Chapter 3 of derision and contempt

((Marik/Malik))

(Harry)

/Bakura/

/Ryou/

Yami

Yugi

--pov/scene change—

'thoughts'

"speaking"

--Bakura pov—

I stared in horror at Number 3 Privet Drive. Slowly his head turned left, then right, and back to the house in front of him. He refused to make any sound that could be linked to distress. /Ryou?/ he whispered.

/Hm?/

/Tell me that this is a nightmare and that I'm going to wake up shortly./ I grumbled.

Ryou sighed in exasperation. /Bakura, it isn't that bad./

/Not that bad?! Ryou, these aren't houses! They're molds! All identical! It's disturbing and unnatural for anything to look this perfect./ I snarled, looking around the neighborhood. I could tell that this was not going to be fun. Joy to the world, I was stuck in suburbia. Shoot me now.

"Poor Harii, stuck in this hellhole all his life." Marik? Or was it Malik? muttered.



I looked around me and shuddered. "He's still sane? After living here his whole life? Hmph, kid's got potential to annoy the Pharaoh."

Malik and Marik grinned nastily. "He's quite interested in meeting you, Bakura. Said you sounded really interesting and that Privet Drive would never be the same again after you left, because he highly doubted that you would be able to stay here for a long period of time while still retaining your sanity – or what's left of it, what with having to live in the same city as the Pharaoh and dealing with him on a daily basis."

I smirked. Now the kid really sounded interesting.

"Oh, and Bakura? I suggest bracing yourself for an unpleasant time here. Our little one's family…is not the best to say the least. The two of you have much in common with your pasts." Marik told me quietly.

I turned to look at him in anger and just a bit of wariness. "How much of a past do we have in common, Ishtar?" I really hoped he wasn't saying what I thought he was. I had no problem killing people, but child abuse I could not stand.

He pressed his lips together tightly. "Severe malnutrition, heavy on verbal abuse and hitting, withholding food when chores – which he couldn't do in one day – aren't completed, beaten whenever he does magic, and he's depressed."

I hissed and tossed a calculative glance at Number 4. "And let me guess, the family can do no wrong while the kid is supposedly a juvenile delinquent?" I asked sarcastically.

"Basically."

"So why aren't they dead yet?"

He grinned ferally. "I want to judge them for myself."

I shook my head. "Need some help?"

"If you want to offer it, I'm not refusing assistance. Get to know the kid, he'll grow on you. He's too adorable for anyone with sense not to like him."



I smirked. "Adorable? You actually know what that word means? I'm surprised its even in your vocabulary."

They both mock-glared at me. "Harry is the only reason we know what words like cute and adorable mean. They're best used when describing him. Though don't mention his height – or rather, lack thereof – it's a sore point."

I frowned. "Starvation?"

"Along with being shoved into a cupboard under the stairs to live in for the first ten years of his life." Marik snarled.

My lip curled in disgust. "So when do we get to meet the kid, and what's he look like anyway?"

"We'll get to meet him later, once his relatives are asleep. It will be safer for him that way."

I nodded and gestured to the boxes. "Guess we should start moving before your sister comes yelling."

They snorted in agreement and we picked up our boxes and went in. "From what we've seen, there'll be four bedrooms and two bathrooms – one of which is in the master suite which we are claiming. The smallest bedroom is in the back left, guest bedroom front right, master bedroom back right and another guest room left front. Isis claimed front right guest room so you can have either of the rooms on the left."

I nodded and headed into the bedroom in front. Ryou had already put his stuff there and told me to dump my stuff there as well. "So, what are the Dursleys like?"

Marik sneered. "Rude, ignorant, prejudiced, closeminded, intolerant of anything 'abnormal', greedy – should I go on? His aunt, Petunia, is a housewife who makes good use of her abnormally long neck by spying on neighbors, the cousin, Dudley is a fat lump of a boy, not to mention a bully. The husband, Vernon, is the most abusive and delights in beating Harry whenever something goes wrong. After all, 

it's the freaks' fault that it happened. The neighbors think they are perfectly normal, and such 'kind' and 'generous' people for taking in their trouble making nephew, and they blame any gang activity that happens on Harry. Dudley and his gang used to have this favorite sport of theirs – they call it 'Harry Hunting' – three guesses what that game involved."

"Lovely. I can't wait to meet them." I said, dripping sarcasm as I dropped onto the couch in the living room.

"Malik? You still haven't told us what he looks like." Isis inserted quietly.

He smiled. "He looks nothing like us, Isis. He's petite, and has this black mop of hair that always looks windblown, and these enormous green eyes that remind me of some of the statues of Bastet I've seen. Because of an idiot trying to kill him when he was one, he has a lightning shaped scar on his forehead that links him with the idiot that tried to kill him. Oh, and he has some powerful magic in him."

I looked at him. "You know, most people would mention that first."

He shrugged. "It's not that important to me. He is though."

"Only you Malik, only you," I said, shaking my head. "Most people would be concerned with his power and not the boy himself."

They shrugged. "Their loss," Marik muttered, "is our gain. We know his true value and will appreciate him for what he is, not what he has – though that is nice to know that he isn't defenseless. We'll have to start teaching him soon." Both of them grinned at that thought.

I shuddered. "I don't want to know what you think is powerful, Marik, Malik."

"He is powerful, though. He's the reason we both have a body."

"Don't remind me of that fact – though, the Pharaoh's expression when he saw that there were two of you was beautiful."

"True enough. Shit."



"Hm?"

"Either brace yourself or let Ryou take over. Two pigs and horse have come over to meet us."

Isis moved to get the door, even as it rang and a loud, obnoxious voice said, "Mummy, I don't want to meet the new neighbors! Me and Piers were going to play video games!"

"Mummy knows, and as soon as we introduce ourselves and you meet the new boys – there's three of them – you can go to play at Piers, how's that, hm, sweetums?" a shrill, nasal voice said.

Isis opened the door with a smile and greeted them warmly, "Hello, I'm Isis Ishtar. It's a pleasure to meet you."

I gagged and let Ryou take over, I couldn't stand these people.

--general pov—

Isis moved into the living room, followed by Petunia and Dudley.

"Boys, these our our new neighbors at Number 4, the – "

"Dursleys, I'm Petunia, and this is my son, Dudley."

"Dursleys. Petunia, Dudley, these two – " waving a hand at Malik and Marik, "are my brothers, Malik and Marik. The young man beside them is Ryou Bakura. Boys, say hello to the Dursley's."

"Hn."

"Hello, Mrs. Dursley, Dudley. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"…"

Isis sighed and at Petunia's look, explained, "Marik tends to be the silent one, and Malik the one more likely to speak his mind. I'd ask you if you'd like some tea, but I'm not quite sure just where we put the tea bags in the packing."



"That's quite alright, Ms. Ishtar. We were just planning on dropping by and introducing ourselves. I feel I should warn you though, my nephew, Harry Potter, he's…a bit of a troublemaker here in Surrey. We've tried to be good role models for him, but nothing we do seems to get through to him." Petunia relayed importantly.

"I see. I'll be on the watch for him then, thank you for dropping by. Good day," Isis called as she showed the Dursleys out of the house and shut the door. "I think I need a shower after meeting those two."

Three snorts of derision and contempt greeted her entrance back to the living room. "Either one of us could have told you they were unpleasant, sister."

Isis smiled gently at her brothers. "You're biased."

"True." They smirked in unison. "But they're horrible."

And that ended that discussion.