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He stayed with Remus despite the snooty nurse's insistence that he could leave his friend in their capable if 'busy' hands. He had 'politely' declined and watched as they helped him change into a hospital gown and took him to his protected room to perform their checks and pulled out the messy stitched Sirius had applied and tried to heal the offending wound.

Only when they had wrapped the cursed area in gauze and given him a cocktail of potions did Sirius feel it was okay to leave him to rest. He would be visiting at least once every day no matter how many scowls the nurses sent his way.

He would definitely be bringing Gaara next time. He had wanted to keep Gaara out of the re-admittance process since Gaara was a protective boy and might have taken the unfair treatment poorly.

He did not want to jump to believing that Gaara might do what he did to the Death Eater who hurt Remus, but he knew exposing the surprisingly sensitive teen to the open discrimination was risky. The risk would be lesser tomorrow.

Hopefully.

As a passing nurse scoffed at him, Sirius stopped caring about the risks.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Gaara did not sulk but if he did he might have been sulking now. He had assured Sirius he would remain calm but evidently he would have to regain Sirius' trust. With everything that had happened this past week, it seemed like a light penalty for his transgressions.

Still, he not-sulked.

He spent the morning tidying up the library and sorting his piles of notes. He was planning on requesting a switch from Divinations to Artithmancy since the smell in the Divinations tower still made him ill and he had spent a lot of time studying Arithmancy for his independent research.

If he wanted to switch, he would have to take a short test at the beginning of term to prove he would be able to keep up with the student who had already taken the class for a year. He felt confident he would be able to perform well on any theoretical test they could reasonably expect him to take in September. He just hoped there was no practical wandwork required, otherwise he might have to spend another year drinking (admittedly rather well brewed) tea in Hogwarts' most pungent tower.

He would need to "ask Sirius' permission" before he could reply to Professor McGonagall, not that this infantilisation would present any real problems beyond his continually wounded pride. Sirius would respect his decision and rubberstamp any academic choices he made.

As he often had, Gaara suspected this attention and supervision by Professor McGonagall was as a substitute for his Head of House. Whoever had decided Severus Snape would make a good teacher should probably have someone overseeing their everyday decision making.

Another owl arrived and Gaara went to collect it, expecting it to be the second letter from Potter today. He really would have to ask Sirius to install a letterbox or limit the owls to no more than two or three a day. When he saw it was neither Potter's impressive owl nor Sirius' dull one, he read over the address on the envelope. It was to 'Mr. Sirius Orion Black', certainly not from Potter then. The return address was certainly not Privet Drive either, it was from the D.M.L.E.

Since this was going to be about him, Gaara ripped open the envelope. If Sirius was going to treat him like an unstable child, Gaara would do the same and check the man's post.

'Dear Mr. Black,

In accordance with the protocol outlined at the time of your interview on Friday 19th August, the DMLE is exercising its prerogative to perform an inspection of your home and follow up with any remaining questions our interviewers might have for you and your ward, Gaara. As stipulated in department guidelines, you have twenty-four hours to prepare for this follow-up interview and inspection.

Our investigators will arrive at 13:00 on Tuesday 23rd August.

Please ensure both you and your ward are both present at your home during this period. If you have any objections, contact our office in a timely manner and they will be considered.

Yours sincerely,

Amelia Bones

Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement'

Gaara read back over the letter and glanced at the nearest clock. It was Tuesday today and the time was twelve-noon, meaning they had sent the letter with only an hour to prepare. The letter was dated yesterday, and Gaara was sure if they tried lodging any sort of complaint the Ministry would claim the owl had gotten lost for a day.

Same political tactics, different world.

Still, this presented the problems of Sirius being out and the house being a mess of dust and dark artefacts. The dust he could ignore, but all of the illegal items would need to be hidden away.

He ran to the library first and collected all of the books that even he knew were objectionable and stuffed them in any suitable hiding places he could think of. It was sad to see the shelves with so many obvious gaps on them, but even the Ministry wouldn't be able to kick up a fuss over things that weren't there.

After he had stashed the books, he moved from room to room, taking everything Sirius had warned him not to play with and put it in the attic or the room Sirius regularly reminded him he was forbidden to enter because it was filled with dark objects. Of course, this just left them with a room absolutely cluttered with illegal and suspect items, but they would just have to find a way of keeping the inspectors out of that one room.

Forty-five minutes Gaara ran about the house before the door opened downstairs and he dashed to inform Sirius. With the emergency in front of them, he was pretty sure Sirius wouldn't begrudge him opening the man's post. As quickly and succinctly as he could, Gaara informed the man of what the letter had said and how long they had left, and after only thirty second of profanity, Sirius jumped into action and picked out the things Gaara hadn't noticed on his sweep of the house.

When they had collected most of the knickknacks from around the house and stuffed them into the absolutely forbidden room, Sirius cast a spell and the door melted into the wall and Gaara believed one would never know there was a room there at all, if they had not seen it before.

"They might notice if they look closely so we'll have to keep them moving around here." Sirius said. "Where did you hide the books?"

Gaara said, "They won't be found. I will move them back into the library later."

Sirius stared for a moment but resolved to ask about it later.

The inspectors knocked on the door five minutes early, sending Sirius scurrying to the entryway and cursing again, this time at their uncharacteristic punctuality. He looked back, wondering whether he should have made Gaara dress up after all, but yanked the door open after a final insistent knock rang out.

"Good afternoon." He declared with a flourish, smiling widely at the pair he held nothing but contempt for.

Gaara watched Sirius try to act casually and he almost wanted to smile at the failed attempt. Sirius has spent the last five minutes after finishing their stashing, pulling a comb through his tangled hair and working on his pristine beard. Gaara found Sirius' preoccupation with his beard peculiar. It might have been disturbing if he had not watched his older brother spend hours before every mission touching up his "war paint".

"Good afternoon, sir. Madam Bones should have informed you of our inspection today. We will need to look around your home before asking follow-up questions on the matters of your guardianship of…" He looked at a piece of parchment, "Gaara, and regarding the terrorist incident on the morning of August 19th. I am Auror Padley, this is Auror Unglestein." He gestured to the taller Auror standing behind him on the doorstep.

"Unglestein?" Sirius repeated.

"It is Austrian." Auror Unglestein said in a surprisingly posh English accent.

"Oh, well, very good." Sirius blurted out nervously. "Come in, please."

"We would like to perform our checks first, if you would not mind." Unglestein said as he walked past Sirius and to the stairs. "We will start from the top down. You may wait here."

"We won't be long." Padley added.

"No, I'll show you around. It's a big house and I wouldn't want you getting lost." Sirius strode forwards and slid onto the staircase before Unglestein could take his first step.

Gaara watched them walk upstairs and waited where he was. If Sirius didn't return in ten minutes Gaara would go and provide back up.

Nine minutes later they clomped back down to the ground floor together and Sirius was not in chains so Gaara assumed they had not found the cornucopia of illegal and dangerous items.

"Of course, the department can't afford to perform as many of these spot-checks as they would like, to keep everyone safe, but with such prominent cases such as yours and Gaara's here, we might make an exception. It's a publicity thing, you understand. Still, I shouldn't worry about the inconvenience too much. They wouldn't be too frequent, I don't think. Certainly not if your notoriety decreases, sadly." Auror Padley said.

"That is a shame," Sirius said, "but as private citizens it is to be expected that we be overlooked from time to time like that."

Gaara had listened to the entire veiled threat quietly. The implication was clear and desirable for both parties. Gaara would happily stay away from the limelight and Sirius would much rather find himself in the gossip rags rather than the front pages of the Daily Prophet yet again.

"Let's all sit down and get this interview over with. I'm sure you both have more important duties to be getting back to." Sirius said.

Both the Aurors were conspicuously quiet.

"Where are my things?" Gaara spoke up at last.

"Pardon?" Unglestein said as he turned back to the boy he had been ignoring.

"His gourd and his like knapsack thing." Sirius said, unsure of how to describe Gaara bag other than as a weapons pouch.

Padley pulled out his notebook, into which he had been jotting countless notes as he toured around the house, and flipped to the first page. "Ah, yes I see, I'm afraid they were destroyed. Both items. It says here that the gourd disintegrated and the sand could not be recovered, and your pouch was destroyed by the Department of Mysteries as it was deemed to be of a dark nature. You have the Ministry's apologies and can apply for compensation through the public liaisons office."

What Padley had not been told was that the pouch had not been destroyed so much as a detection spell used by the D.o.P. had ignited whatever explosive had been stashed in there. The gourd had in fact been handled with extra care after the explosion and despite the precautions they took it had spontaneously broke apart after a couple days. The sand was now being carefully analysed for any residual magic.

"Typical." Sirius muttered under his breath.

Gaara frowned but decided nothing would come of him speaking up about it. The gourd had already been replaced but that pouch had contained his only kunai and exploding tags. While complaining would not get him anywhere, he could still glare at the bearers of bad news.

"So, let us begin…" Unglestein prompted, pulling out his own notebook and pencil.

What followed was another tedious interview where leading questions were posed to both guardian and ward, and few if any real answers were given. They tried the same old questions nonetheless, especially wanting to know where Gaara came from and what his second name was since no one believed him when he said he didn't have one.

Surely it wasn't such a strange thing. It wasn't as if Gaara was a common name, and he was pretty easy to distinguish from amongst a crowd.

Sirius had helped Gaara with evading his questions and Gaara tried to reciprocate, though his radar for nuance was not quite as skilled as Sirius'. When it became clear to all that the only way the Auror pair would be getting any answers worth writing down would be with the liberal and illegal use of Veritaserum, they stood up and thanked their host for the tea they hadn't drunk.

"Of course, and please do stop by as often as your department thinks is necessary. Also, please talk to Madam Bones about perhaps retiring her owl as it appears to be getting a bit old. The Ministry is only a few miles away and it took a whole day for it to get here. I don't mind the lack of notice this time but if you would be so kind as to pass along my suggestion…"

"Of course, thank you for mentioning it." Auror Padley said, appearing to be in a bit of a rush to leave now that his afternoon had conclusively been wasted.

They left and once Sirius slammed the door shut behind them, he practically collapsed with the weight removed from his chest.

"You are good at bluffing." Gaara said from his seat, sipping on his water.

"Not as good as Remus. Used to steal half my pocket money at school during the monthly poker matches." He smirked. "He even managed to fleece Slughorn once, which is why McGonagall banned all gambling on school grounds. Threatened to expel us when she found out we were still playing cards. I wonder if she's still enforcing that rule so harshly?"

Gaara had never been one for games of chance so it had never been a pertinent problem. Plus, it wasn't like a silly moratorium would keep Gaara from doing what he wanted anyway.

"So, now that that's over, where did you hide those books?"

Gaara thought for a second and answered, "I found a servants passage upstairs…" He started.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Arthur had picked Harry up early on Wednesday morning, aiming to drop him off at the Burrow so he could still make it to work in time. Even though Harry was excited to get back to his world, six seemed far too early to be doing anything during the summer holidays. Even Aunt Petunia never woke him up before eight. It was the one small mercy she could be relied upon to provide him.

"Well, I'm sorry I can't stick around but there's work to be done." Arthur said in all good cheer before leaving again, flooing to the Ministry.

"Harry!" Molly bustled over, "Welcome back. Have you eaten yet?" She asked, already putting some toast under the grill for him.

No point in telling her he had already had cereal, especially when she had a dish of Irish butter and multiple jars of homemade jam on offer.

"Ron's supposed to have gotten up by now." Molly bemoaned, looking to the clock displaying seven a.m. She had roused her youngest boy and Hermione in Ginny's room half an hour ago to be ready for Harry's arrival, but so far none had come downstairs. Teenagers!

It was a few minutes later, as Harry was enjoying the full Weasley hospitality, that Ginny jogged down into the kitchen. As was customary, she still froze up in that first moment of seeing him and blushed bright red before ducking away again.

It was these routines that made his visits to the Burrow so comforting.

After Ginny had calmed down, she had returned to the kitchen and taken a chair as far away from Harry as she could, her milky complexion still stained scarlet, and mumbled a greeting to him. It was adorable, he thought.

Another ten minutes later, as Harry was feeling a little ill from being stuffed with toast (and a few freshly baked crumpets too), Hermione finally arrived, her hair still damp from the shower.

"Hello, Harry!" She smiled, running over to hug him.

"Morning." He smiled back. "Where's Ron?"

"Oh you know him!" She harrumphed and sat next to Ginny. "I just had to wake him up. Again!"

"Well, all the hot water will be gone by the time he does decides to get up." Molly scoffed, setting a laden plate in front of Hermione, which she smiled at but did not rush to eat.

Harry knew the girls did not like to eat as much as the boys, he and Ron had observed as much during meals over the past year. Ron had a convoluted theory involving a reverse correlation to the size of certain assets but Harry just thought most of the boys in their House were gluttons. Including himself.

The rest of the Weasleys trickled down at a pace that would make molasses jealous. Ron came last, scowling and complaining that all of the hot water was gone when he had gone to take his shower, and now he was left with burnt toast!

Ron was happy to see Harry again and they immediately tried to jump into a discussion on Quidditch in the aftermath of the World Cup since the results were being contested and the trophy was being held hostage until an enquiry could be held.

"Honestly you two! You can go on and on about Quidditch tomorrow when I leave. Until then, please try to keep it to a minimum."

The pair looked at each other, sighed, then Ron piped up, "Now that Wood's gone, do you think I should try out for the Keeper position?"

"Ronald!" Hermione scolded him for ignoring her words completely.

"Come on Herm, I'm sure it couldn't hurt for him to try out at least." Harry defended his friend unknowingly. "Angelina Johnson's taking over as captain so I don't see why he shouldn't go for it."

Harry patted a hurt Ron on the shoulder and Hermione tried not to scream at her two best friends.

After breakfast was finished with and Molly had politely refused Harry's habitual attempt to help with the dishes, before complaining that she had to do all the housework herself at her lazy children, the Trio retreated from the other Weasleys and went to Ron's room. They had to skirt around the twins on the staircase who would only let them pass once Harry had assured them Sirius was going to 'pay what he owed'.

When they were in the relative security of Ron's small room, Hermione started right away, "So, come on, time to tell me; how did you do?"

Ron looked sheepish, presumably having avoided telling Hermione last night when she arrived. She turned her gaze on him so Harry conceded and pulled out the parchment he had stuffed in his pocket when he was packing, ready for the inevitable interrogation she would put them through.

He whipped out his results and she studied them intensely while Ron made a show of looking for his own sheet, having retrieved it from his mother who had wanted to keep it with all of the other mementos she collected from her children.

With Hermione's set out on the floor with the other two, they were able to compare results. Hermione led the grades by a long stretch, except in the DADA practical exam where Harry had managed to achieve an Exceeds Expectation to her Outstanding. She tried not to let it get to her. Ron's grades were 'okay', his words, but Hermione made sure to point out all of his deficiencies so he might improve himself.

He did not receive the words with the sentiment from which they were spoken.

After Hermione had made her unrealistic plans to help the boys study harder this coming year but before she could start drawing charts to cement those plans, Harry pulled out a fourth piece of parchment, this one handwritten.

"What's that?" Ron said.

"They're Gaara's results. Sirius sent them to me." He said, flattening the creased parchment on the floor and seeing how they stacked up against Hermione's.

"Bloody hell, he managed to pass Potions!"

"I know. I wonder how he managed that. I thought Snape was going to kill him that one time."

"Snape wouldn't really hurt a student, Harry." Hermione chided. "I knew Gaara was revising in his own time, but I didn't think he could actually pass that way." Hermione seemed to be having a spiritual crisis with the knowledge that classes were not wholly necessary even to pass classes.

"Wanna bet." Ron snorted. "Did pretty well considering how rubbish he is at magic, though, don't you think?"

"That's what I thought. Plus he's never studied magic before last year, apparently, other than his sand thing."

"Probably just said that to get them to go easy on him." Ron muttered.

"If that were true, Hermione and I would have gotten better results than you in our first year, since we came from muggle homes."

"You did get better grades." Ron said, perplexed.

"Harry!" Hermione slapped him on the arm but failed to conceal her smile fully.

Ron frowned and scooped up his results sheet.

"You could both do much better in History of Magic." She said. Both boys had gotten Acceptables, and probably just scraped by to get them. They groaned and Ron threw a pillow at her making her shriek. A pillow fight ensued and Ron came out the victor, reclaiming some of his besmirched honour.

When they had calmed down marginally, Harry piped up, "Any guesses to who's going to be teaching DADA?"

"Well, the pattern so far is You-Know-Who, crazy prat, and werewolf working with a mass murderer… I'm thinking the Loch Ness Monster for year four." Ron said.

"He wasn't working with a mass murderer, just a wrongly convicted mass murderer who escaped from an inescapable prison." Harry smiled.

"You two should be more respectful. Professor Lupin was the best professor we've had."

"Padfoot says I'm not allowed to call him 'Professor Lupin' any more. If I do he said he was going to have to 'learn how to discipline an errant child' or something like that. I have to call him Remus or Moony or sponger."

"You can't be serious, Harry!" Hermione was flabbergasted.

"Actually, I think you'll find-"

Harry's witty rejoinder borrowed from his godfather was interrupted by Hermione's hand shooting out to cover his mouth. "Don't finish that sentence, Harry James Potter!"

He swallowed his words.

"He's nothing but a bad influence on you, you know that, right?" She said.

"He'll be so happy to hear you said that." Harry smiled.

"Just so long as you don't start listening to Fred and George. Those two don't half keep on about Sirius. They were annoying enough before." Ron complained.

"So, come on, Herm, who do you think will be the next DADA liability?" Harry asked.

Hermione huffed but answered, "They will be the best qualified person for the job, obviously."

"Because Quirrel and Lockhart were such brilliant picks." Ron griped.

"Well, I'm sure they looked like the perfect candidates on paper." She argued. "Anyway, Professor Dumbledore will have learned from those two so we should have a great teacher this year."

"Not like he's been doing the job for the last hundred years." Ron said.

"Actually, he's been teaching at Hogwarts since 1913 and became the headmaster in 1971." Hermione said.

"Enough about DADA." Harry mediated. "Hermione, what classes are you doing this year? I'm still not sure how you managed to keep up with all those classes last year."

Hermione averted her eyes, "Well, I was managing my time very carefully and I did one during my lunch breaks." She rattled the lies off quickly. "Anyway, Professor McGonagall wrote to tell me that I have to reduce my class load this year. I'm dropping Divinations and Ancient Runes."

"Really? I would've thought you'd drop Care of Magical Creatures before Runes." Ron said.

"I thought about it, but then I would miss Hagrid's teaching. Besides that, Professor Babbling said I could still take the end of year tests with the other students so I just have to do what Gaara does and read in my own time."

"So you're just going to do the class anyway? You already spend all your time reading!" Ron exclaimed.

"It's not all my time, Ronald."

"I wouldn't joke, Ron. It's us that are going to suffer. When it's time to revise next year, Hermione's going to be far too busy to help us with those brilliant revision guides she makes."

Ron turned on Hermione, his eyes shining with unshed tears. He was just too pathetic to say no to at that moment. She sighed and started changing the study schedule in her head. Down to five hours sleep this year…

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Cornelius sat in his office, the lamps having been doused and the blinds drawn to stop his secretaries and those eagerly awaiting his audience from seeing him stave off his impending panic attack. They had just held a sudden vote of 'no confidence' in the Wizengamot, a vote he had only be made aware of three hours ago thanks to one of his lingering loyal members. The vote had swung in his favour but it was far too narrow to take any comfort in.

If it were not for a handful of witches and wizards who were more afraid of change than any follies Cornelius might visit upon the country, he would have been removed from office this afternoon and a snap election held in the coming weeks to determine his hastily prepared successor.

Still, no matter his victory, the narrow result made one message abundantly clear: he was on thin ice and it was on the fickle or expensive whims of politicians that he kept his office.