I do not own YuGiOh or Harry Potter, the following is a RyouxHarry slash and blah blah if you want the full warnings go back a few chapters… to be clear this is not a HarryxDraco despite what you might think after this chapter, it's rather…familial.


Harry seemed uneasy when he got out of DADA and ran late for Potions after dropping the transfers off. Despite having a note from Dumbledore, Professor Snape was not in a good mood whatsoever and docked points off Gryffindor for tardiness and proceeded to insult Harry as undeserving of Head Boy status. A few Slytherins smirked but if Harry didn't know any better he'd say that even they grew tired of the Head of Houses' antics sometimes.

The corridors rippled with conversation of Harry using Parseltongue and facing off against the headmaster, if Harry didn't stick to his composure he would have crawled under a rock by now.

"Potter! What do I get if I added boomslang to a phobius potion in its third stage?" sneered Snape. Harry flinched and almost dropped said boomslang into his phobius potion and smoothly stopped and instead threw the dead newts.

"The Waking Nightmare potion Sir," said Harry as he inwardly dreaded Snape's next barb which would surely point out his almost-mistake to the rest of the NEWT level class.

"Then put at least an iota of attention to your potion and try not to make such a grievous mistake! 5 points from Gryffindor for not paying attention, this is a NEWT level class and the potions are semi-dangerous Potter," snarled Snape, who then moved to torment Neville Longbottom who had grown a bit more spine over the year but was still scared of Snape.

"Typical Potty can't even make a basic NEWT level potion," sneered Malfoy from the desk across from Harry's on the Slytherin end of the class.

Ron was about to retort on Harry's behalf before Hermione stepped on his foot and hissed at him to pay attention to their own potion and ignore Malfoy.

"Oh I can Malfoy, you see the colouring is turning about right, and wow…please refrain from the name-calling. For Merlin's sake you're a prefect," Harry decided to hit Malfoy's pride where it hurt.

"Honestly, I thought Malfoy's had a little more class and subtlety in public," he said, just loud enough for Malfoy to hear but low enough to appear like he was muttering unimpressed, to himself.

Malfoy's jaw shut with an audible click and instead he settled for glaring a hole through Harry who made a point of ignoring him for the rest of the class, much to the joy of Hermione who celebrated that he'd actually matured.

He insulted Malfoy and essentially called him uncouth which was a high insult to the pureblooded and stuck up.

Ron, Hermione and Harry could guess he was probably irked beyond belief at this.

When the painfully long double potions class ended, he was clapped on the back by a grinning Ron.

"Loved how you handled Malfoy, didya see his face? He was going all red I thought he was going to pop a blood vessel or something," laughed Ron.

"You handled it quite maturely Harry," praised Hermione as they all walked down the corridor.

They headed down the emptier corridor and muttered their hellos to rather lonely portraits, in honesty they did it to take a detour from Filch who was looking at Harry like he was the next Dark Lord.

They went down to their shared Charms lesson after catching the transfers make their way to the classroom adjacent to theirs in one piece and sat through an hour on the theory of masking charms.

Something was off about Draco Malfoy.

Nobody else seemed to notice it aside from maybe Dumbledore and Professor Snape but Harry sure did.

He didn't dare voice his thoughts out loud but it was niggling at him, the same way what Hermione had mentioned to him was.

'The Potters were pureblood until your father married Lily Evans, I mean, I think the whole blood-thing is ridiculous because of all the genetic risks of inbreeding. I think almost every pureblood family is obscurely related to another….'

When he lost Sirius Black, he decided to look up his ancestry. There were hints of the Gryffindor line in the Potter family, other then that there was nothing odd until Harry looked up magical irregularities after Sirius's will reading.

He was thinly related to Sirius (as he was Black and there was at least one Potter who married into the Black family before the first war) but the stronger bond came through magic. Sirius named him heir to The Ancient and Noble House of Black through magic, and therefore his magic somehow put him in relation with the Malfoy's who had married into the Black family.

Through obscure and hugely confusing means, Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter were related in a (thankfully) distant relative relationship.

This meant something for Harry Potter no matter how hard he tried to put it out his head. His entire family line aside from that nutty bitch Bellatrix was dead…except for the Malfoys.

Draco Malfoy had to count for something, and for someone so high on pureblood right and ancestral knowledge he had to have known that he was related to Harry Potter no matter how obscure it was.

'Maybe that's why he offered you his hand in friendship in first year' he thought for a moment.

Charms ended and Hermione and Ron asked Harry what was on his mind, trying to get him out of his daze. He didn't dare voice his thoughts and reminded Hermione that they needed to round up the prefects to sort out patrol times. Lessons were over and students were out for another few hours until curfew and they had that long to sort out patrol times and such.

Ron rolled his eyes and muttered something about 'perfect prefects' until a wicked gleam came in his eye and he darted off.

"Right, everyone's here except Malfoy," frowned Hermione when the prefects met in the fourth corridor connected to the steps that led to the areas of peach's hidden common room.

"He wasn't with me and he wasn't in the common room," sneered Pansy Parkinson, glaring at the mudblood who made Head Girl over her.

"I'll look for him," said Harry suddenly, surprising everyone.

"Are you sure? We can get Parkinson to l—" Hermione was smoothly cut off by Harry who idly twirled his wand in between his fingers, mind still in deep thought.

"No, no…I'll do it," he murmured, casted a quick 'Point Me' charm and scowled when it didn't pick up anything.

It seemed Draco Malfoy did not want to be found.

"I'll go look for him, I'll take late patrol times and you guys can work the rest out," said Harry, who suddenly felt a sense of urgency as he decided to walk to the third floor corridor.


The third floor was scarcely populated and nobody had seen Malfoy, so he went back down the steps and decided to think a little more.

'Where would I hide if I didn't have secret passage access and didn't want to be found?'

Harry walked to the second floor and awoke a sleeping princess portrait to ask if she'd seen a boy with platinum blond hair walk by.

"Hmm I think so, he seemed rather distraught, he headed down the corridor to Merlin-knows-where, I'm sure there's no class rooms there," she said sounding very, very tired and fell back to sleep almost instantly.

Harry frowned, the words 'Malfoy' and 'Distraught' did not go together. Malfoy was the Ice Prince of Slytherin (since the start of the year) and before then he'd only ever seen Malfoy being snotty or getting angry or being overly-happy about his fictional accomplishments.

He had seen Malfoy scared perhaps once, maybe twice in there several years at Hogwarts, but never distraught.

Harry scowled and went on his hunch, heading down the second floor corridor to the deserted girl's bathrooms where he was immediately confronted by Moaning Myrtle.

"Oooh I don't think you want to come in Harry, I'm having a moment," she bawled.

Before Harry could offer half-hearted comfort or contemplate just walking through the annoying ghost, Myrtle continued.

"With the other sad boy, so go shoo! I bet you're just here to whisk him off and then I'll be even lonelier!"

"I'm here to see what's wrong," said Harry calmly "-please excuse me," Myrtle nodded and floated up a sink tap, though peeking her head through to see what was going on.

Harry frowned lightly when he heard poorly quietened sobbing, decidedly masculine. He walked past the sinks and to a figure slumped up by a shattered mirror. There was glass all over the floor and Harry could not have been more unprepared for what he saw.

Draco Malfoy was crying.


"Piss off Potter," he snarled, springing to his feet. When Harry looked he couldn't see any sign of swollen eyes or tears as they were swiftly glamour-charmed.

"I came to get you for the prefect's meeting regarding patrols but we can let Parkinson take whatever shift you get for now. What the ruddy hell happened Malfoy?" it was hard to approach Malfoy as if he was a sobbing first year which Harry had plenty of experience with and he didn't think the Malfoy would appreciate it. So he kept a civil tongue but couldn't stop the bizarre concern seeping into his voice.

"As if you care Potter, you'll just brag about this to your groupies," he said back.

"I…I don't hate you Malfoy, I may dislike you but I don't hate you. I certainly wouldn't brag about something like this," said Harry who almost felt a bit offended by the Slytherin's assumptions.

"That's a shame Potter, because I actually DO hate you, so just leave!" he snapped.

Potter refused to budge.

"You broke the mirror, why?" he said, pointedly ignoring Malfoy's angry cursing at him.

"I don't owe you an explanation Potter, but if you must know I was…angry," for someone supposedly good at lying it was a bad lie.

"No. You're upset, there's a difference; just tell me what's wrong?" he half-pleaded, curiosity got the better of him, normally he'd be comforting and ask questions later but he never had to come to the emotional aid of his nemesis before.

"I'm not one of your homesick whiny first years Potter," growled Malfoy indignantly, wiping a tear that slipped out under the glamour charm hastily.

"Why on Earth are you even bothering me about this?" he said, confused and somewhat angry.

"You're upset and we're uh…" he blurted it out rather stupidly "-distant family you know,"

Malfoy snorted and gave Harry the 'you're-dumb-Potter' look.

"Every pureblood or halfblood is distantly related. It doesn't mean anything," he said.

"Yeah well you're talking to someone who doesn't exactly have a family so it does mean something," wow, that sounded pathetic even to Harry.

He was looking for family in his enemy.

His schoolyard rival.

Pathetic.

"Pathetic Potter, really pathetic,"

Harry winced at Malfoy's words.

"I swear on my life and my magic that I will not use what Draco Malfoy says or does tonight in this bathroom against him when we leave," said Harry quietly.

"You idiot, that was a wizard's oath, you'll become practically a squib," snorted Malfoy.

"I know, and that's IF I break it, and I won't. I promise,"

"You say that as if I'm going to spill everything to you," returned Malfoy smoothly until Harry gave him The Look.

The Look that made him seem older then he was, the fatherly I'm-Disappointed-In-You look that most people hated to see on his face because it had as much sway as a puppy-dog expression no matter who you were.

"Fine Potter, you want to know so badly?" his voice went a little louder.

Harry needed to brace himself and unfortunately he didn't and even if he tried, no amount of preparation would help him to find an appropriate reaction to what Draco Malfoy said next.

"I have to kill the headmaster,"


Hermione scowled and worked Harry and Malfoy's schedules out around everyone elses who had first pick of their patrol times.

"You think they're okay?" asked one of the Hufflepuff prefects.

"They'll be fine," said Hermione handing out their charmed up patrol schedules and hoped she was right.

Something seemed really off about Harry and Malfoy recently.


Harry stared at Malfoy and noticed a lot of things; he was paler, had circles around his eyes and lost a lot of weight. The fate the Dark Lord had chosen to assign the youngest Malfoy had clearly been eating at him.

The Boy-Who-Lived watched as his enemy began to let loose on him everything that had caused him to seek solace in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

Voldemort would kill his family if he did not kill Albus Dumbledore.

It seemed the unmarked 'Death-Eater' was in quite a pickle.

"There. Happy now?" snapped Malfoy at the end of his tirade.

"No not really, I don't like your parents or their stand in the… in things," he almost said upcoming war but didn't want to guarantee it buy saying so out loud.

"But I don't want to see you lose your family or kill the headmaster," said Harry honestly.

"Yeah well, there's nothing that can be done Potter and now I bet you'll get him out the castle or something and my family will die anyway!" cursed Malfoy, raising his wand to hex Harry out of emotional rage-turmoil.

But he didn't cast anything. His wand just lingered there.

"Maybe there is. I mean, maybe we can move your family to a safe spot and we can get Dumbledore to—"

"I'm not a blood traitor Potter and neither my father, he'd never consent to being moved or siding with Dumbledore,"

Harry held up his hand and Malfoy didn't accept it, choosing to get up onto his feet himself and stare down Harry despite his miserable state.

"What's more important? Serving your family or Voldemort?–" flinch "-if it was the latter then there'd be no difficulty about killing the headmaster and YOU wouldn't be in this choosing position right now,"

Potter had him there.

"L—Look, it's your choice okay and if we end up on the opposite sides out…in…err…battle I guess then fine. But don't do it all on a brash decision alright? I never thought you were evil Malfoy, and evil is having the strength to kill someone innocent. I don't think you have that and I don't think you ever will," said Harry flatly as if he was reading the Malfoy heir like a book.

"Just think about this okay? If your father has to choose between family and Voldemort, would he choose you?"

Malfoy hated the answer to that question.

His father, whilst loving him in some way would surely choose the Dark Lord.

"Sticking by your family is noble but what's more important is having a family anyway. I know about your dad Malfoy and I think he's made his choice, but there's probably other people who love you in your family,"

Malfoy nodded, Narcissa Malfoy his mother sprang to mind as did Severus Snape his godfather.

"Save them from Voldemort, just think about getting away from this and you won't have to kill anyone. Ideally the 'Light side' would prolly want you to stay and fight if you don't choose Voldemort, but I rather the less people on the battlefield the better. Less chance of death. I don't want you to lose your family Malfoy," Harry then gave the blond a pointed look.

"I wouldn't even wish that on my worst enemy," because I know how bad it hurts…

"If I don't do the Dark Lord's wishes Potter then it's assumed we're on the side of blood traitors and I'm not willing to die for them, maybe for my family but not for Dumbledore and his losing side," explained Malfoy irritated as if Harry was an incredibly slow child.

"Then get away from this, use the Fidelius charm—" began Harry.

"The Dark Lord could still find us, they found your parents didn't they?" interjected Malfoy.

"—and flee the country if you have to!" added Harry.

"You have options Malfoy and I know you're not a killer and I know you don't want your family dead so just think about it," Harry finished.

Draco Malfoy would have no idea how someone with just the right words, just the right movements at just the right junctures could be battling the darkness inside himself too.

They both walked out of the bathroom in silence and parted ways, concluding that the meeting with the prefects was probably over by now anyway.

"I still hate you Potter," he had muttered, he didn't think Harry could ever understand the feeling of having good an evil battle inside you to the point it slowly destroys you.

Oh how wrong he was, Harry understood this all too well.


Harry met the transfers staying up in the Gryffindor commons attempting to catch up on their basics with Hermione occasionally interjecting from her seat by the fireplace.

"Hey Harry!" said Yugi with some relief as it gave an excuse to look up from his incredibly boring beginner's Potion's theory book.

"Where was Malfoy then? Did you find him? Why didn't you come back to the prefects' meeting?" asked Hermione the second he came through the portrait hole.

"By the time I found him he…well it took an hour or so," lied Harry "-by that time I guessed we missed everything and we both headed back. Apparently Malfoy didn't get the notice about the meeting,"

Hermione gave him a levelled stare and eventually brought it, causing Harry to sag with relief.

Marik could plainly see Harry was lying as could Ryou but they didn't call him out on it.

Harry moved over to the cushy sofa-chair and before Yugi could think to move, Marik did and created a space between him and Ryou for Harry to sit between them.

The albino was suddenly very uncomfortable, and Yugi noticed him squirming too but didn't make a comment.

"So how was your first day?" was the first thing he asked.

Harry was unbearably nice.

Marik tried disliking him, tried to find him patronizing or annoying or something because it seemed that everyone was quickly won over by his kind nature.

"Well we didn't get lost much thanks to you," grinned Yugi "-so thanks,"

"We were okay, but we're so behind," commented Marik, flicking through a Charms textbook on his lap.

"Hermione's been helping us catch up though," chirped up Ryou, not looking Harry in the face, not wanting close proximity facially as they sat right next to the other.

"Did you guys make any friends?" asked Harry.

"The fifth years are okay I guess but it's been kind of hard too cause…err…" Yugi trailed off.

"They're dicks," said Ron, coming down the boy's dormitory staircase with an unusually wicked smirk directed at Harry (who'd find out why tomorrow).

"Yeah," muttered Yugi.

"Hang out with us then, I don't mind," said Harry coolly.

"Oh by the way you should probably get an early night we have Melee early in the morning, the Hufflepuffs are on late patrol, don't worry," added Hermione as an afterthought.

Harry groaned. He could see why they needed duelling and melee classes but they were extra's that chewed into their relaxation time or early morning that always left his entire sleepless body aching.

Hands trailing over the athame strapped at his side, Harry slouched into the sofa on the verge of pouting.

He really wasn't in the mood to wake up early; he had far too much to think about when he slept on it.

It was a bit odd for the transfers to see Harry brush away some of his composure and grace in order to sulk, but they found themselves all untensing a bit anyway.

"Oi Harry, have you seen Colin anywhere?" asked Ron with a frown, the boy had become less annoying though still ever-the-shutterbug. But during the free period, Ron had enraptured him in a game of chess and Colin had come close to winning and Ron wanted a rematch before bed.

"Creevey? Nope, I haven't seen him all day actually," frowned Harry wondering why he didn't notice.

"Yeah, his little brother's been looking for him too, I think he snuck out," shrugged Ron.

Harry immediately sat up causing Ryou and Marik who were sat at either side of him to look over at him.

"What? When was the last time anyone saw him?" he asked.

Ron looked confused at Harry's overreaction.

"Err, this morning. He didn't show up for lessons but he's probably just bunking it," everyone seemed to have put it down to that.

But Colin hadn't been seen anywhere in the castle.

Harry got up and apologized to the transfer students who pitied him a bit, it seemed that he was constantly rushed off his feet by something or other and was bending over backwards to accommodate others and fix their problems.

Harry questioned Dennis and Dennis finally spilled the beans.

"Well, I heard s—some Slytherins were bullying him but I didn't believe it. When I asked him he said he wasn't getting bullied and then I heard some of them talking saying they broke his camera. I asked them what they did with him and they said nuffing except break his camera but I bet they were lying cause I haven't seen him since and, and, and—" rambled the small first year Dennis Creevey looking on the verge of tears as if he was in trouble.

"Do you know who these Slytherins were?" asked Harry calmly, putting a hand on the twitching boy's shoulder.

"B—Blaise Zabini was one of 'em," he managed, it was the only one of them who's names he knew.

Harry nodded and then advised Dennis to go back to his room and not to worry about him, but he had this sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.


Harry had practically ran down the boy's staircase and bolted through the common room, kicked open the portrait hole and left it swinging as he sprinted down the corridors.

"Bloody hell, what was that all about?" asked Dean Thomas, walking in moments after Harry had run out and brushed past him as he entered the portrait hole into the commons.

"No idea," shrugged Ron.

Hermione would have questioned it but she had gone to bed when Harry went up to the boy's dorms and the transfers looked at each other nervously.

"What do you thinks going on?" asked Yugi.

"Honestly? Probably nothing good. I ain't seen Harry run like that…ever," said Ron quietly.

Everyone was silent.


When Harry interrogated the portraits near the seemingly hidden Slytherin common room in the dungeons, they admitted seeing a group of Slytherins carrying a smaller boy through the pumpkin patch-exit after Harry threatened to burn their portraits with them still in it if they didn't spill.

He would have interrogated Zabini too but he didn't know the Slytherin's password and didn't think his Head Boy status extended this far into letting him into other houses.

When he ran past Hagrid's hut in the darkening evening right the way through the pumpkin patch, past the sleeping dog Fang right up to the silver gates on the edge of the Forbidden Forest he cursed to the top of his lungs.

There was a shred of Gryffindor robe that had been caught between the fences that probably belonged to Colin Creevey.

Meaning the Slytherin's probably thought it was funny to sling him in the Forbidden Forest, probably for taking pictures of them or annoying them without realizing he was.

Fuck.

Turning his heel he ran to Hagrid's hut again and practically blew the straw house down with raw magic alone.

"Wha's going on 'Arry?" asked the surprised half-giant.

Pant. Pant. Pant.

"It's Colin Creevey!"


Harry could not sleep that night, or any night for that matter but today was especially bad.

Breakfast was even worse.

Owl post had come as usual and the teachers had looked torn as a black letter arrived on the talons of a raven straight for Dennis Creevey who was looking for signs of his brother at the Gryffindor table.

He wasn't there.

Frowning, he munched on his toast and Harry stopped chatting with Ron and Marik. The table had suddenly gone painfully silent and the rest of the hall had gone a bit quieter as the raven was spotted.

"Excuse me a sec Ryou," Harry got up from next to him and walked down to Dennis and tapped him lightly on the shoulder.

"Yeah Harry?" he asked, buttery fingers about to open the black letter while the other fed toast into his mouth.

"See that letter Dennis? I wouldn't open it at the table, err...open it in private," Harry whispered as he leaned down to the first years ear, ignoring the stares he was getting as the only one out of his chair in the Great Hall.

"Why?" asked the muggle-born confusedly.

"It's…it's not good news. Black letters are never good news," said Harry quietly and sadly.

"Oh like howlers?" said Dennis, shuddering at the idea, he'd heard of those things and didn't like them one bit.

"I suppose," said Harry, not knowing how to put it "-just put it in your pocket and open it later, okay?" he didn't need Dennis to start breaking down in the middle of the Great Hall.

Confused but complacent the first year nodded and happily continued to munch his toast, oblivious, and nobody in Gryffindor wanted to pop his bubble to tell him what kind of letter, black raven-delivered ones were.

Harry sat back down next to Ryou and sighed looking considerably less happy.

"What's going on?" asked Ryou nervously, and squirmed when Harry looked him straight in the eye and talked in a low tone so Dennis wouldn't hear.

"Black letters are automatically sent when someone, a wizard, dies. It's an informant, I would know. I had one anyway when—," Harry stopped, realizing they probably didn't know about the epic tale involving Sirius Black.

"I just told him to open it in private," said Harry quietly.

"Oh…" managed Ryou, eyes looking over at the oblivious first year sadly.

"Is this to do with you sprinting out the common room like a mad-man last night?" asked Marik forwardly.

Harry looked at the others not-so-subtly leaning in to listen to their conversation.

"I'll tell you later," he muttered and settled for glaring at Blaise Zabini at the end of the Slytherin table.


xxxEnd Chapterxxx