Capítulo 41: 2/4
The tutorial went about as well as they usually did, with Lupin focussing closely on Harry's Patronus since it was such an advanced technique and required careful supervision now that he was practicing on a Boggart. Every now and then, he would give Harry a short break and check up on Gaara who was working on much simpler spells.
It wasn't a matter of favouritism, as Lupin had stressed on multiple occasions to Gaara, but one of necessity. Since Gaara wasn't likely to get hurt or hurt himself, at least not with the exact spells Lupin had set him on.
It was amazing that Gaara had still managed to cast a bouncing ball of bright something or other at a wall and have it come right back at him, from the innocuous illusion charm he had been trying to cast. True to function, his sand had jump up to block the incoming spell and after a bright flash, a tennis ball sized chunk of glass fell to the floor.
"How can he be so bad at that?" Harry not-quite-whispered at Lupin.
Gaara turned to scowl at the rude teenager. Sure, they didn't like each other and had at one time come to blows, but there was no call to be so discourteous.
Lupin frowned, understanding that Harry was bating Gaara. "That's enough Harry. Just concentrate on your own work and leave Gaara to his."
"I know, but should he be embarrassed? I've seen first years with more-"
"Harry, I said that's enough." Lupin was not about to let a fight break out under his watch.
"It's not my fault he's dumb as well as mute."
Oh, that was it. Gaara had killed for so much less. He shoved his unnecessary wand back into his pocket and turned to his quarry.
Lupin watched this happen and stood directly between them. "Harry, I'm going to have to take five points from Gryffindor for your rudeness, and another for ignoring my instruction." He then turned to address Gaara, "And if I see a single grain of sand within a metre of Harry, Gaara, I will refuse to teach you any more outside of lessons."
Gaara figured it was a bluff, but if he wanted to knock Harry about he would hit Remus first. It suddenly didn't seem worth it.
Lupin started, "You're both fourteen-"
"I'm thirteen, sir."
"Yes, fine, okay, you're both young men now, you aren't children. You need to start acting a little more responsibly. Harry, you shouldn't let your emotions get the better of you and you certainly shouldn't be starting fights." Lupin didn't mention that he thought Harry shouldn't be starting fights with people who might kill him.
"And Gaara, you shouldn't be rising to every challenge that you're presented with. You need to find some other way to release your pent up anger." Remus was feeling very chuffed with himself for rising to this teachable moment, until…
'Responsible adults drink while they're meant to be looking after children?' Gaara wasn't entirely sure what the rules were.
Before Harry could peer around the professor and see what the freak had written with his sand, Lupin jumped forward and brushed it out of shape.
"That was a separate issue. We need to be getting back to work before dinner." He said quickly, ushering Gaara back to his corner of the room and motioning for Harry to do the same.
When Gaara was back to working on his upper second year spells, Lupin returned to Harry and tried explaining some of the more advanced magical theories behind the Patronus' effects on dementors.
"Sir, Gaara mentioned that his sand protects him automatically. Do you know what spell he uses to control it?" This time, Harry had the good sense to keep his whispers between just them this time.
"Well, I don't like to discuss other people's affairs behind their backs, but since this is clearly a matter of contention for you two, I might as well. But, I'm afraid the answer is that I do not know what magic Gaara uses specifically, or even if it is an exact spell or if it's some form of wordless, wandless magic."
"Isn't that really advanced, sir?"
"Yes, it is. Which points to it being something else entirely, since Gaara has his difficulties with magic. There is also the possibility that his sand itself is a charmed or enchanted object, which is still unlikely but not impossible. The fact is that no matter what it is, it is going to be something rather unlikely."
Harry digested this. He had assumed the teachers were all in on the secret of Gaara, but it seemed he was just as much a mystery to them as him.
"But what about the automatic thing, sir?"
"Well, obviously the sand cannot be fully sentient, but objects can be enchanted to react to threats or certain actions. For instance," He got a mischievous gleam in his wrinkled eyes. He pulled out his wand and levelled it at the back of Gaara's head. He shot out a burst of red sparks towards his friend and trusting pupil, but before it could impact on his head with the force of a gentle slap upside the head, a thin tendril of sand flew up and intercepted it.
Gaara looked around as if someone had said his name, saw the sand and turned to the other occupants of the office. Lupin and Harry were looking the other way, and Harry didn't have his wand, so he assumed his sand had sense a fly or something else. He shook his head and called the sand back into his gourd, going back to his work.
Lupin smirked and was happy when Harry did the same, reminding him so vividly of similar exploits he and James had gotten into. "And thus we can conclude a certain level of autonomy in Gaara's sand."
"Sir, you knew my mother and my father."
"Yes, I did." Lupin was wondering where this would lead since they had discussed that topic at length before.
"It's just, I know you haven't invited everyone to have extra tutorials with you, and I was thinking the reason you were willing to do it for me was that you knew my parents. But I was also wondering why you were tutoring Gaara as well."
"Well, I suppose it is true that I took an extra interest in your education since I knew James and Lily so well, but that isn't the reason I am helping you here. You are a phenomenally gifted young wizard and I want to make sure you are still being challenged. More harm than you know has been done by witches and wizards who have grown bored and tried to push their own limits. Not to mention your peculiar problem with the dementors which did require a solution.
"Now, as to Gaara, that was in a way the opposite. He has struggled with magic since he arrived at Hogwarts and was already at a disadvantage because he was put straight into the third year. I didn't want him to be left behind."
"Oh," Harry said, "I guess that makes sense."
"It's not only that, though, Harry. Gaara is odd, there's no denying that fact." Lupin continued after Harry snorted in agreement, "He is a stranger in the school and in this country and I thought it would help him to not feel so alienated if he had a friend amongst the teaching staff to help him."
Harry didn't bother asking why Gaara's Head of House hadn't filled that role since he wouldn't have counted on Snape to do it even if he didn't have that weird vendetta against Gaara. Still, it was a strange feeling to come to understand Gaara a little bit.
"Where exactly does Gaara come from, sir? No one seems to know and none of the professors will answer."
Lupin thought quickly, "That's not for me to say, if Gaara would prefer people not know. I've said more than I should already, but I want you to try to understand Gaara a bit more. I know the way people think about Slytherins, and I know the way they act, but they aren't all evil, and Gaara most certainly isn't."
"If you say so, sir." Harry said, deferentially. There was no way he could think of Slytherin as anything but the proverbial den of snakes that it was, but he would try to keep more of an open mind about the raccoon-impersonator at the other side of the room. Although, he couldn't promise that it would add up to any more than not openly antagonising him, but he would make that effort.
Malfoy was still fair game, though.
All this while, Gaara had been trying to ignore the whispering going on with Lupin and Potter. He could just about make out the odd word, but nothing meaningful, although he had to restrain his violent reflexes when he heard the name 'Lily' in amongst the hushed chatter. The only thing stopping him doing bad things was the memory that Potter's mother, Lupin's friend, had been the origin of that moniker.
Still, the evening's tension had ruined Gaara's mood so when dinnertime came, he left shortly after Potter did and headed straight to the Great Hall to eat something, unknowingly doing a kindness to Lupin who wanted to do the same.
He didn't notice that Harry and his friends seemed unusually interested in him that night, discussing what Lupin had said frenziedly. Regardless of any animosity between them, the Golden Trio loved a good mystery and Gaara was the closest at hand.
OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
Classes were proceeding quite smoothly for Gaara by this point. The teachers had all learned not to call on Gaara for practical demonstrations, but he could always be trusted to give a good academic answer. They also knew Gaara concentrated better when he was sat next to Draco (the only friendly face), and that the less they bothered him, the happier everyone was.
Flitwick found himself envying Snape briefly, since his colleague had gotten his hands on yet another genius student. Then he thought about the correlational trouble that followed the boy and thought maybe he was better off without him in his House. McGonagall had agreed with that sentiment heartily, especially considering how Snape had taken to the boy.
Sprout had nothing but good things to say about the quiet, somewhat jumpy boy. He was very wary of her plants, even the harmless ones, but he had never caused any trouble (that she knew about) and he had always respected her, unlike a large proportion of his housemates.
The teachers had their own cliques that they socialised in, so Trelawney didn't know all that much about Gaara outside of her own lessons, but she had met up with Albus and Minerva a few times, and Gaara had been the hot topic more than once. The only person they talked about more was Potter, which made sense considering both the situation with Sirius Black, and because of Sybill's unique connection to Harry's history.
And then there was Snape, who no one had spoken a word about Gaara to since their big blow out.
One topic that had been repeatedly raised regarding the transfer had been his extra curricular interests. He had sporadic, almost random interests in esoteric magical subjects and disciplines that changed week by week. Albus had noticed these occasional mentionings but had dismissed them as part of Gaara's bookish nature. None of the texts were harmful or particularly dark, even if a few of them had been swiped from the Restricted Section.
With Gaara, that was par for the course.
He would keep an eye on the boy's reading, but he wouldn't involve himself unless he felt it necessary. He might, if the occasion presented itself bring it up with the person in question, but the mysterious child had been laying low recently, so he hadn't 'spoken' with him in a while.
It wasn't disinterest or a lack of concern, but Albus had bigger problems to deal with, even within the student body. Yet another pregnancy in the seventh year, a bare knuckle fight between fourth years, and the ever-present issue of Harry…
That poor, overburdened child. At least he was dominating in this year's Quidditch. Benign Headmaster that he was, he wasn't above cheering for his old House above the others.
OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
The month had gone far too quickly in Gaara's mind. He had been under the impression that this sort of lapse in perception of the passing of the days, weeks and months, didn't start happening until one became a bored adult. He dreaded the thought that he was already having a midlife crisis.
So, he was in agreement with himself, the month should not have finished already, but here he was at the end of February already and another lunar headache looming. He was still suffering the repercussions of last month around his neck and was in no hurry to see how this month could make his life worse.
Terrified of getting captured (by Luna) again, he made the decision to change in the forest again, seemingly changing his mind every other month about where was safest to be. Still, threat of death was preferable to another ribbon or something.
As he stood out in the cold, the Winter still running strong, Gaara continued to lament the terrible choices available to him.
He had brought a burlap sack to store his clothes in for the night and hung it on a branch to keep it away from the damp and frost. He was getting entirely too used to all of this, but with a sigh he felt the shift fall over him and suddenly he was a tanuki-demon-human. At least he was less prone to ruminating when he was in this form. He was too instinctual to be thinking about his shitty situation when he was like this.
Like he did every time he was free to do so, he spent his night running around frantically like a 'wild animal.' He explored some of the areas of the forest he'd never bothered visiting before, mostly because he was bored and wanted to avoid Fluffy more than anything else.
He avoided any liquid puddles or lakes for fear of catching his reflection and being confronted with the inescapable blue bow tied around his neck. A questionable and perhaps effeminate fashion accessory on a human, on a small, furry animal, it was undoubtedly the mark of a pet.
It was after an hour or two that Gaara realised in his foggy brain that his surroundings were starting to look… off. The woods looked old, or unkempt, or dirty? There was something strange about this area of the woods, but it wasn't until he was deep into it that he realised what he had been seeing more and more of were webs all over the branches and roots.
He'd wandered into the acromantulas' territory, which was usually good for a laugh when he had sand and the ability to slaughter a couple dozen of them. Between the acromantulas and the dementors, Gaara's murderous instincts had plenty of creative outlets.
Now, however, in this most vulnerable of states, Gaara wasn't so pleased to see the warning signs of the giant spider nest so close by. He swiftly turned tail and began to sprint back the way he came, all four of his legs working hard to get him away before his morsel-like form was happened-upon by a lucky spider.
He didn't hear nor see the spider approach until he felt the sharp legs pressing in on his tiny shoulder when he had paused in a clearing to gather his bearings. The pressure made him flinch and spin around on all fours, but by then the spider was all around him and spinning a web on his back.
Gaara thrashed around and tried to manoeuvre his tail into position to beat the arachnid off of him but despite being as tall as his human form, it was quick and versatile and stayed out of the way. And then he felt his tail get stuck to his back, and he knew if he didn't stop the spider soon, he would be cocooned in two minutes.
The spider was turning him then, trying to cover him totally and evenly for what was to come afterwards. Gaara tried to extend his legs and break the web with force but it was too strong for his meagre strength. He extended his tiny claws to cut through the sack covering him, but they weren't long enough to break through and any damage he made was covered by another two layers in seconds.
His last resort was instinctual, totally out of Gaara's conscious control. He called out for help.
It was a whining howl that Gaara had heard once or twice in his childhood when an animal could no longer fight or run away. A human might have accepted their fate, but the animals always called out, and now Gaara's weird animalistic brain had forced him to do the same.
He hadn't planned to do it, and after he had made the pathetic noise, he hadn't expected anything to come of it, except for the spider to pause in its preparations to make sure he wasn't escaping.
Gaara certainly hadn't expected to hear, as he strained against his cocoon with all of his diminished might, the sound of four feet hitting the ground in sequence nearby. He hadn't expected the startled cry the spider on top of him gave as that approaching quadruped neared. Least of all, he hadn't expected to feel the nightmarish creature being tackle off of him by the interloper.
Imprisoned as he was, Gaara could only listen to the sounds of the fight going on right by his defenceless body. Whoever had saved him deserved a lot of gratitude since death by spider would not have been pretty and would not have been quick, if his text books had been reliable.
The spider made a sound Gaara wasn't familiar with, but it didn't make any more afterwards so he thought he would be safe for the time being.
Whatever had come to his rescue, it wasn't a centaur since they didn't like Gaara and stayed away from him, plus they were more likely to talk to him after the threat was disposed of, instead of nudging him with their nose. For a moment he wondered if it was one of the canines he knew, but the warbling, low howl sounded nothing like Padfoot's bark or Fluffy's booming woofs.
The wet nose against his side opened to teeth and started to gnaw at the webs binding him. They were careful and didn't do more than nip at the webs until his arm was free to reach up and tear away the covering from his head. As soon as his face was free, Gaara reconsidered whether he was better off with the spider.
There, in front of him, stood a full-grown, transformed werewolf. And it looked very interested in Gaara.
He did not let out a whine.
He stared, motionless, up at the gigantic wolf, wondering when the new attack would commence. The spider had been quick, and its movements had been unpredictable, but the animal above him would be much simpler to counter. Though, he still didn't much like his chances considering the size difference, all it would take was for the werewolf to lunge at Gaara's unprotected throat and there was little he could do about it with his arms still caught in the remains of the webbing. It would take precious seconds he couldn't afford to untangle himself.
He watched the wolf sniff at him and then nudge him with its snout. It took a good long look at the bow around his neck, but didn't pay it much mind after finding it wouldn't come off with a toothy pull. Eventually, the beast sat back on its haunches and watched Gaara, as if expecting something. When Gaara still made no move, wondering if playing dead would actually work for once.
He'd come across a few genin in his own world, a couple of years ago, that had thought staying still would hide them from him. It didn't.
The wolf grew impatient as quickly as one would expect of a wild animal and started to shift and fidget, throwing a few irritable barks his way. When it looked like the wolf would move back towards him, Gaara ever so slowly climbed out of the ripped cocoon.
He immediately dropped down onto four paws when the wolf gave him a look bordering on aggression, but now he was up, he still didn't want to move.
Last month had been humiliation, this month was unsettling. Gaara had always been the predator in his life. He had killed so many, and yet here he was, nothing more than prey, struggling to move before a bigger threat.
Was dignity some foreign presence in this world?!
He couldn't work himself into any sort of state since the wolf had started forward again towards him, slowly this time, and he didn't want to introduce any agitation to the already fraught situation.
As best he could, Gaara tried to act casual, moving slowly but not fearfully. The wolf continued to examine him, clearly trying to figure out what Gaara was, or perhaps if he was edible. Eventually, when Gaara tail had 'casually' swayed into a position where he could swing it full-force into the wolf's side to get enough of a lead to run away, the wolf gave one of his large, blue-tipped ears a lick, woofed, and then started to jump about.
Gaara had seen this exact behaviour very recently, though watching a playful canine hop around was less amusing when it was an adult werewolf with perpetually dripping fangs and a number of scars crisscrossing its body.
Gaara had two options at this juncture: he could swing his tail and make a run for it, hiding from the wolf until dawn; or he could play along, quite literally, and try not to upset the big bad wolf.
He sighed, a gesture that was still strange in this inhuman body.
He darted away from the wolf and then circled back around, initiating the game of tag.
Gaara had heard about werewolves, about how they were vicious to everyone and everything that wasn't one of their own, about how they transformed, and how they could transfer their plague with a bite or a scratch when in their animal form. Gaara had NOT heard about how werewolves likes to play inexhaustibly all through the night.
More than once, they had played tug-of-war with a stick or root one of them picked up. Gaara would be brushing his teeth as soon as he got to his room.
By the time the sun ought to be arriving soon, Gaara was worn out, a feeling he had not come to associate with his tanuki-hybrid body. Seeing as they were both human when the sun was shining, Gaara was hoping the adult creature would let him leave before they both reverted since he didn't feel like being exposed (in both senses) to some stranger. The probable Hogsmeade citizen would likely feel the same if he had retained his faculties like Gaara did.
The Wolfsbane potion did wonders for the disposition of werewolves, Draco had explained in lieu of Snape for obvious reasons, but it was still the animal in control. At the beginning of the night, Gaara had thought the being was unmedicated and thus likely to attack, but it turned out that it had been dosed and was instead jovial.
The werewolf took a sniff at the lightening skies and went bounding off into the woods without a look back at his companion for the night.
Gaara would pretend it never happened, and the wolf wouldn't remember enough to contradict him anyway.
He went running towards he left his clothes the night before, desperate not to change before they were in his arms. As he made his way, Gaara considered how his last few moons had been pretty awful: he'd been chased around the castle, he'd had a quiet one, then Luna had kidnapped him, and tonight he had been attacked by an acromantula and a werewolf.
That was how he would tell the story, if ever there came opportunity to tell it, that he had bravely fought off the giant spider and the wolf, and escaped with his pelt and his dignity in one piece.
Speaking of the little Ravenclaw girl who was one small step out of sync with the rest of the wizarding world, she had been up the entire night frantically searching the entire castle from top to bottom, including the surrounding grounds for her lost fluffy pet. Well, that had been the plan. She had been interrupted before she could make it outside, caught in the middle of a yawn by McGonagall who always stayed up an extra hour on full-moons because of the students' tendency to make mischief.
Bloody lunatics.
She had dragged Luna back to the Ravenclaw dormitory and had woken Flitwick in his adjoining quarters to dish out the necessary reprimand. Luna had received a week's detention for breaking curfew, but all she cared about was not finding her cute pet tanuki.
And the adults hadn't cared at all, thinking her latest hunt was just another eccentricity. It was so frustrating always being right and never being believed, sometimes.
Draco, on the other hand, had had another sound night's sleep.
Originally, Gaara had been knocking Draco out every full moon in various ways to avoid the questions about his disappearance during the night. But since Gaara rarely went more than four days without spending a night outside of their dormitory, he had realised assaulting his friend on those specific nights would leave more of a trail than just pretending he spent the night elsewhere again.
A part of him would miss inflicting that minor violence against his pompous roommate, though.
Again, Gaara's throat was killing him after his body had reverted to the much more comfortable and deadly format, but he chalked it up to the cold nights and his warm temperament. He suspected he was suffering from his first cold, according the symptoms he had been told about.
His one and only friend back home had managed to catch one before visiting Suna that one time, and everyone had mocked him for catching a cold in summer. Gaara thought it was strange to mock the afflicted, especially since his reform, but he also wondered how a Jinchūriki with an even stronger life force than his own could have caught a virus.
Still, it didn't bode well for Gaara since being 'ill' appeared to be an intensely unpleasant experience.
In the Great Hall that morning, Gaara drank a great deal of milk to soothe his sore throat, and wondered how one fought off a cold. Perhaps the wizards had done something useful for once and cured the common cold. Draco said they had not.
Luna moped into her cereal, fighting back tears and fighting off the drowsiness that threatened to drown her in her Cheerios.
Lupin was forced to show up to breakfast despite his recovery only just beginning. Dumbledore had suggested he do this every few months to stop people recognising the pattern of absences. He was in a terrible state despite the Wolfsbane potion he had taken, with both the physical strain and the mental unease, remembering flickers of the night before.
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