4/6

Gaara puzzled over what had put him in such a bad mood so suddenly until he admitted that it probably was because they were acting so coldly to his friend. (He was going to have spend some time in the coming days trying to discern what his standards for friends were, considering who he had a tendency to socialise with in this world and his own.)

The Slytherins took notice of the silent (serial-killer-ish) teen's threatening within seconds and were cowed quickly. Wondering how much he could get away with before one of the adults intervened, Gaara advanced on the cowering Slytherin snobs with less than pacifistic intentions.

Fortunately for all involved, Draco was the one to intervene and before Gaara worked out some of his misplaced aggression on his classmates.

"Well..." He interjected, placing himself between Gaara and the people stupid enough to set him off, "if you would be kind enough to follow me, I can show you all to the main event."

As if what they had been suffering through so far might actually be considered a social event. If it really was just a precursor to the night's main event, the festivities would likely involve serious physical torture.

Gaara looked on with a smirk as the teenagers were hot on Draco's heels as the next lot of party-goers was ferried to the ballroom. And in all of this tenseness and pressure, Luna had hardly stopped for breath as she continued on with her ramblings. She was a nervous talker.

...Well, she was naturally a talker, and a loquacious, nervous chatterbox when stressed.

It wasn't until the crowd had turned the corner that Gaara realised that Luna had failed to accompany the group that included her parents (and the Minister of Magic). As irritating as her theories and ideas were, Gaara found himself enjoying the presence of a mindless distraction in this boring evening. Plus, in a tenuous way, Luna reminded him of his equally vapid blonde friend back home. Gaara was a creature of habit and he gravitated towards the familiar, he was finding.

At least this one wasn't reminiscing about the time he defeated a comrade by farting in his face.

For all of his refinement and sophistication, Gaara really didn't have the highest standards for friendship.

As time wore on, Gaara even engaged Luna a little, adding his own ideas to her outlandish theories and conspiracies. The only way to deal with Luna, Gaara found, was to just humour her, otherwise it brought conversations to a halt. Plus, some of them were arguably quite amusing.

He was just considering the realistic likelihood of the muggle royal family actually being made up of human-shaped reptiles (admittedly, rather low) when the final young party guest was thrown into their midst. Luckily, it was the ever-friendly, if a little timid, Miles Bletchley. In fact, the only time Miles would step outside of himself was when it was concerning Quidditch. It was then that Gaara realised that Luna's own lunacy did not preclude her from the cultural insanity of Quidditch. It turned out that she was actually quite the fan...

Great.

Time in all of its relativistic glory slowed down to a halt for the next ten minutes as Luna and Miles exchanged witty blows in a Quidditch debate that lost Gaara's interest after the third syllable. It was at that ten minute marker that the gods took mercy and the Malfoy seniors told Gaara to take the accumulated guests onwards into the house and to the ballroom. Lacking any means to politely beckon the guests to follow him, Narcissa did the patronising thing and did it for him.

"Pardon me, ladies and gentlemen, our young guest, Gaara, would like to show you to the ballroom. If you please follow him."

At least she hadn't made mention of his disability, though doubtlessly that had been brought up in whispers earlier in the evening. He was a curious addition to the event, like a dancing bear invited in to entertain guests.

The walk from the entry hall to the ball room was not a long one and could easily have been left to the guests to make on their own steam, but Gaara figured this was just one of those incomprehensible expectations under the same parachute of 'etiquette' that disallowed and obliged a myriad of bizarre acts and behaviours. He knew to just go with it and save himself the headache of hitting his head against a brick wall, otherwise known as debating 'good manners.'

The ball room was even more opulent than it had looked earlier that evening, now lit by the many chandeliers and filled to the brim with nattering, well-dressed witches and wizards. The mixture of squib and muggle-born servers flitted around and tried to be invisible amongst the people who hated them the most in Britain.

Gaara hoped the hors d'oeuvres would gravitate towards him sooner rather than later as he was already peckish and he had been warned that the actual food would be a long time in the coming.

As he meandered towards where Draco was introducing two equally snobby witches to one another, Gaara marvelled at those assembled in the room. He realised that it was only in Hogwarts that the Slytherins were easily distinguished by their green colourings. Out in the real world, their true prowess was revealed: blending in. A Slytherins greatest trick, their greatest skill was the camouflage themselves as a Ravenclaw, or a Gryffindor or even a Huffelpuff.

It was only a few minutes later that mister and missus Malfoy entered the chamber, and Draco helpfully explained that the time for polite arrivals had passed and anyone that came after this point would be greeted by a squib and would be given a worse table. Draco's mother was a genius when it came to seating arrangements.

Draco said that last fact with a curious sense of pride that Gaara wondered about.

Along with the hosts of the evening came the few witches and wizards who had chanced arriving late or not coming at all,including Severus Snape, who Gaara decided he would keep an eye on this evening. If he lost track of his head of house, there was every chance (especially with his luck) that they would run into each other. That was the last thing either on them needed.

Gaara hung around Draco for the most part, not needing to say anything and just looking a little bored (which did not look at all out of place amongst these high society people). He was given little regard in conversations, or rather, he was given little regard in the conversations that were directed at Draco or him. It wasn't simply his narcissism judging by the not-so-subtle stares that pierced the back of his head every few seconds.

Draco had, like in so many other areas recently, explained before the party that many people would be curious about him and not only because... (here, Draco had actually paused and blushed, trying to think of a kind way of calling Gaara weird)... of Gaara's eccentricities but also because it was highly irregular for a family like the Malfoys to invite guests to stay. Especially those without extensive and illustrious lineages behind them.

Still, if Draco was an expert on high society matters, Gaara was an expert at ignoring ill-concealed stares.

It was that very same ignorance that blinded Gaara to one person in particular who was failing spectacularly to hide his interest in the red-head. Fudge had, of course, been aware that one of the reasons of the sleepless nights of late would also be in attendance at the annual Malfoy shindig, and so he had searched the crowds as soon as he arrived for him.

He was certainly less... imposing than he might have been lead to believe, though those eyes of his were as terrifying as all of the reports on the boy had suggested. The underwhelming nature of Gaara's stature and appearance seemed to be a consensus in this world. Gaara liked to believe that the people in his world had feared him as much for his impressive physical presence as his mountainous body count.

Everyone takes pride in something.

Fudge had been advised by Morbidus, who was taking the lead on this 'potential issue', not to interact or approach Gaara in any way this evening. Doing so would complicate any future plans inexorably, so of course Fudge went over at the first opportunity to take the boy's measure.

The prematurely aging life-long politician was still holding out hope, deep down, this was in fact just a boy and the mysteries surrounding him would amount to no threat. He was many things, most of which might not endear him to the enlightened voter, but he was not the sort of man who took pleasure or joy in planning the persecution and defeat of children.

He may be ineffectual (according to some), but he was no monster!

Of course, it would be questionable for someone of his extremely important station to brazenly approach and introduce himself to a pair or relative unknowns, children even. Gaara was (to the unknowing masses) a complete nobody, and the less said about the spawn of that insane Lovegood writer the better. It was one thing when a magazine called him a fool or a liar, at least those he could reasonably deny, but when he was accused of being two dwarves pretending to be a full sized man so that he could steal the toupees of Wizagmot officials, he had not recourse. If he tried denying that, he would look the fool regardless.

It was just luck that, in this situation, the problem turned into the solution as Luna spotted the Minister of Magic close by and dragged Gaara over. She introduced herself, and when Gaara made no move to do the same, she introduced him too.

"Good evening, Miss Lovegood, and Mister Gaara. I've read many of your father's... articles. They were very interesting." Fudge said, trying inconspicuously not to look into either of the terrifying teenagers' eyes. Well, Luna was more off-putting than actually scary to look at. She was scary in the manner that a complex tome or a great height might be.

Not that he would ever admit such a feeling.

"Thank you, Minister. I'm glad that rumour that you can't read turned out to be false. Illiteracy is a terrible thing." Luna was entirely oblivious to Fudge's anger at her statement. The man clearly didn't know that Luna was incapable of the complex malice that would have predicated her having been mocking him.

She was honestly glad...

Gaara wondered if any prose written about Luna would include an inordinate number of elipses.

"And Gaara, I've heard so much about you; it's not every day that Hogwarts takes in an exchange student. I also heard that you were a foreigner, is that true?" Luna had seen something shiny and wandered away from the conversation, Gaara would track her down in a few minutes to make sure she was okay.

'You've heard a lot.'

"My, I almost hadn't believed the stories about your magical abilities, they really are quite remarkable." Fudge stared at the sand freely floating its formless state, knowing that there was no magical artefact or wand at work here and that it was entirely Gaara's power.

"I am glad the Malfoys have been so hospitable in your time here. I work very closely with Lucius at the Minsitry and I know that he is a good person." Both of the conversational partners wondered if the other know how false that statement was.

'The people of this country are very kind.'

"Where are you from originally, if you don't mind my asking?"

'A country far away, hidden from most. It isn't a very kind or forgiving place.'

"I'm sorry to hear that."

'War can be hard on people, and that turns them hard.'

"...Yes, I suppose it does." Cornelius didn't know what to make of that. The mention of war, even the word itself, sent shivers down his spine. Could that be the truth, the hidden fact that would fill in the blanks of this mysterious boy? A three-letter word that accounted for so much.

"So, how did you come to find yourself in Britain? So many fine magical countries to choose from, after all. Do you perhaps have family here, or you knew someone in the country beforehand?"

'I wanted to travel and England seemed like a fitting choice. It's very different from my home, but there is a lot here that I have come to appreciate.'

"And your parents?" It was hardly normal for a boy, not even at his majority, to travel to distant countries and spend at least a school year there; not without a good reason, it wasn't.

'I am an orphan.' Gaara didn't usually hold much of an emotional inflection on his face as he spoke, and 'talking' about his dead parents was not different. He hated his father and the less said about his non-existent relationship with his mother the better, but he didn't particularly feel anything when discussing their deaths. It was natural to him.

"I am sorry to hear that," Fudge noticed the Malfoy boy coming towards them. From what Morbidus had told him, Draco was already quite close to Gaara and knew his opportunity was at an end. "And I didn't mean to give you the third-degree. You see, the Ministry seems to have lost their records from when you entered the country and it seemed like a perfect opportunity to perform the routine checks myself. Besides, it was a pleasure to meet you."

With Draco almost to them, Fudge nodded his head one final time and strolled away to the closest circle that was of high-enough class to host him.

"What did the Minister want with you?" Draco greeted Gaara.

Gaara shrugged a little and turned towards where he had seen someone carrying trays of little morsels. Narcissa had insisted that none of them eat lunch as it would not do to be bloated before the party. Whatever that meant.

He was intercepted by the woman herself and had to watch the last trays leave the room while Narcissa subtly fussed over both his and Draco's hairs and robes. Draco's hair was never out of place to begin with (ever) and Gaara's was a lost cause. Draco knew to stay still until the henpecking was finished, as there was nothing he could do to expedite it, but Gaara squirmed relentlessly under the all-too familiar attention. Draco's mother reminded him far too much of his sister.

Mrs Malfoy walked the two boys around the crowds until they came upon Luna and her father, spiritedly debating one thing or another with a few other guests. Narcissa held her breath until the other people, all much more important than Xenophillius Lovegood, began to laugh along with him. She deposited Gaara there and dragged Draco back towards the head table where the Minster, her husband and a few other choice individuals were preparing to be seated for dinner.

Gaara, despite being a personal guest of the Malfoy family, was a nobody and was relegated to sitting with the other nobodies, aka everyone that Draco had whimsically invited. They were close to the back of the hall and would likely not draw much attention there.

Everyone took their sweet time in moving towards their assigned seats, and when everyone was sat at the dozens upon dozens of round tables, Lucius stood up and began the first of his many toasts and speeches of the meal. It was for this very eventuality that Gaara had surreptitiously snuck in a small book inside his robes. He had been afraid that Narcissa might notice, but from the look on her face when she spotted him with the book in his hands, he had to guess she would not have permitted it had she known.

Luckily her hands were tied and she could do nothing to confiscate his distraction for now. Draco had paled and then stifled a wry smile at the sight.

The food was good, but Gaara would have settled for mission rations if they had come sooner.

When everyone had finished, and Gaara was sure he could go a few days without interacting with anyone, the party goers moved back on the hall floor and some began to dance.

Gaara honestly found it hilarious that Draco was kept so busy by the eligible bachelorettes vying for his attention. He had had no idea that Draco was such a snappy dancer.

Luna eventually asked him to dance but didn't look all that upset when he flatly turned her down. He had glibly told her 'maybe next time I'm at a dance.'

He wouldn't be here this time next year, with any luck, and he surely wouldn't come to one of these parties again if he had any say in it.

Gaara was soon treated to the sight of Slytherins getting drunk. The high society members left when it was polite to do so, but the slightly less reserved men and women took their chance to let loose and have a good time, and even the Malfoys (stone sobre, of course) looked to be enjoying themselves a little.

Draco looked like he was happy when he finally got a chance to stop dancing and have a rest. He gravitated towards Gaara at his first break and counted on Gaara's patented exclusion zone to keep any further suitors at bay.

The night wore on and soon the departing guests snowballed and everyone had left, except for a couple of stragglers. Luna had be very thankful to the Malfoys and to Gaara (though he had tried to explain that it wasn't right to thank him as it wasn't his party and he had no part in planning it), before she helped her totally plastered father into the floo. The other moderates that Draco had invited were similarly thankful, but in a much more respectable and reserved fashion.

The time came that there were only two families still keeping the hosts and Gaara from settling down for the night. The Crabbe and Goyles had clearly planned to stay behind after everyone else, in order to get Lucius alone and continue to try and re-endear themselves to him.

Such desperation was hardly befitting Purebloods and Death Eaters, but without the Malfoy family's close backing, both the Crabbes and Goyles had little hope of staying above the Weasley/poverty line. The only reason that Lucius had already invested so much of his time and so many of his resources in the useless lot was because he had needed underlings. He had cut them off as a warning and a punishment for their sons' actions, but he had found his burdens lightened without them around. Now he had absolutely no need of either family, and he was not afraid to let them know it.

Sadly, decorum would never allow him to kick out guests that he had personally invited.

It was after ten minutes of casually suggesting that the party was over that Gaara proved his utility to the Malfoy family. Both the Crabbes and Goyles had tried to keep most of the party goers between them and Gaara the entire evening, and now that there were no more witches and wizards to acts as barriers, they 'subtly' tried to place the Malfoys between them and Gaara, who was sedately sitting at one of the nearby tables, suffering from the fatigue associated with intense boredom.

It was just about when Crabbe snior started off about his latest business venture, and dropping conspicuous hints about needing a financial backer, that Gaara had had enough. He slid out one of his kunai loudly and began to sharpen it on his small battlefield whetstone. Of course, none of his knives needed sharpening, Kankuro's weapons (which he often borrowed) could stay sharp with months of use. And the kunai he had borrowed before he left had hardly seen any use at all.

But none could deny the intimidating effect the sound of metal scraping against the grinding stone had on the quiet audience. The Crabbes and Goyles were undeniably scared and their sons broke into cold sweats.

Narcissa had to wrestle the smile off of her face when the heads of both of the detestable families fought to make their pitiful excuses and all but run from the ballroom and back to the floo before the other.

Draco had expected Gaara to have disappeared whilst they watched the other flee, but when he turned back to him, he had just return the kunai and its sharpening stone to his hidden pouchand looked up at Narcissa.

"You may go now. Thank you for behaving yourself tonight, Gaara." She showed him a rare smile and he... didn't have an expression on his face.

Faster than Draco could blink, Gaara had disappeared from the ballroom, probably to soothe his raging headache. The Malfoys also decided to turn in for the night, albeit at a much slower pace. They left the mess for the squibs and muggleborns to clean up. They should have the place spotless by the morning.

If they didn't, Lucius would be having words with their supervisor, or destroying their reputation so that they would never get hired again.