I do not own HP or YGO

Chapter Two

Harry couldn't help but glare at Dumbledore resentfully, as the elderly man simply sipped at his tea, letting the unconscious body rest on a sofa he had conjured upon his arrival.

"Why are we just waiting?" he finally exploded. "Wake him up! He's probably working for Voldemort."

Dumbledore tutted. "Harry, my dear boy, even if this boy was awake, at the moment he's much too weak to do much of anything. Besides, he's not a student. Poppy would have my head if I gave her this boy too exhausted, if we don't know anything about his family's medical history, or even his own."

Harry growled, and threw himself into one of the seats, aware of his friends watchful eyes on him from the sidelines from where they sat. "Fine."

Dumbledore smiled.

The boy blinked, feeling a sense of deja-vu. He was somewhere unfamiliar... again. That's right... he had woken up in the woods...

He sat up, restraining the groan that wanted to break out. Everything was blurred; his eyes strained to make sense of what they saw. An office, maybe? It was empty except for the vague form that sat across from him. "Where... am I?" He forced the words through his tired lips.

As he blinked, the blurred figure cleared, and he could see an old man sitting in the desk. He blinked again. He might not have a ton of memories, but... he was sure that people were not using quills anymore. Or the blinking contraption that was placed precariously on top of a towering stack of paper.

"Ah! You're awake!" his frail hand reached out to steady the boy as he lurched to the side. "Don't move too fast. You were injured when we found you, and you've been sleeping for quite the time."

"Oh..." the boy murmured. "I don't hurt?"

The man's blue eyes twinkled brighter. "We healed you." The man answered.

"Healed? Like magic?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Just like magic. Who are you, my dear boy, that you've stumbled into Hogwarts?"

The white haired boy frowned. "I don't know why I'm here..."

"How about how old you are?"

"I don't know. I don't remember anything."

The old man sighed. "Well, then, I suppose there's no other choice. You'll just have to stay here until you remember something. It's not by chance that you've landed in the biggest magic school in England, and unfortunately, it's not something I want my enemies to know. And from those wounds you had when we found you, I'm sure you have some enemies yourself."

The boy nodded slowly. "But you'll try to find out who I am, right?" he asked anxiously.

Dumbledore nodded. "Of course. I'm sure there are people out there right now looking for you."

...

"My lord, we have the ring" a masked figure groveled before the creature seated in the high backed chair, "We have retrieved it as you have ordered."

"Very good, my servant," the thin, reedy voice hissed. "Did you kill the bearer?"

The death eater hesitated. "We tried, my lord, but the ring managed to send him somewhere before we could finish it."

Voldemort growled. "Fool! You should have killed the bearer before you took the ring! But don't worry, you won't fail me again." His thin fingers waved the dark wooden wand. "Avada Kedevra."

The body fell to the ground, still and dead, slowly cooling as the blood ceased to move.

Harry flinched, from where he watched inside Voldemort's eyes. The bearer... who was he talking about?

A rough jolt woke him up, and Harry bolted upright, nearly hitting Ron who had woken him up.

"Whoa there, mate." The red head said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Bad dream."

Harry shook his head. "Strange..." he flung the covers aside. "I have to talk to Hermione."

Ron followed the boy-who-lived to the bathroom. "She's not awake yet."

Harry froze, a tooth brush hanging out of his mouth. He spit and rinsed, before turning to his friend. "Fine," he let out a breath. "Fine. It can wait."

Ron shook his head. "I don't know what's got you so worked up, mate, but you have to take a break. We're going to meet with Dumbledore after breakfast to find out what's going on with the kid, right? Wait until then. I'm sure Dumbledore will know more than Hermione about whatever has got you so worried. Is it something You-Know-Who wants? Someone he's going after?"

Harry shook his head slowly, "No... someone he's already gone after. Someone he hadn't killed, but wanted to..."

The two boys froze. "You don't think...?" they said together, their gazes meeting. The both burst into motion a moment later, rushing down the stairs, gasping. Hermione looked up from where she was curled up with an ancient tomb on one of the Common Room sofas.

"You two are up early." she commented. "What's the rush?"

Ron grabbed her hand, pulling her up and behind them as they ran out of the room. "Harry had a dream last night." he explained quickly. "We think the boy we found last night was attacked by Death Eaters."

Hermione's mouth formed a little "o" as her eyes lit in comprehension. "That makes so much sense!" she exclaimed. "Why else would he have been so injured? It's not like London is over run with magical gangs prone to mugging people. But what did he have that You-Know-Who wanted, and how did he end up at Hogwarts in the first place?"

Harry skid to a stop in front of the Gargoyle that guarded the steps to the Headmaster's office, nearly causing Ron and Hermione to run into him at his abrupt stop. "Cockroach Cluster!" he demanded, remembering the password from the previous day.

The Gargoyle slowly creaked to the side, and Harry dashed in, his friends close behind him.

"Dumbledore!" Harry called up the stairway, "I need to talk to you, sir. I had a dream last night."

He stopped in front of the Headmaster's desk. The old man looked at him with his twinkling over the gold-rimmed glasses that sat on his nose. "I expected you might. Have a seat. Ronald, Hermione, I suspect you'll want to stay... take a seat over there." he gestured at the couch he had conjured for the injured boy the other day. As they both sat down, the Headmaster looked over at Harry again.

"So... Tell me what you saw."

Several minutes later, Dumbledore sat in thought. "Well," he finally sighed. "I must say, this is a turn of events that I hadn't expected. I don't know how Ryou managed to find his way into the forest, but it definitely wasn't the Death Eaters who left him there. They wouldn't have chanced it... and you said that Voldemort called what he stole a ring?"

Harry shook his head. "It wasn't a ring, sir, it was the ring. I didn't see it, but Headmaster, Voldemort seemed confident that it would solve his... situation."

Dumbledore's frowned deepened. "I have no idea what he stole, or why he wanted it. This is worrisome."

A small voice came from a doorway that Harry would have sworn hadn't been there the day before. His sight glued itself to the small opening and couldn't help the feeling that he knew exactly who was speaking. He suspicions were proven correct when the white haired boy they found in the woods peeked his head out.

"Of course." Harry snorted, before looking at the Headmaster. "I thought you said he was going to stay in the infirmary."

Dumbledore hummed. "He didn't like that idea very much." was all he said, and although Harry could tell there was more to the story, it wasn't the time to press. Not while his friends were there, anyway.

"Um..." the boy spoke again, looking between the two. "I think I remember what they stole." He looked down at his hands, where Harry just noticed a piece a paper crumpled in. "Last night, I had a dream." the boy shuddered. "I don't remember what it was about, but this is what I remembered when I woke up."

He handed the paper over to the headmaster. On it, there was a sketch of a piece of jewelry that looked Egyptian in origin. It was a circle with a reversed triangle inside, an eye inscribed in the middle. On the outside of the circle there were five pegs, and Harry's eyes widened in recognition.

"Your chest..." he murmured, and Dumbledore nodded in agreement.

"If that is what Voldemort stole, we have a place to start searching. But the question remains, what is it?"

The boy shrugged, before collapsing to his knees, clutching his head. "It hurts, it hurts. Make it stop, please, I don't want this anymore. Please, I'll do whatever you say, please, please. It hurts. It hurts" He chanted.

Dumbledore leapt up, leaning over the desk waving his wand briskly. He froze for a moment before casting a stupefy on the boy.

"There is some sort of magic on him." The headmaster said, but it's not ours. It isn't wizardry." He sat heavily in his seat. "Fawkes." he finally decided. "Go get Poppy if you would. Have her watch the boy, while I go and find something to block what ever is causing this." Dumbledore paused before he left the room. "And Harry, perhaps it's time for you and your friends to go eat breakfast. There is nothing you can do at the moment."

The trio looked at each other, than at the sleeping body passed out on the floor. Hermione was the first to speak.

"The Headmaster is right." she finally said. "Lets go eat. I'm sure we'll hear more when the Headmaster knows more."

Ron and Harry nodded, and followed her out of the room. Harry cast one look back, before following. There was something strange about that boy, he could feel it.

A/N: I am on a roll! Thank you moonlightskymist for beta-ing for me, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter.

R&R