Title: rage, rage against the dying of the light
Author:
Neko-chan
Fandoms:
Yuugiou and Harry Potter
Rating:
T, eventual M
Pairings:
Yami no Yuugi/Harry/Yuugi, Yami no Bakura/Ryou, others currently undecided
Disclaimer:
Not mine. None of it.
Summary:
Achluophobia – fear of the dark. And yet, somehow, Harry Potter has come to love the monsters hidden within its Shadows.
Author's Note:
While looking after my grandpa, I've also been rereading some of my favorite stories; in this case, however, it's specifically esama's King's Jackal and Calamitynexus' Shadow of the Phoenix. I've missed the Yuugiou fandom, and so I decided to flirt with it a little bit here~ rage, rage against the dying of the light takes place during Harry's fourth year and after a changed/AU ending for the Yuugiou series; Yuugi and co. are around eighteen or so. For name usage, Yami no Yuugi will typically be referred to as "Yami" and Yami no Bakura as "Bakura."


Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

~ "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night," Dylan Thomas


01 – Crepuscular

.:.:.

The stone was deathly cold against Harry's thighs and backside.

The chill eased through the layers of the teen's clothing, seeping into skin, into blood and muscle and marrow—creeping along until the green-eyed boy knew that it would linger long after Harry finally left the Chamber of Secrets for the night.

But the Chamber did not have sharp, staring eyes; it did not have malice-filled whispers; it did not have turned shoulders or accusations of betrayal or hurriedly murmured "I'm sorry, Harry, but Ron…"s. The Chamber did not have any of those stupid badges that flashed at him in every corridor, every classroom, from every chest of every student.

Instead, the Chamber echoed with silence.

There were no eyes that flickered over to him as Harry curled up in one of the corners of the Chamber, eyes closed as his tousled, black head rested back against gray stone. There were no whispers of cheating, no quiet laughter as Harry admitted a truth that he had come to realize since catching a glimpse of Cedric, Viktor, and Fleur training with their yearmates:

"I'm so afraid."

§Why?§

Harry twitched at the first sibilant tones, eyes snapping open to meet the curious gaze of a baby basilisk. As Killing Curse green met bright, gleaming gold, Harry croaked in surprise and nearly swallowed his tongue in shock before realizing after a second of mutual staring that he wasn't dead. There was a basilisk in front of him. And their eyes were meeting. And he wasn't dead.

Silence stretched between the boy and the snake before the basilisk decided to break it. It leaned in close, ignoring how Harry tried to shift away, and nudged its nose pointedly against the Parselmouth's shoulder—fully expecting the human to answer it this time around. §Why?§ the creature asked again.

§I…§ Harry began, biting his lower lip as the snake slithered closer, settling comfortably over the teen's lap before once more staring expectantly up at the teen. §I was entered into a tournament that I never wanted to participate in. The… the other entrants are all older than me. More schooling, more training. More support from their schools.§ The last was said with more than a little bit of bitterness. §I'm not prepared. For any of this. I don't know what to do; I'm scared. I'm afraid that I'll… die.§

The snake was silent for several moments before huffing a hiss-filled sigh. §Silly human,§ it scolded quietly before easing upwards and curling its two foot length possessively over Harry's shoulders. To further emphasize Harry's 'silliness,' the basilisk flicked the tip of its tail against the teen's ear. §As if I would let my bonded die. Even if he did leave me here—alone!—for several passing seasons.§

Harry's response was, not unsurprisingly, rather appropriate. §…what?§

The basilisk chuckled quietly and dipped its way over Harry's shoulders, slipping beneath the teen's chin so that it might affectionately bump its head against warm skin. The snake's scales were sleek, cool and silky against Harry's throat, and the fondness of the creature's gesture had the boy closing his eyes against the pricking of tears. When was the last time that he had been touched with care…? Had been spoken to without the typical underlying harshness that he had come to expect…?

§I'm… I'm sorry, but I don't understand—not any of this. Bonded? You've… been waiting for me? Here? Why? Or even… how? I don't understand why I didn't immediately die after meeting your eyes.§

Harry swallowed quietly as the basilisk stilled before pulling away just enough to once again meet the teen's gaze with its own eerie, shimmering eyes. It cocked its head to the side, tongue flicking out to lightly brush over Harry's jawline—tasting the Parselmouth's skin, the magic that flowed over the teen's slim body, the emotions that filled both verdant eyes and the air between them.

Confusion. Embarrassment. Frustration. A little bit of fear. The remnants of sorrow, sour with how long it had lingered over the teen. And a bone-deep need that Harry himself was probably not aware that he had.

It was the last, however, that caused the basilisk to be as thorough with its words as it possibly could be. §When Salazar Slytherin left this school, he placed a collection of basilisk eggs under stasis and within the care of the Chamber's Guardian. Each time a new Heir made his or her way to the Chamber, one of the eggs would hatch—and the basilisk within that egg would become that particular Heir's familiar. Bonded. I hatched when you came seasons ago, when you fought against the Guardian and the false-Heir. You did not return and so I have been waiting for you, though you certainly took your time with it!§ For good measure, the basilisk flicked its tail against Harry's ear once more to show the boy the extent of its ire. Harry couldn't help but flinch at the quick burst of pain and widened his eyes in his best attempt towards sympathy so that the snake would become less annoyed with him.

Clearing his throat, Harry reached up and gently scratched just beneath the creature's chin. §Well… I suppose that that answers most of my questions. But why didn't your gaze affect me?§

Annoyance forgotten, the snake practically purred in pleasure at Harry's affectionate touch, and the scaled, almost feathery ruff around its head fluffed up, preening at the attention.

§Silly human,§ it repeated, though this time the words were filled with amusement. §Slytherin's Heirs are always immune to the gaze of the basilisk. After all, it would be rather silly to have us pledged as familiars if each wizard and witch died when we looked at them. Though...§ Here, the snake paused and slithered its way down Harry's arm until it nuzzled at the thick scar where the Guardian's fang had pierced muscle and bone, knowing exactly where the spot was despite the fact that it was currently covered by the teen's school uniform. §I wouldn't be at all surprised if my bonded had several more tricks up his sleeves.§

§…and you didn't sound at all smug about that just now,§ Harry commented, amused at the basilisk's obvious pleasure and possessiveness. The teen just received a chuckle in response as the basilisk draped itself around Harry's shoulders once more.

§But all of that is neither here nor there,§ the snake quietly murmured, gaze lazily going half-mast as it rested its head over the steady beating of Harry's heart. §There still remains this tournament of yours to be seen to.§ The reminder of the TriWizard Tournament had Harry's heartbeat picking up in pace, and the basilisk hissed comfortingly in response. §Stand up now, silly human. Let us go to the Study so that we can begin your preparations.§

Instinctively knowing already that it would be pointless to argue against the basilisk when it was determined that something should—and would—be done, Harry stood and began to make his way further into the Chamber of Secrets as he followed the snake's directions.

§You know, you never told me your name,§ Harry said, voice on the subdued side as he turned a corner of one of the tunnels within the Chamber, heading deeper and deeper beneath the castle—deeper than even Tom Marvolo Riddle had ever managed to explore.

Harry's comment garnered another soft chuckle from the basilisk still wrapped possessively about his shoulders. §You may call me Manasa, my silly human.§

It was with that phrasing that the teen knew that he was missing something important.

.:.:.

Slytherin's Study was larger than Harry had expected.

Bookcases lined each and every wall, stretching from floor to ceiling and overstuffed to the point that, oftentimes, books and scrolls were forced to pile up in front of the wooden monstrosities. Shelves layered themselves three or five books deep, and the scent of aged leather and dust filled Harry's nostrils as he glanced around, taking in the sight of titles written in languages too numerous to count—let alone identify.

"…wow," Harry whispered in awe, jaw dropped as he continued to look around, wide eyes taking in the sight all around him.

§And this is just the first room, child,§ Manasa commented smugly from her perch, shifting just enough to once more rub affectionately against the underside of Harry's chin. The thought that there was more to all this—with this room already larger than Hogwarts' library—was enough to slightly unsettle Harry. So much knowledge, locked away in a chamber far, far below the castle that only Slytherin's Heirs could access… It seemed a waste.

Who knew how much of the knowledge hidden away here had been lost to the wizarding world at large? How many tomes destroyed in the outside world, damaged beyond repair—forgotten by the ages?

As if tracking his thoughts, Manasa caressed her head against Harry's cheek. §Besides the basilisk hatchlings, this is the Inheritance that Slytherin left for his Heirs. Knowledge and power and magic. Tradition and truth and family.§

It was the word "family" that finally coaxed Harry further into the Study, and the sense of rightness washed over the teen; it settled low in his belly, filling his body with a feeling of elation and connection and belonging that Harry had only ever experienced before in his dreams. And it was then that a voice whispered through the Chamber of Secrets, murmuring around and within him, echoing with power and knowledge and Magic and a sense of belonging and of kinship:

Welcome home, my Heir.