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: Apologies for missing 2019 entirely with this fic. I said I would try to get the next chapter out faster, and instead it ended up being one of my longest hiatuses… A little over a year.

On the bright side, this has ended up coming out on Gaara's birthday (ish).

It was always in the back of my mind, but sadly the foreground was occupied with any number of other things. However, the kind comments and reviews I have received from friends and readers ensured this would be completed (albeit, slowly).

Please enjoy.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

(Last Time)

Upon returning to the class, someone (whose face Draco committed to memory and to his list of enemies) piped up, "Kiss and made up, have we?"

The soft laughter that bubbled up and quickly died made Draco blush but did not stop his retort. "Not everyone is so interested in kissing boys as you are."

This caused a round of childish 'ooohs' but nothing more came of it. Still, Draco's blush stayed. He knew there had been a couple of rumours running amok about the nature of his and Gaara's relationship but this was the first time anything had been said in front of him. He needed to find a girlfriend soon or else everyone would think it was true.

He looked to see if Gaara had been at all affected by the crude joke but the moronic redhead was currently being harassed by the Beauxbaton Pegasi that Hagrid had brought out to show the class.

As Gaara ducked the horse faces that were trying to greet him, he was reminded that while he had apparently sorted his issues with Draco for the moment, he still had the three remaining letters in his pocket to deal with.

And it wasn't even noon.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Harry was having a hell of a time. And not in the good way.

That was the best way by which one could describe it. Hell.

He had certainly been noticed before, as soon as he had returned to the magical world. So it wasn't the fame of the situation that was causing him this distress. Nor was it was the infamy. He had been even more reviled in his second year when everybody thought he was the murderous heir of Slytherin.

What he hated about this was that, for the first time, everyone thought he wanted the fame (and infamy). He had apparently brought it all on himself. That was what Harry's best friend had said. And if that was what Ron had felt comfortable enough saying to his face, Harry dreaded to think what was being said behind his back, though he had no doubt he would soon overhear such sentiments from his less than subtle peers.

Possibly worse than that even, the Twins had apparently started a betting pool for the Tournament and Harry was in last place by a wide margin. So…everyone thought he was a glory hound and a cheater, and yet they all thought he was going to lose anyway!

At least Hermione was sticking by him, even if she had asked him if he really didn't enter four or five times.

"And you're sure you didn't wander past and throw a scrap of paper into the fire with your name on it? I've seen you do that before."

"I swear, Herm, I didn't!" Harry was glad she had moved on from her speculations that he might have sleep-walked.

"I'm sorry! I just don't understand how it could have happened. The Goblet was under guard the whole night and it's a really powerful magical artefact, Harry."

"Then how do you think I'm supposed to have enchanted it?!"

"That's why I believe you. There's just no way you could have enchanted it."

"Thanks…" Harry did not appreciate that his ignorance was his only and greatest defence. "So much for trust."

"Oh come on, Harry. I don't mean it like that and you know it." She said. "But this is more empirical. If there's no way you could have entered, then there's no doubt."

"Do you know what really upsets me?" He asked rhetorically.

Hermione, never one to pass up a question, rhetorical or not, said, "That limerick written about you on the wall in the second floor girls toilets?"

"What!? No. It… It's that Gaara got off scot-free. I'm being accused of being a dark lord again and there's Gaara being called Hogwarts' 'real' Champion. He's not that much stronger than I am, if at all. So why's everyone so sure he's the one the Goblet would have chosen fairly?"

"Well, aside from your relative strengths, which is not the most important factor here, I suspect what's made the biggest difference in people's minds is that Gaara's name came out of the Goblet with Viktor Krum's and that Delacour girl's. Yours came out later, and more explosively."

"That's it? Because he came first? I was here for two years before he showed up."

"It's not about how well people know you. If it were, nobody would think much of Gaara at all. He's a complete mystery. But no one is inclined to question what they saw. Your name came out after everyone else's and it was different. And then there's the fact that Gaara admits that he entered the Tournament. Everyone saw him enter fair and square."

"What do you mean 'admits'? I told you, I didn't enter!" Harry was fast losing his temper about this.

"I'm sorry! I just mean… well, it doesn't look good, does it, Harry?"

"I still haven't been able to find out what that's all about, anyway."

"What's what about?"

"Why Gaara entered. You of all people must have noticed how strange it is for Gaara to enter. Of all the things for him to do." Harry said.

"Of course I noticed. But there's still so much we don't know about him."

"Another mystery to add to your Gaara notebook." Harry almost managed a smile but it came out looking more like grimace.

Hermione flushed indignantly. "It's not a notebook, it's a single page. And how can I not be interested? I come from the muggle world, my parents are dentists, and then I come to a magical school because I'm a witch. I learn magic, I watch miracles and other wonderful feats everyday for years. And yet someone like Gaara shows up and he's still an oddity."

"An oddity?"

"I don't mean to sound rude. It's just that there's this whole world of magic that's secret from muggles, and yet even if everyone here know about magic and mystical creatures, there's still someone like him who can show up and no one knows anything about him."

"Witches and wizards don't know everything in the world. Whatever spell Gaara uses with his sand, or whichever country he's from, it's no different from any other foreign exchange student. We had one in year five at my primary school. Hans, from Germany. He didn't like it very much because everyone was mean to him."

"Everyone? Harry, you didn't, did you?"

"No, of course I wasn't. I never went near him. He seemed nice and I didn't want to make it worse for him. Dudley and his gang always went after anyone who was nice to me."

"You make him sound like a criminal mastermind." She smiled.

"Despite what you would see on his end of term reports, Dudley did have areas where he excelled. Just a shame they're all about being a bully."

"What happened to Hans?"

"Oh, he started crying all the time and then the teacher said he went home early. After that, if you cried, you were called Hans. He left his mark on the school."

"So you think Gaara is like Hans?"

"Well, I can't imagine him crying, or being homesick, to be honest, but a little like him, yes."

"But Harry, there's not been an exchange or a transfer at Hogwarts-"

"For a long time, I know, but there's not been a Triwizard Tournament in ages either. What I mean is that lots of strange things happen in the wizarding world. Gaara's just one of them."

Hermione hummed in thought but did not disagree. That was as close as she ever got to admitting he might have a point in one of their not-arguments.

"What's Sirius said about all of this?" Hermione asked.

"He's being great about all of it. He says he believes that I didn't enter and he's trying to get the Ministry to let me out of the Tournament."

"He won't be able to. Fudge has been doing interviews almost around the clock since the selection and he's said that all four of you will be taking apart. No matter what."

"I know, I think I'm beginning to accept that I can't get out of this. But what I meant was that he's trying to help however he can."

"Well, I'm glad. He's been awfully nice ever since we found out he wasn't trying to murder you."

"Yes, he's great. I just wish he wouldn't keep bringing Gaara up in his letters."

"What did he want to know?"

"Same as everyone else. Why Gaara entered. Told him I know as much as he does. It's not like Gaara and I ever talk to each other."

"But you're both Sirius's wards!"

"I suppose, but Gaara's more like Sirius's friend. Anyway, aren't we going to be late for our lesson?"

Hermione didn't even look at the nearby clock. "No, we've got six minutes."

Harry sighed. They continued their slow walk down to the Dungeons and it was honestly the first time Harry had ever wanted to arrive at Potions early, although he often did so anyway to avoid point deduction and detentions when he was even one second late.

And he certainly did not need to lose his House any points to earn their scorn. No matter how much Hermione might try to distract him with infuriating conversations, he could not ignore the glares being directed towards him any more than he could ignore the sixth-year Hufflepuff who nearly knocked him over when their shoulder collided.

"Watch it, cheater!" They said before continuing onwards, having made their point abundantly clear.

"Oy! Watch where you're going!" Harry yelled at their back before turning back to Hermione when no fighting commenced. Honestly, at this stage, that might have been a relief. Anything would be preferable to passive aggression from the entire school.

Sometimes, outright aggression was called for.

Hermione tugged him away from giving chase. The last thing, she decided, that Harry needed right now was detention for starting fights.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

The day had been a blur since their apparent reconciliation about half a mile from Care of Magical Creatures. Then again, appearances could be deceiving, especially when a shinobi was involved. Draco wanted just a little while to relax, to pretend that the Tournament wasn't happening, that he hadn't had to endure the last full moon, to pretend that he didn't know that Gaara was still lying to him.

After confessing collusion with Dumbledore, anybody else might have assumed there could be no more big secrets and let the matter rest. Instead, Draco knew he had found the tip of the iceberg. What still remained underwater scared him but he knew discovering it for himself was the only way he would ever be able to trust his best friend.

So, no matter what Draco wanted to be thinking about that day, he still felt the same doubts.

Gaara could tell something was still upsetting Draco, that the truth of his deal with Dumbledore had not closed the matter, but at least the blond was acting like he had calmed down.

The rest of the school, on the other hand, were anything but calm. The novelty of Gaara's new Champion status had evidently not faded yet, since any number of them had approached him with some sort of expectation of familiarity or shared purpose. As if he had bought into the school spirit and had entered his name to make them all proud.

This resulted in an all-time high for smiles directed at him and attempts at non-violent bodily contact.

He was willing to accept a certain level of notoriety and peril that came with entering the Tournament, it would be worth the rewards, but he would not stand for this change in atmosphere.

Maybe he should hurt someone?

He shouldn't kill an innocent, but maiming a student would earn him some peace. Although, he'd been given the impression that harming a student might get him expelled, which would now prevent him from participating and from getting help from the old man.

The same was probably true for attacking a professor. And he had just the one in mind…

In any case, he needed to find another method of ending this barrage of friendliness. Being popular was overrated, as he had told his siblings many times when they promised his changed character would one day result in it.

Aside from the wider student body and the ongoing problems with Draco, there was one other human issue Gaara was currently faced with.

Potter had tried to corner him twice today already. Gaara had noticed Sirius' godson following him multiple times, and was presumably trying to catch Gaara alone so they could talk. The redhead had no interest in that whatsoever, so he had made sure to lose his tail both times.

Undoubtedly, he would need to deal with Potter at some point, since something was obviously amiss, but that was a problem for another time.

Whatever had caused Potter to enter or be entered into the Tournament was an issue but Gaara didn't think it was really his problem. He would try and keep Potter alive in the Tasks, if he was able, but he'd just as soon skip the wild conjecture phase of this mystery.

With all of this drama going on, Gaara did find one solace. The professors were clearly under orders from someone (probably Dumbeldore) to ignore the elephant in the room and focus on teaching their classes. Considering the buzz amongst the rest of the school, the teachers' conspicuous evasion of the subject looked to be a struggle.

In DADA, questions were asked about good self-defence spells, with more than one person glancing back at Gaara expectantly. In History of Magic, several tried to ask about past Tournaments only to be regaled with unending anecdotes about the Goblins' disdain for wizarding tournaments. Even in Potions, someone asked about elixirs to increase strength and speed. Snape gave the well-meaning student a week's worth of detention for disrupting the class, and told all of them to focus on the lesson, not on other distractions.

Transfiguration, with the Slytherins and the Gryffindors together, went similarly, although, as with any lessons shared between them today, it was a tense affair. The two Champions sat at opposite ends of the classroom like they usually did, but that seemed to take on new meaning now that they were competing against one another.

Or, at least, that was how it looked.

Gaara knew that people were continuing to watch him, and now their number included Potter, but at least McGonagall was still acting professionally. Granted, after the second student lost House points asking for Triwizard Tournament tips, she stepped outside for five minutes. Gaara did not think he had ever seen her so angry. When she returned, she had calmed herself, and immediately went back to teaching.

As soon as McGonagall called the lesson to an end, Gaara was straight out of the door. Harry kicked his chair in frustration when he couldn't get past the collected students to give chase, and then glanced around to see if anyone noticed. Fortunately only Hermione.

Ron had been avoiding Harry almost as effectively as Gaara had that morning, but Harry was perfectly happy with it that way. If Ron said one more word about Harry or the Tournament, Harry wouldn't be held accountable for which spells left his wand.

Harry glanced at Professor McGonagall as he waited for the way to clear so he and Hermione to leave. One of Harry's favourite professors, it was unsettling to see McGonagall's composure slip as it had earlier.

"I heard she threatened to quit, you know." Hermione whispered in his ear.

Harry spun around to look at her. "What?!"

Hermione shushed him. It wasn't very discrete to be gossiping about their Head of House while she was still in the room so she grabbed Harry's wrist and dragged him through the last stragglers and out of the door.

When they finally came to a quiet alcove, he repeated, "What? McGonagall's leaving?" That was the last thing he needed right now.

"No. I said she threatened to leave. According to Misty Albrove in sixth year, who heard from Florence Rae, who-"

"It doesn't matter." Harry cut her off. She'd end up naming half of the sixth year of the school if left uninterrupted. "What did you hear?"

"Well, rumour is that Professor McGonagall packed her things last night and tried to resign but Professor Dumbledore managed to convince her to stay."

Harry glanced back into the corridor and saw McGonagall leaving in the opposite direction. "You don't think she'll still leave, do you?"

"I hope not, Harry." She said.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Fleur wished she was back home or at Beauxbattons. France was much more forgiving of teenagers having the occasional glass of wine, and those two places only offered the best vintages. Hogwarts had positively draconian rules in place, absolutely forbidding anyone not a professor from having so much as a snifter of wine. And the only thing the students could offer her behind closed doors was some vile whisky of some sort.

They thought she wanted to get drunk. Just how uncouth these British pupils were would never cease to amaze.

On the other hand, from what she had smelled of the wines they served to the professors here, maybe she would be better off waiting until she returned to France.

"Thank you for coming." Viktor Krum said as he firmly closed the classroom door behind him.

"Not at all. A small courtesy extended to a fellow Champion." She said dismissively.

In truth, she had been a little nervous about this, considering Durmstrang's reputation. She had taken the precaution of asking two friends to wait in an adjacent room and if Fleur called for them, they would hear her without interference from the walls or doors between them. "So, why have you called me here? And why not the other two?"

"It is about Hogwarts' champions that I want to speak."

"Of course it is. It seems to be all anyone wishes to speak of."

"What is your opinion about this?" He asked.

"Did you really call me here alone to hear my opinion on those two boys?"

"I want only a fair opportunity to bring honour to my school and my country. I do not wish for the Tournament to be ruined by these people."

"You think it is a plan by the British?" She asked.

"You do not?"

"I think that Potter boy looked awfully surprised. As did his professors and Ministry officials. If they did plan this, they are all very good actors." She said.

"Maybe it was this Gaara that cheated his way in." Krum said.

"Of the two of them, I think he is probably the stronger. I have heard stories of him since coming here."

"I have too. I cannot believe all of them."

"Even if only some of them are true, he may be strong enough to compete, despite his size." She said.

"He is short and skinny." Krum said dismissively. Gaara was fierce, that much anybody could see, but whether that was backed up by strength had yet to be proven. "And he wears makeup."

"I wear makeup. Are you saying I am weak?" Fleur said, her infamous temper rearing its head ever-so-slightly at the suggestion.

"That is not what I mean. A boy who spends so much time dying his hair and applying makeup is not spending enough time becoming stronger." Krum said.

"The stories about Durmstrang being stuck in the Dark Ages are true, it seems!" She mock-gasped. "And I have preparations to make. If I want to gossip about the other Champions, I might do so with my friends. Unless you have something more important to share, I think I will be on my way."

"You are not concerned?" Viktor said, uncaring about any offense he might have inadvertently caused.

"Concerned? They are young. You should be more concerned about my performance than theirs, if you wish to win the Tournament." She smirked.

"I will win this Tournament with no trouble, unless someone cheats." He said.

"The arrogance! I will beat you and I will take great satisfaction when you must admit no cheating was required." She sped over to the door, her mood now ruined. "Please, do not ask to meet me alone again unless you have something of importance to discuss."

Viktor did not respond to that, he just watched her storm out, wondering whether this meeting might have done more harm than good. He might have just upset a potential ally, and made no progress in dealing with the Britons' deceit.

He waited until Delacour and her hidden friends departed before leaving. He would have to report this failure to Headmaster Karakoff. That would be unpleasant. He would also need to start planning a new strategy to counter the advantage Hogwarts had, now that an alliance with Delacour was out of the question.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

"You really can't trust anyone, can you…" Came a high voice from behind Draco. He turned to glance at the person who would dare interrupt his sandwich, only to find Mafalda Lavado stood there smiling at him.

Draco sighed and turned back to his lunch. This was what he got for eating lunch alone. Gaara was off hiding somewhere, avoiding his much-deserved and equally lamented fame, and Draco did not feel like sitting with the others just now. The moderates were out somewhere, and Draco did not care enough to chase them down right now.

The rest of Slytherin were still doing their best to ingratiate themselves with him, to get to Gaara, but luckily his housemates were refined enough to give him some peace while he was in the middle of eating.

And then there was Lavado…

He took a small bite of his cucumber sandwich and considered the best way to get her to go away. Being rude, as he might be to a Weasley, had not worked previously. Tactfully implying that he would appreciate if she left him alone, as he would to any other Slytherin, had not worked. This unholy mixture of Weasley stock and Slytherin had yielded horrible results

So, what was he to do?

He couldn't curse her. There were too many witnesses. Gaara was nowhere to be seen, so there would be no scaring her off.

With a heavier sigh, as she started to circle around to sit next to him, he wondered if he would just be better off just giving in and going out with her for a while. It would silence some of those slanderous rumours about Gaara and he.

He glanced at Lavado again as she tried to enter his line of sight with her widest smile. He knew even the pretence of affection for her would be a mistake the moment he noticed she was trying to slip something into his pumpkin juice. Great… there went his drink. In case she was a more capable sneak than this attempt indicated, Draco set aside his sandwich as well.

If he wasn't going to eat, he might as well leave. He had found an interesting book on the links between Potions and Alchemy in the library last week and he wanted to finish it before his next Potions lesson.

"Where are we going?" Lavado said next to him.

"Nowhere. I am leaving and you are either staying or leaving in another direction."

"Now, now, Draco, that's hardly a gentlemanly way to talk to a lady." She admonished him with a smile.

Draco smiled back. "That would only apply if I were talking to a lady. You are far from a lady. I have tried to rid myself of you politely but you have either ignored or been ignorant to these attempts. In any case, now I am left with only one way to stop you from following me."

"Oh, and what would that be?" She smiled at him, confident that she could safely continue her campaign of harassment.

"It's quite simple, really. All I need to do is wander somewhere where there's no one else around and then I can curse you to my heart's content." When she stopped in her tracks and looked at him with deep offense written all over her pinched face, he continued, "Surely you know, accidents happen all the time in this castle."

"You wouldn't…" She said, frowning. Her unsettled expression smoothed into confidence again, "If you tried anything, I could tell Professor Snape and you'd get expelled."

"While I doubt Professor Snape would believe you, my father would see to it that I would be fine. You on the other hand…" Draco's imperious look had the desired effect and Lavado took a step back.

"This isn't over, Draco." She said, backing off and finally leaving him in peace.

Draco tried to ignore what was almost certainly bluster but, after threatening the girl's safety, her continued determination to acquire him seemed a lot more predatory. He would have to doubly careful of her and any further attempts to dose him with either sedatives or love potions.

Maybe if he hooked up with someone else, it would serve to scare Lavado off and quell those scandalous rumours. But who?

He was just out of the Great Hall but he didn't want to risk turning to look back in at any prospective pursuits, lest he catch the eye of his own pursuer.

He had not been the most active in seeking out a romantic partner but with this recent unwelcome attention and some other factors in his personal life, maybe it was time he started looking in earnest.

In the meantime, however, he had a book to finish.

"Look at him swanning out." Goyle said with utter scorn.

"Let him. Soon he'll be the one skulking around." Crabbe said, matching his partner's tone.

The pair were sat at the end of the table, past the first years and other undesirables. Their open opposition to Malfoy and to Gaara had left them with very few allies in Slytherin and their only route to survival had been obscurity for the time being.

There were still those in the House who silently supported the two, who were some of the only ones still championing the blood purity cause. Nearly everybody else had turned blood traitor by ignoring blood purity or turning a blind eye to those who did.

It was all Gaara's fault. The freak was powerful, popular and didn't like people exercising their right as purebloods over the half bloods and mud bloods, so no one wanted to say anything against them. No one but Crabbe and Goyle. They hadn't forgotten what their parents told them, nor what was expected of them. They wouldn't pretend and make nice with the scum, they would stay true to their culture and their heritage!

Besides, before long, they would be on top again. And this time, they wouldn't have to traipse after Malfoy. He would be so lucky to be allowed to follow them.

The Dark Lord did not suffer blood traitors lightly. Malfoy would join the other freaks, failures, and traitors in enduring the Dark Lord's wrath.

Neither of them could wait to see Malfoy and Gaara crushed under their heels, and the return of the real Slytherin.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Well, Gaara knew Potter would make contact with him eventually, but he wasn't sure how to feel about this method. On the one hand, not having to deal with Potter or his cronies in person was a welcome relief, but sending Luna like she was a carrier pigeon seemed objectionable.

But then, how could he object to the act if he wished to continue avoiding Potter. A logical trap, then, perhaps?

Smart move, Potter.

"What did he want you to tell me?"

"He asked me to tell you that he wants to meet to discuss the Tournament soon. You also need to decide on your shared tickets for the Tasks." Luna said. If nothing else, she didn't seem to take offense at being used as a messenger.

Gaara nodded, accepting the message but holding no intention of doing what Potter wanted. He couldn't think of anything less pressing than discussing the allocation of tickets for spectators to come and watch him compete.

He had expected Luna to depart when she had passed on the message but when she made no move to leave, he did instead. It was a nice day, one of the few fair weather days left before the long, Scottish winter set in fully, and he wanted to take the opportunity to train outside before it got too cold.

As he walked out towards the forest, he noticed Luna was following him. "I'm going to train." He wouldn't be 'hanging out' or chatting with her, so there was no point in her coming.

"Yes, I want to watch." She said easily.

"Oh, okay." He responded, continuing on.

It seemed strange to him, wanting to watch him train, but he didn't understand a lot of what motivated Luna so he went along with it. It wouldn't hurt anybody for Luna to sit and watch, so long as she did nothing to distract him.

He focussed primarily on consciously controlling the movement of his sand. He was perfectly proficient at using a blunt wave of sand to crush people, but he wanted to improve his control over smaller amounts. There was no reason why a tendril of sand as thick as a finger couldn't be used just as effectively to pierce an enemy's defences but he couldn't maintain its shape firmly enough.

So, he needed to practice.

Luna watched him for over an hour as he created slithers of sand and attempted to drive them into a thick tree. He did the same action dozens and dozens of times. His dedicated attention was quite interesting to observe in and of itself, but long before that hour elapsed, Luna had taken to reading from the book she had brought with her.

After a while, he had to switch trees as the precise area he had been targeting with each strike was now a mess of pulped tree bark and sap. Seeing the break in the monotony, Luna decided now might be the best time to speak.

"Gaara, would you like to practice some spells while we're out here as well?"

Gaara looked at her suddenly, as if he had actually forgotten she was sat there. "No, why?"

"Aside from your lessons, would it not be helpful to know some spells for the Tournament?"

"I will use my sand." Gaara said. He did not need to use magic, which was just as well since he was about as skilled in magic as Draco was at physical activity.

"That's a shame." Luna said with a smile, sitting back against the damp tree hollow and resuming her book while Gaara continued working on his sand control.

Not longer after that, Gaara's concentration was interrupted, not by Luna who was still contentedly studying nearby, but by Draco who stormed into the clearing and dropped his book back heavily with a huff.

Gaara, used to his roommates dramatics, didn't stop his movements.

Draco realised Gaara wouldn't stoop to asking what was wrong, so he started, "I knew I'd find you in one spot or another around here. As regularly as I end up following you out here, you'd never think that this is called the Forbidden Forest." He said.

Gaara didn't react but Luna did pipe up, "Actually, Draco, it's called the Dark Forest, or Coille Torc. Students only started calling this the Forbidden Forest since Professor Dumbledore banned students from entering it when he first became the Headmaster in '66."

"Thank you, Ravenclaw." Draco hissed. "And it's not much of a ban. It's easier to come out here than it is to get into our House." He said.

"I've heard most students aren't allowed to come out here. Professor Hagrid is in charge of stopping them."

"Well, that explains it! No wonder it's so easy with that oaf in charge of keeping people out."

"I've heard that it's really very difficult to sneak out. And we aren't very secretive when we come out, as well." Luna said, perplexed. "You don't suppose Professor Hagrid lets us come out here because we're here with Gaara, do you?"

"I don't need Gaara to walk around these woods. They're not frightening at all." Draco said belligerently. He was in a foul mood after his encounter with Lavado earlier and he was spoiling for a fight. The problem was that his only options out here were Lovegood, who was aggravatingly logical and wouldn't be drawn into an actual argument, and Gaara who was ignoring them both.

Of course, he was more or less used to dealing with Lavado after months of rebuffing her unwanted advances, but what had ensured Draco's bitter mood was that Potter had had the gall to walk right up to him and try and get him to do him a favour. Potter had been trying to talk to Gaara for days and it had been funny at first, seeing him fail at every turn, but for his nemesis to approach him (with Granger in tow) and ask where Gaara was… it was unimaginable.

Draco really missed having lackeys. They were great for keeping the riffraff at bay. Potter wouldn't have dared walk up to him if he still had his muscle, and Lavado wouldn't have had half the opportunities to harass him if he always had people around him like he used to. Even if he couldn't stand his previous company, they did have their uses. Gaara wasn't nearly reliable enough to be a lackey, and Draco wasn't actually the centre of attention when he was with the moderates so they probably wouldn't swarm around him either.

The burden of surrounding oneself with equals…

Then again, Draco had rebuffed Lavado quite effectively on his own earlier, and he had entertained himself by directing Potter up to the Astronomy Tower, where he was 'sure' Gaara would be.

Seeing that Luna didn't want to debate and Gaara, who had been patiently putting up with the distractions surrounding him, was still ignoring them, Draco decided to do likewise and make the most of the rare sunny November day. He might as well get some homework done as well, while he was out here.

The three of them stayed out there until the sun began to sink towards the horizon and the already low temperature plummeted. They headed in and parted ways to go to their dormitories, with Luna smiling all the while.

Draco and Gaara sat for dinner after the blond dragged his friend out of the Dungeons. Gaara had 'whined' that he wasn't hungry and that he would only be pestered in the Great Hall. Draco listened to no excuses and told Gaara to suck it up, in a much more polite manner, of course.

"Mother asked me to ensure you eat regularly. Never mind that I've got a hundred other concerns weighing on my mind, no~ I've got to mind you." Draco complained as they sat at the table.

Gaara stared at him and stayed quiet. Even if Draco seemed to be in a bad mood, at least he was talked to Gaara about it. It was annoying but Gaara knew from experience that it was often better to hear harsh words than no words at all.

Still, despite this inadvertent morsel of wisdom that Gaara had stumbled upon, he knew his best move was to stay quiet and leave Draco to it. No matter the personal growth Gaara had undergone, it would be a long while before he knew the right thing to say in any social situations.

"Honestly, I would start to worry if father began asking after you in his letters as well. All he's been asking about lately is who's been visiting the school and such." Draco went on.

Gaara picked at his plate and avoided looking around in case he caught someone's eyes and that somehow implied permission to enter into conversation with him. He would eat what little food he'd added to his plate and leave as soon as Draco would allow him. Draco's family originated in France and they seemed to maintain the French dining tradition of stretching meals into two or three hour social experiences. On the other hand, Gaara would be content with fifteen minutes and something bitter and easy to eat.

Gaara tuned back in to what Draco was talking about now in case he needed to nod. "-and apparently now one of the other peacocks is starting to get ill. Honestly, you wouldn't believe what the upkeep on peacocks costs! It's outrageous. Father started keeping them when he first took over the family and they've been nothing but trouble ever since! But whenever I- Potter, what do you want?"

Gaara looked up slowly. There was Potter, standing as close to the Slytherin table as he was ever likely to have stood.

Harry stood his ground next to the snake pit, ignoring the glares that all of the Slytherins (including Gaara) were sending his way. At least they weren't actually hissing at him, as had been known to happen, particularly since he became the infamous false Champion.

"Did you hear me, Potter? I said, what are you doing here? I thought it was your eyes, not your hearing, that didn't work."

Harry took note that apparently Malfoy hadn't appreciated being approached earlier that day. Well, Harry would be lying if he said he was devastated to think that they would not become closer because of their shared acquaintance with Gaara.

"We need to talk, Gaara." He said, ignoring Malfoy entirely. He didn't think anything he could say to the blonde prig would lead to anything but an argument.

Everyone was watching now, not just the glaring Slytherins but the other Houses and the visitors from the other schools. Conversation didn't die but it did go a bit quieter as people waited to hear Gaara's response.

Gaara considered his response for a few moments before sending his sand out and writing, 'We can talk after dinner.'

Harry read the response and said, "Fine. Wait in an empty classroom and I'll come and find you." Harry would use the Marauder's Map to find Gaara, and this way no one else would know where they were meeting so they wouldn't be disturbed or spied upon.

Gaara nodded, retracted his sand into his small gourd and went back to staring at his plate.

Harry walked away, trying not to show his back to the Slytherins who were only hesitating to jinx him because of the number of witnesses.

Once Potter had departed and people started talking more loudly again, with a great many discussing what this interaction would likely mean in the upcoming Tournament, Draco turned to Gaara and quietly said, "You wrote that out in sand because you forgot you can speak again, didn't you?"

Gaara didn't answer that.

It was not the first time Gaara had forgotten this fact and Draco thought it was ridiculous that it affected Gaara's life so little, to not be able to speak and then to regain that ability. "And why on Earth did you agree to meet up with Potter?"

"I can't avoid him forever." Apparently. "It was becoming tiresome." Gaara said.

"You're a quitter. You could have at least continued avoiding him for another week or two. It's been driving him barmy. That's a worthy cause if ever I've heard one." Draco said.

Again, Gaara rightly avoided pointing out how immature Draco's feud with Potter seemed at their age. Besides, he'd done the right thing in agreeing to meet Potter after dinner. This way, since Potter would presumably want to obey the curfew, which didn't affect Gaara, it would place a time limit on their interaction.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

As Gaara stood waiting in the empty classroom after dinner, he did wonder how Potter intended to find him. He would ask him when he arrived, but Gaara had found that the answer to the majority of his questions seemed to end up being 'magic' and Gaara wasn't really interested in the specifics of that subject.

Draco had asked if Gaara wanted him to attend, as 'back up', or to wait nearby in case Gaara needed any help, but Gaara politely declined. He didn't mention that he doubted Draco wouldn't be much help in an instance where Gaara couldn't handle things himself. Not to mention that he very much doubted that Potter would be the one to push Gaara that far.

The door opened and Harry stepped in, turning and closing the door again without a word to Gaara. When he finally turned to look at Gaara, he looked upset.

Had Gaara done something to annoy him already? Gaara was fairly sure he didn't have any sort of expression on his face, and he was standing still. What could it be?

"At least you actually showed up." Harry said, frowning. Gaara stayed quiet. "I've been trying to talk to you since the selection, why have you been avoiding me?"

Oh, that's what this was about.

"What do you want?" If Potter's bad mood was just more drama and nothing relevant, Gaara would happily skip it. He was impatient to leave.

Harry seemed a little shocked that Gaara was quite so unrepentant but he gathered his wits and continued, "I want to know why you've been avoiding me so much lately." Harry has been beginning to suspect that Gaara was secretly much more competitive than everyone thought.

"You're too loud and intrusive. You annoy me." Gaara said calmly.

Harry wasn't surprised by the blunt insult. Gaara and he didn't like each other, and Gaara lacked the Slytherin tact that might have concealed that distaste, or at least lessened its impact through political language.

"Fine, whatever." Harry sighed. "But why did you enter the Tournament? You obviously don't care about fame and I can't imagine you're trying to get rich."

Gaara looked at Potter and tried to discern whether the irony of asking intrusive questions right after being told off for intruding upon the private lives of others had occurred to him.

Evidently not.

Gaara didn't feel like giving Potter a false answer, and he certainly didn't intend to tell him the real reason, so Gaara instead asked his own question, "How were you entered into the Tournament? Do you have any ideas of who entered you?"

"You don't think I entered?" Harry was so surprised that he didn't notice the evasion.

"No."

"But all those rumours about me and stuff…"

"Yes, I believe Draco has been helping those to spread. I'm not interested in rumours." There were more than enough rumours about Gaara at the school.

"Oh, well, okay then, I suppose. I don't know who put my name in the Goblet of Fire. I half expected it to be Malfoy but I'm not so sure anymore."

"It wasn't Draco, as far as I know."

"It could have been Snape." Harry offered.

"I doubt it." Gaara said. Snape clearly hated them both, but the crooked-nose man rarely let his hatred manifest outside of the Potions laboratory. This would have been a significant escalation.

"Then who?" Harry asked, desperately hoping Gaara might have a convincing theory.

"I don't know." He didn't. Truth be told, he'd had to ask Draco before he could be relatively sure it wasn't him.

Harry spent a moment brainstorming who might have been involved, but all he could come up with was a vague 'dark witch or wizard who wants to do me harm'. He elected to keep that less-than-revelatory information to himself.

"By the way, since we're here, you need to write back to Padfoot." Harry felt uncomfortable stepping into the middle of that matter but his godfather seemed to be losing what little mind the dementors left him because he was so worried about the Tournament. Gaara ignoring his letters was not helping.

Gaara knew he'd forgotten something. He'd gone through his class schedule looking for the assignment he'd neglected to complete and he'd even asked Draco if he could think what it might be. He supposed he ought to write to Sirius tonight, then. Lest he forget again.

"Is that all?" Gaara asked. It was cold and the warming charms on his robes only did so much to stave of the night-time chill. Gaara turned to leave before receiving a response.

"No! Hold on a minute." Harry was getting angry again. "What about the tickets?"

"Tickets?"

"For the first Task. Remember? We have to split the tickets between us. Two family members and four friends in all."

"I don't need any tickets." Gaara was confused. They would both be participating, surely they wouldn't need tickets to get in.

"What about Malfoy, and that Ravenclaw girl you're friends with?"

"What about them?"

"Don't you want them to come and watch?" Harry had been worried this might devolve into an argument because Gaara wanted more than half of their allocation. Instead, Harry was trying to persuade the idiot to take his share, and give one to Malfoy of all people!

Gaara understood now. And while he was not bothered whether those two were there to watch him or not, he knew Draco would be expecting to attend.

"Okay." He said.

Harry sighed. He'd almost thought he would have to fill two more seats. He dreaded to imagine how every Gryffindor would scramble to convince him to give them one of the well-placed seats. He'd have given one to Neville probably...

He was getting distracted and Gaara was liable to disappear if he thought he could.

"What about family? I don't suppose you have anyone that could come, do you?"

"No." Gaara said, no elaboration.

"Then just Sirius." Harry said. In his last letter, Sirius had confessed to asking his oldest friend to marry him so that Remus could attend as a family member as well, but the ex-professor had refused. Sirius has then spent half a page writing in poetic verse about heartbreak. In Harry's reply, he politely asked Sirius not to write to him when he was drunk. It was unsettling.

"Sirius?" Gaara asked. He hadn't realised Potter and Sirius were related.

"Yes, he's my godfather and your caretaker. He qualifies, I checked with Professor McGonagall."

"Oh." Gaara supposed Sirius would want to watch like Draco. Fine.

"Glad we've finally got this sorted." Harry said. "Now there's just the life-threatening Tasks to prepare for, right? Easy."

Gaara stared impassively.

"It's not like it's the first time I'll be risking my life at school but this feels different. Everyone hates me and there's no point to it. I don't want to be famous! It's just not fair that they can force me to take part."

This seemed to be a personal moment so Gaara left without another word.

Harry was so wrapped up in his exposition he didn't notice Gaara's departure until he was already walking out the door. It took the wind out of Harry's sails until it was replaced with anger. How unbelievably rude!

That emotion lasted all of ten seconds before Harry sunk into a dusty chair and conceded, to himself, that he and Gaara weren't friends, despite all the things between them, and he shouldn't be surprised when Gaara continued to act like weren't. In fact, they were really rivals now because of the upcoming Tournament.

Still, Harry thought, there was no need to be an arse about it.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Gaara returned to the room feeling like his time would have been better spent reading, rather meeting to listen to Potter complain and discuss ticket allocations. Draco's head shot up as soon as Gaara entered the room, the homework in front of him forgotten.

Just as Draco was about to say something, he held his tongue and just stared at the red-headed former mute. Draco was finally embracing that appreciable Syltherin quality of minding one's own business. Of course, since Slytherins also thrived on discovering and exploiting secrets, this just meant that they (and Draco, in this instance) knew they would uncover the secrets on their own, without the need to stoop to asking.

Gaara knew all of this, having lived amongst Slytherins who wanted to uncover his secrets for over a year now. Still, that malicious part the off-worlder wanted to leave Draco in suspense for a while for the presumption.

Instead, he decided to make his life a bit simpler and avoid the games.

"Potter just wanted to know why I entered."

Draco's eyes lit up when Gaara started talking. "And?"

"And what?"

"Did you tell him? About the deal with Dumbledore."

"No."

"I suppose I would have assumed as much. He doesn't even know you're from another world, after all. What did you tell him, then?"

"I didn't. I confirmed that he didn't enter."

"Just as well. And I'm still not convinced. Potter's been a glory hound since he got here. He's probably chickening out now because he's realised he'll be killed.

"So was that it?" Draco asked. "I mean, you weren't gone long but I would have thought you'd have talked about more than that."

"He wanted to talk about tickets."

"Tickets?" Draco sounded excited.

"Yes, for attending the Tasks."

"Yes, I know that! What about the tickets?" Draco would be sending night owls to his father, Professor Snape, Dumbledore, and the Minister for Magic if Potter was trying to hog the tickets.

"He said I have two. Would you like one?"

"Well of course I would! I told you days ago that I wanted to go!"

Gaara didn't remember that. No matter.

"I expect you'll be inviting Lovegood with the other one." Draco added.

"Most likely."

Something visibly occurred to Draco. "Hold up, I won't have to sit next to Granger or the Weasel, will I?"

Gaara hadn't thought about that. "I don't know. Luna could sit between you, and maybe Sirius."

"Sirius Black is going to be there as well?" Draco still referred to his first cousin once removed by his full name from time to time, as if Sirius were still a notorious mass murderer on the run and not the informal, immature man who had hosted him multiple times over the summer.

"Yes, as my guardian and Potter's godfather."

"Of course, the family tickets. I don't expect either of you would be able to fill the other seat for relatives." Draco said thoughtlessly. "With the first Task coming up, have you given any thought as to what you'll do?"

"Use my sand and win." The simple confidence worried Draco enormously.

"You're not going to learn any spells in case your sand isn't enough?"

"If my sand is not able to handle the Task, whatever it is, my spellcasting will probably not make a difference."

Gaara was probably right, Draco acknowledged.

"Potter also said I ought to write to Sirius."

"What for?"

"To discuss my entering the Tournament, I believe."

Draco swivelled around fully in his non-swivel chair. "Hold on, you haven't so much as owled your guardian once since you were selected!?"

"It slipped my mind." Gaara said. "Do you think he'll be upset?" Gaara hadn't opened any of Sirius's letters since the morning after the selection so he couldn't be sure.

"Upset? I can't believe he hasn't sent you a howler. Then again, I often forget he is from the Black family like mother. Despite his Gryffindor past, maybe some of his manners are still in place." Draco had said 'Gryffindor' as if it were some scandalous indiscretion, which Gaara supposed it probably had been.

Gaara picked up his latest book while once again considering how strange it was to be expected to check in with an adult about things happening in his life. He'd really never had anything like that before. Baki had never asked questions, perhaps because he was afraid of the answer or perhaps because he was afraid he wouldn't get one. And his siblings were too preoccupied with their own lives half the time to care why he'd done something, though they'd been taking more of an interest in his comings and goings shortly before his transportation.

"You know, I don't think you should have allowed Potter to have those other guest tickets. You're obviously the actual Champion for Hogwarts. He should be so lucky to be invited, let alone getting some of your guest passes."

Gaara didn't look up from his book.

Draco noticed this dismissal and sighed. "So I'm going to be going to be watching you competing whilst sitting next to three Gryffindors and Lovegood. Wonderful."

Gaara tuned him out for the next twenty minutes while Draco continued to complain, berate him for not learning more spells, and tell him off for not writing to Sirius sooner.

When Gaara got to end of the chapter he was reading, he set the book down softly and moved over to his desk to write his belated note.

'Sirius,

I apologies if I have made you worry. I entered the Triwizard Tournament to experience a challenge. I am otherwise well.

Gaara'

It was a tad shorter than was conventional but hopefully it would suffice. He didn't want to tell Sirius about the deal with Dumbledore after Draco's reaction. Whether it was the manipulation of the old man or Gaara continuing efforts to return home, Gaara expected Sirius's reaction to match or exceed Draco's own disapproval.

Gaara discreetly folded the nearly-empty parchment and sealed it with wax before Draco could see how little he had written. If Draco knew, he wouldn't have rested (or let Gaara rest) until the off-worlder wrote a new one from scratch, following all of the seemingly random and pointless etiquette rules relating to letter writing.

"May I use your owl?" Gaara asked.

Draco looked up from his assignment, just about finished for the night. "Hmm? Oh, you've written a letter to Sirius. Let me look at it then." He said.

Gaara showed him the sealed letter.

"Oh, you've sealed it." Draco seemed a little offended that his proof-reading skills wouldn't be of use. "Well, yes, of course."

Gaara set off to send his letter. It would arrive in the morning and then hopefully whatever scathing reply Sirius sent afterwards would inspire him to resume some semi-frequent correspondence with the man. This recent block when it came to composing letters could have caused him all sorts of problems if he hadn't gone for it and written one tonight.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

The next morning's breakfast was a raucous affair as the school rumour mill went into full swing. Gossip was good but gossip about the Tournament had a premium attached. Everyone wanted to know about the meeting between Harry and Gaara and the only one claiming to have any pertinent information was Draco.

All morning, Draco had been telling anyone who would listen (almost exclusively Slytherins) that Potter had asked to meet so that he could beg Gaara for mercy. His claims were met with varying levels of belief from his own House. Those from other Houses, who either overheard Draco's claims or heard a second hand version elsewhere, almost all saw through the lies. Malfoy's rivalry with the Boy Who Lived was infamous and even if there had been a nugget of truth in the story, they knew it would have been blown out of all proportions.

Of course, nobody could get Gaara to say a word on the subject no matter how much they tried to bug him. He didn't like Potter but he had no interest in spreading lies or badmouthing the boy. Also, Gaara wasn't a huge fan of ostracisation.

On the bright side, Draco was surrounded by a crowd of people again, which seemed to make the blond happy. Particularly because the group of Slytherins huddled around him were listening to what he wanted to say, not some blood purity rubbish his father had insisted upon. Granted, the subject that had brought them all together was to bully someone, but Gaara was just relieved that Draco seemed to have cheered up a bit after having been in a foul mood for weeks. If the anti-social element of his emotional recovery continued longer than Gaara thought appropriate, he would step in.

Gaara was sitting away from the crowd so that he could eat his small meal in peace. He had tried recently to ask the house elves to make him rice for his meals, and possibly more fish and some gizzards, but they had been surprisingly resistant to his suggestion. Apparently they wouldn't cater to every student's individual preferences. The vitriol with which they said this indicated that they dealt with insistent and picky student quite frequently.

Nonetheless, Gaara was considering speaking to Dumbledore about it. As long as Gaara had been in this world, he still wasn't used to the food they ate every day. The worst part was the knowledge that some countries had cultures and diets almost identical to his own, and instead he had landed in Britain, known in this world for not having the best cuisine.

As Gaara nibbled on another piece of dry toast, his attention was drawn to the entrance of the Great Hall where there seemed to be a bit of a commotion. There were raised voices outside in the castle foyer and now the doors had opened abruptly. And McGonagall backed into the Hall, trying to calm whoever was causing the disturbance before they entered.

Gaara sighed and let his attention drift back to his toast. He'd heard that civilian schools were supposed to be boring places of routine and learning. He had experienced less of either than he would have liked.

"Gaara!" Gaara's eyes shot up and found Sirius standing by the doors, ignoring McGonagall who was sternly telling him off for not waiting outside.

He looked angry.

Wishing to avoid more of a scene than was strictly necessary (or that had already been made), Gaara left the rest of his meagre breakfast and stood up. Sirius's eyes locked onto Gaara's as soon as he rose but Sirius waited where he was, thankfully, allowing Gaara time to approach.

Sirius watched him approach with as scornful a look as Gaara had ever seen on the man's face, aside from when he had been talking about Wormtail. Gaara did not know what had brought this about and could not have guessed that Sirius would snatch his hand as soon as he was within snatching distance.

"We need to talk."

"Honestly, mister Black!" McGonagall proceeded to scold the grown man, "If you had just waited a moment outside, I would have fetched him for you and avoided this scene!"

Sirius ignored her and dragged Gaara right back out of the Hall without another word. Gaara could hear the voices at the tables rising already, the rumour mill spinning even faster than it had from just a meeting between he and Potter.

Harry had jumped to his feet when Seamus had notified him of Sirius' abrupt arrival but by the time he was nearing the entrance, Sirius had pulled Gaara out of the Great Hall and Harry felt very awkward to be standing in full sight of everyone. He steeled himself with his Gryffindor courage and shook off the whispers at his back. If he dwelt on them, he would have made more a spectacle of himself and run out of the Hall after his godfather, rather than walking out in at what he desperately hoped appeared to be a casual pace.

Gaara allowed himself to be pulled after the skinny man without any protest or resistance. The deputy headmistress was rushing after them, looking stern and disapproving as she hustled along. Gaara wondered if she was frowning at Sirius or if she knew something about what Gaara had done to upset the man.

In the tense silent moments as they continued up the stairs, Gaara wondered again if the contents of his letter to Sirius might have somehow given cause for offence. There just simply wasn't enough in that letter to have upset anyone. Gaara's non-existent eyebrows scrunched up as his confused mind whirled into a frenzy. He just didn't understand!

Gaara was starting to get angry because of his confusion, which clouded the observation he might have made, that Sirius, who was quite out of breath by the time they reached the second floor, really ought to take up some form of exercise. It was fortunate really, that Gaara was as distracted as he was, because Draco got upset when Gaara routinely insulted his physical fitness and Sirius was already in a foul mood.

McGonagall was made of sterner stuff than her one-time pupil. Despite her more advanced age, Minerva had been performing morning aerobics since she was a young woman and was able to race up the stairs with nary a drop of sweat spilled. She had asked Mr Black to wait in one of the disused classrooms on the third floor but at least he was going there now, after having made a scene in front of the student body.

As Mr Black pulled his ward into the empty classroom, Minerva turned in time to halt Harry's pursuit.

"Wait here, Mister Potter. Mister Black wants to talk with Gaara alone." She said. She felt bad for the poor boy, clearly feeling left out by his godfather, but Minerva knew no good would come of Harry interrupting a surely tense meeting. She wouldn't hurry him away, though. After whatever scolding Mr Black intended to give Gaara, hopefully he would still be in good enough spirits to talk to Harry.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

"Well?" Sirius asked, having finally released Gaara to stand apart from him and cast some privacy wards on the room.

Gaara was glaring at Sirius now, which probably wasn't helping the situation. In the scant couple of minutes since they left the Great Hall, Gaara had still not come to any understanding of what had set Sirius off.

Gaara waited for some explanation.

And waited.

Sirius was waiting.

The silence stretched on, with Sirius's angry determination keeping him quiet only so long before he realised that Gaara would stand there silently all day if given the chance. Beyond the year he spent mute, Gaara was also more pig-headed than any Slytherin had a right to be.

Sirius got tired of waiting, "You've got nothing to say?! I've sent you letter after letter and you've not had anything to say to me?"

Gaara's glare loosened up a smidge. He'd just sent a reply, hadn't he?

Though, it was supposed to arrive in the morning while Sirius was eating breakfast… And instead Sirius was here…

Oh…

"Not one word in days after you entered the Tournament without telling me!?"

"I sent an owl last night. You missed it by coming here." Gaara quietly mentioned.

There. Sorted.

"You sent an owl last night? Why didn't you say?" Sirius said. "Like I didn't use that excuse a hundred times! Oh, it got lost in the owl post, did it?"

Sirius didn't believe him.

"What were you thinking?! You entered the Tournament! Don't even deny it, Harry saw you do it." Gaara had no intention of denying it. "After everything you've told me, everything that you've done, why would you hide this from me?"

Gaara didn't intend to tell Sirius, but before he would have had a chance, Sirius went on.

"You're strong but that's no reason to do something as stupid as to enter the bloody Triwizard Tournament! People older and smarter than you were killed before they stopped running the thing the last damn time." Sirius said, having been told this by Remus only days before.

"And I know you're some big shot where you come from, an adult in the eyes of your people, but not here, you're not. I'm responsible for you, so you have to tell me when you're going to do stupid things like this. At least give me a warning. That's fair, isn't it?"

Gaara was processing everything so he missed his cue.

Sirius sighed. "Look, you don't have to tell me exactly why you entered. I'm sure it was either incredibly important or incredibly dumb. Either way, I suppose I can understand. We did some important stuff as well, the Marauders and I. And lots of really stupid stuff too."

Of that, Gaara had no doubt. It was pure luck that Sirius had conceded and ended his interrogation there. Gaara was just about to tell the finely dressed man-child the truth about his bargain with the old man.

Gaara had no defence against emotional pleas like this. Kankuro had told Gaara, only weeks before his banishment to this world, that Gaara was pretty much the worst liar in Suna, despite his poker face. He had always got by, killing anyone who knew anything about him outside of his immediate family and team leader, so he had never had to develop any sort of tact or guile.

While Gaara had resented the accusation at the time, he had to admit (at least to himself) that he had told an awful lot of people things about himself since coming here.

He would have to work on that when he resumed his shinobi career.

Sirius leaned against a table. "Well, there's no way to get you out of it now. All there's left to do is help you through the Tasks, both you and Harry. And occasionally insult your meagre intelligence for entering in the first place."

"I don't need any help." Gaara said.

"No, I suppose you might not..." Sirius said contemplatively. He had seen Gaara fight a couple of times, most notably after the Quidditch World Cup finals, and knew that Gaara of all people would be able to handle himself physically. But Sirius would not stand back and leave him to it. He didn't get most of this parental stuff that Remus kept telling him about, but he knew that he needed to do everything he could to help both Gaara and Harry survive.

Whenever he was in doubt, Sirius just asked himself what he thought James would do in his situation. Then he asked what Lily would tell James to do.

"But you'll be getting my help regardless."

"I believe the rules state that no outside help is allowed."

"Listen to you, Bandit. Quoting the rules as if you're not already an honorary Marauder. And anyway, it's not against the rules if they don't find out." Sirius winked at Gaara and he considered leaving. Sirius had come all the way here but Gaara couldn't imagine anything important coming out of this conversation. Particularly if Sirius had already devolved into silliness.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Harry was pacing back and forth in front of the door while Professor McGonagall kept vigil outside. It was a terribly annoying habit but Minerva allowed Potter to continue his incessant pacing since he was clearly distressed.

Eventually Potter seemed to lose his steam and he finally stopped moving, settling a respectable distance away from his Head of House.

"Professor?"

"Yes, Mister Potter?"

"How come Sirius able to come in to the school like this?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well… since you were with him, I assume he didn't sneak in, but how come he was allowed in?" Harry asked this, hoping that Professor McGonagall would regale him with a dramatic story of some elaborate scheme Sirius had employed in his latest penetration of the school's defences.

"Mister Potter, I will forgive your ignorance, considering the events of the last school year. But in spite of the fact that we are in a castle, you seem to have forgotten that this is first and foremost a school. Parents and/or guardians are perfectly free to arrange to visit their children here during term time. Though, perhaps not in the manner mister Black displayed this morning. And usually with more than twenty minutes notice." She finished with a mutter.

"Oh." Harry said, blushing lightly.

"Of course, the Ministry has applied certain extra restrictions for you and Gaara, but even they cannot prevent a guardian from stopping in to talk to their charge."

"I guess." Harry said, "Do you know what he wants to talk about?"

McGonagall shot him a stern look, "You know very well that I won't be telling you anything of the sort, Mister Potter. That topic is between Mister Black and Gaara, unless one of them wishes to share the matter with you."

"Yes, of course, Professor." Harry averted his gaze.

They lapsed into silence, with McGonagall enjoying the peace and quiet before her day's lessons began, and Harry unhappily avoiding saying anything else that would end up embarrassing him.

Eventually the door slammed open and Sirius came bustling out, pantomiming the stern disciplinarian he had appeared to be when he first appeared, but something about the performance rung hollow now. Professor McGonagall, Harry decided, had also reached the same conclusion, judging by the subtle pursing of her lips.

Gaara's face, which had hardly registered any sort of shock on his way out of the Great Hall, now appeared to be back to being perfectly blank again. But he didn't usually seem to care when he was being told off anyway, so he couldn't be relied upon to give any sort of indication of Sirius's actual intentions.

"And another thing, young man, you're bloody-well lucky that I don't give you a good hiding!" Sirius yelled, struggling not to let the ever-present smirk grow on his face.

"Yes, well, that will be quite enough of that, Mister Black." McGonagall said with a withering sigh.

"You're probably right. Already gave the lad a right good tongue-lashing." Sirius said, adopting a northern accent, bringing a smile to Harry's face automatically but doing nothing to reduce McGonagall's frown.

Before Harry could ask one of ten questions he'd been formulating while pacing, Professor McGonagall spoke, "Now that you have spoken to your charge, I will show you out."

"Actually, Professor, I was hoping to spend some time with the boys together, since I'm here."

"As you used to be the first to remind me, parents may only spend time in the castle when attending to important business or an emergency. They can't just drop in."

Sirius, remembering the fervent effort he went to in his years at Hogwarts to escape is parents' meddling and stop them confronting him and his friends during term-time, struggled to maintain his smile. "Well, Professor, I'm sure an emergency could be arranged. If you like."

"While I can no longer assign you detention, I must remind you, Mister Black, that you are also no longer the beneficiary of the school rules preventing staff from cursing students." McGonagall countered.

"You wouldn't begrudge your old favourite student a little grace, would you, Professor?" Sirius chanced, while both Harry and Gaara silently watched on.

"You, Sirius Black, are not who I would be thinking of if I claimed to have a favourite student." She said, "…however, considering the imposition you and these two have been put to by recent events, I suppose it would be heartless of me to deny you some time together before the boys have their first classes of the day. If you make them late, on the other hand, I might not be so forgiving." And with that final, ominous warning, the Deputy Headmistress moved to leave.

Two steps on her way, she turned back and said, "I might also suggest that you find somewhere discreet before the whole school finishes with its breakfast and seeks out the latest intrigue in the castle."

Sirius thanked her and then turned to the two teenagers at last. "I know just the place."

"Where?" Harry asked, since Gaara never would. In fact, come to think of him, Gaara seemed to be standing a couple of feet further away than when Harry last looked.

Sirius seemed to notice Gaara's unseen movement, as well, not long after. Instead of mentioning anything, which Gaara would likely not deign to reply to, Sirius instead took Gaara by the shoulder and started 'guiding' him towards the staircase that would lead them upwards.

"There's this one hidden area your father and I always used to hang out. I'm sure you'll have come across it before but it would be nice for Gaara to see it as well, I think."

Neither Gaara nor Harry could guess why Sirius thought Gaara might care about where Sirius and Harry's father used to sit around when they were at school, but Harry was too interested to mention anything that might stop them and Gaara had no say in the matter since Sirius was practically marching him along. He could have actually spoken up about his treatment, but Harry supposed Gaara knew it would amount to nothing if he did try.

Sirius was more than used to shutting Gaara down by now.

Harry followed after Sirius and Gaara, excited enough by the walk through the castle with his godfather that he wasn't at all bothered by the silence. He did, however, become a little apprehensive when they continued to climb the castle staircases one by one, rising to very familiar surroundings until finally they were stood outside of the entrance to the Gryffindor common room.

"Is it much further?" Harry asked.

"Not much further at all, if I remember correctly." Sirius said, turning to Harry at last.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked.

"My first real home." Sirius said, nodding back towards the portrait of the Fat Lady.

Harry followed his indication and his eyes widened, "Oh, in there. But…" Harry hesitated and then nodded at Gaara, who was still looking at the portrait but was entirely aware of what Harry was doing. The portrait was watching them with a look of terror on her subtly-cracked, painted face.

"Come on, I'm sure Gaara won't say anything." Sirius whined.

"I'm still not sure." Harry said, having no intention of letting Gaara into his House. Or any Slytherin, for that matter.

"I've already been in there." Gaara said without turning to look at them, knowing exactly what (who) the issue was.

"That's not- wait, you've been in our common room? When?" Harry hadn't wanted to offend Gaara by revealing the truth of the insight, but he was taken aback by Gaara's revelation.

"Oh, it was at Halloween last year, wasn't it!" Sirius said, excited.

"Halloween?" Harry asked, trying to remember what happened last Halloween. It had been a pretty memorable night but his mind was still reeling from the events around the most recent Halloween.

"Of course, now I remember. I was here last year trying to find Pettigrew and then Gaara showed up."

Harry turned to Gaara fully, "What? How did you get into our House?"

Gaara finally turned to look at them, "I found a way in." He didn't know the Longbottom boy very well, and suspected he would like him less if he did, but he didn't want to get him in trouble. After all, it was understandable, forgetting to close the door every now and then.

"Speaking from experience, it's really not that difficult to penetrate this castle's defences." Sirius said absently.

Harry would get to the bottom of this, he resolved, but he knew his chances would be better once Sirius had left. Gaara might be harder to track down but at least Sirius wouldn't chime in and give Gaara an excuse to clam up again.

That said, he had no desire for Sirius to leave. He drew as close as he could to the Fat Lady and whispered the password to her so that Gaara might not hear it and report back to Malfoy and the rest of Slytherin. The last time one of the feuding Houses had discovered and disseminated the other House's password, it started a prank war that last for six months. Students were hospitalised.

How did Harry know this? Because he was letting one of the primary perpetrators into his common room. Hermione might be able to recite Hogwarts: A History in her sleep, but Sirius could recount almost as many stories from just his short time at the school, and the stories he told were almost invariably better than the ones Hermione lectured him with.

Harry paused at the entrance after the portrait swung open, checking the interior for any lingering Gryffindors before lettering two intruders in.

"Okay, coast's clear." Harry said.

"You know, the passwords we used in my day were much harder to guess."

Harry swivelled to Sirius, wondering if he might have spoken too loudly and instigated the next great prank war, which the Weasley Twins had been prophesying for years now.

"Don't look so worried. I have a keen sense of hearing, thanks to my dogged little skill." He grinned. "Besides, Gaara's already proved he could get in whenever he wants. You're not exactly the sort to go around pulling practical jokes, are you, Gaara?"

"I don't care for jokes." He said solemnly.

"According to some people I know, he's the reigning prank king of Hogwarts." Harry said, leading them through to the main area and immediately Gaara gravitated ever-so subtly towards the fire.

Harry and Sirius noticed this and took the initiative to settle themselves near the fire so that Gaara would have the excuse to sit right in front of it without appearing weak. Harry really only had a passing acquaintance with Gaara, but even he knew these concessions had to be made for him.

"I spent a long time believing I would never ever get to come back here, you know." Sirius said, looking around him again. "And then, I believed I would only ever see it in the dark of the night as I came to kill someone."

"Hopefully Ron won't see you in here. He's sworn he'll never let you near where he sleeps again."

"Yeah, he did bear the brunt of my attempts last year." Sirius chuckled, scratching his beard. "I hope you enjoy every moment you spend here."

"I do." Harry said, looking around himself.

"What about you, Gaara? Do you feel the same way about your House?" Sirius asked, noticing that Gaara had zoned out.

Gaara looked back at the pair when he heard his name, looking a little surprise to be addressed. "I like it. It's quiet."

"Does it feel like home to you?" Harry asked. He had only been into the Slytherin common room but it had not endeared itself to him.

"Home? No, my home feels very different." Gaara said thoughtfully.

"Do you think you'll miss it when you leave?" Harry asked. He couldn't imagine not missing Hogwarts like Sirius did when he finally graduated, but with the way Gaara spoke, he wondered if Gaara would even care if the castle crumbled.

Again, Gaara took his characteristic time in answering. "Yes, I will miss it greatly."

Sirius had to resist the fading of his smile. Harry might be surprised to hear that Gaara would miss the school when he graduated, but Sirius knew Gaara had another kind of departure in mind. As far as Sirius knew, Gaara had made absolutely no progress in leaving yet, but he knew leaving would forever be on Gaara's mind.

Harry didn't seem to notice Sirius's sobriety, instead he moved on. "Hopefully I'll be able to come back every once in a while like you can. I don't ever want to leave here for the last time."

"Never do. Don't listen to McGonagall; you'll always be able to find a way back in here." Sirius smiled properly again. "And I know a few ways they'll never be able to block."

Vividly remembering Sirius-the-murderer trying to break into the school last year, Harry found the man's claim of impunity less amusing.

"Is it normal for adults here to frequently visit their schools?" Gaara asked suddenly.

"No, it's not normal. Sirius is anything but normal." Harry laughed, and suddenly the peculiarity of the situation occurred to him. Here he was with Gaara and Sirius in the Gryffindor common room, smiling and laughing. He wasn't smiling but Gaara wasn't even glaring. Even odder still was it to see Gaara open up.

"You didn't go to a regular sort of school in your homeland, did you, Gaara?" Sirius asked.

"No, I was taught by my uncle and then my teacher." Gaara said, strangely upfront. Harry jolted a little at Gaara's mentioning his uncle after the last time Gaara had decided to have a heart-to-heart with him.

"Really? You didn't go to primary school?" Harry wanted to change the subject away from Gaara's uncle.

"Well, to be fair, I didn't either." Sirius said.

"You didn't?" Harry said. Gaara, he could believe, but Sirius seemed too well-adjusted. For a wizard, anyway.

Sirius scratched the back of his neck. "Actually, Harry, most pureblood children don't attend a primary school. There aren't any of them just for little witches and wizards in Britain, and not many purebloods are willing to send their children all the way to France before they turn eleven. Even fewer of them are willing to send their kids to a muggle school where they might learn heretical things like kindness or maths."

"Maths?" Harry asked, still a little shocked. He knew Ron had been homeschooled by his mother, but he figured that was just because they lived in the middle of nowhere and Mrs Weasley wouldn't let the children near Mr Weasley's enchanted car until they were older.

"Yes, a lot of families considered maths and other muggle subjects like it to be wrong. James, your father, was kind enough to try and teach me when we first met. Remus took over after a while because James wasn't very good at maths."

"So none of the Slytherins know maths?" Harry found it hard to believe.

"I'm sure most of them know some these days. My parents, as I'm sure you'll remember, were insane. The mere association with muggles was considered abhorrent. A lot of them probably had tutors teach them basic skills like that."

"Does Malfoy know maths?" Harry swivelled to interrogate Gaara. He couldn't believe he might have missed such fertile ground for mockery in all of these years.

"He is quite skilled." Gaara said, quite honestly. Of course, what he failed to mention was that Gaara was not very good at maths himself and he was not the best judge of mathematical prowess.

"I bet that caused an argument. Cissy would have pitched a fit about Draco learning his numbers but Lucius wouldn't have stood for a son who couldn't do the family accounts. The Malfoys are one of the only pureblood lines who embraced that particular skill."

"I would have thought it would be the other way around." Harry said. His own experience with Lucius Malfoy was… turbulent. The man had tried to resurrect Voldemort by having him leech off of Ginny's soul, and then he was pretty sure Mr Malfoy had tried to use the killing curse on him. Nonetheless, he was pretty sure Draco's father would be the conservative of the pair, compared to Mrs Malfoy who seemed comparatively warm (for a staunch pureblood).

"Nah, Cissy was always the biggest priss. She would have wanted her baby boy learning French, Latin and piano, oh, and wizarding history. She'd want him to stop there. Lucius wouldn't stand for a blissfully ignorant son. Maths, accounting, politics, whatever else he thought Draco might ever need."

"Oh." Harry supposed it made sense.

"Draco did not care for his piano lessons." Gaara said, remembering the many rants his friend had shared on the subject. "He is skilled, though."

"You've heard him play?" Harry couldn't imagine Malfoy doing anything artistic or pleasant.

"Yes, his family have a grand piano at their home. He practices every day when he is home."

"You said he doesn't like the piano."

"He didn't like the lessons. The teacher was rude, apparently. He likes playing on his own now. He can pick his own music."

"What does Draco like to play?" Sirius asked.

"Music by a man named Chopin." Gaara said, recalling Draco's endless musings on the great composers, which Gaara half-listened to.

"Chopin? He must be pretty good." Sirius whistled. "I could never get my fingers to move that fast." Sirius started miming some piano sonata in the air but neither boy had the skill to appreciate the movements. "I haven't tried playing since… Well, I suppose I would have to get our old piano tuned first."

Sirius's first instinct was to buy a new grand piano, maybe a Steinway, but Remus was still drilling the necessity of not wasting hundreds of thousands on things he didn't need.

It was easy to forget about the drama from the Tournament in the easy atmosphere. It was harder to ignore the outside world when the three of them started to hear the approaching clamour of the returning Gryffindors.

Harry started looking around nervously, perhaps for a blanket to throw over Gaara but the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open before he could make a move to conceal the Slytherin and suddenly people were pouring back in to get their things for their first classes of the day.

The first ones into the House, naturally, were the long-legged seventh-years who had been able to climb the stairs the fastest, who paused when they came upon the scene. It was a surprising scene, to be fair. They'd all seen Sirius Black and Gaara exit shortly before Harry Potter trailed after, but the last place any of them expected to find the trio was in their common room, huddled around the fire.

"I think you two should probably go now." Harry said, hearing more voices nearing the still-open portrait. It would be easier to manage the inevitable mess if the causes had already left. Harry didn't want to have to argue with half of his House while Sirius and Gaara were still sat there.

"Actually, there's another reason I came today." Sirius said, "I probably should have brought it up before it got busy. Can we go somewhere private for a minute? And then I'll leave you two to your classes."

Harry looked around as the trickle of startled and hostile Gryffindor upper years continued to enter and stand around. "Umm, yes, let's go to my room. It should be empty for a bit…"

Harry had no idea why Sirius was now looking nervous, but Harry's own nerves were reserved for the impending awkwardness that would follow him in his precious House for the foreseeable future. And he hadn't exactly been popular before then.

They quickly retreated upstairs to the room Harry shared with his friends. His friends that he dearly hoped wouldn't show up for a while.

"Why do you sleep on top of one another like this?" Gaara asked. He had seen the sleeping arrangements when he last visited and now seemed like a good opportunity to answer the previously unanswered question.

"The bunk beds?" Harry asked. "Don't you have them in Slytherin?" Harry had honestly thought the only difference between the Houses was the décor.

"No. We have our own beds."

Coming from any other Slytherin, it might have seemed derisive, but Gaara said it so matter-of-factly that Harry was just surprised he hadn't realised the Slytherins wouldn't stand for such informal quarters.

"If you believe the story Dumbledore once told a student, the beds were set up this way to ensure that no matter how courageous our House became, we would never forget to be loyal to those closest to us. It doesn't matter how strong you are, you need to trust the people you sleep around." Sirius said sombrely. "On the other hand, I heard from Lily that it was really because the original founders of the school hadn't been able to anticipate the British population boom and so they failed to plan adequate housing space for all of the students. Magical expansion charms only work so far. And unlike some Houses, Gryffindor can't just tunnel further under the Black Lake."

"Really? So it's just too small for everyone to have their own beds?" Harry asked. He liked being close with everyone, but having his own bed did also sound nice.

"Maybe. Lily was a fount of knowledge, to be sure, but she wasn't above lying to me and the others to see how far she could take it. She had me believing a great many untrue things about life as a muggle. I only found out after we graduated and I visited her home that muggles don't all have mechanical butlers who cook and clean for them."

"She lied?" Gaara said, knowing almost as little about muggle living as Sirius had.

"After she began hanging out around us, because your father's charm finally started working on her, Harry, Lily got tired of always being the one we asked for help with our homework or because we were curious about something." Sirius smiled absently. "Once she just gave Remus her whole set of muggle encyclopaedias because he kept on asking her questions. Budding nerd even back then, he was. So, anyway, she started telling us things that weren't true and when our grades plummeted, we got the message and stopped asking. Of course, it should go without saying that I just started stealing her homework and copying it after that."

"And you got away with it?" Harry asked.

"For about a week before McGonagall caught on. I didn't think to change any of the wording or make myself seem less of a prodigious genius."

"What did my mum-"

"You had something important to discuss." Gaara cut Harry off forcefully. Gaara had nowhere else to be right now, but he knew they would be ejected from the House soon and then he would have to wait until the next time Sirius visited to find out what this was about. And that meant Sirius would be visiting again.

Harry could not hide his disappointment at the interruption, but Sirius sighed and said, "No, you're right. We don't have long and this does need to be said. Things are in motion and it wouldn't do for it to come as a surprise later down the line."

If Harry hadn't already been perched on the edge of his seat from his excited conversation about his parents, the mounting suspense would have driven him there.

"The truth is, and Remus said I probably should have clued the pair of you in earlier, is that…" Sirius swallowed thickly. "I'm currently trying to adopt the two of you." Sirius seemed to gain some momentum, because after those words left his mouth, before either of the listeners could react, he carried on. "I realised that, before this goes any further, I should make sure you're both… okay with it."

Sirius's realisation had come after six or seven lectures from Remus on the subject. Even if it weren't permanently stuck to his wall, Sirius knew there was no point in removing his mother's portrait since Remus was doing such a good job filling her shoes lately. He had all but threatened to impose a curfew on Sirius after he had gone out for a quick pint and come back twenty-seven hours later. It wasn't like Sirius hadn't offered to take Remus with him.

"I've filed paperwork with the Ministry but Fudge and his grunts don't know anything about it. He couldn't do anything about it now, anyway. But eventually they'll send someone to talk to you two, to make sure you're okay with it, and that you wouldn't mind being adopted."

Harry was just lucky he hadn't slipped entirely out of his seat. He felt numb. Like a cold dread had slivered into his veins. If this wasn't real, if it turned out to be another happy dream like he'd had a thousand times in his childhood at the Dursleys' (and many times since), he didn't think he could take the disappointment. The possibility, however remote now that it had happened in front of him, that this wasn't really happening, scared Harry more than a hundred Triwizard Tournaments.

"Wuh- I- Are you sure?" Harry needed to allay that paranoid fear first.

"Am I sure? Are you kidding? I've never been so sure of anything!" Sirius laughed. "I'm just sorry I'm late in doing it." Sirius sobered a smidge, "I should have done years ago."

"Would I get to live with you?" It would be a shame if not, but Harry would still dearly love for Sirius to adopt him. Just to know he was wanted.

"Until you grow up and leave me for someone better! But you'll still have to come back and look after me in my old age. With the things I've done to my body, and will continue to do to it, I won't be aging gracefully, you can be sure of that!" He laughed and wrapped his arm around Harry shoulders.

Sirius hugged Harry and then looked over to Gaara…

This could go one of two ways.

Gaara was still sat there, his face as blank as it ever was. Sirius had been expecting something. Some sort of reaction from the consummate stoic. Considering what he had just been told, Sirius wondered if this stoicism might actually, in fact, be shock.

Had Sirius managed to stun Gaara by offering to adopt him?

"What is the purpose of adoption?" Gaara finally said, his voice even, belying any shock he might (or might not) have been experiencing.

"The purpose?" Sirius wasn't sure how to respond. Did his world not have such a thing as adoption. It wouldn't surprise him, with what he knew about Gaara's home.

"Yes. What is the advantage of being adopted?"

Harry had emerged from the hug to look at Gaara with as much bewilderment as Sirius regularly felt when dealing with the redhead.

Sirius considered how he might best sell this to the surly boy. His immediate urge to extol the virtue of giving him a proper, stable home and a family in this world died in his throat. Gaara was a practical boy who would appreciate a practical reason.

"It'll help keep the Ministry from taking you away if you're legally under my child, rather than just in my care." Sirius waited.

Gaara did not react, processing the excuse for a few moments. "Very well."

Harry pushed past his bafflement and asked the most pressing question, "When can I move in?"

Sirius laughed. "I wanted to get you there for the Christmas break this year, but with the Yule Ball and everything… and also there've been a couple of delays while we try and keep Fudge out of it. It will all be settled long before your summer holidays, so we can stop by your aunt and uncle's, a 'notorious serial killer' can make a brief reappearance to threaten them and you can collect your things. Then we'll go get very drunk and celebrate your new home."

"I don't think you should be encouraging minors to drink." Gaara said.

"Merlin, between you and Moony, Prongslet won't get so much as a drop until he's already eighteen!"

Aside from being the voice of reason, Gaara was also busy concealing his shock. He had not expected such an offer from Sirius, after everything that Sirius had already done for him. And while Gaara could see the logic behind it, he also felt conflicted. He would not be staying in this world for too much longer, and while he was sure Sirius was doing this to be a good friend, Gaara knew that ultimately he would make a terrible son, even as a fake.

Gaara had let his attention drift too far and apparently Sirius had noticed. "So, are you really okay with this, too, Gaara?"

"It makes sense." Was all Gaara would say on the subject. Far from the excitement of Harry's reaction, Gaara actually seemed morose.

Harry wanted to voice his criticism, to tell Gaara to understand the amazing opportunity that had just been offered to them both of them, orphans. Gaara was probably just pretending he wasn't bothered because he wanted to look like he didn't need anyone. Which made Harry wonder how Gaara could stand to hang around mister 'I'm-telling-my-father'.

"Right." Sirius wanted to talk this through with each of them properly but time was running short so it would have to wait until he could visit them again. Jokes aside, he knew he would be barred from visiting entirely if he abused McGonagall's accommodating nature, so he would probably have to wait a while. If he gave in to his impulses, he would have visited every day.

Remus said he needed a hobby. As if that unemployed layabout could talk.

"The Ministry, the bits that Fudge has his fat little fingers in, anyway, shouldn't be able to do anything to stop this from going through, but don't tell anybody about it. I don't want to tempt fate after it's given me such a kicking over the years."

"Of course." Harry said, and Gaara nodded.

Both of them were already formulating how they would immediately tell their best friends. For Harry, he just wanted to share the amazing news with people who would share his excitements. For Gaara, he needed help in understanding the emotional fallout of this. Potter was clearly experiencing a significant emotional reaction to this news and Gaara wondered if he was supposed to be feeling something too.

"Good. In that case, all that there's left to do is wait for the interviews, a home-study, and then more paperwork. I've worn down three quills just from filling out forms so far." Sirius said. When he noticed Harry's smile droop a little, Sirius hastened to add, "But I would happily ruin a dozen more of my father's precious antique quills to make this happen."

The door opened and Ron stumbled in, understandably shocked to see Gaara and Sirius Black standing next to Harry in their bedroom. Apparently the upper years thought it would be funnier to let the youngest Weasley boy stumble upon the meeting without any fair warning.

"Wha- what the bloody hell are you doing in here?!" Whether Ron was talking to Gaara or Sirius was unclear, but it didn't really matter.

"Oh, Ronald, sorry to intrude. We were just leaving." Sirius said pleasantly. He was still living in fear of Molly finding out he had broken Ron's leg so he would try as hard as he could to keep the peace.

"I'll walk you out." Harry was quick to offer, resentful that the moment had been interrupted, and because it had been Ron, who had been acting off for too long to be excused entirely.

"No, thank you, Harry." Sirius smiled. "You'd best start getting ready for your lessons. I would hate for anybody to get the impression that I don't place the highest priority on schooling."

"That wasn't a convincing lie." Gaara called him out.

Sirius laughed and slung an arm around Gaara's tiny shoulders, ignoring the tensing that instinctively followed. "Gaara can show me the way. It's on the way to the dungeons anyhow."

"You know the way to the exit." Gaara craned his neck to look up at Sirius, who had still not removed his arm.

"It's a figure of speech, Gaara." Sirius said, guiding Gaara to the door.

"I'll see you again soon, Harry. In the meantime, don't lose heart, whatever happens. I believe in you and know you will do fine. Just do your best and accept any help that's offered."

"Thank you." Harry said, for everything.

Sirius smiled once more and finally removed his hand from Gaara's shoulder to give him a gentle push out the door.

Through the bewildered and hostile Gryffindors, Sirius marched behind Gaara all the way down the castle to the ground floor.

"I'd like to continue with you but I know for a fact that Snivellus wouldn't be as forgiving about letting outsiders into his House as I'm sure McGonagall will be." That would be sure to bring up unpleasant memories for the greasy-haired bat.

Gaara did not say anything.

"I want to talk to you more about this, about what I'm doing, but this isn't the time or the place. Please just believe me when I say that I only want to do what's best for you. And I think giving you somewhere you can call home permanently will do that. As long as you're here anyway." Sirius said. "And as for the Tournament, I hope you feel you can tell me the truth someday too."

Sirius moved straight in and gave Gaara a proper hug before Gaara could think to dodge or block the attempt. He didn't want to make Gaara uncomfortable, as he knew human contact made him, but sometimes expressions of caring needed to be shown rather than spoken.

"Stay well, Gaara. And write back to me next time, otherwise I really will be visiting again soon. I'll get a job teaching here if I have to."

Sirius walked out, heading towards Hogsmeade for a quick morning drink before going home to his liquor cabinet.

And Remus said he didn't have a hobby!

Gaara was fifteen minutes late for Herbology but he didn't bother giving an excuse. Professor Sprout pretended not to notice, having seen the beginning of the unfolding drama in the Great Hall at breakfast, and she felt she could make an exception this once.

Draco, conscious of the prying eyes all around them, tried to discreetly ask about what had transpired, including the rumours that Gaara had been hanging around the Gryffindor common room with his feet up. Gaara refused to answer the enquiries in company.

That evening, Draco was predictably dramatic when Gaara broke the news. Draco started right off on the history of individuals being adopted into the old pureblood families, particularly the Blacks. It was rare but not without precedence, usually to ensure the family name continued when the main branch had only sired daughters. After all, to a family like the Blacks, nobody would think twice about a step-brother and sister marrying. Of course, Draco left unspoken the judgemental observation about the Black history of incestuous couplings and the eventual ruination to which it led.

Draco did have a few words to say about Potter's inclusion in the affair. The platinum blond seemed to take great offence at the notion that Gaara and Potter would be step-brothers. Gaara didn't have a great deal to say on the matter, beyond the fact that he would not consider Potter his brother, and that family was not determined by blood or by the law. Draco could not understand the sentiment behind the statement and wondered if it might have been another cultural barrier, their divergent understandings of the term 'family'. To Draco, from everything he had ever been taught, blood and family were some of the most important and linked concepts that any witch or wizard should know.

Gaara noticed Draco calmed considerably when he realised they would be step-cousins. Gaara wisely decided not to mention how far removed they would be, nor how little such a relation really meant, not when Draco's mind was focussing on the importance of establishing Gaara properly in society if he were to be the legal son of the last scion of the Black family. The eldest son too, come to think of it.

Even if Draco was outwardly excited and (mostly) logical about the news, inside he wanted to know whether Gaara's acquiescence to Sirius's offer meant that he had some interest or intention in staying around. Why else would he be making long-term arrangements?

Draco didn't ask Gaara directly for any sort of confirmation because his assumption was the safer option. If he asked and Gaara answered, there was a real (and probable) chance that this did not mean what Draco hoped it meant, and he would rather hide inside his delusion while he could, rather than know for sure that Gaara would, in all likelihood, not remain.

Gaara remained engaged in the conversation for all of three minutes before the it grew tiresome for him and he moved on to reading his latest book, just as Draco started lecturing him on refining his downright crude manners, as well as the political advantages of being a member of the pureblood elite, even if only by adoption.

The Golden Trio were just as excited as Harry was, but Ron and Hermione did try to add a note of caution to Harry's uncharacteristically good mood, which practically had him bouncing in place. Hermione had warned Harry to be carefully of Sirius's immaturity, mostly because she was not convinced of Harry's own maturity and she did not think it would be fair for Professor Lupin to have to keep an eye on both of them.

Ron, on the other hand, was focussed on the other salient fact, that Gaara would be joining the family also. Ron warned Harry that, living under the same roof as Gaara full-time, Harry would be lucky to make it out alive. Then an argument broke out, with Hermione defending Gaara, Harry defending his ability to take care of himself, and Ron taking the side of keeping his friends alive, even if one of them was lying about not entering the Tournament.

Eventually the three decided to focus on the positive of Harry's adoption by someone who cared about him and that he would never have to set eyes upon Privet Drive ever again. He would quite happily sacrifice the handful of discards and other assorted rubbish that had been graciously given to him if it meant he never had to go back.

When Sirius had returned that afternoon, it had been to find a letter waiting neatly on a silver-embossed butler's tray, presumably set out by Kreacher after the morning post. Sirius had gone to some lengths to avoid publicising in which of the half-dozen British Black estates he was currently residing, so he did not tend to receive a great deal of post, outside of letters regarding the adoption, occasional missives of Cisssy, the ones from Harry, and now this one. Clearly Gaara's handwriting.

Sirius immediately suspected that Gaara might have written it subsequent to their meeting, but there was no way an owl would have made it back before him, and Sirius doubted Gaara would be able to return to London through any magical means in that time either, even if Sirius had spent a little more than an hour drinking at the pub.

Sirius smiled ruefully, sinking into his chair, plucking the letter from the tray and sliding the sterling silver, bone-handled letter opener to break the seal.

Inside was a laughably short letter that might have been more suited to the first half of a postcard message. Even if Gaara had been telling the truth and he had sent the letter last night, not that Sirius ever intended to admit that, he would be writing in his next letter to Gaara (after he sobered up, since he'd promised to stop drunk-corresponding) that he expected at least a full page from Gaara next time, or else.

Sirius really didn't like to have to make rules but Gaara needed a surprising amount of structure, considering how mature he seemed at times. If things weren't spelled out to him in the simplest possible terms, in black and white rules and statements, there was a reasonable chance he wouldn't understand.

Remus wasn't even pretending to job hunt that day. He was just sat reading the paper with his feet up and a cup of tea by his side. He'd barely glance over the top of his broadsheet when Sirius had come back from his morning mission, and refrained from commenting. Sirius could have mocked Remus's lack of drive that day, but he was already a little sleepy and he might take a nap. After his nap, he might come back and tell Remus off for being lazy.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Over the following weeks, Harry started to wonder if his hairline would last until he turned twenty with the stress he was under. He had frequently been spending the bulk of his time with Hermione in the Library to research past first Tasks, to try and narrow down what it was likely to be and how he should best prepare.

Turned out, the Task could be just about anything, including a written test, a duel, a physical challenge, taming a manticore, brewing a potion, or writing a ballad. When he asked Hermione, she told him there wasn't a spell for 'everything'. Typical.

She had started writing up a 'short' list of spells he should consider or try learning in preparation, things that would help in a broad range of circumstances. After the third option on the five-page list was a spell for learning multiple languages in a single sitting, Harry decided he might be better off looking up spells himself and asking Sirius for advice.

All of this stress wasn't helped by the fact that Gaara appeared to be entirely unconcerned. Being in the Library as often as he was, Harry frequently saw Gaara coming and going, but instead of preparing for the Tasks, or even doing homework, he was just doing his own thing as usual. Reading about esoteric subjects and even some novels.

Then again, compared to Malfoy, Gaara's nonchalance didn't bother Harry at all. The blond had started acting up again for no reason, with his whole 'Hogwarts' true Champion' tripe. Prick. And Ron was still intermittently being a prat, though at least he wasn't going so far as to outright avoid Harry anymore. He just made the occasional snide comment and was providing no help or support in Harry's preparations, unlike Hermione who was spearheading the effort.

When it came time to compete, Harry knew he would be fighting the cowardly impulse to suggest Hermione take his place, since he had no doubt she would be even better prepared than he was.

Harry had been focussing on trying to learn as many potentially useful spells as he possibly could, but beyond learning to use them properly, Harry was beginning to struggle to remember half of them. Turned out, the reason Hogwarts didn't load students up with every arcane and powerful spell available in the Library was that half couldn't be performed until the spellcaster was older and more powerful, and the students would be lucky to remember five of them.

In solidarity, Sirius had sent over a few books filled primarily with combat spells. Though, and Harry didn't care to admit this to his helpful godfather, that at least one of the books he had already found in the school Library. It didn't surprise anyone to know that Sirius wasn't familiar with the contents of Hogwarts' Library.

Harry was comparing the effects of two offensive spells, one from Sirius's book and the other from a school textbook, since they seemed similar but one was apparently dark and forbidden and the other was a common defensive spells used by the Turkish equivalent of Aurors, who abhorred the use of dark magic.

"When it says the potential to flay, does that mean what I think it means?" Harry asked, going a little green as his mind conjured up an image.

"I think it means you should stop reading that forbidden book and focus on the ones in the Library, Harry. It was nice of Mister Black to send you those books, but you should send them back to him before they get confiscated, or you get arrested for using something in them."

"They can't all be dark, Herm. Sirius wouldn't have sent them to me if they were, surely."

Hermione considered saying the obvious, that Sirius Black was a juvenile delinquent in the body of an adult, and no decisions should made on the basis of his maturity or good judgement, but instead she said, "He might not have read them."

"I suppose…" Harry said, wistfully thinking of the some of the more powerful blasting and fire spells the books had contained. The one called Fiendfyre had seemed really cool. Sentient, unquenchable fire that he could direct to burn and destroy anything. That could have been his signature spell.

Never mind.

Hermione had been giving him a fair number of non-combat spells, since the Tasks were not likely to all be centred around fighting. At any protestation on his part, she would just huff out "boys…" with a put-upon sigh and then insist harder. Harry admitted he might have been focussing a little too much on a single, cooler area of spellcraft.

"Ron's still hiding from his cousin, you know." Hermione said, flipping through the latest lead on spells that would make Harry's experience super speed. Though it might also cause his feet to fall off if it was improperly cast.

"Oh yeah?" Harry said half-heartedly. It seemed Ron's mood could not be predicted these days, with some mornings starting with a tense but friendly greeting and others where Ron would outright ignore him. Not one to be shunned one-sidedly, Harry was happy to reject Ron in kind on days like today where Ron had decided he could not trust Harry.

That said, neither of them wanted Hermione to know the extent of their feud so they had silently agreed not to discuss any of it with or in front of her.

"Yes, she's evidently managed to alienate all of the influential Slytherins she'd been targeting and now she's got no one to speak to. I would feel sorry for her if she hadn't brought it all on herself."

"She's a scary one, alright." Harry said. He had hoped someone, even Snape, might reel her in.

"Yes, well, I hope nobody lumps the rest of the girls in with her." Hermione had even tried to sit down and speak with Ron's cousin, to try and get her to tone down her hunt for a powerful boyfriend. Mafalda had said some very discourteous things to Hermione and that had been the end of the conversation, and the end of any pity Hermione might have had, remembering her own initial isolation in her first year. "I couldn't imagine anyone in our year acting like her when we were eleven! Can you imagine it?"

"I'll try very hard not to." Harry said.

"She's trying to get Ron to introduce her to someone in Gryffindor, you know. Wouldn't surprise me if it was you." Hermione said.

Harry stopped trying to read his book and immediately look Hermione in the face. "What?"

"The Boy-Who-Lived, soon-to-be-heir to the Black estate, Triwizard Champion, and slayer of the beast in the Chamber of Secrets. It wouldn't surprise me if she had you in her sights now that she's searching outside of the Slytherin pool."

"B-but I'm- and she's only eleven!" Harry said.

Hermione frowned, "Well of course I wouldn't expect you to take her up on it! And that's aside from her gaping personality flaws. But that doesn't mean she won't start bothering you or following you around like she did to Malfoy."

"I don't suppose I can count on getting any tips from him about getting rid of her, can I?"

"I wouldn't think so. Anyway, I heard a rumour he resorted to threatening to jinx her if she didn't stop harassing him, so you probably couldn't do it the same way he did."

"It wouldn't surprise me if he did. He's still a Malfoy." Harry would admit that the antagonism between him and Malfoy had settled quite a bit in the last year or so. Malfoy was still an arse, and he still did things to annoy Harry, but they hardly ever fought anymore and it was mostly childish squabbles, rather than outright hate speech. Hermione had been the one to term them childish squabbles.

"I don't think it's fair to base it on him being a Malfoy. He can't help which family he was born into." Hermione was making an abstracted point about the dangers of prejudice, as she would never want to be the one to defend Draco Malfoy.

"Have you forgotten the time his father almost killed Ginny with that diary and then he tried to kill me? Would have, too, if Dobby hadn't been there."

Hermione did not like to back down from a debate, but Harry had a major bone to pick with Malfoy sr. and she didn't want to put herself in the line of fire. Not when the only two Malfoys either of them had ever met had turned out to be loathsome.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Some people had said of Gaara that he had an unhealthy appreciation for being left alone. Even after leaving behind his more violent and psychotic tendencies and accepting the love of others, Gaara still preferred to be left in peace. So, with his nomination as one of the Champions of Hogwarts, Gaara found the past few weeks lamentable.

No longer could he sit quietly in a corner and expect to be ignored or avoided. Now, even worse than after his defeat of the dementors, people flocked to him, expecting some form of casual friendship with him. Draco had been the one to keep Gaara from ensuring the distance was resumed through a violent display. Making an example of interlopers would, apparently, only result in Gaara and Slytherin being penalised.

So, Gaara had taken to hiding away from people again. Draco had seemed okay with Gaara's added distance, as far as the redhead could see. Draco was keeping busy with the secret project he thought Gaara didn't know about as well as hanging out with his other friends. Gaara had decided to allow Draco to keep his secret for the time being, particularly now that there was a little more distance between them.

Along with his increased notoriety in the school, his magical ineptitude was drawing renewed interest from both his classmates and the visiting students, who found it necessary to comment upon it loudly and within his hearing. They found it incongruous, that the boy who was said to have fought and maybe even killed dementors, and who had been selected as one of the Champions of a magical school renowned for the achievements of its alumni, would be so shockingly bad at casting spells.

Gaara had struggled casting spells since he arrived, with one theory being that he was unable to adequately throttle the volume of magic he was delivering into each spell, causing half of them to explode. Draco had given him a great deal of help, with extra tips and help practicing them so that, while he was still at the bottom of the passing margin in his classes, he did still manage to pass them. With Draco otherwise engaged, Gaara had to approach the only other person he could rely upon in the school to help him (without leading to other headaches, like with asking Granger, or any of the dozens of people who tried to insinuate themselves with him every day.)

Luna was more than happy to help him practice, both for the social aspect as well as for her academic curiosity over the cause of his difficulties. She had been dedicating this year at Hogwarts to learning about the nature of magic, which was, as it sounded, a lot trickier than most would be to delve into. For instance, she had started her journey of discovery with a series of apparently enlightening Norse poems that she said had enumerated some of the less tangible concepts of magic. When she had tried reading them for Gaara, he stopped her after six Norwegian stanzas since he felt he knew less about the nature of magic than when he had started.

Luna was, sadly, not much better as an instructor than Draco was, but they were each deficient in different ways. While Draco was unsympathetic and impatient, Luna was too easily side-tracked and obsessed by the irrelevant theory of spells Gaara only needed help in casting. Still, she did a great deal to help him keep up with his peers.

In was during one of these practice sessions that Luna realised she was just as tall as Gaara was. Being one of the shorter girls in her year, which was the one below Gaara's, it was surprising to find them perfectly eye-to-eye.

Interesting as this observation was, even Luna knew better than to actually mention it to him. Still, it was a perfectly strange effect of Gaara being in this world, she thought. However, sadly, there was almost nothing she could read on the subject that might offer any insight. Luna had started a journal to note down some of her research findings and observations about Gaara (ciphered in an impenetrable code), in case she ever wanted to publish a paper about his experiences. But she couldn't share a word of it while Gaara was still here, hiding his origins.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Gaara thought there might be someone hiding around the corner when he approached, but his sand did nothing to prevent them from grabbing the shoulder of Gaara's robe and pulling him aside and throwing him against the wall. It cushioned what might have been a jarring impact with the wall, but otherwise it did not seem to think this represented an attack. Seeing Potter standing there, looking about as happy to have forced the encounter as Gaara was to receive it, Gaara himself doubted there was any real danger.

"What?" He asked, hoping this would not end up being another attempt at a heart-to-heart.

Potter glared at him, looking like he would rather be anywhere else, but this frustrated Gaara, despite him feeling exactly the same. It was only when Gaara pushed off against the wall in a bid to leave that Potter finally spoke.

"I've something to tell you, hold on."

"What is it?"

"I- I found out what the first Task will be. Or, at least, what's going to be involved. It wouldn't be fair if I didn't tell you, so, it's dragons." He said, "They're going to make us do something involving dragons!"

"I know."

"What?"

"I've known about the dragons for around a week now." Gaara said.

"You've known about the dragons in the forest that we'll have to face for a week and you didn't think to tell me?" After Harry had deliberated and finally decided to share the advantage, rather than risk Gaara coming to unnecessary harm because of his ignorance.

"I did not think it was a secret. They are in open cages in the middle of the forest for anyone to find."

Harry couldn't believe his ears. He roared with frustration and then stormed off before he could do something he might regret, like reducing the number of Champions to the correct three.

Gaara watched him go and tried to work out if he was now supposed to tell Delacour and Krum about the humongous fire-breathing lizards out in the forest, since nobody seemed capable of going for a walk in this world.

"Of course you shouldn't say anything!" Had been Draco's reaction that evening in their room. Draco had initially been shocked by the presence and future involvement of his namesake, as well as by the stupidity of Potter for ceding the advantage. But ultimately, Draco felt it was his duty as Gaara's friend (and as the stand-in for Gaara's missing common sense) to remind him that "It's a competition. You're competing!"

"Potter told me."

"That's because he's a stupid, poxy Gryffindor! Merlin help me!" Draco would have thrown his hands in the air if his narrow allowance for histrionics would have permitted it. "Leave them alone to figure it out themselves."

Gaara thought it was a little unfair, to exclude the other two Champions like this, and tournaments like this were supposed to be fair, but being a shinobi, Gaara was used to ignoring any such notions of fair play when needed. Plus, Draco knew far more about Wizarding customs and culture than Gaara ever intended to learn, so Gaara would have to take him at his word that this was how the Triwizard Champions were supposed to conduct themselves.

Speaking of how to act in the Tournament, Luna asked, in their next practice session in the Forbidden Forest, what Gaara's strategy for the first Task was going to be. There would be some competition against the dragons, and presumably the challenges would be individual, since there was one dragon per Champion.

"I will defeat it." Gaara said.

He had read up on dragons after first discovering them in the forest, and he had even asked Hagrid about them, since the half-giant seemed to be an enthusiast of some kind. They were large, possessed sharp teeth and talons, could fly, and almost all of them could breathe fire. Even if the fire posed an increased risk, Gaara was confident he would be able to take down any of the dragons with his sand.

"If you say so." Luna had said, continuing to read her latest book on dragon wrangling and management, just in case Gaara's sand or animal magnetism fail to do the job. She was sat on one of Fluffy's paws at that point, having grown so used to the presence of the enormous Cerberus that it seemed only natural to rest with the dog.

Fluffy for his part seemed to like any positive human attention, after they came to trust one of the diminutive redhead's friends. Draco had not yet earned the privilege of approaching Fluffy, which he said he was okay with. After all, Luna was already covered in slobber from Fluffy's panting heads stationed directly above her, which was a common occurrence. She had brought an umbrella with her once, to guard her book from the slobber rain, but Fluffy thought it was a toy and… Luna needed an new umbrella.

"Draco and I are worried you've not prepared enough." Luna said after biting her lip.

"You've been talking with Draco?" It wasn't an accusation, more a surprise. Gaara had been under the impression that Draco only tolerated Luna's presence on rare occasions when they were around Gaara. To hear that they had been meeting up and discussing Gaara was… odd.

"Just the once."

Gaara would admit, he had not taken to preparing for the first Task with the same zeal that was exhibited by the other Champions. Potter had spent more time in the Library over the past couple of weeks than he had probably spent in the last three years. And he had seen Delacour and Krum on separate occasions practicing their spells or even duelling their classmates. Gaara, on the other hand, had been reading a series of novels.

"He and I are just worried."

"Yes, Draco had expressed concern to me directly."

"He has?" Luna asked. Her acquaintance with Draco was not a deep one, but she was surprised to hear Draco was, in fact, the kind of person to open up and share his feelings like this.

"Indeed. He tried to hex me because he was frustrated." Gaara had taken five minutes to work out why Draco had tried, and failed, to cast a relatively harmless spell at him.

"Really?! Were you okay?"

"Of course. My sand protected me, as always. In any case, friendship is sometimes violent."

"What do you mean by that?" Luna asked, tilting her head.

"My first friend once head butted me." Gaara reminisced.

"Oh my! Why did they do that?"

"I was trying to kill him and everyone he loved. It's how we became friends." It was admittedly a rather abridged recounting of the Konoha-Suna war, but it contained the most important parts.

"…right…"

"After that, he sometimes used to throw rocks at me when we met."

"He threw rocks at you? Are you sure you were friends?"

"Yes. He knew they would not hit me. My sand protects me absolutely. He was also an idiot." There could be no more apt a description.

"He sounds like a bully to me."

"No, he was the only one who would make fun of me. He treated me like a person, an equal. It was… nice. And he stopped throwing things at me eventually."

"Why did he stop?"

"I started throwing things back at him." Of course, instead of pebbles and twigs, what Gaara threw back at him were large clods of sand. "Draco is my friend, he is not afraid of me."

"Well, I'm not afraid of you either, but I won't throw hexes or rocks at you." Luna said quickly.

"Thank you." Gaara replied.

Luna was very kind to him, but Gaara was becoming suspicious that this latest kindness might have been motivated by Luna's obsessive desire to spend time with Gaara in his transformed state on the full moon, which happened to be that night.

After last month's unpleasantness, Draco had made Gaara promise to not resist the transformation again. It had nearly killed them both and, even if Gaara believed there was a chance that a subsequent month might have changed the circumstance, Gaara was willing to keep his promise this time and just transform.

Besides the promise, it wasn't too long until the first Task and Gaara didn't want to be in the process of recovering from fractured bones or missing nails in the finals days before competing. He did not anticipate having to do much moving but it wasn't worth the undue risk to avoid the routine humiliation of transforming.

That said, there was no reason anyone needed to see him in that ridiculous form.

Gaara waited all afternoon for Luna to bring up the evening but she did not. As smart as the Ravenclaw girl was, there was no chance she had forgotten what was to happen so Gaara hoped in vain that Luna might have overcome her fixation.

If he had seen the notebook she dedicated to drawing and theorising about his world's tanuki, he would have given up on that hope.

In the evening, when he was alone, Gaara transformed like normal (a relative concept) without incident. He was out in the forest again, since his fur insulated him well enough against the winter chill and Draco had seemed averse to him staying. Whether this was related to the horrific memories of last month, the ongoing distance between them, the mound of homework Draco had to do, or whatever secret project he was working on, Gaara didn't know. But Gaara had no interest in imposing where he wasn't wanted.

And it was pleasant to run in this form.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Not long after the full moon, over halfway through November, Gaara was suffering under the noxious miasma of Snape's latest round of Potions torture, which Gaara suspected had been planned at least in part to make him feel nauseous, when he was rescued from the latter half of the lesson by a boy, apparently called Colin Creevey.

The nervous-looking boy had knocked on the classroom door and Gaara could not tell whether he had seemed more frightened by Snape's furious approach, or Gaara's more placid one. Snape, always glad to be rid of Gaara, however was less pleased by his class being interrupted for no good reason. And he certainly did not believe a nonsensical ritual related to the damned Triwizard Tournament anywhere near a good reason.

The momentary pleasure of terrifying the uncharacteristically meek Gryffindor could not last, though, so as soon as the Creevey boy had requested both Potter and Gaara, Snape ordered them both out of his laboratory like it had been his idea in the first place.

Harry had jumped to his feet when Snape shouted his name, a habit developed after years of persecution in that very classroom, and came at once to the door. Gaara was more sedate, never one to be beckoned like a dog.

"You are to go with Mr Creevey." Snape said, about as civilly as he ever addressed either of them. "One of your classmates will share with you the homework assignment following today's lesson. You will write double the length, to make up for the missed lesson."

"But sir-!" Harry tried but Snape had somehow manoeuvred them to stand outside the doorway during his short speech, and then promptly slammed the door in their faces as Harry tried to protest that he did not want to be involved in the Tournament.

Gaara had no such excuse, and he did not mind so much having to write extra homework for the lesson if it would help him escape the laboratory. It would be like when he had skipped Potions entirely last year and had devoted the time instead to self-study.

Harry didn't dwell on Snape's eternal hatred of him, having accepted it as a foregone conclusion in his third year, instead he turned to Colin to see where they had to go.

Colin was petrified. Here were the boy he admired and the boy he feared standing right in front of him.

After the silence drew on, Harry cleared his throat, hoping that might prompt Colin while causing the least embarrassment.

"Oh, right, yes, of course…" He started. "Professor McGonagall sent me to fetch you, and bring you to Dumbledore's office." Colin glanced at Gaara and stumbled out, "Professor Dumbledore, that is."

Gaara raised an invisible eyebrow. Did this boy think he minded that informality? Strange.

"Sure, Colin. Lead the way." Harry said with a smile. He was a bit twitchy, but Colin was a good guy.

"Yes, sir!" Colin said, before blushing and clarifying, "I mean, yes, Harry… yes. Let's… follow me." He seemed to lose some steam at the end.

They started the climb through the castle, Harry already wishing he had been taking a lesson on a higher floor before this summons. He was an athlete (as much of an athlete as could be found in the wizarding world), but even Harry knew his thighs would be burning by the time they had climbed the dozens of staircases to get to Dumbledore's office near the top of the castle. If they had been sent for, they couldn't dilly dally or take their time.

Harry was about to make a commiserative comment to Gaara walking beside him, but then he remembered that they weren't friends and Gaara strangely always seemed impervious to the unavoidable lethargy that came with puberty. In fact, despite Gaara's increasingly apparent stunted growth, and petite frame, he was actually very physically able. It might explain some of the otherwise inexplicable confidence Gaara displayed regarding the Tournament.

Well… his physical prowess alongside that powerful sand trick of his. Harry had seen a couple of people try to puzzle out the spell last year, and a couple dozen try it this year following the display against the dementors in the summer. No one had been able to do much more than make little sand tornadoes in their hands, but that had satisfied the majority who only wanted to be able to do just such a trick.

Gaara had found the entire thing unsettling, like any of the trends that had sprung up around him, but it had faded soon enough when a popular sixth year had switched to a new braided hairstyle and that had diverted their attentions.

Harry ended up walking a little ahead, to stride alongside Colin since it was unsettling to be next to Gaara for so long without forcing at least some conversation, in which neither of them were inclined to indulge. The downside was that Colin soon forgot his nerves and began to chatter animatedly about the 'atmosphere' in the school ("It's electric!") among other things.

"-and of course Dennis thinks it's something silly like fighting a chimera, but I reckon it'll be something like an obstacle course or a scavenger hunt, you know." Colin rattled on, almost impossible to stop after he got started.

"I don't think it's going to be a scavenger hunt." Harry said wistfully. If only…

Colin looked at Harry's grimace and tried to think of something to lighten his mood, having heard that Harry Potter wasn't entirely confident about his impending performance in the Tournament.

"Don't worry, Harry. I'm sure you'll do well no matter what it is." He said. "After all, you're the real Champion for Hogwarts." Colin said this with a smile that lasted all four seconds before his own thoughtless statement made him think of the other boy, walking silently three feet behind him. Colin glanced behind himself with pantomime fear, as if he honestly believed Gaara would be in the process of assassinating him.

Gaara was still just walking along; looking quite distracted, in fact. Not that Gaara would have taken any interest in the comment, had he paid attention to hear it.

"Don't worry about him. He's actually pretty harmless." Harry whispered. Colin didn't look like he believe him, and Harry wasn't sure he trusted what he had said either.

Colin eventually stumbled back to his previous pace alongside Harry and only took half a dozen more frantic glances backwards before he was reasonably convinced that Gaara might not have heard him besmirch his Champion status. Or, if Gaara had heard it, he would hold off on his revenge until Colin had already forgotten about the whole thing, then he would strike!

"So, do you know what this is about?" Harry asked Colin, interrupting his ridiculous train of thought.

"No- er… no. Professor McGonagall just told me to get you for a Triwizard event."

"Oh. Any ideas, Gaara?" Harry asked him.

"Yes."

Harry looked at him long and hard but the way Gaara glanced back at him, confusion written all over his face, indicated that the redhead had not meant to be difficult. He was simply an idiot.

"What do you think this is about?"

"It is the Weighing of the Wands, on the 21st of November. We were told about it." Not to mention Gaara had read about it preceding the first Task in just about every book on the Triwizard Tournament.

"That's today?" Harry vaguely remembered being told about this ceremony, but compared to the Tasks and the tourney and the Yule Ball, it hadn't registered.

"Yes." Gaara said redundantly.

"Only five days until the first Task!" Colin helpfully added in his excited tone.

Harry felt sick.

The staircase to Dumbledore's office was already waiting for them when they arrived, which was a shame as Harry would have appreciated a couple of minutes to regain his breath. In an effort to reduce the time he spent in proximity to Gaara now that he felt he had insulted him, Colin had set a fast pace up to the top of the castle, and Harry was breathing a little harder than he would like.

Evidently, without the House Quidditch cup and corresponding practices, Harry had fallen a little out of shape. He would need to work on that, even if it was too late for the first Task.

"Thanks, Colin." Harry said between breaths so neither Colin, who was suffering even worse, and Gaara, who seemed unaffected, would hear just how out of breath he was.

"No problem." Colin looked like he wanted to say something else but then he looked Gaara in the eyes and started speed walking away instead. Gaara said nothing, instead turning to ascend the final staircase and get this over with. The books had been vague about the exact procedure involved in the Weighing of the Wands, though it had said enough to indicate that there would be nothing of great concern for someone like Gaara. That just left him with the annoyance of a probable publicity event.

In the usually serene office were waiting many more people than either Harry or Gaara had been expecting. Both of the other Champions and their head teachers were already waiting for them, along with their own headmaster and deputy headmistress. Those people, Gaara had expected, but the others…

Dumbledore's office was normally quite spacious, rarely hosting more than a few people at once, and here were dozens. Fudge had brought along Crouch and Bagman, along with a handful of Ministry flunkies and Henrick Morbidus hovering behind them, all huddled in an officious flock. There were also quite a few reporters and photographers dotted about, taking pictures of everyone, and then snapping a couple hundred pictures of Gaara and Harry as they entered.

The reporters all rushed forwards to start their badgering but McGonagall was quicker, despite her age, and she managed to guide the boys over to where the Champions were to await the start of the proceedings. When they hurried over to the other side of the room, Gaara saw that the man who had sold him his wand was also present. He must have been an important wand expert to have come all the way from London for this, Gaara thought.

The din of reports repeatedly shouting inane questions was beginning to upset Gaara quite profoundly, to the extent that he was already planning to leave the event and make his apologies later. He had said he would participate in the Tournament and win it, but he did not think he could stand this sort of atmosphere. Not for long anyway. Shukaku was screaming some familiar suggestions and it was starting to make the backs of Gaara's eyes ache.

When was the last time he had slept? It might have been a few days, definitely no more than a week. Still, it was already souring his mood.

"Now, if I can have everybody's attention!" Fudge announced, stepping up and turning so the cameras would get his good side, forgetting that the magical cameras would capture him turning and posing, looking less regal than he had planned. Clearly Fudge was still trying to run things.

Gaara was just about to use this distraction to slip back and away to the door or, failing that, the window. He wouldn't make a sound and no one would notice his absence for a couple of minutes. And then a hand settled on Gaara's shoulder.

"Thank you for coming, boys." Dumbledore said warmly, his other hand on Potter's shoulder. "Minister Fudge, perhaps we should give Minister Bagman some room to start proceedings properly. He is running the event, is he not?"

The scowl on Fudge's face betrayed his fury, his head turning a very Dursley colour shade of purple. Clearly the bad blood between Dumbledore and Fudge had not improved in the past few months.

Gaara was not paying attention to these undercurrents, however; he was wondering how the old man had anticipated his escape and held him in place so efficiently.

Bagman blinked owlishly, startled to, in fact, be running the event he was supposed to be running. "Right, yes. Well, let's begin." He said with wide arms. "We're here for the traditional Weighing of the Wands, which is a ceremony which dates back to the Tournament of 1645, after one of the Champions in the previous Tournament was killed by a faulty wand."

Harry blanched at the casual mention of death. Gaara couldn't go much paler, but he was now a little more nervous. Of course, the name had indicated that his wand might be inspected a little, but he had hoped to claim it was an old wand that he had received damaged. Instead, the wand salesman might recognise it from last year and call him out on his bald-faced lie. After all, Gaara had been intermittently been whittling, carving and using his wand as a shoe horn for the past year.

All of this had probably not helped Gaara's spell casting. Luna had claimed it could take half the blame for Gaara's spectacular failure on most of the spells he tried to cast now. Luckily, he was rarely, if ever, called upon to demonstrate spells in classes and if he quietly skipped out on doing the practical parts of the lessons, the professors mostly turned a blind eye to save on repairing the damage should he have attempted whatever simple spell was being learned. Gaara was betting on receiving Dumbledore's help at the end of the year as he doubted he would pass another end-of-year exam like he had last year.

And now the entire wizarding world would know just how reckless and destructive he had been with his wand. Hopefully they wouldn't stoop to saying such hurtful things on the subject as Draco regularly did.

"Your wands will be your most important assets in the Tasks to come, so the foremost expert in wandlore in Britain, perhaps the world, will examine them each in turn." Bagman said, unknowingly rubbing it in.

The Champions were asked to line up and only when all eyes were on them did Dumbledore take his hand off of Gaara's shoulder. Gaara ensured he was stood at the end of the queue, to give himself as long as possible to come up with an excuse.

"Now, Mr Ollivander, if you would be so kind, would you examine each of the Champions' wands, please?" Bagman said.

"Yes, of course." Ollivander said, shuffling over to the end of the line, to Krum first.

Viktor sullenly stepped forward and surrendered his wand to Ollivander. Krum appeared to be in a foul mood, but Gaara was not a good judge of these things. People often thought he was in a worse (or more murderous) mood than he really was. Then again, Gaara was currently in a 'medium' murderous mood and he expected his glare was reflecting this.

"Yes, yes, quite nice. A Gregorovitch wand, if I'm not mistaken. One of the world's finest crafters, though very different from how I prefer to do things." Ollivander's words ended in a mutter as he started to look closely at the thick wand, paying no attention to the tight nod Viktor supplied to confirm the maker's identity. Ollivander held it in both of his hands and tested its flexibility and then ran his fingers along its polished surface. "A very fine example, indeed. Ten and a quarter inches, quite inflexible, hornbeam wood and a dragon heartstring core. Lovely."

Gaara wondered how the man was able to discern not only the type of wood, which might have come from specialist experience, but also the core embedded in the wood by some proprietary means. There was no way to see the core, so how did he know? And if it was some magical ability, how come the wandmaker had not been able to tell what was in Gaara's wand when he bought it? Peculiar.

The man, in full view of the press, used the wand to conjure some bright sparks and then cast a simple spell. Both were performed without any issue so Ollivander pronounced the wand as being ready for the Tournament. It was handed back to Krum, who didn't so much as look at it before he holstered the wand at his hip again.

Fleur was in a comparably bright mood, smiling sweetly at the old man as she stepped forward to hand over her wand. Ollivander smiled sweetly back at her, a sign that he was just as charmed by her as all of the other males in the room, barring Dumbledore, whose expression had not changed at all. Gaara wondered if his age protected him from whatever effect she exuded on men. But then why didn't it work on Gaara?

Ollivander paid the same careful attention to Fleur's wand as he had Viktor's. "Hmm, most peculiar. Might this contain Veela hair?"

Fleur smiles wider and said in her thick accent, "Yes, it does."

"Interesting, very interesting. That must make for quite a temperamental wand."

"It is well suited to a temperamental girl." She replied.

Ollivander blinked and then laughed heartily. "Yes, yes, quite right."

"It was my grandmother's after all." Fleur added.

"Your grandmother's?" He asked, re-examining its polished surface. "It's remarkably well-kept, in that case."

"No, the hair was my grandmother's. She gifted it to me so my parents could have the wand made specially."

"Oh! That's a novel idea! I must ask you more about this." Crouch loudly cleared his throat, startling Ollivander who had been so focused on the wands as to forget everything and everyone else in the room. "Another time, perhaps." He sounded sullen, perhaps rueful of the limited opportunities for such interesting conversations, especially at his advanced age.

"Onward, then." He said. "A nice, sturdy 9 1/2 inch rosewood wand; an elegant example." He cast a shower of sparks and the conjured a bouquet of roses to hand to the beautiful young lady. Fleur smiled demurely, used to the unwanted but ultimately harmless attentions of older men, and accepted her wand and her roses.

The flowers were found dumped in the bin of a nearby classroom an hour later by Filch, who put them in his finest crystal vase and proudly displayed them in his office/cupboard. Despite appearances, no one who truly knew Filch could say he didn't have an appreciation for the finer things in life. Sadly, the only being who knew the caretaker like that was Mrs Norris, and she wasn't talkative enough to let the secret out.

As Ollivander had been examining both Fleur's and Viktor's wands and marvelling at their pristine conditions, so had everyone else in the room. The assorted press were taking pictures of the wands that they almost certainly wouldn't use unless the story encompassed more than two or three pages of their magazines and newspapers.

Harry has also been watching, always having been curious about wands, and now he felt rather embarrassed by the mucky state of his own. It hadn't occurred to him before that moment to clean his wand and make it look presentable. Looking down at it, he now noticed all of the smudges, finger marks and minute scratches and scuffs that covered it. Where the other Champions had handed over wands with mirror shines that could have just been taken out of the box, Harry's looked entirely dull.

In what the scruffy teenager thought was a subtle move, Harry casually wrapped his wand in a fold of his equally shabby robes and tried to polish some of the marks off of his it without anybody noticing. Of course, several reporters noticed and made sure to snap pictures of the young Boy-Who-Lived looking, as he was, like a schoolboy caught short.

It was just fortunate that, in consideration of the slim possibility that he might be observed in the office filled with cameras and journalists, Harry had resisted the temptation to dab a little spit on his wand to clean it a bit better. That would have made the picture of Harry used in most of tomorrow's papers all the more embarrassing. It was already pretty bad compared the statuesque and regal-looking photos of Delacour and Krum that ran alongside it.

Harry looked up from his trying to buff out the scratch from the time Ron had tried to use his wand in second year and dropped it out a window when it sparked viciously, to find Ollivander was already standing in front of him waiting. All pretence of subtlety was now gone so Harry blushed furiously red and stood up straight. He held out his wand haphazardly, lacking the elegance of the other presentations, but Ollivander's receipt betrayed no sign of diminished awe.

"Now this is a wand with which I am familiar. No doubt you remember, Mr Potter, what I told you of it and its sibling wand three years ago." How could Harry forget. "It certainly looks like it has been put to a lot of use since then, I would say."

"Excuse me, sir," one reporter yelled from the back of the crowd with an Eastern European accent, "what do you mean by 'sibling wand'?"

Ollivander looked a bit aggrieved to be interrupted so abruptly, but before he could turn to answer, Crouch spoke up. "No questions, please! No questions. You may address any questions to the Champions after the ceremony."

"Hmm, yes." Ollivander muttered, turning his attention back to Harry's wand. "Eleven inches of supple holly wood with a Phoenix feather core. An excellent wand, if I do say so myself."

Harry's attention was drawn to the loud scribbling of the journalists in their notebooks. He'd never thought he would be grateful to the Ministry, but Crouch had just saved him from having to try and explain why his wand's core was somehow linked to Voldemort's.

Ollivander cast some bright golden sparks, in a larger cluster than either of the others' wands had managed, Harry noted smugly. Next, the wand maker conjured a small but ornate table on which a delicate statue of a Phoenix sat, for only a moment before Ollivander banished the boastful construct back to the aether.

"Yes, that should do nicely." Ollivander added as his final verdict before handing Harry's wand back to him.

Finally, it was Gaara's turn.

"I've been wanting to see you and your wand again for some time, Mr Gaara." Ollivander said. "After you were chosen by it, I made it a little project to try and learn a bit more about it and the other antique wands in my shop."

Gaara didn't move.

Ollivander smiles reassuringly and then held out his hand. "Your wand?"

Gaara still didn't move. It wasn't the most effective tactic for avoiding the impending awkwardness but it was all Gaara could do without running out of the ceremony, which he now recalled would breach his deal with the headmaster.

Ollivander was looking a little confused now, his smile slipping. He looked around nervously and back at Gaara. "Your wand, Gaara?"

Gaara considered lying and saying he hadn't brought it with him but, beyond the shock this would elicit from the magic folk who seemed abashed whenever anyone misplaced their wand for a week because they'd used it as a bookmark and returned it to the Library, Gaara doubted the Hogwarts residents present would believe him. People were starting to anticipate him, to Gaara's consternation.

Gaara drew his wand.

"W-what happened?!" Ollivander immediately snatched the wand away and held it up to the light to get a better look at the damage Gaara had wrought. "What did you do to it?"

"Is something the matter?" Ludo Bagman said, stepping forward to peer around the wand maker and see what the fuss was about.

The press were also snapping more pictures of the backs of Ollivander's and Bagman's heads as they looked at the unseen wand.

"An animal chewed on it." Gaara lied flatly.

"An animal?" Bagman asked, bewildered.

"Chewed on it?! You let an animal chew on your wand?" Ollivander was taken aback, both by the thought of such carelessness and also by the quite obvious lie, judging by the clear knife marks in the wood.

"It was too fast for me to stop it." Gaara continued his lie.

The other adults in the office were beginning to draw in closer. Harry was rubbing his closed eyes under his glasses, staving off a more histrionic reaction to Gaara's latest spectacle. And both Dumbledore and McGonagall were staying well back, unsurprised that Gaara would cause the issue. Minerva, for one, had already seen the late entrant mangling his wand. She had told Severus and washed her hands of the matter. Evidently his Head of House had failed to rectify Gaara's inexplicable behaviour.

"Will it still function?" Fudge finally spoke. He was red in the face, as he often seemed to be as far as Gaara had observed. Evidently, the man was upset at one of the British Champions already derailing the Tournament again, before the bloody Tasks had even started. This was supposed to be a formality!

"Will he still be able to compete with that?" Fleur asked from her end of the line. She sounded concerned but Gaara assumed this was faked for the sake of the witnesses. What sort of person would be concerned about a competitor?

The Ministry officials were hard at work, keeping the reporters from circling around and getting a closer look at Ollivander's horror.

The old man, for his part, was studying the wand closely, inspecting every facet and every hole Gaara had carved out of the scarred thing. "This wand is hundreds of years old, made out of African blackwood. A wood that's no longer used because it was too hard to work, and ebony is a perfectly good alternative. However, dense as it is, all of these marks and holes might not have ruined it completely. I'm not sure what core was used but, since it's not been exposed, the wand should still work. If just." The expert did not sound entirely sure.

"Those antique wands are not very reliable." Gaara heard Krum quietly opine.

"It functions well enough," Gaara said in defence of his 'carelessness', but quietly added, "though, it has become marginally more temperamental." But Gaara didn't consider this to be all that important in a tool.

Ollivander straightened up a bit and held out the wand. The wand failed to do anything at first, but then a couple of stray sparks shot out and finally Ollivander was able to cast some sparks, though they now came out with a bit more force than was probably intended. After proving it was still at least a conduit of magic, he transfigured a nearby chair into an austere-looking table.

"I wouldn't dare call it perfect, or even in a reasonable condition, but considering how perilous the task of finding him a suitable wand was in the first place, I believe it will suffice for the moment."

With this dubious assurance, and the demand that Gaara come and see him in the summer holidays, Ollivander was finished. Gaara had hoped that this might signal the end of the silly event, but his life was never that convenient. Bagman coughed into his hand to get everyone's attention.

"As I am sure you will all remember, the Weighing of the Wands for this Triwizard Tournament is where both the Champions and the public will also be told the nature of the first Task that these four brave Champions will face in a few days. With the nature revealed, they will be able to hone their strategies and refine their spells ready for the day."

Bagman's enthusiasm for all of this seemed uncalled for, Gaara thought. Not least because presumably all of the Champions, the Hogwarts staff and the Ministry representatives knew about the handful of dragons less than two miles from the castle's gate. Plus it was a potentially deadly contest involving school children.

"For the first Task of this Triwizard Tournament, you-" he finally addressed the focuses of the event, "will be facing dragons!"

If Bagman had expected a reaction from the teenagers, he would have been sorely disappointed with only Harry's pallor. Indeed, nobody reacted much at all, with the Ministry people always looking rather dour and the Hogwarts professors following suit, entirely bemused by the event or the attempts at spectacle surrounding it.

Then the dam broke and the reporters went into a frenzy, trying to ask questions and snap pictures of the four. Apparently the world's press were the last to know about quartet of fire-breathing monsters near the prestigious boarding school.

Bagman tried to continue despite the shouting. "Now, I can't say exactly what the challenge will be, but there are some rules for the participation that we will disclose ahead of time. Including, that the dragons should not be harmed during the Task. This will incur a steep penalty in… " He trailed off when he could scarcely hear himself speak.

"Quiet! Quiet, please." Crouch entreated them. "We will be taking questions in a moment. There is still more to be said."

Gaara dearly hoped this wasn't about a dress code for the event or some such nonsense.

"Thank you, Barty." Ludo said. "Now, the Champions will all be wearing specially designed uniforms for the Task, in order to prevent any enchantments or charms from being applied to their clothing. And, of course, the Champions may only bring their wands into the Task, and they may not receive any help from witches, wizards, or magical creatures outside of the arena during the Task."

"So we can't bring anything else with us?" Harry asked. Half of the ideas he and Sirius had been thinking up had necessitated him bringing his Firebolt with him.

"The rule states that when a Champion enters the arena for the Task, they may only take their wands in with them." Bagman clarified.

"Good. As it should be. I will only need my wand anyway." Krum again spike up.

"This much I had assumed." Fleur added dismissively.

It was certainly a cause for concern, but Harry's attention was drawn instead to Gaara, who actually looked frozen. It wasn't his usual stoic nonchalance; Gaara wasn't reacting to anything around him.

"Now, as was stated earlier at the opening ceremony, tickets will be allocated-"

As Ludo Bagman droned on about the allocation of tickets to Champions, paying guests, students, and the press as well as the various means by which external parties might arrive at the castle on the day, Gaara's mind was still stubbornly refusing to work on a solution to this latest, disastrous problem. He could bring nothing into the Task with him except for a potentially broken wand and the clothes on his back. No sand.

Then another thought occurred to the redhead that compounded the impending crisis of the first Task. Draco was going to be absolutely insufferable after having told Gaara not to rely exclusively on his sand in the Tournament.

Maybe if he rescinded Draco's invitation to watch, he'd never find out?

Then again, he'd probably just have his father buy him a ticket and would be both smug and angry.

In Gaara's mental absence, Bagman had finished explaining the minutiae, and when tuned back in, Bagman was saying, "Now we will be opening the floor to questions for the Champions. Thank you for your patience."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

A/N: Again, as always, I want to take the infrequent opportunity to thank my friends on this site, the reviewers, messengers, and artists that have kept this story alive.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter.

Until next time.