3/4

So, he would grill look into some sort of ongoing talk-therapy, finish his animagus training, and then try and create a stable atmosphere to continue raising the precocious boy. That seemed simple enough.

Sirius had been staring longer than Gaara would normally have allowed but the smallest person in the interrogation cell was so out of it he didn't look like he had noticed. With the lapsed conversation, Amelia was also examining the boy. She had seen him a couple times and his (surprisingly thin) file as many times again, being something of a curiosity to a number of the higher Ministry staff, having witnessed his dramatic entrance to deliver Pettigrew at the beginning of the summer and the stories of his involvement in the Attack on Hogwarts (or single-handed defeat of the dementors, depending on who you asked). Now he had apparently killed a couple of rioters at the World Cup; although, from the spotty details about that 'riot', she was already starting to question how simple the situation really was.

Unfortunately, Amelia would probably not get any way towards the truth with either of these two if they did manage to refrain from commenting before their solicitor arrived. She had heard Black hired the biggest, fanciest, most conniving magical law firm his family's money could buy, to arrive at the curious custody agreement he was awarded and to keep from ever getting sent back to Azkaban (guilty or innocent).

As soon as his private shark arrived, Amelia would be lucky to confirm whether or not they had even attended the World Cup.

The door opened and for a moment she thought said shark had appeared like the proverbial devil, but instead someone wearing Ministry healer robes entered before Galloway. Healers were rare and the Ministry only employed a few, but the DMLE had insisted on having a couple of their own on constant standby for wounded Aurors and suspects. The real issue had been getting healers, who were typically soft touches, that would be able to keep quiet and treat prisoners with the due objectivity.

They couldn't have them coddling murderers just because they'd been roughed up a little.

Still, this Gaara was a child and Amelia had been concerned whatever healer was brought in would undermine the intimidation she was attempting to instil.

Fortunately, Healer Jeffries was nothing if not professional and looked at Gaara with all of the sympathy elicited by a broken teacup that needed fixing. He dragged Galloway's unoccupied stool around and sat right in front of Gaara, who did not seem to have noticed any of this happening. Amelia was now joining Sirius in his worry for Gaara's mind, since the boy as acting catatonic.

Sirius nudged him, "Gaara."

Gaara blinked a looked like he had been daydreaming, suddenly startled out of his thoughts. He glanced at Sirius first and the Amelia, and then he seemed to register there was a new adult sat looking straight back at him. He looked back to Sirius, hoping for some explanation as to what had transpired while he was zoned out.

"They want to look at your eye, Gaara. Is that okay?" Sirius said, pretending to reason with his ward. Really, he needed to know if it was safe show them.

Gaara seemed to think for a moment and then nodded. His hands slowly raised, still bound together, and he rubbed his eye.

"You mustn't rub it!" The man sitting in front of him insisted, so Gaara lowered his hands and waited.

The healer leaned forward and placed his meticulously cleaned fingers around Gaara's eye and manually opened it. It was reddened, but otherwise unremarkable compared to the other eye. "What happened to it?" The healer asked as he pulled down the bottom lid and then pulled his hand back to check for signs of eyeliner.

Gaara looked to Sirius, wondering if he should say anything yet. Sirius hesitated and nodded slowly.

"I got dirt in it. It hurt to open it but it doesn't anymore." Gaara said, knowing full well that the soreness of his eye was due to his rubbing and not any grit.

"And what about the blackness around your eyes? It doesn't appear to be makeup," the healer asked.

"I'm an insomniac." Gaara flatly answered.

"Well, I don't see anything here that needs my help. I could prescribe a dreamless sleep potion, if it would help."

"That won't be necessary. Thank you, Healer Jeffries." Amelia interjected before Gaara could politely refuse. Truth be told, Amelia couldn't let her suspect get a good night's rest before she even had her chance to properly question him.

The healer left the room without a second glance and they went back to silence, except for the sound of Galloway dragging his stool back around to beside Bones'.

It couldn't have been more than five minutes later that there came a knock on the door. Behind it stood a goblin, like those working in the wizard bank, Gaara saw.

"Grimshred, of Burke, Doyle, Grimshred and Associates." The goblin growled as a greeting.

"Took you long enough. I was about to confess to being Gellert Grindlewald in disguise." Sirius snapped out.

"Mr Black, make no more jokes if you do not wish to spend unnecessary time here while I have to explain them away." The goblin said.

"I managed to restrain myself until you were here to defend me from the confusions." Sirius whined.

"My client and I will need to confer. Get out." Gaara was as impressed by the goblin temperament as he had been in Diagon Alley. For bankers, their dispositions uncannily mirrored those of warriors.

Once they were alone in the interrogation chamber, the goblin sat across from them and started to unpack his briefcase, pulling out a quill, ink and papers. He seemed to be in no rush at all, methodically uncapping his inkwell and dipping his quill and starting his paperwork.

"You haven't told them anything yet?"

"Nothing, just that Gaara had gotten some dirt in his eye and confirmed our names."

"Acceptable. What questions did they ask?"

"What happened, where Gaara comes from, that sort of thing." Sirius continued.

Gaara expected the goblin to ask the questions as well, to better defend them, but the small deformed creature asked no such things. It seemed entirely disinterested in the truth.

"How were you arrested? What were the charges?"

"It was all above board, but it is just Gaara under arrest. I'm here as his guardian. I thought Arthur would have told you that much. The charges were murder, underage magic in a restricted area, and…" He trailed off.

"Illegal use of a magical artefact." Gaara finished.

"What was the artefact?"

Sirius looked to Gaara to answer again, unsure of how to explain it properly.

"A gourd filled with sand. It has no independent magical properties, although it may register as magical. It's not an artefact." Gaara elaborated.

"Good." Grimshred noted down the point. "What did the Reverse Spell reveal from your wands?"

"I used a Blasting Curse and Gaara used a Wand-Lighting Charm." Sirius said.

Grimshred nodded and continued making notes. "Witnesses?"

"A few, and they saw him kill two people. He didn't use his wand. He can wandlessly control the sand in his gourd."

Grimshred stopped taking notes for a second, looking directly at Gaara, "The child is how old?"

"Fourteen as of January."

"Were the killings self-defence?"

"Yes." Sirius said it simply but in truth he wasn't so sure. The first attack, more like an assassination, had come unexpectedly when Gaara was safer to hide, and the second had not been defence at all. That had been murder.

"The witnesses will corroborate this?"

"Umm… They might or they might not."

Grimshred's quill scratched across his parchment as he crossed something out. "Any previous convictions or arrests?"

"None, although they did question him over his involvement with the capture of a… of Peter Pettigrew. He was never charged with anything."

"Any familial convictions?" Grimshred asked.

A sad reality of wizarding law was that the courts would openly assume guilt if a defendant had a long history of criminal relatives (Sirius assumed that played a part in his short, formality of a trial thirteen years ago.) "None, although as his guardian I would be counted on that score, right?"

"Correct. However, your conviction was overturned and record expunged."

"Ah, so will that take care of the cautions I received when I was younger."

"Yes, part of the settlement reached with the Ministry of Magic stipulated a total clearance of your record up to that point."

"Ah, brilliant." Sirius thought back to all of the warnings he had received when he was a teenager thanks to his father's influence. Were it not for the Black name, Sirius probably would have spent at least a couple months in Azkaban long before the betrayal.

"I will plead your ward down to two counts of manslaughter, maximum sentence of two years each." Grimshred said without looking up for his continued note taking.

Sirius' fond, reminiscent smile dropped and his eyes went wide at hearing the proposed bargain. He looked at Gaara but he didn't appear to be too worried. Knowing Gaara, he would escape within a week. But that confidence did not offer the same comfort to Sirius, it only emphasised Gaara's childish naïveté.

"That's not good enough. He can't got to Azkaban, I won't let he spend a single night there!"

"He will be sent there before his trial if formal charges are brought, regardless." The goblin didn't appear to appreciate the tone Sirius was taking with him.

"What about bail?"

"They can and will deny it without reason. Lack of a surname is ample enough to assume an escape risk."

Gaara had really wanted to avoid being on the run since it would make his goals infinitely more difficult to accomplish, but Sirius had told him only a few minor details of life in prison here and Remus had explained the rest. He would not waste away for four years, even if the dementors didn't affect him the same way as everyone else.

Plus, with his chakra, the dementors would swarm him as soon as he reached the black isle.

He would wait until they tried transporting him later. There was a good chance this cell had some sort of warding to prevent escape and he didn't want to have to wage war on every witch and wizard in the Ministry on his way out because he spent however long it would take to force his way through the barrier (if he even could…)

"So what can we do?" Sirius asked.

"If the interrogation goes on for…" Grimshred pulled out a shining gold watch and clicked open the pocket-watch case, "at least six more hours, they will not be able to process his papers and prepare him for transportation in time. He will spend the night in the cells here. I may be able to delay his transport another few days but it will likely be at least five months before a trial can be arranged but I should be able to have that admitted as time served should a prison term be issued."

Sirius couldn't believe it. Coming here, he had thought he was in for a couple days aggravation from the Ministry and maybe a slap on the wrist, not sending Gaara to Azkaban Prison for years!

"I will have the Aurors come back in. If we keep them any longer they will believe we are trying to delay."

Once Bones and Galloway had sat back down and Grimshred had taken Sirius' seat, the questioning resumed, formally this time.

They asked Gaara to recall the events that led to the murders that night but the Black family solicitor quickly interjected that it had not been established that the deaths, allegedly caused by his client, had in fact been murders. The interrogation went on for hours, with Gaara telling most of the story, being asked questions, and scarce more than five words being uttered by anyone without the goblin interrupting to stop Gaara incriminating himself or to object to the phrasing of the interrogators' questions.

Grimshred would stop Gaara every time he was about to retell his entry into the battle (and the resultant death) as well as the circumstances around the second death attributed to him. And the goblin would add words like 'attacker', 'combatants', 'self-defence', and 'proportionate response'.

If Gaara didn't already have the mother of all headaches, this experience certainly would have given him one. As it was, every time the 'bad cop', Galloway, raised his voice and asked him a stupid question, Gaara found it harder and harder to convince himself that killing the man would be bad.

Sirius sat back, looking terrified but keeping quiet. The only noises he would make were guttural ones when Galloway would accuse Gaara of being a 'monster', and gaping yawns. At around five in the morning, the interrogators stepped out to get coffee, the designated 'good cop', Bones, having offered to get some for the opposing adults too.

Gaara hadn't been asked but he didn't like coffee anyway.

Grimshred had started taking notes again and checking his watch. Sirius suspected he was calculating how many galleons he had already amounted.

Gaara was also calculating, though for him it was the amount of sand his armour would provide when the time came for his escape. Perhaps he could "borrow" some money from Draco and try fleeing abroad. He'd be able to find some useful libraries there, he thought. Plus Sirius, Remus and Draco couldn't be accused of aiding him since he would be so far away and no one would miss a little money from the Malfoy accounts.

Less than the three Malfoys spent on shoes in a quarter, Gaara would wager.

He was going to have to knock Sirius out as well, when he escaped, so that they weren't assumed to be colluding. It might be the last he saw of Sirius for a long while.

Still, this was the consequence for doing what Gaara did best. Everyone would be safer with Gaara in some distant land.

The door slid back open but instead of Bones and Galloway, there stood the insect-like Henrick Morbidus, his face tight and dull as always. He stepped in and slowly took his seat, eyeing Gaara the whole time.

"Good morning, my name is Henrick Morbidus. I work here as an inspector of sorts and I thought it was about time we met properly."

Gaara, who had not made eye contact with anyone, other than the healer who had insisted, found himself staring right back at the disquieting man. He was about to reply when, once again, the goblin beat him to it.

"And what capacity are you here in, Mr Morbidus." Grimshred demanded. He was about as well-informed as any goblin was likely to be about the major players in the Ministry of Magic and he was well aware of Morbidus' reputation. This was either a good sign, that Gaara was of interest to the Minister and might constitute a special case, or else he meant there was a determination that Gaara would being going to Azkaban and nothing any solicitor did would change that.

"As a guest in our country and in light of the notable role he played in the disturbance at Hogwarts at the end of the last school year, it was part of my duty to do a little research into Gaara here. But while he is in the Ministry, I thought it would be worthwhile to come down and have a little chat. Would that be acceptable?"

"Very well, but I will intercede if the conversation strays into any potentially incriminating topics." Grimshred ground out.

"That seems fair enough." Morbidus conceded. "Now, how are you feeling Gaara?"

"He is physically well following a brief eye examination by a Ministry healer." Grimshred answered.

"Very good," Morbidus responded, still looking right at Gaara.

"Before whatever occurred to bring you're here, did you have a pleasant evening?"

"Without admitting any real criminal cause for his arrest, my client was at the Quidditch World Cup finals and did attend the match as a leisure activity."

Gaara was bothered by both the goblin's answering all of the questions directed at him as if he weren't there, and for lying. Gaara had not watched the match as a 'leisure' activity, it was wholly obligation.

"I hear it was a rather good one, though I do not partake in sports myself."

Morbidus continued to throw out seemingly random questions and each one was answered (or deflected) by Grimshred who seemed wary of Gaara saying anything at all to the gaunt man. After twenty minutes of observing Gaara, Morbidus checked his watch and made his excuses, backing out of the room in either feigned deference or because he didn't want to show his back.

"Interesting." Gaara said to no one in particular after the door had closed.

A couple minutes after that, Galloway re-entered alone with a couple cups of very cold coffee, pretending he hadn't been waiting outside the door for his superior to leave.

He recommenced the interrogation but now Amelia was not there to hold him back, he tried every trick to get Gaara to snap and speak out. He played on Gaara's nonexistent vanity, his guilt, fear and self-hatred, and his pragmatism. While Gaara was more engaged than he had been earlier, it would have taken a lot more emotional manipulation to reach past his current planning-mode or beyond that to his horror.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

"How is it going down there?"

"All proceeding as expected, Minister. The Black family solicitor will not let the interrogation amount to much of anything."

"Well, it doesn't matter anyway. We've got him now and all of the lawyers in Britain won't stop me sending him somewhere secure and under our surveillance. More importantly, what are the reporters saying?"

"We have received the advance copies of the morning editions and it's not looking good. A number feature pictures of the Dark Mark cast over the campsite, one or two of the cheaper magazines have inflated the figures to dozens of dead."

"How many are there actually?"

"Seven, including the two that Gaara killed."

"Injured?"

"Fifteen serious injuries, including the werewolf acquaintance of Sirius Black, and a further twenty-nine minor injuries. Those numbers have all been inflated by all but one paper."

"How are they painting us?" Fudge dreaded this answer.

"As you would expect, sir. A lack of response, delays, bureaucracy, inefficiency, lack of leadership, lack of standing security, poor planning, and a number of ill-mannered personal attacks on yourself and other pertinent heads of department."

"Wonderful. At least I managed to keep the VIPs out of it all. Last thing we need is an international incident on top of all of this. What about the attackers, any word yet?"

"There were no immediate identifications at the time of the attack, as you would expect." Morbidus cleared his throat, "Due to the… physical nature of Gaara's second victim's death, identification has been delayed until further methods of verification can be employed. The first has, however, been named as Alistair Talridge, aged thirty-two."

"Talridge, as in the son of Samuel Talridge?"

"Yes, Minister, the very same."

"So there's a chance this wasn't just a riot that got out of hand?"

"A very real possibility, I would say, Minister. With the son of a convicted and Kissed Death Eater, the Dark Mark and the methods of those involved, it is perhaps even likely that this was the work of remnants of the Dark Lord's followers."

"Blast! Why now, after all these years?!" Fudge looked as angry as he ever had. "I'm hanging on by a thread, pulling out ideas from a hundred years ago just to keep the public distracted, and now those old bigots come out of the woodwork to, what, make a statement? Lodge a protest? Make my life miserable?"

"Sir," Morbidus started soothingly, "you might consider that one of those who fought against these suspected Death Eaters was one of our Aurors. Off duty, mind you. And that also there was another Ministry employee present, Arthur Weasley. Furthermore, Sirius Black, who you set free after over a decade of injustice thanks to previous administrations' ineptitude also helped fight off the troublemakers. If explained the right way to the journalists, we might be able to come out of this ahead."

"Do you think anybody will believe that Black was working on our side?"

"That is the tricky part, I admit, sir, but all we need to do is paint the picture of good versus evil. Our Auror informally deputised those he was fighting with and together they fought against a common enemy. After all, the Ministry are the "good guys", don't you agree? It's only natural that anybody fighting against evil forces like those who would attack a world sporting event would be on our side."

"I suppose you're right, Henrick. It's only natural…" Cornelius said, calming. "But how can we avoid a panic. Admitting that even remnants of You-Know-Who's forces are still running around will cause chaos. I won't preside over the return to the troubles of the war."

"We can take a leaf from the muggle government's book in this instance, Minister. We take the same stance against these trouble makers as the muggles took against the Irish. Call them an isolated terrorist cell of the Dark Lords remaining low-level supporters and collaborators, intent on causing only fear and pandemonium, furthering no one's cause."

"Brilliant, Henrick! We'll tell everyone they're a public enemy that we've been tracking for weeks. While the attack was unexpected, it could have been much worse if not for our dedicated responders and the help of our good public."

"Very good, sir. However, there is one catch you may not like: by communicating events in this manner, it will be difficult to maintain our hold on Gaara. In the light we wish to paint the picture of events, Gaara would appear to be a hero of sorts, if perhaps a tad overzealous. If we convince the public of our view of the situation, Gaara would need to be released with the lightest of penalties. Otherwise we run the risk of undermining our own strategy and throwing doubt onto the polarity of the situation. And Black will use the notoriety he is currently enjoying to cause all sorts of trouble."

"You're not saying we have to release him, are you? Regardless of whatever investigations your department wants to run on the boy under our custody and my desire to keep him out of our hair, he still killed two men last night. Bad enough that the bloody Mark in the sky means we have to tell everyone Death Eaters are still running around, but now I have to let a murderer loose?"

"If it helps, he did reduce the number running by two."

Cornelius would have mistaken that for a quip had Morbidus shown even the slightest twitch of a cheek. He walked over to the concealed drinks cabinet, "What will you have?"

"Nothing for me, sir, thank you. There's a long day ahead and I will need all of my faculties intact. I never had much of a head for spirits."

"Fine." He poured himself a small brandy. "I'll call an early morning press briefing. Let's say seven."

"I would suggest eight-thirty or nine, sir. The morning papers will have all been finalised by now but some of the magazines might manage to get your statement out in time for a late morning printing. We want to separate the news cycles, with the papers at breakfast tables across the country inflaming public concern as they will, and then your statement of the full facts cooling them back down by noon."

"Yes, you're right, of course." Fudge said, sipping his stiff drink, "I won't mention Gaara at all. We've managed to keep him out of the public eye so far. It will be easier collecting him later if people aren't looking too closely at him."

"As you say, Minister, there will come another opportunity. And some of the less reputable journals have tried looking into Gaara but we have kept quiet and no one is willing to believe the extent of his involvement either way. The boy's story discredits itself, fortunately."

"That won't stop Skeeter from looking under every rock."

"Yes, she is rather persistent for a mainline reporter. If my men hear any whisperings of her renewed interest in him, I will look into a suitable distraction until the plan comes to fruition next month. That should suffice. What has Headmaster Dumbledore said to the plans?"

"I haven't told him yet. He's due to be informed this week. He's going to have all sorts of stipulations and I wanted as much in place as possible to head off his objections."

"Very wise, sir. Harder for him to undermine your authority if everything is already set in motion."

"I had better start drafting my statement." He said, sighing, "Three hours sleep. Could you tell my secretary to send in whatever coffee and writers are available."

"Of course, Minister. By your leave," He said, waiting until he had turned around to let his scowl sink in. The night staffer manning Cornelius' secretarial desk looking appropriately terrified when he relayed the orders. Good.

It was going to be a long day, but it meant that his own plans were proceeding even quicker than previously estimated.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

It was eight in the morning when another knock at the door came. Sirius was struggling to stay awake, suspecting the cold coffee he had drunk out of desperation had been decaffeinated, while Gaara was actually looking more lucid, if a bit tense, especially when the interrogation that had been winding down was interrupted by the knocking. The goblin didn't look phased at all by the duration or tedium of the questioning.

Galloway looked to be the most stressed of all, having switched back and forth between 'good' and 'bad' cops since his partner/boss had not returned. In came Rufus Scrimgeour, his magnificent mane of hair billowing as he strode into the room.

"You're free to go." He said, laying a roll of parchment on the table.

"What? But sir-" Galloway was indignant.

"Orders from Bones. The attackers last night were found to be terrorists and young master Gaara's actions deemed self-defence, so no formal charges will be filed at this moment. His underage magic will also be overlooked since the situation was dire."

"Found by whom, sir? I thought the department were still collecting evidence." Galloway asked.

"Not now, Auror Galloway. These orders come from Madam Bones herself. You can discuss it with her later. For now, I apologise for the inconvenience, Mr Black, master Black." Scrimgeour said.

Sirius had been more shocked than the time James had decided it would be a good idea to try transforming back and playing fetch with Moony in seventh year. All of the horrible things that had been circling around his head for the past six or seven hours had just been blown away by Scrimgeour's dramatic entrance.

His second reaction was delayed by the shocked first, but eventually he said, "He's not… Gaara doesn't use my surname." For some reason that sounded incredibly strange to him.

Gaara was wide-eyed. He had just started to decompress the sand around his hands to break off the magical restraints around his wrists, planning to punch the side of Sirius' head and then leap over the table to disable Galloway and whoever had just arrived and make his escape. He had to force himself to retract the sand that had already started to mark the manacles when the good news was shared.

So… that was it…?

That was anticlimactic, Gaara thought.

Galloway stormed out, determined to find out why a boy was being set free when he almost definitely had murdered two men. This stunk of the higher ups, and mentions of findings meant only one thing: the Office of Administrative Inspectors.