrating always being right and never being believed, sometimes.

Draco, on the other hand, had had another sound night's sleep.

Originally, Gaara had been knocking Draco out every full moon in various ways to avoid the questions about his disappearance during the night. But since Gaara rarely went more than four days without spending a night outside of their dormitory, he had realised assaulting his friend on those specific nights would leave more of a trail than just pretending he spent the night elsewhere again.

A part of him would miss inflicting that minor violence against his pompous roommate, though.

Again, Gaara's throat was killing him after his body had reverted to the much more comfortable and deadly format, but he chalked it up to the cold nights and his warm temperament. He suspected he was suffering from his first cold, according the symptoms he had been told about.

His one and only friend back home had managed to catch one before visiting Suna that one time, and everyone had mocked him for catching a cold in summer. Gaara thought it was strange to mock the afflicted, especially since his reform, but he also wondered how a Jinchūriki with an even stronger life force than his own could have caught a virus.

Still, it didn't bode well for Gaara since being 'ill' appeared to be an intensely unpleasant experience.

In the Great Hall that morning, Gaara drank a great deal of milk to soothe his sore throat, and wondered how one fought off a cold. Perhaps the wizards had done something useful for once and cured the common cold. Draco said they had not.

Luna moped into her cereal, fighting back tears and fighting off the drowsiness that threatened to drown her in her Cheerios.

Lupin was forced to show up to breakfast despite his recovery only just beginning. Dumbledore had suggested he do this every few months to stop people recognising the pattern of absences. He was in a terrible state despite the Wolfsbane potion he had taken, with both the physical strain and the mental unease, remembering flickers of the night before.

Usually this entailed a few grizzly highlights including eating a couple of rabbits, or fighting acromantulas or being run off by the centaurs. This morning, however, he remembered one interesting thing. After the obligatory running and fighting, he recalled seeing a small fluffy-tailed creature and had played with it all through the night, much like he had when he was younger, with Padfoot and Prongs.

He realised with a start, jarring a headache into full swing from the sudden motion, that the young animal had bourn a striking resemblance to the unusual animal that the odd Ravenclaw girl had reported missing towards the end of January. Now that he thought about it, he was pretty sure the bizarre little thing had been wearing the bow around its neck that the posters had specified.

Lupin sighed and wondered how he could persuade Poppy to give him something intoxicating to get through the day's classes. He knew he wasn't the first teacher to ask, probably not even the first to ask that day when Trelawney had been spotted outside of her tower, but it would be worth a try.

Thoughts of mind numbing potions effectively distracted him from the oddity he had encountered the night before.

Draco, still yawning the last of his good night's sleep from his system, looked over at Gaara who appeared to be as agitated as he most often was after his nights away from his bed. He was wondering what his humanoid typhoon of a roommate was playing with under the table, and then he saw that strange dark knife he carried flash in the morning light.

"Gaara, stop whittling your wand!" He whispered incredulously.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

It was in the first week of March that Gaara read the Daily Prophet for the first time, after Draco mentioned an interesting (important) article of the front page. Gaara had never cared to read the paper, both because it pertained to events he felt had no relevance to him, and because even Draco (after talking with the uninitiated moderates) admitted it was biased and badly written.

Just from reading the front page, Gaara agreed with at least that last point.

The reason he had snatched the paper away from his friend, and ignored the angry shouting afterwards, was because Draco had read this headline aloud: 'Black to be Kissed, Orders Fudge.'

It didn't occur to Gaara that the dementors would be involved in this, his mind was caught up in the scandalous orders given by the head of magical Britain. His imagination conjured up the vision of Sirius being pursued by a dozen desperate middle-aged women trying to kiss him.

It was a disturbing thought.

Then he read the rest of the article as was immensely glad he hadn't broadcasted his immature musing to anyone close by. The truth of the matter made him feel sick, understanding how damaging the loss of a soul could be someone. In theory.

The article told of how the investigation had failed to apprehend the fugitive and that the administration was redoubling their efforts, highlighting the increased 'patrols' (because they didn't want to bring anyone's attention to the dementors). It stated that when asked, Minster Fudge had revealed that the order was no to 'Kiss on Sight.'

It was sickening, not just the terrible fate Sirius would now suffer should he be caught, but also the smiles and laughs around the Hall from people also reading the Prophet. Maybe it was because he had never been involved in the criminal justice system in his home village, or because the individual villages had their own centralised systems so they were simpler; in any case, the injustice being perpetrated against Sirius was entirely foreign to Gaara, and very upsetting.

Granted, shinobi could be framed and taken in as traitors, but they were always thoroughly interrogated. They almost always found out if a person was innocent or guilty once they were in T&I cells of any village. As Sirius told it, he hadn't even had a trial (the convoluted Earth version of interrogation, as far as Gaara understood.)

Suddenly cross with the student body, Gaara was happy to follow Draco back to the dormitory where he was less likely to do something malevolent. That thought lasted until Draco stopped in front of the one room in the Dungeons that Gaara had stepped foot in for months.

Technically he had burgled the closet opposite the Potion's classroom not too long ago, but he hadn't stepped foot in Snape's actual classroom since their 'spat.'

Gaara couldn't blame Draco for his double-take when he turned around and saw him. Gaara walked quietly, as anyone in his profession would, so it was perfectly understandable that he had been overlooked.

"Oh, um Gaara, I didn't see you. You should, um, go ahead to the dorms. I'll see you in bit." Draco was rightfully nervous; Snape had the hearing of some kind of sonar-capable animal, and there was no telling what he would overhear through a door or when he pop out.

The door creaked open.

Snape poked his head out of the door, expecting half of what he saw, a student needing advice on an assignment, content to interrupt his precious and rare free time (spent working) without any due regard. He had not expected to see Gaara, of all people, stood next to the student (that he would have helped anyway, after the griping.)

Snape had been in a comparatively goof mood until that moment.

"Don't tell me you want to come back to my class." He said, his eyebrow quirking along with his lip.

Gaara didn't answer, he just continued to stare.

"Because, while the headmaster may have strong-armed into letting you join my class, I have a much higher standard for admittance, and you certainly do not measure up. I don't care what that- what Lupin has been filling your head with, you're still useless. I won't permit dangerous entities into my Potions laboratory."

Rather than rising to the continued barbs or making a cutting retort, Gaara wrote out, 'Why do you hate me so much?'

Snape took a moment to look at the question, something passing over his face before twitching back to his contemptible default. "You are a killer, boy. I don't care what lies you have been plying Dumbledore with, we both know you have killed people."

Draco was wide eyed, hearing some of his worst suspicions mentioned bitingly, aloud, and not seeing any kind of denial or anger on Gaara's face.

"I know that look, those eyes. It's disgusting, seeing that look on those eyes. Any magic you learn would only be an effort to bolster your fighting power, and I will not be a party to that. Worst of all, I hate reminders, and you are a product of some sort of war. I don't care which one, or where, but you were used as a weapon and you do not belong in this school."

Draco watched, very upset by the exchange but unsure how to break it without being pulled in, as Gaara had been verbally assaulted and just stood there and took it. That had been the worst part.

Gaara had left shortly after that, and while Draco would have rather gone with him and not interacted with his otherwise perfectly good Potions professor and Head of House, if he did that then there had been no reason for Gaara to go through that. As soon as his questions had been answered and Snape had let himself back into his quarters to consider whether or not to take up drinking as a hobby, Draco had rushed onwards to the dorms, hoping that Gaara would still be there.

Otherwise there would be a good chance he wouldn't see him again until classes tomorrow.

Not a whole lot upset Gaara, as far as Draco was aware, but this had surely penetrated his thick skin, and he wanted to be of some comfort to his friend. With this in mind, he was surprised to find his roommate sat on his bed reading, as if nothing at all had happened.

Gaara's head had briefly popped up when Draco entered, but had sunk back into the obligatory thick book shortly thereafter.

"Gaara, are you okay?"

Gaara looked up again, assessed what the questioned referred to and answered, 'I am fine. I am used to those words.'

"You're used to them?" Draco had never properly understood the abject terror Gaara inspired. Sure, he was a little intense at times, and he tended to stare, but where had all of this 'killer' talk come from? If it had come from that ridiculous (and fraudulent) Divination teacher, his father would be having words about her. About time, too.

'When I was growing up, in my home village, my brother and sister were the only people who never wanted to kill me. The others said worse things about me and to me. So I'm used to it.'

Gaara looked on at Draco's stunned expression and decided to leave for the night. His friend's speechlessness wouldn't last much longer, and this sort of thing was the reason he had tried to avoid discussing anything personal from his home world. He wanted to trust his friend, but there were some truths that he just didn't want to have to confront here.

Here, he was a child, albeit an unsettling and violent one. He wasn't the boy who had murdered men, women, and children, and who was host to a great evil inside of him.

It was a nice illusion that he was content to enjoy for a little while longer, until the bubble burst.

He got to his feet and quickly stepped out of the room for the night. He's show up again in the morning when there were too many people around to bring up such a sensitive subject.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Gaara, on the frequent nights he spent wandering the halls of Hogwarts rather than sleeping, and excepting the one night a month when he did something else, he would explore some of the unused rooms the castle had in spades. Most of them were dusty and abandoned classrooms, a couple were simply storage for half-rotted furniture.

He had found two treasures so far, an armoury in the deepest reaches of the dungeon, though most of the magically enchanted weaponry and armour had already begun to rust; and he had found a second, much smaller, library. Most of the books were written in Middle-English or Latin, and a handful were written in much older or more obscure languages.

With things likes this open to the tenacious, exploring student, Gaara had become interested in what laid behind the locked doors. Well… the well-locked doors. The armoury, the library, and about half of the unused or abandoned rooms had all been locked, with their heavy iron bonds long since rusting or losing their counterpart keys. Gaara had made his way into each of these rooms as easily as he had the ones with no fastenings or even those missing their doors.

The 'well-locked doors' had been warded against lock picking or brute force, to a degree. Gaara had little doubt he could burst through the simple barriers they had enacted to keep curious children out, but he didn't want to cause any (further) undue alarm, or make them double the security.

Most of these warded doors led to uninteresting places like professors' quarters or offices, which Gaara knew already. So when he found an unfamiliar door on the third floor that definitely didn't belong to any of the teachers or staff at the school, he wanted to know what was so important it had been blocked off so thoroughly. He even went to the trouble of asking a couple of people about the room, but they all responded that it was probably just an empty room, since they hadn't tried to break in themselves and didn't know about the magic stopping such attempts.

So, without a key he couldn't get in, and that left him with only one option if he wanted to proceed.

Gaara approached Hagrid the next morning.

'I need a key.'

Hagrid spent a moment processing. "A key?"

'You are the Keeper of the Keys.' Gaara was patient when dealing with idiots, having practiced on every trip to Konoha. That village bred them, it seemed. Not that Kankuro was much better.

"Oh, you need a key!" Usually, when communicating with people in his unique way, Gaara allowed for an extra process of translation to occur within his conversation partners, for them to take in what they had read. With Hagrid, it was as if he needed another step or two before he could quite grasp what people had told him.

'Yes.'

"Um, what do you need a key for?"

'To open a door.'

Unfortunately, for different reasons, mind you, Gaara also took a little time to quite understand other people, especially those not on the same intellectual level as himself.

So the conversation continued in this disjointed way with neither of them quite sure what was going on or why it was taking so long to say it, but eventually Gaara was entrusted with a large cumbersome brass key that should, if Hagrid knew the school as well as he said he did, open Gaara's problem door.

It hadn't really occurred to Hagrid that the sensible third-year was asking for a key to locked door, and that perhaps he should have asked Dumbledore or one of the other senior staff members why the door was locked. Concurrently, it didn't occur to Hagrid that the door, situated in a school, was locked precisely to keep out students, students like Gaara who'd he'd just handed the key to.

Being who he was, he wasn't troubled by his slip up until Dumbledore reprimanded him a week later.

Gaara was happy that he had tried the upfront approach first, before resorting to the convoluted plan already formulating in his head to rob Hagrid of his keys when he was asleep. Instead, that night he returned to the mystery door and slid the key into the decayed lock.

It took a bit of force to push the hulking door out of the way, it clearly had not been opened in a few years. Instead of the school treasury that he had been secretly hoping for (more for the validation of his efforts than for any personal greed or gain. If he wanted money, he could just rob Draco for less effort…) he was underwhelmed by what he saw.

A mirror.

Granted, it was probably one of the most impressive and ornate mirrors he had seen in his life, if a tad dusty, but it was no more than that. The frame was golden, but wooden, and there were no treasures, weapons or books around or behind the thing. This led to one conclusion, that the mirror itself was somehow special. Most probably enchanted in some unforeseeable way.

He debated whether to risk looking into the reflection, lest he fall afoul of some curse or other. He had enough torments in his life already.

Gaara told himself that no matter the three-headed hellhounds in the grounds or soul sucking monster patrolling the perimeter, there was no way the eccentric headmaster would allow anything so overtly dangerous as a cursed mirror into his school without some sturdier protections in place that the watchful eye of Hagrid. Walking back in front of the enormous piece, he first read the inscription but couldn't make heads or tails of it.

His Latin was passable by now, but he was not experienced in the languages of this world.

Standing before it, shoulders squared, he let his gaze drift downwards to see his own reflection. And he saw himself standing there, and…

And he gasped.

He stared at the image on the mirror for more hours than he knew, and when the sun started to peak in through the window, he finally roused himself enough to leave. He left with a promise to return very soon and see the wondrous image again.

In the evening, he dragged Draco up to the third floor after dinner without proffering any explanation and into the sealed room. The blond hadn't been worried beyond missing the end of dinner until they reached the deserted third floor corridor. Ever since his first year, no one willing went to this area of the school.

The rules no longer prohibited students going to the third floor corridor, but since the rumours of what had been kept on that floor persisted, none of the teenagers had been willing to risk it. Draco had heard a rather unsettling rumour that there had been an enormous Cerberus in one of the rooms, and it had come from a begrudgingly reliable source.

He kept this to himself since he didn't want to appear as more of a coward to Gaara than he already was.

Draco's eyes darted to the back of Gaara's head to look for a sign that he had heard Draco let out a loud sigh of relief when he saw not a demonic dog or any of the hundred other things suspected of being here. Instead there stood a single ornate mirror that Gaara clearly wanted Draco to see.

It was hard to see Gaara's sand writing in the unlit room, but he just about made out 'Look at your reflection in this mirror. It shows you nice things.' Had Gaara been any of his other friends, Draco would have been instantly suspicious at such a claim, but he figured he was relatively safe with present company.

He looked into the mirror, and when the magic took effect he was presented with an image he couldn't describe as anything but wondrous, too.

He had no idea what the exact nature of the mirror's spell was, and looking at what he hoped would be his future, he could only pray that it was somehow related to Divination. Before him stood… him, only he was taller and more regal. He was dressed in robes even his father would have envied. Speaking of his dad, both of his parents were stood behind him, smiling in an uncharacteristically open fashion.

They were all stood in the atrium of the Ministry and Draco was the newly appointed Minister for Magic, his parents supporting behind him and the flashes of cameras announcing the press conference in progress. Not only that, next to him stood Gaara who also looked older, dressed as… Well, he was wearing smart robes. Draco couldn't imagine what Gaara would be when he grew up, except intimidating.

There Draco was, as he stared at his reflection, surrounded by his friends and family, having achieved the most important position in British Wizarding politics. It was lovely. But seeing the look on Gaara's face, he somehow doubted his friend was looking upon the same scene.

"Gaara, what is this mirror? Is it a window to the future?" He could hardly tear his eyes away long enough to direct his question to the red-head.

'No. I believe it simply shows happy fantasies.'

"How can you tell?"

'Because it shows things that can never be. Not any more.'

"Oh… If you're sure. It's just, I can see myself there, but I'm older, and I'm Minister for Magic, and you're there!" Draco went off into a spirited explanation of what the mirror was showing him, including all sorts of details he picked out in his desperate fantasising. "What can you see?"

Gaara had continued to stare at the mirror all through Draco's speech and didn't turn to address Draco even when his sand floated into the letters 'Just a pleasant, impossible dream. Nothing more.' He had the smallest smile on his lips that Draco might have missed were it not for the almost full moon.

He wanted to press for an answer, for the millionth time, but this didn't seem like a good time. It never seemed like a good time to pry into Gaara's personal life and past, but seeing that smile he just couldn't.

They both spent a long while looking into the mirror that evening before Draco was ready to leave for the night.

"Gaara, are you coming?"

Gaara turned to him finally and shook his head slowly.

Draco went to sleep that night, his mind going straight back to the sweet dream he had been able to see and experience consciously.

Gaara had never really had sweet dreams before. His sleep, long time coming that it was, usually resulted in either confronting Shukaku, reliving memories of past atrocities, or experiencing black emptiness until he awoke. The latter was most common, but none of the options approached happy dreams.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

The moon was speeding up its orbit, Gaara thought. He believed this so strongly he had suggested it to the Astronomy professor, this hypothesis, but she had laughed at him. Gaara would have suspected some sort of conspiracy were it not for the corroborating calendar that also insisted a full month had passed since his last transformation.

Sure, it felt like he had been cursed with this confounded bow around his neck for at least a year already, but otherwise it seemed like only a week had passed since he had last suffered his monthly humiliation.

In January he had been kidnapped by Luna and beribboned, in February he had almost been eaten by a giant spider and 'forced' to play with a great big werewolf. He weighed up his options all of the day before, but eventually reason won over pride and he was forced to admit he probably shouldn't rush back into the forest.

To be safe, he transformed as far away from the Ravenclaw dormitories as he could just to be on the safe side, which just so happened to be in the Dungeons. An unexpected issue that this placement caused was the proximity to Slytherin and the corresponding patrol route that Snape followed.

He was assigned to guard/watch the Dungeons and lower castle most evenings, except those nights when the other lazier professors had the night off. Snape could only dream of such luxury.

This night, he was in his monthly foul mood after having been forced to give away one of his most profitable potions to one of the people he hated most in the world. He couldn't wait until Lupin got himself fired and would have to go back to struggling to pay for the Wolfsbane Potion.

Recently, irony of ironies, the looming threat of Sirius Black had kept most of his students in check since they didn't want to risk sneaking about the halls when a murderer might try to break in. As such, when he saw a small movement in the dark, he moved swiftly after it. Mrs Norris never strayed into the Dungeons when Snape was patrolling them, mostly since she was never apart from Filch for long and they tended to leave Snape on his own, but he also believed Mrs Norris didn't like him.

None of his Slytherins owned a cat currently, being an exceptionally rare pet among the snakes, so he knew whatever he was chasing shouldn't be down here.

Gaara had rounded a corner only to spot his hated Head of House standing there, presumably on the lookout for intruders, curfew breakers, and other oddities. Since Gaara was two of three, and because of their hate-hate relationship, he had automatically turned tail and darted back behind cover. He hid with his back to the wall, carefully poking his snout back out to check if Snape had spotted him.

The incoming black smudge in the gloomy hall was indicative enough, so Gaara took off full pelt down the corridor. Unfortunately, rushing into a sprint led to his soft pads and claws just slipping on the polished stone underfoot. He managed to get going like a shot before Snape could reach him, but it meant that Snape once again saw his humongous tail turning the next corner.

Thus began the chase between Snape and his most hated student in a compromising state. If only he knew…

It took five adrenaline-fuelled minutes before Gaara was able to get enough of a lead to dart into an unlocked classroom. The funny thing was that before he had transformed, he had told himself that he would stay in the empty room and not go running through the castle again. That decision had lasted all of five minutes after his brain had turned into an animal's.

That chase was not the only one that Gaara had to endure that night. For some reason, Harry had taken it upon himself to see what the mysterious, trouble-making transfer student had been up to on the full moon, evading Professor Snape like he had been.

Harry often watched the school through his map, and had seen Gaara out past curfew more often than he had seen him actually in his dorm room at night. He had always ignored this because he didn't appear to be doing much of anything, either staying in one abandoned room alone all night, or walking around the castle aimlessly.

It was so boring he could never watch it for long without falling asleep or looking somewhere else.

But watching Gaara running away from Snape and hiding just seemed too suspicious. Maybe he was finally making his move, whatever that might entail. So Harry had taken his cloak and his map and descended into the Dungeons.

So it would seem his misfortunes came by twos on these nights. If it wasn't an acromantula and werewolf, it was Snape and then Potter. Except, Gaara wouldn't count on Potter saving him from the Potions Master, hero complex aside.

Gaara had been waiting in the empty room, planning his next move when the door had swung open and he heard/smelt someone enter the room. His improved senses could tell an invisible teenager had entered the room, but they had no sensory memory to reference back to, so he had no idea who it was. However, seeing as it was a teenager it was the middle of the night, and it was already causing him trouble, he correctly guessed it was either Potter or one of his stooge friends.

Harry was in the classroom, under his cloak, but he couldn't see where Gaara was. He had hoped to do this observation stealthily, though he didn't think about the door that would have appeared to have magically opened by itself, however, he was staring into the darkened room and he couldn't see Gaara hiding in the back amongst the piles of chairs.

Harry put away his map and walked further into the room, trying to peer under the furniture to see where Gaara was hiding. Being about as far from a ninja as it was possible to be (a damning description considering the wide… variety counted amongst the shinobi ranks in Gaara's world), after Harry had opened a door while invisible, he failed to take note that his invisible feet were not only making noise but also marking the dust along the floor.

With these factors, Gaara accurately located the invisible threat. He slowly circled around, using his small size to his advantage and moving through the smallest gaps in the direction of the door. Luckily, whatever means Potter had used to locate him had only taken him to the general area Gaara was hiding in. He managed to circle around the unwitting boy and run out the door before Harry had even though to check his map to pinpoint his target's location.

When he did, he understood that Gaara had somehow hidden from sight too and had snuck past his and out the door. Seeing the direction Gaara was headed, he tucked his cloak into his trousers and took off running, needing all of the speed he could muster. He had seen Gaara running on the map before and it seemed like he was moving even faster than usual.

He was on to something!

Gaara was on all fours, sprinting down the hall, running towards the stairs. He had wanted to stay away from the upper floors and Luna at all costs, but running the risk of encountering her was better than risk being caught by Harry. His other other blond friend might have been deranged, but that was better than being captured by an enemy. Well, he wasn't sure if he wanted to credit Potter with such a title, but he certainly wasn't a friend.

Potter was an unfriendly acquaintance.

Granted, he didn't seem like the type to hurt an unfamiliar and innocent (ha!) animal, but the greater danger was his transformation. He couldn't let someone he was on poor terms with discover his secret.

What Gaara didn't know was that Harry wasn't following a strange animal around, that he had somehow tracked; instead, he was following Gaara but he had yet to catch a glimpse of the boy.

The high speed chase around the castle continued for an hour. No matter how fast or evasive Gaara was, he was always found by Harry, who was entirely lacking in stamina to keep up with the trained shinobi/animal. More often than not, the chase turned into a protracted game of hide & seek, which Gaara didn't think was fair considering Harry clearly had some sort of magical parchment to track him and was in his own body. There was no way a civilian child could have come close to catching Gaara if he was in his own body.

The fuzzy little psychopath nearly had a heart attack when he skidded around a corner and saw Luna standing there, facing the other direction. First Snape, then Potter, now Luna. All he needed now was Draco, Sirius and Orochimaru to join the chase and his night would be complete.

His luck won out for a change as he was able to slink back the way he had come before she noticed him.

As he continued his cat and mouse act with Potter, Gaara knew that these transformations were getting to be too much of a liability.

Sometime around two in the morning, the unexpectedly tenacious Gryffindor had given up his chase as he became convinced that Gaara was messing with him. Whatever the slimy Slytherin had been trying to hide he could have easily hidden and then confronted Harry with impunity. Clearly Gaara had been running all around the castle to keep Harry awake.

The next morning, Harry was beyond tired, being repeatedly reawakened by Hermione and Ron. It was that morning that the trio realised why Gaara had those bags around his eyes, seeing some lesser versions around Harry's after one night of trying to keep up with him. Hermione used the word 'insomniac' which Ron liked, mostly because it made the Slytherin sound crazy.

It took Gaara a further half hour before he had realised Harry wasn't following him anymore and he could finally make his way back to the Dungeons. The running hadn't been all too bad for his overflowing energy, but the stress was driving him into the ground. He hadn't rushed on his way back down the school, considering all the while when it would become an appropriate action to go on a good ol' killing spree.

He went back to his changing place and prepared for the shift. He still had hours before it would happen, so he tried something he hadn't before: sleeping in animal form. Granted, he spent the better part of an hour setting traps around the room to stop anyone sneaking up on him while he was out.

It was more of a nap, lasting only two hours, but it was among the most peaceful night's sleep he had ever gotten. It was what Gaara imagined sleep was like for normal people, none of the screaming, demons or mental battles to retain his sanity. When he woke up again, he check and found none of the traps had been disturbed and he had less than an hour until he changed again.

When he did change back into his small human body, he once more questioned his sanity in that form. After a night where he had done little else but flee from multiple pursuers, he had napped in the Dungeons.

Maybe he should just taken heed of that instinct that had told him to take a potion and hide in his trunk all night. Something to calm him, maybe sedate his 'wild side' a little while he was curled up tight in his trunk in his room. He could even knock Draco out and just stay in the room, but that ran the risk of one of Draco's braver friends knocking on the door. If Draco didn't answer they might get a Prefect to check on them.

Luna had not given up her search. She never would, she told herself.

She had looked all night, avoiding the patrolling teachers and ghosts with the ease that came with practicing. She had found faint signs all over the castle, stray tufts of fur, scratch marks on the stone, all since the last cleaning a few days before.

Her housemates had told her she was entering into a new form of weird; her father had applauded her training. If she wanted to grow up to track rare and exotic creatures, there would be no better practice. And he was selfishly rather eager to meet/examine this animal after his precious daughter had begun to obsess over it.

He remembered the first creature he had obsessed over. Over the course of three years, two broken broomsticks, a search by Aurors and sixteen angry Centaurs, he had found the beast and met his darling wife. And the less said about the two Centaurs who weren't angry, the better.

Luna had followed the signs of her dear, lost, fluffy pet down into the bowels of the school, and there she found a room she thought it must be hiding in.

"Animum Revelo." Luna whispered, pointing her wand directly at the door. As she had practiced at Hagrid's hut, the door started to glow a little before fading a little, assuring her that an animal was most definitely in there.

Luna, crazy though some might describe her, wasn't so out of her mind that she wanted to heedlessly pursue her lost pet and risk scaring it even further. The thing was clearly skittish, solitary, and didn't like being trapped, so she couldn't run into the room flinging spells. She wasn't a Gryffindor after all.

With that in mind, she sat down in front of the door and hoped none of the teachers had recognised her pattern and decided check if she had stayed in bed after midnight on this particular night. She would wait until the morning if she had to, she had even been napping during the afternoons in the past couple of days to ensure she wouldn't fall asleep.

In the room, Gaara was crawling in his skin, his animal mind fully used being allowed to run around freely by now. If he did want to lock himself up for these things, he would most definitely need tranquilising. When the sun rose, Gaara decided to devote some of his research time to try and resolve this worsening issue of the full moon nights. He had a month until his next one, however long that would actually be, so he figured that would ample opportunity to fix the issue.

It was after Gaara had put on his trousers and was pulling on his shirt that Luna crept conspicuously into the room. Both he and her froze staring at each other, her from behind the door and he with his fingers resting on a button he had been in the middle of threading.

"Oh." Luna said, her mind whirring back to life after the short crash.

Gaara lips mimed the same but he just ended up doubling over and coughed half a lung up. This broke both of them out of their reverie and she fully entered the room, less bothered about Gaara's state of partial dress and instead focussing on the bow clearly tied around his neck and the implications of it.

"You're a were-…tanuki?"

Gaara had stopped coughed, and instead had stood back up straight and resumed buttoning his shirt. He was hoping the repetitive activity would stop a blush from forming. It was because he had walked-in on when he was half-naked, but entirely because one of the people he was most afraid of finding out this secret had just done so in spectacular fashion.

He didn't address the question as he continued to work at his shirt, waiting until it was fully buttoned and he then located and called upon his sand to write out his responses in the early morning light.

'Yes.'

"Oh." Luna repeated. "Sorry for chasing you." That was the best she could come up with.

Gaara ignored the last comment and instead pulled on his shoes, longing for the comfort and flexibility that he had enjoyed with his shinobi sandals. When they were on and his cloak had been donned, he stood and approached Luna, the frustratingly blank expression still firmly (and resolutely) in place.

Luna watched him approach, feeling herself succumb to the widespread fear of him for just a second, until he stood before her and pulled his shirt collar down a inch, emphasising the blow material spelled on his neck.

"Oh!" She said for the third time. "Yes. Sorry. For that." She stuttered out, pulled out her wand again and pointing it at his throat. A muttered spell that he didn't care to concentrate on later and she was untying it. As she did, she stared at the fading scar on his neck for longer than he thought appropriate, so he dispelled her focus with a well placed hand rubbing the phantom sensation from his now bare neck.

She tucked the material in her pocket absently and then fell back against the door, still shocked and saddened by the revelation.

'Since I arrived here, the full moons have had a strange effect on me. My body changes but my mind doesn't.' He didn't mention the instincts for important reasons…

"So…" Luna's inner Ravenclaw was booting back up, finally, "Does the transformation hurt?"

'No. It did the first time but now it is quicker and easier.'

"Have there been any other changes?"

'No. Except my throat hurts in the mornings, lately.'

"Your throat? Where you have the scar?"

Gaara nodded.

"Interesting. Has the length of time you are changed gotten longer?"

'No. I turn into that form when the moon rises and back again when the sun rises.'

"So there's very little chance that it will become permanent." Luna sounded disappointed. "If it did become permanent, you would still be welcome at my home. My father already said yes if you were already domesticated."

'No thank you.'

Luna looked disappointed by that response, but eventually her scientist mind flared back up. "I've never heard of a were- anything other than a wolf before. Perhaps it is a strain of the curse native to your country."

'No, I have never encountered or heard of this before.'

"Then, would you like me to help you research the condition. If there is anything in the school library, I'm sure we could find it. Or would you rather wait and see if it goes away when you go back to your own world?"

Gaara looked into her eyes, quirking an eyebrow in question.

"I've seen your research. You were either from another world or running to one."

'I will read about this on my own. Thank you.' Anything to end the discussion of his disability.

"Then, I could help you hide your transformations. You weren't too hard to track down and you can't use your sand, can you?"

Gaara shook his head.

"Then I could help keep you-" She refrained from saying 'keep you safe' since that would only inflame Gaara's already bruised ego, "away from any dangerous people."

'Thank you. I will consider that.' Which meant he would tell her to stay away from him during those nights, under the guise of diverting attention. With any luck, this morning would be the last mention between them of this supremely disturbing subject.

"So, how long is your tail exactly? I never got to measure it."

Or not.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Harry had watched Gaara the next night but it happened to be one of the rare occasions that the insomniac weirdo spent the night in his own room, slumbering next to Malfoy. It was an unsettling thought that two-dimensional antagonist characters like Malfoy and Gaara actually had a bedroom and beds and they slept and read books.

He shook his head lest he start considering his enemies as people.

The night after that, Gaara had snuck out again, and he was staying in one place consistently this time, on the third floor. He tried to wake Ron up to help chase down his target, but the ginger said things Mrs Weasley would be better off never hearing about, and Harry had to go out alone.

Even if he could have gotten past the stairs that blocked boys entering the girl's dorms, he didn't hold out much hope that Hermione would be any more interested in Gaara's late night comings and goings than Ron. She wouldn't swear as much, but she might hex him.

He was on his way, periodically checking the map to make sure Gaara hadn't somehow caught wind of him coming from afar, when he saw a name he had only heard of. He wondered if the Marauders were really all they were cracked up to be since he knew for a fact that Peter Pettigrew was dead.

When he saw the dead name moving about, he then wondered if perhaps the man's ghost had somehow ended up in Hogwarts. Did ghosts show up on the map?

When he got to the general area of the name, he found no ghosts and no long dead family friends, instead he was found himself by Professor Snape, who confiscated his map and got insulted by it. Lupin showed up and covered for him, but then lectured him about keep the map with Sirius Black running around.

Harry hadn't really considered the danger the map presented, it had just been a godsend for snooping and avoiding curfew.

After Harry had been dropped off at the Gryffindor entrance, Lupin quickly opened his old map and looked all over for the rat's name. He looked all over but he didn't see Pettigrew anywhere. He knew Harry wouldn't lie about something like this, so the rat had obviously seen Harry with the map earlier and run away to one of the blind spots or out into the grounds.

Still, if he resurfaced, the map would make catching him much easier. He considered giving it to Gaara since the boy hardly slept, was a fast runner, and commanded that useful sand. Then again, Gaara was scary enough. At a certain point his power should be limited.

That sounded like a responsible teacher's reasoning, right?

Meanwhile, Gaara was admiring his reflection in a particularly narcissistic fashion. He had asked if Draco wanted to come and see it again, but the boy had said he would see it another time, he was tired. Weakling.

"I thought Mr Potter would be the last student I had to warn about this mirror. I fear perhaps I will have to make good on my longstanding plans to move it out of the castle."

Of all the people Gaara would have guessed would enter the room in the middle of the night, the Headmaster was low on the list.

"I understand you've come here few times since Hagrid unknowingly gave you the key. This mirror isn't dangerous, I assure you, but it can lead people to their deaths. As I have told numerous people, this mirror has caused men to waste away in front of it, fruitlessly hoping for the dreams it shows to come true."

'Fools.' Gaara didn't bother spelling out any other words. He did, however, turn to face the powerful wizard.

"I suppose. But you must admit, it is enticing. I know I still struggle with the Mirror of Erised, years after coming into possession of it. A more responsible man might have had it shattered but I never could bring myself to do it."

Dumbledore conjured a chair out of thin air and sat down next to Gaara, looking at his reflection.

"It is a beautiful and fascinating object. And not only is there the image in front of you, but the questions of what others might be seeing. When I first found this mirror, a long time ago, a friend and I tried to guess what the other saw. I guessed his but he never could see what I saw." The old man was a little wistful, obviously enjoying the opportunity to be nostalgic.

"Why, might I ask, did you say that those who had become enchanted by what was shown in the mirror were fools, Gaara?"

'This mirror only shows a person what they want, not how they were, are or could ever be. It is just a pretty picture.'

Albus seemed to understand, "Ah, then it seems you see something similar to my own vision. I am sorry to say I do not know you well enough to offer a guess as to what you might see when you look at your reflection in the mirror. You are a mystery to me, I have to admit."

Gaara look back at him after his eyes had drifted towards the mirror.

"I have had more people question me over your admittance than almost any choice I have made in this school in twenty years, except perhaps my handling of last year's difficulties with the Chamber of Secrets. And possibly the year before in the aftermath of the attempted theft of the Philosophers Stone." The weary man sighed long and deep. "It has been a difficult few years.

"It will come as no shock to you, Gaara, I'm sure, that you are an outsider in this school. A stranger to this country as well. But I did not accept you to this school just to keep an eye on you. I invited you to attend this school because you were a child alone in a strange country with nowhere to go."

'I'm not a child.' Gaara told himself his voice wouldn't have sounded petulant if he had said it aloud.

"I suppose not. Not in many of the ways we characterise childhood, but no matter what you have done, or how much of it shows in your face, I still see a child. I am just a naïve old man."

Gaara didn't speak to that.

"I will be having the mirror moved tomorrow morning. I liked to come down here and look at it every now and then, but I know there is no place in this castle you couldn't follow it to if you wanted, even if you understand the folly of the things you see. And it is about time I stopped looking at it myself."

Gaara turned back to the scene in front of him, savouring the sight for the remaining hours until it was taken away.

"Thank you for listening, Gaara. If there is ever anything you want to talk about, please don't hesitate to come to me."

'Thank you.'

Gaara hadn't turned to address Albus, nor did he acknowledge his leaving, just continuing to rapturously stare at the Mirror of Erised.

The next day it was indeed gone, hidden in one of the school's many Gringotts vaults, never to be seen again.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Omake:

It had been a few days since his secret had been revealed to Luna so he was still avoiding being anywhere near her without a buffer close by, and he was trying not to get too close to the Headmaster since their uncomfortably open conversation two days before. As such, he entered the Great Hall with reluctance only after Draco promised he would clear a space for them to eat without any crowding.

Upon entering, he could see Draco had made good on threatening the surrounding Slytherins to move, or simply telling them who was coming. That observation didn't last long as his attention was quickly diverted to the pair of orange-haired twins fast approaching.

The Weasley twins, older brother of Potter's lackey, he understood, were dressed in waiter's uniforms and were wearing thin pointed moustaches.

"Good morning, mousier Gaara." One said with a heavy and arguably racist fake accent.

"We 'ave your table right over here." The other continued the obnoxious play.

Knowing that these two feared him as much as anyone, he didn't fight being led to a single place set on a small table off to the side of the other tables, with a white table cloth, candles and silverware. He sat down and one of them flicked the serviette over his lap and started to pour the water as if it was wine, even asking him to taste it before pouring a full glass.

Of course, this stunt had drawn the attention of just about every student and staff member in the hall, and the majority thought the twins were signing their own death warrants by pulling a prank on Gaara.

What they didn't know was that Gaara was being singled out as the only person not being pranked.

Gaara, while confident he was in no danger, was bewildered by the act as the twins continued in serving him his breakfast, commenting all the while in the accent that indicated neither had ever been to France. Before anyone could think to ask what they were doing or look for the punch line, they heard it.

It started with the Slytherins whispering to each other turning into literal hisses. It was just a few at first, trying to say something only to turn and check if anyone else was experiencing the same baffling symptom. In minutes, every Slytherin was loudly hissing incoherently (according to Harry Potter, who said he couldn't understand a Parsle-word they were saying.)

The Gryffindors' laughter and mocking turned into growls and roars as if they were lions soon enough, signally a terrible cacophony to start. The Slytherin continued their hisses, mostly at the staff table and at the obvious culprits still serving Gaara. The Gryffindors were split between obvious gaiety and anger at their mischievous Weasleys.

Then the Ravenclaws started cawing and the Hufflepuffs started making whiney growling noises like badgers. The Hufflepuffs were understandably the most upset by this prank, their House animal not being the most majestic creature.

Gaara wondered why he had been spared, or if he had been. It wouldn't be clear since a mute snake would sound about the same as a mute human.

"The Wealseys did not want to risk your wrath, mousier Gaara." One of the French accent chimed in.

They had snuck into the kitchens that very morning and managed to spike the pumpkin juice with a potion they had spent months reading up on, brewing and testing.

Gaara was wondering why they had bothered sparing him at all now, since it made no difference.

Until he saw the Slytherin start to panic all the more, their hisses rising in tempo. He saw the closest one to them showing their closest neighbour their newly forked tongue. Each of the Slytherins were now sporting thing, snake tongues, still hissing incomprehensively.

The Gryffindors didn't laugh or cheer (with their roars) this time, anticipating their own humiliation soon to come. They were right to hold off their celebration since the first red mane grew shortly thereafter, followed by everyone else at the table. They roared even louder, especially the girls who did not appreciate the extra body hair.

One seventh year tried to spell the fur off of them, but as soon as it was cut off, it grew back around his neck and then on his head as well, warning everyone else from trying the same.

Then came the Ravenclaws, who grew black feathers all over their arms. Some were glad they had not been given beaks instead, but the rest were just as indignant as the other Houses. Curiously, one second year blond girl was flapping her arms in an apparent effort to fly. Unsuccessfully.

The Hufflepuffs got off rather lightly in appearance, merely gaining a pair of white strips in their hair, or black ones for the blonds. That did not register in their continued and loud complaints to the teachers to reverse this and punish the twins.

At the staff table, the teachers were mostly glaring at the ones responsible or trying to rein in the student body who sounded like an irate zoo. Dumbledore and Lupin were the only ones openly smiling. In fact, Lupin looked to be laughing a little, but would periodically stop himself.

When a semblance of order was restored, it was revealed by the entirely unapologetic twins that the effects would last until tomorrow morning. They were assigned detentions spanning into next year and would receive particularly harrowing Howlers the next morning from their mother.

It was a hilarious day for Gaara, now not the only mute person in his classes who were forbidden from making 'animal noises' in classes. He thought the punishment would have been worse but the prank had done wonders for reducing the amount of classroom chatter.

The widespread belief that Gaara had been at least complicit if not an accomplice in the prank had further eased his stigma, as had the rumour that was spreading that he had been responsible for the smoke bomb and broken heating system in Slytherin earlier in the year.

Snape had been all for assigning some punishment to Gaara, but Dumbledore had just told him any detention assigned would be served with Snape so he had dropped the matter. And there hadn't been any proof.

Despite the anger of every student, the Howlers from their parents, the detentions too numerous to count, and the House points lost, Fred and George counted that prank as being one of their best birthdays ever. Though they still contested that they shouldn't have been punished at all.

They had shouted 'April Fools' after all!

The next day, as two people were getting Howlers and everyone else was enjoying their newly regained ability to speak to each other, the first thing Draco said to his best friend was "Gaara, stop whittling your wand already!"

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A/N: Thanks for reading etc.

I got a very flattering guest review shortly after the last chapter was published and I thought it was worth discussing here. It started out by denouncing a plot point (the tanuki Gaara thing specifically) as an immature idea, which as you can imagine I was a little wounded by in the immediate aftermath. It was described as a 'fantastical [thing to] happen to the extra-dimensional character. It's too much oddity.'

And then I read the follow up, that they were wrong in that I had taken the 'immature and have portrayed it maturely.' I was so flattered because this is exactly what I had been aiming for.

I planned out a large part of this fic years ago, when my writing and my knowledge of finer fanfic points was immature. I realised this in the meantime, and short of quitting/discontinuing this series (which I have always said I wouldn't do) or rewriting it from the start (which I SO can't be bothered with doing), I was left with the option of trying to improve my writing around these silly points as I go.

I think this connects with my Mary-Sue point I made a chapter or two ago, in that I did write in some dubious character traits/circumstances. In all, I guess my point here is that I'm glad someone noticed the lazy improvement.

Don't forget to look in on my other series if you haven't already. It's just starting out but it will develop into some action later and won't have the annoying fragmented narrative after the first chapter. Oh, and it will not be a harem series since I have read precious few good harem stories and will struggle enough with romance, much less such a convoluted romantic concept as the polygamous relationship.

Long story short, give it a look, tell me what you think, should I bother continuing?

But before then, review this story. I'd love for it to hit a thousand reviews before it finishes. Admittedly that's a little unrealistic since it's only just reached 425 and there aren't that many more chapters to go, but I'm hoping for an exponential growth sort of thing.