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: Two updates in one year? What am I, a regular fanfic writer?
Thank you to everyone who reviewed. It was great to see so many people still like my story.
I hope you continue to enjoy.
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(Last Time)
'Hold on…'
Something occurred to Draco as he watched his friend be berated by a monster many times the size of a dragon.
The creature referred to their own world. That meant this memory happened after Gaara had come to this world. But when had Gaara been to a desert, and how could he have a connection to this demon? Where could such a monster exist in Draco's world that he would never have heard of anything remotely like it.
And then Gaara glanced over his shoulder at the way the redhead had presumably entered the cave, and he saw something.
Draco wondered what this part of the memory could mean, what Gaara had seen when he was here.
Then Gaara's eyes shot wide and he said, "Draco?"
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"How can you see me?" Draco took a step back, feeling the weight of both Gaara's and this beast's gazes boring into him.
Gaara must have thought Draco was a figment of his dreaming imagination. That was what Draco decided.
"What are you doing here?" But Gaara didn't seem confused or fuzzy, like Draco would expect of someone asleep, he seemed hostile. Like Draco was intruding. Typical of Gaara to be angry even in his dreams.
"I'm…" Draco grasped for some desperate answer but before he could come up with a halfway convincing lie, the ground began to shake.
Draco looked up at the monster to see if it was the cause but other than leering down at him, it didn't seem to be moving. And between Draco and the monster, Gaara stood glaring at him. Really, why would he be gla-
Draco shot out of his bed gasping like he had been awoken by a stinging hex.
After the immediate panic subsided, Draco remembered where he was and breathed a sigh of relief. Gaara's dreams were shocking but he was back in their room, safe and sound.
Gaara probably wouldn't remember his dream, and even if he did, he wouldn't think anything of Draco appearing in them. Draco assumed he featured in many people's dreams and probably a few Gryffindors' nightmares.
Draco looked over to where Gaara was sleeping.
Sleeping while sitting up and looking over at him…
"Oh, Gaara, you're awake." He said, as if nothing was amiss.
"Why where you in my mind?" Gaara demanded, glaring at him in a way normally reserved for other people.
"W-what are you talking about? You were just dreaming." Draco defended, sitting up straighter in his bed.
"No, I wasn't." Gaara said, getting out of bed and approaching.
"I don't know what you're talking about!" Draco said, scooting back a little further.
Gaara's eyes narrowed at something to Draco's side and he reluctantly looked away from his imposing roommate and saw the empty vial he had left on his bedside table.
"You used a potion to force your way into my mind. To steal my secrets." Gaara accused, his hairless brows creased in building rage.
"That's- I didn't! It was just a dream!" Draco argued back, pulling off his duvet and getting to his feet on the other side of the bed.
"It wasn't a dream." Gaara said.
Draco puzzled over that. It made no sense, then. It had to be a dream or a memory. Otherwise it would just be Gaara in there.
So, what was that monster?
It was obvious that his protestations of innocence wouldn't be believed so Draco changed tact.
"Alright, even if I was in there, and I'm not saying I definitely was, but what… what was that thing? Was that something you remember from your world? Why did it look like what you transform into on the full-moon?" Draco interrogated, watching to see some change in Gaara's expression.
Gaara didn't know how to process what was happening. Why did he hurt? Was it a side effect of Draco's potion?
Why had Yashamaru come to his mind?
How was he supposed to make this feeling go away?
If someone else made him feel like this, he would have killed them. But he couldn't kill Draco. Draco was his friend. But friends don't betray your trust like this, Gaara was sure about that.
Was Draco his friend?
Draco had no clue what was going on in Gaara's mind at that moment, which was exactly the opposite of what he had hoped would come of his plan.
"Okay, so perhaps I did use a potion to take a peek into your dreams, but I had to. You've been keeping all sorts of secrets, from me, and I had to know the truth. For your own sake!" Draco reasoned.
Gaara's face was still set in the same raging expression, and then he took a small step forward.
At that movement, Draco momentarily felt a spike of fear. With his intimate knowledge of Gaara, his friend had become something of a comedic figure, but now he was seeing the other side, the side that other people saw in Gaara.
As quickly as that step forward had been made, Gaara blinked, shook his head and took a larger step back, and then another.
Gaara's expression dropped back into its standard blankness, and Gaara took one more step backwards before turning sharply on his heel.
Luna's words from earlier were ringing in Gaara's ears and he knew that Draco had not been acting like a friend when he used whatever potion he had used to invade his mind.
He needed to leave before he did something he might regret later to Draco. Unless he decided he wouldn't regret it. Then maybe killing him would make this pain in his chest go away…
Gaara walked to the door. He needed to think clearly and he couldn't do that with Draco in front of him, and not with Shukaku screaming.
Gaara didn't look back and Draco found he didn't have any words to tempt him to stay.
…which was ludicrous because he did nothing wrong!
He needed answers about Gaara and how else was he supposed to get them?! Gaara sure as Merlin wasn't going to tell him willingly.
What he'd done wasn't wrong, but he did still have questions. Probably more questions than when he'd started with, if he was honest with himself, and they all centred around that creature.
What sort of issues could Gaara have for them to be represented by a demon in his dreams? Or were there really demons in Gaara's world?
As these thoughts plagued Draco's mind, he settled down for a terrible night's sleep.
What an awful Christmas.
OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
Boxing Day was supposed to be a great day for Draco.
Really, every day was supposed to be a great day for him, that was how the world was meant to work. But Boxing Day was supposed to be filled with post-Yule Ball gossip, lingering Christmas cheer, further boasting about his superior presents, searching for mentions about himself in the Prophet, and mocking Potter's 'dancing'.
Instead, as he sat in front of his breakfast, Draco felt a heavy ball of lead in his gut taking up the space his appetite might have otherwise occupied. He felt wretched. He was still 100% sure he did nothing wrong, but just having an argument with Gaara was probably causing him stress.
The sooner Gaara came to his senses, the better!
When he had entered the Great Hall, he had seen Luna rushing out in a hurry. Not seeing anyone laughing at her, he guessed it wasn't from bullies. It wasn't until he read the morning paper that he understood the real reason.
While the headline was the rather obvious 'Ministry Hosts Yule Ball', there were many subsequent articles that caught his interest as he skimmed. And then, third page in, emblazoned across both pages, he found 'Triwizard Champion Gaara's Romance with Yule Ball Date'.
In the story and accompanying in-depth analysis, it described how Gaara and third-year Ravenclaw Luna Lovegood had been long-rumoured to be sweethearts in Hogwarts' halls. But during the Yule Ball, their passionate love for each other couldn't be denied any longer as they insisted on dancing long after the other Champions had retreated from the dance floor. They sought out private moments and were seen rushing about the Ministry Ball hand-in-hand as if they were totally alone. And they had even rushed back to Hogwarts early and alone.
Draco barked out a laugh but then clutched his paper tighter so that…
Except, Gaara wasn't there to snatch the paper from him that day. If Gaara was going to hide again, he might not need to worry about Gaara seeing it at all.
Was it even his place to worry about Gaara seeing it?
Did Gaara keep things secret from his real friends back in his own world, the ones he was rushing back to see?
Was Gaara even his friend?
Draco clutched the paper tighter and then stiffly folded it and got up from the table, the picture of poise. He had been trying not to think about the harsh truths he was facing this morning but if he was going to dwell on them, he wouldn't be doing it in plain view for all to see.
In fact, if he couldn't repress the troublesome thoughts, he would have to deal with it properly. And that required answers.
So, for what felt like the hundredth time, Draco commenced searching the Hogwarts castle and grounds for his missing roommate.
Harry sat at breakfast feeling somewhat better about the general state of affairs than his Slytherin rival. He felt confident that he hadn't made any truly egregious mistakes the night before, so he might get to eat a leisurely breakfast without feeling like the biggest idiot in the castle, which was impressive when he was watching Ron trying and failing to take the top off of his soft-boiled egg to dip his toast in. He was on his third egg and Hermione looked like she was about to snap and let him have bacon instead.
She'd had the smart idea to 'influence' her friends' diets since she didn't want them to overindulge. Harry had thought he was smarter to get into an argument with her when she declared this intention a few weeks ago, but Ron had a better idea. He had started frustrating her so much every time he ate what she proposed that she would give up and let him eat what he wanted.
Of course, that didn't mean the boy struggling to take the top off an egg didn't look like a total idiot.
The morning owls had come laden with many letters for students all over the Great Hall. Harry had received a few that he would read later, but he recognised Sirius's handwriting and immediately slit that open with the cleanest knife nearby while Hermione dove into the Prophet.
'Good morning Prongslet,
It is to my great shame and regret that the limited time I have been able to spend with you has not yielded sufficient results as to ensure that you would be nursing a severe hangover this morning. If only I, as your dogfather and designated bad influence, could have imparted upon you a respectable appreciation of mischief and alcohol. Alas!
I must also apologise for failing to make my promised appearance last night at the ball. I had every intention and a rather solid plan to gain entrance, but sadly it was not to be.
The beautiful young ambassador from Spain was primed to take me as her guest, and she even delighted in the knowledge that it would annoy the British ministry. However, it turns out that my fluency in French, Latin, Russian, and passable skill in German, Norwegian and Italian did not enable me to learn Spanish as quickly as anticipated. I am not entirely certain what I said to upset the ambassador but apparently it was bad enough to justify ejecting me from her moving vehicle.
I may just be rusty after my prolonged stint without dating.
Speaking of dry spells, I have persuaded my resident wolf to cut back on his drinking in the New Year. My cause was greatly aided by the vicious mixture of a hangover and recovering from his last full moon. It's not the first time those two states have mixed (there are few things in this wide world funnier than a drunk werewolf) but he's becoming an old man and he's not as hardy as he used to be.
Moony is otherwise well and sends his regards between groans. He's been job hunting again (another reason he has agreed to sober up) but no bites yet.
Thank you for your lovely card yesterday. Please don't worry about sending me a gift, I have everything I need. And as a full-blown adult, I can buy whatever else I want, as you well know.
I'm looking forward to reading about your evening in the Daily Prophet, but please send me your version when you have a chance. Half the fun is comparing the stories.
Yours until you find a spell to get rid of me,
Padfoot'
"Hmph!" Hermione loudly harrumphed, setting the paper down after she speedily read the most important articles. "It could have been worse, I suppose."
Harry snatched the paper up again before Hermione started re-reading the same articles at a more leisurely pace or began on the remaining less interesting ones.
He chuckled when he read about Gaara and Luna's burning romance, but upon sitting up straight and looking over heads, he couldn't spot scarlet spikes. It was a shame; he wanted to see Gaara blush when he read about himself.
Harry could see why Hermione seemed to think this was an improvement upon previous publications featuring them. Apparently, compared to the new darling couple Gaara and Luna, the relationship between Harry and Hermione had cooled considerably. Whereas Luna and Gaara had stayed on to dance with each other, Harry and Hermione had left the dance floor quickly and had even switched partners at one point.
There was an entire article devoted to analysing the probable causing of strife in their fictitious relationship.
"I must say, Herm, if you've really fallen out of love with me because of my new scars, I may think less of you." Harry snorted. He had taken to making light of his own injury recently but his friends knew well enough to leave that to him as any attempt at joining in was liable to make him feel bad.
"That's not funny, Harry!" Hermione scolded him. She didn't appreciate being called shallow, even as a joke, but more importantly she didn't want someone overhearing and passing it along to the press.
"Don't know what either of you have to complain about." Ron sulked. He was a little bitter that both of his friends were now literally world-famous and he wasn't even a footnote.
"How would you feel if everyone was telling lies about you in the papers, Ron?" Hermione demanded. He should have known better, really, Harry thought. The press had been a sore subject for Hermione for months now.
"Be nice if they mentioned me, is all I was saying…" Ron sulked.
"It's not worth it. Trust me on that." Harry said distractedly, glancing up from a piece of parchment on which he was busy writing.
"Harry's right." Hermione agreed before she noticed what Harry was doing. "Harry, are you writing back to Sirius?"
"Yeah. No time like the present." Harry said.
"Oh! You should have waited until you got back to the tower!" Hermione said with a little gasp. "You're getting baked beans on the parchment."
Harry noticed a corner was indeed resting in a puddle of tomato sauce. "Sirius won't care." He said.
"That's not the point!"
"You're going to have to help us out here, Herm. What is the point?" Ron said with a smirk.
Harry silently thanked Ron for distracting Hermione as she started on a rant about the importance of proper standards and respect for the convention of letter writing while he finished writing.
'Dear Padfoot,
Sorry about the baked bean juice on the corner. I put it there to mess with Hermione and she'll notice any second.
Also sorry to hear about the Spanish ambassador. If I remember correctly, doesn't Professor Lupin speak Spanish? Couldn't you have asked him for tips? Or, if you did, you may want to ease up on teasing him before you ask him for another favour.
Last night was fine but it was too stuffy to be fun. I don't think you missed out by not going.
The student ball was much better than the other one. My dancing didn't miraculously improve following my last letter but I don't think I stepped on Hermione's toes this time at least. It was much harder with hundreds of people watching us but the paper doesn't have more than one article about it, so my dancing couldn't have beenthat bad.
I think I talked to everyone at the Ministry last night. Actually - I listened to everyone at the Ministry last night. No one seemed to care if I had anything to say. Reminded me of when I first came to the Wizarding World and everyone wanted to talk to the 'boy who lived'. I haven't missed it.
I didn't realise until Herm told me but Gaara scarpered hours before the rest of us got to come home. Him and Luna asked Dumbledore and they got to leave early. I would be angry if I weren't so jealous. I wish I thought of trying that.
The ball was exhausting really. You warned me these society things are hard work but I thought you were joking! It was only because Fleur Delacour rescued me that I got to sit down for a bit in the middle. I've told you how beautiful she is but she's also really nice. I know she's part Veela but she's always so nice to me that I think I might have been in with a shot if she weren't with someone else and I wasn't with Hermione.
[Harry scratched out another paragraph in which he subsequently realised he had been rambling about Fleur.]
I've not got anything planned for today so I might go flying after breakfast with Ron. Hermione doesn't like flying that much so she'll probably do homework. Yesterday Ron actually had to hide her Potions homework to stop her adding another six inches to her essay!
Anyway, I'm running out of parchment now so I'll finish.
Looking forward to doing Christmas properly with you next year,,
Harry
P.s. Before I forget. Thanks for the bowtie. I owe you for that one.'
Harry had every intention of seeking retribution against Sirius for his prank. That said, truthfully, Harry had stashed his stag heads bowtie in the same part of his trunk as his other precious mementos.
The bottom of the letter was cramped where he had run out of room but after dabbing the bean sauce stain with his napkin, he felt it was ready to send. He'd stop by the owlery and give Hedwig a treat. Ever since Sirius had come into his life, Harry's owl had been getting a lot more work than she used to have. She put up with it admirably but he knew better than to approach without bacon or something else to keep her on side.
OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
The uplift in his mood that Draco had hoped would manifest later in the day failed to materialise even as the Malfoy Ball approached. In fact, Draco was downright miserable as the sun set and he returned to his room to get changed.
He had spent a chunk of the afternoon on his least enjoyed pastime: hunting for his missing roommate. These days, when Gaara disappeared for a day or two, he didn't normally bother since it was almost always futile, but he couldn't concentrate on anything leisurely or productive, so instead he hiked all over the poxy castle looking for Gaara.
He even walked out in the forest to check the bloody dog!
Gaara was in none of his usual haunts, including the Gryffindor Tower, he was assured.
Draco wanted the truth behind the truth he had uncovered the night before, but it seemed he would have to wait a couple of days until Gaara tired of sleeping in abandoned classrooms, or wherever he holed up.
Draco tried to muster up some enthusiasm when he pulled out his second set of new robes. This set was just as spectacular as his other set, but they had been owled over a few days before the Yule Ball. They had been intended to be used for the Malfoy Ball or for the Yule Ball if Sirius failed to appear with his designated Yule Ball robes.
It had been Narcissa's idea. Even if she had faith that Sirius knew better than to pull one of his silly pranks against her son on such an important day, she and Lucius hadn't gotten to where they were by trusting the whims of her relatives.
Draco dressed himself and looked around the gloomy room. Gaara had not snuck in during the day, as far as he could tell, and he clearly had no intention of showing up in time to come to the Malfoy Ball.
Draco set Gaara's robes out on his bed so he could dress quickly if he came in late. But, when Draco was risking being late, he knew Gaara was definitely not coming.
He searched around the Slytherin common room as he exited in case Gaara was just coming in but there was no sign of him there either.
By the time Draco had reached Snape's chambers to use his private floo, he was telling himself that this was for the best. He was angry with Gaara too for being such a baby.
Also… was Gaara safe to be around? Was he safe to bring in front of his parents?
Draco had special permission to leave the castle for his parents' ball, as did a number of others, but only he had been granted the privilege of using Snape's fireplace. When he had asked permission to attend, it had to be granted by both his Head of House as well as the Headmaster. And Dumbledore had jumped to offer Snape's nearby fireplace for Draco and the other Slytherins to use.
Snape had very resentfully agreed to allow Draco to use it, since he was also going to be attending the Ball, but he had refused to allow everyone else to traipse through his private quarters.
If Gaara had shown up, Draco had planned to just go to the Headmaster's office instead.
Snape took one look at him, presumably to ensure he had indeed arrived alone, and then guided him through a depressingly austere living space.
Knowing that Snape had been teaching at Hogwarts for over a decade and he had been stuck in the same rooms for all of that time, it truly was sad to see what his personal life entailed. Draco would mention it covertly to his father the next time they were alone so something could be done.
Hatred of Gaara aside, Snape was still one of Draco's favourite teachers and a loyal supporter of his father's agenda. Even if that wasn't Draco's own cause anymore…
…hatred of Gaara…
"Sir?" Draco looked up at Snape after taking a handful of floo powder.
"What is it, Draco?" Snape looked aggrieved for Draco to be in his home for a second longer than necessary.
"My apologies for the impertinence, but I feel I need to ask…" Draco took a small step backwards. "Why do you dislike Gaara so much?"
Snape's eyes widened, the man clearly not having expected such a question from Draco.
"Why- of all the insolence!" Snape's hand twitched towards his wand and while Draco didn't think the man would actually try to hurt him, he didn't want to risk something damaging or dirtying his robes, so he took one more step backwards quickly into the fire after throwing the powder.
"Malfoy Manor!" Draco disappeared before he could find out how upset he had made Snape with his prying.
He would be taking the floo back to Dumbledore's office after all.
Draco appeared in his home with barely a stumble but he still straightened himself up as quickly as possible, as if his father wouldn't notice.
Lucius frowned at Draco's lack of composure but didn't mention it.
"Good evening, sweetheart." Narcissa said warmly, standing a respectable distance away. She whipped out her wand and removed every speck of ash from her son's exquisite robes.
"As dearly as I'm sure we would all care to catch up properly, with you being trapped in the school during the break as you are, but the duties of hosts sadly do not abate, no matter the ridiculous rules imposed by our government." Lucius said.
"Of course, father." Draco said.
"Will Gaara be joining with the other guests?" Narcissa asked. She had expected her son's close friend to show up entirely too early, along with their son.
Draco clenched his fist. "I'm sorry to report that Gaara can't join us this evening. He's been taken terribly ill and couldn't leave the room. He sends his sincere regrets."
"He sends his regrets but not an owl?" Lucius's nostrils flared. Such a discourtesy to his family, which had been so generous to a nameless nobody like Gaara, was nothing short of a grievous insult.
"Oh my, that must be quite the illness that's he's come down with so suddenly. Please pass along our best wishes for his equally speedy recovery when you go back." Narcissa said smoothly. However, based on her words, Draco could tell he was in hot water with both of his parents for the obvious lie.
He had tried to think of something more convincing but nothing came to mind. And while he did consider sending an owl on Gaara's behalf, his mother knew Gaara's handwriting and she would spot a forgery a mile off.
So, instead he would have to try and claw his way back into their good graces for half the night. Luckily, it would only take half the night since his father was probably glad Gaara was absent and his mother might be a touch concerned about whatever the real reason might be.
While his father and mother went to deal with an issue with the caterers and then begin to get ready themselves, Draco went to inspect the ballroom to ensure everything was proceeding according to the Malfoy standards.
When he spotted that the cutlery for all of the tables wasn't properly aligned with the bottom of the plate and the serviette, he was glad he wasn't being observed by his judgemental roommate. He tore the servers a new one for the insult to his family's dignity and fired one of them.
Where were these people trained!?
He relayed the story to his mother when she reappeared and while she approved of his taking charge in her absence, she felt he had been too generous in only firing one of the waiting staff. They always hired more than they needed for this very reason: weeding out the untrained and unworthy.
"Truly a shame, but at least this mysterious illness didn't prevent Gaara from a lively attendance at the Yule Ball last night." Narcissa said when they stood away to watch the terrified waiters and waitresses correcting their mistakes.
"Yes, regrettable but perhaps related. All of that rich food probably didn't agree with Gaara." Draco said. Of course, they both knew he was lying, and they both knew the other knew. But the pretence had to be maintained now.
"I recall, he didn't have any stomach for the finer foods when he stayed with us last year. A shame really. Is it a consequence of his upbringing?"
Draco fought to stop his eyebrow from adopting an impertinent arch. His mother had taken an interest in Gaara but had always remained aloof, not prying into Gaara's past like so many others tried. Apparently she was now curious.
Draco hid his alarm remarkably well. However, Narcissa was Draco's mother and could tell what her son was thinking before he himself knew it.
"I suppose so. He doesn't talk much about where he comes from." Draco said, watching a waitress adjust a glass but waiting an extra few seconds to see if she noticed her own mistake before calling her out. She did.
"So he has confided some details, then?" Narcissa said.
"A few, here and there. You've spoken with him so you know what he's like."
"Yes, he showed remarkable poise and reserve for someone so foreign. Of course, when he stayed here, he couldn't talk at all. And I haven't had the opportunity to talk with him at length since then."
"Yes, well, he's not much more talkative now that he can speak." Draco said.
"How did he come to that miraculous recovery, if I might ask?" Narcissa ventured.
"I'm not entirely certain myself. Perhaps an extension of his own culture's magical peculiarity delayed the effectiveness of the potions Madame Pomfrey gave him."
"And what culture is that?" Narcissa asked.
"I couldn't say." Draco demurred. He was grateful the fish that had arrived late had 'a smell' or else his father might have also been present for the interrogation. Though, thinking again, it was odd that his mother had chosen a moment when his father was out of the room to conduct her questioning.
"A pity. I was always so fond of geography and magical anthropology at school." Narcissa said, casting a spell to straighten a fork that had just been knocked askew by a server adjusting one of the plates. The server nearly dropped a wine glass in his shock before he continued his work.
"I prefer the more practical lessons." Draco said, mulling over how dull he had found the magical anthropology lessons he had experienced.
"Please, Draco, talking about practicality like that makes you sound common." Narcissa gently chided him.
"Of course, mother." Draco agreed, cursing his slip. He had briefly forgotten he was talking to his mother and not an equal at school. As if he wasn't in enough trouble already.
"Oh, dear, all this incompetence and I nearly lost track of the time. I must go and finish getting ready, darling."
"Yes, mother." Draco said absently.
"And while I'm away, perhaps do something about your hair, Draco. It's askew." Narcissa said.
Trying not to exhibit his panic, Draco walked perfectly calmly to the nearest reflective surface to see how bad it was.
His carefully slicked-back hair was coming loose and a strand had even fallen beside his face. Draco's hand shot up and he carefully smoothed the stray hair back into place while he considered where in the mansion he would fine the closest comb or hairbrush.
The servers breathed a sigh of relief when the remaining Malfoy stepped out of the ballroom. The high-society snobs might pay the best but they were also terrifying to work for.
When the party got going, the food was well-made and the dancing graceful, but Draco had no appetite for either. He only ate enough to avoid a lecture from his mother about the distinction between being trim and looking malnourished. And Draco only asked enough girls to dance to fulfil his duty as an eligible bachelor.
His dance partners had the good manners to avoid enquiring about his dulled mood and his perfunctory, reactive conversation. The gossips dotted around the ball did discuss the youngest Malfoy's lack of verve, but fortunately his age afforded him allowances for mood swings.
His parents almost certainly wouldn't be quite so understanding, especially if he didn't admit to the real reason his best friend and shadow had rudely failed to attend the gala. Speaking of his mother and father…
Draco spotted his mother doing the rounds, so he made sure to move in the same direction so there was always a host in sight for the guests. This movement also allowed him to avoid Professor Snape, who had shown up for the party and was stalking about the place looking as happy to be at a party as… well, as Professor Snape in the midst of a party.
As he moved, Draco took a few moments to spot his father, who also performing hosting duties but with a narrower focus. All through the evening, Draco had noticed a congregation of old families to the side of the hall, but the most notable part was that his father wasn't at the centre of the circle.
Usually the host of Death Eaters, both convicted and suspected but never proven, would gather around his father and hang off his every word. If Draco had thought before that his father might have lost some of his popularity amongst the blood purists, this was proof positive that the Malfoy family had lost its standing with the racists and bigots.
Once upon a time, Draco would have been rushing to his father's side to help him contrive a plan to regain their status atop that particular substrata of society. Now, Draco watched his proud father casually stalking around the edges of the gathering and believed they were better off away from those people. Not that his father wouldn't do everything within his means to get back in.
Case in point, Draco paused his own patrolling of the hall to watch as his father carefully manoeuvred into the dense crowd, only for hushed, conspiratorial conversations to stop. Apparently Lucius could not be trusted with whatever chaos the followers of the absent Dark Lord were planning.
Draco did a double-take so hard he felt his neck ache when he spotted who had supplanted his father's place at the centre of the circle. It was none other than Vincent Crabbe Snr., holding court like he hadn't been a tolerated footnote in the Death Eater ranks until very recently. Draco glanced around and saw Vincent Crabbe Jnr., his old henchman, also surrounded by peers.
The platinum blond wondered what genie had granted the Crabbe clan's wish to make them popular. It couldn't have been a result of their oratory skills since Crabbe had never uttered an articulate syllable in the years Draco had known him.
The thought of Crabbe immediately conjured the thought of Goyle, but Draco didn't spot either the younger or the older Goyle males in the ballroom. Maybe Crabbe's meteoric rise to popularity had finally shaken loose their friendship, which mostly seemed to be based on their mutual love of eating and bullying younger children.
The party did not last as long as in previous years, which Draco suspected was due to many of the attendees still languishing under the lingering effects of hangovers as well as general lethargy following the Ministry Yule Ball the night before. Even the Minister only made an appearance long enough to be seen at the fixture of the high society calendar before making a unimaginative excuse and leaving again on 'official business', which apparently required his wife to leave with him.
Rounding out his multiple failings as the child of the hosts, Draco didn't stay until the very end. The lingering party-goers, who did not have the good taste to leave at a more reasonable hour stayed on past midnight, and without his typical enjoyment of social occasions, Draco could not summon the energy to continue his duties so he asked his mother and father to forgive him for leaving.
"Oh, dear, I hope you aren't coming down with whatever sudden malady has afflicted Gaara." Narcissa said. "I will send an owl to Madam Pomfrey in the morning to ensure she checks in on you."
Draco recognised the threat for what it was.
"Thank you for your concern, mother. I'm sure a good night's sleep is all I will need, but I will pass along your best wishes for Gaara."
"From both of us." Lucius chimed in, staring down at his son.
"Of course, father."
"Well, you had best be off to bed, then, Draco." Lucius said conclusively. Draco was already in their bad books because of his attitude and lie earlier, but now that his father had been humiliated amongst his fellow Death Eaters, he would be in a particularly sour mood.
Draco kissed his mother's cheeks and shook his father's hand and stepped back into the floo, calling for the Headmaster's office. There was nobody there to greet him but he knew there would be extensive monitoring charms on the room so he left without so much as glancing at the desk.
On his way down to the Dungeons, Draco starting thinking up some way he could start earning his way back into his parents' good graces. It would be an uphill struggle. He would start with a grovelling letter in the morning and go from there. His mother would come around sooner or later but his father could hold a grudge much longer.
Actually, that wasn't true. Narcissa was renowned for bearing grudges that spanned decades, but she would forgive her precious baby boy within a month. Draco chuckled, he might have drifted away from the darker sides of Slytherin life but he was still a master manipulator.
Draco passed by several Slytherins still lingering in the common room. Some had returned from his parents' ball and gave him respectful nods, others had not been invited and apparently felt resentful. As if they had any right to attend a Malfoy party. He didn't even know their names.
Ignoring the nobodies, Draco returned to his room but all he found inside was cold emptiness, the same feeling he got when he entered his bedroom at Malfoy manor in the summer after the school year finished. Draco sat on his bed and pulled off his dancing shoes, dropping them on the floor. He would tidy them up later, along with the tie he had dropped on his desk as he walked into the room.
Draco was about fall back on his bed but he caught himself at the last second. The second his head fell back, he would have passed out, he knew. He leaned forward and leveraged himself back onto his aching feet. He looked to his shoes strewn about the floor and the tie on the desk. He couldn't bring himself to care.
The platinum blond stumbled to the cupboard to hang up his robes. He couldn't live with himself if he didn't prevent his beautiful robes from getting creases. Sure, the cleaner could straighten them out but Draco would always know a crease had been there.
Draco was only concerned with safeguarding his precious clothes, but if he happened to glance in Gaara's drawers, it was just a coincidence. A slip of the hand and a wandering eye.
If Draco happened to ascertain that some of Gaara's clothes seemed to be missing, it wasn't because he was snooping. Draco didn't do that unless it was imperative.
It had been imperative that he used the Dreamwalker potion, and this wasn't that.
It had been necessary.
It had.
Draco shook his head and went back to his bed.
There were probably other things he should be doing, including writing the first of the letters of apology to his parents, but he was simply too tired in that moment. He closed his eyes and…
Gaara was definitely overreacting. And it was Gaara who had some big secret that he was keeping from his best friend. Draco was the one who should be upset. But unlike that redheaded baby, Draco didn't just run off and sulk every time he was upset.
Gaara was probably hiding in an abandoned classroom. There were probably one or two dozen unused classrooms in the castle, and a few offices. Not to mention supply cupboards and the secret rooms everyone gossiped about.
Merlin forbid Gaara found his way into the Chamber of Secrets. Aside from Potter, there would be no way to get him back out…
Bloody Potter.
Bloody Gaara.
It wasn't Draco's fault. He had to know the truth. He still needed to know what he had seen.
He…
Draco's eyes drifted open. The room was pitch black and silent and he was extremely tired, but he couldn't seem to fall asleep. He looked inside his bedside cabinet but he didn't have any Dreamless Sleep left over. He couldn't bring himself to go and ask Madam Pomfrey.
For one, she might start asking difficult questions, and if anyone found out he was taking it, they might start spreading rumours as to why.
No, he would brew some himself in the morning when he could sneak into the laboratory.
In the meantime, he'd better get started on his letter. He had many hours until the sun rose and he hoped it would give him enough time to come up with a good enough excuse for why Gaara had not and would not be sending them his own written apology.
OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
It only took a couple of days for the Hogwarts rumour mill to catch up with events. It had been so focused on the many fascinating comings and goings of the Yule Ball itself that nobody had really noticed anything happening afterwards. But when they did, suddenly Gaara was the topic of many conversations again.
Draco was characteristically tight-lipped about everything, so all anyone knew was that Gaara was even more absent than usual and that when he was seen, it wasn't with Draco. A similar fascination had arisen as a result of whatever schism had occurred between Crabbe and Goyle, but this had the added intrigue of a Champion being involved.
Draco's refusal to confirm or deny the entirely private matter only served to convince everyone that he and Gaara were indeed fighting over something. Of course, rumours abounded as to the nature and content of their dispute, but without any evidence, the rampant conjecture didn't last long.
It was only after Draco received an owl from his cousin that he understood how far reaching the gossip had become. He didn't expect it took much to get Potter to send an owl to his godfather, but the blond still started thinking up ways to get back at scar-head for telling on him to an adult.
He settled on visiting the House Elves and informing one of them that Potter had been in an unfortunate accident that left him four inches shorter. As such, all of his trousers and robes would need shortening by a few inches. When they questioned the sincerity of a Slytherin running an errand for a Gryffindor, since the elves weren't born yesterday, Draco bemoaned that Potter would surely trip, fall and die on the shifting Hogwarts staircases because the House Elves had refused a perfectly reasonable request.
It was on his way back from that satisfying errand that Draco ran into Professor Snape. The morning after the Malfoy ball, Draco had approached his once favourite professor to offer his sincere apologies for his insolence on the night of the ball. The Potions master had refused to acknowledge his contrition and instead docked points from Slytherin for some imagined infraction.
After that encounter, Snape had stopped glaring at Draco during dinner so the blond believed it had successfully restored the status quo.
That said, when the man stormed up to him a few days after, Draco did briefly glance around to see if there were any escape routes he might use nonchalantly.
"Draco." Snape greeted him.
"Hello, Professor." Draco waited before saying anything else. While he seemed to be back on an even keel with Snape, he would be walking on eggshells for a few weeks at least.
"Tell Gaara that Professor Dumbledore wishes to talk to him." Snape said before turning to leave. He felt no obligation to provide any added explanation that Dumbledore wanted to discuss Hagrid's three-headed mutt.
"Uh…" Every instinct in Draco's cowardly body was telling him to just let Snape on his way, but his pragmatist mind couldn't ignore the inevitable long-term consequences of failing to pass along the message. "Actually, professor, sir, I don't know where Gaara is…"
Snape paused and looked back at him with a look like Draco was some first-year Hufflepuff.
"Then tell him when you see him."
Before Snape could recommence his exit, Draco spoke again. "I haven't seen him in a couple days, sir."
Snape glared at him again. "Find him."
Draco swallowed the lump in his throat. "Yes, sir."
"Good." Snape turned to leave but Draco followed alongside since they were going in the same direction.
"I've already finished my homework for the break."
Snape didn't comment.
"I started reading a few different books for some extra learning."
Still Snape did not react.
"I even read about a potion called 'Dreamwalker' or something like that." Draco said as casually as his years in Slytherin and decade before in the Malfoy household allowed.
Finally, Snape deigned to speak. "You would do well to put that potion out your mind, Draco."
"Yes, sir. Is that because it's so advanced or because of its effects?"
"Both." Snape said, patiently. "But chiefly because the act of brewing a drop of it is enough to earn you a year in Azkaban. Two years if you are found to have used it."
Draco said something along the lines of, 'wow, I definitely won't try it', but he couldn't later recall. His blood had turned to ice and that was taking up the bulk of his attention.
While they continued to walk, now in a silence that Snape could appreciate, Draco tried to recall if any of the ingredients he ordered under his own name for the potion would be on any watch lists.
Probably not. And half of the ingredients had come from shops that would be in much more trouble than him if they disclosed their sales records to the Ministry.
Still, Draco scratched whatever had been on his immediate agenda and instead headed back to his room to dispose of whatever evidence might be there.
Fortunately, as he carried out armfuls of illicit potions ingredients, none of the Slytherins milling about the place gave him a second look. He wasn't even the first resident to dispose of incriminating evidence that morning.
OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
Luna skipped into the Library, stopping to walk only for the three steps that would be observed by Madam. There was nothing Luna liked doing more than spending a Saturday in the school library.
Except, perhaps, for dancing. She had very much enjoyed that lately.
There were other Ravenclaws that she knew she would find amongst the books but she certainly didn't expect to see Draco there on a weekend.
"Draco, I didn't expect to see you here on a weekend." She said harmlessly, smiling down at him where he sat surrounded by books.
"Well, I didn't expect…" He started to say something in a snarl but he paused and then thought again. Based on the tone, Luna guessed whatever would have come next would have brought at least a tear to her eye. Draco had a talent for saying hurtful things, but he was also getting better at resisting that impulse.
At least when it was directed at her. He still seemed to delight in tormenting others, but he seemed to be directing it a bit more these days, which was personal growth if ever she'd seen it.
"What are you doing here, Lovegood?"
"Looking for a book." She said, glancing around, considering where to start.
"You're probably in the right place." Draco said, turning his attention back to his reading.
"What are you reading today?" Luna asked, unable to resist the impolite act of checking out someone else's stack of books. Amongst her housemates, this was seen as poor manners. A person's bibliography could be an intensely private affair.
"None of your business, Lovegood." Draco said half-heartedly. He didn't really care enough about her opinion to try and stop her from looking over the pile of books on muggle religion and demonology.
"These are unusual. I didn't know you were interested in muggle religions." Luna said.
"I'm not." Draco said, still reading.
"Oh, okay." Luna said. While she understood perfectly well the lure of research for the sake of research, even when she didn't care for the subject, she really hadn't pegged Draco for a like-mind.
Draco breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Luna start to drift away from the corner of his eye, and then his head snapped up and he said just loud enough to earn a harsh shush from two nearby Ravenclaws, "Lovegood."
"What is it, Draco?" She bounced back to him.
"What do you know about demons?" He asked.
Luna was the resident expert on (apparently) made-up creatures, so if anyone knew what he was looking for, it would be her. Granted, it wasn't exactly discrete, but she had already seen what he was reading and it wasn't like she had any friends to gossip about him to.
Well, one friend… But that friend surely already knew Draco would be looking into all things demon.
Luna tapped her chin. "Hmm. You'll need to be more specific. Almost every culture has its own stories of evil spirits and entities that could be called or translated into 'demon'. If you're interested in the Western depiction, it's not an area I know too much about."
Draco had already read a little about the devils of Christianity and he most certainly hadn't seen a red-skinned, horned humanoid with a forked tail inside Gaara's mind. Unfortunately, the altogether more terrifying beast inside of Gaara happened to bear a striking resemblance to the ridiculous form he took once a month, and Lovegood was one of the few people who would recognise the similarity if he tried to describing the demon to her.
"Look, if you don't know anything, just shove off, Lovegood." Draco said harshly, going back to his book.
Luna was used to Draco's toothless cruelty. It was a reflex, like a scared animal lashing out.
Or, at least, that was what she chose to believe when he spoke in such a mean way to her.
Instead, Luna sat down at the table and pulled out the book she was close to finishing.
Draco glared intensely at the girl who had the gall to ignore his command. He couldn't concentrate on his research when she was being so obtuse.
"What do you want, Lovegood?"
"I want to find out what happens at the end of this book. It's gripping." She said.
Draco glanced at the spine, sharing none of the silly Ravenclaw reservations about prying into someone else's reading habits. "You can't wait to find out how 'Behaviours of Animated Mushrooms and Fungi in the Americas' ends?"
"It's kept me guessing all the way through." Luna said, as if her endorsement might in any way convince Draco to borrow it after she was finished.
Draco waited for a few moments while looking at his book so it would seem like he was really reading and not that he was engaging her in a proper conversation, and then he asked his next question.
"So… have you seen him recently?"
"Who?" Luna asked, as if they had anyone else in common.
"Gaara, obviously."
"Oh, no, I haven't seen him either." Luna said, frowning. "I hope I didn't upset him." Her thoughts had drifted to her selfish behaviour at the Yule Ball more than occasionally since that night.
Draco's first instinct was to confirm that it was indeed all Luna's fault, but he knew that it wouldn't really make him feel better, neither the delusion nor Luna's misery, so he restrained himself.
"It's between Gaara and I. He's just gotten upset over nothing and is hiding like the big baby that he is." Draco said.
"What was the nothing?" Luna asked.
"That's not your business. It was just something for his own good and he took it completely the wrong way and now he's probably camping somewhere in the castle again. He'll be lucky if he doesn't make himself deathly sick from sleeping rough in this weather. Idiot."
"Hmm." Luna felt a bit better that it at least wasn't entirely her fault that Gaara was hiding. But now her Ravenclaw inclinations were driving her to want to know more about what happened between them.
"If you do see him, tell him he's behaving like a child and to show his face." Draco said, closing his book and standing up. "Oh, and also tell him Dumbledore wants to see him about something."
"Dumbledore?"
"Yes, Lovegood, he has white hair and a pointy hat." Draco hissed before pushing away from the table and wandering into the stacks of books.
Luna watched him leave and wondered if he would be back or if she should put his books on the trolley to be put back on the shelves. Luna rifled through the books to see if any peaked her interest. She picked two out of the pile and sat them next to her bag. If Draco didn't come back, she would be checking them out.
Luna picked her book back up and-
Ginny sat down heavily in Draco's vacant seat and looked at Luna like they had been in the middle of a chat and Luna was supposed to say something.
"Oh. Good morning, Ginny."
"So?" Ginny urged her.
Luna looked around to make doubly sure one of Ginny's other friends was nearby but apparently the non sequitur was directed at her.
"So what?"
Ginny groaned. "So, what's the scoop? What happened between Draco and Gaara?"
Oh, Ginny wanted to gossip. Luna wasn't a fan of gossip, generally, since so much of it tended to be hurtful to the individuals the gossip concerned. On the other hand, it was nice that recently people had been talking to her more.
With the exception of certain bullies who had taken to avoiding her like the plague, Luna had noticed people no longer stopped talking when she came near and some even talked directly to her.
"I'm not entirely certain what happened between Gaara and Draco, but I don't think they would like me to speculate."
"Ugh, boring." Ginny decried. "Fine. But can you at least share some of the juicy details from the Yule Ball?"
"The meals they served were very tasty." Luna disclosed.
"Of course they were! What else?"
"We did lots of dancing, which was nice."
"I saw that in the paper." Ginny huffed. "You and Gaara looked like you were very close." Ginny winked at her.
Based on the wink and her tone, Luna understood there was a double meaning. "Gaara was very gentlemanly."
"Wait!" Ginny's eyes lit up. "You don't think Malfoy saw those pictures of you and Gaara and got jealous and that's why they've had a fight!"
Luna considered it for a moment before she realised what Ginny was suggesting. "Oh, I
don't think Gaara is gay."
Ginny smirked. "Can you be sure?"
Luna thought in that moment that her friend might make a half-decent journalist one day.
"I don't believe Gaara thinks in those terms." Luna said.
"And what does that mean?" Ginny leaned in.
"It's not terribly important. But I don't think that's why Draco and Gaara are fighting, in any case." Luna said. "Also, I think Draco likes girls. He seemed to be very fond of Celeste."
Ginny still didn't seem convinced. "I heard when Malfoy tried to speak with that Celeste girl this morning, she threw a drink in his face." She had a big smile on her face, as if she somehow still resented the Malfoy family for her soul nearly being consumed by the Dark Lord two years ago.
"Oh dear. I hadn't heard about that." Luna said. Not that she was ever privy to even the juiciest school gossip unless Ginny told her or she witnessed it herself.
"Yes, I saw it myself." Ginny giggled, reliving the moment. "He walked up to her with a guilty look on his face and they said something to each other and she picked up someone's pumpkin juice and threw it in his face!"
Ginny cackled and while Luna supposed she could understand the sentiment, she had spent just enough time with Draco that she felt a little bad for him. Draco devoted a lot of his energy to pride, and such a humiliating spectacle would surely have been difficult for him, especially when he was already in the middle of an argument with Gaara.
That would explain why Draco had been spending his time in the library instead of the Slytherin dormitory.
"You might be right, though. That could have meant just about anything. I wouldn't expect someone like a Malfoy to be respectful of women." Ginny sneered in an ironically Malfoy-esque manner.
"He's never been disrespectful to me." Luna said before adding, "Not because I'm a girl, anyway."
Luna wondered what might have happened between Celeste and Draco. They had seemed remarkably suitable for each other at the Ball. It was hard to imagine Draco doing anything to upset her, like testing the bounds of propriety one night and then completely ignoring her for days afterwards like she was a common trollop.
"Just promise me you will tell me when you find out the truth." Ginny demanded.
"I can't promise that, Ginny. It could be a secret." Luna said.
Ginny sighed heavily. Trust a Ravenclaw to be completely honest, even about not being able to tell the truth.
"Oh, did I tell you what the twins did yesterday?"
"No, I don't believe so." Luna said cautiously. She welcomed the change of subject and liked Ginny's brothers, but the twins could sometimes display a callousness in their practical jokes that bordered on cruelty.
"Well, apparently they've decided that because they're dead when they go home in the summer, they might as well do whatever they want between then and now. And they're right. Mum's going to murder them." Ginny was smiling again. "Anyway, they've been gambling, pranking and slacking as much as they want recently and mum knows all about it.
"They even made a specially-warded box to store all of the howlers mum has been sending them. Yesterday, they thought it would be funny to prank some of the other Gryffindor boys, so they hid the box in the seventh-year boy's dorm room and rigged it to open in the middle of the night."
"That seems like it could back-fire." Luna commented.
"Oh, it did! Now those two morons are hiding somewhere while pretty much every other Gryffindor boy is out for their blood."
"All of them?"
"Howlers get louder the longer they are ignored. Mum's been sending them for months, so when that box opened last night, it woke up the whole boy's dorm." Ginny said, grimly. "I've even had first-years trying to ask me where they are, as if I know."
Luna had noticed a lot of Gryffindors out and about that morning on her way to the Library.
"Oh my. I hope they won't be hurt."
"Oh, I'm sure someone will track them down sooner or later and they'll get what's coming to them. It was stupid, more than anything. If you annoy the people you live with, of course they are going to make your life hell. It's like when they used to annoy Bill or Charlie. Except this time mum won't be there to stop the revenge after a black eye or two."
Ginny looked a little aggrieved and Luna wondered if some of the ruckus had managed to escape the privacy wards separating the boys and girls dorms last night.
The girls continued to chat away the morning, branching off into talk of schoolwork, sports and finally Luna's latest theory about the 'real' reason so much of Australia was uninhabited.
For all of Ginny's typical concern about her image in the eyes of her peers, there was another good reason that she didn't hang out with Luna more. She had always been undeniably strange.
"Would you look at the time. I need to get to the owlery before it closes so I can let mum know what the twins did now." Ginny said.
"It was nice speaking, Ginny." Luna said.
"Yes, it's great. Let's catch up again soon."
Luna watched one of her best friends leave and then looked around to try and find the clock Ginny had been referencing.
Luna felt a little bad that she didn't send owls to her father more often. She didn't even know the owlery had a closing time…
OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
"I had wondered when you might eventually reappear." Dumbledore said. "In all my many years, I don't recall if I have ever had a student with such little regard for the school rules pertaining to sleeping arrangements."
If Gaara felt concerned that he was being scolded by the Headmaster and Supreme Mugwump, he didn't show it. By now, Albus expected as much.
"I asked to speak to you several days ago."
"I didn't get the message." Gaara could guess who might have been enlisted to pass along such a message so it was no wonder he hadn't heard.
"If you didn't receive my message, what brings you here today?"
"I need to know about the progress you have made."
"My progress…" Dumbledore was sat behind his desk, which many people correctly believed was a move he used to maintain power in conversations held in his office. However, what they underestimated was the secondary use of the desk, allowing him to sit through long conversations without his ancient knees giving out on him. In the very near future, he would be investing in a spectacularly decorated walking stuck or staff to help him move around.
"Might I be so bold as to enquire if your sudden eagerness to return home might be related to the reason my message didn't reach you?" Even if Albus wasn't as attuned to the gossip coursing through the castle as he used to be, he had noticed the rift between two of the most notable Slytherins in a generation.
"It's not your concern."
"That's where you are quite mistaken, my boy. It might not strictly be my business, but it is certainly my concern if one of my students is unhappy. I'm sorry to say that I may not have the power, magical or otherwise, to remedy that unhappiness. But I would like to try, if you would confide in me."
"That isn't why I am here."
Dumbledore moved on without revealing his disappointment. Gaara had been such a good influence on the Malfoy child, it had been nothing short of miraculous, the change in one who had been so deep in the trap of blood-purist ideology. It made Albus hopeful that any child, no matter their parentage, might be turned off from that hate-filled path.
With the recent stirrings in the Dark, if Gaara and Draco parted ways permanently, Albus feared Draco might succumb to those same malicious influences. Particularly considering the sinister topics the boy had chosen to research recently.
Dumbledore didn't monitor the entire school's reading habits, but some subjects did make their way to his notice. Demons were fictional, as far as he knew, but a number of unpleasant figures in history had devoted their time to researching them and Albus was very keen to prevent the boy from following in their dubious footsteps.
Not to mention, for many decades and centuries, Horcruxes had been considered fictional too.
Albus intended to keep a close eye on Draco's reading in the coming weeks, just as a precaution. Most likely, the boy had heard the word and thought it sounded interesting. Nonetheless…
"It is quite fortuitous that you came to see me just when I had wanted to see you about the very same matter." Dumbledore said, gesturing for Gaara to take a seat.
"You did not want anyone to know we were working together."
"Yes?" Albus wasn't sure where this was coming from.
"And you asked others to pass along messages."
"Oh, I see." Albus said. "You are right, it was less cautious than I would normally care to be. However, we can afford some contact like this without arousing undue suspicion." Albus didn't mention that it helped that Gaara had scored so poorly on the First Task that most people wouldn't jump to assume he was being given some sort of unfair advantage.
"As far as anyone else will know, I am explaining to you the dangers of magical creatures like Cerberuses and telling you off for stealing from the school kitchens to feed the dog."
"And the real reason?" Gaara was impatient to hear what progress had been made.
"Before that, I must indeed warn you that we will not accept any more thefts. I understand you have been told this before but I will give you the benefit of the doubt that the message might have been lost somewhere along the way. Know this: my earlier warning was not idle, I will have the creature removed from the grounds and sent somewhere safe but distant if your disregard for school rules persists. Do you understand?"
Gaara glared and they both knew this was tantamount to a nuclear option.
"Say what you intend to say." Gaara was running on a week of no sleep and bad feelings so a scolding was not appreciated.
"Very well. I will, as they say, cut to the chase. I believe I have found a way to send you home. We will need to test my theory, but I am confident it will have the desired effect."
"What is the method?"
"Forgive me, Gaara, but I will need to hold you to our arrangement. There are two more Tasks in the Tournament. If you continue to participate, and you win the Tournament, I will tell you what I have discovered."
Gaara was all too used to being treated as a tool by the adults in his life, so this didn't come as a surprise. He would have been shocked if the old man had changed his mind and handed over the solution to Gaara's problem.
"Your participation in the Tournament is more important than ever after what transpired in the First Task. I was informed a few days ago that the Ministry of Magic has finished its initial investigation into the poisoning of Mr Potter's dragon. I won't tire both of us by recounting all of the details, but the Ministry has concluded that it was perpetrated by parties unknown."
"Not much of a conclusion."
"Sadly, this was to be expected. I'm sure they have their suspicions about the truth behind the sabotage, but they aren't willing to make a public announcement. This inaction does serve to remind us that often we can only rely on those we have taken into our confidence to offer aid in dark times. And we are facing dark times indeed."
"I will continue to play my role. How do I know you will fulfil your end?" Gaara might have only appeared in this world a year and a half ago but he wasn't born then, so he knew he couldn't just take a man like Dumbledore at his word.
Dumbledore cast his eyes to his desk to see if there were any confections he could. Nothing. He sighed and made a note with a bejewelled pen given to him by the prince of a country that no longer existed to order more Sherbet Lemons. "I intend to uphold my end of our deal because I fear I must."
Dumbledore breathed deep.
"I don't claim to understand from where you abilities stem, nor, for that matter, what manner of ability originally cast you through dimensions. However, what I can say is that, whatever it was, it is not magic. It may act similarly to magic, enough so that you are able to practice our craft, but your abilities… clash with our magic. Magic has a way of acting around other magics, like liquids of different densities that may pool together and yet retain their separate natures. Your abiltities-"
"Chakra."
"Yes, your chakra, disrupts magic. It confounds even the simplest charms. Hence your inability to cast spells without the utmost care. And, of course, this is not to mention your ability to wage battle against dementors, who are more or less invulnerable to most magic that isn't specifically designed to fight against them. I heard that your magic, when consumed by a dementor on the Hogwarts Express, turned it to dust. Poisoning, perhaps.
"But this is all a point of interest, not the crux of the matter. Your arrival in this world, as climactic as it has been, was never foreseen. Prophets and seers across the world and no one has ever predicted your arrival. Never even predicted the possibility for your arrival or the appearance of someone similar."
"Not everything can be predicted." Gaara remarked.
"Perhaps, but your arrival has impacted other events. I won't trouble you with everything I have been told, but suffice to say that there are rumours that the Department of Mysteries is investigating the veracity of no fewer than a dozen seers as, from the summer before last, many of their prophecies have failed to occur as predicted. And it's not just your actions or presence interfering with pre-established events, either; you have caused ripples throughout this world, through our magic, that are changing more than we can see or determine."
"Is this a problem?"
"I'm sure it's causing no end of headaches and late nights amongst certain groups, but otherwise, I can't be sure. My fervent hope is that you being here is a sign that prophecies of the past can be disregarded and new options are open to us. Your appearance may herald new possibilities in an otherwise bleak future. The prophecy given to you last year may be proof of that. But I cannot blind you to the other possibility."
"That my coming to this world has not just disrupted your abilities to predict the future."
"Quite right. The true extent of magic and its nature is a mystery even to the wisest of our world. Not even Rowena Ravenclaw or Merlin are said to have fully understood magic in its purest form. The ripples from your arrival may have simply thrown off the seers' abilities, as mysterious as they are, but those ripples might be something else. They may be the first sign of cracks."
"I might be causing damage to this world."
"That is only one possibility. And it may be that the damage, whatever damage that may be, was caused by your arrival rather than your continuing presence. Without decades to study it and resources well beyond Hogwarts, we can never know for sure, and both of those things are outside of my reach."
"So what does this mean?"
"Something important, of that you can be sure, but I do not know what else. Nobody does. But you need to be aware. This is my assurance that I will do what I can to help you get home. We may need to send you out of this world as soon as possible."
"If I win the Tournament." Gaara added.
"I've probably brought this to your attention too soon, since we do not know anything for certain yet. But at my age, I am coming to the understanding that any secret I keep, even if purely by omission, may follow me into my grave if I do not take every due precaution to safeguard their passage to the relevant recipients."
"You dwell on your death a lot."
"When you reach my age, you will realise what it means to have more to remember than to look forward to. In my case, a great deal more."
"I doubt I will."
"To that end, we must continue to keep this all between us and whomever else knows already. I fear others, including some in positions of authority, may not take the cautious approach I favour. They may see your continuing presence here to be a real threat and seek the most direct course of action."
"My death."
"Possibly, yes. They may assume that your living in this world is continuing to harm it and seek to kill you to end that threat."
Gaara considered that. If chakra really was to blame for ongoing damage… "That will not solve the issue. My chakra will not dissipate with my death, it will be… released."
"Now there is a subject about which I would dearly like to hear more. But at another time, I think." Dumbledore sank back into his chair.
"Very well." Gaara stood to leave.
"One last thing before you leave, Gaara. How are your preparations for the Second Task going?" The subtext was clear: 'How are your preparations going without Draco to help?'
"Do you intend to provide me with an advantage?" Gaara asked.
"No, I think not. I merely wanted to ensure you will be safely prepared by the time the Task comes around."
"I will be fine." Gaara said plainly, turning around and walking to the door without asking for permission to leave.
"Gaara, please try not to worry about what we have discussed here. All this talk of damage is entirely hypothetical. Until we attempt to send you home, there is nothing for you to do about it, so put it out of your mind."
Gaara doubted that was possible so he left without saying anything further.
OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
Draco's idea of a fun and relaxing winter holiday did not involve searching the entirety of Hogwarts for one scrawny excuse for a dimensional transfer student, but needs must. When, after a few days, it became clear Gaara would not reappear of his own volition, Draco once again assumed the role of the adult in their friendship and commenced hunting him in earnest.
A few tracking spells had led to near misses but he still had not managed to catch a direct glimpse of his quarry for all of his searching.
He still needed to know the truth of Gaara's demonic possession, but, more than that, he wanted his friend back and he was willing to give the redhead the benefit of the doubt. He would hear him out and listen to why he had kept his secret and he wouldn't jump to any dangerous conclusions.
Once he explained his actions to Gaara, they could resolve the problem and go back to normal. As normal as they ever were.
However, no matter how much he searched, Draco couldn't catch Gaara. He had even tried leaving traps in places he was fairly sure Gaara had been holing up but after a couple of second years had tripped them instead, the mysterious prankster leaving traps around the castle had to stop or face the professors hunting him down.
Draco did not fancy being both the hunter and the hunted so he took down the remaining traps and resumed searching in the old fashioned way.
Sooner than he realised, the winter break was coming to an end. While this would make resolving the Gaara situation in a quiet manner harder to achieve, it would at least help him find the idiot. The professors were happy to turn a blind eye to Gaara sleeping (or not sleeping) all over the castle, but he knew they would not stand for him skipping lessons.
So, after the New Year, on the first day of lessons, Draco's eyes were peeled for that unique shade of red hair. It didn't take him at all long to spot him. Wherever Gaara had been hiding, it had not been doing him any favour. His eyes were darker than usual and his hair looked ragged, so he probably had not slept once since Christmas. For anyone else, that would bring them close to death, but Draco knew this was par for the course with Gaara.
He couldn't get much more of an impression about Gaara's state as every time he tried to get closer, Gaara would move away. In the hallways, the throngs of students kept getting in the way, which would have been merely inconvenient if Draco didn't know for a fact that Gaara was intentionally keeping people in between them to avoid Draco.
Draco was not willing to make more of a spectacle of himself so he didn't bother calling out to Gaara. He couldn't imagine that it would have worked anyway. Gaara was nothing short of an expert at ignoring people he didn't want to deal with. Gaara was also an expert at disappearing, so every time Draco tried to catch him after a lesson, he would be gone by the time Draco left the room.
Then, in most of the lessons, Draco would somehow arrive first and he would be ordered to sit next to someone by the professor before Gaara would appear and take whatever free seat remained.
This pattern repeated in Charms, but near the end of the lesson as everyone was writing up their notes from today's practical, Flitwick drifted over to Gaara to say something to him quietly, and then he approached Draco.
"I expect you and Gaara to arrive for your detention promptly after your last lessons today. If either of you are one minute late, I will award another night's detention." The tiny professor said before continuing his rounds.
"Yes sir." Draco mumbled. He had totally forgotten both he and Gaara had been assigned a week of detention with Professor Flitwick. Draco was still annoyed that he had been given an equal punishment when he had tried to prevent Gaara from strangling that girl. For all he knew, he had saved the girl's life.
Still, maybe this was exactly the opportunity he needed. Flitwick was not deranged enough to send them into the Dark Forest in the middle of night, so at least the detention would be safe enough, and it might afford him a moment or two to speak to Gaara.
For the rest of the day, he didn't both pursuing Gaara anymore. He knew where they would both be later so there was no point in wasting the energy.
After their last lesson of the day, Draco hurried back through the torch-lit corridors to the Charms classroom.
Inside, Flitwick was perched on his chair and scratching away with his quill, marking someone's work. Gaara was already there and writing something as well.
"Take a seat, Mr Malfoy. I want one thousand lines before you leave." He didn't look up from his marking but he pointed with his wand to his blackboard, where there was written, 'I will treat my fellow students with respect.'
Draco swallowed the protest at the tip of his tongue. He was guilty of many things, some might argue, but the cause of his punishment here couldn't possibly be due to a lack of respect, could it?
It didn't matter. He had more important things to worry about. He approached Gaara and took out his quill and a notebook.
"Two seats between you, Mr Malfoy." Flitwick said without looking up.
Draco didn't respond, he just stopped two seats along from Gaara and settled there. He needed to complete the lines as well as accomplishing his other mission, so he made a start on the thousand.
Draco had beautiful writing but he was also quite capable of employing that calligraphic skill quickly too. He speedily filled pages with flawless copies and he felt that was a safe enough number to take a break. He pretended to have a mild wrist cramp, and set down his quill.
Gaara hadn't so much as turned in Draco's direction since the platinum blond entered the room or sat next to him.
Draco leaned over a little, conscious that he would need to move slowly and talk quietly with Flitwick so close.
"Gaara." He whispered. No reaction. "Gaara."
Gaara's wide eyes glanced away from his own lines for a fraction of a second before snapping back.
"We need to talk." Draco said. Nothing. "We need to sort-"
"If I hear one more word, Mr Malfoy, I will add another day of detention to your tally. Focus on your task. Thank you."
And to think, many students thought Flitwick had a soft touch. Draco leaned back into his seat and resumed writing.
A little while after that, Flitwick tutted loudly at the piece of work he was marking and hopped down from his seat.
"I need to collect some materials from my office. I will leave the door open and I will be able to hear a pin drop in here. Do not take any liberties while my back is turned." He marched into the back room and as soon as he was out of sight, Draco hopped into the next seat so that there was just one between them. Gaara's shoulders hunched a little at the movement but he focussed on his writing.
"Look, I need to say this and I'm not going to get another change until our next detention tomorrow." Draco started. He knew that Flitwick wouldn't be able to hear them in the office but he didn't want to take any chances so he continued speaking softly.
"I don't hate you, and I'm not afraid of you. Whatever is happening inside of you isn't important. I just want to know what's going on."
Gaara had paused in his writing, his eyes fixed on the page, not reading, just staring.
"Just talk. We need to sort this out."
Gaara finally looked at him.
"You betrayed me. Lied to me. That isn't what friends do. I can't trust you." Gaara said evenly, as if he were talking about schoolwork or the weather. "We aren't friends. We are done."
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A/N: I'll try not to leave you hanging too long.
Please leave a review. After all these years, I still love reading them just as much as when I first started this story.