5/6

Draco went upstairs and tried to sleep away his aching muscles and Gaara sat in the attic, the hiding place he had been using regularly since none of the Malfoys had thought to look for him there even once. It was nice and quiet and reminded him of one of his early homes after Yashamaru's death. Only it had fewer rats.

Meanwhile, Lucius and Narcissa shared a drink in the drawing room and began to discuss the night as they always had after each and every event that they had hosted since they married. Who had been talking to whom, and salacious gossip to be spread or quashed, any influential contacts made or strengthened, anything of note that had happened that evening.

Lucius was the member of the Wizagmot, the politician, the Death Eater, but he was by no means the only tactician in their relationship. They had decided long ago the division of their roles and were the perfect couple for it. When they had talked over any and all of the possible ramifications of the evening's events, Narcissa stood and gave her husband a kiss on the cheek and retired for the night.

All the while, Lucius sweated over what hadn't been brave enough to tell his beloved wife: that the Minister had been positively frosty towards him during the party, and work had been little better. Somehow, he had lost Cornelius' hard won confidence.

He poured himself a second drink.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

One night, a couple of days following the Malfoy Christmas Part, Lucius pulled Gaara aside after dinner to have a chat. Gaara had scarcely stood in Lucius' personal study since arriving, and only ever when accompanied by Draco AND either of the Malfoy parents. He didn't know whether they thought he would steal or break something, but he had respected the room's sanctity and stayed away except when called for or when he wanted to read one of the books in there.

"Have a seat, Gaara." Lucius sat himself behind his desk and waited patiently as Gaara took his sweet time in settling himself down. "We need to talk. We both know that there is more to you than meets the eye. In fact, I imagine most people that meet you can probably see that you are..." Lucius paused, "Different, but none of them have had the nerve or perhaps they just haven't had the motivation to ask you to your face, exactly what you are."

Gaara knew that this was not just another meeting with an adult of this world that saw him as a child, this man knew that he was as much an adult as anyone. Such was the understanding of two men who had shed masses of blood for one reason or another.

"But that isn't what I need to ask you tonight. Frankly, whatever, whoever you are, you are of use to me as long as you are loyal to my son. Anything more than that is irrelevant, for the moment." Lucius paused again, he was clearly struggling with treating a child as a conversational equal, or perhaps he was just struggling with the subject matter, whatever it was.

"You know of our history, the British Wizarding War, I presume?" Gaara nodded, "And I assume that you know roughly what part I played in it." The time for legal denials and ambiguities has passed. "I need to know, if war starts again, and I and my family take our side, where will you stand, Gaara?"

When no answer was forthcoming, he continued, "The Dark Lord is generous to his loyal followers, more than anyone on the outside can understand, he could grant your greatest wishes. But if you face him on the wrong side, his wrath is without measure. He will rain vengeance down on anyone who does not swear fealty to him. Do you understand what I am saying Gaara? You don't need to give your answer now, or even give it to me. The time will come when the question is asked by Him, and then you will have to be sure who you will stand beside when this world changes."

Gaara made absolutely no move to respond and maintained the tense standoff with his formidable stare. Lucius eventually sighed and thanked Gaara for his time. Gaara stood and left the home office, casting one last look back at Lucius but still offering no confirmation nor condemnation towards the ultimatum he had just been given.

Frankly, Lucius was stumped by the reaction. Gaara probably wanted time to consider the offer, or else he didn't want to choose a side at the moment and wished to abstain, though that would only suffice until it all began in earnest. No one was allowed to sit outside of the coming war, especially someone so closely connected to his son. He would need to keep an eye on those two, even more so now.

For ten years he had had peace. No war, no Dark Lord or Boy-Who-Lived, no mysterious trouble-making teenagers; just his family and his simple ambitions. Things were going to change, he had always believed that was the right way, but it would be far from easy when that shift came.

All the while, Gaara worried. He had hoped something like this wouldn't happen, as the simple act of being asked to join the war (on either side) disallowed him from ignoring it entirely. Like it or not, he was now involved, all that remained was that he pick a side, or flee. Obviously the latter was preferable, but by no means was it assured.

Either way, he did not intend to become a weapon for yet another war. But he did have people to protect here...

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Draco had never before woken up before Gaara on one of the nights that Gaara had decided to sleep, and Christmas morning was no exception, but Draco did barge into the guest room hours before he might otherwise have. It was, in fact, only an hour after Gaara himself had awoken and the sun would not rise for a while yet.

"Merry Christmas, Gaara." Draco announced by way of greeting, and his exuberance earned him the customary morning nod for his troubles. Despite the saying, the excitement was not contagious.

Gaara was quite content to finish the book he was reading before he indulged whatever crazy traditions were encompassed in this 'Christmas' hassle. He didn't see why a holiday would mean that Draco, usually something of a sloth, would get up early and then expect Gaara to join him in celebrating whatever Christmas was all about.

Sadly, this childish turn that Draco had taken also meant that he wouldn't take 'no' for an answer and practically dragged Gaara out of the guest wing and up to the freezing owlery.

So post was something to do with Christmas?

He was a little surprised to find the small pile of brightly coloured boxes sitting on a small table in the centre of the chamber. An owl flew in and dropped another disproportionately large present onto the table before flying straight back out.

"Families usually hire postal owls for Christmas when they have to send lots of presents. Unless they're really poor, then I suppose they just send out their own owls to each family, but that overworks the owl. Although, if they were really poor, they probably wouldn't be able to send out too many presents." Draco pondered as picked up one of the presents and invited Gaara to find his own name on one of them and take it too.

"Mother and Father always said I was allowed to open one of my presents in the morning, but since you're here I don't see why you can't too. The rest will be taken down to the drawing room later on."

They returned to Draco's bedroom and began to unwrap their presents, Gaara trying studiously to follow his freind's lead. If he was going to be a part of this Christmas thing, he was going to try and do it right. For instance, from the disgusted look the platinum-blond shot at him, the neat and tidy method of unwrapping his present was not appropriate.

Draco had received something called a 'Rememberall' from a distant relation, but he didn't seem too happy about the gift. Apparently, judging by the perfectly clear orb, he had no trouble remembering an unpleasant memory associated with it.

Gaara had received a pair of socks from Dumbledore. Draco snarled and said that the 'old coot' sent socks to all of the orphaned students. Gaara thought it was a kind enough gesture, and he was mature enough to appreciate that new socks were indeed a comfortable luxury. He was surprised to be getting gifts at all.

They lounged around for a little while, the sun having yet to rise, and Gaara even goaded Draco into a game of Wizard's Chess. Draco had grown bored of chess with Gaara because of the ease with which the red-head beat him every time they played. If it weren't for Gaara's ineptitude with magic or his total obliviousness in most social situations, Draco didn't think his ego would survive his friendship with Gaara.

Sooner than Gaara had thought, Draco giddily declared that it was now time for them to go downstairs. Furthering his surprise, Gaara saw that Lucius and Narcissa were already awake and sitting in the family room. Both sipping large cups of coffee.

"Merry Christmas Mother, merry Christmas Father." Draco said. He was acting more like a child than Gaara had ever seen him; it was a relief to know that he wasn't a snake to the core.

"Merry Christmas, Draco." Lucius drawled, taking another swig of his coffee. Apparently the adults in the room, though resigned to it, were still fighting to remain composed this early in the morning.

"Merry Christmas, sweetheart. And merry Christmas to you too, Gaara." Narcissa said, smiling in between yawns.

This world really needed a Rock Lee to liven them up. He would happily give them his world's after he had returned...

Gaara's handful of sand that he kept on his person rose up, 'Merry Christmas.' He sat on the sofa with Draco, noting that his friends probably would have sat on the floor if the Malfoy's didn't have company.

As they sat in comfortable silence, each of them enjoying their hot beverage (Draco and Gaara had been given a hot chocolate each instead of coffee (despite Gaara's vehement disavowal of the association of his age with his apparent sweet-toothed tastes)), an owl swooped in through the door.

Gaara was the only one who seemed to noticed the owl until it had landed within arm's length of Narcissa, at which point Lucius and Draco started to look uncomfortable. The matronly witch had a sad smile on her face when she retrieved the small envelope clutched in the owl's talons and Gaara wondered what part of the Christmas ritual this was.

As far as he knew, all of the post overnight and in the morning had been left up in the owlery to be brought down a little later by the hired help, so it was curious that a letter had been brought straight to the family. More so, that it was taken directly to Narcissa rather than the head of the household who had received everyone other piece of mail since he had been there.

Without any further ado, she carefully opened the envelope (using a handy, jewel-encrusted, silver letter opener)and pulled out the single sheaf of parchment.

He would have expected, with the generally grim demeanour around the room, that this must have been some sort of business missive, but he was also given to understand that Christmas was a day where absolutely no business was performed. Unexpectedly, Narcissa cleared her throat and began to read it aloud:

'Hello Cissy, Draco and Lucius,

Thank you for the chocolates. You always did have the best taste of us. Azkaban is cold. I ate a bug, but don't tell anyone. Apparently our blood-traitor cousin escaped. Him rotting here amongst us has been the only entertainment we've had for years! I'm glad Draco is well and that he is already drawing in followers. We need all of the people we can get when the Dark Lord rises again. There's a dementor coming so I'll stop writing.

Love,

Bella.

P.s. Lucius has stupid hair.'

Narcissa tried not to look heartbroken at her little sister's fragmented, almost illegible letter. Bellatrix has always had the most beautiful penmanship when they were children together.

Inmates in Azkaban were allowed one piece of mail a year and thanks to Lucius' connections, Narcissa was able to send a little bit of chocolate with her missive. Once every three years, for those unfortunate enough to have to stay any longer than that, inmates were also entitled to one visitation. Narcissa always went alone when the time came around, after she had tried to take Draco one year.

It hadn't been the gloomy castle, the misty island, or the lingering sensation of the dementors corralled away from the visitors that gave Draco nightmares for weeks afterwards. It had been the sight of his aunt, of whom he had seen many pictures back when she was still sane, beautiful and able to smile; she was a different woman after her years in Azkaban's highest tower and he had spent the entire visit clinging to his mother and begging to go home.

At least her sense of humour hadn't been robbed from her entirely, judging by her post script. Bella had never like Lucius and she had taken every chance to belittle him. Some things would never change.

"Aunt Bellatrix is in Azkaban because she fought for the Dark Lord in the war. She refused to deny him at her trial so she didn't get away with it." Draco whispered to Gaara as Narcissa reigned in her emotions and slid the parchment onto the side table to be filed away later on.

"Enough maudlin emotions. Today is for jollity. Lucius, I think the boys have waited long enough to open their presents, don't you."

"I suppose there's no sense in waiting, is there." Lucius was still a little miffed about that hair comment.

Draco all but dived towards the piles in front of them and picked up the nearest to him and distractedly sat back into his plush seat the brightly wrapped box in his lap. With a visible second thought, Draco glanced over at Gaara and seemed to want him to do something and it occurred to him that he was expected to join in and take a present too.

A quick glance to the pile closest to Draco told him that they were all addressed to the platinum blond, whereas the smaller pile closer to his seat was for him. It disturbed him to know that whoever had arranged the gifts had somehow known that he would sit where he had. Unless they had simply known that Draco would instinctively take the seat with the biggest pile of gifts.

They each opened their gifts, Draco following Gaara's lead in carefully peeling the paper off now that they were being observed by the eagle-eyed Malfoy adults.

And so went the better part of the morning. They both started with the heaps of gifts that had been sent in the days prior and that very morning, many of which had only come for Gaara after people had seen him as the guest of the Malfoys' at their annual party.

Both of the boys received a slew of trinkets and expensive looking toys from various strangers, as well as a few choice books and some clothes. Of course, Draco's gifts were almost uniformly more lavish and fancy, but that suited Gaara's tastes perfectly. Most of the people he didn't know, and they had sent things he didn't really want. It was a peculiarly wasteful custom, he believed, but it did seem to make Draco very happy.

When the mountains of gifts had been unwrapped and restacked after being conscientiously appreciated, then came the more personal gifts that had been held back by the Malfoys. Draco, practically twitching with anticipation, insisted that Gaara open his gift first.

He was presented with a heavy box which he unwrapped as quickly as his meticulous nature would allow, and found a dark wooden case, inside of which rested an ornate and beautiful silver dagger. He took it out of the box and admired the jewel-encrusted hilt and the even weighting. It was a terribly impractical weapon, he could only imagine the blisters that would form if one were to try wielding such a bumpy handle in battle, but even still he admired its beautiful craftsmanship.

It was a nice, semi-thoughtful gift but, judging but the hopeful looks that Draco kept shooting at his mother and the quiet satisfaction she kept shooting back, Gaara guessed that the Malfoy matriarch probably had a rather prominent role in the selection of this gift.

As if by an afterthought, Draco also passed him a wrapped piece of cloth, by the feel of it, and hastily told Gaara that he had almost forgot that he had gotten him another gift as well. The surprised looks on the Malfoy parents' faces told Gaara that Draco had most likely not asked (begged) his mother for help with this particular gift, and the reason became apparent.

A simple winter cloak was not a proper gift to give to a friend, it might imply that the individual was too poor to buy their own (which, strictly speaking, was true).

"I know you already have a cloak, but I thought you might like one that has an inbuilt heating charm, since you're always cold." Draco spoke flippantly, obviously not caring much for the (relatively speaking) inexpensive present nearly as much as his friend's reaction towards the sentiment behind it.

'Thank you, Draco.' Gaara smiled as he looked down at his favourite gift so far.

Gaara would need to be careful; if his friend continued being so thoughtful and kind, he might actually end up hugging him or some other such distasteful act of emotion.

Lucius and Narcissa also had their own small pile of gifts, which Draco explained were just the ones they were willing to be seen to accept, the rest were either thrown away or returned to the senders. The results amounted to a handful of vastly wealthy witches and wizards and what was left of Voldemort's inner circle (though the last part was not explicitly said in front of Gaara).

A late arrival came just as Lucius was exclaiming sardonically to Narcissa how 'unexpectedly generous the Crabbes and Goyles have been this year' before setting the last gift down absentmindedly. The owl tapped at the lead paned window impatiently, clearly an owl for hire not best pleased with being sent out in the dead of winter on such a long delivery.

"Look at that;" Lucius practically snarled in disgust, "to send a rental owl to deliver a Christmas gift, and to do so late!" He took out his wand and Gaara thought for a moment that he might hex the poor frost-bitten bird, but instead the window popped open briefly to allow the bird entry.

In its icy talons, it clutched a box just the right size to hold a sensible pair of shoes, or so Gaara thought as he got up from his plush seat and walked over to the fire to retrieve it. Lucius seemed further upset by this delivery-bird's show of contempt, to have the client (or more likely the guest of a client) come to it rather than presenting the delivery to the intended recipient. Surely none of his contacts would be so crass!

"Gaara, dear, give that box to Lucius without opening, would you," Narcissa said with well-veiled urgency. Gaara did so, understanding that there might be a trap of some sort on or in the parcel. It was a great disadvantage to be so unaware of the possibilities and potential for combat and espionage in magic. He might need to spend some of his research time actually looking into other uses for magic and not just his usual search for a way home.

Lucius performed a series of meaningless, to Gaara, movements with his wand and then, when nothing seemed to happen, he huffed and handed the parcel over to Narcissa with a nod.

"Well, let's just see who... oh," Narcissa said while looking at the addressee on the box, "It says it's for Gaara and Draco."

"Surely not just for the boys." Lucius exclaimed, leaning over to get a look as well. Not only did it only refer to the boys, making no mention of he and his wife, but it even put Gaara's name before their own son's.

The atmosphere, previously warm and congenial (as much as the Malfoy's could muster) turned a tad awkward as Lucius handed off the gift to Gaara again and sat back to watch him open it on behalf of Draco and he. They expected it to be from some Mudblood acquaintance of Gaara's who did not understand how insulting their gift had been (let alone their existence).

Lucius had to bite back his expression of rage when Gaara tore off the brown packaging paper and found two brightly wrapped presents with little cards tied on, one for each boy and both apparently from Professor Remus Lupin. It wasn't some muggleborn who was unaware of proper manners, it was the mongrel teaching his child who knew exactly how he was insulting he and his wife.

Leave it one of those four to use something as simple as a gift as a chance to score points. Bloody Marauders!

Still, better the diseased commoner than any of the others. Though, at least that scum Pettigrew had had the good sense to stay away since his apparent death those years ago, and Black wasn't in any position to be sending gifts to anyone at the moment.

Then there was Potter...

Lucius' good mood restored, he watched his son and his son's friend open their last gifts with curiosity. After all, that Lupin was as poor as one would expect of a man who had never been able to hold down a steady job in his life (for good reason). Lucius couldn't imagine how or why he was buying Christmas presents for two amongst many students he had only met earlier that year.

In Draco's box were some 'Berty Bott's Every Flavour Beans' and a new and rather unheard of book detailing the advances in muggle society and technology over the past two hundred years. Both things guaranteed to bother mister and missus pureblood. Plebeian sweets and proscribed literature.

They would have Draco give them the book later, in private, otherwise it might give Gaara the wrong impression about the family. They wouldn't mind if he got the idea that they were snobs or blood purists, since they proudly were, but they would not be seen to be rude.

They didn't hold out hope that they would be able to pry those sweets from their son's clutches any time soon, so they would let that one slide for now. Narcissa personally wondered what Lupin might have gotten Gaara, and whether or not it would simply be another slap in the face for Lucius.

Gaara's box was smaller than Draco's, fitting snugly in the palm of his dainty hand, and inside there was a small, red, velvet bag tied with golden string. Gaara poked it open with his index finger and was surprised when his probing finger didn't feel the bottom of the bag and his palm, but instead kept on going in.

His entire arm fit inside of the tiny bag with ease, and Gaara guessed he could fit a horse in his new personal storage and still have room for all of his other worldly possessions.

"Oh, that's a very practical gift for your professor to buy you." Narcissa said, "I wonder, is he buying gifts for all of his students this year? I imagine that would likely be quite the expense if they are all as lavish as your own. I would wager it would put a dent in our expenses to buy so many presents."

"I think it's because Professor Lupin has been giving Gaara extra lessons after school to help him catch up." Draco said, already popping a few beans into his mouth. He got lucky this time: all food flavours.

"He probably got me one as well so I wouldn't feel left out, or some such thing." Draco finished, trying to offer a reluctant Gaara a red jelly bean.

"Oh yes, I seem to remember you mentioning something Gaara having a tutor." Lucius said, "I suppose even a reprobate like Lupin might have his uses." He seemed loathe to admit even this small concession in his judgment of the man.

The foursome spent a little while longer examining and appreciating their gifts before Gaara excused himself from the room. Instead of continuing on to one of the bathrooms on this floor, Gaara stopped outside of the door and pulled the little bag back out of his pocket. He had felt something inside earlier, but an intuition told him to wait until he was alone to see what it was.

He didn't know what to say when he pulled out what was obviously a broom wrapped in brown packing paper, which made the profanity, that he accidentally uttered, something of a surprise. As luck would have it, his mute state worked in his favour this time.

A moment of epiphany struck and Gaara pulled the wizarding toy out of his bag and tore of the note attached. He shoved the paper in his pocket quickly and let himself back into the drawing room in time to see Draco get a scolding from his mother for pulling a face after he had tasted a particularly unpleasant jelly bean.

"What do you have there, behind you, Gaara?" Lucius asked, hiding his grimace at his son's childish antics.

'A Christmas present for Draco.' Gaara's speaking-sand moved without his gesture or notice.

Pulling his face into something more heartfelt, he said "But Gaara, I said you didn't need to worry about getting any presents this year." The 'because you don't have any money' was left unsaid.

Not one for mincing words, or saying them, Gaara walked forwards and thrust the recycled present at Draco. 'I hope it is a good one.' His sand spelled out as Draco took the gift.

Draco had a nervous smile on his face as he accepted the gift, beyond grateful for the gesture alone, but the reality was that his dirt poor friend had most likely scrounged up a cheap and useless second hand broom and Draco would have to try and pretend that it wasn't a piece of junk. He might even be obligated to fly it once or twice in front of Gaara as thanks.