Um... Malik. And Dumbledore. And stuff. Hey, finally fixed this chapter like I promised I would the day I posted it xD There are still things I would fix if I could, but I have too many chapters written to completely change the plot.
Edits: Do I have to list them? Ugh... The usual tidying, lessening offensive accents, fixing dialogue, filling in plot-holes, making the second meeting a bit more realistic, making Bakura a bit more true to his character, added sense to nonsense, etc.
You're all smart, so I think you know what the italicizing means.
It was late afternoon. He was hot, starving, exhausted, and probably in what had to be the worst mood of his life. And to cap it all off, it almost seemed as if Bakura were enjoying every minute of his misery. But then, Bakura had always been grimly amused by other's misery; this was nothing unusual.
Ryou trudged wearily back up the winding drive of the bed and breakfast, consoling himself with the thought that he'd be able to call a cab from the room and ride back to London in relative comfort.
It took a Herculean effort to climb the stairs (for the wooden porch was set up quite a bit from the ground in order to be on the same level as the front door) and for his huffing, puffing efforts, received a curious stare from the matronly woman in charge. He hardly cared as much as he usually might have. His arms were sore. Not exactly conducive to good manners.
"Where've ya been all day, boy?" she asked him gruffly, a thick brogue coloring her tone.
He sighed. "Got held up at a... relative's house," he grumbled tiredly.
"Well, why didn't ya just stay there?"
"Long story." He offered her a small smile.
She shrugged, unfazed. "Eh, not my business anyway. There's someone to see ya upstairs. Didn't leave a name, but it looked important. 'E's been up there a while now waitin', so I'd get moving if I was you. Said 'e needed to talk to ya." Her thumb jerked in the direction of his room. "I brought 'im upstairs a while ago, but 'e said 'e wasn't expectin' you for a while anyway. Funny man..."
Ryou thanked her, silently resolving to pay her a little extra for her trouble. That is, if he got to pay her at all. Nothing had been going as expected lately after all. It didn't help that, combined with the fact that he now had to meet with some stranger rather than just leave, his luggage felt as though it weighed a hundred pounds. His arms were going to feel just awesome tomorrow... Not a pleasant thought, but not an unbearable one. It could have been worse. At least he hadn't been stabbed and left in a hospital to wonder what the hell had happened while he was blacked out again.
/I told you, hikari, Malik did it/ Bakura said silkily. /And if you recall, I was the one who saved your sorry ass, both on the blimp and in that meeting/
A shiver rolled down Ryou's spine at the memory. /Can we agree to never speak of that again?/
Bakura chuckled in the back of Ryou's head. /Of course, yadonushi. My wish is your command/ He sounded sarcastic, but Ryou would take it.
The room he had awoken in only hours before (although it felt more like an eternity ago) was exactly the same as he had left it, if a bit tidier. Except for the slanted sunlight streaming through the window, thick drapes drawn back and secured in place by a velvety rope tie, and the wizened man seated lightly on the foot of his bed, he could have easily assumed everything had been nothing more than an elaborate dream borne from exhaustion.
But no, he was well awake. The light burning in his muscles and the weight of the ring, ice cold as always, ensured that this was no fantasy. As it was, he blinked vacantly at the unusual guest, completely taken aback by the stranger.
His hair and beard were long and gray, not white like Ryou's own hair, but a fair steely tone dusted with salt and pepper flecks of a slightly darker color. There was a bright, merry twinkle in the rheumy blue eyes hidden behind those half-moon spectacles. The guest doffed his tall, pointy hat upon Ryou's entry and stood to greet the boy warmly with a gentle yet firm handshake. Ryou stared on, dumbstruck.
"Good afternoon," the man began. His voice was soft, the sort of tone that came with great age and the well-practiced patience of those aforementioned great many years. "You would be Ryou Bakura, I'd assume?"
"Uh, yes. That would be me," Ryou stuttered awkwardly. "May I ask who you are?"
The old man laughed. "Forgive an old man his bad manners in times like these. My name is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, but you may call me Professor Dumbledore. Now if I may be so bold as to ask, what would your friend be named?"
Ryou blinked at him blankly for several moments. This was the man who had shielded his powers when he was younger, Ryou was sure of it. He had that same timeless look he had possessed all those years ago. Then he realized that the man was still waiting for an answer. "What are you talking about?" he babbled innocently.
"Now now, Mr. Bakura, I may not be as young as I used to be, but I know you didn't return here alone," Dumbledore mused, sounding rather canny.
"But I am alone," Ryou stated. He could feel Bakura seething at the old man, and struggled to build up a much better facade than earlier's. "I'm sorry, uh... Professor, but I don't know what you're talking about."
Dumbledore's expression grew gravely serious, almost reproachful, before it slipped into an easy, effervescent smile like a switch being pulled. "Of course, I have been known to be mistaken on occasion." Ryou smiled at this, but Dumbledore hadn't yet finished talking. "Still, I don't think it would be safe to leave you to wander the countryside with Voldemort's followers searching for you."
Ryou's eyes widened. "You know about that?"
"My boy, I am very old, and very clever. Where would I be if I didn't know things like this?"
"I don't know, sir. But what am I supposed to do?"
Dumbledore's smile was kind. "It's quite all right, I have a simple solution. You shall accompany me to the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, where you will stay in safety until such time comes that you can attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and I do insist. I daresay you've heard of Hogwarts before?"
Ryou shrugged. The name sounded familiar, but it wasn't something that Ryou knew much about. When he had turned 11, magic school was the last thing on his mind. His mother and sister were dead because of magic. That didn't exactly endear it to him. Then combine that with being trapped in the clutches of a mischievous, often cruel, spirit.
With everyone around him vanishing into comas, the last thing he wanted to do was to go somewhere where they would actually know what was happening. Were that to happen, they would know it was all Ryou's fault, and he would get into trouble. He would lose the millennium ring, and Bakura would be angry with him- angry enough to hurt him. That was frightening enough to keep him moving further and further away from England.
But now Bakura was somewhat under control, Ryou supposed. It had been quite some time since he had last blacked out, and Bakura hadn't sent anyone's souls to the shadow realm in a while. Ryou liked to think that Yuugi's spirit Atemu was helping to keep the thief in line. Now, Ryou couldn't see what could possibly be bad about a school that teaches children how to control their powers. It was at the point where he was rather excited, it meant that he might finally be on par with the incredibly strong Bakura.
He and his spirit understood each other slightly better now, and the hope was that Bakura would know that it would make things more complicated to banish the souls of Ryou's friends to small figurines, causing more harm than help. During that dark, dark time, Ryou had been distraught (tractable, but distraught), and when left with control again, had tried to kill himself more than once in an attempt to stop Bakura (he hadn't always been so, dare he say, comfortable, around his spirit). The boy had even hid in a church, thinking that it would help him. Of course it didn't. But things were different now, Ryou noticed. Their relationship was less parasitic and more founded on mutual gain. Kind of.
Still, switching schools again? Ryou had finally made friends. He didn't want to just give them up, even if the idea of attending Hogwarts was less repulsive and more attractive than it had once been. He'd miss them, and they'd miss him! Well, Malik would miss him, but Malik spent most of his time in Egypt anymore. And Yugi, well, Yugi might miss him. But then again, he was often forgotten in the face of Yuugi's other friends. Jou and Tristan especially, but sometimes Anzu or Duke or even Kaiba.
And then there were those hooded hooligans that were supposedly still after him, or so Dumbledore said...
It took less consideration than Ryou originally thought. It was probably the better choice to go. He would be safe, and he would even have the opportunity to make new friends! Then he'd have Malik and Mariku and whomever he met while there, instead of just the Egyptian pair and Bakura.
Yes, this would be good for him!
"I take it you have," Dumbledore mentioned with a small chuckle, noticing the grin rapidly spreading across the boy's face. "It isn't too late to attend, you know. I'll just have to remove that spell on you..." he mused, more to himself than anything else.
He held out an arm to Ryou, but the boy stared up at him with a slightly fearful look on his face. Bakura hadn't been nauseous after traveling with Ryou's uncle, but then, the spirit had been accustomed to all forms of pain and illness, having grown up in a time without modern medicine. Ryou had been miserable afterwards, and he had only gotten the last few waves.
"Oh, don't care for side-along apparition?"
"Not really, sir," Ryou mumbled. He much preferred Bakura's mode of transportation even though it was cold and miserable in the shadows. However, it only worked for short distances and when Bakura felt that the expenditure of energy was worth it, so Ryou didn't get to use it often. It was still better than aparating. Dumbledore smiled again.
/He's another of those wizard-ma-call-its you're related to, isn't he?/ Bakura grumbled.
/Just wizards, Bakura. And yes. My dad told me about him- he's the most powerful wizard there ever was. I didn't see why that mattered before, but now.../ Ryou let his thoughts taper off.
Bakura smirked. /Are you scared of that Voldy-whatsit?/ he asked tauntingly. /He's nothing, you know. I could take care of him any day/
/You said you would stop killing people!/
/I insinuated it to appease you. I never promised/ Bakura chuckled quietly to himself. /And anyway, there's no need to go with Dumbly-dorf. He already suspects my existence; there's no need to prove him right. We should go now/
/It's Dumbledore, and I don't-/
"Ryou, is everything alright?" Dumbledore asked, derailing the entire railroad crossing of thought.
Ryou started and glanced guiltily up at the elderly-looking man. "Just fine. Sorry, sir, I got lost in my thoughts," he apologized gently.
"Not a problem. It happens to the best of us." Dumbledore held out his arm again and Ryou took it hastily, trying to ignore the squeamish feeling that curdled in his gut like sour milk at the mere thought of 'side-along appariting' again. Bakura grumbled in displeasure, and Ryou tried to ignore him. Bakura didn't like being taken off again to places unknown, but Ryou was even less fond of the idea of being hunted down by that scary snake-man's cronies. Dumbledore was offering him safety and protection that Ryou would be stupid not to take.
/Safety that I can provide just fine by myself/
Ryou forced a smile onto his face. "Professor Dumbledore? Would it be possible to stop by my house first? I'd really like to get more of my things. I just have the one suitcase."
"Of course. Simply concentrate on the location, and I'll guide us there," Dumbledore replied. Was it that simple? Ryou couldn't remember all of the ins and outs of magic, but he did recall his father mentioning once or twice in his early childhood how difficult it was. His eyes closed tightly, and he pictured the entry of the apartment he usually lived in alone.
One resounding 'POP' later, Ryou found himself standing in the exact same spot he had imagined, head whirling and stomach heaving. His apartment wasn't as empty as he had expected. Just inside of his bedroom, Ryou could hear the light hammering of fingers tapping on keys in rapid, easy succession, a soft hum wavering between the sounds in a gentle, carefree melody. There was somebody in his house, and that somebody was singing low under their breath.
"Malik?" Ryou called, and the keys stopped. There was a loud crash, and in moments a bounding blond boy had tackled Ryou to the floor and enclosed him in his arms in a tight embrace.
"Ryouuuuu! You're back! I didn't even hear you come in! Did Bakura bring you back? That was really nice of him!" Malik babbled, still straddling Ryou.
"Uhm, Malik?" Ryou cleared his throat loudly and glanced pointedly at Dumbledore, who seemed to be chuckling quietly to himself. Malik stood up hastily, a flash of white teeth still exposed in a wide smirk. "Why are you smiling like that?" he asked cautiously.
Malik's grin grew wider. The sound of more clicks filled the air, and the rat-a-tat-tat of keys continued again.
Ryou groaned. "Are you and Mariku doing what I think you're doing?" he protested.
"Yup, but you're too late! Mariku's finishing up now!" he chuckled. Ryou pouted. The last time his computer had been left unattended in the hands of the Egyptian light and dark duo, it had been filled with a substantial amount of R rated content, of both the homoerotic and horror varieties, that Malik had taken a liking to. Just his luck. Gone for a few days, and Malik was porning up his computer. He hoped he didn't get a virus, he thought sourly.
"So what's with the old guy?" Malik drawled casually, wrapping a friendly arm around Ryou as he changed the subject.
"He wants to take me to a special school," Ryou said. He pushed the arm away, stubbornly trying to ignore Malik's attempts to make amends with affectionate gestures. Malik dodged and wrapped the other around Ryou's waist, turning them both to face away from Dumbledore.
"Really? I always knew you were special," Malik said.
Ryou groaned. "Not that kind of special. It's for magic."
"Fuck yeah! Think I could go?"
"I don't know," Ryou said, glancing up at Dumbledore. "You could probably ask, but... this school is weird. I don't think they know about shadow magic. I think it's all about a different kind. Something you're born with."
"That sucks. It's practically racist against shadow magic," Malik said.
He didn't seem remotely phased that Ryou had suggested a new type of magic. Suddenly, Ryou was extremely glad he was talking to Malik and not someone else. With Malik, nothing seemed impossible. Non-existent creatures? Standard fare. Non-shadow magic? No biggie. Ryou could have hugged him for taking it so easily.
"But wait, what about the you-know-what with your you-know-what?" Malik asked in a conspiratorial whisper, cupping a hand around Ryou's ear to block the sound. "The Game King won't be there to help you. And what if the old guy finds out?"
Ryou's eyes flashed. "I think he does suspect something's up, but he has magic of his own. It'll be okay," Ryou whispered back. He stepped away from his friend and smiled again. "It'll be just fine. I'll make sure Bakura behaves. And I doubt you have to talk in code, I don't think he speaks Japanese."
Malik only laughed. Arms wrapped around them both and pulled them close to a warm body that smelled of shadow magic (a curiously sensual aroma that for some reason always reminded Ryou of a dark shade of purple) and sand. Very like Bakura, only with more sand than magic.
"Hey, Ryou, how pissed would Bakura be if he saw how close we are to you?" Mariku asked snidely. Bakura always got ticked off when people were close to his host, and the two knew it and enjoyed testing the boundaries.
"Well, right now he's seething in anger, so I'd say very," Ryou replied. "Poor spirit. He already had to spend half of the day in a solid body so that nobody would get suspicious, only to have everything go to hell at the last minute. But I'm sure he'll calm down eventually. I'm going to go pack now. And Malik? Go home. I don't want to have to delete half of a computer's worth of data because it isn't safe for innocent eyes."
"But you said you enjoyed the pictures! You thought they were cool!" Malik took one look at Ryou's glare (of course borrowed from Bakura, who was used for the express purpose of twisting Ryou's features into something that was actually imposing with the skill only Bakura could possess) and revised his statement. "Fine, I'll go. But Ryou, I'll miss you so much!" he cried dramatically, throwing his arms around Ryou as if he were feeling faint.
"I'll miss you too. But you don't have to go right this second you know. You can help me pack," Ryou informed him. Malik squealed in delight and dragged Ryou to his bedroom.
"Oh my Ra, Ryou. I'm going to make you the most fashionable person at- wait. Where is this school? And anyway, what's it called?" he demanded.
"It's called Hogwarts. Remember when I explained what little I could remember about magic? Not the shadow stuff, but the good stuff my mom and dad used to do?" He nodded. "There's a school that teaches kids how to control it. I ran into a little trouble back in England and he said it would be safe there."
Mariku laughed aloud. "Haha, Ryou! The thief took you all the way to Europe? That's hilarious!"
"He didn't get you hurt, did he? And what did he need all the way out there?" Malik said, ignoring his yami. He had begun to help Ryou stuff the remaining clothes into another suitcase. Ryou was pleased to note that the sleeping pills were already in the other suitcase.
"I'm fine, but I don't even know. I'm actually really confused about it myself. But it'll be fun. And hey! I promise I'll visit you over Christmas holiday," Ryou said, perking up immensely at the thought.
"Will they let you go?" Malik asked, looking almost too excited by the prospect to dare to hope.
"I'm sure they will. Most schools in England have a holiday in December."
Malik cheered. "Yes! We can spend that time scrambling around the pyramids! And maybe the thief will join us in breaking into a few that those silly archaeologists can't seem to get into," Malik said delightedly. Mariku seconded the notion. Bakura muttered 'moochers' under his breath.
Ryou finished shoving the rest of his things in his bag and pulled Malik into a tight hug. "Thanks for being so cool about this, Malik."
"No problem! We hikaris gotta stick together, you know. Thick and thin and all that bullshit."
Bakura growled something irritable about packing more knives, which Ryou ignored until Bakura stole control of his hand and did if for him, slipping several into hidden pockets in the suitcase. Mariku smirked from the corner, but Malik gave him a knowing, almost apologetic nod.
They exchanged smiles and walked back out to the main room. Dumbledore seemed to be closely examining a photograph taken in Egypt. There were many figures contained inside of it, Ryou himself, Bakura, Malik, Mariku, Yuugi, and Yami, as well as the rest of the gang. Along the edges, one could just make out the faces of Rishid and Ishizu. Bakura and Mariku happened to bomb this particular photo, and Ryou doubted the gang had even seen this one. It had been taken on his last official trip to Egypt, the one he had taken with all of his friends. They decided to go back once after they had managed to stop Bakura, forever or so they thought, and had been very successful. It was celebratory.
It had been a great trip, even though Ryou hadn't been able to see his father again (the man was busy working out at the dig site). He had gotten to hang out with Malik, though. Ever since then, Ryou had exchanged a steady stream of letters, calls, and emails with the Egyptian boy. Sometimes Malik even flew out to Japan to see Ryou. Bakura liked to tease him about it for some reason, but Ryou didn't see why he bothered.
Bakura was just angry that the tomb keepers locked up the tomb with a key that mysteriously vanished sometime after they left. He knew Bakura was still scheming, but didn't think his yami had much of a chance of being victorious this time around either.
"I'll write you!" Ryou called, stepping back over to Dumbledore and taking the picture from him. It was stowed away in the bag as well after a brief, fond glance.
The man didn't disapparate immediately. Instead, he said, "Ryou, your exuberant friend will be returning to Egypt soon, I presume? Could you please ask him to pass on a message?"
Surprised, he gave a small, nonplussed nod. "Sure, but how did you know he was going back to Egypt?"
"I think you'll find I'm fairly familiar with the clans of tomb keepers. I've never met your friend Mr. Ishtar, but I'm sure he can help. If you could, tell him to inform your father to expect an owl."
"I can speak a little English," Malik said with a small pout, his words thickly accented. "I can tell him."
"Thanks, Malik," Ryou replied, switching back to Japanese to make it easier on the boy who, as aforementioned, spoke very limited English. "And tell my dad I'm sorry, and that I'll write him about this, too."
"No problem! Bye, Ryou! And you better write me all the time, or I'll ask Mariku to fill your computer with more prons! Then you'll be sorry!"
Ryou laughed, forgetting for a moment all of his discomfort as he disapparated. When they hit the ground again, however, all of that queasiness returned in a flash. His empty stomach heaved dryly, failing ultimately to retch the malcontent away. Soon, though, he settled down, and when he finally felt as though his stomach was through trying to leap out through his throat, he straightened up stiffly and struggled to pull on a weak smile to show he was fine.
A hand patted his shoulder gently, reassuringly, and Dumbledore began to speak. "Listen close, because I'll only say this once," he warned. Ryou nodded to show he was paying attention. "The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, London. Remember it well and never share it with anyone."
"But there is no twelve," Ryou pointed out softly, looking intently at first the eleven, then the thirteen.
"Just watch," Dumbledore chuckled. Buildings began to shift, easing gently away from each other. Around them, people surged and cars rolled by, but they seemed oblivious to the rapidly expanding wall spanning between the two buildings. Even when it popped forward, sprouting windows and a door decorated with more of the scrawling wrought iron that seemed to be so popular around wizarding houses, they paid it no mind. A small '12' glittered by the door.
That answered that, Ryou supposed. Bakura seemed gleeful at the magical display for reasons Ryou failed to understand. He was steered across the street and led up the stone-block steps until he was standing inside.
Dumbledore stared at him levelly for a second before drawing out his wand, placing the tip on Ryou's fair forehead. His eyes crossed as they attempted to stare up at the now-glowing tip. The old wizard's face contorted into an expression of confusion.
"How strange. The spell I put on you seems to be gone."
"And that's bad?" Ryou asked.
Dumbledore chuckled. "Not necessarily. Only strange, my boy. You see, that spell was designed to be a paradox. The only way save myself of removing it would be if you were to remove it from yourself. Since the spell was designed to block your magic, it should be impossible. No, it's only highly curious." There was a small flash of suspicion in those watery blue eyes, but it was hidden well, and Ryou nearly missed it. "Stay here for a moment," Dumbledore warned, walking into another room and leaving him alone. Ryou leaned against a nearby wall and sighed.
/Was this your doing?/ Ryou asked.
/Not mine. I didn't even know you had a spell on you. It would explain why this body is so weak, though.../ Bakura mused back.
Ryou's nose crinkled instinctively at the dig. /It's just strange is all/ he said. But when had the spell disappeared? When he had first played with the whispers of darkness? When Bakura bid him to assist with the retrieval of that weird non-bone? Or perhaps long before that, when the ring had first slipped around his neck and he had fallen down the proverbial rabbit hole? He was quiet for a moment, then sighed again.
These were thoughts that hed never considered before. They had never been an issue. But now, with all of the fast-paced nonsense flooding around him, the seemingly-ever-changing surroundings that Ryou was finding himself in lately, it had much more gravity to it than Ryou had ever given it before.
/You know, hikari, we'd be home right now if you hadn't stopped me/ Bakura said loftily, picking up on the turn Ryou's emotions were taking. /Having any regrets?/
/No, it's not that I regret it, it's just that... I don't know/
/Well if you aren't having any second thoughts, then you shouldn't act as mopey. It's annoying when you're depressed over petty things/
Ryou rolled his eyes. Bakura was doing that a lot lately. Saying something that was almost kind, and pulling the rug out from beneath Ryou by having purely selfish motives after all. Before he could respond, however, a girl with flaming red hair poked her head around a corner with a call of 'Harry?'. Her cheeks were a light red color that flushed darker when she saw Ryou.
"Sorry?" he asked questioningly, pointing at himself in confusion. She didn't reply, and instead chose to take off in a hurry, leaving him again alone. Another girl appeared, this one a brunette, at the top of the stairs.
"Did someone say Harry?" she asked.
"Harry's here?" a lanky redheaded boy added, stumbling into sight behind the girl.
"Uh..." Ryou began intelligently.
"Obviously not, Ron," the girl replied curtly to the other boy, descending the flight of stairs to stand before Ryou. "Don't mind them, we're all just waiting for a friend of ours to arrive. And who are you?" Her voice was much kinder as she said the last part, softening it in response to the obvious surprise and, admittedly, fear. He hadn't realized there would be so many people here.
"Oh, well, my name is Bakura Ryou," he said in a tiny voice. He offered them a small bow in greeting, blushing in embarrassment when he saw their confused looks. Perhaps it would be smart to shake hands in the foreseeable future, Ryou mused miserably. And he had forgotten to switch his name again. He corrected it quickly, sure his cheeks were even redder than the ginger girl from earlier.
"I don't get it, which name's which?" the red-haired one asked, scratching his head.
"Sorry, I'm in England but my mind's in Japan!" he said, trying to laugh at himself. The girl seemed to understand, but the boy still looked as though he didn't understand. "My given name is Ryou," he said, to clarify.
The brown-haired girl smiled at him. "I'm Hermione Granger."
"Ron Weasley," the boy added.
"And the girl was Ginny, Ron's sister. She's a little shy," Hermione said. "If you don't mind me asking, does that mean you're Japanese? If you are, your accent is very good. I couldn't tell you weren't from around here."
"Oh, well, I've only lived in Japan for a few years, so that might be it," Ryou mumbled timidly. "I was born here, but I... moved. A lot."
"Mr. Bakura? If you would please join us in here for a moment?" Dumbledore asked suddenly, poking his head around the door and interrupting the conversation.
Ryou blinked owlishly. "Of course," he replied.
"Professor? I'd like to talk to you about Harry-" Hermione began, but she was cut off.
"I'm sorry, Ms. Granger, but you know the rules. I cannot allow you to give away anything important in your letters. Harry is safe, and that's all that matters at the moment." This was said with enough finality that the girl didn't bother protesting. She nodded glumly and sighed. With no further ado, Ryou moved his hand in a small 'goodbye' gesture, leaving his suitcases in the hall to join the wizard in what appeared to be a dining room full of a motley crew of strange characters.
This was turning into a familiar thing for Ryou- being led into all of these mysterious meetings. It was starting to get annoying, actually. Everything had to be so damn confusing, what with all of these secret organizations and alien, non-shadow magic. It was enough to make anyone's head spin. Apparently, wizards were very clique-y. Ryou made a mental note to remember that.
Dumbledore closed the door behind him, turning to face the group. Ryou could almost swear he saw a small flash of something flesh-toned wink into sight as the ajar door's crack turned to a smooth seam of wood meeting wood. It looked like an ear. Ryou shook himself, almost chuckling at his foolishness. An ear... he must be going crazy.
Somebody gestured to a chair at the head of the table, and Ryou took a seat. Everyone leered at him. And to think he had thought that the last meeting had felt like an interrogation! But it wasn't a thing like the other meeting. Where nearly everyone had been terrified of the man, Voldemort, who was unquestionably the leader, here, there seemed to be an easy awe and warm respect for Dumbledore. The old man was trusted, relied upon.
But when Ryou said motley crew, he wasn't kidding.
Around the table, there sat a gnarled, middle-aged man with a chunk missing from his nose and deep scars cut into his face. Most notable, however, was the strange, electric blue eye that whirled and spun in an artificial socket. There was also a girl who looked only a few years older than him with a shock of chartreuse hair whose color almost put Yuugi's to shame. In fact, Ryou didn't think he'd ever seen hair such a brilliant shade of green this far from Japan. The girl winked at him, catching his surprised look, and her hair rippled and shifted to a bright bubblegum pink. His jaw unabashedly fell open at this.
She sat near a gaunt man who looked like he'd missed one too many meals and baths. A tall, lean man with skin darker that even Malik's bronze skin sat beside the sickly man, and the next people were a slightly plump woman with bright red hair and what appeared to be her husband. More people sat beside them, and Ryou gave each person a brief, cursory glance as he took in each occupant.
There were more people than he had initially realized. Some even stood, since there weren't enough chairs. Not all of them looked nice, though, especially not the pale man with long black hair and a cruel-looking hooked nose. Something about the man's face looked familiar. A wolfish man was staring curiously at him from the other side of the room.
"So, Mr. Bakura," Dumbledore began, looking as though he were doing his best to appear light and friendly, though it contrasted with the stern tone he had used only moments before. "Do you think you could answer a few of our questions?"
"Really, Dumbledore, give the boy a break! The poor dear looks terrified, he probably doesn't understand a thing about what's going on," the redheaded woman protested automatically.
Dumbledore gave her a small smile and shook his head. "Sorry Molly, but I'm afraid that it is a necessary precaution. Now, Ryou, I believe we should start from the beginning, as all the best stories do. Tell me, how much do you know of the millennium ring you wear around your neck?"
Ryou's heart dropped and his eyes grew wide. The ring glinted innocuously in the low light. 'So they knew,' Ryou mused miserably. 'Dumbledore really did know I wasn't alone.' But that still begged the question, just how much did Dumbledore know? It was Malik and his family's job to keep all information on the items hidden, and he'd never known them to be overtly lax. /Test him, why don't you?/ Bakura grumbled, startling Ryou.
/Alright. He might not even know much about it- that could be why he's asking me/ Ryou agreed easily after only a brief moment of thought. It was the only thing that made sense. So Ryou did the first thing that occurred to him- he played stupid. "Well, it's from Egypt, right?" he said innocently. "And it's really old?"
"Precisely, Ryou. And it contains a very dark magic. In fact, I believe it is something called a horcrux, which is an object in which someone has sealed a portion of their soul. I have reason to believe you are possessed by a fragment of a very evil soul who happens to inhabit it."
/There goes the 'not knowing too much about' thing you were talking about/ Bakura said bluntly. /Tell them too, why don't you? You've already given everything away at that last meeting we attended. And there's a double agent in here anyway/
/Really?/ Ryou asked, surprised.
/Yes, and you'd know that if you bothered to pay attention. Hook-nose over there was at the last meeting. Obviously someone's being betrayed. Plus that Dumbledorf was obviously faking everything earlier. You and Malik probably gave everything away, and it wouldn't surprise me if he knew enough Japanese to understand everything you two said/ Bakura added.
Ryou sighed. As his evil spirit liked to say, 'Bakura knows best'. The funny thing was the he did tend to be right, so Ryou had no reason to argue the point, at least, not right now. So Ryou did as Bakura suggested. And really, how bad could it be? Worst case scenario, Bakura would take them back to Japan again. His yami would just hide them in the shadows for a while until the chaos died down and they could go back to life as usual. Bakura was good at that, and Ryou was no stranger to it either.
"Yes," Ryou breathed simply after the (to everyone else) long period of silence. This surprised everyone. Well, everyone but Dumbledore, who only sighed. The greasy-haired man sneered as though he weren't surprised either.
Dumbledore sighed. "I figured as much from your conversation with the young Mr. Ishtar."
/Told you so/
/Don't even go there/ Ryou sighed.
"I have to ask- how much control does he have over you? What sort of powers does he possess?"
/How much do you want to tell them?/
/Tell them everything. Yeah, and then tell them that I'm a fluffy bunny, I enjoy using the song 'In the Jungle' to mask the screams of my victims, and that you're secretly Canadian/
/Sooo... as little as possible?/
/What else, hikari?/
/Just checking... No need to get testy/
/I'm sure you'd be a bit testy too if you had to put up with morons day in and day out/
/They aren't that bad!/
/I wasn't talking about them/ Bakura chuckled.
Ryou flushed and wracked his brains for something he could say without getting in trouble with either Bakura or Dumbledore. "Well, um... what all do you already know about him? I don't want to repeat something you already know," he said, succeeding in sounding sufficiently apologetic.
Dumbledore's kind smile, however, told Ryou that he fully understood that Ryou was lying through his teeth but wouldn't press since the others had obviously yet to realize. "Severus has kindly informed me that he seems to be able to manifest a solid body and can manipulate a sort of magic that appears to be unique to this world. He also looks very similar to you, and it would seem he is able to somehow communicate silently with you based off the way your eyes go unfocused for long periods of time before answering. Does all this match up with the horcrux's abilities?"
/And he's figured it all out because of your face. Nice going/ Bakura said scathingly.
Ryou's nose scrunched up in irritation. /Maybe if you weren't so chatty today we wouldn't have this problem/
/Hey, don't turn this on me. You're the one who's supposed to keep your nose clean and out of trouble, so get us out of this. Or do you want me to take over?/
/Uh, no, um, I don't think that will be necessary. I'll take care of this. And DON'T HURT ANYONE/ Ryou thought, feeling his eyes widen instinctively.
/Awww, is cute little hikari trying to give big-boy orders now?/
/I'm going to ignore you now/
/Good luck with that/ Ryou clasped his hands together pointedly, trying to tune the voice out. /And it isn't working, is it?/
"Well, yes, that's... right. But I usually call the spirit Bakura," Ryou said through clenched teeth, making an effort to block Bakura.
"Odd, isn't it, to call him by your own given surname?"
/Why does everyone think you named me?/ Bakura sighed sarcastically.
"I didn't. That was his name when he was alive," Ryou said simply. "Since people assumed he was me anyway, he continued to use the name."
/Other names for me include Koe, Yami, Yami no Bakura, Spirit of the Millennium Ring, Touzoku-ou, Akefia, Thief King, Tomb Robber, Stealer of Souls, Master of the Shadow Realm, Future King of the World, and so on. You, however, usually call me Bakura, 'Kura, Mou Hitori no Boku, Aibou, or Koibito/ Bakura teased.
"Bakura!" Ryou yelled suddenly, clutching his head in a sudden flash of anger.
/Ah, my hikari is mad. What is it this time?/
"When have you ever gone by any of those?" he said, forgetting to send it via mind-link. "And I've never called you Koibito! That's- that's- bleh!"
/You just did. Inadvertently/
"Shut it, Bakura," Ryou grumbled, defeated and giving up. It was pointless to fight Bakura like this. Everyone was staring at him. "What? He's very annoying. He's listing all the names he likes to go by," he added, noting the mystified expressions.
"And those would be?"
/Future King of the World. C'mon, hikari, tell them. Future King of the World. Five words. Do it, I dare you/ Ryou sighed. "Far too many to bother listing."
/No way in hell am I calling you Future King of the World/
/You're such a spoilsport, you know?/
/You're darn right/
/I think you meant damn skippy, but it works well enough I suppose/
/Why are you so cavalier about all of this? I'd expect something like this from Mariku, but never from you. I thought you liked being secretive/
/I do. However, I think that it would be good for you to go to this school, so chatter away as you usually do. Get them to trust you. I don't get how, but you're somehow better at that than I am/
/Really? You want me to go? Why? What's in it for you?/
/Don't you worry your pretty little head/
Ryou frowned. Bakura had to have some sort of reason for wanting Ryou to learn magic. Probably so Bakura could use it. If the last meeting had been anything to go off of, Ryou had been wrong about the goodness of 'his' magic. It wasn't all healing. It could cause pain and destruction if it wanted to, and Bakura wanted this power. Now it all made sense. Ryou sighed.
Wonderful. Bakura finally wanted the same thing Ryou did. Shame he planned on using it for evil. Otherwise everything would have been absolutely perfect. But no, things were never quite that easy. He put his head in his hands and groaned to himself.
/Just do it, Hikari. You want this magic. I want this magic. Gain their trust and go to their school. Everything can fall into place later. I know you want to, Hikari. Plus, I do enjoy the notoriety. It just isn't as fun when nobody sees me as a legitimate threat. Even that idiot Pharaoh knows the value of having your enemies fear you, and if they think I'm some diabolical monster, they'll see you as some scared little sacrificial lamb I'm going to slaughter for my own ends. They won't do a damn thing to you/
/You won't really slaughter me like a sacrifice, will you?/
/If you're wondering if I think of you as a lamb, then ask yourself- am I a sheep? Bear in mind that sheep are mindless animals that follow the flock by instinct with no mind of their own and thus all deserve to die horrible, painful deaths/
/... No?/
/Good answer./
"I take it you have no way of tuning him out?" Dumbledore asked.
Ryou shook his head. "He can block me from hearing him sometimes, but for the most part, our minds are open books. His thoughts are mine, and mine are his."
"Do you ever struggle to remain yourself under such a dark influence?" someone off to the side asked. He looked like he'd be one of the aurors his father had mentioned once, years ago. He had a steadiness to his eyes and a calm, collected mind that rationalized everything that seemed like it would aid such a career choice.
How did Ryou gain trust? Honesty, honesty, honesty. "I used to. He made me suicidal for the longest time," he said lightly, not noticing the horror-struck expressions on several faces, "but he's been around for so long that he's become a fixture in my mind. I don't know what I'd do without him. No, I'm myself. Actually, I'm myself now thanks to him. Our souls are kinda like two pieces that fit together perfectly, but without each other, are almost incomplete in a way. He may be evil, but I am, as Bakura likes to put it, 'incorruptible'. I'm sorta the 'yang' to his 'yin', if you will. Or... What did you call it, Bakura?"
/Half a soul reincarnate/ Bakura supplied. /That, I believe, is the technical term. Though I refuse to believe some like you is my reincarnation/
Ryou repeated the words aloud, nodding. Several people seemed deeply troubled by this. The red-haired woman looked as if she were about to pitch a fit.
"Bakura can be mean, and he certainly has some evil plans, but he isn't all bad. Sometimes... sometimes I wonder if has a real reason for doing what he does. Everything he does, he does with one goal in mind, to hurt someone I'm friends with. Not like that, I mean a specific friend. But what I mean is that he pursues people who have... wronged him, in some way. And this friend... well, actually, he's done nothing wrong, but... I honestly don't know. I don't know why Bakura hates him. I just don't know. I wish I did. But except for him, only people who wrong Bakura in some way face his wrath. I... just realized this. Just now," Ryou said softly, staring at his hands.
/Maybe, just maybe, that Ra-damned Pharaoh did do something. Ever think about that?/ Bakura growled.
/Sometimes/
"One time... one time there were these bullies. They beat me black and blue every single day at school. My bruises had bruises. Eventually Bakura found out. Then one day, I blacked out, and they never messed with me again. I feel awful about it, but..."
"Is there any way to separate the two of you? Make it so he can't take you over anymore?" the now-pink-haired woman asked.
Ryou shook his head. "No, shadow magic doesn't work that way. I don't think it's possible. The thing about Bakura is that he has very sticky fingers. Once he takes something, he doesn't like to give it back. Not only are our minds and souls... connected, Bakura would never voluntarily leave his host. It's why you won't be able to separate us," Ryou finished, finally taking into account the others' expressions.
It was as plain as day on their faces- they wanted to destroy Bakura. And Bakura wasn't particularly pleased by their faces. In fact, they annoyed him quite a bit. There was a reason Ryou had once called Bakura bipolar. He could switch between contentedness and fury at the drop of a pin, and then back again.
"Shadow magic? You say that as though it's something completely different. What do you mean? What is it?" an unkempt raven-haired man asked. He had a wolfish appearance to him and looked like he hadn't seen the light of day in a while. Ryou really wished they'd wear name tags, or introduce themselves.
"Well, I don't know everything about your magic, but his magic is different. I call it shadow magic because that's what it is.
/Alright, chatterbox, slow down/ Bakura warned. /Talk about me all you like, there's nothing they can do to me. But shadow magic affects more than you and me, and they could probably do something to it if they wanted/
"I really can't give too much more than that away," Ryou added, almost apologetically. "But how did you know about him at all?"
Dumbledore chuckled. "As I've said before, I know a great many things and speak a great many languages," he added with a wink. "I've heard rumors, but I did hope they weren't true. I only realized the full truth when Severus came forward and informed me of what happened today," Dumbledore mentioned, gesturing to the decidedly unpleasant-looking man with the hook-nose.
So Bakura had been right after all. It took Ryou a second to see it, but this man was quite distinctive. It was a wonder he hadn't figured out before that this Severus person had also been at the first meeting. Ryou didn't hesitate to point this out, but it only made Dumbledore laugh.
"Yes, Severus has Voldemort convinced that he is loyal only to him, but he is still a member of the Order," Dumbledore replied.
"He's a double agent?" Ryou asked, silver brows rising.
Dumbledore chuckled, while Severus glared. "You could say that," Dumbledore said. "At any rate, Severus has already informed me of what occurred earlier today. I simply needed to hear from you about your 'spirit', since I trust you would know better than anyone about him."
"I guess so..." Ryou said. "But that still doesn't explain why you're asking me all these questions."
"It's because we may need your assistance. We already had a fairly good idea of the situation, but we needed to get a scope of the malignant soul before we could ask."
/Why does everyone want our help?/
/Because we're dead sexy. Obviously/
"Well, we might be able to help... I mean, Bakura's cooperation mostly depends on what it is, but I'd love to help however I can. I really would like to go to Hogwarts and make some new friends. But Bakura would only do it if it was worth his while, and there isn't much that he wants."
"Is he nearby? Could you ask him if he'd be willing to assist us?"
Ryou smiled. "Oh, he's right here," he said, tapping his forehead with his index finger. "He doesn't like me being in situations like these, so he doesn't dare leave me alone. He says I'm so innocent and naive I could get the body injured, so he's making sure nothing happens to me."
"Is he usually so protective of you?"
"Pretty much. Otherwise, he'd probably be looting this house for valuables," Ryou mentioned, picking up a discarded piece of silverware that had been left on the table near where he sat. "Is this real silver? I bet it is... Bakura likes silver almost as much as gold," he said almost fondly.
/You're correct on both accounts/ Bakura said with a wry smirk. /Quick, tuck it in your pocket when they aren't looking!/
/I'm not stealing from them/ he replied, placing it gingerly back on the table.
"Ah, Bakura's a very bad influence. I don't condone thievery in the least, but he's almost impulsive about it. Did you know he taught me how to pick pockets? Apparently if you place seven bells on a suit jacket and can steal a wallet without making even one of them ring, you're ready for real people? He's terrible. Modern times have nothing on his title, Touzoku-ou. It means 'King of Thieves, if you didn't know."
"What you're saying is that he's very selfish and possessive, correct?" Dumbledore mused. "If something were to happen to you, Bakura would stand between it?"
Ryou nodded. A small smile grew on Dumbledore's lips.
/I don't like where this is going/ Bakura said.
"Then this makes things very simple. I was worried that it would be more difficult. There is a boy named Harry Potter, and I would like your help watching out for him. From what little I've heard of the item you wear around your neck, I know that it is very powerful. If you could ingratiate yourself as a friend, you would hopefully provide another layer of protection. You see, Voldemort wishes very much to kill the boy, and we can't allow that to happen at a time like this. Everything we have worked for would be lost. If you could convince the soul, or even tap into the reservoir of power stored in the item, then hopefully you can help watch out for him. These are dangerous times, Mr. Bakura, and we could use the help."
"But how is that simple?" Ryou asked worriedly.
"If the soul is willing to kill to protect you, the hope stands that if something dire happens to Harry, the same courtesy would be extended to him as well."
"You want to use the boy as a shield?" someone asked, outraged.
"Calm down, Sirius, that isn't what I meant. Didn't the boy just say he wanted friends? And wouldn't you say that Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter, and Ms. Granger are a very accepting group?"
/He's meddling. I don't like him/
/But he's a good guy, I can tell. He's just looking out for that Harry person/
/I still don't like it. He's asking me to look out for that Potter boy like he's someone who can change everything with his death. It would be like me asking that Moldymort freak to make sure Yugi never so much as stubs his toe. I'm not gonna do it, hikari, you can tell him that right now. I'm an ass, but I'm not that much of an ass to people who share even a little of my idealism. Moldymort's a moron, but at least he isn't all goody-goody like the happy-go-lucky friendly little duel group you like so much/
/C'mon, please Bakura? You didn't even like Voldemort/
/I think I like him better than I like Dumbledorf/ Bakura growled. /He's at least a little more straightforward in what he wants. Doesn't act all sneaky-like/
"Mr. Bakura? Ryou?" Dumbledore said, attracting Ryou's attention back to the situation at hand. He sounded as if he had been calling for a while. "What did he say?"
"He was telling me doesn't want to," Ryou said. "But I'll try and bring him around. I really do want to help you. I don't like that Voldemort and I want to do what I can to stop him."
"A noble aspiration, to be sure. This is excellent news. However, there is a catch. I would rather you not tell anyone outside of this room about this just yet. Can I trust you with this, Mr. Bakura?"
"Yes, you can. I won't tell them," he said. "I've only told a few people, and then they already knew about it anyway."
"Perfect. This meeting is over, then. Good luck."
/Hikari, you officially suck/
After Ryou had been swept into the meeting, Hermione and Ron were left alone in the hall to wonder what was happening. One of the aurors shooed them away after noticing them lingering there, and forced them to return to the top of the stairs to think about the strange events that had just occurred.
"Hey, 'Mione, are there any magic schools in Japan?" Ron asked.
Hermione shook her head. "Sorry, Ron, I don't know. I don't think so, though, I'm sure I would have read about it before."
"Weird... I wonder what he's doing in there. Hey, what're Fred and George doing?" Ron asked, glancing up another flight of stairs to see his twin brothers with something held between their fingers. It was lowering slowly down towards the door, reaching doorknob level at about the same time the door swung shut.
"I don't know," she said, starting to climb up to them. "But it can't be good, whatever it is." She tapped one of them on the shoulder and both turned to face her with broad grins. "What are you two up to?"
"We're testing something out," one began.
"But it isn't working right," the other finished.
"What is it? Can I see?" Ron asked.
"Hermione, you know a lot of spells don't you?" Fred asked.
"I know a few," she replied tentatively, not fully sure she would approve of exactly what it is the twins were doing.
They grinned at her mischievously. "We just need something to amplify sound a little more. Sonorus just isn't working enough," George mentioned.
"Are you using it on voices or on general sound? Because Sonorus only works on one voice at a time. If you're amplifying everything, Occinus Dilato works better."
The twins' grins grew wider, and George drew a wand from his pocket. "Thanks, Hermione," Fred said, yanking on the fleshy object so it would retract to his hands.
He held it out and George waved the wand over it, saying "Occinus Dilato," just as Hermione had. It took several tries, but eventually the spell stuck, bewitching what looked like an ear to magnify sound much better than before. He smiled impishly, and the expression was mirrored on his twin.
"What is that?" she asked.
"We call them extendable ears," George said as Fred dropped the fleshy object over the side of the railing again. He held onto a pale string that connected it to his hand, and it spun slowly, appearing for all the world as if it moved in the breeze until it abruptly ceased its motion, quivering to a stop pointed at the door.
There was an echoing sound coming from the ear, as well as quiet babble as the ear adjusted automatically to the level of sound eking through the door. Slowly, individual voices became discernible.
"What did he say?" That voice was obviously Dumbledore's.
"He was telling me he doesn't want to," a softer voice said. It sounded exactly like the boy they had met earlier. "But I'll try and bring him around. I really do want to help you. I don't like that Voldemort and I want to do what I can to stop him."
"You're spying on them!" Hermione said, shocked.
"Quiet, 'Mione! I'm trying to listen," Ron hissed, leaning his head in closer to their end of the ear.
"-there is a catch. I would rather you not tell anyone outside of this room about this just yet. Can I trust you with this, Mr. Bakura?" Dumbledore asked.
"Yes, you can. I won't tell them," Ryou replied. "I've only told a few people, and then they already knew about it anyway."
"Perfect. This meeting is over, then. Good luck."
Eyes widening as they heard that, Fred and George took the end of the string away and ripped it back up to their level. Just in time, too, because as soon as the string was wound up, the door swung open and Dumbledore stepped out, bidding them goodbye.
Just before he left, he turned back to Ryou. "Oh, yes, and I forgot to mention, you'll have to ask the others for tutoring. I'm afraid that you're already very behind, and will have to study much harder than the others until you catch up. Likewise, though you will be of age soon, you will still have to attend fifth-year level courses due to exams. I'm afraid that you still need to prepare for your OWL's before you can take your NEWT's. Good luck, Mr. Bakura." Dumbledore said, turning tail and leaving before Ryou could say anything in response.
It was silent downstairs for a moment, the usual idle chatter that occurred after most meetings gone. They were all staring at Ryou as if they had seen a ghost.
Hermione felt something inside of her grow just a little worried as she looked at the expressions on their faces. Many of them had pity, others outright fear or distrust. It made no sense. That, coupled with the strange secret Ryou would be keeping from everyone not in the Order, and she felt some of her own distrust building.
Was he supposed to spy on someone? And who was this mysterious person Ryou was referring to? He mentioned stopping Voldemort, but did he really mean it? Hermione wasn't sure what to think, and she didn't like it. Not to mention his name. She had no idea where she had seen the name Ryou Bakura before, but it seemed vaguely familiar to her. That settled it- she was going to the Black family library right after dinner to do some investigating.
Ron's mother trotted into sight and noticed the two standing at the top of the stairs. Fred and George had vanished. "You two! You'll need to show Ryou to his room. The one on the second floor will do," she said, pointing behind them. She turned back to Ryou. "Why don't you drop your stuff off in your room and then come down for dinner? You look thin, you poor dear," she practically cooed to him.
"Ano... thank you," he said bashfully, grabbing his suitcase as she returned to the kitchen. For some reason he winced as he pulled the two suitcases he had brought with him toward the stairs. Hermione smiled kindly at him, trying to look as though she didn't have any reservations about him whatsoever.
He didn't look like a spy. Actually, he looked like a young, frightened child, which made no sense considering how Dumbledore said he was almost of age.
Ron ended up carrying one of Ryou's suitcases upstairs despite the strange boy's protests otherwise. Hermione didn't know if it was pride or what, but even as the boy winced, he informed him that it was absolutely nothing, his arms were just a little sore.
He stubbornly insisted on dragging his suitcases the moment Ron had crested the stairs, especially after Ron mentioned how heavy it was. Actually, what Ron had said was "Bloody hell! What did you put in this thing?". Ryou had blushed furiously in embarrassment and snatched the handle away from him before Ron could even take a step. That had been another suspicious moment, although Hermione wasn't sure if it was born from what looked like Ryou's refusal to accept help from anyone, or if he was hiding something from them.
Hermione decided to give Ryou the benefit of the doubt, however. "So, uh, Bakura, why did you-"
"Don't call me Bakura," Ryou whispered. His eyes looked curiously red as he said this, as if they had lost all of the green sheen that they had when they had met. "Please, just call me Ryou. I am not Bakura." Then, just as suddenly as it had started, it was over. The eyes melted to liquid chocolate and there was a genuine-looking smile on his face. "Mm-kay?" The head was tilted just-so to the side, and a faint line of bangs skimmed his eyes.
Hermione didn't want to admit it, but for a moment he had looked so serene it seemed impossible that he could have meant anything ill by it. There was almost a child-like innocence in his smile, something Hermione hadn't ever thought a boy their age could pull off. But that still meant nothing. No matter how honest that smile seemed, she didn't trust him.
"So... here's your room," Ron said. "It's right next to mine. Hermione's is downstairs with Ginny. You can come down for dinner whenever, but I'd suggest not being too late. My mum's a bit of a mother hen, so she's probably going to feed you until you explode. Don't worry, she does that to everyone."
Ryou smiled again. "Thank you very much," he said sweetly. Hermione didn't think she could trust him- not yet, anyway. If Harry was allowed to question Snape's loyalty, then surely there'd be nothing wrong with her questioning Ryou's.
Writing what I changed is actually mostly a formality. Also, it's so I know which chapters I've fixed just by glancing at it. I doubt any of you really care what I did to make this otherwise intolerable drivel into something readable, anyway.
Um... words... Grimmauld Place! I don't know. I forgot what I had planned to put down here.
