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. I will also add that any sections or phrases in this chapter that bear resemblance to works by either author or from movies based on works of said authors is recreated in the same spirit of free usage and is not for profit.
A/N: Here it is: the sequel and second instalment of my Gaara-in-Hogwarts series. If you haven't read Silent Humanity I would recommend you do so first, including the epilogue I have just uploaded as well.
This first chapter is quite a bit shorter than you will be used to but I wrote it as such to get both it and the longer epilogue for Silent Humanity uploaded as quickly as possible. Plus I figured after reading the 26,500 word epilogue you might appreciate a brief chapter to read immediately after.
As I stated at the end of the last chapter, when naming this fic (a process for which I have precious little aptitude), the SoulSiblings gave me help in coming up with this one as well as with my devising the Triwizard tasks.
I will state here to avoid any misunderstandings, that there will be no outright romances in this instalment either.
Also thank you to everyone who weighed in on whether I should use canonical or noncanon tasks for the Triwizard Tournament. I will keep my decision to myself for the moment and you will have to live in suspense until they arrive.
Since you will most likely have just finished the last instalment, I won't bother with a 'Last Time' segment here.
Update: The cover image is by Spiral of Destiny, who generously donated their time and skills to design and draw the above picture (in considerate consultation with me).
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Harry awoke with a start, the chill of a cold sweat still running over him. Unlike some of his dormmates, Harry did not often remember his dreams but as the shock settled, he wondered if his night vision had even been a dream. He hoped so.
Even as he recalled it upon waking, it was fading at the edges, shying away from his probing consciousness. In the dream, he had been crawling along the ground, slithering even, and had sneaked up behind an elderly muggle in an old run down house. The gentleman had been spying into the only lit room. As he was startled by whoever Harry was supposed to be, he fell back into the room and Harry had seen them.
There had been four people in black cloaks, their faces were obscured, or maybe they had not been and he just could not remember them. And Harry had seen him. Voldemort.
He could not summon the image now that he tried but he was sure it had been his parents' murderer. He had not looked right. Harry was not sure what Voldemort was supposed to look like when he was not stretched over the back of someone's head or when he was sixteen, but Harry was sure he was not supposed to be whatever he had been in the dream, and yet he was sure. It was him.
Like his title, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was entirely obscured from his memory now, so Harry could not adequately explain later why the word homunculus came to mind without resorting to speculation.
Harry did not know what had shaken him more: the sight of Voldemort, surely terrifying (if only he could remember why), watching the poor hapless witness being killed with an inexplicably familiar green spell, or hearing what had been said between the cloaked figures before the man's discovery and death.
Like Voldemort's face and most of the particular details of the scene, the men's voices had faded with his increasing alertness. They had conferred with whatever was left of Voldemort and Harry had heard them mention placing a new spy in the Ministry of Magic, in light of Lucius' failures; and more troubling was that they openly conspired to kidnap Harry. Apparently one of them was spearheading the operation.
Even if it had been a dream, and he dearly wished it was, Harry decided he would be wary of any potential abductors (*cough* Slytherins *cough*) for the foreseeable future.
No more slumber parties at Malfoy's house, he thought wryly.
Speaking of dark households, Harry sat up and scrambled for his glasses. He would write to Sirius and tell him all about it immediately. He was sure his dogfather would tell him that it was all a dream and nothing to worry about. He was looking forward to hearing those assurances in person when Sirius came to collect him for the World Cup.
OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
Gaara awoke with a start, his brows knitted together in the beginnings of a headache. Being what he was, Gaara was cursed to listen to his headache spread with the sound of raucous laughter inside his mind.
Gaara had been in this world for almost a year now (not a landmark he had been looking forward to), and he had resolved himself to checking up on Shukaku more often. With his animagus training and the full circuit of the Earth around the Sun, he was concerned that his seal might shift again. Really, he hadn't the first clue what had caused the initial change and it concerned him greatly.
Of course, upon visiting his inner demon this first time after he made this (retrospectively) impulsive decision, it was clear he had underestimated the cost of such vigilance.
A couple of days before, Gaara had confirmed that his efforts this summer had not been wasted and that he was indeed capable of becoming an animagus. He told Shukaku this in the hope that the beast would reciprocate and offer some nugget of wisdom pertaining to his monthly transformation cycle. The tanuki was always quick to mock and jeer but so far he had not divulged any useful wisdom despite Gaara's suspicion that the one-tail knew something or other about the matter.
It had been silly, expecting the monster to follow the conventions of good will and offer any type of aid to his host. To say Shukaku had been unhelpful would be to woefully understate the exchange.
As he was wont to be, the sand demon had spent the full half-hour conversation slinging insults and jokes at Gaara and then trying to suggest creative ways Gaara could kill the population of London. Shukaku had been salivating at the prospect of so very many humans to kill.
Talks with his tenant were best summarised, in Gaara's weathered experienced opinion, since the full exchanges were tedious. Picking out any words of use was a difficult task that Gaara was all too accustomed to, but in between the course words there had been a couple nuggets of insight.
"Imagine that, whole buildings coming down on top of them!" Shukaku had hollered. "I couldn't take a step out there without crushing a hundred of them. I'll tell you all about being a fluffy little baby tanuki if you let me loose for the night."
"No."
"You're no fun. Ever since you went through the Kurai Sekai, you've been no fun! Those wraith things don't bleed and you haven't spilled any blood in ages."
"What's the Kurai Sekai?" Gaara asked.
Of course, then Shukaku had lorded this knowledge over him and given nothing more on the subject. He clearly knew at least a little about whatever had left him in this world.
As he sat in his over-plush bed, he regretted the fact that he was going to have to make good on his intention to regularly stop in to see his tenant. Clearly Shukaku knew more than he was saying about their exile to this world, and probably regarding the transformations too.
His demons to bear, Gaara supposed.
OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
As Gaara descended for a glass of water to take with the magical leaf he had snatched from the worryingly well-stocked medicine cabinet of a former DADA professor he knew, he was startled to find the normally quiet early morning house in a flurry of activity. This leaf, that apparently alleviated headaches and had an appropriately silly magical name, would hopefully help him prepare for his long day ahead.
Sirius had told him they would be leaving at the crack of dawn so Gaara had taken that to mean, like all the other times his guardian had hyperbolically claimed they would do something 'at the crack of dawn' or 'first thing in the morning', that they would in fact be leaving closer to lunchtime. Gaara, night owl that he was, had never seen Sirius before 5 a.m., so he was more than a little surprised and displeased to find both Sirius and Remus already bustling around downstairs half an hour before the sun was to rise.
They were packing their tents and other supplies into magically expanded duffle bags, having failed to do it the night before. Gaara noticed one of the bags just seemed to be loaded with food and drink, of which the majority was drink. Gaara would have to look around for some earplugs, he suspected.
"Oh, good, Gaara. I was just about to come and get you. Figured you'd probably be awake by now anyway." Sirius said, all good cheer. Clearly he had been mainlining coffee.
"Could you go and get anything you want to bring with you, Gaara? Your pillow, maybe a book-"
"No books!" Sirius interrupted Remus, "You can bloody well read any time. Today you'll hang out with the rest of us and have some fun!"
Gaara gulped a little, "But-"
"Fun!" Sirius concluded and took another swig of Kreacher's extra strong black coffee.
Gaara turned around and went to get his pillow, a spare set of clothes and a single book. He also collected his smaller hip gourd. It was inconvenient to carry around his standard sand gourd, especially in muggle areas, so he had taken to carrying a greatly reduced volume of sand that would still function as an initial defence.
He smuggled the book under his pillow to Remus, who packed them safely away with a conspiratorial look. When Sirius finally came down from his caffeine high, he would be less intense and Gaara would be able to read in peace, hopefully.
Of course, that would only last until Sirius got drunk enough to start bothering Gaara again, but there was nothing anybody could do about that.
Kreacher had prepared a small breakfast but Gaara was not hungry so Sirius ate it as well as his own.
Remus was left to haul most of the bags to the portkey while Sirius went to collect Harry. It had been decided, mutually, that Gaara could not be trusted to come along without prompting from one of them, so, since his arms and wand were free, Sirius would be watching Gaara while he went to pick up Harry. That way there was less chance of the red-haired shut-in running back to his room and barricading himself in, or running off.
Remus had reluctantly agreed with the plan of action, seeing as it was essentially a form of imprisonment, but he also knew Gaara was still a child and sometimes a firm hand had to be taken.
Gaara was not happy about anything that was happening, particularly the prospect of apparition (and something called a portkey that he just knew was going to be unpleasant since it was designed by wizards).
"Don't be grumpy, Bandit. We only have to apparate twice." Sirius said.
Gaara continued to be grumpy.
They each carried some weight since Remus would never manage to lug all the multiple duffel bags and tent supplies by himself.
"See you there, Moony." Sirius cheered, walking out the front door. It was at least a pleasantly sunny day
Gaara did not bother with any parting words, and walked out silently, shutting the door in the middle of whatever Remus had been saying.
They apparition was as unpleasant as Gaara remembered and he was not looking forward to another jump like that. Sirius was less than sympathetic, his smile threatening to touch his earlobes as they walked down Privet Drive.
Gaara thought they were curious houses: all practically identical except for the different coloured 'cars' parked by a few of them. It was eerie, even after having lived in a haunted castle and a rundown townhouse.
The only way to distinguish them, Gaara realised, was by the small numbers set by each of the doors. Sirius had been here before and confidently walked along the road until they reached the house designated number 4. It was entirely as unremarkable as any of the other houses, in Gaara's eyes.
There was a small device that Gaara understood was an electronic doorbell, which Sirius entirely ignored as he pounded on the door. The painted black door was gently opened in moments.
"Good afternoon, how can I-" Whatever Petunia had been about to say to the rude visitor cut off when she realised it was her freakish nephew's freakish godfather here to pick him up again as promised. She did not bother to greet the freakish man and the even more freakish red-haired boy stood behind him. To think that ex-convict would have the cheek to bring yet another freak to her home!
Sirius took this snub as he always did and reciprocated in kind.
Petunia, who had the sad appearance of a woman who long ago tried to overcome her naturally plain looks through hard work and perseverance and had now convinced herself that instead of God-given, whatever beauty she had mustered was the deserved result of her determination.
She looked even less pleased to see Sirius this morning, which he did not wonder about. Vernon had been particularly aggrieved to discover that Mr Black was taking the boy to an international sports festival (albeit a one for freaks) since he had not been able to afford to take Dudley to the FIFA World Cup in the States last year. Dudley had also been unhappy to hear it, but had instead focussed his frustrations on screaming at his mother and father to take him to another event.
Harry had enjoyed the whole drama for once since the Dursleys were too afraid of Sirius to vent their upset on him.
He had hardly been able to sleep the night before, so excited to be going the next day. Harry practically skipped down the stairs with his rucksack on his shoulder. Aunt Petunia had moved out of the way so that he was free to hug Sirius (despite having seen him not too long ago).
Once released, Sirius asked "Ready to go?"
"Just need to put my shoes on." He sat at the bottom of the stairs and hurriedly laced his trainers on. He had not spared Gaara a second glance, determined not to let the redhead's presence ruin his day. Gaara was happy to do the same, as usual.
Petunia slammed the door the second he was clear of it. Gaara spared the house Harry lived in a second look as they departed, and then at all of the identical buildings down the way.
When they reached their usual secluded spot to apparate out of sight, Harry automatically clutched Sirius' shoulder whereas Gaara took a moment to make his peace with both the bodily contact and the impending apparition. Once he had, following a loud throat-clear from Sirius, they popped out of existence in Surrey and reappeared in a wooded area in a central London park.
Harry appreciated the fact that Gaara, as unflappable as he tended to be, still stumbled as embarrassingly as Harry had when they landed.
"I thought you were going to miss it." Remus sighed in relief, laden like a pack mule and forced to waddle over to the trio.
"Well, these two couldn't help themselves. They hugged, there were tears. It was a beautiful reunion." Sirius smirked, taking pity on the werewolf and taking one of the large bags from his overburdened shoulders.
Meanwhile Harry and Gaara had shared a rare look after hearing Sirius' poor joke. They too took a couple of bags from Remus, who looked immensely grateful for the relief.
As there were only so many portkeys in London, most hidden in parks or abandoned buildings, Sirius, Remus, Gaara and Harry were not alone in the glade. Around them were almost twenty witches and wizards, all stood around an old tire waiting for the allotted time.
"What are we all waiting for?" Harry asked, still unsure how they would be getting to wherever the match was being held.
"Any minute now…" Remus said, looking at his watch. A number of the other Quidditch goers were doing the same. When they started to approach the old tire, Remus and Sirius did the same.
"Make sure you get a good hold of the portkey. You don't want to get thrown off and end up in Wales."
When the two teens saw everyone else touching their fingers to the tire, they got the idea and did the same. Remus was still staring at his watch until he looked up, smiled at Harry and Gaara and their stomachs sunk in sudden realisation.
The turbulence and g-force of the sudden transit was like nothing either teenager had ever experienced. It was a strange feeling, in all senses, and by the time Gaara and Harry fell to the ground they were both resolute that they would not be returning to London via another portkey. Worst of all, Sirius seemed to find it terribly amusing, his teenage wards' floundering landing.
At least Remus had stifled his laughter.
The other witches and wizards were trying to avoid looking directly at the prone boys, which Harry certainly appreciated. They collected themselves and their bags and all four started into the camp grounds which were already filled with tents and revellers.
"I got us a couple pitches over there," Sirius said, pointing away from the stadium and the nicer, fancier-looking tents and towards the more ramshackle area. "The best parties happen in the cheap spots." He finished by way of an explanation.
"They've cracked down on the riots that used to spring up," Remus warned, remembering how Sirius and James used to jump right into the fights when they had all gone to the finals years ago.
"Well, I'm sure we…"
"You can't go starting anything either. You've only just gotten out of prison, do you really want to find out if they've already given away your cell?"
Harry was worrying behind them, imagining just that. He had experienced his godfather's infamous immaturity and rambunctiousness firsthand since visiting Grimmauld Place, so he knew he would have to keep an eye on the man as the evening progressed.
Gaara was wistfully regretting giving in too easily to Sirius' silly idea. Honestly, camping and Quidditch…
Sirius stopped by a larger, unoccupied area that was probably theirs and their neighbour's patches. They unloaded their bags and cases and Remus insisted that they should set up now, before cracking open the firewhisky and other smuggled-in muggle alcohols like Padfoot suggested.
The tent did not seem quite as luxurious as Sirius had assured Gaara it was going to be. It was sizeable by tent standards, he supposed. Taller than himself and would certainly contain enough floor space for Harry, Sirius and he to lie down, but by the way Sirius had been talking since he belatedly told Gaara they were going, Gaara had come to imagine some sort of comfortable magical holiday home.
Sirius had taken note of the distinctly unimpressed expression on Gaara's face and the concerned one on Harry's (possibly responding to the fact that he would likely be sleeping in close proximity to the displeased redhead that night). The bearded ex-convict secured the final tether with a flick of his wand and smirked. He would let the boys sweat for a little while longer while he helped Remus with his one-man tent.
Harry's face had indeed been reflecting the thought of being unconscious within four feet of Gaara (who he was still not entirely convinced was not secretly evil), but he had also been dwelling on the attention their group had been receiving since they arrived.
Sirius was a celebrity that many openly stared at as they had wandered to their patch, and Harry was known to be in his company and was somewhat recognisable in his own right by now, even with The Scar covered by his fringe. Even Professor Lupin had garnered responses, typically of fear, as Sirius was known to keep company with a werewolf. Then came Gaara who some knew to be the hero of the Attack on Hogwarts and who was also in the company of Mr Black. Other stared at Gaara because of his curious image and the gourd strapped to his hip.
In all, the foursome had quickly become the talk of the shanty town. Luckily, Sirius' direct neighbours were foreigners on one side (who had no idea who Sirius was and who seemed to already be tipsy long before the match had even begun), and on the other…
"Good morning, Mr Potter," Announced an officious boy in his late teens.
Gaara had the strongest feeling that he had House Points subtracted by the boy approaching them, but he couldn't remember a name. A Weasley, to be sure, but which one?
"Morning, Percy. Where are Mr and Mrs Weasley and the others? Did you come ahead?" Harry replied as the boy reached them.
"I have my apparition license now, so Bill, Charlie and I were sent ahead. They were with me but they wandered off."
"Well, you know Professor Lupin of course, and you probably crossed talked to Gaara once or twice last year," Harry smirked. "And you met Sirius at my party."
Sirius stepped forward to shake hands, enjoying the nervous, queasy turn the boy had taken at being confronted by both a werewolf and a convicted (and exonerated) mass murderer without anybody to act as a buffer. Then Gaara closed in and Percy looked around for witnesses.
It occurred to Harry that Percy had been given the dubious title of Head Boy and was thus supposed to be a model Gryffindor, and yet looking at the skinny ginger he thought there had not been a lion so cowardly since Dorothy's time in Oz.
"Ay up, Perce. Big bad wolf not gobbled you up yet?" Someone yelled from the path.
Gaara's silently groaned. Great, more Weasleys…
As if Gaara's association with Harry that Sirius' relationship necessitated were not bad enough, it seemed he was doomed to find himself surrounded by Weasleys on a regular basis as an added consequence.
Bill and Charlie were introduced, having been out of the country for the past few years when Harry might otherwise have met them. They were as friendly as any Weasley he had ever encountered and were even more interesting to talk to, considering one cracked curses for goblins and the other handled dragons. Even Gaara had taken an interest in tales of those two professions.
They had greeted Gaara like any friend of the family despite their family's long-standing feud with any member of Slytherin. Clearly saving a few of their lives was good for some conviviality.
They had also taken great joy in keeping Percy near Lupin and Black. Strangely enough, despite the family siding with Gaara, Percy looked almost as nervous around Gaara as he did around the werewolf in their midst. Charlie had quietly assured Gaara that Percy was just a sissy for believing all of those Ministry rumours.
Gaara did not care, other than that the government of this country was circulating gossip about him.
Bill had taken an interest in Gaara, mostly because he was a fourteen year old with tattoos and eyeliner of his face (or so he assumed). The older redhead confided that he had a tattoo already but he wanted one or two more in visible places, but his mother would surely kill him. Gaara could not imagine Molly Weasley, who he had met on a couple occasions, killing anybody. When he said so, he garnered laughter from the two un-terrified Weasley present, which he did not fully understand.
Despite his trepidation about Sirius' responsibility and the attention they were attracting, Harry was having the time of his life. Surrounded by even more witches and wizards than Hogwarts, all of whom were Quidditch supporters, ready to party. It was heaven on Earth.
As the gingers unloaded the small bags they had brought with them, Sirius mentioned that he was pretty sure he had met Bill and Charlie before, when they were younger. During the war, when Sirius, Remus and James were acquainted with Molly and Arthur in some unspecified manner, they had encountered the oldest Weasley children once or twice. Neither of the Weasley men remembered these meetings, but they were interested to hear anecdotes of the period.
Clearly both boys wanted to hear war stories the older men had no interest in telling. Instead they got a handful of remembrances of the embarrassing things the Weasley men had said and done when they were young children.
They were saved from making excuses for their banal tales when Harry asked about the tent, unable to see how the three-man tent was a 'magical marvel' that 'makes camping as comfortable as staying in a hotel'. Both boys were sceptical when Sirius offered a 'tour' seeing as all three would not be able to stand inside of the tent.
Sirius stepped in and Harry followed carefully after, expecting to bump into his godfather in the cramped tent. Instead, he stepped into what looked like a luxurious marquee, replete with an enormous sitting area and a series of offshoots that Harry assumed were bedrooms. It looked marvellous and magical.
Gaara stepped in, even more carefully than Harry had, and gave the cavernous area a once-over before nodding and walking into one of the individual areas. Harry watched him pass by and was befuddled by Gaara's total nonchalance.
He shook his head and got back into the spirit of things. Gaara did not re-emerge from his nook, so Sirius started the tour in that area, not allowing Gaara a moments peace until he set down his book and followed them. Remus had wandered in with the Weasley boys to see the tent.
"Blimey, it's even bigger than ours! And it's just the four of you in here?" Bill said, looking around the tent big enough to fit ten very comfortably.
"Yes, well, no actually. I have my own tent. It's just Sirius, Harry and Gaara in here."
"Waste of space, that is." Charlie remarked.
"I still don't get why you can't sleep in here, Professor Lupin," Harry said. "It's not about, you know, your…problem, is it?"
"No, it's nothing like that. I just don't trust Sirius to leave me alone when I'm asleep without a lockable door to protect me." He smirked, making Harry sweat. "Plus his snoring is monstrous."
Remus was just about to suggest that he go and set up his own well-used (muggle) tent when they heard a commotion outside. Suspending the tour, they all filed out to find half a dozen more redheads and a brunette waiting outside.
"Harry!" Ron and Hermione chorused inharmoniously and ran up to greet him.
At that moment, Molly stormed up to her two eldest sons to give them an earful for disregarding her order to take the bulk of the bags with them and begin setting up the tent. Instead, Percy had taken his assigned bags but the other two had taken only the smallest bags and run off. Leaving her and Arthur to wrangle the children and keep track of everything else.
Percy of course denied any foreknowledge, while the other swatted him over the back of the head before they received their own swats.
Once Molly had told off her children, she swept up Harry into her customary hug and then looked at where Gaara had been moments before. He was walking quickly back towards his tent but she marched over and caught him too, eliciting a 'grumpy' look from him, and a snicker from Sirius. Molly sent Sirius a scathing look as she finally released the prickly teen.
She had never felt someone tense up so rigidly when she held them, not even Harry. It was worrying, to say the least. Still, repeated exposure should clear that up!
Fred and George took their mother's distraction and their father's preoccupation in putting up the tent (he would not accept any help in putting it up) to approach Sirius. In the most conspicuously secret fashion, they took him aside and proposed a rather sizeable wager on the outcome of the game. They had been saving all of the profits from their joke products for a while now and they were ready to put up nearly a hundred galleons.
"Of course I won't make a bet with you; you're far too young to be wasting your money like that!" Sirius loudly declared, barely earning a second look for the Weasley parents who had been expecting their troublesome sons to try something like this.
Once Sirius saw the elder Weasleys refocus on their own tasks, satisfied that Mr Black had not been drawn into the twins' latest mischief, he signalled the twins to follow him around behind the tent.
"I'll put 250 galleons on Ireland to catch the snitch and win the game." He said, stroking his beard as he had started to do lately.
"Make it 500!" Fred declared.
George blanched and pulled Fred further aside and whispered, "We don't have 500 galleons!"
"We don't have 250 either. Might as well make it a real bet," Fred smiled. George looked fearful for only a moment longer before joining his brother.
"Deal!" George said.
Sirius beamed, sticking out his hand to shake. He suspected the boys did not have that much money but he would take whatever they did have and maybe a few favours in lieu of the full amount. It would serve as a valuable lesson. On the other hand, if Sirius lost he would happily funnel the money his evil family had been hording for hundreds of years into a 'blood traitor' family.
Either way it would serve to make the game even more interesting.
Re-emerging from their seclusion, Sirius grimaced when he saw that Molly was not letting Gaara stray too far. She seemed to be under the impression that Gaara's light stature and trim figure was the result of neglect, of him by himself or his guardian. Resultantly she was shooting Sirius occasional suspicious glares and keeping Gaara close.
After the shock had settled, he kept the smirk off of his face. It looked as if, in between dirty looks directed at Sirius, Molly was giving Gaara a scolding for not eating properly.
Ginny eventually rescued Gaara, dragging away the put-upon boy. Harry, Ron and Hermione had gone for a stroll and the twins were off looking for other bets they couldn't afford to make, so Gaara was the only other teenager around (Percy did not count!)
Gaara had not had much contact with Ginny Weasley before, the most memorable encounter being the girl's attempt to slap him when she thought he was trying to… corrupt (?) Luna. He still had no idea what that had been about.
Now, however, Ginny was quite happy to converse with him and chat about Luna, it seemed. It was better than listening to Mrs Weasley tell him off for not eating enough and for not getting enough sleep. The latter he could hardly help (he felt like a complete sloth if he had more than 15 hours of sleep a week), and the former he disagreed with. He had a small frame, perhaps, but he happily ate as much as Sirius (if he was hungry). Granted, since he was doing very little exercise he did not tend to work up much of an appetite, but he could not imagine his diminished nutritional intake was to blame for his growth stunt.
Ginny insisted on showing Gaara their tent since it was 'absolutely massive', according to her. It was actually the size down from Sirius' oversized family tent, but it was several decades newer. Orion Black had bought their tent in the early 1960s for such events (and Muggle hunting expeditions), and had made sure there was enough room for his family, friends and at least one valet. Plus enough room for Kreacher to keep out of sight.
Sirius sometimes wondered what happened to Mr Wentwhistle, his father's valet. Cold but not cruel, he had disappeared sometime during Sirius' second year at Hogwarts and had never been replaced. His mother and father also refused to speak of him ever again.
When Gaara mentioned that Sirius' tent was bigger than the Weasley pavilion, Ginny insisted on seeing it.
"This is ridiculous. How come you've got all of this room for just three of you?" Ginny had been camping with her family before, and being cramped in with her brothers and her parents was not conducive to the sort of beauty sleep she needed (especially if she was going to be seeing Harry in the morning!)
She threw a nearby throw pillow at Fred (or George) when they made a snarky comment about her state in the morning and Harry. She would have preferred throwing a spell or two.
Gaara ignored the family feud and used the distraction to hide in his "room". The secluded nook of the tent would give him enough peace and privacy to continue reading the one book he had been 'allowed' to bring with him. He still had an hour before they would all need to head towards the stadium for the game. If the others left the tent soon, he might continue on his animagus training, which was reaching a new stage that actually included some limited transformation.
Sadly it only took five minutes for Molly and Sirius to work who was missing from their group, other than the trio who were within sight milling about the camp ground. Sirius elected to fetch his wayward ward.
In the end, Sirius wheedled at Gaara to get him to join in the festivities, and when that did not work he had to transform and steal Gaara's book. Sirius had long since learned the "rules" of Gaara's so-called ultimate defence. As long as there was no malicious intent or chance that Gaara would be hurt, his sand would not automatically block any action around him.
So unless he had somehow seen it coming, there was nothing Gaara could have done to prevent the terribly irritating dog from snatching his book in its teeth and running away with it.
Sighing, Gaara knew there was nothing he could say that would convince Sirius to leave him be, so he followed the dog out hoping to retrieve his book before the saliva and teeth marks ruined it.
Padfoot had turned back into Sirius by the time Gaara emerged, but refused to return the book, saying, "You can bloody well get it back after the match. Maybe tomorrow."
Gaara sat on one of the logs that had been set before the fire pit, and waited. He was able to stare into the flames and peacefully contemplate for all of seventeen seconds before George and Fred plopped down on either side of him.
Sirius was wandering around the campsite with Harry this time, enjoying the busyness of the area enormously. They continued to draw stares and Harry came to envy his godfather's apparent ability to ignore all of the attention.
"Have you spent any time in your trunk yet?"
"Loads, lately. I've been doing all of my homework down there." Harry did not want to worry Sirius by admitting that he had moved his duvet and pillows into the enlarged trunk a week ago.
"Good, I'm glad. I don't think Gaara has even looked inside his yet," Sirius said, bitterly. To be fair, Gaara had very few possessions of his own, even fewer than Harry, so there was not much he needed to store in the giant storage device.
Harry had not been surprised to hear that Gaara received a special trunk also, and he had worked very hard to not let it bug him. "It's amazing, it really is. I was thinking of asking Professor McGonagall about it when I go back in September. I want to know what magic was used to make it."
"That's a good idea, though I would suggest Flitwick instead of McGonagall. It's a charm rather than a transfiguration so he is probably more apt to explain it. Though McGonagall knows just about everything, so you wouldn't be wrong to approach her either, really."
"Oh, okay. I will." Harry was a little embarrassed to admit he did not know anything about how the trunk was spelled.
Gaara was getting the impression, like at Potter's birthday, that people thought he secretly longed for company so they continually approached him.
Before the match, Sirius, Remus and Arthur had been ready to crack out the booze until Molly had seen her boys (minus Percy and Ron) shifting towards the men and put a stop to it. She did not care how old Bill and Charlie were, she would not stand for them getting drunk. She said as much and forbid any bottles (or kegs…) from being opened until after the match. She would have happily extended the ban indefinitely, but she knew there was no hope of it standing after the match finished.
With his drunken ambitions thwarted, Sirius sloped over to Gaara and sat a respectable distance away from him on the log. Both of the sullen males stayed client until, as always, Sirius was the one to break it.
"Want to go and say hello to Draco before the match? You've got time before we have to go."
Gaara shook his head. He would see Draco sooner or later, and he would be back to living in close quarters with him in a couple weeks time, so he didn't see the need to rush. Plus, it wasn't like Draco would be unsafe with his father alone…
He would wander over after the game and spend a little time there.
It was Percy who noticed the time (his watch habitually set one minute early), and insisted that everybody get going.
The group of fourteen joined the mass crowd all filtering towards the dozens of inlets for the gigantic stadium. It had hastily been agreed that they would stand a better chance of all making it to where they were going if they split up into groups of three or four rather than trying to pull everyone through the throngs of people in one line.
The children were divided between the adults and Gaara ended up with Charlie and Bill, it having been decided that he was mature enough to handle being under the care of the immature 'adult' Weasley sons.
He did not care much about the arrangements, having been disallowed from bringing a book. He was sulking as he followed the distinctive men into the busiest area. Soon his sullenness died as Bill and Charlie took each of his hands in theirs and pulled him along when the human density threatened to divide them. His sullenness died, but his rage grew.
They were practically swimming in humans by the time they entered the tunnel, and Gaara was not handling it very well. He was dangerously close to using his sand to get some much needed space, and to retrieve his hands which he could not shake free of the redheads dragging him onwards.
When they reached the multitude of staircases that led up or down to the different seating blocks and the crowds finally thinned, Gaara's 'responsible adults' looked back and quickly let go of him when they saw the look on his face. They stepped aside and let Gaara lead the way from that point.
After a couple flights, they caught up to the others of their party who had pushed through the crowds quicker than Gaara's had been able. Everyone was relieved to see the missing trio arrive, having worried about leaving Gaara and the oldest Weasley children to their own devices. Sirius had been sure Gaara would escape and would double back. Molly had been sure they would sneak the poor boy off somewhere and leave him to fend for himself (the number of times she had to go and find Ron because they had 'lost him' somewhere when he was little).
With relief abounding, they all proceeded up the endless stairs. They climbed at least a dozen flights before they reached their box, the undisciplined wizards struggling to breathe while Gaara did not even feel winded.
The procession of Weasley and others halted on the stairs, however, and Gaara heard a heated exchange coming from above. Two very familiar voices trading barbs rang down through the steps and finally Gaara was feeling the same weight his flabby/stringy companions.
He slipped past the halted Weasleys until he came to the front of the queue where he found Draco insulting Harry in very much the manner that he had thought Draco grew out of. He blamed this regression on Lucius, standing imperiously to the side, sneering at everyone on the stares.
Gaara continued up, glad that Sirius was at the back of the line with Bill and Charlie. The last thing the situation needed was his guardian picking a fight with Lucius before the game. Hermione was trying to keep Harry calm and out of punching/kicking distance of his rival, and Ron was doing the opposite.
Gaara pushed through to stand on the landing.
"Draco." Was all the greeting he was inclined to give. It also served as a warning.
"Oh, hello, Gaara." Draco assiduously avoided making eye contact with Gaara, properly cowed for being caught doing something stupid.
Harry and Ron saw that Draco's handler had shown up and settled for angrily muttering to themselves. Hermione thought it was funny that Gaara was Draco's handler as much as Draco was Gaara's. It was a curiously symbiotic relationship.
She did not mention this interesting observation because the only people within earshot were revisiting the theory (which Ron had hit upon multiple times despite Hermione and occasionally Harry rebutting it) that Gaara was Voldemort's illegitimate son. Despite the total lack of evidence pointing to this theory, and the fact that Tom Riddle did not have blazing red hair or Gaara's particularly potent brand of Crazy Eyes, Ron seemed to come back to this theory again and again.
"The next generation of Death Eaters falling behind the next generation of Dark Lord…" Ron murmured, looking at Draco's blatant deference to Gaara.
Hermione rolled her eyes, saw Harry was solemnly nodding along, and had to let loose a great big sigh at her moronic best friends.
Sirius pushed his way past, not nearly as politely as Voldemort's only begotten son had moments before, wanting to see what the hold-up had been.
"Why, hello Sirius. You're looking well." Lucius smiled, all teeth.
"And you Lucius," Sirius shot back, "I adore what you're done with your hair. Is that a new conditioner?"
Sirius' mocking smile irritated Lucius almost as much as the fact that he had switched to a new conditioner recently, at Narcissa's request.
"I'm afraid we really must be getting to our seats, come along Draco. They have a long way to walk, to the cheap seats, and we wouldn't want them to miss the inaugural address."
Sirius' smile just grew.
"Oh, dear, oh, no, Lucius, I'm afraid you're mistaken. We're all in the Minister's box with you!"
Lucius' eyes were the only part of his face that betrayed his abject horror at the thought of sharing his peacefully and dignified booth with such a lowly and rowdy crowd.
Lucius could not trust himself to make a suitably witty retort so he turned and walked away into the private box.
Draco, on the other hand, was happy to have Gaara sitting with him. Granted, between his father's poise and Gaara's disinterest, he could not expect to share his enthusiasm with either of them, but just being there with friends and family was a treat. Hopefully he would be sitting in front of Potter and the gingers and he could pretend they weren't there.
At the door to the box there was a burly security official to check tickets upon entry, which Gaara suspected was a measure not taken at any seating area but theirs. Sirius showed his three tickets and ushered Harry and Gaara to come in with him, followed by the long procession of Weasleys.
Harry couldn't wait to see Fudge's face when he saw the crowd of redheads, Sirius Black, a known werewolf, and Gaara all sitting in his special booth. It was not a happy thought that Harry could count himself amongst the positive presences for the Minister alongside Draco Malfoy and Lucius 'almost-killed-the-boy-who-lived' Malfoy.
Draco pulled Gaara ahead to the front-most row of seats where he was given the corner seat and Lucius took the aisle. Across the steps were three more seats, roped off with velvet, reserved for the Minister. Behind Gaara and the Malfoys sat Sirius, Harry and Ron, and behind them were the Weasleys and Hermione. Molly had happily taken the seat furthest back, wishing (in a manner reminiscent of Gaara) that she had been allowed to bring her knitting with her.
Percy had uncharacteristically been fighting with his brothers to sit closer to the front, not out of a particular interest in Quidditch but one of being spotted by the Fudge, Ludo Bagman, Barty Crouch and the special guests that were here by invitation of the Minister.
In previous matches, Lucius had been asked to sit on that side of the aisle but this year he had not 'made the cut'. He would be making a mental list of the people who had been asked, since such a list had not been disclosed to him a week ago when he asked.
Gaara looked out at the pitch and really was impressed. The scale was on an entirely different level than that of Hogwarts, with the stadium containing tens or even hundreds of thousands of witches and wizards from all around the world. It was scary really. He had not heard Shukaku make such a ruckus in years.
So many people cramped into such a compact area. If Gaara were to release the demon inside right now, it would be more than a massacre, it would be a step towards genocide, and the crazed tanuki was demanding nothing less.
Draco noticed the panic on Gaara's face and correctly deduced it was from being faced with such a gathering of people (although he did not know the specific thoughts running around the redhead's crowded mind).
"They'll quieten down when the match starts up," Draco shouted next to Gaara's ear, just managing to make himself heard over the roaring fans. Since Gaara was such a recluse, it made sense that the cheering legions were upsetting him.
Gaara turned and nodded at Draco, appreciating the attempt at comfort.
He did not imagine he would find much comfort even when everyone stopped screaming, unless he followed the advice coming from within and made the screaming stop himself.
They heard footsteps coming down the steps of the box and turned to see a pair of Aurors escorting Minister Fudge between them, followed by a dozen foreign dignitaries and high Ministry officials including Ludo Bagman, but minus Lucius.
Lucius stood when he saw them, and Draco copied him. "Good evening, Minister," Lucius offered his hand to shake, which Cornelius obliged with a smile.
"Good evening, Lucius. Quite the turnout you've got here," He said, looking back at the Weasleys.
"Oh, no, they're not here with me, Minister. Just my son. They are a separate party." It was rude to correct the man, and more so to make the distinction at all, but Lucius would rather appear to be a little rude than be thought to associate with the likes of Arthur Weasley.
"Oh, right you are," Fudge said politely, his focus having shifted from his subordinate and the multiplying Weasleys to the boy sat in the corner, paying him less mind than his office demanded. If it were any more formal an event, Fudge would have called a halt to everything until the child paid him the proper respect.
Instead, he tried to ignore the impudence, especially considering exactly who it was that was dismissing him, and instead moved on to other matters. His side of the box had filled and so it was time to take his place.
Gaara noticed Lucius and Draco and everyone behind them had stood to watch the Minister enter the box but despite the protocol he knew was as standard in this world and his own, he did not bother to get up out of his seat. If he had pulled such a stunt with his father or another Kage, they would most likely have him killed or do it themselves.
Gaara really wished Fudge would try that just once. Although, if he started fighting, his bloodlust might take over and…
His mind was working all the while, but to the Minister it had just appeared as if the boy had not even considered it. By the time Gaara worked out that he should probably observe the bare minimum of respect to the faulty leader, everyone was sitting down again and he had missed his chance. No one was holding a knife to his throat so he assumed either it had not been noticed, since he was in the corner, or they just did not care so much about those sorts of things in this world.
Fudge held his wand to his throat and for a second Gaara thought this was going to be a public suicide, until the politician spoke and his words were as audible through the din as if he had been speaking in a silent room. As the cheering and screaming and whistling stopped, he figured this effect was reaching everybody in the stadium. An interesting spell, especially to a battlefield commander, he thought.
The Minister for Magic gave a short commencement speech that did not interest Gaara, beyond the applications of the spell being used. When it was over, Fudge sat back down and looked to the field below them in obvious interest.
Out from one of the tunnels running straight onto the grass surface shot the entire team of Bulgarian players, flying almost so fast that Gaara missed them. Their speed, like the size of the stadium, was completely different to even Draco's and Potter's speed on their new Firebolt brooms. If Gaara was honest with himself, he would admit he was a little impressed by the speed of the manoeuvres.
From the same entryway came a group Gaara could not see clearly, though they looked like women. They were so far away Gaara would have needed to be a Hyūga or an Uchiha to see what was happening clearly.
Despite appearing to be a group of indistinct blobs, Gaara noticed a stirring in his head and in his heart that felt almost entirely unfamiliar. The closest he could remember was how he felt when he spent time with his friends and family, but different and more intense. Blood was rushing to his cheeks but he did not understand why and, managing to tear his eyes away to glance at Draco and Lucius, he saw they too were focussing intently on the group with blushes and smiles.
Oh, It was a Genjutsu of some sort! It had to be. Yet another similarity to his own world's techniques.
So this technique was supposed to inspire an emotional reaction to a sight, it was activated like the Sharingan techniques. The emotion was… affection…friendship…Something along those lines. Perhaps Draco would know if he asked later. Until then, he dispelled the technique in the usual way and it came away easily enough. When his sight was no longer drawn towards the women on the field, he looked around and noticed that nobody had been aware to or been able to dispel the technique. Or rather, none of the males had been able to free themselves. The women watching were apparently unaffected.
Strange…
It also gave Gaara the unhealthy thought that he would be able to take over this world if he only knew a few genjutsu techniques. Oh, wait, no. That was Shukaku giving him those thoughts.
Now the beast was telling him to slaughter them all while they were still under the spell…
The spell was broken by another team flying through and disrupting the formation of women, and immediately the crowd starting cheering either for the supernaturally alluring Bulgarian mascots or the Irish team that had flown into view.
The two opposing team continued their laps of the three-dimensional 'field' as the Irish mascots emerged, a squad of absolutely tiny humanoids that Gaara's could only see because of their bright green outfits and red hair. They were dancing around and suddenly gold fell from the sky and Weasley (Ron) moved quicker than Gaara had ever seen him move before. He managed to gather some of the precious metal from the air and the box floor before his embarrassed mother pulled him back to his seat and went back to hers. All over the stadium people were snatching gold from in front of them and from each other in a mad flurry.
The two teams had settled on the grass flooring as the gold coins stopped raining, and were presumably being given a moment to get into their starting positions.
Draco, a great smile on his face, leaned into shout to Gaara, "Did you see Weasley drooling over those gold coins?! I'm surprised his whole family didn't go crawling for them!"
"They will disappear in a few hours." Gaara had read that leprechaun gold had a tendency to disappear without warning. He would have wondered how so many magical men and women did not know this simple fact but he only knew it because he had gone to the trouble of reading a book on magical creatures (looking for info on tanuki) and had seen the obscure fact.
Draco looked a little downhearted at that, having covertly slid a couple coins under his seat to collect after the game, under the guise of tying his shoes when they were leaving. It would have been nice to have a little money he did not have to get as pocket money.
The twins had seen the coins being slipped under mini-Malfoy's chair and promptly leaned forward and added them to the stash of what they had caught. They needed it much more than Money Bags Jr., they reasoned.
"Did you see those Veela!" Draco said, looking about, trying to see where the distracting beings had gotten off to.
"Veela?"
"The women. They're really magical beings that make men fall in love with them. Dirty trick by the Bulgarians."
Gaara raised an eyebrow that for all intents and purposes did not exist. So that sensation had been physical attraction? Interesting. He tried to match it to any other similar feelings he had ever experienced, but he'd never felt it before. He would have to compare notes with Temari when he got back. He did not know if Draco had any experience with romance (he doubted it) but he knew Temari was in love with that one Konoha boy. Kankuro had said it numerous times.
The respite ended as the players remounted their brooms and rose to their starting positions and the Quaffle was thrown into the air and the whistle was blown.
Gaara was genuinely impressed by the acrobatics and the speed the athletes displayed on their brooms as they played the altogether more interesting version of Quidditch than that which he had suffered through watching before. It occurred to him that if he were to fight these flying wizards, it would be a very difficult fight. The greatest disadvantage wizards had in combat against him was that they tended to be slow and immobile, easy to strike at and dodge.
Of course, the only reason his mind had gone to combat was that Shukaku had still not shut up. He was getting a serious headache.
The professional players raced about so fast he was struggling to keep up with everything at once. At one point, one of the Bulgarians was knocked off of his broom, but his teammates paid him no mind and he was rescued only a few metres above the ground by a spell sent out by the referee at the last second.
In the background, one of the Ministry men who had entered with Fudge was speaking into a microphone and rattling off a suitably fast-paced commentary.
He had not been paying any attention to the scores, only the movements of the balls and brooms, so when the young Bulgarian Seeker caught the Snitch, Gaara was baffled when the Irish were announced as the winners. Although, Gaara did not fully understand the rules to begin with, so he had been under the impression that catching the Snitch was the object of the game.
Draco interrupted his overzealous cheering to interpret Gaara's quizzical expression and explain the results. Gaara thought it was terribly unfair on the Bulgarian Seeker.
While the initial celebrating was going on, the Twins, with smiles bigger than Gaara thought physically possible, stood from their seats and (for the first time Gaara could remember witnessing) split to approach two different men.
Sirius, who was smiling despite his approaching debt collector, pulled out a piece of paper and a little pencil Remus had given him, and wrote out an IOU for 500 galleons. He was going to have a hard time explaining this to Molly (Arthur would understand quickly enough, he thought), and to his accountant (whenever he got around to actually hiring one to manage his family's investments).
Fred took the IOU with a raised eyebrow. If he didn't know where Sirius lived, and that he was fabulously wealthy and careless with his money, he might have been disinclined to let an IOU suffice. As it was Sirius Black, of all people, he would wait until they could all go to Gringotts together.
George had approached Ludo Bagman, having to ask his way past the bodyguard watching Fudge (who had ordered the guards to keep an eye on Black, Lucius, and Gaara, but felt no threat from Arthur Weasley's son). Bagman was sweating profusely and begged to be allowed to collect the money from his tent since he had not brought it with him. George figured, since it was the Ludo Bagman, he could trust him this far. Plus it was a relatively small sum compared to the ridiculous amount they had bet Sirius.
Bagman did not seem up to closing the ceremony, despite having commentated the entire match, so Fudge stood to do it again. The man was a disgrace, the Minister thought. If Bagman managed to make it through the next year without screwing up, he would be moved to another less prominent position where he couldn't cause any more problems. If he managed to mess up Fudge's last chance, he would make sure to bring ruin to Bagman's life even more than the pathetic man had managed to do on his own.
The twins had returned to their seats and were scribbling away on the back of Sirius' IOU, working out exactly how much more they needed to open their dream. It looked like they would only need an investment of 500 galleons, but to get that they would need to find someone willing to go in with them as partners.
Lucius had enjoyed the game, as much as he ever enjoyed the vulgar entertainments of the plebeians. He might have appreciated the match a little more had Sirius Black not spent the duration screaming right behind his ear and 'accidentally' spilling popcorn all over him. Twice!
"Minister," Lucius said as soon as the departing Minister was within earshot, "I do hope you will do me the honour of joining me for a brandy."
"I'm afraid not, Lucius. I won't be staying in the camp tonight. I have a meeting early tomorrow I need to be ready for." Fudge, who had always done his best to keep Lucius happy and would always entertain an offer from the influential pureblood, hardly spared the blond a second glance.
Stunned by the dismissal, Lucius was hardly aware enough to say the proper farewells to his colleagues and the foreign dignitaries that had been invited with Cornelius and who were presumably following him to the Minister's private residence for a dignified after party. He did not know what he had done to cause this rift but Lucius was determined he would repair it before it was too late and he was forced to abandon the Minister he had spent a decade shoring up.
Step one would be to work his way in between Cornelius and Morbidus.
Gaara watched the Minister for Magic leave the box with his guests and his guards, standing not out of respect but because his group were also about to leave and had to wait for the politician to depart first. Lucius seemed to have been snubbed but perhaps that was just how Lucius and Fudge interacted normally. Probably not, judging by the defeated posture of the proud aristocrat.
Lucius corrected his appearance, brushed off the remaining popcorn crumbs, and turned to his son and Gaara.
"Gaara, if you would like to enjoy some more civilised company this evening, please do stop by our tent for a visit." Lucius managed a smile for his son's friend, something he had never bothered with before.
"Thank you. I will."
"After you've partied with us first!" Sirius piped from the row behind.
OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
The partying had commenced immediately, on a scale Gaara had not imagined possible, after the crowds had exited the stadium. Fred and George had run off despite their mother's loud admonition, intent on finding Ludo Bagman and claiming the rest of their winnings.
Needing some time alone, Gaara had also broken away from the group and ran through (and briefly on top of) the crowd to beat them back to the tent. This way he could get five minutes of peace before Sirius and Harry might barge into the enormous marquee and disturb him.
He heard them as soon as they arrived, the younger among them making an ungodly racket as they cheered and yelled about the match and the individual players. Sirius poked his head in and looked relieved to see Gaara sat on his temporary bed. Without a word, he retreated outside and rejoined the celebration.
It had not occurred to Gaara for a second that running off in the middle of a crowd like that might have given Sirius cause to worry. The oblivious Jinchūriki was still a bit puzzled, to be honest.
Outside, the adults were quickly getting drunk and Molly was left to keep everybody fed and stop them from doing anything dangerous. She was hoping the buns accompanying the barbecue would soak up some of the alcohol Sirius had been sneaking all the way back from the stadium from his hidden (not-so-hidden) hipflask.
It was really Remus' flask, but Sirius had snatched it off of him a couple weeks ago and refused to return it.
After she had handed out most of the food, she ushered the children ("We're not children, mum!") inside of her and Arthur's tent so they could continue their excited antics safely and secluded from the sight the irresponsible would-be role models getting pissed, including her two oldest babies.
Speaking of which irresponsible drunkards, she headed off Sirius before he could go and bother Gaara. The poor boy was obviously very shy and wanted some time to himself. He had done very well today, she thought. She would have liked to tell him that, but she instinctively knew he would not appreciate the comment.
She redirected Sirius in Remus' direction and took a plate in for Gaara since he had not sought out the feast earlier. No wonder he was so skinny, skipping meals like this!
He was a sweet boy really, no matter what anyone said. He was always so polite, too.
It was getting late, so she entered her tent and settled on her bed with the first book she had bought since she finished Gilderoy Lockhart's. She had been put off reading after Ronald told her about that man's real character.
The parties were beginning to wind down, although in some areas they were just getting started. Sirius was a little bummed that Molly had stopped him from saying hello to Gaara. She made it sound like he was going to start him on a life of crime. It was just a little drink!
At least drunk-Remus was there to distract him. And the older Weasley boys were funny too. And Arthur had always been a treat when he'd had a few, when he stopped worrying about everything.
Inside Gaara ate a little of the lightly burned food (the definition of a good barbecue was clearly another difference in this world), and decided now was as good a time as any to drop by the Malfoy tent. Catch them before bed and keep it brief.
He had been second-guessing the need for his checking up on Draco all evening. Being around Sirius, who had never seemed so happy in all the time Gaara had known him, surrounded by his friends and family, Gaara had started to think that perhaps the good mood Lucius and Draco had been in at the match was genuine and there was no need for concern.
Doubt and suspicion won out in the end; he was never one to trust in the wonder and beauty of family moments. As he finished the overheated cup of fire-top tea, he was just about ready to head to wherever Draco was staying. He hoped Sirius was still sober enough to be able to point him in the right direction.
He was just setting his book down when he heard a scream in the distance, probably on the other side of the camp, but still loud and shrill enough to cut through the lulling parties. The scream was followed by the sounds of an explosion and more screaming.
It was a sound he was intimately familiar with, the sounds of battle! And Shukaku was laughing.
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A/N: Thank you for reading.
I don't know when the next chapter is likely to appear since I'm on a postgrad course at the moment and the lecturers' warnings that it was going to get progressively more difficult through the year is proving true. I'm thinking of recommending that in future cohorts they write down their warning in blood onto a stone tablet. Drive home the foreboding.
Anyway, things are going to be heating up in the near future as Gaara coasts along the canon express, at least until my changes come into play. Spiralling out from Silent Humanity, the divergence from canon should be more pronounced this year in some areas.
As you will have seen, at the end of Silent Humanity, I put a call out to my wonderful readers, to ask one of them to donate their time and expertise to draw me a new cover image like the one Darkling221 created for me a few years ago.
Anyway, for the first time in this story, please drop me a review if you have the time.
Update: I have received many kind offers to draw me a new cover for Hidden Inhumanity and I have accepted one such generous proposal already, but thank you to everyone who might have considered offering. If you would still like to draw fanart for this story, please know it would make my week or month to see it.
Update #2: Spiral of Destiny has generously drawn the cover image now attached to this story, a time-intensive task that I am enormously grateful for.