白虎 ロキ


Chapter Two:

漏れ鍋

The Leaky Cauldron


The first thing Dumbledore noticed about shinobi was that he was young. He knew that the shinobi had differing views when it came to what they considered to be the age of maturity, but nonetheless he had been expecting a more…middle-aged shinobi for what he believed to be their first excursion outside of their Barrier in the past century or so. But this…Gaara…looked like he could still be in school.

The next thing he noticed was the kid's—no, the shinobi's…unusual appearance. Red hair, dark circles that appeared unnatural, and that menacing-looking symbol on his forehead…he wondered what it meant. But this strangeness was to be expected, he supposed, from a nation that had been cut off from the rest of society for the past hundred years.

The third thing he noticed…was his expression. It looked…off, on such a cherubic, childlike face. It was unsettling, to say the least. These were not the eyes of a child; These were the eyes of someone who had suffered through horrible events, though war, and came out the other side still alive. These were the eyes of a survivor. And this cemented his belief that this "boy" was no child—this was a shinobi; a warrior.

When he spoke it was with a voice rough from lack of use, deeper and more gravelly than he would have expected of someone his size. Not much of a talker, then. "Dumbledore-sensei," he said, with the faintest hint of an accent.

"You must be Mr. Gaara," Dumbledore replied happily. "A pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise," the redhead responded softly. Very reserved. Polite, but not overly. Not very outgoing, one would think.

"Lady Tsunade and Mister Hatake told me a bit about you. They said you're from a different village?"

"That is correct. My village is Sunagakure," the small shinobi answered.

"Suna…that means 'sand,' yes? As in, the Village Hidden in the Sand?"

"Yes. Unlike Konoha, Suna is located in the desert, hence the name."

"Fascinating. But, more to the point, I'm told you don't have much knowledge regarding life on the other side of the Barrier?" Dumbledore had to admit, he was surprised. Considering the shinobi were the ones who'd put up the Barrier in the first place, he'd figured they would take advantage of it to come and go as they pleased…overall, he'd expected the "Barrier" to be more one-sided. But from what Tsunade has told him so far, after they'd put up the Barrier, they'd more or less forgotten about the outside world, completely isolating themselves instead. Dumbledore wonders, if he hadn't initiated contact, just how long would they have gone closed off as they were? Would they ever have crossed that self-imposed Barrier? Most likely not, from the sound of it.

"No. The little information we do have is centuries old, and likely no longer relevant."

"I see. Well I prepared for that, and have gathered a collection of tomes that I feel would be useful to you…among them you will find several historical texts, as well reports on modern-day wizarding life and common need-to-know spells. If you have any questions, you can send me a letter at any time. For now, Mister Hatake had informed me you would like to spend some time observing for yourself and studying what you need to know? For that very reason, I have had a room prepared for you at the Leaky Cauldron."

Dumbledore held out his elbow towards the young shinobi, who stared at it unblinking. "If you would take my arm, we can go now—your books are already there, waiting for you."

The redhead slowly did as asked, as though he were somewhat reluctant or wary—a perfectly understandable reaction, he supposed. But soon enough he had his hand cautiously wrapped around the other man's arm, and so Dumbledore apparated them to the shoddy looking pub with an audible crack.


Never again. Gaara never wanted to that, ever again. Their pitiful attempt at shunshin was rudimentary at best, and dangerous at worst. Gaara felt like he was being torn apart and thrown around when that excessively old wizard attempted to teleport them, and he wouldn't be surprised if using this "spell" had had similar, or worse, results in the past.

Once they had re-materialized Gaara was quick to regain his footing, and take a wary step back and away from the crazy old man, hastily letting go of his arm. "My apologies, I always forget to warn first-timers…I trust you are alright?"

"Fine," Gaara all but ground out. He was tired of these wizards and their "magic" already.

"Excellent! Now, just this way…" Dumbledore led the way into the most run-down looking pub Gaara had ever seen, the older gentleman at the bar looking about as decrepit as the place itself.

Gaara didn't pay much attention to the conversation as they came inside, more focused on taking in his surroundings. The people inside weren't dressed nearly as oddly as the Headmaster, but they still looked unusual nonetheless. The most confusing bit, besides the debilitating and no doubt overburdening cloaks that everyone seemed to sport, was the ever prominent pointed hats that they all seemed so akin to wearing.

Most turned and stared at Dumbledore as he entered—well known, it seemed, and widely appreciated—greeting him and making seemingly pleasant small-talk. The Headmaster seemed to put little effort into warding them off, only really stopping them when they began to notice the smaller, creepy-looking redhead at his side.

"Who's this, a student?"

"What's he doing with Dumbledore?"

"What's up with him?"

"Is he wearing makeup?"

"What's that thing on his face?"

"His hair's redder than a Weasley…"

"Small, isn't he?"

"What's with the kid?"

"Is he lost?"

"He looks kind of creepy…"

Gaara took to tuning them out for the most part, after taking note of what in particular seemed to alarm them the most; it'd be good for future reference, he supposed, and it would give him a bit of an idea of what was and wasn't considered normal in this foreign land. The most alarming conclusion, by far, was the fact that they seemed to see him as a child, despite him already being nineteen years of age—long past the age of maturity. Just how much did they pamper and coddle their children here? He was expecting the students at the school to be no older than twelve, but now he wasn't so sure…and he was beginning to become concerned with how his age might turn out to be one of the biggest hurdles he was going to have to face. (He could understand being alarmed with a fourteen-year-old Kage, but a nineteen-year-old teacher? As his brother-in-law would say, this was going to be troublesome…)

Mendokusē…

He tuned back in to their conversation when he saw they had finally reached the barkeep. "Tom, how are you?" Dumbledore asked, kindly.

"Dumbledore," he said, smiling through crooked teeth, "always good to see you! Are you here about the room?"

"That's correct. This is Gaara," he said, gesturing to the shorter male. "He'll be renting the room through September fourth."

"Alright." Taking down the key and passing it over to Dumbledore, Tom frowned thoughtfully at Gaara. "He looks a little old to be a new student though, and I've never heard of a transfer before…"

"He's not a student," Dumbledore corrected, "He's actually going to be teaching Japanese at Hogwarts starting this year."

"Teaching," the man asked, astonished. He whistled lowly, "Damn, just how old is he? He doesn't look like he could be that old—and a teacher at that age…at Hogwarts, of all places!" He laughed, "You certainly are an interesting character, kid, I'll give you that!"

After that they parted ways and Dumbledore led him upstairs to the room he'd be renting. It was a small thing, and looked about as rickety and broken-down as the rest of the building, but it was better than sleeping outside, and so Gaara saw no need to make a fuss—at the very least he wouldn't have to worry about the rain putting out his fire as he slept…and what a novel thing, sleep was; he was still getting used to it even after nearly four years.

The books were stacked off to the side as described, and the room was accentuated with a bed, a desk, a small table and chair, and a small array of candles to provide some meager lighting. Gaara thanked Dumbledore, and soon after he left.

Alone finally, Gaara walked over to the pile of books and began sorting through them. It would be best to start with the ones on history, he supposed, and thus he settled into a long night—which soon turned into a long week—of reading, and studying. In the afternoons and nights he would sometimes go out and observe the people, in an attempt to get a read on the atmosphere and better understand the culture of wizards—learn the things he knew he wouldn't be able to read in a book, much less a book written by wizards themselves.

Dumbledore had provided him with a healthy sum of spending money, and with that he was able to purchase all the supplies he could have needed, and then some. He briefly considered buying a wand but eventually ruled it out as unnecessary, as he soon found that he could perform most spells wandless and wordless, with just a bit of effort and practice on his part—he was most surprised to find that most if not all wizarding spells were at about the level of an E-rank jutsu, with the lowest difficulty rating and the least amount of skill necessary.

He'd have the whole book memorized by the end of the week, easily.

Now all that was left to do was to find some way to occupy his time until the start of term. He supposed he could always buy more books…maybe he could learn more spells in the meantime? Why not.

And that is how Gaara ended up memorizing all the spells for Years 1-7.

This mission was going to be a cinch.


A/N: Famous last words…

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- BL.