"*Wheeze* I live!"

Kankuro stares at me blankly. "Well hallelujah, etcetera etcetera. How was life?"

"How much sugar did I eat that you're gaining self-awareness before your segment? I must thank Motherofthehorde for those cookies."

"Look, I don't know how your existence works; I have enough nightmares contemplating the futility of my own existence."

"I've been designing and making a symbiote bio-prothesis and I had a cultural-contrast art project that needed to be at least halfway done before January 10th. And also my part-time retail job."

"Well, only you would call maintaining several paracosms a relaxing hobby."

Credit goes to twixxy-dee for a comment about Temari.

Unfortunately my muse finally has a definitive plotline for Dem Bones, so she's fixated on that now.

Lady Temari of Sunagakure no Sato was bowl of love, stirred firmly with ice shards and a teaspoon of compassion with a slice of cruelty for flavour, Angelique Zabini decided. Truly, a woman after her own heart.

As the main course arrived and was invaded upon, the smattering of tentative niceties and casual redirections turned to the universal topic of family.

"Oh," Temari rolled her eyes, "bloodstained, sordid and crammed full of skeletons but surprisingly short by most standards. Nobody even knows my grandfather's real name, which in itself is ridiculous."

"So Mitsuyo wasn't his name?" Shikamaru started.

"Oh please. 'Third Generation'? That was just what Sunagakure called him in lieu of knowing his real one. It doesn't even fit with the traditional naming scheme."

"My cousin will insist on naming his children after plants, it's ridiculous," Angelique chimed in. "Honestly, that part of the family is notorious for killing anything green. And the Black Family are all named after stars and constellations; pretentious if you ask any normal, sane, person."

"I think I am literally the only normal person at this table," Amelia Bones stared morosely into her gravy as she stabbed half-heartedly at her roast pork.

"Eat your food, Ami, don't perforate it," Angelique chided softly as she topped up the Director's wineglass.

"Sorry, I'm still coming to terms with the fact that I'm not going to die any time soon, I'm emotionally drained right now."

Temari looked askance. "You mean everyone really thought they were going to die messily? No-one could tell that that was just good old-fashioned posturing and a bit of political teasing?"

Angelique had to bite back a smirk even as Amelia half-moaned. "Merlin, Morgana and Maeve, what kind of people are you?"

"The way we live and fight means we're a good bit tougher than most when it comes to physical things," Shikamaru shrugged. "And I suppose our sense of humour and outlook on life are a little more callous and intrusive than you would know. Mind you, my Village is very different to Temari's; it's practically another planet."

"Will of Sand, forest-boy, Will of Sand," Temari said coyly, tongue between her teeth in a teasing manner. "'A single grain of sand is nothing, but a thousand together can crush a mountain.' In Suna, the community is everything, hence why Gaara took it hard when he was younger."

A slip; Angelique perked up. "Why would an Heir be isolated in his youth, especially if it goes against the core value of your society?"

Temari paced her next words carefully. "It is common for children to be born with...gifts. But some...gifts...can be bestowed. Suffice to say, my baby brother's was of the malevolent variety, and everyone knew it. How did you think he earned his Nom de Guerre?"

"Mad Child of the Devouring Sand," Amelia whispered in horror. "Oh sarding hell."

"Don't worry, he's a lot better now," Shikamaru said nonchalantly. "He's actually one of the most level-headed and qietly charismatic shinobi I've ever met. Of course, he wasn't always like that. I had nightmares about the Exams for a month after."

"Preaching to the choir here. Kankuro got one close up and personal look and couldn't bring himself to eat for a whole week. Mind you, despite his problem, one could never ever accuse him of being stupid or unthinking. Hell, he could even border on kind, in his own way; if you squinted and looked at the situation from a predatory angle."

"I'll take your word for it," Shikamaru mumbled into his mouthful of potato. "Though, could we maybe start on discussing these Dementors? They sound incredibly fascinating; in a morbid sort of way. I mean, do they digest the souls somehow? Is the soul merely extracted or is it a permanent obliteration? How far does the Negative Aura reach; is it a circular range or a manipulable one? How do they communicate? Is there evidence of a social hierarchy? Do they have any maturation/age differences in strength, power or physical attributes? Is there any proven weakness to certain attacks?...'"

"This one is a bit old-fashioned, but it's easy to move in and I do rather like it," Temari mused as she examined herself in the mirror the next morning, wearing an elegant, if slightly faded with age, kosode the colour of raw umber. "What do you think?"

"I've always thought you suit the older fashions very well. Very regal," Shikamaru said, coming up behind her and resting his chin on her shoulder. "It's not like they'll know it's a hand-me-down after all; they'll be too distracted by you being gorgeously vintage."

"Hmm," she smirked. "I suppose they wouldn't know how outdated it is, considering that they don't know our fashions. I guess it's decided then."

"Well, technically there's no such thing as out of date, as long as it remains useful," Shikamaru shrugged. "You change your clothing as your circumstances and skills change, really. Didn't Gaara wear just cargo pants and a T-shirt to the Chunin Exams then switch to longcoats soon after?" He unlocked the door after removing the traps around it.

"He stopped being quite so reliant on his sand to armour him after he got his head in order, but he missed the weight I think," she explained. "And I found that I preferred long skirts to short ones."

"That was a sad day," Shikamaru sighed exaggeratedly even as he dodged a good-humoured slap.

"Oh, shush you. Try and act professional, remember that we've still got to make an impression on the school. I cannot believe that nobody saw through us last night; even Angelique barely saw through our teasing!"

"Oh-ho, is this a new friend I see? At least she's not as bad as the rest of them. I just feel kind of sorry for Amelia Bones; she seems like the only other person with their head screwed on right. She's got a backbone though, since she did comment that she wasn't listening when you started talking about poisons and the best knife for piercing attacks as opposed to severing. The other restaurant patrons looked a little queasy by the end."

"Serves them right, listening in like that. Speaking of which, are you taking that skull of yours?"

"Nah, it gives me a headache if I wear it too long and it's such a drag having everyone paying horrified attention to you."

BANG

"It's fine, keep eating, nothing to see here, hi Harry!"

Were the first words Temari yelled as the doors to the Great Hall slammed open. She promptly made a beeline for him, at least, Harry thought she did. One second she was striding in over the threshold and the next there's a whoosh of air and she's beside him.

The Hufflepuffs sat at their benches, one of them having been about to stonily tell him where he could find Susan Bones to apologise for making her cry for some reason, scrambled away to leave a respectable ring of space around Harry and the new arrival.
Maybe it was the events of last night setting a precedent or the subconscious knowledge that he wouldn't be shrugged off for being too freaky to touch, but Harry found himself wrapping his arms around his sister's waist.

They were here.

They were here, they had come to see him, come all this way and just for him not anybody else and no matter what anybody in the Wizarding World had said or done about it, they had come for him.

"And if anybody asks, we definitely did not set some Dementors on fire," Temari crooned snidely in his ear. "It was completely spontaneous combustion."

Before Harry could retort, Shikamaru stalked through the doors with a thunderous expression on his face, dragging a charred, frayed and tattered lump behind him. "Fire's pretty effective," he growled, dropping it in the middle of the flagstone floor. "I hate these things already." His boot ground down and the Dementor's remains fluttered into dust.

Over at the Ravenclaw tables, several older students were on the verge of hyperventilating at the display. And at the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy paused. "What the hell are they?"

"Not to be trifled with," Blaise commented blithely. "Oh, and the woman? That was one of her brothers you and your father insulted at Gringotts. And her other brother is the Minister-equivalent of a city of Battle Mages. And all three of them have decided to make Harry Potter's safety and well-being their priority."

As Blaise's comment were repeated and passed around the tables, Professor McGonagall, made her way over to the two strangers. "If I might interject for a moment? Mr Potter, I'd like to see you straight after breakfast in my office to discuss your new elective and any catch-up work you might need to do; don't worry, I've excused your lateness from your first class. My Lord and Lady, I'd like to invite you to join us for breakfast at the Staff Table."

"Oh, thank you!" Temari smiled winningly. "Our own breakfast was a bit rushed so we'd be happy to join you." She detached herself from an obviously reluctant Harry. "Go on, you get your own breakfast Harry, we'll catch up with you later."

"Excuse me! Excuse me, m'Lady?" Susan Bones elbowed her way through the barricade of Hufflepuffs, a lightly sparking wand clenched tightly in one fist. Turning, Temari smiled politely.

"Yes?"

Shikamaru hissed an exhaled breath and the shadows under his throat darkened at seeing the wand ready in hand. Susan faltered slightly, but steeled herself.

"My name is Susan Bones, niece of DMLE Director Amelia Bones. Nice to meet you. I want to know what your intentions are towards my Aunt."

She received an amused smirk. "Feisty little wolf-mouse, aren't you? I have no intention of harming your Aunt, if I can help it. Of course, that may change if circumstances become untenable, but I rather hope they don't. Both she and Madam Zabini are quite enjoyable to talk to, after all. Good day."

With that remark, both she and Shikamaru extricated themselves from the crowd with another whoosh-of-air-disappear-and-reappear. Susan finally let her knees stagger in relief, only to be supported by the hands of Harry-Bloody-Potter. And only then did she realised that McGonagall was still standing not five feet away, a rather pinched but proud look on her face.

"20 points to Hufflepuff for bravery in the face of the unknown, and defending your family, Miss Bones. May I suggest you return to your seat now," was the only comment, before the Professor walked off back up to the staff table.

"Oh wow," was all Harry could muster to say. Before Susan had an iron grip on his wrist, "Potter."

"Erm, right. Sorry for upsetting you last night, I know whatever I said was wrong and I apologise because I didn't mean it," he hurriedly babbled out.

"Potter-"

"But that was really brave and kinda stupid I guess? 'Cause Temari's really powerful-"

"Potter!" Her sudden snap made him fall silent. Until she took a deep breath and released his arm.

"Apology accepted. But can't you see that my Aunt is all I have? As Director, she's not usually in the path of danger, but in politics, she is. And I worry. Okay?"

Harry swallowed a sudden weight in his gut. 'I thought Kankuro would have to fight a Tailed Beast. Gaara had a monster stuck in his head and thought I would hate him.' "Yeah, okay. Sorry."

As the Puffs abruptly reconverged upon Susan, Harry sidled away, then suddenly realised he'd missed half of breakfast and sprinted across the Hall back to the Gryffindor table. He hoped that all the fried tomatoes hadn't been eaten yet.

"I can walk."

"..."

"That's your cue to put me down, now."

"No."

"Dammit, Urayama! I outrank you!"

Mokichi polished a bit of grease off his glasses. "Actually, not currently you don't," he interjected. "You're still on Enforced Medical Leave, which means, as your attending medic-nin, I can give any orders within reason to get you healthy. And if you're going to keep complaining about us proceeding carefully with your treatment, I will continue to have you carried everywhere instead of finding you a wheelchair."

Baki slumped back against Urayama's chest. "I've been outranked by a Genin," he muttered somewhat disparagingly. "And have our many years together come to nothing, Urayama? I'm not going to strain myself; I'm not like Kokan-"

"Thank the Kami," Mokichi muttered.

"-why is everyone being so protective of me?"

"..."

Urayama sighed, the sound rumbling deep in his massive chest. "Because we saw your face when you heard Rasa got reanimated."

Silence fell thick and heavy, Mokichi's glasses glinting bright as he looked away.

BAM

The mood was shattered by the door being slammed open.
"I HAVE RETURNED, PEONS!"

The lanky woman ignored Mokichi's perturbed and Urayama's deadpan expressions, and made a bee-line for Baki, plucking him neatly from her husband's arms and zipping around the corner with her stunned cargo held aloft above her head. "I'M NOT GIVING HIM BACK!"

Mokichi gave his glasses a cursory polish and replaced them on his nose. "I see Ikoi's returned from patrol. Make sure I have Baki back by tomorrow morning for some more testing, but in the meantime, I'm going to find some coffee, and relax, and finally finish listening to my radio play."

Urayama sighed again. "Right. And everywhere is out of coffee, until the shipment in two days."

"Dammit. Tea it is then."

A veritable parliament of owls flurried into the Great Hall as Temari and Shikamaru sat down at the two spare chairs at the Staff Table. As letters were opened and the roar of chatter increased, the requisite introductions were made smoothly and affably.

But as food was offered and accepted, the two made curious hand-formations over their plates, before apparently being satisfied and digging in. The action prompted Snape, usually reticently occupied with contemplating a mug of coffee as thick as dragon blood, to ask a question.
"What was that for?"

"To test for poison, of course," Shikamaru said, completely straight-faced even as the other diners gaped in horror. "Naturally, being a guest of yours, it would be incredibly rude to poison me, but I'm far from stupid. That, and once burned, twice as watchful."

"I did warn you that one time," Temari interjected, looking slightly offended.

"Yes, but you didn't bother to clarify that just because everyone else was eating it, doesn't mean it isn't poisoned at all. Although it did solve the mystery on why most Suna-nin seem to be immune to their own poisons."

"We don't poison our own food over here," Snape muttered dryly into his mug. "Unless you count those hooligans the Weasley Twins dosing everyone with prank potions every now and again."

Madam Pomfrey looked like she was about to have a conniption. "Self-poisoning!" She sputtered. "How could you- how could any of your Healers allow this?!"

"Don't worry, I was cross too, at first." Shikamaru soothed. "And by healer, you mean medic-nin, right? Where do you think they get the poison from?"

"Now you've done it," Professor Vector sighed, even as Madam Pomfrey started muttering darkly to herself. "She'll be on a one-woman crusade to overturn your medical system soon enough. Don't be surprised if your medics end up in their own hospitals."

Temari barked out a laugh. "Oh, that would be fun; I'd pay to see that fight! But not right now, because we've still got wounded left over from the war, and we've had Mirage Sickness going around recently; we kind of need them."

Everyone was paying avid attention now, any negative opinions on the poison topic aside. Dumbledore was the first to say anything.

"Ah, you mentioned the passing of your father, young man. Again, my condolences. And my deepest regrets at your running into a Dementor outside the doors."

"Yes, those things were not fun. A-rank genjutsu -level, I'd estimate. Very sloppy though; Itachi Uchiha and most of T&I are rolling in their graves, rest in peace you creepy bastards."

BANG

For the second time that morning, the doors to the Great Hall were slammed open.

Rising to his feet, Dumbledore surveyed the newcomers.

Adeline Carrow, of the Board of Governors and guardian of the Carrow twins in Hogwarts' Third Year. Head of the Unspeakables, who went by the name Croaker. Justin Thrawecliff of the International Magical Office of Law, and last but not least, Lucius Malfoy a step behind a worryingly confident Minister Cornelius Fudge. The whole procession was brought up at the rear by a volley of Hit Wizards in full riot gear; prepared for a heavy battle.

The student body fell silent, several of the older years and prefects gently sliding under the tables for cover, in anticipation of a pitched spell-fight.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Ministry," Dumbledore nodded in greeting. "To what do we owe the...ah...honour?"

Lucius smirked as Fudge puffed up self-righteously. "Quite simple, Albus! Our two friends here are to be taken in for detainment and questioning, as is procedure for illegal immigrants!"

"Oh look Draco, your father's about to die," Blaise Zabini muttered dryly under his breath, before joining the students under the table and holding a shielding spell on his lips.

*Upbeat jingle plays*

Ask Kankuro!

Who has police duties in Suna?

'We don't have a special, set aside force, if that's what you mean; not like Konoha had with the Uchiha. We have rotas for Home Patrol, which are usually shinobi on light duties for whatever reason. Mostly medical, but you sometimes get shinobi on emotional/mental health leave and they always get a stable patrol partner for safety reasons.
Sometimes Genin will take night patrols, if their sensei wants to break them into coping with night or multi-day missions.

In general though, the community keeps tabs on itself. Suna shinobi coming from civilian stock more often than not, and living in such a comparatively isolated Village, means that everybody knows everyone to some degree or another. So if you start and argument in the street, you're more likely to get slapped upside the head by your mother's old Genin teammate's brother's wife, than dragged off by the Home Patrol.

The only real problems they end up dealing with are noise/pest/domestic complaints, drunkenness, watching for infiltrators and, in the past, keeping people the hell away from Gaara.
Home Patrol also double as emergency paramedics and hospital transport.'

What are your's and Temari's favourite movies?

'This might seem like a bit of a copout, but I like some of the older, classic movies on This Side. Most are book adaptations, like 'Bridge of Starlings', 'Court of Swallows' and 'Temple of Nightingales', which was a really good trilogy, by the way. 'Ronin of Dog Mountain' is technically an original motion picture, but it's been remade so many times...the 1967 Akane Tsugimoto version is the best, but apparently they're remaking it again next year.
'Children of Frost' is hands-down a great book, if a bit deep on the ethics and paced a bit slow, but the two-part movie is a masterpiece and anyone who says otherwise can fight me, and about two hundred fans here in Suna.'

Outside movies...hmm...The Godfather, definitely. The first Alien was good, great tension, the second movies just didn't click for me. Arcadia of My Youth was brilliant.

Temari likes horror movies. And anything with political satire. She likes the trilogy I just mentioned for that reason, and she really likes Akira. And The Thing. Basically anything where the horror is clever and meaningful.

Sometimes my sister scares me, y'know?'

P.S. All movie/book titles mentioned by Kankuro that are in quotation marks, do not exist. They are titles I randomly generated from my head for world-building.

P.P.S. Children of Frost is a song by Indica that I based the 'book' off of. And I sort of based 'Ronin of Dog Mountain' on the song I am Stretched on Your Grave by Dead Can Dance.

As always, read, review and enjoy!