Hidden Inhumanity

by ShadowedAuthor

Sequel to Silent Humanity – Into his second year in a strange world, Gaara struggles more than ever to maintain his sanity and wellbeing. The dangers are mounting all around, both to and from the displaced Jinchūriki.

15. Chapter 15: Same Old Intentions

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: I've continued to be inspired by the great reader engagement I still somehow get on this story after all these years. I've even had some fanart posted to me in the comments of AO3, for which I am forever grateful.

I've also noticed that Hidden Inhumanity has just about reached the same length (ish) as Silent Humanity.

I hope you enjoy the following.

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(Last Time)

'Gaara,

I will reveal your volatile secrets if you do not meet with me after the interschool Quidditch match. Come alone to the second floor south corridor at 5pm on that day.'

It was not signed this time either. Gaara pocketed the threatening letter.

He'd forgotten about the blackmail.

"What was that about?" Draco asked after concluding his solid argument as to why that student should apologise to his parents for his poor choice in shoes and turning his attention back to Gaara.

"Nothing. Just Remus asking me to start answering Sirius's letters again." Gaara said.

"Hmm. Sounds about right. Hard to believe he was a professor anymore. The more I hear about him, the more he sounds like a cross between Mr Black's personal assistant and his ne'er-do-well relation."

Gaara thought that described their relationship fairly well.

He also thought about how to respond to this note. He was on limited time in this world. Could he risk ignoring it? Should he just resort to his base instincts and fall back on violence? Should he find out what they want?

He supposed he should at least attend on the day, in a little less than a week. He would have his sand for protection and he could find out who was toying with him and what they wanted.

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Draco was having a bad day. He made no secret of his feelings on this terrible, no-good day.

It had started with a broken shoelace, which had been mended with magic but he was sure he could still see the imperfect join no matter what his unsympathetic roommate said.

Then he had spotted Mafalda Lavado being bullied, which he might have been able to turn a blind eye to except when one of their fellow Slytherins convinced her that collecting the last apple from the giant tree near the Groundskeeper hut would make her a legend amongst their xenophobic housemates. That tree happened to be the Whomping Willow, which also did not happen to be an apple tree.

She was a terror and a social climber, but seeing the young girl march off to her probable death didn't sit right with him.

He later loudly blamed Gaara for that impulse before the redhead walked out.

Draco had stopped Lavado and explained to her how idiotic it would be to climb that particular tree, or to do what a group of sadistic (Slytherin) pre-teens told her to do to become socially acceptable. He also declared, to fend off any potential misunderstandings, that this had been motivated by pity and he did not (nor would he ever) like her. She looked conflicted about the act of kindness tempered by the harsh declaration.

Along with frustration at being blamed for making Draco a better person, which the redhead was perplexed by, Gaara may have also walked off due to his apparent annoyance with Draco again.

Draco was terribly frustrated by Gaara's bad mood since he had been trying to smooth the waters after their recent reconciliation. As always, his first thought had been material goods, and he had a moment of inspiration for the perfect present.

He had used most of his available, remaining, pocket money to commission a replacement for Gaara's peculiar bandana. Draco understood it was an important totem of his homeworld, so Draco wanted to get Gaara an improved version. Instead of tarnished steel with a simple, crude design, Draco had ordered a luxurious cashmere bandana with a more painstakingly engraved sterling silver plate. He had sent the original version over to the engravers so they could use its measurements and the hourglass design on which to base this superior copy.

Gaara had not appreciated the gesture.

In fact, the look of anger in his eyes as Draco proudly admitted he had been the cause of the bandana's disappearance had been enough to stop the blond before he explained that the engraving in fact did have gold inlay. Apparently Gaara had no appreciation for art and gave Draco the impression that he thought the replacement was worthless. He also said, "This is worthless."

After Gaara left angrily, Draco had sent a hasty owl to his preferred silversmith to have him return the original bandana rather than dispose of it. It would be a miracle if that were possible, he knew. This particular smith was known to him because he had crafted a number of high-quality silver masks for his father and associates, for an undisclosed reason, and was known for his discretion.

Draco wondered if he should get another gift to make up for the first attempt, but that felt too much like grovelling and they could be at this for months before he found the right thing to give to Gaara. Instead, he stashed the exquisite gift away in Gaara's voluminous trunk to find later.

As if those two travesties had not been enough for one morning, Draco had the misfortune to run into Mad-Eye Moody on his way back from the owlery. Teachers all have their favourites but, other than Snape, nobody showcased this favouritism as much as Moody. He treated the Gryffindors like they were the only ones worthy of learning DADA, and he treated the Slytherins like they should be kept from all combat education.

It wasn't as if all of them were Dark Lords in the making. But, as Moody said to him that morning when he raised this complaint, "Aye, true, not all of your little housemates will become Dark Lords, but if a Dark Lord does rise, they'll come from your House!"

That and similar accusations and insults were levelled at him almost entirely without provocation. And Draco had to stand there and take it because Moody was a professor and you didn't turn your back on a professor. You also definitely did not turn your back on old Mad-Eye, which mother and father had both emphatically explained to him.

And then, to top off his no-good day, he received a letter from his father. Once upon a time, such letters had been the highlight of his week, but now they were becoming increasingly burdensome. Case in point, his father had been hinting, with decreasing levels of subtlety, that Draco would be expected to serve the cause in the near future, and that he would be taking the mark in the summer.

Mother had been instrumental in keeping him out of the worst of it last year, when he might have been old enough to attend his first few meetings, but she would not be able to keep him at home any longer. Draco was a young man, and all men must serve the Dark Lord or perish. Even if there was not a lord to actually serve, they had to get together and discuss hatred and stilted ideologies that he now found to be alien.

Draco hated a lot of people, and a fair few of them were born to muggle homes, but he now thought of himself as an equal opportunity hater. They were ignorant and obnoxious and did not respect his culture, but he did not necessarily hate them because of their blood. The Weasleys were the perfect argument – purebloods, for the most part, but as distasteful as the most intrusive of muggle-born entrants to their world.

And all of that violence was honestly barbaric.

But what choice did Draco have, really?

Really.

The letter was carefully written not to incriminate him or his father, but he still carefully stashed it to burn later and then left the busy Great Hall to go and clear his head. He wanted to stop thinking about anything for a little while.

For this purpose, he followed the example of the most thoughtless person he knew and went to see Gaara's pet.

Gaara was otherwise occupied by a remedial Transfiguration lesson with McGonagall, as she had apparently been the first professor to overlook his Champion status and realise Gaara did not have a chance of passing his end-of-year exams based on his current spellcasting.

Another reason to leave the Hall was to escape from his teammates. With world-renowned Quidditch star Viktor Krum barred from participating in the upcoming interschool Quidditch Tournament, even more pressure was being heaped on Draco to win for Hogwarts. He almost wished Krum were playing so he would have an excuse if he buckled under the enormous weight being piled on his shoulders.

As he walked casually through the forest, Draco wondered why he ever found the place scary. Other than the first time, where he may or may not have been nearly attacked by their DADA professor possessed by the Dark Lord, most of time it had merely been boring. Though, that may have also been partially down to Gaara routinely clearing out the more dangerous creatures in the forest to quench his anger.

A win-win, as far as Draco was concerned.

Likewise, as he entered the usual clearing, he did not remember the last time he was actually afraid of Fluffy. The beast's ridiculous name had helped a bit in this regard, as he looked upon the feasting monster with fond derision. Big, dumb mutt.

It was chomping away at what little remained of a deer carcass, so Gaara must have stopped by before attending his supplementary lesson or Hagrid had brought the dog a treat.

Fluffy liked Draco well enough and was perfectly happy with him hanging around. Draco knew he should not approach while the dog was still eating as even a small warning nip could be fatal. Only Gaara could risk that, and maybe Hagrid. In their own ways, they were both well-suited to Cerberus ownership. When the last of the meat and bones and had been chewed, Fluffy finally acknowledged him, though one head did droop when it realised Gaara had not accompanied Draco.

He was not offended. Like some breeds, these dogs really did prefer one or two masters, but they didn't mind Draco or Luna's company and even gave him a cursory nuzzle with two and then three noses in greeting.

For such a large animal, Fluffy had surprisingly soft fur, which was satisfying to pet. Luna was the only person who ever said that aloud as Draco would rather die than admit such a thing and probably so would Gaara.

Draco stayed there a while, using his wand to play fetch with the dog. But, unlike how he suspected Gaara used his wand for fetch, Draco instead used his to levitate and throw branches, rather than throwing the wand itself.

He hadn't inspected Gaara's wand in a while. He made a mental note to check in and make sure the repairs had not already been undone.

As he played with the dog, his mind wandered and he thanked whoever was listening that he had not taken out credit to splurge and get Gaara the vermeil version of his bandana's metal plate. The gold would have suited Gaara but the price was eye watering since the Goblins had been buying up gold again and inflating the price.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

His feet were tapping lightly on the rocks around the edge of the Black Lake on Gaara's first leisurely run around the grounds this year.

He was not naturally a fitness enthusiast, and after seeing where that particular interest could eventually lead, he was glad of his moderate interest. However, he was raised to go on missions and take action, so spending most of his days sat at a desk left him with the desire to stretch his legs where he could reliably be alone.

Of course, being spring in the Scottish Highlands, it was still very cold. But in the absence of snow, ice and rain, Gaara jumped at the opportunity to get outside. It was also the first time he had a chance to get any real exercise since his recent illness. His lungs had fully healed so, no matter what Pomfrey had tried to demand, he would go for a run.

He also wanted to get out and away before he did something to further upset Draco, or let Draco upset him. He had never worn his forehead protector in its proper place, since his sand provided infinitely more protection than a scrap of steel. So being made out of polished silver made precious little practical difference.

However, to be seen wearing something like that would be unthinkable. Not to mention what Kankuro or even Temari would have said about it. Theirs was not a family of unnecessary ornamentation. Unless you counted Kankuro's hood.

So there he was, out by the lake under a clear blue sky, breathing in the fresh air. And then the small amount of sand Gaara had brought with him lashed out to deflect something that had been hurtling towards his head. Before he could get a look at what had been knocked out of the air, another came flying towards him.

Gaara ducked and looked around but he didn't see who had been attacking him. Another object flew towards him, coming from the direction of the lake. And his sand was sluggish in responding. He dodged out of the way as it splattered against his now soaking wet sand. He finally saw that they were clods of mud.

His sand was quickly becoming sodden and slow. And then there were four balls of watery dirt angling towards him, emerging directly from the lake's surface. His sand lazily spread and blocked three of them and the fourth missed him entirely, but as he watched, his sand started slough off and his hold on it began to falter.

Then six more clods were flying towards him.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

"Ooph, watch out, someone's on the warpath." Ron snickered, nodding behind Harry.

Harry pushed his glasses back up his nose and turned to see the best thing he had witnessed in weeks. Gaara was trudging determinedly through the corridor, soaking, covered in splatters like he had been pelted by a dozen balls of very cold mud.

Harry snorted.

"What do you reckon happened?" Harry said, still smiling so wide it hurt his mouth.

"I tried to warn him." Hermione huffed.

"About what?" Ron asked, leaning precipitously on his elbow to continue watching the other Champion marching through the crowds, leaving puddles and snickers in his wake.

"I warned him that he should stay away from the Lake until the merfolk had a chance to calm down. They are still really angry at him."

"At all of us, I suppose." Harry commented.

"Yes, but you're not the one who levelled all of their houses." Ron pointed out.

Hermione huffed again.

"Be fair, Herm. You give a lot of warnings. If we listened to all of them, we'd…" Ron trailed off.

"Pass your exams and not get in so much trouble?" Hermione supplied with a smirk.

"Yeah, right!" Ron nudged Harry conspiratorially but Harry leaned away.

"No, she's right." Harry admitted.

"Oh, there goes another!" Ron pointed at Moody who was storming through the halls. "Any theories on that one?"

"No idea whatsoever." Harry said. "But I wouldn't want to be whoever caused it."

"Does the same go for the merfolk?" Ron asked.

"With Gaara?" Harry thought about the look on the redhead's face as he had stormed past. "Nah, he's been much angrier."

Ron hummed. Maybe they would still be in for a show when Moody finished his hunt.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Minerva remembered when senior staff meetings were about teaching. They would discuss the odd cursing incident, usually involving a Slytherin student, and how to raise a cohort's faltering grades. Now, there had been an attempt on a professor's life. Two attempted murders so far this year.

She had been asked, once upon a time, to get involved with the Auror programme. Then and now, she did not want to have to deal with this madness. She had been forced by circumstance to support Albus in his war against Mr Riddle, but her passion was for education.

Suffice to say, Minerva McGonagall was not pleased to listen to Alastor's account of being poisoned at lunch. Thanks to him being… cautious, he always carried a bezoar on him, ready for just such an occasion.

Alastor was fine but he would not be eating any food prepared by anyone else for the foreseeable future.

Pomona, Severus, Filius, Albus and she had to wait until Alastor finished ranting about dark witches and wizards out to get him. Normally when he went on such a tirade, they could say he was simply being paranoid. Today, however, he had the privilege of being right.

"…though, we can't exactly rule out the staff either, can we?!" He looked directly at Snape. "Not everybody in this school can claim to be entirely innocent, can they, Severus?"

"Honestly now, that's enough, Alastor. Severus has proven himself time and again!" Minerva spoke up. Professional agreements aside, the young professor had her full confidence.

"I quite agree. This latest incident is certainly troubling, but, as Minerva has said, Severus's loyalty is not in question."

"Not to mention, if I had intended to poison you, a simple bezoar would not have saved you." Snape piped up, glaring at the old Auror.

Minerva pinched the bridge of her nose. Severus acted like an old curmudgeon half of the time, but then every once in a while he showed the same youthful impertinence that led her to confiscate his House points twenty years ago.

"What have you found so far, Albus?" Filius asked.

"I asked Minerva to make some enquiries." He said. While he believed in his staff, there was nobody in the world he trusted more than Minerva.

"One of the House Elves was put under the control of the Imperius curse." She paused to let her colleagues finished their gasps. "They also Obliviated the poor thing."

"They? Do we think there is more than one culprit?" Pomona asked.

"We have no way of knowing." Minerva answered.

"It could be any one of them." Moody snarled.

"Them?" Severus sneered even harder.

"Don't pretend you're not looking after a pit of vipers down there, Severus. I locked up half of their fathers during the war. A good few more of them afterwards!"

"I have no doubt that there are countless people, in Slytherin, and elsewhere, who would wish you ill, but they are children, not assassins." Snape said.

"You're going to tell me that there aren't a few budding Death Eaters down in the Dungeons right now? Why don't we go and ask to see every Seventh Year's forearm, see what we find?"

"You will do no such thing!" Minerva said. They all knew that at least a few of the teenagers would indeed bear the Dark Mark. It was still common practice amongst some known families to mark their sons and daughters when they reached the age to join them.

In theory, they could call in the Aurors and have those students and their families arrested, but in practice it would lead to open revolt amongst the pureblood families and would radicalise more than it stopped.

The subject was the topic of hot debate every year or two at the school. Minerva and Severus were in rare agreement that it would not help the unfortunate children being indoctrinated and forced to bear the mark.

"Must we assume it is someone within the castle?" Snape asked.

"Sounds like Snape has a theory! Why don't you share it with the room?" Moody looked intrigued.

"Must we pretend that Headmaster Karkaroff does not have one of the strongest motives for murdering our resident Death Eater hunter? You were instrumental in his arrest, if I recall, and, following that, he was forced to name names. He has feared for his life and has had to live in exile in his school ever since. This is probably the first time he has stepped foot out of his own country since his trial."

"That's enough speculation for the time being." Dumbledore said. "We do not have any evidence to work with, so we will do more harm than good in trying to identify the assassin. However, I would remind you all that this is not the first poisoning we have seen at the school this year."

"The dragon?" Pomona asked.

"Precisely." Dumbledore turned to look at Moody. "I can think of many who would seek to do both you and Mr Potter harm."

"They'll need to do a better job if they think a little poison will finish the job!"

Snape opened his mouth to make a remark but Minerva cleared her throat before he could.

"Severus, can you distribute bezoars to the staff after we finish here? If we cannot prevent another attempt, we can at least be prepared to counter it." Minerva said.

"I should have enough, if my stores have not been raided again while I am away."

"I will also be increasing the patrols of the castles. And I would appreciate it if today's events could be kept from the students. They have entirely too much to distract them already and we do not need to add to that burden."

"Of course, headmaster." Pomona said and the others nodded or, in Snape's case, grunted the affirmative.

"Thank you for coming everyone. Please, as dear Alastor would tell us, keep up the constant vigilance."

All but Minerva left.

"I think it is finally time for some actual school governance." She said briskly, helping herself to the teapot.

"Yes, I never thought I would look forward to discussing student scores. It used to be the part I least liked about this role."

"Not just for you." She agreed, sitting across from him.

"What news do you have?"

"Arithmancy scores are still below par. Yet more fallout from the distractions facing the students, I fear. I don't envy Septima trying to keep the upper years focused on one of the drier subjects." And that was Minerva putting it lightly. She had never been able to develop any interest in arithmancy during her schooling or since.

She continued. "As usual, there have been more complaints about Alastor's… approach to the Slytherins. Their families have been quite vocal to both Severus and myself."

"Yes, Severus has relayed some of that, and added his own thoughts as well."

"I have the greatest respect for him, but he is not a natural educator." Minerva scoffed.

"While I know that Alastor can be overzealous," Albus began.

"If that's what we're calling it." Minerva said into her teacup.

"-he was the most qualified person I could find under the circumstances. Not to mention, with everything else happening this year, I needed someone here that I could count on to provide some additional protection. I might also speculate that some of the complaints that Severus has received were from the parents of students who were personally arrested by Alastor."

"So you think they are simply made up?"

"Perhaps, but not entirely. Keep an eye on anything that comes in. We are forced to give him a little leeway with his disciplinary style, but within reason."

"Well, 'reason' is not the first quality that comes to mind when I think of 'Mad-Eye Moody'."

"Please, Minerva."

"Fine. I think I've made my feelings abundantly clear." She said. "Now, onto the Herbology budget."

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

"Gaara, have you noticed how many people are angry at you?" Sirius asked looking around the busy room.

Gaara looked around. He had not noticed.

"No."

Sirius hummed. He'd only asked that question to bring up the subject, but if Gaara really had not noticed, that raised other questions.

"You're used to this type of attention, I suppose?"

"Yes."

Sirius hummed again. "And, just to be clear, this here is about the Second Task, right? You've not done something else to upset everyone since we last spoke."

"Probably."

Sirius set his hand on Gaara's shoulder even though he knew the boy did not care for physical contact. He had to be sure the boy had not replaced himself with a sand clone. Apparently not. Just a boy who didn't want to talk.

"Dare I ask, in the past few weeks, have you… I don't know, apologised to the other Champions?" Sirius ventured. "I know it wasn't really your fault, but they don't know that and they're not going to find out any time soon."

Gaara glanced at him before resuming staring at a blank spot on the wall so that no one would think he was looking at them.

"We are competing."

Sirius considered those words. If Gaara deigned to answer, he clearly thought he had a point to make.

"And you think it was normal to try and kill them since you were competing. So they shouldn't expect an apology. That sound about right?"

"Yes."

"You're an idiot. Go and say you're sorry. You don't need them bearing grudges against you on top of the competition."

Sirius honestly thought Gaara was too old to be spoken to like this and to be nudged to make these types of decisions. However, Gaara also had the emotional maturity of someone a fraction of his age.

Gaara continued to blank him so Sirius said, "Would a hug make you feel better about apologising to your little friends?"

Gaara glared at him for a moment, trying to gauge how much of a bluff this was. Then he squared himself and set off into the crowd.

Good. Sirius was feeling very parental.

He had accepted the invite to the student Quidditch contest because he had shockingly little to do in his personal life, outside of preparing his legal case. A chance to see the boys and also watch teenagers attempt to play the most beautiful sport in the Wizarding world was worth the floo powder.

Gaara crossed the tent to the closest Champion, checking twice that Sirius was still watching him so that he couldn't just wander away. If he did, he knew the man-child would make it his mission to make Gaara regret it.

Potter was closest, standing on his own and staring at his drink like he did not know how to mingle at a society event. Gaara wondered why he had not employed the same tactic Gaara had and just stood near Sirius. Though, considering what Gaara was now being forced to endure, maybe Potter had the right idea.

"Oh, Gaara. Did you need something?" The brunette asked, now looking split between relief at having something to do and dismayed that this something was talking to one of his most hated classmates.

"I have to apologise." Gaara meant that literally.

"Apologise?" Harry squinted. That did not sound like the Gaara he knew.

"Yes. I am sorry I nearly killed you in the lake." Gaara waited for a moment before walking away, not bothering to wait for a further response.

Apologies rarely ended well in his experience. He had tried it a little in Suna, after he realised how bad murdering his fellow villagers was. Those who did not flee in terror at the sight of him mostly shouted abuse at him. His siblings assured him that they were just upset, but it did not make Gaara feel better like they promised.

He had better luck apologising since then, but anything Shukaku-related tended to go badly. Not to mention that Potter did not like him.

Ignoring Harry's startled expression as he apologised and ran, Gaara continued on into the crowd, also ignoring two or three adults beckoning the eccentric Champion to join them.

Harry looked around and spotted Sirius and went over to him now that Gaara was gone.

"What's with that look?" Sirius asked.

"I think Gaara just said he was sorry." Harry said.

"Oh, what did he say?"

"No, it was just that. He said he wanted to apologise, then he walked away."

Sirius sighed. Well, it was better than nothing. "And?"

"And what?"

"Do you accept or do I need to lock you two in a room together?" Sirius knew this was an empty threat as he could not imagine Harry re-emerging from that room.

"Well, I suppose so. I'm not going to hate him for an accident. He shouldn't have waited for weeks to say it, but accidents happen. Especially if you're a massive idiot." Harry could not resist the dig, even if he knew Sirius did not like his acrimony with Gaara.

"Well, he is a bit." Sirius agreed, sighing again as he watched Gaara's head swivelling about and then bobbing through the sea of shoulders.

Gaara had spotted Krum amongst a group of important-looking people but he did not think he could wait until these ones moved away and before the next lot swooped in to pester the young Quidditch star. Already Gaara's entrance to the social circle of hell had drawn attention and soon some intrepid rich person would approach Gaara rather than fruitlessly trying to beckon Gaara to them.

"Krum." He said in greeting.

"Oh, this must be Gaara. We've heard all about you." Someone unimportant said. Gaara kept his eyes locked on the much larger boy.

"If you will excuse us for one moment. We must talk." Krum said, staring right back at Gaara.

"Of course. It was lovely to me you. Both. Both of you, lovely to…" They walked away nervously.

"What do you want?" Krum demanded.

"I have been told to apologise."

"Why?"

Gaara blinked owlishly. "What?"

"This is about the Second Task, yes? We competed. No one died. Why apologise?"

"I do not know." Gaara could not agree more.

"Then do not. We will fight to win and the best Wizard, or Witch, will be the victor." He said gruffly.

Gaara nodded and walked away. He liked Krum. He hoped they were not tasked with fighting to the death in the next round.

Delacour was hard to find until Gaara stopped looking for her and instead looked for the densest cluster people. Sure enough, when he approached, she was at the centre of it.

Gaara knew that Delacour was part-Veela, and that Veela were the creatures who elicited that peculiar effect at the start of the Quidditch World Cup finals. Fortunately, the human dilution to that effect spared Gaara from it, it seemed. Unlike every other male in the vicinity, it seemed Gaara was still capable of rational reasoning.

He doubted that the glare she flashed at him was related to this resistance. The people flocking around her would not dissipate as easily as those crowding Krum, so he proceeded with an audience.

"I am sorry for the Second Task." He said.

A number of them went quiet at that, a few others, reporters apparently, were furiously taking notes. And Fleur herself? She huffed and continued glaring at him.

He turned and left again. Sirius did not say he had to gain their forgiveness, just make the apology. Now he could return to the relative peace of Sirius's proximity. Except Potter had taken his place.

With that area now rife with conversation, he sought solitude. Draco was busy getting changed for the upcoming match, which apparently would take the full two hours of this party, so Gaara settled near the edge of the enormous marquee. Luna was not enough of a VIP to warrant an invitation to this event, he had been told, so he stared into space and thought about sand.

Sirius meanwhile had moved into the crowds. He had lost sight of Gaara after he had waded into the throngs of people surrounding Miss Delacour, so the boy could please himself. And Harry had fled to find himself a treacle tart at the ample dessert table after Sirius had commenced teasing him because he forgot to run a comb through his hair that morning.

Harry tried arguing that Gaara had not combed his hair either, but Sirius just said that Gaara's naturally spiky hair was more forgiving and Harry's was noticeably messy without proper maintenance. It was only after Harry was halfway towards his sweet treat that he realised this was the first time a well-meaning adult male had given him tips on how to look more presentable. It was very strange. He wondered if living with Sirius would entail lots of that sort of thing.

Sirius intended to use the break in parenting to do something he felt was overdue.

He had spotted Minister Fudge speaking with Rufus Scrimgeour. As he approached the hushed conversation, he heard the veteran Head of the Auror Office say, "-leak did not come from the usual Dark influences."

The chatter stopped when Scrimgeour spotted Sirius's approach.

"Ah, Mister Black. It's been too long." He said without any warmth.

"And you, Mister Scrimgeour. Any manhunts for innocent people lately? No? Too bad, but at least we have Quidditch for entertainment." Sirius sniped. No matter their Light affiliation, he held no love for the Ministry that imprisoned him or those who hunted him like a dog while the rat was free to threaten Prongslet.

"By your leave, Minister." Scrimgeour said deferentially.

"It's fine, go. It looks like Mister Black wants to say something to me." Fudge smiled.

Scrimgeour gave a nod and stepped away, gesturing for the Aurors in the vicinity to be ready. Sirius Black was not considered a serious threat but attacks could come from unexpected places.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your company today?" Fudge started.

"I want to know what exactly you want with Gaara."

"Whatever the Ministry does is for the good of all, including children like the boy. I've had no direct involvement in it, but I understand you have petitioned for custody of both him and the Potter boy. I wish you luck."

"Yes, I'm sure you do. That's why you have pushed more funding on fighting my adoption case than you have for half of the criminal cases in front of the Wizengamot."

"It's for the boys' own good. Why exactly do you want them, Mister Black? The Boy Who Lived and the Defender of Hogwarts. That's a lot of notoriety."

"As I have said all along, I will give them a proper childhood. So back off."

"You must understand, we cannot simply trust such a promising boy to your care when you insist on hurting the national interest with such dangerous projects." There was no doubt in Sirius's mind which boy Fudge considered to be 'promising'.

"And accurate education on lycanthropy is hurting the national interest?"

"Dangerous misinformation. The Ministry has done extensive research on the subject, I can assure you. All you are doing is making more young witches and wizards vulnerable attack."

"Extensive research. I doubt any of your researchers have been within a hundred yards of a real werewolf, on the full moon or not. The corruption that has seeped into the Ministry, it's a wonder they even bother printing your lies anymore." Sirius snarled.

His tone had apparently been audible, even if the content was not, as two Aurors within sight started advancing.

"That's quite alright, gentlemen. He is harmless. Just an activist. He was just on his way." And then Fudge turned around and ignored Sirius.

As he retreated back to the edge of the tent, Sirius wondered what he intended to achieve in that confrontation. But his self-recrimination for kicking the hornet's nest ended when he spotted something he did not like.

A few minutes before, as if he had been waiting for the opportunity, Lucius approached Gaara as soon as he was alone.

"Good morning, Gaara. It's been a while. Are you well?" Lucius said with his most winning smile.

Gaara did not want to play.

"What do you want?"

Lucius let the smile drop from his face. Evidently there was no need of it here. "Always so forthright. An unusual quality in Slytherin. One does wonder why the Sorting Hat did not see fit to sort you into Ravenclaw or Gryffindor."

Gaara did not repeat himself. He had nothing new to say to Draco's father so he was fine standing in silence if the man had nothing to say.

"Instead, you were sorted in the noblest, purest House, Slytherin. I have no interest in where students spend their evenings, except when it involves my son. So I am forced to come to you one more time. You wield influence over Draco, so the time has come for you to come into the fold or step away from my son. If you continue to fight and argue, I will ensure you and Draco never see each other again."

Gaara was looking him in the eyes now. Good.

"There is no room for neutrality in what is coming. Our forces will rise again and if you do not join us wholeheartedly, you will become Draco's enemy."

Gaara did not rush to respond. He took a moment to consider the words. "If we fight, you think Draco will choose the Dark Lord over his friend?"

"So you have made your choice. You will stand against him. So be it. You have sealed your fate once and for all. I will not extend this chance again, boy."

Gaara was pretty sure he had been given a 'last chance' at least once or twice before. Then again, unlike what he recalled of last time, the platinum-blond man looked ready to draw his wand at that moment. That would have made this event more interesting.

"This is your last chance too. Let Draco choose for himself or I will destroy you and your organisation."

Lucius's eyes bulged and nostrils flared. His hand actually reached for his wand but then he remembered where they were and he stood up straighter and smoothed his immaculate robes.

And then Sirius stormed over.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" The tone Sirius was using left no mistake that if he did not like the answer, he would be throwing Lucius out of this tent by his hair.

"Oh, Sirius. I've been meaning to come over and say hello. I was sorry to hear about your custody case. It's become rather complicated, hasn't it. I hope the Black family vaults still have enough gold for a protracted legal battle. I would need to discuss it with my wife and my accountant, but we might be able to arrange a small loan if you need help making ends meet."

Sirius knew precisely how much of an insult such an offer of a loan was to men of their social status.

"No, I wouldn't want to deprive you, Lucius. After all, I've seen just how expensive legal cases can be, and when you're next in trouble, I think you will need every knut." Sirius said. "Oh dear, your tie is crooked."

Sirius leaned forward and adjusted the previously perfect tie so it sat in exactly the same place.

Wands were forgotten, Gaara was pretty sure these two grown men were about to throw fists. Luckily Narcissa had radars for when her husband or family members were about to disgrace themselves in public.

"Oh, thank you, cousin." Narcissa said, taking one of Lucius's arms. "With the press here in force, we can't afford to look any less than our best. I'm terribly sorry but I hope you will excuse us, I think I saw Elsbeth Crowley earlier. We've not seen her since the unfortunate business in America last year, you know. Come along, Lucius."

She quickly dragged Lucius away and Sirius watched them go.

"Unfortunate business is their way of describing killing a car full of Muggles who had the audacity to drive within half a mile of their estate. Got off on a technicality."

After all the excitement, Gaara was about ready to go back to the castle.

"Not so fast, Gaara. The Quidditch starts in twenty minutes." Sirius set his hand on Gaara's shoulder and vowed to keep it there as long as it was needed.

Gaara had forgotten that he had to sit through the sport again. And once again there was no escape.

Potter reappeared with crumbs down the front of his robes as the honoured guests were ushered to climb the many staircases up the enormous Quidditch stadium. It was the third time Gaara had entered this particular stadium and he could appreciate the Wizarding government truly getting their money's worth by reusing it. He half-expected to return again for the Third Task.

He had not been told about the Third Task yet, right?

He briefly looked at Potter but decided he was confident he has not been told and it was not worth the mockery to confirm.

They had the best seats in the house and, as a result of the visibility, Sirius confiscated the small book Gaara had smuggled in his robes.

Gaara raised an eyebrow, wondering how Sirius knew it was there.

"Please, Bandit. I am the expert in smuggling items under my robes, and I didn't have anything as bulky as a book under mine." He was the first in their year to have a hipflask. Coincidentally, he was also the first in their year to receive detention for getting drunk in the middle of a history lesson.

Following in his footsteps, a drinking game wherein the participants take a shot whenever Binns said the word 'Goblin' experienced a brief popularity before a harsh crackdown by the administration against all underage drinking.

"After the match, you can have your book on… 'Magical Bridges and Where to Cross Them'…" Sirius sighed heavily and rubbed his eyelids. "I really need to get you a hipflask."

Gaara scowled. It was not the most interesting book he had read, but Luna had recommended it and he was close to the end.

"So, Prongslett, what do you think our chances are?" Sirius turned to Harry.

"Well, I think the team has a lot of good players, but I've not seen much of their practices so I don't know how well they can play together. And I've never seen the Durmstrang students actually playing before, especially without Krum."

"I expect they will have a similar issue to Hogwarts. They've had to cobble together a team as well." Sirius said.

Gaara was seeing who he recognised in the crowds on the other side of the stadium. Nobody so far. Continue looking.

Sirius kept chatting with Harry, and together they came back to the fact that this event seemed to have been poorly planned. Having three teams meant that they were holding three matches, so everyone got to play everyone else, but it also meant that one team would have to play twice on the same day, and could potentially lead to each team winning one match and ending up with a three-way tie.

Igor Karkaroff was still fuming about drawing the short straw and his team having to play twice in one day. Sirius said Karkaroff was sure to blame any and all losses on this latest injustice.

There had been some discussion of a second Hogwarts team, because of the additional Champion, but this had been hotly contested until it was dropped. Even Hogwarts had been opposed to it as it would have forced them to split their best players between two teams.

After the usual bloviating, Fudge allowed the Quidditch to begin. Gaara watched as Draco followed the other players out onto the field. He was easy to spot with his hair, but that was about the only detail apparent at this distance.

Based on the commentary, the opening match between Hogwarts and Durmstrang was apparently quite the display of teenage skill. Gaara tried his best to pay attention but it was impossible to maintain that attention when the only person he was interested in watching did the least interesting job.

Gaara understood Draco was a skilled Seeker, albeit perhaps not the most talented around. However, amongst the backdrop of the teeming stadium and the collected best players from two schools, it was clear he was struggling to spot the Snitch.

As always, the roaring crowd made Gaara want to run far away, or do other things. But within the first half hour, Gaara had spotted Draco's eyes snapping to him briefly at least three times. Whether his friend was anticipating his inclination to depart or he was just looking for friendly faces, Gaara knew he would be missed if he did sneak away. Plus Sirius had the edge of Gaara's robe pinched between his fingers.

Gaara considered whether he could get away with using the Kawarimi to slip out of his robe and switch places with another spectator, but he doubted they would play along.

So, Gaara had to grit his teeth against the throbbing headache and wait.

Harry scowled at Gaara being so melodramatic. Just because he didn't like crowded places, there was no need to pretend like he was in pain. Big baby.

The match lasted for about an hour and a half without any breaks. Durmstrang had been leading the entire match but not by much, and then suddenly Draco sped around and finally did something. It was over so fast at that point, Gaara nearly missed his friend's triumph.

Gaara clapped softly, wishing the thousands of others in the stadium would follow his polite example.

When he felt he had clapped enough, he stood to leave but Sirius's hand was still holding his robe.

"Nice try but sit back down." Sirius said.

"It's over." Gaara argued.

"And you know full well that this was just the first match. The next match starts in two hours."

"I need the bathroom." Gaara lied.

"Tough. Now sit down. Don't think I won't conjure a child harness." Sirius pulled out his wand and Gaara sat back down.

Harry snickered, "Go on. He'll sneak off when you're not watching."

Sirius barked a laugh and flicked Harry on the ear for his cheekiness.

Sirius might normally have taken pity on Gaara and let him escape now that Draco was done playing for the day, but with the custody case looming, he needed to be seen publicly to be able to control Gaara. The boys were both supposed to stay and watch the entire event, so he needed to be able to provide evidence that Gaara did not have total disregard for the rules while he was around.

A child harness might not have been the best sign that Gaara respected the rules, but at least it would show Sirius knew how to handle him.

In fact, maybe a harness would demonstrate his active parenting style. On the other hand, if he actually tried it, there was a reasonable chance that Gaara might freak out and kill him. Which would reflect poorly on his parenting.

Gaara settled back into his seat and simmered.

"So, Prongslet, what did you think?"

"Overall? I think we were too heavy on our Beaters. It made us look defensive, trying to keep the Chasers on their half, which played into the Durmstrang's offensive posture." Harry said.

In truth, he was itching the entire match to hop on his broom and snatch the Golden Snitch out of the air every time he saw it. Speaking of…

"And our Seeker, if you can call him that, missed the Snitch five or six times when it was right next to him! I hope we've got a substitute or a pair of glasses he can wear!"

Sirius chuckled and, while Harry was busy continuing his critique and oblivious to Sirius's momentary inattention, turned to Gaara, "He actually did quite well. Harry is just keeping the rivalry alive, you know. Make sure to tell Draco, when you see him, that we were actually rather impressed."

Gaara nodded. He did not think he would relay the part about Potter being secretly impressed, even if were true, since he doubted it would make Draco happy. Or he would become insufferably happy. Either way, it would not make Gaara happy.

After some suitable pageantry, the special guests were invited to another reception while the Durmstrang team rested up for their second match of the day.

It gave the important people a chance to discuss preceding match away from the hoi polloi. Gaara was unsure which he hated more, the roaring crowds or the chattering rich people.

Sirius did not encourage Gaara to venture into the mingling crowds again this time. With the way he was looking, Sirius was seriously tempted to let the boy escape after all.

Then again, perhaps keeping him within sight was a better idea. Especially with the types of people wandering the Hogwarts grounds that day.

Hell, look at the people wandering right past the Minister for Magic with barely a second glance.

Sirius's eyes were drawn to Igor Karkaroff, who looked fit to kill somebody. Apparently the injustice of his precious school's team having to play twice in the day and then losing in the first match had upset him a great deal.

He had probably come to the party, despite lacking any good cheer, in order to stop himself cursing his students for their intolerable failure. If they didn't have another match to attend that day, he most certainly would have hexed them. Instead, he would wait until they returned to Durmstrang, where there would be a reckoning.

Sirius was sure Karkaroff would be telling people the loss was because his team had been saving themselves for the next match, or something along those lines. But until the angry Headmaster had time to gain enough perspective to try and save face, he was going to scowl and snarl at anyone who came near him.

Sirius wished he wasn't chaperoning his own murderous friend right in that moment, as he would have really enjoyed messing with the contemptible man. Off the top of his head, he could think of five hilarious things to make the man try and curse him.

He looked to one side and knew Gaara would not care about his witticisms. To the other side, he worried his ideas might inspire Harry to go and try it out. Sirius had honed his ability to dodge his comeuppance for years and he did not want to corrupt Harry.

Not until the adoption was finalised.

So, until then, Sirius took out his little notebook and jotted the thoughts down to share later. He was sure Moony would get a kick out a few of these.

Sirius engaged Harry in a nice mundane conversation about school, since they were there together. Gaara did not seem to want to participate, as usual, but Sirius did drag him into the chatter from time to time, if only to distract the redhead.

With one boy on either side of him, it again occurred to Sirius just how similar his two boys were. They were both raised in what could charitably be called unloving households, trauma surrounded their early lives, they endured unwanted notoriety, and they were overburdened by the expectations of the adults in their lives.

Sirius had never been considered ambitious, which was just part of the reason he had not been invited to his family's precious Slytherin House. So he would not be adding to the boys' burdens. If they wanted to become layabouts like him, they could. If Harry wanted to become a professional Quidditch player, he could. If Gaara wanted to… spend time with his dog, Sirius would support him.

Of course, they were vastly different as well. Gaara was a bookworm who seemed to be doing well academically, no matter how disinterested he said he was, and he had a rare appetite for fighting. Harry was a fairly bright lad but his theoretical exam scores were no threat to Ravenclaw's position on the leaderboard. And while he was a talented spellcaster, he did not have a natural flare for fighting. Or perhaps he just greatly disliked it.

Not to mention Gaara's own spellcasting, which was anything but talented. Frankly, it would be a miracle if Gaara managed to get through his exams at the end of the year. He seemed to have stopped trying, for the most part, with his practical magic work.

Sirius had to promise the Ministry that he would provide for remedial lessons over the summer. He knew just the wolf who owed him a favour.

Even if the Ministry had enacted barbaric laws to stop his friend from teaching at a school, there was nothing to say he couldn't work as a private tutor. Of course, Sirius would wait until the ink was dry on the adoption forms before announcing that particular plan.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Gaara nearly fell out of his chair from the sheer boredom of the following match.

He couldn't close his eyes or read a book, so he had to sit and stare into space for two hours of play time, without even a friend to keep his interest.

He might have tried to meditate or enter his mindscape, but all of this activity was driving Shukaku mad, which made Gaara's mind the last place he wanted to visit.

If there was any suspense or surprise in Beauxbatons's victory, it was lost on Gaara who was simply glad it was over, regardless of the outcome. He would later read that it had been close, but he fortunately remembered little of the match.

One thing he did remember vividly, however, was the sight of Professor Karkaroff having to be wrestled away from his wand after his school lost for a second time that day. Dumbledore and the mountainous Madam Maxime shared a polite handshake ahead of the final match the next day between their schools.

Sirius and Harry began to talk even more about Quidditch, as they had somehow not managed to exhaust that topic yet. Gaara did not wait for permission, he fled now that the event was over for the day.

Sirius continued discussing Hogwarts' chances against Beauxbatons the next day. There were endless considerations but he had to cut them short and hug Harry goodbye when McGonagall approached to kick him out. Apparently Snape had worked out he was on the grounds and was coming for him.

"Well, it's certainly not like my old friend Severus to hold a grudge for a small practical joke, but I had best do as Professor McGonagall says. It was great to see you, my boy. I can't wait for tomorrow!" Sirius said before retreating.

Back at the castle, the celebrations were in full swing. Hogwarts had not been expected to triumph over Durmstrang, so every player was suddenly a hero to their peers.

Gaara noted that Draco was surrounded so he planned to see him later. He would offer him congratulations for winning – in a contest that ultimately did not matter.

Luna approached him to talk but Gaara wanted to be alone so he politely walked away without a word and went to the forest.

He spent some time out there with Fluffy, who was pleasantly quiet after a few initial barks when he approached.

That is, he enjoyed the peace and quiet until the celebratory fireworks went off in the evening, casting light and noise into his sanctuary.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Draco revelled in reading about his victory. The papers were patriotic enough to devote significant sections of their front and inside pages to recounting his exploits in the air. No matter the usual, lowly school matches, he was now a Hogwarts Quidditch legend.

Take that, Potter!

Draco did note, as he read the paper, that there was a small article bemoaning the lack of preparedness as the fireworks following the upcoming third and final match were supposed to make the display last night look paltry by comparison.

However, just after the comparably more modest display from the first day had finished, an as-of-yet unknown creature from the Dark Forest had apparently managed to destroy the staging platform. While the pyrotechnic wizards had managed to escape, their supplies had been irreparably crushed and rendered useless by whatever attacked.

Magical gunpowder was too volatile to repair magically and the Ministry organisers could not procure a replacement supply in time for the next day. So there would be no more fireworks.

The Ministry was investigating the incident.

On an unrelated note, Draco was led to believe that Dumbledore was looking for Gaara.

Draco wondered what connection there might be between these two apparently disparate events, but he was in too good a mood to dwell on that, or the mystery of Gaara arriving at their room last night smelling of gunpowder.

Draco was a simple Slytherin, so he lacked the Ravenclaw head for intrigue or mystery. As such, the events of yesterday would have to remain shrouded in secrecy.

He assumed Gaara would be done getting chewed out by the Headmaster in time for his public appearance at the finale match.

A few hours later, he could see from atop his broom that Gaara was exceptionally angry. Whether this was because of the aforementioned chewing out, the fireworks themselves, or being forced to attend yet more Quidditch, Draco could only guess since his friend had been gone when he woke up.

Gaara was able to watch some of the match without despairing. Draco seemed to be moving more this time, often nearly colliding with his opposing Seeker. And Gaara could hear the occasional snarky rebuke from Potter, which told him that Draco was probably doing something right.

As the match progressed, the Seekers became more desperate to secure the win for their school. For around ten minutes before the other players broke it up, it looked less like Quidditch and more like a duel to see who could knock the other off of their broom.

Gaara did not have much sand with him but he was pretty sure he could catch Draco before he fell to his death, if it came to it. Of course, he did not have enough sand for the other Seeker, but the school could blame themselves for that restriction's outcome. The Beauxbatons Seeker could also blame himself after Draco took a shoe to the face and came out with what Gaara would guess was a broken nose.

"Don't worry, Gaara, I'm sure they'll fix that right up afterwards." Sirius told him.

"Not too quickly, I hope. I want a picture!" Harry laughed.

Gaara did not intend any sort of retribution for Draco's injury. It was all part of the healthy competition, and the opposing Seeker's missing front tooth seemed like a fair balance.

At some point, Sirius has passed Gaara omnioculars to watch Draco more closely. Sirius would have liked to have used them himself, but it seemed Gaara was finally taking a modicum of interest, so anything he could do to encourage that was worthwhile. It would be a dream come true to get Gaara engaged with the sport.

It was thanks to the impressive capabilities of the recording device that Gaara was able to see both the precise moment that Draco caught the Snitch in his gloved hand, as well as the look of utter shock on his flushed face in that exact second. He could also track, in the slow-speed setting, as Draco's aristocratic features were schooled into cool composure in the seconds that followed his catching the Snitch.

Gaara held his hands over his ears in the moments that followed, dropping the omnioculars in the process, when everyone in the vast stadium erupted into calamitous cheering and applause.

The teams began swarming around each other in celebration and commiseration. Meanwhile, Gaara stole a glance at Sirius's watch and saw time had run out.

He sent his sand to curl around one of the nearby wooden struts. It crushed the wood, making the seating shudder and a loud crack to ring out. Everyone in the vicinity startled or screamed, but when nothing else collapsed, they calmed. And then Sirius noticed Gaara had slipped away and he said a word he hoped the Ministry did not know he said in front of his other soon-to-be adopted child.

Harry thought Draco was a prime example of that word, but even he thought it was callous for Gaara to run out in Draco's moment of glory.

Sirius was planning two things. First, what lie he would tell to excuse Gaara's absence. Second, what spell he could use to lock Gaara into that children's harness so he could not pull this stunt again.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

The grounds and the castle were pleasantly deserted. Gaara was reminded of how much nicer the castle was during his nightly walks when everyone was asleep. His fellow students were anything but asleep, but all of them were holed up in their dormitories, cheering around their radios.

He ascended the main staircase to the second floor, and then through the castle to south corridor.

He was a few minutes early and was glad that whoever was blackmailing him had not been waiting for him. A few more minutes to himself was a nice surprise.

It also gave him time to collect himself. He had stopped by their room on the way to this rendezvous to collect his full gourd. It was comforting to have its weight on his back again.

He tried once again to guess who might be behind the notes. Sadly, even the people whose names he actually remembered did not seem likely.

Snape seemed like he would just try to kill him without all of this subterfuge. Lucius would probably do the same, or his letters would have at least been written with much better handwriting.

Did Voldemort want him dead? Was the mysterious evil Wizard alive and capable or writing? He wasn't sure.

The 'Dark Lord' probably did want him dead, if Lucius's attitude was any indication. His current status was a complete unknown. Gaara had struggled to find any answers as to what happened to the man, especially since he was not supposed to say the name at all. And "You Know Who" was a terribly unhelpful alias.

There was a tapping coming towards him. Maybe a cane.

Gaara sighed. Maybe it was time to kill Lucius after all. If he dealt with the body quickly enough, maybe Draco did not need to find out?

The rhythm was not right. The tapping against the stone floor was too frequent. Like shoes. Like high-heeled shoes.

And then came the reporter. Lisa something-or-other.

"Oh good, you finally came, Gaara!" Rita Skeeter said cheerily, sneering down her nose at him.

"What do you want?" He demanded.

"Oh, no greetings? What would your lovely little brother and sister say if they heard you being so rude!?"

Gaara paused. She knew he had a brother sister but thought they were younger than him. He did not believe he had disseminated their existence to more than a couple of people. So, how did she know?

Some magical means of uncovering secrets, perhaps. But if there was such a convenient magic, surely the Ministry would not go to such lengths to bother him.

"What do you know?" He tried again.

"You know, usually I'm the one asking all the questions." She smirked. "But I know you won't answer any of my questions if I don't tell you just a taste of what I know." She tapped her chin ponderously.

"I suppose I should start with what will make the headlines when I write my articles. I think I'll make it a series. Very good for circulation, you know. Especially when there's such a juicy story in the offing. My dear readers will be glued to their papers for weeks thanks to you and I. The boy from another world, the murderer who has killed people in his own world and here. Who aided Sirius Black when he was a fugitive to evade the Ministry. The boy who houses a monster inside of him."

Gaara did not know the cleaning spell, so he was going to need to get a mop and a bucket after he crushed her to death. The question was whether he waited to see what she wanted or skipped the preamble.

"You have a lot to say. Why have you called me here?" Gaara questioned when his curiosity got the better of him.

"Why indeed! Why indeed. As you say, I've got enough juicy stories to sells papers in every magical country in the world. So why might I have been trying so hard to get you to meet me?"

Gaara was counting down in his head.

"Because I want to tell your story, of course! An exposé would do marvellously, but an interview, telling your side of the story? That would be the stuff of legends."

Okay, Gaara had heard enough, except, it turned out Rita Skeeter's journalistic instincts had given her a sense for when she was in danger.

"And before you get any funny ideas, I should warn you that my editor knows I'm meeting with you today." She smirked as if she knew how close she had just come to a swift death.

Gaara stopped the sand that had been trickling onto the floor behind him and about to circle around to catch her unaware. If someone knew her plans, if she disappeared, he would be the prime suspect.

If he killed her anyway, he might have to go on the run. That would stop him from finishing the Triwizard Tournament and would probably stop Dumbledore from assisting him.

"If you print anything, I will kill you." Gaara tried a simple threat to see how she reacted.

"Oh, I'm sure you would like to. From everything I've heard, you've got quite the appetite for a bit of violence, don't you. But you can't risk hurting me."

Gaara grit his teeth. Magic was nothing short of frustrating. Normally, he could start tracking down a listening device or someone spreading his secrets, but magic meant that she could have found out in some unimaginable way. For all he knew, she just divined the truth.

He missed simple Jutsu. There were rules and limitations.

Nobody he could think of would have divulged so much. Perhaps she had read their minds, or she had… He really could not begin to guess. They seemed to make up this magic stuff as they went.

Gaara was leaning towards trying his luck on the run.

"Now, you don't have to worry about being exposed just yet. Once I start writing those stories, the Ministry is sure to come rushing in. First, I want your help in uncovering some other juicy morsels. As long as you give me access to those stories, I can continue editing your big reveal. I also want your account of things."

Gaara saw his opportunity here. He would be gone soon, and then no newspaper story could have any effect on him. It probably would not even impact Sirius, Draco or Luna then, since they could just deny anything this woman could not specifically prove.

So, he just needed to keep her happy until after the last Task when he would get the secret to getting home.

Or murder her.

Either way.

Through gritted teeth, Gaara asked, "What do you want to know?"

"That's the spirit!" Rita looked thrilled. "How about you tell me all about the Malfoy family's secrets. Now that Lucius Malfoy is back on the climb, I'm sure everyone would just love to hear some gossip." She said. "That should do for a start."

"Oh, and maybe the inside scoop about Sirius Black and his custody battle. I've been hearing that this is all because Mr Black's time in Azkaban had left him incapable of continuing the family line. Or maybe it's because of his close friendship with James Potter and notorious werewolf Remus Lupin."

Gaara's eyes bulged. He tried to take a calming breath but that had never worked. "Hurt my friends and you will die screaming." He said.

She continued to smirk down at him. "Oh, but don't forget-"

"In front of witnesses. I will hunt you down and kill you. You know who I am." He had no way of knowing how much she knew, but if it was even a fraction of the truth, she would know he was not lying. But he did not want to force her hand. "I will assist you after the Tournament."

Then he could run away and forget all about her.

Skeeter had been threatened by murderers before, more than once, so she was not shaken. But she knew when to exercise caution.

"Fine. I will wait until the end of the Third Task. Then, win or lose, you'll help me write the biggest story of the year."

Gaara nodded and turned to depart.

"Don't try to run away or weasel your way out of this, Gaara. I'll be watching. And I will be back soon."

Gaara left the ambitious journalist and went to the Library where he knew it would be quiet. He worried if he went to the forest, he might finally wipe out the last of the Acromantulas and maybe a good chunk of the other creatures. Shukaku was making some very convincing arguments.

So Gaara wanted to spend the evening in solitude lost in a book. Maybe he would go for some fiction.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Draco told himself not to be surprised when Gaara had disappeared. He hated crowds and Quidditch, so naturally he would have wanted to leave. But Draco still found himself feeling gutted when Gaara failed to reappear for the awarding ceremony or the victory party.

It had been Draco's moment, his evening of glory, and his best friend had not bothered to attend, even briefly.

Mr Black and Potter had come to congratulate him. Well, Mr Black said some nice things about his technique and told him he'd done a really good job, and Scarhead had the bare minimum grace to keep his big mouth shut. Mr Black had also admitted to losing track of Gaara just after Draco caught the Snitch. He wondered if he could take solace that at least his best friend stuck around long enough to watch him win.

Then mother and father approached. Father told him he had flown well and stopped there, and mother had clasped him on the shoulder, which was quite the show of affection in public, especially in front of someone like Potter. She said she was very proud of him, which made Draco feel better. Then people started speaking to each other.

"Oh, where has Gaara gone off to?" Lucius pantomimed looking around, which convinced nobody.

"He's not feeling well, poor lad." Sirius said, before following up with. "I think something upset his stomach. But it's nice to see you Lucius, new aftershave? It suits you."

The fact that Draco's father had actually just switched to a new aftershave was yet further proof that Sirius Black was the true king of pranking.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Sirius. You really must inform the Ministry. If he will be living with them this Summer, you might want to let them know about his dietary requirements."

Sirius frowned. "You needn't worry, Lucius. My custody case is only against the Ministry. Considering who works there, I don't think I have to worry too much about the case. Of course, that's just the rest of the Ministry, I'm sure your department is perfectly competent."

Lucius was about to take his turn when Narcissa cleared her throat subtly. Two confrontations in two days was a bit much.

"And I was so glad to hear that you and the Minister are on better terms again. I'm sure his box was just too full today, but you'll be with him for the Third Task, right?" Sirius got in another lick.

Draco's mother cleared her throat again, louder this time, and stared pointedly at Sirius before glancing at the children watching their ridiculous behaviour.

The tension was further diffused when a trio of impressive dignitaries passed by about ten feet away and all slipped quite impressively, their legs flying in the air like a chorus line as they fell on their backs. A clamour arose and people around them rushed to help them up, but nobody would have given it a second thought except for the loud clapping that echoed from the Weasley Twins, who had not been invited and who were still in the middle of high-fiving when McGonagall started storming towards them.

"Would you excuse us for a moment, cousin, we would like to congratulate dear Draco as a family while there's a lull."

Sirius smiled and said one insincere goodbye and two reasonably sincere ones.

As they left, Sirius and Harry watched McGonagall march the two interlopers out of the Great Hall, both of them trying to keep up with her brisk pace lest their ears be ripped off.

Sirius snorted. "Rookie mistake. Always leave before you celebrate."

Harry smirked. "I'm just glad she left before she caught you."

Sirius chuckled. Harry had seen him spiking the champagne with something to make the uppercrust twice as drunk as they should be. Despite what Sirius was telling the Ministry, he really was not much of a role model.

That particular stroke of genius was going to take another hour to become hilarious. Hopefully Minerva would still be punishing those promising young boys until then and would not come looking for the veteran prankster.

Lucius glanced around again. "Well, Draco, while sport is not becoming for someone of our station, if you absolutely must have participated, it is only proper you excelled."

Draco believed that was close as he was likely get to a full compliment from his father.

Narcissa smiled but didn't contribute. She would say more when there were not so many spectators to their family moment, but her smile told him enough.

"But it really is a shame that your little friend did not care enough to put up with a little discomfort to applaud you. I never took him for having a weak constitution. It really must have been terribly dire not to be here to support you. I dread to think what else might stop him from supporting you in the future."

It went unsaid that they had changed subject.

Lucius continued twisting the knife for another few minutes before a Ministry Department Head wandered too close and Lucius went to schmooze.

Narcissa gave him another shoulder squeeze and smile, telling him they would write.

Draco expected to receive at least two letters in the morning that he would need to respond to. There would also most likely be a new pile of letters from fans and others he did not intend to reply to.

Towards the edge of the party, Dumbledore was wondering when he qualified as old enough to be allowed to sit during these events. He was over a century old but if he was seen sitting too often, he knew he would be called infirm and he would end up spending more time fending off attacks from opportunists.

So, Albus and his sore knees would continue to stand.

He would stop by Poppy's office on his way to his rooms later to procure something for the swelling and pain. Though, he had to be careful there as well, as his trusted medi-witch had been brow-beating him into getting a cane for years.

Maybe he could pull off a staff. That might look appropriately magical and stately.

Albus took a sip of his champagne and enjoyed the buzz from the bubbly alcohol and the Inebriatory Potion Sirius had slipped in twenty minutes ago. He was a good lad, really. The effect of the potion would help people along in their party spirits, but it also crucially minimised the effects of hangovers.

Albus did not have the energy to indulge much these days, but he could enjoy the occasional evening of excess when the looming spectre of the hangover could be ignored. At his age, there always a chance that a severe hangover could finish the job that time started.

Speaking of dignified, Cornelius was approaching. They had spoken already this evening but apparently he warranted a second visitation. Albus tried not to let it go to his head.

"Cornelius, have you tried the champagne? It's especially delicious tonight." He took another sip.

Fudge nodded and signalled for his body-man to get him a flute. "Albus, you assured me that all of the children would be here tonight."

"I don't remember anything of the sort. I suggested a few of the seventh-years attend but I seem to recall you believed they might overcrowd the event so I instructed that they all retire to their Houses."

"That's not what I'm referring to. I mean the Champions!" Fudge stage-whispered.

"Ah, I see. You've noticed Gaara has had to leave early." Albus sighed.

"Yes, I noticed. How does it look when one of the Champions of this Tournament doesn't even bother to show up?"

"I'm afraid Gaara was feeling unwell. He did attend the match itself but large events like these tend to cause him… discomfort. I suggested that he should go have an early night." Albus said.

"A lot of good that does us. Two pictures of the boy looking bored during the Quidditch and a hundred of him missing the afterparty. We had an agreement, Albus."

"And I am doing my best to live up to that, Cornelius. But the welfare of the children must always come first."

"If he is so distressed by crowds, why in Merlin's name did he enter the Tournament?" Cornelius hissed.

"The motivations of children and teenagers have been a mystery to me since I was myself one a century ago."

"I won't have this again, Albus. We have one more Task to go and I won't have any more issues. He will attend the entire thing. By Merlin, I'll have him standing atop a float during the parade if he wins, am I clear?!"

If Albus minded being spoken down to by Fudge like this, he did not show it. He just dipped his head and said, "Of course, Minister. I will have a word with the boy."

"See that you do, or I will find someone else to do it." He swept away dramatically and Albus took another sip. He probably had another ten minutes before Minerva returned and warned him off of drinking any more of the spiked champagne.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Several hours later, Draco stumbled back to his room. He had been knackered by the end of the match, exhausted by the end of the party, and he did not know the word for how tired he felt after finally escaping from his Housemates, some of whom had claimed he was the second coming of Merlin.

Those claims might have been a ploy to keep the fourth-year in the common area for a bit longer, and it worked, he was ashamed to admit. He could hardly stand by the time he got to his room.

"I didn't think you would be here." Draco said as he slumped onto his bed, staring at the ceiling.

Gaara was sat cross-legged on his bed with a thick book in his hands. "Congratulations on winning." He offered simply.

Draco was… peeved. Fine. Time for him to have some fun.

"Before I forget, Gaara," He started, "what did you end up getting Luna for her birthday?"

Gaara paused his reading, Draco could tell. He just stared blankly at his copy of the collected works of Shakespeare.

"When was her birthday?"

Draco scoffed. "In February, you lout."

"I allowed her to embrace me, which she seemed to enjoy." Gaara concluded. He could not imagine topping that.

"That was for her help in the Second Task. You completely forgot her birthday and didn't get her anything. That's rather horrible of you."

Draco smiled to himself. Served Gaara right for being such a bad friend to both of them. He deserved to be tortured.

"And after she's always cared so much for you…" Draco rubbed it in.

Gaara looked pensive. Good.

Arse.

Gaara looked perplexed for several days after that, which Draco felt quite satisfied about.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Sirius liked that Remus still always visited on the day of full moons. Even if his friend was not on top form, Sirius appreciated the routine, and the house had seemed especially quiet lately. They talked about all sorts of things, including what Remus had been up to, but eventually they both circled back to Sirius's favourite subject, the boys.

Remus also suggested Sirius should once again consider getting a job or another hobby since his life seemed to be a little empty.

"Prongslet's not been sending me as many owls lately. I know he's a strong boy but he's worried about the Third Task."

"He's also a full-time student with friends around him. How many letters did you ever send home?" Remus said.

"Well, yes, but I'm much nicer than the people I would have been writing letters to. Not to mention that after my Sorting, it was made clear to me how much my mother and father wanted to hear from me."

"The occasional apology probably wouldn't have gone amiss." Remus muttered.

"For the scandalous outrage of not being a Snake?" Sirius asked.

"No, for all the trouble you got into. McGonagall probably sent at least a letter a week to them. I don't suppose they needed to hear directly from you to know your movements."

"Fine, take their side, why don't you." Sirius pretended to pout, helping himself to a bonbon. He did not bother offering lunch since Remus rarely ever ate on the day of the full moon.

"I got an owl from Gaara yesterday, actually." Remus said.

"You too?" Sirius laughed, looking at his side table to where the thing was still sitting. He had replied swiftly but this was definitely one to keep.

"Poor boy." Remus said. "Incredibly bright. Voracious reader. But absolutely no clue how to deal with witches."

"He's clearly been thinking about it for a couple of weeks. What did you suggest?" Sirius asked.

"Well, he said he was nearly two months late with it, so I suggested something big. Maybe a big gesture, like a picnic with just the two of them out by the Lake."

"Oh, nice one. I suggested a plush Bandit toy. I know someone who could make it and Luna would certainly like it." Sirius was proud of that suggestion.

"I doubt he'll take either seriously." Remus sighed with a smile.

"I don't know. Your picnic idea sounds nice, and he can pretend he was just waiting for the weather to get good enough – not that anyone in their right mind would believe him. Hopefully he involves Draco. I dread to think what he would think is a good picnic. Handing her a sandwich before leaving sounds about his speed." Sirius said.

"It's anybody's guess. His relationship with Luna fascinates me." Remus said.

"Likewise. Considering… well, you've seen how Gaara is around girls, especially Luna. I'd always thought he might be… you know…" He waved his hand.

"Gay?" Remus prompted.

Sirius's eyes went wide. "You don't have to go out and say it!" He set his drink down while he calmed himself.

Sirius was a lothario and notoriously open-minded, but he was raised very conservatively. These types of things went on all the time behind closed doors, he knew, but they were never ever talked about openly. That was one lesson from his childhood that had apparently stuck.

"I don't know why you're so put out." Remus smirked. He forgot how bashful Sirius got about things his considered scandalous. "Can't you just imagine how fun the Christmases would be? Your Malfoy in-laws visiting." He sniggered

"Merlin. Now there's a thought." Sirius took a swig of his drink. They both eventually laughed but agreed not to tease Gaara about it. Neither thought it was likely that Gaara felt that way about anyone, but they didn't want to make him feel self-conscious about it.

If a discrete bet was made, the boy need never know.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Harry remembered going to sleep, but here he was standing in the sinister and mysterious rundown house again. It was just as dank and unpleasant as he remembered when he was here last summer, watching that poor muggle man being murdered. That achingly familiar green spell.

And again, there was talking. He assumed it must be important so he tried to focus through the dreamlike haze.

Harry was in the hallway again, so he crept forward. He did not understand how any of this worked, but sneaking had served him well when he was a child hiding from the Dursleys and hopefully it would continue to keep him safe.

In the room at the end of the hallway, someone was talking loudly, manic. Harry peaked around the door and saw the ratty, half-rotted chair was facing the fireplace, which had a face sticking out of it.

He did not recognise them, their face distorted by the coal and fire, but they were addressing whoever was sat out of sight in the high-backed chair. To the side, there was a large man Harry didn't immediately recognise from behind.

"My Lord," the voice from the fire continued, "I've not been able to make another attempt on the Auror. The paranoid old coot is more alert than ever. He doesn't suspect me yet, but I will need to be more careful."

There was a long hiss from the chair, which could have been a sigh or a complaint.

"Dumbledore is a fool and he doesn't know a thing. Doesn't even suspect. You should have seen him, Master. After the Quidditch matches, he could barely even walk. If you were inclined towards mercy, another year or two and he will be dead anyway. But I know the only mercy you can grant is that of a swift death to your enemies. I won't presume to suggest such a thing for the old impediment."

Then next hiss might have been a laugh.

"Regarding the other matter, Master, I have indeed struck, just now. My father did not have a chance to report his suspicions, belated as they were. He was too late and now he is done for. Good riddance! And the traitor is well on his way as well. As you commanded, he was not granted your mercy. Both will be dead before the sun rises and they will serve as a warning when they are found by the schoolchildren in the morning."

The following hiss was definitely laughter. Harry did not need parseltongue to recognise that sadism. And the words that followed from whatever was sat there had the same chilling whisper that he remembered from the summer.

"Good… very good. You have served me well. I will no longer tolerate these incompetents and traitors to live. You, my true and faithful servants, must be prepared to snuff out any and all enemies. Just as Crabbe here did."

The big man next to the chair nodded quickly.

"With these latest obstacles cleared, we are one step closer to our goal. It is nearly time to remind the witches and wizards of this country what fear and power feel like."

Harry woke up in a panic and his mind was immediately alert. Someone was dying.

He jumped out of bed and ran for the door. He did not have time to try and wake Ron; that would cost him vital minutes.

He pulled out the Marauders Map and started scanning the main corridors, looking for anyone still up at whatever ungodly hour it was.

There were a couple of names near the Ravenclaw Tower but he thought they might be students doing things that seventh years tended to do away from their dorms late at night. He saw Snape patrolling down in the Dungeons, but it had not been Snape's voice in the fire, so once again he was not the villain. He saw Gaara wandering around as he usually did late at night because he couldn't sleep, as Sirius once explained.

There was one name that stood out to Harry. Igor Karkaroff had no reason to be in the halls this late at night, and he was staying still, on his own…

Harry ran in that direction and only took two wrong turns on his way, such was his urgency.

And in that urgency, Harry did not see what was on the floor in front of him and went flying when he tripped, sliding on the freshly polished stone.

He looked back with dread but he did not see Igor Karkaroff sprawled out on the floor, it was Bartemius Crouch. His eyes were open and his face frozen in shock. He was very much dead.

Harry looked back on his Map but he could not see any sign of Crouch. So the dead did not show up. In that case, where was the visiting Headmaster?

He climbed shakily to his feet, sore from his fall, and walked further the way he had been heading. He could see Karkaroff around the corner, by the wall. Harry had his wand drawn but he doused the Lumos spell. It was a cloudless night and there was a reasonable amount of light shining in through the windows. He did not want to signal that he was approaching.

For all he knew, Karkaroff was waiting around the corner to ambush him.

Except, as he slowly inched around the corner, wand trained at eye height, he did not find anyone waiting for him, just another shadowed corridor.

Harry re-lit his wand and looked back down at the Map. But there Karkaroff was, right in front of him. Was he invisible?

Harry pointed his wand threateningly and nearly cast a stunner downward when a cough made him jump a foot backwards.

Slumped down against the wall on the floor was the angry Headmaster, glaring up at Harry. He had blood running down his chin into his beard and he was shuddering. His breathing sounded ragged.

Harry wished they taught some form of healing spell because he felt helpless here.

"Headmaster Karkaroff!" Harry exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" Now was not the time to whisper.

Karkaroff glared at Harry, "Sa kohutav laps. Ta ütles mulle, et võin grupiga uuesti liituda, ja siis sain teada, kes ta tegelikult on." Harry had no idea what the man was saying or even what language he was speaking, only that it must have been important as he spat out a glob of blood. "Mu peremees naaseb ja ta hävitab kõik."

He coughed and opened his mouth again to speak and then his eyes rolled back and then he stopped.

Harry fell backwards onto his rear. He just saw someone die right in front of him. There were two dead bodies near him.

He needed to go and tell someone.

To his side, he could see a knife with such an ornate handle it had to be cursed or poisoned. He was not going to touch it.

Harry felt shaken. This was the first time since Quirrel. The second time he had seen someone die in front of him. Third if he counted the one he hardly remembered.

He stood up to find McGonagall or even Snape to… deal with this.

He knew where McGonagall's chambers were so he headed in that direction. He walked since they were already dead on the floor. He didn't need to run if they were dead.

He checked his Map and neither had names anymore.

It was too quiet. There was supposed to be panicking and running around when someone died.

Except last time he won the House Cup.

Harry tucked his Map away. He knew where he was going and it would not help him find his way back to where the names had already disappeared.

He had almost managed to push down the thoughts swirling around in his head so that all that was on his mind was walking to his Head of House.

The brave Gryffindor nearly yelped when something ran out in front of him. He almost thought it was a cat but it was too big.

When the creature ran by a window, the moonlight revealed the mysterious lunar animal that had been breaking into the castle for ages.

The thought returned to him. Maybe it was an animagus like Padfoot. So perhaps this was the culprit. Ron had said all along it was up to no good.

Unwilling to let this suspect get away, Harry gave chase, and not for the first time. He knew how it twisted its tail to turn sharply around corners, indicating which direction the creature was going to turn next. It always headed for the forest when it realised it was being pursued, so Harry cast stunners to steer it away from those exits.

Harry might not have trained for a while, but he was a born and bred Seeker.

It was this single-minded determination to escape outside that gave Harry inspiration. He kept chasing after the scrambling beast and managed to steer it in the direction of an upcoming exit. And then he cast a conjuration to summon a bed sheet over the exit ahead. He would have created a net but sadly nobody had ever thought to teach him how to make one. Mrs Weasley had been considerate enough to teach him some domestic spells, including conjuring sheets and pillow cases.

The animal yipped and jumped at the floating sheet, but instead of piercing through to freedom, it became tangled in the large sheet and flopped around on the ground, snarling and biting at the white sheet.

Harry approached cautiously, watching as it thrashed angrily under the thin but unyielding layer of magical cotton.

Harry was about to cast another stunning spell when the thing stopped moving. Harry's eyes were wide, watching for the slightest movement from the beast. But even in the improved early morning light, he could not see a twitch.

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A/N: This wasn't quite what I expected to happen, but my characters do like to surprise me by being in the wrong place at the right time now and then.

Who knows what will happen next…