Summary: The war in the Wizarding world escalates when Voldemort acquires an ancient and mysterious magic. But the walls between their world and the Shadow Realm are beginning to thin, and the stakes raise higher than anyone imagined...
This takes place after the OotP in the Harry Potter universe, and sometime after the Battle City Arc in Yu-gi-oh. I will be taking a few creative liberties, especially with for Yu-gi-oh in order to make them mesh a bit more. These will become obvious later on, though I don't expect them to bother anyone (hopefully).
Disclaimer: Yu-gi-oh belongs to Kazuki Takahashi, and Harry Potter to J. K. Rowling. As much as I wish otherwise, I am only playing with someone else's toys.
No one in the room dared even to breathe. Every eye was transfixed on the pale figure, reclining in the armchair facing the crackling hearth. What appeared to be a heap
of robes, betrayed only by an occasional twitch or shudder, lay prone before the fireplace. The figure shifted, inspecting an open chest at his feet.
"I had thought my instructions had been clear, Avery."
Avery's prostrate form flinched.
"It was my assumption," Voldemort continued smoothly, "that stealing a bit of paper from a muggle would be a simple matter for one of my Death Eaters."
The trembling heap released a broken sob.
"So it puzzles me that, after I explicitly sent you to Egypt to steal a scroll of spells, you return with no scroll, no spells, and this... trinket." Voldemort overturned the chest at his feet suddenly. Gold glinted as something flew out, rolling across the floor.
"Please, my Lord!" Avery cried out. "The muggle had no scroll, nor any knowledge of it. But- but this," he said, scrambling for the discarded item. "This is an artifact of great dark magic. It is said to grant its bearer the power of the shadows-"
"I imagine the muggle told you that?"
Avery froze, terrible realization creeping over his face. "I... My Lord-"
"Crucio."
Voldemort watched apathetically as the Death Eater writhed and shrieked. "I must admit, Avery, you're idiocy in this venture exceeds even my greatest expectations. Still..." He lifted the curse, turning to summon the fallen trinket. Turning it over in his hands, he examined it more closely. It was a gold amulet, clearly ancient, with a strange creature engraved on one face. There was a definite imprint of magic, but nothing to suggest it was more that an ancient charm. "A trinket after all, then," he murmured quietly. "How unfortunate, Avery."
"My Lord, please-"
Voldemort stood, raising his wand. "Avada-"
He broke off. Something had shifted in the atmosphere of the room, trailing along the edge of his senses. He stepped back, eyes searching the shadows. The Death Eaters, silent during the previous exchange, stirred nervously now. Avery scrambled to his feet, retreating into the circle. Voldemort ignored him.
Several people gasped. Someone screamed. Voldemort stiffened, raising his wand once more. The shadows were moving. Flowing and twisting, they pooled before the fireplace, in the space Avery had recently occupied. Gradually the shadows gained form, shifting and churning, until a humanoid silhouette knelt before the Dark Lord. Slowly, it raised its featureless face.
"You have summoned me, Master?"
Voldemort stared in shock, crimson eyes wide. Then his lips curved in a slow smile, and his eyes glinted madly. "Well, well..."
.
.
.
A/N: ...I think I had a little too much fun writing the sociopath.