Going Magic

Chapter 6: The Trials and Tribulations of Kankurou

Characters: Gaara, Temari, Kankurou – gotta love the sandsibs – Naruto, Ino, Shikamaru and well, all the magic folk they run into over time

Pairings: Hmm, well they're kids so not so much. Possibly slight Temari/Shikamaru, and by the same definition you could consider there to be equally slight Hermione/Ron… I guess?

Set: Before Shippuden. During Book 5, Order of the Phoenix.

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto or Harry Potter

Note: It's been a good long while since I read HP so I'll probably be fuzzy on several details – however since I'll be writing primarily from the Naruto characters' POV I hope this won't be too annoying. The plotline would be altered if a gang of shinobi would enter the scene, right?

Warning: Crossover? Is that qualified to be a warning?

Italics – Japanese

Black eyes stared down at the redheaded brat that was staring back- unblinking, emotionless and – disturbingly - without pupils. If it wasn't for the obvious fact that the brat could actually see Severus might've suspected him to be blind.

Severus narrowed his eyes, forcing down the urge to sneer too vividly as he stared into the thoroughly blank eyes of Gaara Sabaku. He didn't like the boy. He didn't like any of those brats that referred to themselves at shinobi. Ninja, Dumbledore had called them when he'd explained to the Order about his new hired guards, and despite decades of ignoring his mostly muggle-upbringing Severus' mind had instantly drawn muddled pictures of men in black hoods and wielding pointy weapons. He had not expected children. He'd certainly not expected to be forced to teach the dunderheads.

Granted, the redhead that may have been an utter menace to McGonagall and Flitwick, actually did manage to follow instructions in Potions but that didn't mean that Severus relished his company. He didn't trust him, he didn't like him and he certainly didn't want to yield any time he might have to teach the brat Theoretical-Occlumency.

Theoretical-Occlumency. The quagmire of the fabricated phrase was enough to draw a sneer to Severus' lips. Theoretical-Occlumency, because Dumbledore had outright ordered him not to make use of proper means to teach the subject. Because Mr Sabaku was under the delusion that he had a demon lodged in his skull.

Foolishness.

Such utter and unrepentant foolishness; it was enough to raise the hackles of any being privileged with commonsense. And he, as usual, had to put up with the entire debacle. Naturally Dumbledore couldn't tutor the demented child himself – that dubious honour fell onto Severus' shoulders. Perchance it was for the best that the gormless git didn't teach the boy, he thought bitterly. Too many bats in the same bloody belfry might just cause it to come crashing down.

Nevertheless Occlumency needed to be taught by trial and error and not through discussion. "I only ask that you speak with the boy." Had Dumbledore said, smiling in that confounding and annoyingly placating manner he had. "Teach him what you can without the use of Legimens." His protests that there was no effective way of teaching Occlumency to someone – certainly not some addlebrained gnome without magic- through talking fell on deaf ears. "Talk to the boy, my friend. Make him feel comfortable. Treat him to some tea and perhaps a biscuit or two. All children enjoy the taste of a piece of baked goods." That had been Dumbledore's parting words, and although said in outmost seriousness Severus suspected a jibe. For whatever reason the Headmaster expected him to engage in some morbid sort of tea-party with this boy and by doing so also doling out the delicate art of fortifying the mind from external intrusion.

Or supposedly internal in this case, he added and sharply motioned for the fool boy to sit so they may finally get this detestable waste of time out of the way.

Torquil the cat mewed. The noise sounded doubtful and apprehensive in Minerva McGonagall's ears; which was expected since the poor creature had just undergone a magical sex-change. Eyeing the cat Minerva silently promised never to use her dear companion for experimentation again. This one – certainly final – instance was however something that could not be avoided since she needed to see this chakra-fuel-spell Uzumaki concocted in order to reverse it.

"Did it work, Professor?" Miss Yamanaka asked. The bright young lady sounded as doubtful as Torquil had and she eyed the grey feline with a frown on her unmarred face.

Mr Uzumaki scoffed and babbled something in Japanese at her, quickly bending down and grabbing a hold of Torquil. The cat mewed in protest as he was thrust into the air, dangling from the blond boy's hands. "Look! Look!" Uzumaki crowed proudly. "Success!"

Minerva only absently noted that the boy had a red mark on the back of his hand because she had to force down a wave of indignation on behalf of Torquil that was mewing and snarling in turns due to the abrupt treatment.

"Mr Uzumaki." She snapped, causing the boy to look up at her with a look of utter surprise. "Unhand my cat this instance."

For a moment the look of surprise faltered into something pouty and grumpy and Torquil took the chance of twisting around in the hands that were holding him to deliver a clawed slap across the boy's nose.

Uzumaki yelled and thrust the cat away to hold his bleeding nose. Torquil, true to his species' reputation, managed to land on his paws and hissed at the boy in rightful indignation. Minerva quickly bent down to sooth him, while Uzumaki muttered what at least sounded much like threats at the cat. Torquil eyed him warily, sniffed audibly, and jumped up on Minerva's desk, flipping his tail in agitation.

"Stop whining, brat. You're not mortally wounded." Miss Sabaku said, flicking Uzumaki on the nose which caused him to yell again. The girl smirked, obviously feeling that it was well deserved. Minerva assumed she was feeling vengeful on her brother's behalf; however she would not allow such behaviour regardless of the reason.

"Miss Sabaku, I would appreciate it if you would cease such hostile behaviour. Corporal punishment is not permitted in Hogwarts, regardless whether it comes from a teacher or a student." She said sharply. She'd expected the girl to scoff or mutter something in Japanese but instead she exchanged glances with the other two ninja in the study.

Then followed a quick but, from the sound of it, heated discussion in Japanese, and Minerva could only watch while Uzumaki kept gesturing wildly, pointing at his hand, and Sabaku shook her head stubbornly.

They were a lively bunch these ninja guards, and in that respect acted much like any of the children in the school, but something in their tone of voice when they'd speak their own language often told her that what they were discussing were not something easy or simple like homework or the woes of first loves.

"Mr Uzumaki, Miss Sabaku." She said sternly, causing both of them to look her way. Both were looking stubborn, both were looking ready to fight to the death for their conviction – certainly both were Gryffindor in nature. "I don't have all evening to set aside for this project, and I don't allow fighting in any sense or form in my classroom. That rule also extends to my private study." And then, fixing them both with the sternest look she could muster, she added: "Five points each from Gryffindor."

Uzumaki spluttered and made some exclamation she didn't understand while Sabaku crossed her arms in front of her chest and looked resigned in a decidedly grumpy manner.

"Guys," Yamanaka said lightly. "I think it's better if we stick with speaking English. I mean, it's rude to exclude people, and we need to work together to make this reversal spell work for Kankurou, right?" The girl walked over to where Torquil sat on the desk, stroking him gently over the back and then scratching him behind an ear. "Besides, I bet that Kankurou's not dealing half as well with being a girl as Torquil does, and we don't want him to… well, you know, beat someone up or something."

That 'or something' sounded rather ominous in Minerva's ears, and considering what she knew of the elder Sabaku brother she had to admit that she suspected that time was of the essence.

It was mostly silent in the Hogwarts library, only the sound of pages being turned or pen meeting parchment and the occasional sigh from a hardworking student could be heard. Just like Madam Pince preferred it in her domain. As did Hermione for that matter, which was the reason why she was currently in the library instead of in the common room where Fred and George were being very noisy. She hoped that Ron could keep them from wrecking too much trouble, but doubted it.

A part of her told her to go back and make sure that they didn't do anything reckless but she'd needed to think. In peace. Peace was not a common commodity in the Gryffindor tower.

There were two things on her mind; one she'd already sorted somewhat and it was something she planned on talking to Ron about. She was certain that she could get him to agree with her that they needed to do something about the horrible lack of teaching in Defence.

The other was not so much of a thought as it was… several small thoughts, collected since the start of term. She needed structure to sort them, so that was why she had sat down here, alone and with a piece of parchment.

Putting pen to paper she wrote down:

1. Six exchange students – Nowhere in Hogwart's a History is there mentions of exchange students

2. Japan – Don't look Asian

3. Transfiguration – How did Naruto do that?

4. Temari's brother –Ghara? – What was he doing on the grounds with Professor Dumbledore?

She put her pen down, looking over her notes. Over all it didn't look damning in any way, but there were just things about them that she couldn't explain. The first notation could easily be explained away; just because it might not have been done before didn't mean that it couldn't and Dumbledore always had run Hogwarts as he saw fit. The second again could be explained away. Perhaps their parents weren't from Japan. That Ravenclaw – Schikamaro? – did look Asian, anyway.

It was the last two she couldn't make sense of and the fourth she was certain she wasn't supposed to know about in the first place, and she wouldn't have if it hadn't been for the fact that Crookshanks had wanted to be let outside for a while in the wee hours of the morning. But Dumbledore had been there so even if she was right and there was more to these six, she was reasonably sure they didn't mean any harm. Or that Dumbledore would allow it if she was wrong about that last part. Besides, they were just kids – she was pretty certain most of them were younger than her even – and they didn't seem mean spirited. Even that Ino girl -that Ron kept saying shouldn't be in Slytherin- and Ghara who usually kept to Malfoy's lot hadn't ever seemed like they wanted in on the Hate-Harry-Potter-Club. Or the Anti-Mudblood-Brigade, or whatever they called it. They just seemed to be… watching. Often while looking bored.

Like that silly fight Malfoy had instigated before the entire mess with Naruto and Temari's brother – Temari had been standing close by, on their side of the argument, and Ino and Ghara had been standing close to Malfoy, but none of them seemed willing to engage. But they had watched closely, very closely.

It was as if they were-

"Hey."

Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin when a heavy book was dropped on the table and that guy, Schikamaro, slouched down in the seat across from her. He opened the book and began reading without another word.

"Er… Hello." She finally managed, quickly pushing her notes into her bag and hoping that he hadn't seen them. She didn't think that he had, he appeared very much engrossed in his reading. Out of curiosity she craned her neck to see what he was researching but she didn't recognise the book and the text was old and too scribbled to decipher up-side-down.

"Magical barriers." He said, glancing up at her and meeting her startled gaze. His lids were heavy and lazy but somehow his black eyed stare was piercing. He tapped a finger against the page he had been reading.

"Professor Flitwick didn't give us any homework on protective charms." Hermione blurted, part of her mind still set hard on the unnamed suspicions she'd been trying to sort out. Immediately after saying it she felt like a silly cow and she blushed. She might as well have told him that she was suspicious if she was going to sound like she was accusing him. "Are you studying for the OWLs?"

He shrugged. "I was curious about how the magic surrounding the school worked." He didn't sound the least bit curious but rather like it was all a huge shore. "I couldn't find any specific information about it in Hogwarts a History."

"You've read Hogwarts a History?" Hermione asked; surprised because she'd been convinced that she was the only one that actually had. At least she seemed to be the only one in Gryffindor that had.

He shrugged.

"I don't think you'll find anything about Hogwarts' barrier in that anyway." She said, falling into what Ron would call 'lecturing mode'. She wasn't telling him anything that he couldn't find out by himself anyway. "Well, what I mean is that I don't think anyone knows the exact charms used on Hogwarts. Not even Professor Dumbledore. The only one anyone is sure of is the Muggle-repelling charm."

He raised his sharp eyebrows at that, somehow still managing to look barely awake. "So it's more than one charm."

It wasn't really a question but she nodded anyway. "Professor Flitwick says that they've been piled on top of each other, and according to Vesta Verinacle in 'Practical Protection' Hogwarts itself is keeping them there. Sort of fuelling them, I guess. Most of them are really old, some, like the one on the girl's dormitories, were cast by the founders. "

He looked pensive and she got the impression that he was turning the information over in his head.

"I'm sure they won't have any of those spells on the OWLs though." She added. Just to underline the fact that she wasn't the least bit suspicious about him or the other new students and that she was only trying to help him prepare for the exams.

"I don't care about that." He drawled and yawned. "School's a drag."

Hermione could practically feel every nerve in her body rebel at that comment. "But it's important to get good grades on your OWLs. If you don't you might not be able to get into the classes you want next year!"

That only seemed to make him look even more bored and he closed his eyes; for a moment it looked as if he was preparing to fall asleep right there in the library. "Troublesome." He sighed, got up and then once grabbing his book he left the library.

Hermione stared after him, indignation and disbelief clinging to her mind. What a lazy… What was he exactly? The ever turning cogs in her head were working feverishly to determine that – and she suspected that they would continue to until she had her answer. If there was one to find.

Kankurou glared at the closed hospital door. Only moments earlier a whole entourage of medi-witches and wizards, along with a few potion experts and transfiguration philosophers had hurried out that way – throwing scandalized looks over their shoulders.

Bah, those useless idiots had been grating on his last nerve! For the past few days he'd been forced to play the nice, well behaved wizard boy and sit through their incessant prodding and poking, their wild theories as to why they couldn't undo the transfiguration and most of all the constant stream of half-arsed spell casting, experimental potions and general 'well we don't know what it is per say but let's try this and see what happens' attitude. It was his damn body they were treating as their personal amusement park - he planned on using it in the future, damn it all!

So he'd told them that – loudly and in no uncertain terms – before telling them that until they had a real plan of action and an actual method of getting this damn thing reversed they could all 'bugger the fuck off'. It seemed to hit the mark because they'd left him alone – finally.

In the silence, more deafening than ever now that their continuous chatter was gone, Kankurou lay down and heaved a sigh. His hands fell on his chest – they always did since he'd been transfigured into a girl, it was as if the damned things had their own gravitational force – and he patted the soft double mounds absentmindedly. Damn Naruto. This was his entire fault. And he would pay.

With that vehement thought still burning in his mind he closed his eyes and forced himself to relax. He hadn't slept well since they transported him to this damned place – mostly due to a bunch of inconsiderate jerks that called themselves medi-wizards - and even the most stalwart shinobi needed some shut eye every now and then. If he was lucky, he thought, he might dream about all of the great revenge tactics he would smash over Naruto's blond, fuzzy-brained head.

He woke up from the sound of the door to his room being opened.

"What do you people want now? I told you to leave me the hell-" Kankurou halted when he actually saw the man who'd entered his room. A foppish looking prat adorned with wavy blond hair and dressed in white hospital robes. He was crouching, as if expecting to have to make a run for it any second. "Who the hell are you?"

The man stood up straight, peering at Kankurou as if surprised to find him there at all, then he grabbed his hospital robe and made a sweeping motion with it that very nearly revealed more than Kankurou wanted to see. With an air of suddenly throwing back a cape to reveal his true identity the man flashed a ridiculously bright smile at him. "Gilderoy Lockhart, is the name my lovely lady! Now, now don't furrow that brow; I still have time to write you any number of autographs."

Kankurou looked on in annoyance while the man quickly, almost feverishly riffled through his pockets and retrieved a pad of paper and a battered looking peacock feather pen. "I don't want any damn autographs. Just get your arse out of my room."

"Everyone wants autographs." The blond man insisted, ripping off a paper he'd just written on and handing it to Kankurou with a flamboyant bow. "All the ladies wish to own the name of Gilderoy Lockhart. Truly I don't know how much will be left of it once I've gifted all of them with a piece. This incidentally is the starting point of my latest work. Go on, take it."

"I don't want it." Kankurou growled. "And I'm not a lady."

"Ah, of course. A lovely girl then." Gilderoy smiled, and it was almost enough to dazzle and sane being. "Indeed very pretty if a bit rough around the edges. Now, take it."

"I'm not a damn girl either." The sand nin snapped. "I'm a man, damn it!"

Gilderoy glanced at him through blond bangs, searchingly examining him with obvious doubt. Then his expression cleared as if hit with sudden inspiration. "Ah, I understand. Say no more." And he made a sneaky sort of wink.

"It's true."

"Certainly, certainly it is." The blond agreed, still smiling and now waving the piece of paper in front of Kankurou's face. "All that is said within these walls is true, you understand, and shall not be repeated elsewhere. I've been told that this is a hospital and people come to be better than they were. Surely such a thing as a girl wanting to be a man is not too great a feat for them here." That last part was said with no little amount of toothy smile and pride.

"Right." Kankurou muttered, who was starting to think that this guy was not exactly right in the head. Even by the astonishingly low standards of magic folk.

"Gilderoy?" A motherly looking witch poked her head inside. The blond man quickly hid his pad and pen as if suspecting that the woman would take them from him. With an air of gentle firmness the woman crossed her arms across her chest. "There you are. I've told you not to sneak out of your room, now leave the young lady alone and come eat your dinner." When the blond man meekly and still somewhat cheerfully did as she asked the woman turned to Kankurou. "I'm sorry Miss; he does have an astonishing talent for sneaking out of his room. He was hit with a spell you understand, that damaged his memory something horrid. Oh, I'm sure you've heard about it – the Prophet did an entire article about it as I recall. I hope he didn't bother you."

"I'm not a girl." Kankurou replied tonelessly.

The witch looked at him oddly for a second but then her expression cleared into one of realisation and she said: "Oh, I see. You're that unfortunate young man that…"

"Yes. Get out," Kankurou interrupted. "Some of us still have need of their beauty sleep."

The witch's eyes widened in indignation and she scoffed as she closed the door behind her with more force than strictly necessary, and Kankurou smirked. Magic folk sure were easily offended, he thought as he went back to sleep.

Come Wednesday he was ready to scale the walls out of sheer boredom and he'd taken to throwing random objects at any curious medic 'expert' trying to sneak into his room. Two hours ago he'd clipped one of the transfiguration-experts on the nose with a magazine.

He had been meaning to read it, having read something about Umbridge becoming a High inquisitor at Hogwarts, but once the 'expert' showed his sneaky nose – well, it was a too tempting a target. Besides, he had the right to defend himself, didn't he? Unfortunately the man had taken the magazine with him when he hurried back out of the room and Kankurou refused – on principle – to ask for another.

And now he was bored.

When one of the nurses stepped into his room with a tray containing breakfast he was actually relieved to have something to do – even if it was just eating. He thought he spied one of the 'experts' lurking in the hallway but at least the bastard didn't venture into the room. Yet. Perhaps he'd been told of his colleague's fate and didn't dare enter as long as Kankurou had a tray full of ammunition. However, if they were gathering, they would come. Probably in force.

With a growl of annoyance he descended upon the breakfast like a vulture on a carcass.

The nurse feebly told him that he should slow down or he'd choke on something but after he sent her a glare she snorted and left him in peace. A different nurse, one that resembled a sumo-wrestler with a red top bun, came to collect the tray and when she waddled her way into the room she gave him a critical once over.

"What?" he snapped, shoving the last pieces of potatoes into his mouth.

"You need to be showered." The woman said, sounding as if she was talking about watering her plants, and Kankurou promptly choked on his food. A large hand smacked him on the back, forcefully enough to leave a bruise he was sure, until he irritably waved the woman away.

"No one is showering me." He managed eventually.

"Considering the fact that you've not suffered any injuries that in any way hinder your movements, I could allow you to handle it on your own." The woman said.

"No. No way!" Kankurou exclaimed. "There's no way I'm taking a shower like this!"

"And why is that?"

"I have female parts!" He growled, and the reddening of his cheeks was because of anger and nothing else. When she gave him a blank look, he added: "I'm not supposed to have female parts, damn it!"

"Well you got them now, don't you? And those 'female parts' needs to be cleaned every once in a while." The whale of a woman said. "You, young man, is beginning to reek and no patient of mine will smell like the bottom of a latrine. Either you get your bottom into that shower and wash up or I'll be forced to give you a sponge-bath."

The woman looked like she'd do it too and Kankurou suspected that unless he resorted to using chakra she'd have him tied up and sponged in no time. Damn it all.

He protested some more – very loudly – but by the time she showed him to the nearby shower-room he suspected that she'd known she'd won the argument long before. After all she hadn't reached for any sponges even once. He sent her a resentful glare before closing the door forcefully only to realise that he couldn't find the lock.

"Oi! Where's the damn lock!" He hollered through the door.

"This is a hospital, Mr Sabaku. There are no locks on these doors. We need to be able to reach any patient anywhere if the need arise." Came the, to his ears, smug reply and he cussed. It was a long tirade of both Japanese and English expletives that would've made that bat McGonagall send him to detention for a week.

"For a foreigner you have a decent grasp on the less respectable part of our language, Mr Sabaku. Now go on and take that shower before I go collect the sponges." Came the reply.

"What if someone walks in? I'm not going to run around in the nude because you people don't believe in having damn locks on your damn doors!" he exclaimed and kicked the door in anger.

In an instant the door swung open and the meaty woman's meaty face glare in on him. "I'm standing right here, young man. I'm what is standing between you and total exposure. Do you believe I can't keep some nurse from sneaking inside to take a peek at your nubile flesh?"

Kankurou glared back, fingers twitching with the need to snare the woman up in some nice hearty chakra strings and just make a run for it. Damn it, it was useless.

"I believe you could stop a damn… damn dragon on a damn rampage." He muttered and was surprised when she smiled at him.

"That's lovely. Now go on." She said and closed the door firmly. "And don't kick the door again or next time it will be the sponges."

Kankurou was left staring that the closed door, wondering how the heck she'd managed to not only not be insulted but even seemed to think he'd paid her a compliment. He was tempted to point out that he'd meant that she was so heavy, so ugly and so damn off putting that even one of those stupid dragons would make a halt in front of her, but thought better of it. Resignedly he decided that it was simply time to throw in the towel.

Turning around he faced the shower. This only made him acutely aware of his other problem. To get a shower he needed to take off his clothes, which meant that he'd see… well, the girly parts. Alright, so he was fourteen already and, yes, he did notice girls and was curious and all of those things. But he'd hoped that the first girl he ever really saw naked wouldn't be him.

"Damn it all." He muttered and began to undress. Silently he vowed that Naruto was going to pay dearly for this. Dearly and painfully.

He was silent when the nurse walked him back through the corridors to his room and she didn't comment more than to nod at him in satisfaction once he'd opened the door. He was… contemplating things. Well, actually his mind was sort of blank and he was feeling… embarrassed. As if he'd peeked something he shouldn't, which was just plain stupid because… well… it was his body… only it was the wrong one and… no… no… Kankurou came to the conclusion that he now understood it when people proclaimed that they needed a drink. For some reason some part of his mind stubbornly clung to the idea that if only he could have a drink everything would be alright in the world again.

He glanced up at the meaty jailor, and figured that there was no way in hell that she'd allow that.

"It appears you have company, Mr Sabaku." The nurse told him and it took him a moment to actually register what she said.

"What?" He looked past her into his room, eyes quickly finding Temari and Gaara, then that hag McGonagall gathered in there.

"Are you blushing?" Was the first thing out of his sister's mouth. No, hello or how are you feeling, or… and now she was smirking at him. "You're wet. Don't tell me you've bathed like that. Were you peeking?"

Why couldn't he have had another one like Gaara instead of Temari for a sister? Sure, a little bro demon container was bad news but at least he kept his trap shut.

"Peeking at what?" For whatever reason Gaara chose that moment to discover the use of words.

"Shut up." Kankurou finally managed gruffly. It didn't come out sounding half as threatening as he'd wished but rather strangled, as if his throat had closed up around his tongue. "It's my damn body. And I wasn't…" Damn it, he was blushing again, he realised and finished with an angry hiss: "… peeking!"

Temari only smirked. Gaara glared and frowned when no one seemed inclined to answer his question. Kankurou sent them both a sour look.

"Well then, shall we get on with it?" McGonagall interrupted briskly. He nearly expected her to clap her hands together to further emphasise but she didn't.

"Get on with what?" He muttered and sat down heavily on the bed.

"While you've been lazing around in bed we've been doing some real work." Temari said and he glared at her. Lazing around? He'd been prodded and poked at; and examined and re-examined so much he felt like… he couldn't even think of a metaphor. Not even animals were treated like he had been and if at any place they were he might just rush off to free them once his own problem was solved.

"Mr Uzumaki has demonstrated his… unique spell to us, Mr Sabaku, and in essence we now believe that with my aid we can reverse what has happened to you. And I also believe this conversation is one best kept beyond that of curious ears." McGonagall clarified and after casting some type of spell she continued: "This shakra Mr Uzumaki mixed into the spell is what appears to make it withstand the usual manners of being reversed. "

"Yeah, yeah." Kankurou replied tiredly, resting his arms on his knees. "So can you fix it?"

"Naruto showed us the spell." Gaara replied. "Temari and Professor McGonagall can break it."

Kankurou smiled. He didn't ask why Gaara was even there if he wasn't going to help. That he came at all said all that Kankurou needed to know.

"Well let's get to it then!" He exclaimed, flopping down on the bed. "Work your damn magic and make me a man again!"

He saw Temari shaking her head at him, doing that my-brother-is-an-idiot expression that she had down pat, and then they got to work.

Hell yeah! Kankurou had to fight down the urge to do a silly little victory dance in the middle of the room when he could finally look into the mirror and find his own, manly face staring back at him.

"No offence, dear, but I rather preferred the previous visage." Said the golden gargoyle carved into the mirror frame and Temari snickered behind him.

"Bah, well you obviously have no sense of style." Kankurou remarked, silently wondering when exactly he'd grown so used to talking furniture that it didn't bother him anymore. Turning away from the gargoyle he looked at his siblings, both of whom were watching him back. "Let's get the hell out of here."

"We have to wait for the Professor before we move out." Temari replied. "These magic folk got all sorts of regulations and stuff that they've got to follow."

Kankurou snorted, impatient to get a move on and get as far away from this place as possible. He looked up when the door opened and McGonagall stepped inside, she was followed by a rather harassed looking medi-wizard.

"So can we leave now?" Kankurou asked, already looking to see which one of those two had his shoes and travelling clothes. They'd taken them when he'd first arrived at St Mungos but now that it was finally time to get the heck out of there-

"Ah, unfortunately that will have to wait a little while longer yet, Mr Sabaku." The harassed looking man said.

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" He exclaimed in frustration. He just wanted to leave this damned place, was that too much to ask?

"It means, Mr Sabaku, that while your siblings and I return to Hogwarts, you will have to remain here for another night." McGonagall replied stiffly. "And do watch your language if you please."

"I don't please." Kankurou said and he noticed Temari sighing – probably about how stupid he was being. "You people sent me here to get better, now I'm better and I want to leave, damn it!"

"Yes, yes, but you must understand-"The frazzled man began only to be interrupted by McGonagall.

"Mr Sabaku, while I am sympathetic to your plight I will not condone this incessant, stubborn behaviour on your part. You're a student of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry and I expect all of my students to be on their best behaviour at all times." He almost expected her to start wagging a finger under his nose but she only stood taller and straighter while lecturing him, staring down at him like a ruffled hawk on what she perceived to be a mouse. "Now, you will remain here, in the care of the medi-witches for another night so they might ascertain that none of what I did to break this errant spell has left any long lasting damages on your person. Tomorrow someone shall come and bring you back to Hogwarts."

"Stay, Kankurou." Gaara broke in, coming to stand beside him. He glanced up at Kankurou with that deadpan look of his before closing his eyes and frowning.

"You have to stay, Kankurou. These people do things differently from us and we have to follow their rules." Temari added. "Besides McGonagall took a huge risk breaking that spell without the consent of these medi-witches so you owe it to her to not make this any more difficult than it has to be. So stop being an ass and just do as they tell you."

In his heart of heart Kankurou wanted to argue but he did recognise a lost battle when he saw one, so with a muttered cuss – in Japanese – he muttered a: "Fine."

His siblings and the Gryffindor-hag left not soon after and once they were out the door his room was swarmed by the congregation of 'experts' he'd chased out of there the day previous. He resigned himself to their poking and prodding and half-arsed questions and theories once more – telling himself to wait just one more day.

In the end he chased them out only an hour later when one of the potioneers decided to stab him in the arm with a syringe to take a look at his blood. The idiot didn't appear to have any working knowledge as to how to work the damn thing – from what he caught it was considered a muggle contraption – and just pushed it into his arm without warning or care. He even had the audacity to look offended when Kankurou yelled and snatched the needle away from him, throwing it into a wall. Yelling cusses at their retreating backs when he chased them out of the room, all the while rubbing his aching arm, he thought he heard the potioneer muttering something about 'that's not the way they behaved on that muggle telly thing.'

Kankurou slammed the door shut again. Wizards were not only damn insane, they were downright dangerous, he decided when he heavily fell on his bed and glared at the ceiling with frustration.

Observation. That was what they called it – keeping him here against his will when there obviously was nothing wrong with him. Kidnapping felt more accurate, Kankurou thought bitterly and gingerly began weaving chakra strings. He kept them thin, thin enough which even if they actually were doing any sort of surveillance they'd never see the strings, before cutting them off. Then he made new ones. It was one of the first things they learned once a student committed himself to the art of puppet mastery. For a puppet master the art of making chakra strings was everything, it was the very foundation upon which everything else was built. If he was going to be lying around here all damn day he might as well do something worthwhile.

He continued with holding up his hands, wriggling his fingers while he attempted to both cut and then reattach chakra strings to each other – a much more difficult piece of training and one that he'd not yet managed to master.

Yeah, this'd give those wankers something to observe. Hopefully they'd get as bored as he was and just give it up already.

He'd been at it for a few hours and was starting to develop a headache – a sure sign to cease any further use of chakra for a while. Still he kept at it, trying once more to catch a cut string with a new one, only to once again fail miserably. Frustrated he pushed his hands to the mattress and took a deep breath. He hadn't really been expecting to succeed – catching chakra strings was a very high level skill that only the most skilled puppet masters ever managed but that didn't mean that it wasn't annoying to fail. Continuously.

In theory it didn't seem all that difficult but in practice it was a nightmare. Catching a stray string and reattach it to a new one was like… trying to throw a thread through a needle's eye from fifty metres away. Chiyo's wording, not his.

Of course if he could just do it once – just once! – he knew he could do it again.

With a grunt Kankurou pushed himself up from the bed and padded across the room, and peaking outside he made damn sure that none of those blasted 'experts' were hanging about outside his door. It wasn't as if he was afraid of them or anything but he'd be damned if he'd let them poke any more holes in him anytime soon.

Once satisfied that he wouldn't be attacked as soon as he stepped outside he did so, and casually made his way down the corridor to take a look about the place. He'd spent the past couple of days cooped up and maybe, just maybe, the incarceration was beginning to grate on his nerves a bit. A shinobi was just not meant to be inactive for that long, he figured.

Up until the moment he'd been sent to St Mungo's he'd thought that all of the places in the wizarding world were old and haggard – or as he'd noticed that magic folk preferred to term it "lived in" – but the hospital looked more like the buildings he'd seen in the muggle part of the world. It was clean and very, very white, and just as sterile looking as any hospital back in the Elemental countries.

He sneaked past the nurses' office, having spotted the whale woman inside, and quickly continued down the hall. He already knew that he was currently on the fourth floor – Spell Damage ward – having made very certain to put that piece of information aside when he was first brought in. You never knew when you needed to make a run for it after all. Next to a door a bit further down the hall he found a sign where it was carefully noted in bold letters:

GROUND FLOOR – RECEPTION AND ARTEFACT ACCIDENTS

FIRST FLOOR – CREATURE-INDUCED INJURIES

SECOND FLOOR - MAGICAL BUGS AND DISEASES

THIRD FLOOR – POTIONS AND PLANT POISONING

FOURTH FLOOR – SPELL DAMAGE / JANUS THICKEY WARD

FIFTH FLOOR – VISITOR'S TEAROOM AND HOSPITAL SHOP

Kankurou scratched the back of his head, peering at the sign as he debated where to go. He supposed that the creature-induced injuries could be good for a laugh; people generally had a good story to go with the injury in a place like that he wagered. Better keep a distance from the magical bugs and diseases ward though. There was no way that he'd willingly place himself at risk of catching some sort of magical flu. From what he'd seen of the magical world he'd probably end up burping bats or shitting ducks.

Perhaps he could find a way to truss up Naruto and throw him in there though? If he got real lucky he might even find some sick baby that could lick the little blond bastard, Kankurou thought and grinned at the thought.

Speaking of blonds, he thought as he caught sight of that crazy guy – Gilded something or other – sneaking out of another room. When the blond noticed him he stood tall suddenly, performing a grandiose sort of 'shhh' sign before making a very theatrical parody of sneaking down the hall. Crazy ass bastard...

"Well hello there, my young friend." The blond began babbling as soon as he was within speaking range. Apparently he'd forgotten about the fact that he was trying to be sneaky because he spoke loudly and clearly. "Are you here fishing for an autograph? Oh, what am I saying? Of course you are!"

Gritting his teeth Kankurou grabbed the deranged wizard and, throwing the door open, roughly pushed him through. "Would you keep a damn lid on it?" He hissed as soon as the door closed behind them. "You're going to alert every nurse on the floor if you run around hollering like a damn nutter."

Never mind that he obviously was a damn nutter, Kankurou added snidely.

"Oh, yes of course. This is a hospital, isn't it? Are you injured?" The man asked, looking around the stairwell with wide eyes.

"Not me, but I'm betting you've lost more than your fair share of marbles somewhere." Kankurou muttered, wondering how immoral it would be of him to just knock the fool out. With his luck the hag of Gryffindor would come charging through the door the moment he did and then lecture him on proper behaviour for the remainder of his days.

The blond blinked at him before smiling that dazzling smile. "I suppose you want my autograph now then. Surely if you're not injured you must be a fan that has come to-"

"I don't want your damn autograph." Kankurou snapped and when he heard a commotion outside the door quickly made a sign for the other man to keep his mouth shut.

The blond nodded quickly, making a zipping up motion in front of his mouth while Kankurou pushed open the door to take a look at what was going on.

He caught a sight of a small squadron of medi-wizards and witches escorting a man with shallow skin. The man was making a sort of 'shuuu' sound and when they got closer Kankurou let the door slip shut again.

Sending his unwanted partner in crime another glare he made certain that the other man would stay quiet before once again pushing it open. By then the whole procession had passed the door and was continuing down the hall.

"I think… I think that he is under the impression that he's a teapot." A man's voice said. He sounded worried. For good reason, Kankurou figured, because he couldn't imagine that believing that you were a teapot would be very pleasant.

"It would be a plausible explanation for his behaviour." Another voice, also male, agreed. "Could you tell me what exactly prompted this, Mr Weasley?"

"I'm sorry, I-"

"Mr Bode works in a classified part of the Ministry." Yet another voice broke in. this one was stern and firm. "Unfortunately there was no one else around when the accident occurred but we believe that Mr Bode came in contact with an object surrounded with a magical ward."

"We will need to know more details than that, Auror Shacklebolt, if we are to have any hope of helping your colleague. We need to know the specific ward and-"

"I will speak to the minister himself first thing in the morning."

"See that you do." The second man replied sternly and then sighed. "Meanwhile I believe that it is safe to say that you might as well leave. There really is little either of you can do for him at this time."

Apparently that was the end of that conversation because there was a pause before anyone spoke again.

"Arthur, may I speak with you, please?"

"This is not a very safe location."

"The stairs."

Kankurou cussed inwardly, quickly grabbing a hold of the blond fool and pushing him up the stairs until they were safely hidden from view. As soon as they were, he heard the door open and close. He made a shushing sign to the blond man again – just in case the idiot had forgotten and said idiot smiled brightly at him. As if everything was right in the world.

"This was not an accident." The more stern sounding man said, and hearing that Kankurou pricked his ears. Now this could be valuable information.

"Do you believe that it was… You-Know-Who?" the other replied. He didn't sound scared, only resigned. Serious.

"More likely one of his Death Eaters. They probably had him under the Imperius. Broderick had worked in the Department of Mysteries for far too long to make a mistake like this, and you know that he's never been one to treat his work with anything but outmost care."

The other man must've agreed because he sighed. "We already know that You-Know-Who has eyes and ears in the Ministry. The question is how many and who. And what were they after? We need to speak with Dumbledore about this."

"Yes. I will make inquiries as to the whereabouts of our known collaborators but you and I both know that pinning one of them down with this will most likely be doomed to fail. They would all have made certain to have alibis. Unless of course Broderick was one of them from the beginning."

"No." the previously weaker sounding voice –a Weasley, like that Ron guy – was strong now. "I cannot believe that Broderick would be a Death Eater, or even a collaborator."

"We cannot rule anything out. Until this is finished everyone are a suspect."

"You're beginning to sound like Moody, Kingsley." Weasley replied, sounding tiredly amused.

"Perhaps we all need to sound a tad more like Moody." The other man replied and they left the stairs again.

Huh, who'd have guessed, Kankurou thought cynically. Magic folk actually preparing for the oncoming war.

"This is dark times." Kankurou had nearly forgotten about his unwanted companion until the blond suddenly spoke, for some reason sounding the sanest he'd ever heard him.

"Yeah well," Kankurou muttered distractedly, trying to go through all of the new information he'd collected and trying to piece it together with what he already knew of this You-Know-Who business. He was vaguely aware of the other man scribbling something down on that pad of paper he kept hidden in those robes of his. "That's the way of the world."

"Indeed it is, indeed it is." The blond agreed sagely. "Now," the man said and tore off a paper from the pad with a flourish. "Here's your heart's one true desire – one beautifully penned autograph from none other than the magnificent Gilderoy Lockhart!"

Kankurou glared at the offending paper, at the offending hand and the cheerily offending man. He wanted to shove the damn paper down the man's throat, he really did. Only the vague memory of schooling in proper etiquette he'd received from his mother long ago stilled his hand – you couldn't manhandle crazy people after all. So Kankurou took the paper and sighed heavily.

Perhaps the idiot would shut his mouth about it now.

"Damn."

That was the first thing out of Kankurou's mouth when the door to his room opened in the morning.

"Good morning to you as well, Mr Sabaku." The withered old witch – commonly known as Professor McGonagall – said and arched an eyebrow at him in a pointed manner. "I'm happy to note that the healers has found nothing that suggest any lasting damage to your person, however your tongue still need a scrubbing."

Of course Hogwarts couldn't have sent someone else to 'escort' him back to school, could they?

The trip with his personal babysitter was if not pleasant at least quick. McGonagall didn't waste any time in getting him discharged, getting him his clothes and ushering him into a fireplace.

Floo-powder sure had its advantages, Kankurou decided as he climbed out of the fireplace. Not the tidiest way of travel though, he thought while he brushed soot off his clothes.

"Come along, Mr Sabaku." The wicked witch ordered and swept past him. The way she halted by the door, turning her head and arching an eyebrow told him that she expected to be obeyed. Damn hag.

Reluctantly following her they ascended a narrow stairway and into a tavern where the professor exchanged quick greetings with a pretty and nicely curved woman behind the counter before hurrying him along outside.

It was raining heavily and he stopped for a moment inside the tavern to glare up at the cloudy skies and then at the muddy ground. He remembered when he was a child and Temari told him that rain was the gods emptying their toilet – of course it'd been during the brief rain period in Suna when she'd said that and it'd taken uncle Yashamaru and his father a week to get him to leave the house again.

Shaking his head at the memory he ended up smirking because, really, it was a nice enough memory.

"Oi, is it always this miserable around here?" Kankurou asked, finally stepping outside and into the rain, closing the tavern's door behind him. His feet sank into the mud and made a squishing sound when he followed McGonagall down the street. Looking around he saw several other little houses scattered about the area, making this a small town he supposed, but unlike himself and the hag of Gryffindor the inhabitants had the good sense to stay out of this weather. In the distance, behind a forest, he could see Hogwarts.

"I think I can safely say it will become much more miserable than this once winter comes." McGonagall replied, leading him out of the town and along a narrow road that seemed to lead to the castle. Thinking about how the weather would become worse than it already was he muttered a Japanese cuss, and because the mud was slippery he used chakra to anchor himself to the ground more securely while he walked. "I thought I told you to watch your language, Mr Sabaku."

"How the hell did you know what I said?" He blurted out, stopping on the sodden ground and staring at her.

"I may not speak your language but I've become adept at recognising your tone of voice." She snapped back without stopping.

Great.

He was just about to hurry after her when… he thought he could feel someone watching him. Standing very still he cautiously looked around at the surrounding trees, trying to find the source. He didn't have any luck. The forests and hills appeared as deserted as ever.

An ambush?

Perhaps. But from where? And who would they be aiming for, him or the hag?

"Mr Sabaku!"

The moment that McGonagall's cry sounded and he turned her way the feeling of being watched was gone. It was almost enough for him to brush it off as his imagination playing tricks – which given the influence that magic seemed to have on his senses might actually be the case. Still he'd have to speak to the others about this.

"Move those feet of yours. I don't fancy catching my death out here." McGonagall called.

Yeah, neither did he.

He kept an eye on the trees for the rest of the walk, cautiously searching for that chakra again but not finding it. Perhaps it was only the magic of this place that was turning his senses against him after all, he thought as he stepped into the Great Hall. Breakfast was served and most of the other students were already seated, stuffing their faces and chatting, but when they saw him there was a distinct shift in the dynamic of the groups. Abruptly there was a lot of elbowing, whispering and sniggering involved. He pushed aside the urge to smack the whole lot of them over their stupid heads, shifted into a challenging pose and barked: "What? Haven't you ever seen a man before?"

This was followed by more sniggering but at least this time it quickly lessened when the brats realised that he was no more inclined to any type of bullying than before his venture into womanhood. Damn that Naruto. When he put his hands around that blonde's scrawny little neck…

Gah!

Too much! It's too much!

Not for the first time that night Naruto banged his head down on the unsuspecting Potion book and groaned.

"Hey, Naruto?" Neville asked from where he was sitting on his own bed.

"Yeah?" he muttered, head still buried in the book. There was a small pause, then:

"Er… are you alright, mate?" Seamus asked, peering at him from behind his transfigurations textbook. Naruto looked at him with every ounce of misery plain on his face.

"I don't think he understood. Try simpler words." Neville said with an uncertain little smile. In actuality Naruto understood them fine, perfectly really, but they were not supposed to know that.

Sitting back up Naruto decided that he'd have to make do with body language so he pointed at the magically translated book with exasperation and then threw his arms out with frustration. "Potion bad!"

"You said it, mate." Seamus agreed wholeheartedly. "Bloody Snape's always heaping loads of homework at us. It's the only way he can get his jollies I wager. It's not as if we'll actually use this stuff in real life. Best get used to it though 'cause the old bat's not going to let up."

Sighing Naruto glared down at his book. There was no way he'd be able to get this homework done until tomorrow! There was just no way! And what the heck was an ocaline stone anyway?

Then an idea suddenly struck him and he looked up at his two friends with renewed hope.

"Help?"

"Sorry, man, I haven't done mine and I've still got to do McGonagall's homework too." Seamus said, shaking his head.

"I'm… I'm not very good at potions." Neville murmured, blushing. "Perhaps you could ask Hermione?"

Seamus snorted. "She'll never let him copy her homework. She's all kind of stingy about that. Won't even help out Ron and Harry from what I hear."

"I guess." Neville agreed solemnly. "Sorry Naruto."

"I guess you can't ask Temari either. She's been mighty brassed off at you since you did that spell on her brother." Seamus said, and then he grinned. "Bloody brilliant that was."

Naruto snickered along. Although what he'd done had been in the line of duty it had been one of the best pranks he'd ever pulled. Magic sure had its advantages; he never would've been able to pull something like that of with a jutsu.

"Speaking of…" Seamus said, setting down his book. "How come you're not… you know, covered in bruises or walking funny? I'd have thought that Kankyro guy would've at least hexed you to kingdom come by now."

Naruto snorted. As if I'd let him, he thought. That stupid bat-brain didn't stand a chance against him – he could use his rasengan to smash his stupid puppets into kindling and then he could kick Kankurou's ass. He was way faster and better at hand-to-hand combat than some puppet master, after all. Not that he could say any of that so he settled for: "I too fast."

"So you ran away?" Seamus asked.

"No!" Naruto barked, sitting up ramrod straight.

"Hey, mate, I don't blame you, that guy looks like he's got a nasty temper and he's kind of…" Seamus faltered, gesturing idly with one hand.

"Scary." Neville filled in.

"Not scary." Seamus disagreed quickly. "Just… you know… I wouldn't want to be on his shit-list, is all."

"Scary." Neville concluded.

While the other two occupants in the room began discussing the possible scariness of Kankurou Sabaku, Naruto ended up on the out. They were talking fast now and his poor English didn't stand a chance of interrupting the rapid flow of words. Naruto sighed, fingering the potion homework without any real hope of being able to finish it.

"…and let's face it, I wouldn't want to get into a fight with Temari either. " Seamus was saying. "Or that redhead Slytherin. Lavender said she saw him looking at Peeves and the little bastard went flying away screaming – Peeves not the redhead. There's something off about him."

"Uhm… are you sure? I just mean… Lavender gossips a lot." Neville said uncertainly.

"Gaara!" Naruto exclaimed loudly, suddenly having the brightest idea ever. Gaara didn't sleep so he must've already done the potion homework days ago and he always seemed to get this potion stuff.

"What's that?" Seamus asked, peering at him doubtfully.

"That redheaded Slytherin?" Neville asked at the same time.

"What about him?" Seamus asked, and then, probably because he remembered that Naruto was Gaara's friend, added: "I wasn't trying to be mean or anything. I was just retelling what Lavender said about him."

"Gaara." Naruto repeated, shaking his head and pointing excitedly at his book. "Knows."

"Wait. You're going to ask him to help you?" Seamus looked positively mortified while Naruto bounced out of bed, book in hand. "But he's a Slytherin."

Naruto halted just as he was on his way out the door. People kept telling him that, as if being in Slytherin somehow meant something. It was the kind of thing he'd been hearing his whole life and it just made him so…

Turning around he glared at the taller boy.

"Gaara." He proclaimed stoically. "My. Friend."

Seamus looked a little taken aback for a moment. "Yeah. Yeah, alright, mate."

After giving Seamus one last glare, just to make sure that the message sunk in, he stepped out into the corridor and slammed the door.

It was perhaps one of those pointless battles people kept warning him about and that he had a knack for encountering. The hatred between Gryffindor and Slytherin was deeply rooted and both houses seemed determined to think the worst of the other. So maybe he couldn't change that but that didn't mean he'd let it change him, or make him not defend his friends. Besides, he thought while he walked down the stairs to the common-room, a maybe wasn't a never.

"-STOP LAUGHING!"

Naruto instinctively flattened himself against the wall when he was abruptly smacked back into stealthy shinobi mode by the loud yell. What the heck was that all about? Heh, he probably looked silly standing around like this, he decided and relaxed. Slowly sneaking down the rest of the stairs he peeked into the common-room and caught sight of three people milling around.

"You don't know what it's like! You – neither of you- you've never had to face him, have you?" Harry, because he was the one who'd been yelling, continued heatedly. "You think it's just memorising a bunch of spells and throwing them at him, like you're in class or something? The whole time you're sure you know there's nothing between you and dying except your own – your own brain and guts or whatever – like you can think straight when you know you're about a nanosecond from being murdered, or tortured, or watching your friend die- they've never taught us that in their classes, what it's like to deal with things like that- and you two sit there acting like I'm a clever little boy to be standing here, alive, like Diggory was stupid, like he was messed up- you just don't get it, that could just as easily have been me, it would've been if Voldemort hadn't needed me-"

Naruto frowned. He knew that feeling. Every shinobi knew and understood that feeling.

"We weren't saying anything like that, mate," Ron protested. "We weren't having a go at Diggory, we didn't – you've got the wrong end of the-" the redhead cut himself off. Perhaps he didn't know what else to say.

"Harry," Hermione cut in softly. "don't you see? This… this is exactly why we need you… we need to know what's it r-really like… facing him… facing V-Voldemort."

Harry paused and for a few moments no one said a thing. With a sigh the black haired boy slouched down in a chair and the three friends just stared back and forth between each other. Harry was silently clenching and unclenching his hand where the words that the toad woman forced him to write were deeply engraved. Naruto rubbed the spot on the back of his own hand, remembering that feeling too, and feeling a little guilty about Dumbledore having reassigned his detention to Filch. Dumbledore had said he didn't want either of the shinobi to place themselves too close to the toad lady because – well it had been something about her being from the Ministry of Magic.

"Well… just think about it." Hermione said quietly. "Please?"

Slowly Harry nodded and Hermione walked into the girl's dormitory.

Moments later Ron followed her example and began to walk towards were Naruto was hiding. Deciding that this was the kind of conversation that they wouldn't have wanted anyone to overhear Naruto quickly jumped straight up and attached himself to the ceiling with chakra. It wasn't high or anything but he hoped that in the gloom of night they wouldn't notice him there.

He watched Ron pass under him in silence and soon Harry followed, breathing out a relieved sigh he jumped back down and thought this new development over. Maybe the fight hadn't been about anything important but something, an instinct, told him otherwise. Oh yeah, this was definitely the kind of thing he should report back to the others.

Wait… the others… there was something he was going to…

"Crap! Gaara!"

Rushing out of the common-room he hoped that his friend hadn't already hid behind the closed doors of the Slytherin dorms.

"Come on Gaara… don't leave your buddy hanging…"

Author's notes: Hm, I'm feeling better about this chapter than the previous one. Thankfully. I think it might have something to do with how much joy I take in writing from Kankurou's POV – he's a funny guy. In a snide and slightly embittered kind of way.

Hopefully it's pretty clear about where into the story it's taking place – and since I assume everyone is up to speed with Harry Potter I'll just make it even clearer by writing it down without adding any SPOILER ALERT: Umbridge has just become High Inquisitor, Voldemort is trying to get the prophesy and Harry and gang is sort of starting to plan doing the whole Dumbledore's Army thing.

Also Naruto is trying desperately not to fail potions.

I might as well add that I suspect that the next chapter will be delayed – haven't even begun writing it yet. I usually have a lot of the next one written before posting but I just haven't had the time.

So, I hope you'll like this chapter and forgive me if the next takes a bit of time before it's completed. Review please! I always love to hear your thoughts.