Chapter 1: Same Old Headache 1/2
Disclaimer: I do not own either Harry Potter (rightfully owned by J.K Rowling) or Naruto (rightfully owned by Masashi Kishimoto) nor do I make any money out of this fiction. I will also add that any sections or phrases in this chapter that bear resemblance to works by either author or from movies based on works of said authors is recreated in the same spirit of free usage and is not for profit.
A/N: Here it is: the sequel and second instalment of my Gaara-in-Hogwarts series. If you haven't read Silent Humanity I would recommend you do so first, including the epilogue I have just uploaded as well.
This first chapter is quite a bit shorter than you will be used to but I wrote it as such to get both it and the longer epilogue for Silent Humanity uploaded as quickly as possible. Plus I figured after reading the 26,500 word epilogue you might appreciate a brief chapter to read immediately after.
As I stated at the end of the last chapter, when naming this fic (a process for which I have precious little aptitude), the SoulSiblings gave me help in coming up with this one as well as with my devising the Triwizard tasks.
I will state here to avoid any misunderstandings, that there will be no outright romances in this instalment either.
Also thank you to everyone who weighed in on whether I should use canonical or noncanon tasks for the Triwizard Tournament. I will keep my decision to myself for the moment and you will have to live in suspense until they arrive.
Since you will most likely have just finished the last instalment, I won't bother with a 'Last Time' segment here.
Update: The cover image is by Spiral of Destiny, who generously donated their time and skills to design and draw the above picture (in considerate consultation with me).
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Harry awoke with a start, the chill of a cold sweat still running over him. Unlike some of his dormmates, Harry did not often remember his dreams but as the shock settled, he wondered if his night vision had even been a dream. He hoped so.
Even as he recalled it upon waking, it was fading at the edges, shying away from his probing consciousness. In the dream, he had been crawling along the ground, slithering even, and had sneaked up behind an elderly muggle in an old run down house. The gentleman had been spying into the only lit room. As he was startled by whoever Harry was supposed to be, he fell back into the room and Harry had seen them.
There had been four people in black cloaks, their faces were obscured, or maybe they had not been and he just could not remember them. And Harry had seen him. Voldemort.
He could not summon the image now that he tried but he was sure it had been his parents' murderer. He had not looked right. Harry was not sure what Voldemort was supposed to look like when he was not stretched over the back of someone's head or when he was sixteen, but Harry was sure he was not supposed to be whatever he had been in the dream, and yet he was sure. It was him.
Like his title, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was entirely obscured from his memory now, so Harry could not adequately explain later why the word homunculus came to mind without resorting to speculation.
Harry did not know what had shaken him more: the sight of Voldemort, surely terrifying (if only he could remember why), watching the poor hapless witness being killed with an inexplicably familiar green spell, or hearing what had been said between the cloaked figures before the man's discovery and death.
Like Voldemort's face and most of the particular details of the scene, the men's voices had faded with his increasing alertness. They had conferred with whatever was left of Voldemort and Harry had heard them mention placing a new spy in the Ministry of Magic, in light of Lucius' failures; and more troubling was that they openly conspired to kidnap Harry. Apparently one of them was spearheading the operation.
Even if it had been a dream, and he dearly wished it was, Harry decided he would be wary of any potential abductors (*cough* Slytherins *cough*) for the foreseeable future.
No more slumber parties at Malfoy's house, he thought wryly.
Speaking of dark households, Harry sat up and scrambled for his glasses. He would write to Sirius and tell him all about it immediately. He was sure his dogfather would tell him that it was all a dream and nothing to worry about. He was looking forward to hearing those assurances in person when Sirius came to collect him for the World Cup.
OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
Gaara awoke with a start, his brows knitted together in the beginnings of a headache. Being what he was, Gaara was cursed to listen to his headache spread with the sound of raucous laughter inside his mind.
Gaara had been in this world for almost a year now (not a landmark he had been looking forward to), and he had resolved himself to checking up on Shukaku more often. With his animagus training and the full circuit of the Earth around the Sun, he was concerned that his seal might shift again. Really, he hadn't the first clue what had caused the initial change and it concerned him greatly.
Of course, upon visiting his inner demon this first time after he made this (retrospectively) impulsive decision, it was clear he had underestimated the cost of such vigilance.
A couple of days before, Gaara had confirmed that his efforts this summer had not been wasted and that he was indeed capable of becoming an animagus. He told Shukaku this in the hope that the beast would reciprocate and offer some nugget of wisdom pertaining to his monthly transformation cycle. The tanuki was always quick to mock and jeer but so far he had not divulged any useful wisdom despite Gaara's suspicion that the one-tail knew something or other about the matter.
It had been silly, expecting the monster to follow the conventions of good will and offer any type of aid to his host. To say Shukaku had been unhelpful would be to woefully understate the exchange.
As he was wont to be, the sand demon had spent the full half-hour conversation slinging insults and jokes at Gaara and then trying to suggest creative ways Gaara could kill the population of London. Shukaku had been salivating at the prospect of so very many humans to kill.
Talks with his tenant were best summarised, in Gaara's weathered experienced opinion, since the full exchanges were tedious. Picking out any words of use was a difficult task that Gaara was all too accustomed to, but in between the course words there had been a couple nuggets of insight.
"Imagine that, whole buildings coming down on top of them!" Shukaku had hollered. "I couldn't take a step out there without crushing a hundred of them. I'll tell you all about being a fluffy little baby tanuki if you let me loose for the night."
"No."
"You're no fun. Ever since you went through the Kurai Sekai, you've been no fun! Those wraith things don't bleed and you haven't spilled any blood in ages."
"What's the Kurai Sekai?" Gaara asked.
Of course, then Shukaku had lorded this knowledge over him and given nothing more on the subject. He clearly knew at least a little about whatever had left him in this world.
As he sat in his over-plush bed, he regretted the fact that he was going to have to make good on his intention to regularly stop in to see his tenant. Clearly Shukaku knew more than he was saying about their exile to this world, and probably regarding the transformations too.
His demons to bear, Gaara supposed.
OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
As Gaara descended for a glass of water to take with the magical leaf he had snatched from the worryingly well-stocked medicine cabinet of a former DADA professor he knew, he was startled to find the normally quiet early morning house in a flurry of activity. This leaf, that apparently alleviated headaches and had an appropriately silly magical name, would hopefully help him prepare for his long day ahead.
Sirius had told him they would be leaving at the crack of dawn so Gaara had taken that to mean, like all the other times his guardian had hyperbolically claimed they would do something 'at the crack of dawn' or 'first thing in the morning', that they would in fact be leaving closer to lunchtime. Gaara, night owl that he was, had never seen Sirius before 5 a.m., so he was more than a little surprised and displeased to find both Sirius and Remus already bustling around downstairs half an hour before the sun was to rise.
They were packing their tents and other supplies into magically expanded duffle bags, having failed to do it the night before. Gaara noticed one of the bags just seemed to be loaded with food and drink, of which the majority was drink. Gaara would have to look around for some earplugs, he suspected.
"Oh, good, Gaara. I was just about to come and get you. Figured you'd probably be awake by now anyway." Sirius said, all good cheer. Clearly he had been mainlining coffee.
"Could you go and get anything you want to bring with you, Gaara? Your pillow, maybe a book-"
"No books!" Sirius interrupted Remus, "You can bloody well read any time. Today you'll hang out with the rest of us and have some fun!"
Gaara gulped a little, "But-"
"Fun!" Sirius concluded and took another swig of Kreacher's extra strong black coffee.
Gaara turned around and went to get his pillow, a spare set of clothes and a single book. He also collected his smaller hip gourd. It was inconvenient to carry around his standard sand gourd, especially in muggle areas, so he had taken to carrying a greatly reduced volume of sand that would still function as an initial defence.
He smuggled the book under his pillow to Remus, who packed them safely away with a conspiratorial look. When Sirius finally came down from his caffeine high, he would be less intense and Gaara would be able to read in peace, hopefully.
Of course, that would only last until Sirius got drunk enough to start bothering Gaara again, but there was nothing anybody could do about that.
Kreacher had prepared a small breakfast but Gaara was not hungry so Sirius ate it as well as his own.
Remus was left to haul most of the bags to the portkey while Sirius went to collect Harry. It had been decided, mutually, that Gaara could not be trusted to come along without prompting from one of them, so, since his arms and wand were free, Sirius would be watching Gaara while he went to pick up Harry. That way there was less chance of the red-haired shut-in running back to his room and barricading himself in, or running off.
Remus had reluctantly agreed with the plan of action, seeing as it was essentially a form of imprisonment, but he also knew Gaara was still a child and sometimes a firm hand had to be taken.
Gaara was not happy about anything that was happening, particularly the prospect of apparition (and something called a portkey that he just knew was going to be unpleasant since it was designed by wizards).
"Don't be grumpy, Bandit. We only have to apparate twice." Sirius said.
Gaara continued to be grumpy.
They each carried some weight since Remus would never manage to lug all the multiple duffel bags and tent supplies by himself.
"See you there, Moony." Sirius cheered, walking out the front door. It was at least a pleasantly sunny day
Gaara did not bother with any parting words, and walked out silently, shutting the door in the middle of whatever Remus had been saying.
They apparition was as unpleasant as Gaara remembered and he was not looking forward to another jump like that. Sirius was less than sympathetic, his smile threatening to touch his earlobes as they walked down Privet Drive.
Gaara thought they were curious houses: all practically identical except for the different coloured 'cars' parked by a few of them. It was eerie, even after having lived in a haunted castle and a rundown townhouse.
The only way to distinguish them, Gaara realised, was by the small numbers set by each of the doors. Sirius had been here before and confidently walked along the road until they reached the house designated number 4. It was entirely as unremarkable as any of the other houses, in Gaara's eyes.
There was a small device that Gaara understood was an electronic doorbell, which Sirius entirely ignored as he pounded on the door. The painted black door was gently opened in moments.
"Good afternoon, how can I-" Whatever Petunia had been about to say to the rude visitor cut off when she realised it was her freakish nephew's freakish godfather here to pick him up again as promised. She did not bother to greet the freakish man and the even more freakish red-haired boy stood behind him. To think that ex-convict would have the cheek to bring yet another freak to her home!
Sirius took this snub as he always did and reciprocated in kind.
Petunia, who had the sad appearance of a woman who long ago tried to overcome her naturally plain looks through hard work and perseverance and had now convinced herself that instead of God-given, whatever beauty she had mustered was the deserved result of her determination.
She looked even less pleased to see Sirius this morning, which he did not wonder about. Vernon had been particularly aggrieved to discover that Mr Black was taking the boy to an international sports festival (albeit a one for freaks) since he had not been able to afford to take Dudley to the FIFA World Cup in the States last year. Dudley had also been unhappy to hear it, but had instead focussed his frustrations on screaming at his mother and father to take him to another event.
Harry had enjoyed the whole drama for once since the Dursleys were too afraid of Sirius to vent their upset on him.
He had hardly been able to sleep the night before, so excited to be going the next day. Harry practically skipped down the stairs with his rucksack on his shoulder. Aunt Petunia had moved out of the way so that he was free to hug Sirius (despite having seen him not too long ago).
Once released, Sirius asked "Ready to go?"
"Just need to put my shoes on." He sat at the bottom of the stairs and hurriedly laced his trainers on. He had not spared Gaara a second glance, determined not to let the redhead's presence ruin his day. Gaara was happy to do the same, as usual.
Petunia slammed the door the second he was clear of it. Gaara spared the house Harry lived in a second look as they departed, and then at all of the identical buildings down the way.
When they reached their usual secluded spot to apparate out of sight, Harry automatically clutched Sirius' shoulder whereas Gaara took a moment to make his peace with both the bodily contact and the impending apparition. Once he had, following a loud throat-clear from Sirius, they popped out of existence in Surrey and reappeared in a wooded area in a central London park.
Harry appreciated the fact that Gaara, as unflappable as he tended to be, still stumbled as embarrassingly as Harry had when they landed.
"I thought you were going to miss it." Remus sighed in relief, laden like a pack mule and forced to waddle over to the trio.
"Well, these two couldn't help themselves. They hugged, there were tears. It was a beautiful reunion." Sirius smirked, taking pity on the werewolf and taking one of the large bags from his overburdened shoulders.
Meanwhile Harry and Gaara had shared a rare look after hearing Sirius' poor joke. They too took a couple of bags from Remus, who looked immensely grateful for the relief.
As there were only so many portkeys in London, most hidden in parks or abandoned buildings, Sirius, Remus, Gaara and Harry were not alone in the glade. Around them were almost twenty witches and wizards, all stood around an old tire waiting for the allotted time.
"What are we all waiting for?" Harry asked, still unsure how they would be getting to wherever the match was being held.
"Any minute now…" Remus said, looking at his watch. A number of the other Quidditch goers were doing the same. When they started to approach the old tire, Remus and Sirius did the same.
"Make sure you get a good hold of the portkey. You don't want to get thrown off and end up in Wales."
When the two teens saw everyone else touching their fingers to the tire, they got the idea and did the same. Remus was still staring at his watch until he looked up, smiled at Harry and Gaara and their stomachs sunk in sudden realisation.
The turbulence and g-force of the sudden transit was like nothing either teenager had ever experienced. It was a strange feeling, in all senses, and by the time Gaara and Harry fell to the ground they were both resolute that they would not be returning to London via another portkey. Worst of all, Sirius seemed to find it terribly amusing, his teenage wards' floundering landing.
At least Remus had stifled his laughter.
The other witches and wizards were trying to avoid looking directly at the prone boys, which Harry certainly appreciated. They collected themselves and their bags and all four started into the camp grounds which were already filled with tents and revellers.
"I got us a couple pitches over there," Sirius said, pointing away from the stadium and the nicer, fancier-looking tents and towards the more ramshackle area. "The best parties happen in the cheap spots." He finished by way of an explanation.
"They've cracked down on the riots that used to spring up," Remus warned, remembering how Sirius and James used to jump right into the fights when they had all gone to the finals years ago.
"Well, I'm sure we…"
"You can't go starting anything either. You've only just gotten out of prison, do you really want to find out if they've already given away your cell?"
Harry was worrying behind them, imagining just that. He had experienced his godfather's infamous immaturity and rambunctiousness firsthand since visiting Grimmauld Place, so he knew he would have to keep an eye on the man as the evening progressed.
Gaara was wistfully regretting giving in too easily to Sirius' silly idea. Honestly, camping and Quidditch…
Sirius stopped by a larger, unoccupied area that was probably theirs and their neighbour's patches. They unloaded their bags and cases and Remus insisted that they should set up now, before cracking open the firewhisky and other smuggled-in muggle alcohols like Padfoot suggested.
The tent did not seem quite as luxurious as Sirius had assured Gaara it was going to be. It was sizeable by tent standards, he supposed. Taller than himself and would certainly contain enough floor space for Harry, Sirius and he to lie down, but by the way Sirius had been talking since he belatedly told Gaara they were going, Gaara had come to imagine some sort of comfortable magical holiday home.
Sirius had taken note of the distinctly unimpressed expression on Gaara's face and the concerned one on Harry's (possibly responding to the fact that he would likely be sleeping in close proximity to the displeased redhead that night). The bearded ex-convict secured the final tether with a flick of his wand and smirked. He would let the boys sweat for a little while longer while he helped Remus with his one-man tent.
Harry's face had indeed been reflecting the thought of being unconscious within four feet of Gaara (who he was still not entirely convinced was not secretly evil), but he had also been dwelling on the attention their group had been receiving since they arrived.
Sirius was a celebrity that many openly stared at as they had wandered to their patch, and Harry was known to be in his company and was somewhat recognisable in his own right by now, even with The Scar covered by his fringe. Even Professor Lupin had garnered responses, typically of fear, as Sirius was known to keep company with a werewolf. Then came Gaara who some knew to be the hero of the Attack on Hogwarts and who was also in the company of Mr Black. Other stared at Gaara because of his curious image and the gourd strapped to his hip.
In all, the foursome had quickly become the talk of the shanty town. Luckily, Sirius' direct neighbours were foreigners on one side (who had no idea who Sirius was and who seemed to already be tipsy long before the match had even begun), and on the other…
"Good morning, Mr Potter," Announced an officious boy in his late teens.
Gaara had the strongest feeling that he had House Points subtracted by the boy approaching them, but he couldn't remember a name. A Weasley, to be sure, but which one?
"Morning, Percy. Where are Mr and Mrs Weasley and the others? Did you come ahead?" Harry replied as the boy reached them.
"I have my apparition license now, so Bill, Charlie and I were sent ahead. They were with me but they wandered off."
"Well, you know Professor Lupin of course, and you probably crossed talked to Gaara once or twice last year," Harry smirked. "And you met Sirius at my party."
Sirius stepped forward to shake hands, enjoying the nervous, queasy turn the boy had taken at being confronted by both a werewolf and a convicted (and exonerated) mass murderer without anybody to act as a buffer. Then Gaara closed in and Percy looked around for witnesses.
It occurred to Harry that Percy had been given the dubious title of Head Boy and was thus supposed to be a model Gryffindor, and yet looking at the skinny ginger he thought there had not been a lion so cowardly since Dorothy's time in Oz.
"Ay up, Perce. Big bad wolf not gobbled you up yet?" Someone yelled from the path.
Gaara's silently groaned. Great, more Weasleys…
As if Gaara's association with Harry that Sirius' relationship necessitated were not bad enough, it seemed he was doomed to find himself surrounded by Weasleys on a regular basis as an added consequence.
Bill and Charlie were introduced, having been out of the country for the past few years when Harry might otherwise have met them. They were as friendly as any Weasley he had ever encountered and were even more interesting to talk to, considering one cracked curses for goblins and the other handled dragons. Even Gaara had taken an interest in tales of those two professions.
They had greeted Gaara like any friend of the family despite their family's long-standing feud with any member of Slytherin. Clearly saving a few of their lives was good for some conviviality.
They had also taken great joy in keeping Percy near Lupin and Black. Strangely enough, despite the family siding with Gaara, Percy looked almost as nervous around Gaara as he did around the werewolf in their midst. Charlie had quietly assured Gaara that Percy was just a sissy for believing all of those Ministry rumours.
Gaara did not care, other than that the government of this country was circulating gossip about him.
Bill had taken an interest in Gaara, mostly because he was a fourteen year old with tattoos and eyeliner of his face (or so he assumed). The older redhead confided that he had a tattoo already but he wanted one or two more in visible places, but his mother would surely kill him. Gaara could not imagine Molly Weasley, who he had met on a couple occasions, killing anybody. When he said so, he garnered laughter from the two un-terrified Weasley present, which he did not fully understand.
Despite his trepidation about Sirius' responsibility and the attention they were attracting, Harry was having the time of his life. Surrounded by even more witches and wizards than Hogwarts, all of whom were Quidditch supporters, ready to party. It was heaven on Earth.
As the gingers unloaded the small bags they had brought with them, Sirius mentioned that he was pretty sure he had met Bill and Charlie before, when they were younger. During the war, when Sirius, Remus and James were acquainted with Molly and Arthur in some unspecified manner, they had encountered the oldest Weasley children once or twice. Neither of the Weasley men remembered these meetings, but they were interested to hear anecdotes of the period.
Clearly both boys wanted to hear war stories the older men had no interest in telling. Instead they got a handful of remembrances of the embarrassing things the Weasley men had said and done when they were young children.
They were saved from making excuses for their banal tales when Harry asked about the tent, unable to see how the three-man tent was a 'magical marvel' that 'makes camping as comfortable as staying in a hotel'. Both boys were sceptical when Sirius offered a 'tour' seeing as all three would not be able to stand inside of the tent.
Sirius stepped in and Harry followed carefully after, expecting to bump into his godfather in the cramped tent. Instead, he stepped into what looked like a luxurious marquee, replete with an enormous sitting area and a series of offshoots that Harry assumed were bedrooms. It looked marvellous and magical.
Gaara stepped in, even more carefully than Harry had, and gave the cavernous area a once-over before nodding and walking into one of the individual areas. Harry watched him pass by and was befuddled by Gaara's total nonchalance.
He shook his head and got back into the spirit of things. Gaara did not re-emerge from his nook, so Sirius started the tour in that area, not allowing Gaara a moments peace until he set down his book and followed them. Remus had wandered in with the Weasley boys to see the tent.
"Blimey, it's even bigger than ours! And it's just the four of you in here?" Bill said, looking around the tent big enough to fit ten very comfortably.
"Yes, well, no actually. I have my own tent. It's just Sirius, Harry and Gaara in here."
"Waste of space, that is." Charlie remarked.
"I still don't get why you can't sleep in here, Professor Lupin," Harry said. "It's not about, you know, your…problem, is it?"
"No, it's nothing like that. I just don't trust Sirius to leave me alone when I'm asleep without a lockable door to protect me." He smirked, making Harry sweat. "Plus his snoring is monstrous."
Remus was just about to suggest that he go and set up his own well-used (muggle) tent when they heard a commotion outside. Suspending the tour, they all filed out to find half a dozen more redheads and a brunette waiting outside.
"Harry!" Ron and Hermione chorused inharmoniously and ran up to greet him.
At that moment, Molly stormed up to her two eldest sons to give them an earful for disregarding her order to take the bulk of the bags with them and begin setting up the tent. Instead, Percy had taken his assigned bags but the other two had taken only the smallest bags and run off. Leaving her and Arthur to wrangle the children and keep track of everything else.
Percy of course denied any foreknowledge, while the other swatted him over the back of the head before they received their own swats.
Once Molly had told off her children, she swept up Harry into her customary hug and then looked at where Gaara had been moments before. He was walking quickly back towards his tent but she marched over and caught him too, eliciting a 'grumpy' look from him, and a snicker from Sirius. Molly sent Sirius a scathing look as she finally released the prickly teen.
She had never felt someone tense up so rigidly when she held them, not even Harry. It was worrying, to say the least. Still, repeated exposure should clear that up!
Fred and George took their mother's distraction and their father's preoccupation in putting up the tent (he would not accept any help in putting it up) to approach Sirius. In the most conspicuously secret fashion, they took him aside and proposed a rather sizeable wager on the outcome of the game. They had been saving all of the profits from their joke products for a while now and they were ready to put up nearly a hundred galleons.
"Of course I won't make a bet with you; you're far too young to be wasting your money like that!" Sirius loudly declared, barely earning a second look for the Weasley parents who had been expecting their troublesome sons to try something like this.
Once Sirius saw the elder Weasleys refocus on their own tasks, satisfied that Mr Black had not been drawn into the twins' latest mischief, he signalled the twins to follow him around behind the tent.
"I'll put 250 galleons on Ireland to catch the snitch and win the game." He said, stroking his beard as he had started to do lately.
"Make it 500!" Fred declared.
George blanched and pulled Fred further aside and whispered, "We don't have 500 galleons!"
"We don't have 250 either. Might as well make it a real bet," Fred smiled. George looked fearful for only a moment longer before joining his brother.
"Deal!" George said.
Sirius beamed, sticking out his hand to shake. He suspected the boys did not have that much money but he would take whatever they did have and maybe a few favours in lieu of the full amount. It would serve as a valuable lesson. On the other hand, if Sirius lost he would happily funnel the money his evil family had been hording for hundreds of years into a 'blood traitor' family.
Either way it would serve to make the game even more interesting.
Re-emerging from their seclusion, Sirius grimaced when he saw that Molly was not letting Gaara stray too far. She seemed to be under the impression that Gaara's light stature and trim figure was the result of neglect, of him by himself or his guardian. Resultantly she was shooting Sirius occasional suspicious glares and keeping Gaara close.
After the shock had settled, he kept the smirk off of his face. It looked as if, in between dirty looks directed at Sirius, Molly was giving Gaara a scolding for not eating properly.
Ginny eventually rescued Gaara, dragging away the put-upon boy. Harry, Ron and Hermione had gone for a stroll and the twins were off looking for other bets they couldn't afford to make, so Gaara was the only other teenager around (Percy did not count!)
Gaara had not had much contact with Ginny Weasley before, the most memorable encounter being the girl's attempt to slap him when she thought he was trying to… corrupt (?) Luna. He still had no idea what that had been about.