Welcome to the first chapter of A Nightmare in Red! This is a sequel to Somewhere in the Grey, which is a 4 year old 225k+ story that has been linked on my profile. It has cringeworthy moments but isn't a… complete train wreck, so I would recommend you read it first! If you don't want to, you can also find a synopsis on my profile which will cover the entire plot as succinctly as I could make it for a fic that long.

Thanks for reading!

The smell of warm sugar and chocolate rose through the suburban house on Number 4 Privet Drive.

Harry sat up in his bed with a frown, hair a mess. He grabbed his glasses from the nightstand.

The decrepit alarm clock beside his bed showed it was only seven AM, too early for his aunt to be baking, surely… He dragged himself blearily to his feet, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. It hadn't been the smell that had awoken him, so what had, he wondered?

A staccato tapping on the window caught his attention. Beyond the glass, a snowy owl and a tawny horned owl had perched just outside. The tawny had a pouch and a newspaper: The Daily Prophet.

He tripped over the messy floor and hurried to unlatch the window, letting Hedwig flutter inside. She settled on her perch inside the cage, the door standing open. The horned owl stayed outside, but stuck its leg out. Harry hurried to pay the bird and take the newspaper from its leg.

He closed the window behind him, unfurling the newspaper as he turned around. More of the same, just like every one of the other Daily Prophets which littered the floor, the desk, and had been shredded and thrown in the bottom of Hedwig's cage.

The uproar in the papers hadn't abated since that day only a couple of weeks ago, when Voldemort had returned. It dominated the front pages and threw the Ministry of Magic into chaos. And it didn't help that Ryou had also thrown a wrench into the works.

Harry still remembered the scene as vividly as the moment it had happened, his head splitting in pain, incapacitating him, as Voldemort turned on Ryou. Wandless and defenseless, Ryou had done something Harry had never seen before: throw up a wall of purest darkness, as though the shadows from the floor had been given thickness and form.

Even more unbelievable, the shield had held, defending Ryou from spell after spell from Voldemort himself. Just before it could shatter, Bakura had appeared and it strengthened, protecting them until Dumbledore could arrive.

The pair summoned monsters from thin air, or maybe the same dark stuff which made up the shield. A skeletal swordsman had charged forward to fight. A wispy winged woman helped Ryou to his feet and made Harry's head hurt less after being taken over.

It didn't make sense! The papers tried to understand how something like this could have happened. How magic like this could have gone unnoticed for thousands of years. People were afraid, and Harry couldn't blame them.

No one really knew how many people could use something like this, or even knew about it before this year. They didn't know how powerful it was. Clearly it was something with the potential to be much stronger than wizard magic, working in a way not entirely dissimilar to a dementor's kiss.

It was good PR when Ryou showed it was possible to return the souls taken from several of the Death Eaters to their bodies in a way dementors couldn't, but it only made the public more afraid. This was a power in the hands of a pair of people barely of age.

It was common knowledge that Ryou went to school for a year before this knowledge got out. That Dumbledore had known. He had kept Bakura a secret, and he had kept this great and terrible dark power a secret. Would it be used for evil, people wondered?

Some people didn't care that Ryou had fought against Voldemort. They only saw fear, that there was the potential for great harm to everyone if something happened. They were worried.

All manner of research was done, or at least attempted, but the Ishtars, the only other known practitioners, had hidden themselves away nowhere to be found. So the only information to be had was assumptions and the hearsay of old legends. They were lost, and they were scared.

Harry threw the newest paper aside. There wasn't anything of interest in it anyway. Just more panic and more fear.

Downstairs, Aunt Petunia was baking cookies. He kept to the stairwell, listening with a frown.

"-taken in a foreign exchange student," she said.

"Mrs. Figg? That doesn't sound like her," Harry's uncle commented. There was a sound like ruffling paper as he rearranged his newspaper. "She doesn't have relatives outside of the country, does she?"

"Not as far as I know," Petunia replied. An egg timer rang. The oven opened and a whiff of chocolate filled the air. "Holiday's only just started. Are they going to school here this year?"

Typical. Nosy Aunt Petunia was baking as an excuse to visit their neighbor. Harry wasn't surprised anymore by the lengths his relatives went to nose into their neighbor's business.

They left for Mrs. Figgs only a few minutes later. Dudley was with his gang roaming the neighborhood. Harry ate a bowl of cereal in peace and returned to his room to read over the paper.

Summers always were boring.

Harry thought nothing of his relatives and their usual shenanigans until his aunt and uncle finally returned, this time without the plate of cookies. They were whispering as they walked through the door. Harry could just make out their furious mutters if he stepped out of his room.

"Wearing a suit of all things, so formal!" Petunia said. "Very polite and cordial."

"Impressive English, too. If it wasn't for the name, I'd think he was from around here," Vernon said.

"But what was that hair color? He must dye it," she replied.

Harry frowned. It couldn't be…

Summers in England were slightly cooler than those back in Japan. It was a bit of a nice change.

Ryou kicked his feet up a little and watched them drag back along the dusty ground. His momentum carried him slightly forward, and then back once more. He curled his fingers tighter around the chainlinks that made up the swing.

"This is nice," he murmured.

It was the perfect sort of day to sit outside. The park may have been a bit decrepit. Only one of the swings remained. The others were broken beyond use, the chains separated from split plasticine seats. But it wasn't so bad.

The wind was cool on his skin and smelled like the magnolia trees which lined the roads. He lifted his head and smiled at the sky.

/Having fun?/ Bakura asked over the mind link.

/Mmm, yes. Helps take the edge off a bit.../

Ryou's eyes were still slightly red and stinging, but most of the edge was gone. At least the graves were decorated now, strewn with all of his mother and sister's favorite flowers.

He even had cookies waiting back at Mrs. Figg's.

There was distant laughter, and Ryou's mind fell back to earth. A group of boys around Harry's age were walking around the perimeter of the fenced in park, joking and laughing noisily with each other.

"They must live here," Ryou murmured.

/Trouble.../ Bakura said. The boys circled around and entered the park. The one at the front had a prodigious girth. They grinned and cracked their knuckles as they slowly approached.

"And who's this?" one of the boys said.

"I heard he's the foreign exchange student," another said. They spoke like Ryou wasn't sitting only a few feet away, listening to every word they said.

Ryou smiled. "Good afternoon. My name is Ryou Bakura. Pleasure to meet you."

/I do not believe they are here for introductions/ Bakura said. Ryou continued to smile.

One swung a baseball bat loosely in his fingers. A subtle, wordless threat. They all did their best to seem visually imposing. "What kind of name is that?" the boy asked.

/He's disrespecting you/ Bakura said. Ryou hummed and kicked his legs up, swinging once more. Bakura appeared just behind the group.

"You don't need to hurt anybody," Ryou said.

One boy grabbed his bat a bit tighter. "You hear that? He thinks he can tell us what we can and can't do!" one said. The others nudged around elbows and had a good laugh about it.

"Oh. I wasn't talking to you," he said. He pointed behind them at Bakura. They turned in time to see Bakura smirk.

Ryou's darker half flicked a butterfly knife casually through his fingers and over his knuckles, turning the little blade end over end with a cold nonchalance.

"So. Who wants to be eviscerated first? Any takers?" Bakura asked in a level tone. Something dark flickered through his eyes that was more terrifying than the spinning blade.

The others took an immediate step closer to Ryou, and away from Bakura. A ripple of fear ran through them.

"He wouldn't use that knife… would he?" the fat one in the front said.

Ryou shrugged. "I can't control him. I've tried."

From the corner of his eyes, he saw Harry coming up from the back. About time. He was beginning to wonder if he'd ever see Harry. He'd been told the boy would be somewhere in this neighborhood, but he never really could remember the exact address. Looks like this made things easy.

"Harry!" he said with a broad smile, waving with his whole arm.

"Ryou, I wondered if I'd see you. Are you the one living with Mrs. Figg?" Harry said. Ryou nodded.

The fat one in the front went pale. "Y-you know each other?"

Harry grinned. "Ryou goes to school with me. And Bakura tags along because administration has no way of stopping him." Harry jabbed a thumb toward Bakura in the back.

Bakura chuckled. "Does that one know?" Harry nodded. Bakura was roaring with laughter now. The gang was now edging further away.

"Hold on, you don't mean…" the fat one said. He waved off the others. "Y-you know, it's not worth it. Let's just get out of here."

Ryou marveled at how quickly the others conceded and retreated. "Are they afraid of magic?" he asked. It seemed the only reasonable explanation for why the gang of bullies had fled so quickly.

Harry shook his head. "No. Only Dudley. But my relatives did tell everyone that I go to St. Brutus' School for Incurably Criminal Boys during the school year," he said with a toothy grin. Bakura couldn't stop laughing.

"Oh, that's rich!" he cackled. "No wonder those shits ran." Ryou smiled a little bit in spite of himself. He was glad that this could be resolved peaceably. He'd rather Bakura not draw knives on people, bullies or otherwise.

Harry leaned against the swingset. "So, what are you doing here? I thought you were going to go home after you left Hogwarts."

"I did go home, at least for a while," Ryou said with slight frown.

Home, and a few other places… His hand clenched slightly. Bakura's expression darkened. Ryou forced an artificial smile onto his face.

"Voldemort is still after me, so I thought it would be smart to keep moving around. And Dumbledore offered to let me stay in England some. Since I grew up not too far from here when I was young, I thought it would be a pleasant change.

"I got to visit my mother and sister, so that was nice." His smile felt a fraction more real. "It's nice here. Very quiet. But the people are a bit nosy."

"Like my relatives?" Harry snorted.

"Those people that dropped by today, they were your relatives?" Ryou said. They hadn't particularly resembled Harry, but then...

"Those awful people?" Bakura scoffed. He vanished and reappeared perched on the top of the swing set, his legs hanging down.

Ryou waved his hands, embarrassed. "Not to mean- I mean, they were lovely people-"

Harry laughed. "No, they're pretty horrible."

"We should mess with them," Bakura said.

Ryou shook his head. "Come on, we're not messing with Harry's family, it isn't nice-"

"Actually, I think it's brilliant," Harry said.

Ryou looked at him cynically. "Really? You want us to mess with them?"

"The Dursleys like things to be nice and normal. Anything beyond that, like foreign exchange students or magic, makes them worry. That's probably why they commented on your English. And they mentioned a suit…?" Harry trailed off.

Ryou nodded. "I was visiting my mother and sister."

"Right…" Harry said, and something softened in his gaze. Losing Sirius must have stung. Ryou knew that particular knife edge better than most.

Ryou started to swing once again, dragging his feet back along the ground with each pass. "What… What would you want to do?" he asked.

Harry blinked and refocused. It seemed to have worked, because the deep, aching sadness seemed to lighten by gradual shades.

"Oh, just unnerve them a bit. Maybe tell them you go to school with me. Of you could just start speaking Japanese to them," Harry added with a grin.

Ryou nodded. "That doesn't sound so bad…"

Bakura chuckled. "If that's all it takes, imagine their reactions if we…" he trailed off with a knowing smile, sending a quick thought over the mind link.

Ryou's hands curled into fists around the chain. "You know I don't wear that kind of thing!" he said with a slight blush. He ducked his head. "And neither do you."

"I could make an exception," Bakura said with a teasing smile. "Mm, but could you?"

Harry looked confused. "I don't think I understand."

"Bakura has some bad ideas that we aren't using," Ryou said pointedly. He reached up and jostled Bakura's foot, halfheartedly attempting to dislodge him from the railing. Bakura grinned.

"Oh, but you'd look so good. Just imagine…" Bakura trailed off, but the flurry of images started to increase in speed. They flashed one behind the other in Ryou's mind, each growing more lewd. Each of the Ryou's had on less clothing than the last, and their poses grew increasingly provocative.

Ryou's face was unbearably warm. "No, bad Bakura," he said, but he was choking on the words. Bakura looked extremely satisfied with himself.

"I meant to ask, but I didn't want to bring it up in front of the others just in case, but…" Harry started, trailing off. Ryou released Bakura's foot and cocked his head.

"Huh? What?" Ryou asked.

"Are you two…? Well, you're not related, I'm assuming. But are you two, er…" Harry made a vague sort of gesture with his hands that seemed to imply some meaning of 'together'.

Bakura burst into laughter which echoed eerily around the little park. Ryou's cheeks somehow managed to grow even warmer. He averted his eyes and suddenly found the ground incredibly interesting.

"You, ahahaha… You noticed, I guess," Ryou said weakly.

"You say that like we were trying to keep it a secret," Bakura said.

"I was!"

Bakura grinned lecherously. "I wasn't."

"So you are?" Harry said.

Bakura dropped to the ground in a low crouch, then straightened. His hands rested by his hips, thumbs hooked in his pockets. He grinned.

"Does this answer your question?" he asked, catching Ryou by the chin. His head bowed, and Ryou wriggled in surprise as Bakura swooped down and kissed him.

"Mmmm, Bakura," Ryou muttered, swinging slightly back. Bakura followed the swing up the arc until he was holding Ryou up off the ground.

"Don't tell me you're embarrassed of us," Bakura said. He had an animal hunger in his eyes. He sighted weakness. He was closing in.

"N-no, of course not-" Ryou sputtered.

"Or that you don't want your little friends to know…" Bakura continued.

"It isn't that at all-"

"Or you're pretending that nothing has changed-"

"Bakura!" Ryou interrupted, grabbing Bakura's face. "That's not it and you know it!" His face was such a deep, brilliant scarlet that it put Harry's red shirt to shame.

He hesitated, then brushed his lips briefly onto Bakura's. At the same time, he impressed a few feelings over the mind link, vague thoughts and emotions and discomfort and soft, fluttering warmth. Bakura sighed.

"Fine, later than," Bakura said simply. He rolled his eyes and stepped aside, still holding Ryou in the air. He moved to the back and gave his light a solid shove, sending him flying forward.

"I haven't stepped on anything touchy, have I?" Harry asked, looking distinctly uncomfortable. Ryou shook his head.

"No, I'm just… Not used to this. Any of it. I'm still adjusting, and it's taking time." He half-smiled and looked back towards Bakura as he swung. "I'm honestly surprised Bakura isn't pushing more."

"Uraeus would likely try to kill me in my sleep," Bakura muttered.

"Exactly," Uraeus added. The emerald serpent stuck his head out from Ryou's shirt collar, where he'd been hiding under the masses of silvery hair. The crystal skull glittered in the sunlight. "I'm alwaysss watching."

"Hello, Uraeus," Harry said with a little wave.

The snake bowed his head briefly in acknowledgement. "Alwaysss."

"That was impressive, what you did to Bellatrix," Harry said. "I didn't know that was possible." Even Ryou didn't understand how the shadows reacted with Uraeus. Somehow, they made him grow from one foot long to as many as three or four, as well as strengthening him enough to constrict Bellatrix and halt her escape.

"Mosssst impossssible thingsss are sssurprissingly posssible. The ssshadowsss, doubly ssso."

Harry nodded.

Ryou flinched. Another of the images of a scantily clad Ryou popped into his head. Despite the costume's relatively tame appearance, this one was the most provocative by far.

He was posed like a centerfold in a pornograpic magazine. A midriff-baring blue top barely covered his chest. Long and loose sleeves fluttered past his fingertips, but his shoulders were bared. The shortest black shorts Ryou had ever seen cut off high on his thigh, exposing long, pale legs and the barely defined muscles just above his groin.

His lips were slightly parted, eyes unfocused, hair debauched, and his pupils were large and round and almost entirely black, ringed only by the barest hint of green.

A dark laughter rumbled quietly over the mindlink. The blush had returned.

"Bakura," Ryou complained.

"Wasn't there something we were talking about earlier?" Bakura asked. It was hard to think. Ryou couldn't seem to remember.

"Oh yeah," Harry said. "Did you still want to come over tomorrow? You don't have to do anything over the top. Just telling them you go to school with me would probably give them a coronary." He laughed.

Ryou smiled. "Sure. They left the plate, so I can throw some cupcakes or something together and return it."

"You don't have to do that," Harry said, but Ryou shook his head.

"I insist. I haven't had the chance to bake all year. I kinda miss it."

Ryou was up late the next morning. Flour was smudged across his face and apron, but the cupcakes only needed a gloss of frosting over the top and they'd finally be finished.

/Bakura, you're allowed back in/ Ryou sent. Bakura had been banished from the kitchen after one too many mental images sent over the mindlink of Ryou in an apron. Just the apron. He'd tried to come back anyway, but promises of licking clean the spoon finally convinced him.

Ryou folded up the apron and put it away right as Bakura appeared. He looked halfway disappointed. Ryou passed him the spoon. "Here, leftover batter. It's all yours." Bakura perked back up again.

"Huh. This place finally smells like something other than cabbage," he commented.

Ryou drew a knife from a drawer and began to spread an even layer of frosting.

"What time are we leaving?" Bakura asked.

"After I eat lunch and get dressed." Bakura grinned. Ryou shook his head. "No way in hell."

"Come on, I'll do it," Bakura said. His clothing rippled and began to darken and change. In a matter of seconds, his clothing had taken on an edgy, distressed sort of look.

In movies, there were certain looking people that good girls didn't bring home to their families unless they wanted to see their parents cry, or for their dad to bring out the shotgun. In the most stereotypical way possible, Bakura looked like that now.

Ryou giggled. It was too much. "You look ridiculous."

"Excellent. I hope I offend their delicate sensibilities in every way."

"You're offending my delicate sensibilities dressed like that," Ryou laughed.

Bakura grinned. "Then I'm succeeding already." Bakura ducked over and swiped a finger through the bowl of frosting, and Ryou rapped his knuckles.

"That's not for you," Ryou said disapprovingly.

"Not yet it isn't," Bakura replied. "Hmm. Not a fan of sugar, but this is pretty tasty."

Ryou smiled and started on the next.

After everything was finished, he arrayed half of the perfectly iced cakes around the freshly washed plate. The smudge on his nose had almost been forgotten during lunch, so he hurriedly cleaned himself up, changed into a clean tee shirt and jeans, and he was finally ready to go. He almost tripped over Mr. Paws on the way down the stairs.

"Ready to go?" he called out.

"Go where?" Mrs. Figg replied.

"Oh, good afternoon Mrs. Figg," Ryou said, pausing in the archway leading to the kitchen. "I hope you don't mind that I used your oven. You're welcome to what's left."

He gestured to the other plate of cupcakes, which ended up being any cake that was anything less than absolutely perfect.

She smiled. "You're a doll, Ryou, thank you. Have fun."

Ryou grabbed the Dursley's plate and headed down the street. The afternoon wasn't unpleasantly warm, thanks to a slight breeze. Ryou hummed to himself as he walked.

Bakura appeared at his back like a ghost, still wearing the ridiculous outfit. His tee shirt now read 'swag' in a grotesque yellow font. His hair was in a wild disarray.

"Would a tattoo frighten them?" Bakura asked, as black ink fluttered down his arm, twisting and weaving into a design rather reminiscent of Diabound and Egyptian hieroglyphics. "Piercings and jewelry?" Gold now glittered in his ears, through his lip, and around his wrists. Black lines darkened around his eyes and smudged like eyeliner.

"Any more and they might not let you through the door," Ryou said, barely containing his laughter.

They approached the door of number 4. Ryou rang the bell. Bakura leaned back around the corner, just out of sight of the doorway.

A horse faced woman in a flowery sundress answered. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Dursley," Ryou said crisply with a smile. "I wanted to return your plate. I hope you enjoy cupcakes."

She smiled at him. "Thank you, why don't you come in for tea?" she said graciously. "Did Mrs. Figg not join you?" There was a slight hint in her voice, as though she was rather glad that Mrs. Figg had not come along, but wouldn't have said a word if she had.

Ryou shook his head. "No, just Bakura."

"Who?" Petunia asked as she stepped back, allowing Ryou inside.

"My friend, Bakura Ishtar," Ryou said with a half smile, still amused by the name. Bakura stepped around the corner with a wave.

"Afternoon," Bakura said, tipping his sunglasses. His red eyes gleamed malevolently over the frames before he replaced them back on his nose. Petunia flinched at the sight of him.

"He… He wasn't, ah-" Petunia sputtered, looking between the two of them.

"Anou, no, he left before I did yesterday. I met him at the cemetery. You didn't get a chance to see him."

"Mrs. Figg didn't mention him yesterday," Petunia said weakly. The horror of this thing stepping through her doorway seemed almost too much to bear. Her face was drawn and pale.

"I don't generally like to be seen," Bakura said in a thickly accented voice. Ryou quirked an eyebrow. He'd never heard that tone of voice before.

Petunia wobbled weakly towards the living room. "T-take a seat, why don't you. I'll- I will-"

"Tea would be lovely," Ryou said gently, and Petunia nodded like a robot. She hurried into the kitchen. Ryou set the plate down on the table at the center of the room.

Bakura flopped onto the couch, drawing Ryou into his lap. Ryou squirmed and finally managed to wriggle away. "Oh no, we're not playing this game again."

Bakura smirked.

Vernon stomped down the stairs and froze as he reached the bottom. Ryou waved. "Good afternoon, Mr. Dursley."

Vernon Dursley's eyes moved right past Ryou, settling into Bakura and widening. He looked back at Ryou, and then back to Bakura. "Petunia!" he called. He vanished into the kitchen, where a barrage of whispers began to roll out.

Bakura looked elated. "Perhaps it's even better you didn't wear anything outrageous. That someone like you could spend time with someone like me… It's blowing their minds."

Ryou shook his shoulder. "Remember, we're doing this for Harry, not for your own amusement."

"Why not both?" Bakura said as Vernon reappeared. He sat in the armchair across from the couch.

"Ryou. Nice to see you again," he said gruffly, pointedly ignoring the swaggering mess that was Bakura.

"I just wanted to return your platter and thank you for such a warm welcome into the neighborhood," Ryou said.

/You are getting remarkably good at bullshitting/ Bakura said. He sat back, grinning, content for the moment to allow Dursley to ignore his existence for now.

Vernon nodded and grabbed one of the cupcakes from the platter. "Did you get these at one of the bakeries nearby or…?"

"Oh no," Ryou said. "I made them. I love to bake. These were made fresh this morning, in fact, to thank you for your hospitality." Vernon paused, scowling, and simply held the cake without unwrapping it. He was caught between disdain and an unwillingness to lose face.

/Laying it on a bit thick there, don't you think? Don't stop. It reminds them that this situation is all their fault for nosing into our business/

Petunia returned with cups of tea. Ryou dropped several cubes of sugar into his. Bakura downed the whole thing without hesitation. Ryou sipped at the tea delicately.

"So, who is your… brother?" Vernon coughed, grasping at straws. He was still pointedly looking away.

"Oh, Bakura isn't my brother. He's from Egypt." Vernon looked doubly confused. "This is delicious by the way," Ryou added, nodding to the pretty china tea cup.

"Thank you," Petunia forced out.

Bakura was positively gleeful. He had watched the uncomfortable nosing of the pair when they had come to visit Mrs. Figg. Ryou had been thrown for a loop and ended up being unfailingly polite in response.

Now the tables had turned.

Ryou chatted pleasantly for a while, just as he had the last time, making perfectly civil small talk as Petunia and Vernon grew increasingly more distressed. Bakura had stood, and while he hadn't done anything more than move slowly around the room, the scrutiny was clearly making their skin crawl.

The tattoo flashed out from under the shirtsleeve, and Petunia visibly withered.

Finally, Harry chose to come downstairs.

"Ryou, you made it," he said with a grin. "And you brought Bakura." The grin widened impossibly as Harry saw what Bakura was wearing. He was on the edge of laughing.

"You- you know each other?!" Vernon said, and his face was slowly purpling.

"Uh, yes," Ryou said. "Harry and I went to school together last year. I'll be going back in the fall."

"You!" Vernon choked on air and Harry stepped toward the table.

Ryou waved for him to take one of the cupcakes, and he did. He unwrapped it and took a bite. "Wow, this is fantastic, Ryou."

"Thanks," Ryou said brightly.

Bakura chuckled softly to himself. In Japanese, he said, "Want to see those two completely lose it?" His eyes flickered to a decorative vase in the corner of the room, then to a painting. "Just reply in Japanese and look around the room."

"You're evil," Ryou said disapprovingly, but also in Japanese.

The reaction was immediate, something between insult and curiosity and horror. It was actually almost comical.

"Don't worry about Bakura," Ryou said to the Dursleys. "He's never nice."

"What did he say?" Vernon snapped. "I demand to know!"

"Oh, ah-" Ryou began. "Actually, it isn't important."

"I won't stand for disrespect!" Vernon announced, glaring visibly at Bakura.

"I'm so sorry, sir," Ryou said.

Bakura completely ignored him, instead eating one of the cakes from the plate. Crumbs fell messily to the floor.

"I'm afraid your friend will have to leave!" Petunia said firmly to Ryou. She couldn't seem to bear to look at the mess on her carpet.

Ryou looked sideways at Bakura. "Could you make less mess please? It isn't polite."

"Yes, because I'm so polite usually," Bakura said. Something sadistic had taken over his face. "In fact… I'm getting bored here. Ryou, Hikari, I'm going out. Don't worry if I'm not back by midnight."

He stepped closer and placed a swift kiss on Ryou's lips, then he vanished into thin air with a soft wavering of darkness.

It had the intended effect. The kiss and the magic had been the final straw. "That's it! Everyone out of my house! I won't stand for this nonsense under my roof!" Vernon bellowed. He was livid, face purpling at a dramatic rate.

Harry's expression went from amused to worried in an instant. "Er, Ryou-"

Ryou forced a fake, pleasant smile onto his face. "Ah, yes, Bakura reminded me, I have a thing I need to do before it gets too late-"

"I'll help you," Harry said quickly, and they bailed from the house.

"You and that thing are never welcome in this house again!" Vernon bellowed from the doorway.

"Was he talking to you or me?" Ryou asked.

"No idea."

They ran until they reached the park. Bakura was lounging against a magnolia tree just outside the gate.

"That was great," Harry said with a laugh.

Bakura was endlessly smug. "Of course."

"Bakura does have a knack for getting under people's skin," Ryou said. Bakura's eyes moved down to Ryou's chest, and Ryou found himself shivering slightly.

/That… That isn't you. Not anymore/ Ryou sent over the link. A flicker of discomfort rippled, but was immediately overwhelmed with agreement.

/Something like that is no longer necessary/

Still, the sharp points of the millennium ring felt cold against the scar tissue in Ryou's chest.

"That was kinda fun, to be honest," Ryou admitted. "It didn't matter how polite I was. Bakura got us both kicked out!"

"I'm not surprised," Harry said. "I didn't know you had something like this to wear, though," he added, gesturing to the black clothing Bakura wore.

"He doesn't," Ryou said. "It's just part of him, the same way that he can appear in front of you and look solid. It's an illusion of the shadows. Right, Bakura?"

Bakura nodded. "You're learning well, Hikari." To Harry, he said, "I simply manifested this at my own will. See?"

The clothing rippled and changed once more, reverting back to what he wore that morning. The piercings and tattoo retreated into nothing, but the gold bracelets remained. He pulled them from his wrists.

"All except for these, of course," Bakura said. He tossed them to Ryou. "Meant to grab these from the soul room. Malik sent them. Latest from your father's dig. He pilfered these before anyone saw them and sent them our way."

"Bad Malik," Ryou said indulgently.

"If he of all people thinks it's okay, it has to be, right?" Bakura said, wiggling his eyebrows mischievously.

"Are those really from Egypt?" Harry asked.

Ryou handed them over so Harry could look at the markings etched faintly into the sides.

"Pulled from a tomb and everything," Ryou said. "See here, this is the name of the Pharoah. It says… Uh…"

Bakura leaned over. "Sobekhotep."

"You can read this?" Harry asked, eyes going wide.

"To a degree," Bakura said with a shrug. "Writing wasn't commonly known in my time. But you spend enough time in tombs and you decide leaning what you can might be useful."

Harry studied him carefully. "So, you really are from Egypt? What did you do back then? You know, before you ended up like… this." Harry gestured vaguely at Bakura.

"I was a thief and a tomb robber. Dangerous profession back then. Had the scars to prove it, too. Ah, but it was a thrill…" He trailed off wistfully. "There wasn't ever any other place for me."

Ryou half-smiled and retook the cuffs. They looked good beside the lapis bracelet so he settled them on his forearms.

"So, now that that's done, was there anything else you wanted to do today, Harry?"

A week passed quickly like this.

Ryou didn't stray too close to number four, for fear of angering the Dursleys once again. Instead, he and Bakura spent a significant portion of time in Magnolia Crescent's shoddy park.

Harry joined them often, having nothing better to do. They filled the time with talk of magic and other things.

Harry told Ryou about the cursed Defense against the Dark Arts position, and how no one lasted more than a year in it. He spoke of the different professors which had filled those positions, the good, the bad, and the crazy. They speculated about who might next take the position up.

Ryou told stories of his various muggle schools, and found a kindred, also-bullied soul in Harry. Both had been saved from the absolute worst of their tormentors by the grace of magic.

They talked about their families who were gone.

When the conversations took darker turns, they switched to lighter topics: what classes they would study next term, what Dudley's gang might be up to, and how the group had managed to convince their families that they weren't up to anything.

Ryou also spent another day visiting his mother and sister, dressing their graves in a sea of white flowers. The names could barely be read through the blossoms, and the stems could no longer be seen.

On the eighth day, Harry arrived at their usual spot with a letter from Dumbledore.

There was a tight curl in the parchment, fresh and still trying to reroll itself. The spidery handwriting was unmistakable.

"Is he really coming so soon?" Ryou asked.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I sent back a yes, but… Maybe he didn't get it. Or maybe he forgets, and I'm stuck here all summer…"

Ryou smiled encouragingly. "Well, I have nowhere better to be, so at least you'll have someone to talk to right?"

Harry seemed encouraged, so Ryou considered it a win.

They sat around the small broken roundabout. Uraeus had twined himself around one of the half-broken posts, holding on as they lazy spun it with their feet. Bakura was perched on the middle, watching from his higher vantage.

"You look tired," Harry eventually said.

Ryou flinched. "Ah, ahahaha, why would you say that?"

Harry dragged a finger under his eye. "You've got massive bags, and your eyes are bloodshot."

Ryou had also been unfocusing at the slightest provocation, and had nearly fallen asleep on the park toy. His cheeks colored in embarrassment.

"I haven't slept well the last two weeks," he admitted. Bakura's expression hardened. Ryou brushed his hand dismissively through the air. "Stop worrying about it so much, Bakura. I don't blame you."

"What's wrong?" Harry asked. "Is something happening?"

Ryou shifted uncomfortably on the roundabout. He hadn't wanted to talk about it. Saying it aloud made it seem more real. But Harry had suffered through nightmares all last year, and had ended up losing someone he'd loved because he hadn't done enough to stop them.

There was no one for Ryou to lose the same way, but that wasn't the point. People had gotten hurt. And Ryou's menacing nightmares were arguably worse than anything Harry could imagine.

"I… I've been having these dreams lately. Not dreams, they're nightmares. Bakura tries to stop them, but… Some of them have started to slip past him."

"What are they about? Different things, or always the same?" Harry asked.

Ryou shivered. "Almost always exactly the same. I'm falling. There's nothing I can do to stop it. And watching me is this… this thing. I can't describe him to you. I can't even say the name. It's too horrific. On his shoulder is Bakura, but it isn't Bakura. It's like him, but twisted. So dark…"

Ryou's arms went around himself, hugging himself tightly. Bakura vanished and reappeared at Ryou's back, enfolding him in a tight grip.

"Banish it from your mind. You're making it easier for him to find you."

"Sorry," Ryou whispered. He shook his head to clear it. "I'm sorry."

"There is nothing to apologize for."

Harry was frowning now. "How long has this been going on? Just two weeks?"

"It started last term. Bakura was able to stop it for a while, but it isn't always working anymore."

"We can figure it out, Ryou. Hermione might know something even if we don't, maybe we can-"

"No!" Ryou said. "You have enough to worry about with Voldemort. I'm not dragging you three into it too. This is my problem to deal with for now."

A soft twinkling started up in the background. Harry glanced around. "What was that?"

Ryou patted down his pockets until he found a phone. He recognized the number. "Malik?" he mumbled. He answered. "Hello?"

Loud noises crashed over the speaker, a cacophony of crumbling stone and things falling and people crying out in pain before suddenly falling silent. "-ou! Ryou! Do you hear me?!" Malik sounded frantic.

"Malik? What's wrong? What is it?" Panic crept into Ryou's voice. In the background, Marik's gleeful laugh signaled the destruction of something probably important.

Malik was screaming orders. "Get them out of the way, Marik, we need to stall! Ryou, you need to get to the circle. Hurry, there's no time!"

"What's going on over there?" Ryou cried out. "Malik! Malik!"

"We're under attack!"

Ryou locked eyes with Bakura. He'd heard. Uraeus quickly settled around Ryou's sleeve. Shadows filtered around them, rising like crashing waves.

"There's no time to waste."

Here's looking forward to a great story!