Chapter 9: Same Old Fallout 1/6

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: Apologies for missing 2019 entirely with this fic. I said I would try to get the next chapter out faster, and instead it ended up being one of my longest hiatuses… A little over a year.

On the bright side, this has ended up coming out on Gaara's birthday (ish).

It was always in the back of my mind, but sadly the foreground was occupied with any number of other things. However, the kind comments and reviews I have received from friends and readers ensured this would be completed (albeit, slowly).

Please enjoy.

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(Last Time)

Upon returning to the class, someone (whose face Draco committed to memory and to his list of enemies) piped up, "Kiss and made up, have we?"

The soft laughter that bubbled up and quickly died made Draco blush but did not stop his retort. "Not everyone is so interested in kissing boys as you are."

This caused a round of childish 'ooohs' but nothing more came of it. Still, Draco's blush stayed. He knew there had been a couple of rumours running amok about the nature of his and Gaara's relationship but this was the first time anything had been said in front of him. He needed to find a girlfriend soon or else everyone would think it was true.

He looked to see if Gaara had been at all affected by the crude joke but the moronic redhead was currently being harassed by the Beauxbaton Pegasi that Hagrid had brought out to show the class.

As Gaara ducked the horse faces that were trying to greet him, he was reminded that while he had apparently sorted his issues with Draco for the moment, he still had the three remaining letters in his pocket to deal with.

And it wasn't even noon.

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Harry was having a hell of a time. And not in the good way.

That was the best way by which one could describe it. Hell.

He had certainly been noticed before, as soon as he had returned to the magical world. So it wasn't the fame of the situation that was causing him this distress. Nor was it was the infamy. He had been even more reviled in his second year when everybody thought he was the murderous heir of Slytherin.

What he hated about this was that, for the first time, everyone thought he wanted the fame (and infamy). He had apparently brought it all on himself. That was what Harry's best friend had said. And if that was what Ron had felt comfortable enough saying to his face, Harry dreaded to think what was being said behind his back, though he had no doubt he would soon overhear such sentiments from his less than subtle peers.

Possibly worse than that even, the Twins had apparently started a betting pool for the Tournament and Harry was in last place by a wide margin. So…everyone thought he was a glory hound and a cheater, and yet they all thought he was going to lose anyway!

At least Hermione was sticking by him, even if she had asked him if he really didn't enter four or five times.

"And you're sure you didn't wander past and throw a scrap of paper into the fire with your name on it? I've seen you do that before."

"I swear, Herm, I didn't!" Harry was glad she had moved on from her speculations that he might have sleep-walked.

"I'm sorry! I just don't understand how it could have happened. The Goblet was under guard the whole night and it's a really powerful magical artefact, Harry."

"Then how do you think I'm supposed to have enchanted it?!"

"That's why I believe you. There's just no way you could have enchanted it."

"Thanks…" Harry did not appreciate that his ignorance was his only and greatest defence. "So much for trust."

"Oh come on, Harry. I don't mean it like that and you know it." She said. "But this is more empirical. If there's no way you could have entered, then there's no doubt."

"Do you know what really upsets me?" He asked rhetorically.

Hermione, never one to pass up a question, rhetorical or not, said, "That limerick written about you on the wall in the second floor girls toilets?"

"What!? No. It… It's that Gaara got off scot-free. I'm being accused of being a dark lord again and there's Gaara being called Hogwarts' 'real' Champion. He's not that much stronger than I am, if at all. So why's everyone so sure he's the one the Goblet would have chosen fairly?"

"Well, aside from your relative strengths, which is not the most important factor here, I suspect what's made the biggest difference in people's minds is that Gaara's name came out of the Goblet with Viktor Krum's and that Delacour girl's. Yours came out later, and more explosively."

"That's it? Because he came first? I was here for two years before he showed up."

"It's not about how well people know you. If it were, nobody would think much of Gaara at all. He's a complete mystery. But no one is inclined to question what they saw. Your name came out after everyone else's and it was different. And then there's the fact that Gaara admits that he entered the Tournament. Everyone saw him enter fair and square."

"What do you mean 'admits'? I told you, I didn't enter!" Harry was fast losing his temper about this.

"I'm sorry! I just mean… well, it doesn't look good, does it, Harry?"

"I still haven't been able to find out what that's all about, anyway."

"What's what about?"

"Why Gaara entered. You of all people must have noticed how strange it is for Gaara to enter. Of all the things for him to do." Harry said.

"Of course I noticed. But there's still so much we don't know about him."

"Another mystery to add to your Gaara notebook." Harry almost managed a smile but it came out looking more like grimace.

Hermione flushed indignantly. "It's not a notebook, it's a single page. And how can I not be interested? I come from the muggle world, my parents are dentists, and then I come to a magical school because I'm a witch. I learn magic, I watch miracles and other wonderful feats everyday for years. And yet someone like Gaara shows up and he's still an oddity."

"An oddity?"

"I don't mean to sound rude. It's just that there's this whole world of magic that's secret from muggles, and yet even if everyone here know about magic and mystical creatures, there's still someone like him who can show up and no one knows anything about him."

"Witches and wizards don't know everything in the world. Whatever spell Gaara uses with his sand, or whichever country he's from, it's no different from any other foreign exchange student. We had one in year five at my primary school. Hans, from Germany. He didn't like it very much because everyone was mean to him."

"Everyone? Harry, you didn't, did you?"

"No, of course I wasn't. I never went near him. He seemed nice and I didn't want to make it worse for him. Dudley and his gang always went after anyone who was nice to me."

"You make him sound like a criminal mastermind." She smiled.

"Despite what you would see on his end of term reports, Dudley did have areas where he excelled. Just a shame they're all about being a bully."

"What happened to Hans?"

"Oh, he started crying all the time and then the teacher said he went home early. After that, if you cried, you were called Hans. He left his mark on the school."

"So you think Gaara is like Hans?"

"Well, I can't imagine him crying, or being homesick, to be honest, but a little like him, yes."

"But Harry, there's not been an exchange or a transfer at Hogwarts-"

"For a long time, I know, but there's not been a Triwizard Tournament in ages either. What I mean is that lots of strange things happen in the wizarding world. Gaara's just one of them."

Hermione hummed in thought but did not disagree. That was as close as she ever got to admitting he might have a point in one of their not-arguments.

"What's Sirius said about all of this?" Hermione asked.

"He's being great about all of it. He says he believes that I didn't enter and he's trying to get the Ministry to let me out of the Tournament."

"He won't be able to. Fudge has been doing interviews almost around the clock since the selection and he's said that all four of you will be taking apart. No matter what."

"I know, I think I'm beginning to accept that I can't get out of this. But what I meant was that he's trying to help however he can."

"Well, I'm glad. He's been awfully nice ever since we found out he wasn't trying to murder you."

"Yes, he's great. I just wish he wouldn't keep bringing Gaara up in his letters."

"What did he want to know?"

"Same as everyone else. Why Gaara entered. Told him I know as much as he does. It's not like Gaara and I ever talk to each other."

"But you're both Sirius's wards!"

"I suppose, but Gaara's more like Sirius's friend. Anyway, aren't we going to be late for our lesson?"

Hermione didn't even look at the nearby clock. "No, we've got six minutes."

Harry sighed. They continued their slow walk down to the Dungeons and it was honestly the first time Harry had ever wanted to arrive at Potions early, although he often did so anyway to avoid point deduction and detentions when he was even one second late.

And he certainly did not need to lose his House any points to earn their scorn. No matter how much Hermione might try to distract him with infuriating conversations, he could not ignore the glares being directed towards him any more than he could ignore the sixth-year Hufflepuff who nearly knocked him over when their shoulder collided.

"Watch it, cheater!" They said before continuing onwards, having made their point abundantly clear.

"Oy! Watch where you're going!" Harry yelled at their back before turning back to Hermione when no fighting commenced. Honestly, at this stage, that might have been a relief. Anything would be preferable to passive aggression from the entire school.

Sometimes, outright aggression was called for.

Hermione tugged him away from giving chase. The last thing, she decided, that Harry needed right now was detention for starting fights.

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The day had been a blur since their apparent reconciliation about half a mile from Care of Magical Creatures. Then again, appearances could be deceiving, especially when a shinobi was involved. Draco wanted just a little while to relax, to pretend that the Tournament wasn't happening, that he hadn't had to endure the last full moon, to pretend that he didn't know that Gaara was still lying to him.

After confessing collusion with Dumbledore, anybody else might have assumed there could be no more big secrets and let the matter rest. Instead, Draco knew he had found the tip of the iceberg. What still remained underwater scared him but he knew discovering it for himself was the only way he would ever be able to trust his best friend.

So, no matter what Draco wanted to be thinking about that day, he still felt the same doubts.

Gaara could tell something was still upsetting Draco, that the truth of his deal with Dumbledore had not closed the matter, but at least the blond was acting like he had calmed down.

The rest of the school, on the other hand, were anything but calm. The novelty of Gaara's new Champion status had evidently not faded yet, since any number of them had approached him with some sort of expectation of familiarity or shared purpose. As if he had bought into the school spirit and had entered his name to make them all proud.

This resulted in an all-time high for smiles directed at him and attempts at non-violent bodily contact.

He was willing to accept a certain level of notoriety and peril that came with entering the Tournament, it would be worth the rewards, but he would not stand for this change in atmosphere.

Maybe he should hurt someone?

He shouldn't kill an innocent, but maiming a student would earn him some peace. Although, he'd been given the impression that harming a student might get him expelled, which would now prevent him from participating and from getting help from the old man.

The same was probably true for attacking a professor. And he had just the one in mind…

In any case, he needed to find another method of ending this barrage of friendliness. Being popular was overrated, as he had told his siblings many times when they promised his changed character would one day result in it.

Aside from the wider student body and the ongoing problems with Draco, there was one other human issue Gaara was currently faced with.

Potter had tried to corner him twice today already. Gaara had noticed Sirius' godson following him multiple times, and was presumably trying to catch Gaara alone so they could talk. The redhead had no interest in that whatsoever, so he had made sure to lose his tail both times.

Undoubtedly, he would need to deal with Potter at some point, since something was obviously amiss, but that was a problem for another time.

Whatever had caused Potter to enter or be entered into the Tournament was an issue but Gaara didn't think it was really his problem. He would try and keep Potter alive in the Tasks, if he was able, but he'd just as soon skip the wild conjecture phase of this mystery.

With all of this drama going on, Gaara did find one solace. The professors were clearly under orders from someone (probably Dumbeldore) to ignore the elephant in the room and focus on teaching their classes. Considering the buzz amongst the rest of the school, the teachers' conspicuous evasion of the subject looked to be a struggle.

In DADA, questions were asked about good self-defence spells, with more than one person glancing back at Gaara expectantly. In History of Magic, several tried to ask about past Tournaments only to be regaled with unending anecdotes about the Goblins' disdain for wizarding tournaments. Even in Potions, someone asked about elixirs to increase strength and speed. Snape gave the well-meaning student a week's worth of detention for disrupting the class, and told all of them to focus on the lesson, not on other distractions.

Transfiguration, with the Slytherins and the Gryffindors together, went similarly, although, as with any lessons shared between them today, it was a tense affair. The two Champions sat at opposite ends of the classroom like they usually did, but that seemed to take on new meaning now that they were competing against one another.

Or, at least, that was how it looked.

Gaara knew that people were continuing to watch him, and now their number included Potter, but at least McGonagall was still acting professionally. Granted, after the second student lost House points asking for Triwizard Tournament tips, she stepped outside for five minutes. Gaara did not think he had ever seen her so angry. When she returned, she had calmed herself, and immediately went back to teaching.

As soon as McGonagall called the lesson to an end, Gaara was straight out of the door. Harry kicked his chair in frustration when he couldn't get past the collected students to give chase, and then glanced around to see if anyone noticed. Fortunately only Hermione.

Ron had been avoiding Harry almost as effectively as Gaara had that morning, but Harry was perfectly happy with it that way. If Ron said one more word about Harry or the Tournament, Harry wouldn't be held accountable for which spells left his wand.

Harry glanced at Professor McGonagall as he waited for the way to clear so he and Hermione to leave. One of Harry's favourite professors, it was unsettling to see McGonagall's composure slip as it had earlier.

"I heard she threatened to quit, you know." Hermione whispered in his ear.

Harry spun around to look at her. "What?!"

Hermione shushed him. It wasn't very discrete to be gossiping about their Head of House while she was still in the room so she grabbed Harry's wrist and dragged him through the last stragglers and out of the door.

When they finally came to a quiet alcove, he repeated, "What? McGonagall's leaving?" That was the last thing he needed right now.

"No. I said she threatened to leave. According to Misty Albrove in sixth year, who heard from Florence Rae, who-"

"It doesn't matter." Harry cut her off. She'd end up naming half of the sixth year of the school if left uninterrupted. "What did you hear?"

"Well, rumour is that Professor McGonagall packed her things last night and tried to resign but Professor Dumbledore managed to convince her to stay."

Harry glanced back into the corridor and saw McGonagall leaving in the opposite direction. "You don't think she'll still leave, do you?"

"I hope not, Harry." She said.

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Fleur wished she was back home or at Beauxbattons. France was much more forgiving of teenagers having the occasional glass of wine, and those two places only offered the best vintages. Hogwarts had positively draconian rules in place, absolutely forbidding anyone not a professor from having so much as a snifter of wine. And the only thing the students could offer her behind closed doors was some vile whisky of some sort.

They thought she wanted to get drunk. Just how uncouth these British pupils were would never cease to amaze.

On the other hand, from what she had smelled of the wines they served to the professors here, maybe she would be better off waiting until she returned to France.

"Thank you for coming." Viktor Krum said as he firmly closed the classroom door behind him.

"Not at all. A small courtesy extended to a fellow Champion." She said dismissively.

In truth, she had been a little nervous about this, considering Durmstrang's reputation. She had taken the precaution of asking two friends to wait in an adjacent room and if Fleur called for them, they would hear her without interference from the walls or doors between them. "So, why have you called me here? And why not the other two?"

"It is about Hogwarts' champions that I want to speak."

"Of course it is. It seems to be all anyone wishes to speak of."

"What is your opinion about this?" He asked.

"Did you really call me here alone to hear my opinion on those two boys?"

"I want only a fair opportunity to bring honour to my school and my country. I do not wish for the Tournament to be ruined by these people."

"You think it is a plan by the British?" She asked.

"You do not?"

"I think that Potter boy looked awfully surprised. As did his professors and Ministry officials. If they did plan this, they are all very good actors." She said.

"Maybe it was this Gaara that cheated his way in." Krum said.

"Of the two of them, I think he is probably the stronger. I have heard stories of him since coming here."

"I have too. I cannot believe all of them."

"Even if only some of them are true, he may be strong enough to compete, despite his size." She said.

"He is short and skinny." Krum said dismissively. Gaara was fierce, that much anybody could see, but whether that was backed up by strength had yet to be proven. "And he wears makeup."

"I wear makeup. Are you saying I am weak?" Fleur said, her infamous temper rearing its head ever-so-slightly at the suggestion.

"That is not what I mean. A boy who spends so much time dying his hair and applying makeup is not spending enough time becoming stronger." Krum said.

"The stories about Durmstrang being stuck in the Dark Ages are true, it seems!" She mock-gasped. "And I have preparations to make. If I want to gossip about the other Champions, I might do so with my friends. Unless you have something more important to share, I think I will be on my way."

"You are not concerned?" Viktor said, uncaring about any offense he might have inadvertently caused.

"Concerned? They are young. You should be more concerned about my performance than theirs, if you wish to win the Tournament." She smirked.

"I will win this Tournament with no trouble, unless someone cheats." He said.

"The arrogance! I will beat you and I will take great satisfaction when you must admit no cheating was required." She sped over to the door, her mood now ruined. "Please, do not ask to meet me alone again unless you have something of importance to discuss."

Viktor did not respond to that, he just watched her storm out, wondering whether this meeting might have done more harm than good. He might have just upset a potential ally, and made no progress in dealing with the Britons' deceit.

He waited until Delacour and her hidden friends departed before leaving. He would have to report this failure to Headmaster Karakoff. That would be unpleasant. He would also need to start planning a new strategy to counter the advantage Hogwarts had, now that an alliance with Delacour was out of the question.

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"You really can't trust anyone, can you…" Came a high voice from behind Draco. He turned to glance at the person who would dare interrupt his sandwich, only to find Mafalda Lavado stood there smiling at him.