A bloodcurdling scream split the night. The stench of shadows was in the air.
Ryou sat bolt upright in his bed, writhing in terror. Above him, Bakura's expression was grim.
The nightmare had returned, every bit as terrible as it had been only a few short months ago. Reprieve seemed like a distant shattered hope. Despair bubbled up.
Arms enclosed him, warm and comforting. Ryou struggled to slow his heart, taking in the dusky, darkened features of the hotel room. A second bed, which they had not used. A television that had a few channels of news and a few others of a more adult variety. They hadn't turned it on once.
Bakura's pulse was steady against his ear. Ryou curled inward. "Why…?" he whispered. "What is that monster? I need to know, Bakura. This is getting worse."
"I shouldn't," Bakura said.
Ryou's fingers clenched shut, curling into a fist against Bakura's chest. "Please. You said you wouldn't keep secrets like this. I can't bear not knowing, especially if the dreams are getting past you. Surely anything is better than ignorance."
Bakura hesitated.
"How much do you know about where I come from?" he eventually asked softly.
"Not much…" Ryou said. "I know you watched your village die to make the items. I know you grew up alone. But otherwise… Nothing."
Bakura sighed. "Then it isn't fair for you not to know."
Ryou nuzzled closer, inhaling the shadowy scent of Bakura's skin. He was starting to relax his clenched fist again, and let the pressure out of his shoulders.
"After my family was slaughtered by the pharaoh's men, I had to grow up fast. I lived a rough life. You know that much. And the one thing I wanted more than anything else, more than the riches of the palace or all the gold in all the tombs, was revenge against the one responsible."
"I know that," Ryou said, nodding slowly. "Why else would you have made it this long?"
"I'm getting to that. I pilfered from tombs, carved out a life for myself in the shadowy underworld of Egypt. But it wasn't enough. I was the King of Thieves, but I couldn't get close enough to the palace to enact my revenge. I couldn't ensure my survival to make it that far. At least, not until Zorc Necrophades."
"Z-"
"Don't say his name," Bakura interrupted. "This isn't like that phony dark lord Voldemort. Saying his name… it invites him in. He is the Dark One, the God of Chaos and Strangers, born from the darkness of people's hearts and the creator of the Shadow Realm. He saw my mission, and he, well, took interest."
"He gave you the ring?" Ryou asked.
Bakura shook his head. "No, but he told me how to get it. He saw in me a great potential, and a darkness he could use. I was tested, and then I was given a choice: to give myself over to him, or never see a drop of the Pharaoh's blood. This was how I eventually came into possession of the ring, and then bonded it to my soul."
"He's the reason you bonded with the ring?" Ryou surmised.
"Yes. He told me that it was possible to persist even beyond the death of my mortal form, and I was intrigued. With stakes as high as they were, I knew there was little choice. But the ring began to drive me slowly mad, and when death came for me, he sealed both he and myself within."
"I see," Ryou said softly. "But why mention this now? What does this all have to do with the dreams?"
"Uraeus and I have been talking, and we think that this might be what changed. My defeat in the Memory World RPG game sealed the both of us away inside of that tablet. Of course, I escaped, just like I always do. But… when I did, there was a piece fundamentally missing."
"What do you mean?" Ryou asked. Bakura reached down and grasped the ring which hung from Ryou's neck, cradling it in his fingertips. He smoothed his thumb over the wadjet symbol inscribed on its front.
"I mean, he and I had been trapped in this ring since that day so long ago. But when I slipped out alone, all that remained without him was a piece of me which remembered what had happened, but no longer possessed the same dark, genocidal hunger. That missing piece of the Dark One made its way elsewhere. Of course, I'm still plenty evil," Bakura added with a dark laugh. "I did plenty of terrible things before him, and I'll continue without him."
"I'm not so sure," Ryou said. "You're different now. It would explain so much. You might be rude sometimes, but you aren't ruthless. Before you were cruel and emotionless. But now…" Ryou smiled up and shyly feathered a few kisses over Bakura's cheek. Bakura tipped up Ryou's chin and met his lips, drawing the moment out, long and slow.
After a moment, they parted, and Bakura sighed. "Now I'm just tired. I'm tired of all of the runaround and the struggle and never winning. Somehow, that blasted Pharaoh always beats me, without fail, even when all of the odds are absolutely stacked in my favor. There is always defeat. It's just impossible for me to win."
"Well, you won me, didn't you?" Ryou's lips twisted up in a little smile.
Bakura petted Ryou's hair, but he didn't look as amused. "I still feel like I can't escape from him. These dreams, it's like… He's taunting me. Can't I win just once!" Bakura roared, slamming his fist down suddenly on the bed sheets beside Ryou.
Ryou smoothed his hand over Bakura's. "Just stick with it. I'm sure something will work out eventually."
Bakura lowered his head, burying his face into Ryou's hair. "Get some sleep, Hikari. You've got an early morning tomorrow. The newspapers will be taking photographs of you, and you'll feel a drain when the souls are released."
"I know. I don't feel like sleeping just yet, though," Ryou said. "Could… you maybe hum that song again?"
Bakura's smile was so sad, it seemed to cut right into Ryou's heart. "Why not?" he said. The song started up, soft and rumbling deep in Bakura's chest. The sound of it reverberated through Ryou, and he closed his eyes, letting it wash over him.
The shadows moved over him in a rush, then receded to reveal their room in Mrs. Figg's house. It had taken ten seconds total, longer than they had to spare. Malik and the others were in danger.
"Hurry," Ryou said.
"I am!" Bakura snarled, gathering the shadows once more. They'd landed on the bed. The chalk circle just beneath it was slowly darkening under the churning, twisting shadows. Ryou rubbed his thumb along the wand in his back pocket. There wasn't time for this.
The shadows rose up, and the room was suddenly bathed in waves of cold. In seconds, the darkness had returned, deeper and wider than before.
"Malik's opened the path already. Now he just needs to hold on," Ryou muttered. They started to run through the darkness, making for the other end of the shadows.
"I'm going as fast as I can," Bakura growled. Every second passed with excruciating slowness. They weren't going to make it in time. "Come on, come on."
They tumbled through the darkness, stumbling out into a wave of heavy, oppressive heat. It washed over them, bathing them in a glorious light which chased the darkness away. They were in Egypt.
Ryou smelled thick, black smoke. He coughed and stumbled to his knees. Bakura dragged him back to his feet, and a slim tanned figure dragged them both through the room.
"Thank Ra!" Malik said. "They're outside. Ishizu's been holding them back, but we can't keep them out for much longer! They've already set fire to the outside of the house, that's where the smoke is coming from!"
"Where's Marik?" Ryou asked. An explosion rocked the ground. Stray traces of rubble fell from the ceiling, knocked loose by the discharge.
Bakura gritted his teeth. "Found him." They emerged outside. Sand whipped past their faces at a furious pace. Black cloaked figures threw jets of light from their wands.
"Death Eaters? Here?" Ryou said incredulously.
"Is that what they are?" Malik asked, hurling a ray of shadows at the nearest one. The figure blocked it with a wave of his wand and retaliated with another light jet. Suddenly a monster rose up from the sand like a shark rising out of the ocean, and it consumed the man in one bite.
"Devour them, my pretties!" Marik cried out, lifting his arms in glee.
On his bloodstained face was a twisted sort of euphoria. Marik reveled in the endless destruction. He was darkness incarnate, consumptive chaos. He was a Midas with a touch of death instead of gold.
Bakura vanished and reappeared at the maniac's side. "What are you at?"
"Six!" Marik replied instantly. He threw his hands out and laughed, a cold, cruel, sadistic sort of sound. "Seven! You've got some catching up to do, shadow thief!"
"We'll see," Bakura replied with a smirk. Just like that, the sand began to ripple faster and faster, twining with granules of black. The very desert itself gave birth to a monstrous, twisting form. Wings flared from a slate gray torso which ended in the serpentine body of a hissing cobra. Its head was full of massive fangs. "Rise, Diabound!"
Ryou couldn't believe the creature that stood before him. It bellowed and raised its fearsome claws, lashing out at three of the nearby death eaters in a brutal strike. Two fell instantly, and the third was captured in the snake half's long-fanged bite. All three crumpled to the ground in a dead faint. A few of the other death eaters began to blast it with spells, but rather than injure the creature, it seemed to make it angrier and more powerful.
The jets of red and green light began to flow under its gray skin like glittering, iridescent veins. Diabound rose up taller and attacked once more, unleashing the lights back at those who had first cast them.
Ryou threw a stunning spell toward one of the death eaters who had managed to avoid the assault, and they dropped like a rock.
"We're tied now," Bakura said with a sharp-toothed smirk.
Marik growled. "We'll see about that, ice queen."
The battle raged around him, furious and hot. It was all Ryou could do to balance shield charms with stunning spells.
In the distance, Odion and Ishizu defended the entrance of the tomb from a rush of more of the hooded figures. Malik was struggling against a circle of them which had pinned him down behind a large rock.
As soon as he'd duck his head out to launch a ball of soul-sucking shadows, more of the lights would streak toward him, forcing him to retreat back to cover. They were slowly converging. Ryou sprinted toward him.
Ryou hurled a brilliant ball of light at the rock, sending out a blinding flash bang which blinded the death eaters for a split second. Not long, but enough for Ryou to hop behind the rock beside Malik.
They launched several attacks from the rock, and two more of the death eaters fell. "Marik and Bakura are taking care of most of them," Ryou said, hurling a paralysis spell toward one of the attackers.
"I just told Marik to help Odion and Ishizu. Not sure if he'll listen, though."
"If we can take these out we can-" Ryou cried out as a sudden pain sprang though his torso, gashing through him like the sweep of a knife. He clenched his teeth and dropped.
Every pulse of blood shuddered through him more painfully than the last.
"Ryou!" Malik called, hurling more shadows in the direction the spell had some. "Ryou, are you alright?"
"Fine," Ryou managed through gritted teeth. He held his hand against the wound, trying to hold his his side together. Blood spilled thick and fast through his fingers. He whimpered.
Diabound rose from the sand in front of them like an avenging angel, taking a swipe at the hooded figures. The battle raged, quick and furious, and then tapered off with a strange suddenness. The death eaters were afraid. The spells had stopped. They all saw their unconscious comrades on the ground.
As though a retreat had been called, all of the death eaters vanished with loud pops: the ones by the rock, the ones attempting to break into the tomb, even the ones still attempting to take Marik down. Most grabbed one of the fallen, dead or alive, and retreated.
Marik was dripping with blood, and most of it didn't appear to be his. He was still stabbing a motionless corse, as though he couldn't stop.
Bakura appeared beside Ryou, glowing with rage. "Who did it?! I'll destroy them, rip out their soul, feed it to Ammit, piss on their corpse, I'll-"
"Bakura," Ryou croaked, clutching his side. Bakura dropped to his knees beside him.
Ryou felt his shirt being pulled back, and light fingers feathered down his torso. He twisted to see it. A nasty gash sliced through him from armpit to navel, gruesome and bloody.
"Stay with me," Bakura growled.
"I'm here, I'm fine," Ryou panted.
"You're most certainly not fine!" Bakura said.
Malik had removed his shirt and was struggling to tear it into strips. Bakura drew out a knife and made short work of it. The sound of tearing fabric sounded strangely booming and yet distant in Ryou's ears.
"If you want something done right," Bakura muttered, and he started to roughly bind Ryou's chest as tightly as he could.
Ryou gasped. Pain lanced up and down the open wound, and the grinding of sand into his skin made him want to scream. He fought to grit his teeth. "Can't breathe," he whispered.
"Sorry, it has to be this tight," Bakura said. He sounded only a little sorry. Malik dropped to his knees as well.
"Bakura, we don't know that they're gone-"
"They're gone," Bakura said. "They probably thought you'd be an easy target, so they weren't prepared to deal with this much resistance. They'll be back eventually, but not for a while." He tied the binding off.
Bakura slid his arms under Ryou's back and knees and hoisted him up. They hurried to the tomb. "Ishizu!" Malik yelled. "Ishizu, Ryou's hurt-"
Ishizu was wrapping a long, gauze bandage around Odion's head. Odion looked half-dazed, but otherwise fine. "Don't jostle him," she warned Bakura. Bakura became a statue, still holding Ryou aloft.
Malik's eyes widened. Ryou couldn't remember the last time Bakura had so obediently followed an order, any order. He bit his tongue, trying to keep from whimpering again. A hint of pain escaped. Bakura snarled.
"When I find the one responsible for this I'll-"
Ishizu guided them into the mouth of the tomb, out of the sun. "Quiet, spirit of the ring. There is nothing you can do about it now. We need to make sure that Ryou is alright."
"Can't magic-" Ryou mumbled, gritting his teeth. He gasped as a spasm of pain lanced through him. Blood trickled to the floor in slow drops.
"This isn't your pretty little wand magic, Hikari. Shadows can't fix things. But…" Bakura paused.
"Dumbledore, we need Dumbledore," Ryou said. "He needs to know-"
Bakura tightened the wrappings further. Ryou gasped for breath, but the constriction distracted him from the pain.
"I'm going to try to calm Marik down," Malik said.
"Take Odion with you, and when you finish, tell him to send a message out," Ishizu advised, checking Ryou over carefully. She turned toward Bakura. "I need to remove the bandage. Can I, spirit?"
She was keeping her tone firm, but level and calm. Ryou recognized that tone. It was the kind a person used when speaking to a wild animal. All of that experience dealing with Marik, Ryou assumed.
"Fine," Bakura said, teeth clenched tight.
"Hurts," Ryou whimpered as the bandages loosened.
Bakura lowered his head, stroking his fingers quickly through Ryou's hair. "Shh, it's fine. Breathe. Just breathe. Deep breaths in and out," Bakura said.
Ryou's breath was rough and halting.
Bakura laid a hand on Ryou's chest, the other slipping into Ryou's clenching fist. "Come on, in… out… in…" It leveled out, but Bakura didn't stop. Ryou grasped Bakura's hand like a lifeline.
Fresh white bandages wrapped round and round his chest, pulled tight like before. "He needs stitches, but we don't have anything for it," Ishizu said.
Bakura growled. "No, he needs those wizards. They can fix this. We need to get to England, we need to-"
"There are wizards here, Spirit," Ishizu said.
"This is Dumbledore's problem. He needs to fix this!" Bakura roared.
"How is it his problem?" Ryou asked weakly.
"He's the one who drew the Ishtars into this. If they hadn't attacked here, if you hadn't gotten caught in the middle-" Bakura raged.
"Bakura," Ryou said, copying Ishizu's calm but hard tone. "It's too late for that. It's happened. I- ow- ah- just need some painkillers or something-"
Odion hurried into the tomb with Malik in tow. "It was tough, but we got him under control. I alerted the nearby camp. They've got a medic who can help. The healer tends to the tomb-keepers' injuries. We can hurry there."
"I'll take him," Bakura said. "Show me a map, I can get there."
Malik shook his head. "I'll take you there. It's magically hidden. You might not find it, even if we told you."
"Then start moving!" Bakura growled.
Malik gave him a hard look. "Ryou is my friend too. I'm just as worried as you are, but this isn't necessary. You're as bad as Marik right now. Calm down, or you'll hurt someone without even realizing it, just like he does."
Shadows whipped into a frenzy around them, taking home away from the tomb. They were spat out near an enclave of rock and tents. A few long-robed wizards came rushing out. Bakura glared at Malik, then sighed.
"I just can't afford to lose. Not this time," he said.
The wizards patched Ryou up, taking away the pain with a vial of sweet-tasting potion. There were no stitches, but the wound needed to remain bandaged for the next day or two. He also wasn't allowed to move around much for the next two weeks, for fear of injuring himself further. It would scar, but it would heal.
Bakura never left his side, holding his hand through it all, even as a dream-like haze settled over Ryou and even fogged Bakura over slightly as it passed over the mind link.
After a few hours of rest, they were allowed to bring Ryou back to the Ishtars, and were given one more vial of the sweet potion in case the pain returned. Ryou thanked them profusely.
Bakura carried Ryou out, despite his protests that he could walk.
"The death eaters could attack again at any time. You need your hands free," Ryou said.
"You're just saying that because you want down. You and I both know they they aren't attacking again any time soon as long as all of us are here. They suffered greater losses than we did," Bakura replied.
They reappeared outside the tomb. Night was falling over the quiet desert, the sun long gone, and with it its last rays of light. It seemed curiously quiet. Ishizu and Odion were picking their way around the ruins of the small, smoldering house. Malik sat on the ground with his head in his hands.
Hunks of wood jutted, blackened and destroyed, from the sand like wreckage. The house was gone. There was a chance that there was something salvageable to be found, but things didn't look good.
"Ryou will be fine," Bakura said after a moment. He let Ryou finally slide to his feet beside Malik, who didn't look up. Ryou sat beside him.
"The house is gone. We couldn't put it out," he said, voice broken. "I can't go back in that tomb, Ryou. I can't live there again."
"No one is going to make you go in there," Ryou said, patting Malik on the back.
Ishizu worked her way back slowly. "You're feeling alright now, Ryou?"
He nodded. "What will you do now?"
"I don't know. We need to keep the tomb safe, but we also need to stay alive ourselves. If those people come back-"
"Death Eaters," Ryou said quietly. "They're death Eaters. Voldemort must still want the power of the shadows."
"How did he find out where it was?" Odion asked. He patted Malik on the back, rubbing in small, soothing circles. Malik was shaking.
Ryou hesitated. "He must have pulled it from my mind last year."
"Entirely possible," an old voice said.
Ryou whipped his head up. Dumbledore looked vaguely out of place in his robes, pointed hat, and half moon spectacles. Ryou hadn't even noticed the pop indicating his arrival.
"Now you show up-" Bakura roared, but Ryou held him back with a soft hold on his hand.
"I'm afraid I only just got word of what happened, Spirit."
"You made it here sooner than I expected," Odion said.
"This is a matter we cannot simply ignore. If Voldemort is making moves in the open like this, this must be something he wants very badly."
"They were not attempting to kill us," Odion said. "Most of the attacks were nonlethal."
"Then it must be something he cannot get without at least one of you. You're correct, Ms. Ishtar. We need to keep your tomb safe. There are some measures we can take to protect it beyond what exists currently. But it may take some time, and there may be more immediate measure we might have to make in the meanwhile."
"Are you saying we need to go elsewhere until this blows over?" Odion asked.
"Possibly. You'll still have access to the tomb, but keeping the lock separated from the key never hurts, if you know what I mean," Dumbledore said.
Ryou saw a flash play over Bakura's face. That was right, they had failed to retrieve the key to the stone tablet. The prophecy had been smashed, and to make matters worse, neither had heard a word of the contents. Shadow users had access to other parts, but the tablet room itself was sealed tightly away.
Keeping the key separate, indeed.
"Malik needs to be kept safe. I won't see him in danger. No more," Ishizu said firmly.
"Professor Dumbledore," Ryou piped up. "The school, isn't it safe?"
Dumbledore thumbed his chin thoughtfully. "An envoy from the shadows," he muttered, so quietly it was like Ryou had imagined it.
"What was that, professor?" Ryou asked.
"Nothing, Mr. Bakura. Just a discussion I had with Minerva."
Malik lifted his head slowly. His face was filthy and sandy, save for the long lines streaked clean by tears. His eyes were red.
"I've decided," Dumbledore said. "Ms Ishtar, you and the elder Mr. Ishtar can assist me with the protections of the tomb. You can seek refuge with the order until such time as you decide to return. In the meanwhile, the younger Ishtar can attend Hogwarts, my school of magic. There is no place safer, I assure you."
"Go to school?" Malik said incredulously.
"Malik, the school is amazing. The stories I could tell you..." Ryou said.
"But Ishizu, Odion-"
"They will be kept perfectly safe as well," Dumbledore assured him.
"We'll protect the tomb, Malik. Go to Hogwarts with Ryou. I've heard a few things about it. It'll be a nice change. It'll be good for you to spend time with more people your age." Ishizu smiled softly.
"By the time you get back, we'll have the house rebuilt and better than before. Be safe," Odion said.
Malik hesitated. "But Odion, what about Marik?" Discomfort flashed over Odion's face, however briefly.
"Without the millennium rod, he has much less power. It won't be an issue," Bakura said.
"And Malik, you've been able to rein him in better lately, haven't you?" Ryou said.
Malik frowned at the sand. "Well, a bit…" A half a smile flickered over his face. It was drowning in pain, but a small light could be seen. "Might be fun…"
"Just think of the fun we could have, going to school together," Ryou added, and Malik's eyes gleamed with mischief.
"That's right," he realized. "I've never gone to a real school before. I listened to Yugi and the others talk about it, but I've never actually been to one before."
Ryou was grinning.
"Then it's decided," Dumbledore said. "We can be on our way immediately."
"Where are we going?" Ryou asked.
"To the burrow," Dumbledore replied, as though Ryou knew what that was. Dumbledore held out his left arm towards Ryou. The other, he saw, was curiously blackened. "I can only take one at a time," he apologized.
Ryou didn't particularly want to, remembering the last time something like this had happened, but there was nothing for it. He grabbed Dumbledore's hand. Bakura vanished, settling comfortably on the back of Ryou's mind.
"Hold on tightly. The sensation can be a bit disorienting," Dumbledore added, speaking to both Malik and Ryou. "I'll return in a few minutes. Enough time to say goodbye, I should think." He smiled encouragingly at Malik and then turned to Ryou. "Let's be on our way."
It happened so suddenly that Ryou almost couldn't tell what had caused it. They both lurched into a sensation of total compression, as though a bubble was sealing itself around Ryou, squeezing out every trace of air from his body, pushing his eyes deep into his skull, and as quickly as it started, they tumbled out onto a desolate country lane. It was early evening, with twilight creeping in.
Dumbledore glanced at Ryou with what almost seemed like a sheepish grin. "I can't imagine Molly will be too pleased to see us like this, but there's nothing for it."
They started towards a house which improbably tilted and leaned in a mind-boggling variety of directions, as though the building had only ever gone up and not out, with stability dependent wholly on magic.
The castle had been magnificent, grand and unquestionably magical, but this was entirely different. It was some strange combination of practicality and whimsy and Ryou couldn't help but love it instantly. "This is the burrow?" he asked.
"Correct. Molly should still be up…" He glanced at a watch which possessed eighteen hands and a dizzying array of moons and numbers that didn't seem to relate. "Barely eight. Yes, we should be fine…"
Ryou looked down at his clothing in horror as he realized what Dumbledore just said. Molly meant Mrs. Weasley.
She'd clucked at him for being too thin and attempted to dote on him when he pretended to be sick. Now he was covered in blood and sand, his shirt hanging from his skinny frame in tatters, and the bandage was starting to soak through again, the wound twisting when he stood. It was just enough to being weeping once more, albeit at a much more sluggish pace.
"Uh, professor-" Ryou said, but Dumbledore was already briskly walking toward the burrow.
/To be fair/ Bakura mentioned, sounding slightly amused. /You're the one who'll be doted on. He has to explain to that woman what exactly happened to you and why you showed up looking like this/ Bakura began to cackle.
Ryou tried to make his hair lie flatter. /It isn't funny/ he tried to say as Bakura laughed even harder.
Ryou walked toward the house as best he could, but his side burned like fire with every step. He clutched at the wound, biting his tongue.
Bakura appeared beside him. "You wanted to walk," he said.
"I do," Ryou said. He ground his teeth together, trying to keep from making noise. The potion for pain was still in his back pocket, but he hesitated to use it so soon.
"If you want help, you need only ask," Bakura said. He was walking backwards now, watching Ryou struggle up the path.
"I can do it," Ryou said. Air whistled harshly through his teeth as he exhaled in a huff. The slice burned, but Ryou was stronger than this. He lifted his head. Bakura lifted one eyebrow.
Ryou laughed a little, a slightly pained sound.
"You know, if our positions were reversed, we'd be in exactly the same spot," he said.
Bakura smiled tightly. "You're not wrong. Which is why your refusal is so… attractive," he said. "So willful and stubborn, my pretty little light. It is also why it's so hard not to simply pick you up and whisk you away."
"You're so full of it," Ryou scoffed, but the fluttering in his chest told a different story. He forced away the smile. He wasn't indulging Bakura, no matter how good it felt to hear his darker half talk like that.
Finally, he made it to the burrow's porch, where Dumbledore waited patiently by the door. He knocked three times when Ryou came to a panting stop.
He leaned against Bakura to catch his breath. Bakura grinned. Ryou flushed. "I'm just tired," he said, but he smiled back too.
A voice just inside the door called, "Who's there? Declare yourself!"
"It is I, Albus, bringing Ryou."
The door swung open. It was Mrs. Weasley, her hair a bit frazzled. "We only just got your owl," she said, before looking at Ryou. She froze in place. "Now just what have you gotten this poor boy into, I swear, Albus-"
"Molly," Dumbledore said graciously, "perhaps it might be best not to linger on doorsteps."
"Of course," she said beckoning them in. "Come on, in, in. Now what happened, poor dear?" She crowded close to Ryou, turning his head this way and that. His eyes were still slightly unfocused, but it wasn't a problem. Ryou clutched tighter at his side. Bakura slipped Ryou's arm around his shoulder and straightened, taking some of the weight off. Ryou gave him an appreciative look.
"My friend was attacked," he said. "Death eaters. We held them off, but one of them… Some kind of spell…" Ryou coughed, and the jarring was some new level of hell not yet experienced by mere mortals.
"Those bastards cut him with something. I'll kill them if I find them." Bakura added the last part in a mutter. The threats were downgrading. He was calming slightly. Small miracles.
"I'll be alright," Ryou assured her. "I just need a bath and some rest. Oh, my things-" Ryou said.
"They'll arrive in an hour," Dumbledore assured him.
Mrs. Weasley ushered him and Bakura towards the kitchen. "Come on, let's get you something to eat."
A large bowl of something hot and warm was slid in front of him, some kind of thick stew with hearty chunks of meat and carrot and various other vegetables. It looked and smelled delicious.
By the time Ryou turned back around, Mrs. Weasley had gone, back to whisper furiously at Dumbledore.
"I could listen if you want," Bakura offered.
Ryou shook his head. The first bite of stew went down rich and delicious. "I have a pretty good idea of what they're talking about."
By the time he had finished, Dumbledore was leaving again to collect Malik. Mrs. Weasley brought out a large collection of medical supplies. "Now," she said. "Let's get you fixed up."
Bakura helped him to his feet. Ryou pulled the grimy shirt off, the ripped side making it easier to pull off. He paused, holding it in his hands.
"Just toss it there. I'll see if I can do anything to save it," she said.
Hermione's head appeared at the top of the stairs. "Is someone here?" she called down.
"Hermione? I didn't know you were here," Ryou said.
"Ryou?" He heard her going down the stairs. She paused in the doorway, shocked. Oh, that was right.
His weight was divided between Bakura and a table, the bandages unwound and the skin barely sealed closed. Blood had run down the entirety of his side and the leg of his pants. His hair was full of sand and dirt and gore, clotted with viscera and tangles.
What an attractive picture he must have made then.
"What happened?" she asked. "Are you alright? Did Bakura-"
"Of course not," Bakura said, just as Ryou said, "No!"
Ryou yelped at the icy cold touch of fresh medicine along the wound. Mrs. Weasley apologized but didn't stop.
"My friend was being attacked. Death eaters. Agh! Ow! Don't worry, it's not as bad as it looks."
"I can feel it too, Hikari," Bakura said. He gave Ryou a slightly stern look and Ryou laughed weakly.
"Ahahah, right. It's fine, Hermione. By the way, did you want to meet Malik?"
"Huh?" she said. "What were death eaters doing attacking? Why?"
More footsteps sounded on the stairs. "Hermione, where did you- oh, Ryou!" Ron sounded as surprised as Hermione had been.
"I'm fine," Ryou said quickly. The wound was clean and medicated now, and it looked remarkably better. Still terrible, but better.
"I can bandage him," Bakura said.
"I think not, young man," Mrs. Weasley said. "I want it done right. I'll be doing it."
Bakura snorted. "With what bandages?" he said. She looked at her hand, but the bandages were gone. Bakura held them up. Mrs. Weasley puzzled about how he could have taken them seemingly without moving. "I want it done right, too."
He began to bind Ryou's chest and torso tight. "Gah, can't breathe," Ryou protested. Bakura pulled it tighter, firm determination on his lips. Mrs. Weasley frowned, but seemed satisfied that Bakura knew what he was doing after a moment of watching.
"Five thousand years," Bakura muttered to Ryou. "Young man my ass." He stepped back and dusted off his hands. "There. Used to have one just like this," Bakura said. He trailed his finger so lightly over the line of the cut that Ryou couldn't even feel it. "Course, mine got infected. Almost the death of me. Good thing I was young."
Ryou wavered unsteadily to his feet, testing himself. It still hurt to stand, but less so. "How young?"
Bakura considered for a moment. "I think… ten? Yes, ten. I was lucky I didn't lose my hands. Taught me a lesson about stealing."
"That it's wrong?" Ryou teased with a wry grin.
Bakura shot him a pleased, devilish look. "That it's not enough to be good. You must be the best. And so I did."
"You were stealing at ten?" Ron asked incredulously. "That's not right, mate."
Bakura shot him a sideways look. "I was stealing at eight. I was the King of Thieves by 17, leading an army of bandits on plunders greater than your imagination. And I died at 21, in a glorious battle against one of the most powerful Pharaohs in Egypt's history. Age is but a number to an entity of thousands of years."
Ron's eyes were massive. "Oh."
They were saved further conversation by another knock on the door. "Malik!" Ryou cried with a smile, hobbling towards the door. He clutched his side in pain.
"I'll get it, Ryou, sit down and relax, why don't you?" Mrs. Weasley said, glaring disapprovingly at Bakura. Bakura stuck out his tongue like a child.
She vanished for a moment. Ryou returned to his seat, guided by Bakura. "So what happened to you?" Ron asked.
"Since both of you are here… I was talking with Harry earlier, when I got a call from Malik. His home was under attack from death eaters."
"But why were they going after him? What did they want?" Hermione asked.
"Remember what I said in the hospital wing? About how there were more people who can use the shadows?" Ryou asked.
Both nodded.
"Well, his whole family can use them. They've lived in Egypt for generations, keeping the tomb of the unnamed pharaoh safe. Malik is the first of his line to leave the tombs, and it isn't safe for him there anymore. Voldemort wants the shadows for himself, I think."
"Ryou, that's not good," Hermione said.
"Don't worry too much. There isn't a lot he can do now. The shadows aren't so easy to wield, and even harder to access in the first place," Ryou said.
Malik shuffled into the room. He still seemed a bit crestfallen from leaving home, but he brightened upon entering the room. "Geeze, Ryou, it's so cold here!"
He had his arms around himself, Odion's overlarge shirt drowning him in fabric. Ryou was caught between a smile and a frown. "I'm sorry you had to rip up your shirt."
Malik waved the comment away. "Nonsense. It was just a shirt. It saved your life didn't it? I'm a hero!" He jutted his chin out proudly.
Ryou laughed. Malik pointed a thumb back towards the other room. "That man grabbed your things. The trunk's in there."
"Great. Malik, meet Ron and Hermione. They're Gryffindors at Hogwarts. They're my classmates, and they'll be sixth years. Ron, Hermione, meet Malik."
"Nice to meet you," Hermione said. "We've heard a lot about you."
"Good things, of course," Malik said with a nod and a bit of a grin. "Now, Ryou, what the heck is a Gryffindor?"