2/5

As he flew through the air, periodically bouncing off of another thick tree branch, Gaara wondered why there seemed to be so few animals in the forest. Even normal forests back in his world had more wildlife than this one, and this was supposed to be the 'Forbidden Forest,' named so because of all of the dangerous and dark creatures there; but so far that night he'd only encountered a herd of overly friendly winged horses and the gigantic groundskeeper, neither of which seemed all that scary to the boy who had fought a toad the size of Hogwarts and lived. Where all of the deadly animals he'd been told about were he didn't know, but it seemed a little misleading nonetheless.

His question was answered all too soon when the trees became too far in-between to jump across efficiently, and he was forced to move along the earth again. As he continued to run, wondering idly how he was going to explain his absence upon his return, Gaara felt a familiar rumbling. It wasn't his stomach... well, it mostly wasn't his stomach; the almost quaking ground reminded him of the last time he'd had to trek back through the forest after his fall off his feathered transportation, but that time he had needed medical attention too urgently to check it out. This time the rumbling was coming from the general direction of the castle, meaning it was in his path anyway and he could fight off most regular animals with just the small amount of sand he was carrying, so he wasn't worried in any case, and taking a detour to avoid it wouldn't be nearly as interesting.

Gaara began to slow down as the rumbling intensified; he noticed that the deafening noise was oscillating slowly and steadily. Gaara wasn't usually one to succumb to curiosity like this, being too sensible for such treacherous actions, but living in a world where he was treated like a child had apparently worn down his resistance to his immature impulses. As he walked into an area clearly inhabited by a large animal, if the compacted soil and snapped twigs were any indication, Gaara began to work out what the rumbling he was approaching was. He had definitely heard it before in his own world, albeit much quieter, but couldn't quite place it.

When the rumbling was interrupted by a loud and vulgar snort, Gaara remembered the first time he had heard the annoying noise. Annoying, because he had first heard it when he was eight years-old, living in Kankuro and Temari's apartment, and he had managed to wrestle Shukaku into getting an hour of real sleep without demonic possession, one rare night. He had been asleep for less than half an hour when he was awoken by the very same rumbling, coming from his brother's room. Needless to say that Gaara had not been happy, being woken up by Kankuro's loud snores. The teenage puppet-user had had a narrow escape that night as Gaara tried in earnest to kill his kin for snoring too loudly. That night taught Kankuro never to sleep on his back ever again.

Now that Gaara knew he was approaching a snoring giant, he became a touch more wary, knowing that anything large enough to snore that deafeningly loud would have to be a veritable behemoth. Still, he'd come this far, he'd been hungrier before and he'd already missed the first few hours of school, so he really wasn't in any hurry to get there, and he could defend himself adequately. Compared to his previous state, Gaara was feeling positively invincible.

He continued forward into the creature's den, but had to do a double-take, an action he disliked performing, after he saw what he had assumed was an abandoned hot tub. As he looked again, paying closer scrutiny to the object, he saw that it was in fact a giant food bowl. It didn't take a prodigious shinobi to realise that whatever he was walking towards was truly enormous. He heard shuffling just a little further on, so he didn't get an opportunity to read the creature's name off of the side of the dish as he pressed onwards.

Then he saw it.

He had heard of this creature before, or something like it, in his world, as a myth of course, or should he say these creatures. He stared across at the three faces connected to three necks connected to one body and thought it might be the single largest dog he'd ever seen. The enormous brown, three-headed, Staffordshire bull-terrier was clearly asleep, curiously only two of the heads were snoring, the one in the middle was sleeping silently with a snot-bubble the size of Gaara's head inflating and deflating in time with the dog's heavy breathing. Deciding his curiosity had been sated sufficiently, Gaara concluded he should let sleeping three-headed dogs lie and make a hasty retreat before he woke the beast/s up. Fighting a dog that large with that many mouths could be hazardous to his health.

He didn't make it more than five steps back before he heard the heavy rhythmic breathing hitch and a deep grumbling sound replace it. Turning around, Gaara saw what he had hoped he would not; his just desserts for listening to his demons, the figurative ones; the real one was now calling for him to use its chakra to save the both of them. Oh, how nice it was to hear the old voices in his head again.

The Cerberus had definitely woken up and didn't look too happy about the tiny wake-up call that was still slowly retreating. Gaara's mind quickly began to work on how he could defeat the hellish dog with the minute amount of sand he had on his person. Deciding he had no choice but to kill the beast, he hardened the sand into a foot long, razor sharp spike and readied it to be fired off into the dogs' waiting heart. The animal turned all three of its heads into the air and took a sniff before turning back to Gaara with a determined look set upon all of its faces. The appetiser of a boy watched it slowly stalk towards him but didn't fire off his sand, knowing he only had one shot in which to kill the canine and could ill afford to miss.

As the three giant heads bore down on Gaara's still form, they gave one more sniff before opening their mouths, their mouths filled with enormous, pointy teeth and the stench of decaying meat. Gaara, for his part, was staying absolutely still on the off chance that the dog would tire of him and he wouldn't need to kill it. The mouths, each big enough for him to climb inside of comfortably, positioned themselves all around him, showing that they were indeed going to attack. The encircling mouths moved in closer to the boy, as said boy raised his hand in preparation to fire the sand-senbon through the central head's throat and into where its heart should be.

And then it all came to a head when Gaara felt his left side heat up suddenly, feeling almost on fire with the burning warmth before his right followed suit. His vision went black and he still didn't fire his weapon. When the warmth left him, Gaara disgustedly felt how wet the three gigantic tongues had left him after their joyful licking of his entire body. Lowering his arm slowly, reluctantly, Gaara saw and smelt the panting and excited dog before him, wearing no malevolent expressions, just doggish joy. He considered still attacking the dog for the grievous insult to his already bruised ego, as the enormous patches of dog saliva dripped to the ground, but couldn't bring himself to do it when the dog(s?) sat back on their haunches and looked at him expectantly with absolutely no malice on their faces.

Gaara had no idea why the animals of this world were so enamoured with him, but he wasn't sure whether it was a blessing or a curse as he continued on his way, ignoring the dogs' pained whines at being left alone again. Gaara wasn't an animal person anyway, having been scorned by one too many animals in his own world who would try to attack him after sensing the malicious chakra he held. Then there was the incident in his youth when he had been lusting after blood and came across the zoo... still, Gaara had no real hatred for animals, so his grudge against the sad looking and friendly acting dog couldn't withstand the soft nudging his back received every few steps from the right head's nose. Turning around, Gaara lessened his glare at the oversized puppy and patted each dog's nose in a friendly gesture with the hope that the dog would then leave him alone after being shown some kindness.

Apparently not.

Even as he continued on his way, the uproarious sounds of the dog attempting to follow him inconspicuously was noticeable to say the least, so Gaara turned around again, with a measured reluctance, to address the issue. He couldn't very well bring the giant mutt back to the castle, even if it was a pet of one of the professors, so he tried to think of a quick and humane solution to his problem so he could leave and wash off the copious amounts of saliva he was plastered in as quickly as possible. He soon came up with an idea that might just work. Standing at his full height, which wasn't all that impressive to begin with, and turning on his Death Glare, he looked in the central dog's eyes and pointed at the floor in the harshest and most menacing manner he could. The dogs' heads, with their ears down flat, immediately bowed all three heads and sat back down as per Gaara's silent command. The mute teen was happy with this result as it meant that dog was trained to some degree at least and would respond to non-verbal commands.

Gaara, in yet another and seemingly increasingly frequent spur of childish enthrallment and curiosity, tried a few more simple command-gestures like 'lie down' and 'roll over' before he realised he'd wasted much more time than he should have allowed himself to, playing with a possibly stray dog. Telling the dog to stay, Gaara patted each of the Cerberus' heads, having to jump a little each time, before leaving quickly and ever-quietly. He could hear the dogs whine pathetically for the next mile of his trek, before it was cut off by a few resounding barks and a heavy thudding that faded fast as they both moved further away from one another.

As he continued running, deciding against washing off for the moment when he saw the edges of the one of the ponds he passed over frosted lightly, telling him just how cold the water was likely to be, Gaara smiled at the thought that popped into his head suddenly, of training the overgrown puppy to fight for him like a summon animal. He could just imagine it running towards his enemy and then running back just as fast with its tail between its legs.

By the time Gaara reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the dog saliva that had covered him, literally from head to toe, was almost dry, thanks to the shining sun and the freezing autumn wind that he had been running against for the past half hour. Gaara had been happily surprised when he hadn't been engaged by any dementors on his return journey. The mute red-head was beginning to seriously doubt the wizarding world's security if their prison guards couldn't sense animals and didn't come out when the sun was shining. But he was probably just over-thinking things.

Another worrying point was that he was effectively sneaking back into Hogwarts in the middle of the day and so far no one had seen him or questioned his motives, or even noticed his re-entry. If he was a rogue, escaped mass-murderer, like some people he could mention, Gaara could have already snuck into the school and killed Harry Potter and half a dozen other people and escaped again, all within ten minutes. He was almost tempted to prove his point, but that wasn't what he did anymore, even if the boy was annoying.

Though, while it had seemed so very easy to slip into Hogwarts, past all of the supposed wards and protections, getting past the hoards of students and the occasional teacher was not so simple. Gaara had never specialised in stealth, that was Kankuro's forte, he was a frontline fighter, so he was not in his element as he evaded detection. Sure, he could fight his way in, but that wasn't really the subtle entrance he was working towards. It took him nearly thirty minutes to actually enter the castle, having had to find an entrance that wasn't filled with students chatting endlessly and apparently without regard for their classes.

The reason the 'heavy artillery' was attempting to sneak into the castle, other than the probable fear his sudden appearance might induce in any nearby students, was because he hadn't exactly signed-out the night before and his entering back into the castle would strongly imply that he had, at some point, left the castle without permission. This discovery could lead to all sorts of related rule-breaking he had undertaken the night before, not least his assault on Draco Malfoy and his killing several dementors on his way into the Forbidden Forest, to name a few. Then there was the slight chance that someone might connect his stalking off into the forest with Hagrid's accounts of a strange new animal. All in all, it was certainly wisest to take the path of secrecy on this one and just not say a word about what he had been up to the night before, not that he could say anything anyway, though this would just make his silence on the matter all the easier.

It took even longer to get back into the dungeons, having to go so far as to knock out three or four more students, all Slytherins, on his way to enter the common room. Gaara figured, since he was already on the line for knocking out his roommate, there really wasn't much harm in sending a few housemates, who had decided to spend their lunch break in their common room, to an early night's rest at one o'clock in the afternoon. From the common room, Gaara then had to throw a smoke bomb into the corridor leading to the dorms; luckily, everyone present was convinced that this 'prank' was perpetrated by the notorious Weasley Twins. The twins later denied this accusation fiercely, upset by the audacity of a fellow prankster hitting Slytherin before they had a chance to, that year. Fred and George decided then that they would have to do something big to regain their, imaginary, titles of 'Lord Pranksters' after being shown up not once but twice.

Meanwhile, Gaara had slipped into his shared room and deposited the tiny amount of sand he had carried with him, into his dearly missed gourd. Every time he left his sand he always regretted it. Knowing he had at least a few hours before Draco returned from classes or dinner, Gaara changed into his bed clothes after wiping the last of the dog spit from his person and readied himself to confront the beast within. It didn't help that the act of getting into his pajamas made the stoic ninja remember the time a certain someone had decided no Jinchūriki should be without a goofy nightcap made to look like something eating your head. Despite his clear and reasonable objections to wearing the abomination, Gaara had worn it that one time to stop his 'most generous' friend sulking and pouting all mission long. Those joint Konoha-Suna missions were trying times. Soon, Gaara was able to clear his head of... distractions, and then he was ready. Sitting down on his bed, he called his sand to attention so that it would be ready to protect him instantly should any threat appear while he was out.

Closing his tired, blackened eyes, Gaara concentrated like he had done in the forest; this time, however, he successfully found himself in the desert of his mind, complete with a sandstorm on the horizon and the nearby red-rocked cave, his destination. Gaara walked into the sheltering cave and continued downwards until he came upon his hidden burden.

It seemed he wasn't the only one to suffer the night before.

Enormous pillars of sand, acting as a barrier to his conscious mind, used to stand like bars to a great cage across the cave, but now those bars were gone and Shukaku was stood flat against the wall. Well, the beast didn't have much of a choice in his position as his giant hands appeared to have been impaled, by equally large nails of sand, to the bedrock behind them. As soon as the captive caught sight of his warden, having previously been too distracted by the pain to notice him coming, he began to howl and scream with such fury that had not been seen since his days as the boy's stand-in mother, demanding blood sacrifices and the like. Gaara didn't hold any sympathy for the monster before him, remembering the pain it had caused him and the fact that it would heal as soon as the nails were removed, still, he did wince every time the tanuki pulled at the bonds only to yelp and roar with pain. The worst part was that despite the obvious agony caused, Shukaku kept on pulling against them, eliciting more shrieks of tortured anguish.

Gaara didn't know if his demon was just tenacious, or doing it to make him cringe.

Ignoring his discomfort at hearing such familiar sounds, Gaara waited for Shukaku to finish his wailing so that he could find out what exactly had happened inside of his mind and soul. He had never heard of a seal spontaneously changing like this, but then he had also never heard of a shinobi travelling across worlds like he had. Eventually, after what honestly seemed like hours, the Ichibi finished and slumped down against his restraints, breathing in long heavy breaths.

"What happened?" Gaara asked in his usual direct manner after the longest time, his patience having lost out to his impatience.

"Waddya mean 'what happened'!?" Shukaku roared at its host, pulling against its restraints again to try and attack, over and over. "My hands've been nailed to a wall, you stupid little weapon!"

"You don't know what happened, then?" Gaara asked.

"Well," Shukaku had a most disturbing smirk set into his maw as he considered his words, "I don't know why that happened last night, but I most certainly did see it. I watched the whole night out of your eyes." Gaara stilled, realising the demon now had material for annoying him for years to come. He prepared himself for what was to come. "You were absolutely adorable! Such a cute baby tanuki! Remember, you need to eat all of your humans if you want to grow up big and strong like ya mama!"

Gaara winced as the roars of laughter exceeded the earlier pained screams in intensity.

"I can't wait for next month, you make almost as bad a tanuki as you do a human!"

"Be quiet."

"Admit it, you're going soft. You're getting weak. Soon enough, one of these real humans is going to come and kill you. They'll end your existence and you'll have never existed. Hell, that cloaked thing last night almost finished you off."

"The weakness last night was because of the form. On my way out, I killed several dementors with ease. The only weakness I have is that I am still alone."

"You'll stay alone! Kill them all, just like your mother told you to, like she wanted!"

Gaara looked up at the beast of scorn, considering him for a few moments before ever-calmly saying, "... I'm leaving."

As he walked out of the cave, he heard more jeers and mockery but paid them no heed whatsoever. He'd had his fill of dealing with Shukaku for the day, and his tiresome conversation had revealed little to him other than the fact that his beast could view events directly when he was transformed on the full moon; an altogether useless discovery.

When he was stood in the surface plains of his mind, Gaara closed his eye and waited to wake up.

Still situated in his bed, Gaara looked over to the 'magical' alarm clock and saw that it was just about dinner time for the rest of the school, though he wasn't nearly hungry enough to warrant changing again or going through the arduous task of getting out of bed to eat yet, so he decided he'd just wait until breakfast. And this way he could postpone explaining his actions last night to his roommate. Either way it was going to be difficult task, but he was happy with later rather than sooner when concerned with the difficult and possibly embarrassing explanations he would have to give. Truth be told, things wouldn't be embarrassing at all, seeing as how the real humiliation would be kept to himself.

But they were only really excuses in the first place. He just didn't want to get out of bed.

Whilst he considered his explanation, no matter how flimsy any attempted excuse would end up being, he played about with his sand, manipulating the shape and his control over it. He soon grew tired with the same movements and practices so he looked around for something to amuse him whilst he waited for his inevitable chewing-out, then he had a thought. Drawing the handful of sand over to the corner of the room, the tanuki-host commanded the sand to grind against the stone of the wall and try to convert it into more sand. The stone was strong and resilient, but eventually it began to wear away, little by little and after five minutes of crushing and refining, during which he had pulled out another book, Gaara found that he had made another handful of sand, albeit in a darker colour. The visible damage to the wall was minimal and probably wouldn't be noticed in the shady corner. The sand he had created, he noticed, was a little more sluggish than his normal sand, it wouldn't impede his everyday movement of it, but it could hinder him if he were to fight seriously with it in large quantities. However, by spreading it thinly within his older sand and diffusing his unique chakra into the new sand, it seemed to act more normally.

Thinking again, Gaara realised that he wasn't likely going to be using large quantities of this sand, as he would literally need to tear down the castle to do so. He was fairly certain someone would miss a tower if it were to go missing; no matter how dilapidated some of the castle appeared to be at times.

Over an hour after Gaara had awoken from his communication with Shukaku, just about when dinner in the Great Hall was probably about to finish, Draco burst into the bedroom abruptly, startling Gaara a little from his seat on the bed, reading 'Hogwarts a History.' Before Gaara could question his roommate on his less than graceful entrance, in followed Severus Snape with a smug look of righteousness that disappeared quickly when he spotted the bewildered Gaara sitting in bed reading a book.

"You see, sir; he's been there all day!" Draco said as he regained his composure and tried to think of a way of looking down his nose at a man who was at least a foot and a half taller than him. He settled for a haughty look with an arched eyebrow.

Unknown to the two others, of all present Draco was, by far, the most surprised by Gaara's presence, but that just goes to show how well his father had taught him to maintain his composure even when he came upon obstacles like having to lie to everyone about how his roommate was ill in bed all day because said roommate had disappeared last night after somehow knocking him out and had not reappeared since.

Snape, to his credit, stayed largely calm after his suspicions were soundly proven incorrect about his current favourite verbal punching bag. He knew Gaara wasn't a lycanthrope, despite how satisfying that would have been, but his absence the day after a full moon was still a cause for concern. Still, there was no proof of wrongdoing, yet, and he had nothing to go on. He did, however, direct a suspicious glare at both the boys present, one of which who was still none the wiser about his close call with truancy. Seeing the innocence in Gaara's curious yet hardened eyes, Snape made one more frustrated growling sound before storming out in a huff.

Sagging a little now that the tension that had been building had dissipated, Gaara leaned back into his bed and raised his book again so that he could continue and avoid what was coming. Draco had other plans.

"What in Merlin's name did you do last night!?" To say that Draco looked furious would be to say that Orochimaru was ambitious, if the vein in the side of his head and accusatory glare was any indication at all. "I've spent all day lying about where you were, and you went and knocked me unconscious last night!"

"..."

"Snape was going to kill us if you hadn't been here." Draco was too proud to admit that he was a little hurt that his friend had saw fit to render him unconscious rather than tell him his problem; he wouldn't even admit to himself that he had been worried that his friend was hurt when he didn't return all day.

'I'm sorry.' Gaara sand was in the air swiftly and silently. 'I have things I need to do sometimes.'

"You didn't have to knock me out! And cut that out, use your copy-thing to speak for you," Draco shouted indignantly, looking more than a little exasperated at Gaara's lack of remorse at the assault, both physical and on his dignity.

'Sorry. I won't do it again.' He ignored the command to use a clone to speak. If he made a habit of doing it he might have to become a conversationalist. And Gaara really did feel bad, about knocking Draco out and now hiding things from him, knowing full well he'd have to hide his escape next month as well in a similar manner.

Gaara still considered his newest secret to be well guarded, but what he had failed to take into consideration was the fastidious attention to detail Draco prided himself on, even if he did sometimes miss the obvious things, like a pair of Polyjuice-impersonated henchmen sneaking into his common room to question him on his heritage last year. What Draco had noticed, was something Gaara hadn't even taken into account the night before. Draco had noticed last night that Gaara hadn't taken his gourd with him, wherever he had gone to. The same gourd that Gaara refused to leave anywhere out of his reach, that when he had deposited it last time, he had fell off a hippogriff and almost died. Draco didn't yet know the significance of this observation, but one day he would come to fully understand. And that day was fast approaching.

As the evening wore on, Draco began to forgo his petty grievance and sulking and fill Gaara in on the day's events whilst he did his homework, and helpfully and dutifully relayed the day's homework assignments to a plenty thankful Gaara. Eventually, when they were both done for the night, Gaara having done markedly more work than Draco, they settled down for a full night's sleep.

Gaara was always thankful for this luxury, and it could never be overstated.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

The next morning, as early as a 'growed up' ninja was supposed to wake up, Gaara rose fully reenergised and ready to take on another day of tribulations courtesy of both the teachers and student body around him. Of course, Draco still hadn't accustomed himself to waking up at the same reasonable hour as Gaara, but being the kind and perfectly gentle roommate that Gaara was, he took absolutely no pleasure in ripping the sheets off of Draco's bed and rolling him onto the floor. It was the same method he used to wake up Kankuro all the time, though he had only used it on Temari once because she had overslept and they had a mission to go on. He only did it the once, and that's all that needs to be said about that.

This incident, with Draco sprawled out on the cold floor, growling, however, ended in a much more amicable manner, whereby the injured party crawled to the door and then stumbled out to the showers whilst mumbling dark words under his breath. The words 'killing' and 'cruciatus' were muttered a few times, Gaara lazily noted as he got ready for the day. Draco slumped back into the room, giving Gaara a glare he knew Draco had been working on. Gaara then went to take his own shower, glad that he hadn't smelled at all animalistic from his previous night's episode. It was a wonder he had been able to do so little the day before, but then, that just left him with all the more energy to continue with today's probable trials.

After showering, dressing and gladly slinging his gourd to his back, Gaara and Draco made their way to get breakfast, Gaara walking unnoticeably faster than normal to get there. They both sat with the Slytherin moderates, as was mandated by the divided fear and loathing of the rest of their house; though, that wasn't to say that a large majority of the Slytherins who were willing to sit near the pair weren't saddened by Gaara's reappearance. Nonetheless, all of those around Gaara politely and, in one or two meek cases, sincerely greeted their bone-chilling housemate back into good health. Even a few of the blood purists who weren't overly suspicious of Gaara's heritage greeted him, which made the red-head happy, even if they were false smiles. That they were willing to try and pretend to be nice to him was still nicer than being ignored or abjectly hated.

Despite the massive changes of the day before last, classes that day were all too familiar, potions being the worst example of these reoccurrences.

It seemed that Snape was going to even greater lengths than before to belittle and outright attack Gaara at every opportunity. It honestly surprised the silent receiver that the professor had the vocabulary and tenacity to keep up such a malevolent barrage for almost the entire two hour class, it was almost a feat of endurance. The broad range of insults also didn't disappoint, reaching even to Gaara's late illness and apparent laziness for shirking off work more than 'that layabout Potter,' who was coincidentally sitting ten feet behind Snape with a serene expression of calm on his face as he listened to someone else receive the torment he had endured for years. Granted, Harry had never been so overtly preyed upon by the potions master, not often at least, but he was certainly not going to get involved and inadvertently switch Snape back onto insulting him just yet.

What Gaara and the rest of the class didn't know was that their teacher's fury had been caused by three factors. The first being his obvious, eternal and unexplained disdain for Gaara, the second being that despite his adamant protests to the contrary, his application to have Gaara removed from his class had been rejected by the headmaster despite his honest safety concerns, and thirdly was that he had been kept up for the past week, brewing the Wolfsbane potion for the detestable Remus Lupin by order of the same headmaster. These three combined had lead to the mother of all headaches that he refused to have cured by that overbearing Pomfrey when his own cure was sure to kick-in in only a few minutes. Only after an hour and a half of verbally bashing his student, intermittently broken up by bouts of teaching his craft, did his migraine begin to wane.

When his head was finally clear again, he began to survey all of the students' cauldrons rather than just watching and waiting for Gaara to make a mistake, which was far too often in any case, further proving his case against Gaara being allowed to practice, if not learn, potions. Sadly, even though his headache was just clearing, and even though he had predicted this would happen, even Snape was surprised when Gaara's concoction set several desks, numerous books, large portions of the ceiling and a small tuft of Neville Longbottom's hair alight. The fire was promptly quashed by Gaara's sand in all but Neville's case, where Hermione Granger had hit him around the side of the head with one of her tomes without considering the obvious concussion that would amount.

The official accident report that was prompted by Neville Longbottom's and several others' admittance in the infirmary for burns, concussions and various other traumas, concluded that Gaara would be suspended from practicing and, for the sake of his and the professor's health, reading potions until a safety review had been undertaken.

After the incident, when the infirm had been taken to the infirmary, Severus Snape wasn't angry about what happened.

Voldemort was angry that he was defeated by an infant. Sirius Black was angry at Peter Pettigrew for killing their friends and framing him. Goblins were angry at the inflated tax rates imposed by the Ministry's Financing Regulatory Committee.

Snape was more than angry.

The students fled their seats as they heard actual and serious curses being hurled at Gaara, and by extension Draco, as they too ran. Only after the two delinquents had vacated the room could the rest of the class return to their seats and try not to make a noise as they finished their potions. Snape took one hundred points from his own house, a first, and went into a closet to curse in a different way for the next thirty minutes. Needless to say, by the end of that period a few of the more innocent of the class were crying when they heard the muffled yells of what Snape was saying.

As Draco and Gaara jogged away from the potions cellar, hoping they weren't being pursued and thankful for the ultimate shield that had undoubtedly saved their cherished good health, Draco wondered if Gaara had messed up his potion so spectacularly on purpose for revenge against the snide professor's words. With nothing else to do for the morning until their next class and the looming threat of attack if they ventured too close to their Potions classroom to go to their common room, the pair decided to go for a stroll through the school. Well, for the aristocrat of the pair, it was a stroll, for the seasoned (and herbed) killer, it was, as usual, a scouting mission.

While they were walking, Draco told a few stories about his first two years at Hogwarts for which Gaara had been absent. Draco's stories were fairly plain for the most part, though a few sensational ones did pop up when they were about combating Potter in some petty manner or another. It seemed to Gaara like most of the antagonism between the two rivals was caused by boredom rather than blood purity. That one story about him tattling on Harry and his friends when they went to see a baby dragon (Gaara had stopped questioning some things), made him smile a little when Draco admitted he had acted poorly... for someone of his standing. At one point, the pureblood even admitted he had been a bit of a bigot when he had called Granger a 'mudblood' just because she insulted his honour.