3/6

"Well, I for one, am glad that we've been able to speak our minds so freely and clear the air between us. It is for that reason, if no other, that I wouldn't mind thanking Ms. Skeeter. However, as to the accuracy of her article, I can only definitively refute that Hogwarts or our Ministry was involved in some conspiracy to involve our students in the Tournament. I personally oversaw the security for the Goblet myself, and I can assure you that I would have greatly preferred that none of my students would need to be entered. I certainly would never have condoned two students being forced into such a dangerous contest."

"So, you claim you do not wish for the glory that they would bring you and your school?" Karkaroff demanded.

"My friend, I am very old and have accumulated more glory than I know what to do with. Some days I fear opening my cupboards, that glory might come spilling out from where I left it decades ago." Albus smiled over his empty teacup that he was still pretending to sip nonchalantly. "I would much rather the children not be called into the same sorts of dangers that our generations experienced before them."

"While few living could claim to have accomplished the things you have, Headmaster Dumbledore," Maxine started, "How can we be sure that the children did not concoct this themselves? Or perhaps your Ministry has acted behind your back to increase Britain's chances."

"I won't deny that there is a possibility in all things, even that. However, I would consider the possibility of Harry Potter and Gaara collaborating in any way to be highly unlikely. From what I have gathered, having looked into the matter extensively myself, the two of them don't care for each other much at all. Any civility they display is a matter of courtesy and appearance rather than friendship."

"And your Ministry?" Maxine asked.

"I wouldn't wish to speak ill of Britain's Ministry of Magic, of course, as I'm sure you can understand." Dumbledore said, "But I could not honestly say that the Ministry wasn't capable of such… manipulations. However, as I said, I have overseen many of the steps involved in the preparation for the Tournament, and you have my word that neither I nor anyone from the Ministry was involved in the selection of either Mr Potter or Gaara."

"And we are to rely on only your word?" Igor asked, sneering.

"I'm afraid so." Albus replied. He did not care for Igor Karkaroff, professional courtesies aside, but he would disregard their opposing ideals and their opposing histories for the time being.

"But this still does not explain how two Champions could be chosen for Hogwarts?!" Olympe exclaimed.

"No, and, in fact, it is all the more troubling since it narrows down the possibilities significantly if the administrations of this school and the Ministry of Magic were not involved, nor, I fervently believe, were either of the boys themselves."

"That much I, for one, can trust." Olympe said. "How wretchedly sick the Potter boy looked when he was chosen and at every turn since."

"Who do you suspect, then, Dumbledore?" Igor said, getting annoyed by the old man's continuous drinking of his weak English tea.

"I would bet the Galleons in my pocket that it was the work of Voldemort's remaining loyal followers." Albus was also confident in the fact that his bed-robes did not have any gold in the pockets.

"Preposterous!" Karkaroff jumped back to his feet from the plush chair. "I will not listen to this."

"I do not wish to imply you yourself were involved, Headmaster Karkaroff. But, as I am sure you are aware, there are many elements still at large who supported Voldemort when he was in power and have not taken to heart the virtues of moderations since his downfall." Albus took a certain pleasure in seeing Igor flinch every time he invoked his wayward pupil's taken name.

"You suggest we are simply to accept that this is all a plan to sow chaos and threaten the life of the Potter boy and take no further action?" Madame Maxine asked.

"I do not expect you will accept this anymore than I myself will. However, there is a binding magical contract preventing any of the Champions from being withdrawn or from withdrawing themselves, so this is all a semantic debate. I wanted to discuss this with both of you this morning not because we might uncover the culprit and remedy the situation, but that we might resolve to be on the lookout for whatever might come next, following the attack at the World Cup over the summer and the irregularities in the Tournament."

Minerva was in awe as she watched Albus diffuse the latest crisis. He would have made either the best kind of politician or the worst.

"Now, I think we would all benefit from a proper breakfast and maybe some coffee." Albus said with a warm smile, finally relinquishing his long-since cooled teacup. "And as much as I am always happy to host friends and colleagues at any hour of the morning, day or night, I would ask that you take any words attributed to Ms Skeeter with a grain of salt."

"Your press do not seem to be overly constrained by the burden of truthfulness." Karkaroff said sourly.

"I think we have discussed this as much as will be productive for now." Madame Maxine said, rising to her impressive height.

Karkaroff, who was still standing from his earlier outburst, also moved to leave.

"Thank you both for coming to speak with me. Especially, considering the problems that have already arisen from this Tournament, I believe it is important that we keep the lines of communication open."

Minerva was ultimately glad that she had been able to silently observe the exchange without being called upon to contribute. Though, now that she had observed, she was troubled by what Albus had said about the Dark forces conspiring against Potter.

The entering of the boy's name and the attack at the World Cup had been terrible, but they didn't amount to a great deal compared to the horrors she saw during the last war. However, what really troubled McGonagall was how much these events reminded her of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's rise to power. Attacks here and there, manipulations and schemes to progress his agenda. Her only comfort was that Albus assured her that, as far as the wiser man could tell, the monster had not returned.

Yet.

There would be plenty of sleepless nights in her future, she could foresee.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

"Lovegood!" Luna had heard her name bellowed in this exact same manner enough times by now to know precisely who was approaching her and for what reason.

"Hello Draco." She said without turning to greet him. He would catch up and normally he preferred to converse while walking alongside her. She suspected he thought the chances were slimmer of them being seen to be socialising if they stayed on the move. Luna didn't mind even if that was the case. As Gaara often said, witches and wizards needed more exercise (especially Draco), so walking around the castle for a while wasn't a bad thing.

When he caught up with her and matched her pace, she asked, "How are you today?"

"Fine, fine." He said quickly, a little out of breath from bustling about the castle so early in the morning.

"That's nice."

"Do you know where Gaara is?" Draco skipped further formality of asking how she was. His mother would scold him if she knew he would forgo his manner so easily or fail to treat a girl (of the appropriate wizarding pedigree) with the proper level of decorum, but Draco was confident his mother wouldn't find out.

Merlin, he hoped she wouldn't find out.

"He's out in the forest again."

"Playing with that overgrown pit-bull again, no doubt." Draco griped.

"Fluffy has been very demanding lately." Luna commented.

"There're only three days left until the Task and he's out playing with the dog…"

"You're worried about him."

"And you're not?" Draco didn't believe that for a second. "As far as I've seen, he's not done anything to prepare to face the dragon."

"I don't know what he's planning either." Luna said. "But I'm sure he's got something in mind."

"I wouldn't be so sure." Draco snorted. He'd watched Gaara reading his normal, random selection of esoteric (and useless) books for the past few days like his life were not imminently in danger.

"Has Mr Black offered any more help?"

"None that he's mentioned, but then, he wouldn't necessarily." Draco said. "He's probably tried to help more but Gaara got something in mind and he's determined to keep it a secret. If I didn't know better, I'd think he was doing it to build suspense."

"That doesn't sound like Gaara."

"That why I said 'if I didn't know any better'. But I do know better." Draco said. "Doesn't make him any less annoying, though."

"I'm worried too."

"What's worse is knowing we'll have to be there to watch."

"At least you'll stand to make some money. Ginny Weasley told me that you placed a large bet with her brothers."

"I wouldn't normally deign to talk about money, but since I was the one to place the bet, I suppose I might as well admit it. Imprudent as betting is." Draco muttered the last part. He'd heard about a number of ne'er-do-wells from his extended family who had succumbed to vices including gambling and lost all of their money. Draco certainly wouldn't be following in their footsteps. "Of course, I don't need the extra money, but I fully intend to take money off of those who would bet against Gaara."

"That's very nice of you." Luna said. "But, I understand that the odds are in Gaara's favour already."

"All the more reason that people shouldn't be betting against him." Draco said simply.

"You're very confident in Gaara despite not knowing his plans." She observed.

"From everything I've seen up until now, I'd be an idiot to doubt him now."

"I hope you're right."

"My only concern is that those poverty-stricken Weasleys might try to welsh on the bet when they lose."

"I'm sure they won't."

"Well, even if they do, I can send Gaara their way and they'll soon pay what they owe." Draco smiled at the thought.

"I wouldn't be so sure Gaara will be willing to do that for you." Luna warned,

Draco didn't want to admit how right Luna was. He had no doubt that he could count on Gaara to protect him if he were ever in danger, but there was not a chance in hell that he could count on Gaara to be his enforcer.

"Are you going to look for him?" Luna said as they neared the courtyard.

"I don't think I'll bother. He's not going to do anything to prepare for the Tournament today and I can't be asked to walk miles to watch him entertain a three-headed dog."

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Lessons that week struggled to maintain the pretence of normality amidst the rising tension in the lead up to the start of the Tournament.

The students of Hogwarts treated both Harry and Gaara like condemned men, requiring the odd elbow from their more considerate friends to stop them from pre-emptively eulogising or reminiscing about the still-living boys. Even the Skytherins, who could normally be counted upon to conceal their personal feelings and thoughts, were clearly spooked.

Following one of their DADA lessons, Gaara was held back by Moody. Draco had panicked a little when Moody told Gaara to stay behind and had tried to persuade Gaara to escape. A number of letters exchanged between his father and he had left Draco with a healthy sense of suspicion and fear about Moody, who had developed quite the reputation amongst the Dark wizards of Britain.

Gaara could appreciate such a reputation so he ignored Draco's nudges, glances and odd whispered warning. He then shook off Draco's guiding arm trying to lead him away. Draco gave up the fight and left to stand outside the door with his wand covertly drawn.

"Seems like young Mister Malfoy is afraid of me." Moody remarked with a smile, pulling himself up from the seat behind his desk with a visible effort. "No wonder, with that father of his. I arrested him more than once, even if we couldn't make the charges stick."

Gaara watched impassively.

"If his son is so afraid of me, he must be involved in his father's affairs." The man's mechanical eye swivelled around as he spoke, presumably examining Gaara's reaction. "You know, I've interrogated grown men who have shown more of a reaction than you."

Gaara didn't bother to comment that he'd been interrogated by grown men who were intimidating.

"I suppose you want to know why I've kept you behind today."

"It is related to the Tournament."

"So, you aren't just quiet to hide stupidity. That's good. It'll improve your chances of surviving the dragon." He said with a short laugh. "I can't offer you any direct help to prepare before the Tournament. The 'no magical sand' rule they sprung on you was unexpected, but you should have been prepared nonetheless."

Gaara was tired of hearing the same rebuke.

"But, even if I can't help you directly, I can certainly suggest some things that might help."

"I don't need any help."

"You most certainly do. I've been teaching you for two months now and I would say your spellcasting is worse than a first year's. A muggle-born first year's, at that!"

"What could you do to help, in that case?" Gaara was curious, with only a few days to go until the first Task, what the professor proposed to teach him.

"I know you've had your Ravenclaw friend helping you learn about dragons, so I'll assume you know as much as you need to about those scaly beasts. What I can tell you about is tactics that might keep you alive a little longer until whatever plan you've come up with can be used."

"I know enough about… tactics to succeed." Gaara had almost used the term 'battlefield tactics', which would have divulged far more than he wanted to the man.

Moody circled around him, inspecting Gaara from every angle. Gaara knew this was just another method to intimidate him as he had used it himself a few times with the Genin in the months before his transportation. That, and because Moody had been watching him intermittently since he started teaching and would have completed any visual inspection with his magical eye of his long ago.

"You've got the bearing of someone who's been in a few fights. And I heard you've been getting into trouble since you arrived." Moody said, finally coming back around to Gaara's front. "But a school boy knows nothing of proper battle. And that's the way you need to think when facing a dragon."

Gaara considered this. "I am adequately prepared."

"No you're not. I've had colleagues, fellow Aurors, who've undergone years of training and fought dozens of enemies killed by dragons when the things have gotten loose or wandered into wizarding areas. I've got a sizeable scar on my back from one of those blighters." Moody shifted a little, the memory bringing the scar's ache back into focus. "And don't be getting confident because of that coating you've got on, either."

Gaara finally met the man's living eye.

"Of course, I noticed." Moody laughed at the hard-earned reaction. "I haven't been going around and telling people about it, though. I can appreciate wanting to wear something to avoid getting scratched."

Gaara wondered at the capabilities of that magical eye. It seemed to be limited in one regard, at least, since Moody appeared to be unaware that his discreet sand armour could deflect more than just the occasional scratch.

"But I doubt they'll miss you wearing it on your way into the Task, and it won't stop dragon fire from turning you into a glass ornament."

"I don't intend on bringing it with me." Gaara had always counted on keeping it a secret so he hadn't wanted it being found at the Task, where he would also be labelled a cheater.

"Then, how do you plan on surviving a dragon?" Moody asked.

"Within the rules." Gaara wouldn't say any more.

"Ha! Just like a Slytherin." Moody slapped Gaara on the shoulder. "Well, fine then, keep your secrets. But don't say I didn't try to help you." He seemed to think for a second. "Or, actually, make sure you do say that. We're not supposed to be involved at all."

Gaara sensed that the matter was finished, so he turned and started walking towards the door.

"Don't worry, he's still out there." Moody said, his eye watching Draco through the wall. "Takes after his father, that one."

Gaara turned to look over his shoulder. "Not in the important ways." He hoped Moody's laudable catchphrase of 'constant vigilance!' meant that the man had placed some sort of privacy spell on the room. While the walls and doors of the castle were very thick and provided pretty reliable sound proofing, he would hate to think of Draco with his ear to the door.

"You're certainly not the average Slytherin, are you?" Moody said. "I've always been able to tell what House someone was when they went to Hogwarts within ten minutes. Pride myself on it. But you're trickier than that. I would have pegged you for a Ravenclaw, except for all of the secrets. Even Dumbledore won't reveal them to me, and I suspect he doesn't know everything."

Gaara turned to him fully again.

"My point is that anything good about Draco Malfoy's personality is probably attributable to his friends here. I certainly wouldn't expect any of his virtues to have come from his parents."

Gaara didn't have anything to say to that. Lucius Malfoy was a terrible person and Gaara would have killed him by now if he didn't think it would hurt Draco's feelings and possibly ruin their friendship, but Narcissa was nice, within the bounds of propriety. It seemed unfair of his professor (and, apparently, previously an Auror), to make such an assessment of Draco based on their limited interactions and his knowledge of Draco's father.

In fact, Draco was always on his best behaviour around Moody, so it could only be prejudice.

"I don't like prejudice." Gaara thought that would make his feelings clear.

Moody smiled grimly, either at the challenge to his way of thinking or at Gaara being so brazen, so un-Slytherin.

"I'm not prejudiced, boy." He said. "I'm experienced. See these scars?" He indicated to his eye and his false legs and then to the rest of his body; clothing presumably concealing a myriad of marks. "I've paid the price to know about that lot and I can recognise them when I see them."

"Or your scars blind you to people who can and have changed." Gaara was not a philosopher, but he felt that was a reasonable rejoinder.

"Well, don't say I never warned you!" Moody barked with another harsh laugh.

Gaara didn't comment or even nod to the professor as he left. True to form, Draco was found outside with his back to the wall and his wand in his hand. He might have looked like an Auror about to raid a hostile base if not for the sheen of sweat and the look of utter relief when Gaara emerged unharmed.

"Are you okay?" Draco seemed almost disbelieving that Gaara might be detained by Alastor Moody, the boogieman to his father's entire social circle, without earning at least a minor hex.

"Yes." Gaara said simply. As an afterthought as they walked away, Gaara added, "You should not be alone with him."

"Who, Mad-Eye Moody?"

"Yes."

"You don't need to worry about that. You wouldn't catch me dead volunteering to spend time alone with Mad-Eye Moody."

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

"Why have we been called here?" Gaara asked Potter as they neared McGonagall's office. The first Task was tomorrow and while Gaara was not particularly hungry, Draco had insisted on him actually attending dinner in an hour. Gaara wasn't sure of Draco was simply nervous and wanted his company or if he was giving in to his nerves and wanted one last dinner with Gaara. Either way, Gaara believed it was incumbent upon him as a friend to make an appearance, no matter how brief.

So, the question remained, why had the Head of Gryffindor called Potter and he to her office before dinner?

"I don't know. She just told me to come this morning after Transfiguration."

Gaara had not shown up to that lesson but a first year had caught up to him in the corridor after lunch to deliver the message.

"There's not another ritual or a press conference supposed to happen tonight, is there?" Harry asked.

Gaara looked him in the eye, unsure of whether there was anything supposed to happen. "No, there is nothing like that scheduled."

Harry's shoulder slumped with the exhalation of his relieved sigh. "Thank Merlin."

Gaara sped up, wondering if his fast pace might politely inform Potter than he didn't want to walk together. Potter, instead, sped up to match his pace. At least the faster pace might help stave off the worst of the bitter Autumnal chill, even if it would not provide Gaara with peace and quiet.

The door was shut and Potter seemed reluctant to knock. An oddly skittish reaction for a brave Gryffindor. Then again, how brave can the lion cub be when intruding upon the lioness's den?

The desert snake, on the other hand, had no trouble loudly rapping on the ancient door. The sooner this was over, the sooner he could go to dinner, and the sooner he could get back to a warm place to rest.

The door creaked open by itself and inside McGonagall was sat behind her desk with a stack of parchments perched in front of her. She was scratching away at the latest one with her quill and Potter seemed to flinch with each harsh movement. Clearly someone had not studied diligently enough before submitting their assignment to her.

Gaara was becoming suspicious of Potter's reactions. McGonagall had a reputation amongst the Slytherins for being strict but undeniably fond of her House, and Potter had previously appeared to like his Head of House (a foreign concept to Gaara). So, why was he so skittish?

It took a moment for Gaara to remember that Potter might have been on edge because of tomorrow's events. How strange...

For someone who had apparently been involved in numerous life-threatening situations (by civilian standards) in his earlier years, Potter seemed to be remarkably sensitive to danger. Were all civilians similarly encumbered? Gaara had been under the impression that Draco was peculiar in his sensitivities.

"Take a seat, please. I will be with you in a moment." McGonagall said, looking each of them in the eye over her glasses before returning to the piece of work. Both teens did as instructed and watched as she scratched a few more remarks into the parchment and then set it on top of the completed pile of marking.

"Now, I wanted to talk to the pair of you tonight before you compete tomorrow."

Gaara rose to his feet and stood in front of the desk again. He had never enjoyed the idea of sitting when he was being addressed by adults. Beyond demeaning, it also left him open to attack. Professor McGonagall was unlikely to attack him, but he still didn't like the feeling. Potter followed Gaara's lead so that they could both be addressed on their feet.

McGonagall's face spoke of disapproval as they stood in front of her. Quite the opposite to Gaara's feelings, Minerva didn't like students standing with her like they were equals. It was impertinent.