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"I have another question," Gaara stated after a moment, in which he pondered on the cause of the lunar disturbances, since even his supposedly old and wise demon didn't seem to know. Then again, with Shukaku you could never tell if he was telling the truth or not. "Why hasn't my voice returned yet? Your chakra should have healed it within a few weeks."

"Why should I heal you? You're so borin' these days; you don't even kill people anymore…" The titanic creature rumbled, acting more childish and spiteful than a demon of his calibre ought to.

This struck Gaara, he had assumed the reason to be something like because of the extensive and serious nature of the wound it would take longer to heal, or the same reason for the strange issue of the full moon was also the cause; but for it to be something so immature as a bored Biju almost led to Gaara's first sweat drop and face palm, but even in front of this revelation he was able to maintain most of his composure. However, Gaara's glare worsened, causing Shukaku to openly laugh in his face.

If Gaara was honest with himself he would have had to admit that he wasn't entirely affected by his mutism, as even when he could speak he didn't speak that often anyway. So it wasn't such a drastic change to his life that he could really get mad, but the reason for his demon's stubbornness was well within the bounds of reasonable fury in the red-head's opinion.

Letting out a small sigh at the hopelessness of certain creatures, Gaara continued the strained conversation, which seemed to turn into a decidedly one-sided question and answer session, and it wasn't on his side.

"No way is my host so weak that he couldn't even take a little fall like that!" Shukaku cried after Gaara explained why he was in his mindscape in the middle of the day. Gaara usually waited until it was night time to check up on the demon or ask a question, so it came as a delightful surprise when his little Jinchuriki told him he fell over a hundred feet and got beat up enough to lose consciousness and break a bone or two. Soon after the delight faded it was replaced by disbelief for the humungous entity at the prospect that a shinobi on the level that Gaara was at was so badly wounded.

"I was trying to stop myself from falling, I didn't have time to prepare for the impact as well," Gaara said, almost looking embarrassed that he was rumbled by the monstrous creature inside of him. "If I had had my sand with me I would've been fine." It might have seemed like Gaara was trying to justify himself to his dreaded demon but he was really trying to make sense of his own mistake.

"I wish they'd stuck me with someone worth inhabiting, like that idiot from the leaf with Kyubi. At least that orange bastard got that kid, N-"

"Shut up demon!" Gaara cut in, not willing to listen to the ridiculous monster rant at him any longer.

"Touchy," Shukaku sulked at being scolded by the boy who was about one hundredth of his size. "It's not my fault you're so stupid you didn't think of making more sand to get back to that boring castle."

That shocked Gaara; he didn't know Shukaku could think of an intelligent argument. Of course, Gaara had thought of making more sand using his armour so he could carry himself back instead of making his wounds worse, but that wasn't really an option considering the ground surrounding the castle he currently resided in was made out of minerals that were incredibly hard to turn into sand and were also very wet. It had taken him around ten or twelve hours last time he tried to make enough sand, and he had needed at least some medical attention before then. It was an incorrect argument, but an intelligent one nonetheless.

Gaara didn't bother to explain the problem with creating sand to the demon as he suspected that the Ichibi knew the problem before he asked, he was just trying to start an argument.

Oh, how Gaara loathed demons.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Harry, Ron and Hermione came to stand just outside of the massive wooden doors that led to the infirmary where the target of their amateur enquiries was resting as far as they knew. After their close call with Snape they had decided to take the long route to the infirmary, which was less likely to have any more teachers patrolling. When they finally arrived, Ron was stumbling every other step, his eyes drooping as his body begged him to let it sleep. Hermione, contrarily, was almost bursting with curiosity, wanting to discover the mystery of the new student, which she had convinced herself, would be as easy as walking through the big wooden doors she was waiting in front of, though this may have been partially due to the tired state she would not admit she was in. Lastly, Harry was incredibly anxious about everything that was happening around him. The serial killer after his life; the dementor's effects and presence at his supposed safe haven; the new scary teen, whose prophecy actually seemed to outshine his; all of these new elements in Harry's life were so stressful but now he had a chance to remedy one of those problems with a little investigating.

"Are you sure we have to do this?" Ron practically pleaded with his two closest friends through half lidded eyes.

"For the last time Ronald, we have to know if this 'Gaara' person is dangerous." Hermione said, exasperated in the quietest manner possible. "Of all people, we should know. What if he's working with Sirius Black, or worse, you-know-who?" As per usual, the second mentioned individual was spoken with as much care as was usually taken when referring to the murderer.

"But couldn't it wait 'til tomorrow, you know, when we've all had some sleep and breakfast…" Ron ended his argument with a pointed yawn. He was completely ignored as Hermione and Harry discussed what they would ask Gaara when they saw him.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

"I'm leaving now," Gaara stated after having to listen to the infuriating tenant within him mock him about every facet of his being. It was not a new occurrence for the vulgar monster to make light of him, but the reformed red head wasn't in the mood to spend the next few days inside of his mind listening to the single largest burden of his life tell him how he was the littlest shinobi in the world.

"Aww! No fair, take me with you!" roared the demon of the sand as he started to attack the pillars of sand that separated him from the rest of Gaara's mind. As per usual, the bars of the cage, when damaged, quickly regenerated. This was why the cracks from the full moon were so troubling, considering they had had hours to heal and yet there they were. Fortunately, Shukaku wasn't having any luck in breaking through the bars, though it wouldn't grant him freedom even then as he was still shackled to the wall of the cave.

Gaara walked out of the cave, all the while listening to his 'guest' rage on. The sandstorm was just as fierce as when he last saw it, if not worse because of the aggravation he had just suffered through.

Once the architect of the inner world had reached the right area in the completely indistinguishable landscape, he closed his black rimmed eyes and concentrated.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Once he opened his eyes again, Gaara saw he was laying in a soft bed with immaculate pressed sheets, his gourd dutifully sitting next to his bedside. The metal framed hospital bed was surrounded by the standard blue privacy curtain, which Gaara was thankful for as he heard that his face half covered in sand was quite the terrifying sight. That was according to various villagers and his brother, who had had been slightly more elaborate in his colourful description of his little brother's face.

Reaching his hand towards his gourd, he was irritated to find his arm in a sling. He was glad to find that despite his obviously grievous injuries he was without any serious pain, though. He assumed that whoever had brought him to the medical bay had used some kind of painkiller or spell to alleviate the worst of the discomfort.

Gaara surmised from the candle being the only source of light in the otherwise dark infirmary that he had slept through the evening and into the night. He tested his arm to see how badly damaged it was, but was relieved to see it was already beginning to heal. Though his broken leg was another matter, as he knew it was take at least a week to heal a broken bone.

The bed-bound boy wanted to see who else was in the hospital area but was reminded that unless he wanted to don a green spandex jumpsuit and orange leg warmers, he wouldn't be walking anywhere with a broken leg.

When he had finished checking over his body for any other ailments, he was reminded that his face was still half covered with his armour of sand like a horror movie reject, so he reached out his other hand and had the sand trickle out of the gourd and onto his face. When his face had become the pale porcelain mask it was supposed to be, he sat back in the surprisingly comfortable bed and tried to go back to sleep, seeing nothing else to do until morning when he would undoubtedly be inundated with questions from the teachers about what happened.

The tanuki host sighed lightly when he realised that after the several-hour nap he had just indulged in, he wasn't going to be sleeping any more that night. He sat back up, trying to locate where the doctor or nurse might have stored his clothes, disliking the hospital gown he had been changed into during his slumber, but to no avail. It seemed as though the bedside table didn't have anything inside of it other than a half eaten box of jelly beans that looked months old and an old sock. Since Gaara didn't want either of the two items he looked around his secluded area, but the only other thing within sight was his trusty gourd which, true to its orders, hadn't left his side even when he was asleep.

As long as he wasn't going to get any sleep, Gaara reasoned, he might as well have a look around. Even if he couldn't stand up, he wasn't called Sabaku no Gaara for nothing.

The small hand, not held in a sling, reached out to the over sized container of sand and formed a one handed seal, causing the cork to pop off and more sand to fly out, pooling at the foot of the bed until about half of the gourd's sand had been expelled. Gaara closed his hand causing the sand on the floor to follow suit and compact into a more stable platform, about three feet in diameter.

It was quite awkward for the racoon impostor to manoeuvre himself off of the bed and onto his now floating pad of sand, but he managed to land on the deceptively soft bed of sand in a kneeling position. He was thanking whatever latecomer god of luck that seemed to be on his side that his leg wasn't in a full length cast, as it was have made moving all the more difficult.

Gaara, comfortable on his floating mound of sand, used his power and rose upwards so he could look over the curtains and survey exactly what sort of facility he was staying in.

He hadn't quite expected to see what he saw. As what he saw was none other than the two boys he had beaten half to death the night before sat on a pair of beds on the other side of the medical bay which, from his observations, seemed to be as lacking in technology as the rest of the school. But the primitive technology, or lack thereof, didn't hold the shinobi's attention for long in light of his recent discovery.

The Jinchuriki couldn't help but feel a small measure of guilt when it occurred to him that he had actually forgotten about the two thugs he had hospitalized on the full moon. He had been so wrapped up in the fear of Shukaku's influence and the hundreds of other problems he was having that day that he hadn't actually thought of the two teenage non-combatants he had nearly killed. More to the point, he hadn't thought of a way to keep them quiet. He wasn't nearly skilled enough at Genjutsu to erase their memories, nor was he optimistic enough to hope that they had lost all of their memories of the night before.

Gaara ducked down behind the curtain to think for a few moments, before he had an epiphany. He had been presented with a golden opportunity to kill two birds with one stone, though not in the more literal sense which would surely disappoint his blood thirsty demon. Gaara flew up again so that his head was visible to the two idiots in the messy beds who were now playing cards that seemed to explode for some reason beyond Gaara's understanding and interest, after which point he waited patiently until the idiot with the slightly rounder head glanced in his direction before doing a terrified double-take, prompting the boy sitting with his back to Gaara to turn around and do the exact same action.

Gaara did his fiercest glare at the two goons before he rose upwards slightly so that he could lift his arm, the arm not in the sling, into the view of the two boys. He knew that he had their complete attention when he thrust his arm towards them with his index finger extended, causing both to flinch almost comically. He then drew his pointer back to his mouth, holding it there for a few second in a silent shushing gesture before he removed it again and started to slowly shake his head, never taking his eyes off of them. His last gesture to them was that of sliding his thumb across his throat like he had with the headmaster.

To Crabbe and Goyle, the meaning of the silent message was loud and clear: 'Don't tell anyone, or I will kill you.'

Satisfied that his job was done and he had satiated his curiosity, he lowered himself to the level of the warm and cosy hospital bed and rolled himself back onto it with skilful ease, not hurting his leg, arm or battered torso even once.

He was quite happy with himself; he didn't feel guilty for hurting the two buffoons who were now huddled under their covers filled with fear the likes of which most never have to endure, and now he knew why. The two large boys had started an unprovoked attack on someone smaller than them with no prior knowledge that he was trained in fighting from birth, meaning that they were bullies and Gaara didn't like bullies.

The first figurative bird the stone had killed was the secrecy he had just instilled in his classmates, which he was sure would be enduring considering the level of fear present on their faces when he had descended back into his secluded area of the hospital wing. The second metaphorical bird was probably more important than the first, being that he wanted to save someone from the mistakes he had made in his past. Draco Malfoy was a lot like himself, Gaara had thought, seeing as he was callous and often cruel because he was expected to be. Whilst Gaara had a demon and a village of people expecting him to kill and then hating him for it, Draco had the snobs that surrounded him in Slytherin, the two thugs that he had just struck with fear and probably a family that instilled this hatred of others in him. Gaara had learnt from a certain someone that the only way to end the suffering and become truly strong was to remove the hatred and find people you wish to protect. He couldn't stand to see his roommate and first connection with someone of his own age in this world fall into the spiral of hatred, so he removed one of the influences that drove the misguided aristocrat to act so coldly.

As Gaara settled back, readying himself for a few hours of meditation, though, not the inner mind exploration kind of meditation, but rather the clearing of one's mind; he felt a presence enter the room. It felt like three people, but their chakra signatures seemed to be distorted. The ninja of the sand had been happy to discover that the people of this world gave off chakra signatures like his own world, though they were much weaker in this world, meaning he was able to sense people in a similar fashion. The downside was that, as the volumes of power were so much smaller than his own world, he could only sense them when he was meditating and it had a very limited range. Still, it had its uses. Detecting sneaky little wizards was one of them.

Gaara continued to concentrate intently on the presence that was moving through the room slowly and carefully, obviously looking for something or someone. The sensation of chakra moved past his secluded area, and towards Crabbe and Goyle, who, by the sounds of things, were shivering in fright and hidden under their bed sheets. The intruders walked to the end of the infirmary, by the obese shaking teens, before it seemed to return to standing just outside of the curtain.

Opening his eyes, Gaara spread the sand from the platform he had been using before, on the floor around his bed, ready for any malevolent trespassers if the need arose to defend himself.

The injured shinobi waited patiently, but the longer he waited the more anxious he became. Before long, Gaara had convinced himself that the people outside of the curtains were most certainly ninjas, there to attack him, so much so that he was already channelling chakra into the sand on the floor so that he might be able to attack a little bit quicker.

What had seemed like hours of waiting to the antsy red-head was actually no more than a minute or so, before the curtain that encircled the bed was quietly drawn, only enough for a peak at first before it opened wider, revealing a lack of anything to the boy on the bed. The boy was astonished, as he looked on at the void where someone should be. Concentrating, he could still feel the people there, but couldn't see them.

If Gaara was tense before seeing nothing, as oxymoronic as it sounded even to himself, he was at an entirely new level of anxiety. He was injured and there was an intruder with enough ability to become invisible, which was an S-rank jutsu. It did occur to the seasoned ninja, that it might have been some kind of spell, and that instead of a highly skilled, S-rank shinobi suppressing their chakra, bearing an evil intent, it could have been a few wizards trying to find out about the strange/scary new kid. This thought was quickly dismissed in place of the tried and tested pessimism that had kept him alive all those years.

As if peering out of a crack in space itself, a teenage face peaked into existence in front of Gaara's bed. Gaara mentally berated himself for being so naive, as the immature face of Harry Potter looked at him in mild surprise before it disappeared again. It was more shocking to the trained assassin that he had been so wrong than the fact that the irritating boy, and presumably his two friends, had snuck into the medical bay in the middle of the night looking for him.

After a few second Gaara grew tired of waiting for the hiding young wizards to reappear so he formed a tentacle out of sand and wrapped it around where he felt them standing, causing a small squeak to be emitted as the sand vine wrapped around the intruders tightly enough for them to still instantly, not able to fight back. Sighing, Gaara relented and released the students, letting them fall to the floor revealing that they had been using some kind of sheet to hide.

The injured foreigner waited as the startled teens attempted to regain their collective breaths, before they all turned to look at him in absolute anger and fear, a common sight for the demon container.

"What the bloody hell was that for?" Demanded Ron in one of his trademark fits of ignorant rage. "You could have killed us!" He supported this exaggerated accusation by holding his throat as if his still couldn't breathe.

Gaara stared evenly at them, holding his face as impassive as he could despite the hypocrisy of the ginger child as he declared, after intruding on an injured peer, that Gaara was rude. Granted, the youngest male Weasley didn't use such tame language but the sentiment was still sent and received.

Harry and Hermione waited along with Ron for an answer before the only girl in the room realised, long after she should have, that the person they were questioning couldn't talk, much less answer their imminent questions. As the three boys stared each other down, Gaara managing to easily outdo both of the Gryffindors, Hermione smacked the two by her sides in the back of the heads ending the childish match immediately. The two, having been unexpectedly hit turned and gaped incredulously at their friend in utter shock and bewilderment at the unsolicited attack. Soon enough, after they had regained their senses, though it didn't take quite as long for some as others, they both burst into a fit of angry questions similar to the ones that Ronald had asked only moments ago towards the now forgotten blood-red-head.

"We can't ask Gaara any questions," Hermione started looking a little embarrassed at her own violent outburst, "He can't talk."

Harry and Ron looked at the flustered girl before looking each other in slight humility and reproach before turning back to Hermione with puzzled looks on their faces. "Weren't you the one who said we should come here and ask Gaara questions?" Harry asked, regaining some of his humour in light of his friend's oversight, Ron agreeing quietly next to him.

"Well… that's not important right now. The important thing is that we're here and he's okay." The accused quickly recovered, after this, she turned to Gaara and apologized quietly for all three of them.

The apology garnered the first, albeit miniscule, response from the only person who was meant to be there, in the form of a small nod. This seemed to spur the intrigued trio on, as if they had forgotten the transgressions of the last few minutes.

"Use your sand to answer again," Harry suggested/commanded, after reviewing the problems they had the last time they asked Gaara to answer their questions. "We need answers," He said with all of the conviction he could muster, though to the seasoned and sceptical Suna-nin it seemed more like petulance.

Gaara shook his head, deciding he didn't want to give these people, whom he didn't know nor particularly like from the brief encounters he had had to endure in their company, any easy answers.

As the looks of outrage and incredulity dawned upon the inquisitive triplet's faces, Gaara turned his head to the side and closed his black rimmed eyes. Needless to say, the lions didn't fall for the suspicious person feigning sleep, nor did they give up on their quest.

"Who are you? Are you working for Voldemort?" Harry cried, losing patience with the 'sleeping' Gaara who did not stir.

"We just want to know what happened," Hermione reasoned to the silent and still Gaara, "How did you get hurt?"

"Say something, or use your sand you bloody freak!" Ron started forwards to grab Gaara and shake him until he was sure the other was awake. The freckled teen did not account for the sand he had demanded be used but he could not be blamed as, although adrenaline had kept him conscious, he was still incredibly tired. Due to his sleepless state, Ron didn't see the shield of sand enclose the bed that Gaara was lying on, which gave him enough of a fright to back away so quickly he tripped over Harry's misplaced foot and almost went flying out of the enclosed area. He was saved, barely, by Hermione who grabbed the back of his robes at the correct moment and pulled him back to his feet where he looked at the dome of sand in fear and shock, which was more or less mirrored by the boy-who-lived.

"What the ruddy hell is that!" Ron exclaimed.

"What is he?" Harry concurred with his loud friend, in an almost equally exuberant manner.

"… He's an injured student with permission to be here…"

"That's not what I meant Herm…" Harry started to reply to his brainy friend's sarcastic reply when he felt a tense hand bear down heavily upon his shoulder. Nervously, Harry glanced away from the giant sand ball in time to see an irate Madam Pomfrey grab Ron by his shoulder in the same menacing fashion. Harry didn't dare move, for fear of incurring any further wrath from the infamous nurse-witch. When Ron had come to the same damning conclusion of imminent punishment, he poked Hermione, prompting her to turn around, which was soon regretted by bushy haired girl after she saw what she was turning around to see.

"What are you doing disturbing my patients, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger!?" The fuming woman yelled as she pulled the two boys out of the secluded area they had been harassing Gaara in, Hermione following sullenly after. "I will be informing your head of house of this indiscretion," Poppy Pomfrey ground out through clenched teeth. She came to the doors of the hospital wing and roughly pushed the two teens out, causing them to fall onto their faces. Hermione followed her friends soon after, though with somewhat more grace as she managed to stay on her feet.

She helped Harry and Ron to their feet before looking back at the irritated, for good reason, medical witch who threw one more threat their way: "You'll be lucky if don't tell the headmaster about this!" The tired witch slammed the door in their faces, as quietly as possible it seemed.

"Well, that was a waste of time," Ron commented offhandedly as he started back to their dorm. "Let's hurry before we're caught by another teacher," The ginger boy said, yawning shortly after and not realising that the witch who had terrified each and every one of them wasn't actually a teacher.

"What now?" Harry asked, almost rhetorically; as their plans had been dashed by their discovery and Gaara had been most uncooperative.

It didn't occur to any of the golden trio at any point that Gaara's bad mood could have been cause by them as they ducked back under the invisibility cloak and walked back to bed.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Madam Pomfrey, having been woken during her much needed and relished sleep, decided to check on the three patients she had acquired one day into the term. She first went to the most serious case in her care, the one which she had rescued from the onslaught of questions earlier. She didn't know how useful any inspection of Gaara would really be considering that, last time she checked, he was encased in a ball of sand. This didn't really worry her as she was aware of his abilities, the ones he had showcased before at least, and so it was probably a defensive measure and seeing as she couldn't do anything to heal him immediately he was probably better off safe from others.

She drew back the curtain slightly, expecting to see the pale brown grains of sand that had formed the ball in her infirmary; however she was surprised to see just the boy laying there with the most peaceful, that is to say the least scornful, look on his face that she had seen or thought possible. His eyes were closed and she presumed he was sleeping, but the position he was in, sitting up as if addressing company, couldn't have been comfortable. Being the caring soul she was, she moved closer to him, mindful of the sand that apparently protected him even in sleep, and gently slid her hand under his back and slowly moved him down into the warm sheets, receiving no protests whatsoever. When the small boy was situated comfortably under the crisp white sheets Poppy moved on, silently marvelling at how such a scary and uncompromising boy could be so innocent and small at times.

The rest of the medical expert's night was spent sending the already healed Slytherins on the other side of the medical wing back to their dorm rooms, when she found them to be awake and eager to leave. Afterwards she left to go back to sleep with the hope of being able to competently examine Gaara in the morning and see if she could remedy his preventative immunity to magic, or at least healing magic.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Eyes seemingly ringed with charcoal opened abruptly to find the sun filtering through the paned windows, to the beholder's annoyance. Gaara sat up in the comfortable bed, taking note that nothing was missing nor out of place from last night. He blinked slowly, there were footsteps on the cold hard floor making their way past his area and onwards towards the office at the back of the room.