Author Notes: Scream, yell, throw rotten tomatoes, PM spam... I didn't have any inspiration, and wasn't sure how to go about writing this chapter. But I think Bakura may finally be getting to Hogwarts. About time, right? Thank you all my readers, and thank you very much to all my reviewers! While having people read the story is nice, it's the reviews that make me feel appreciated. If you take the time to favorite or story alert this, drop a line (it wouldn't exactly take any longer)! The ratio of +favorites/alerts per chapter to actual reviews is huge (2:1) and it's kind of depressing, considering you can review for each chapter, while you can only favorite the story once. Here's a tip. If you want me to update faster, guilt trip me, because I'm an incorrigible procrastinator.
I am by no means soliciting for reviewers; I have very many great people giving me feedback already. It's just that, seeing that so many people like the story but don't actually take the time to say anything sort of makes me want to go play games or write something else instead of this when I have free time. If you're tired of these once-a-month and crappy to boot updates, PM spam me or something, I won't mind. That way, I will actually move my arse and write in the hour-ish of solid free time I have almost every day, potentially bringing update speed up to once a week. If you don't care... well, neither do I, I have other things to do too! :D
Also, my school is awesome. Today was crazy hat/hair day, so someone came to school wearing the Sorting Hat. XD! He proceeded to stick it on people's heads and sort them. I got Slytherin. o-O I'm glad to know how my peers feel about me.
Review Replies!
To GirlLoki and Jerex: Bakura is indeed getting his wand now! I'm not sure exactly why I made Dumbledore make a big deal about his wand (you'll see in chapter). I suppose I'll tie up the loose ends later.
Disclaimer: Please do not eat Harry Potter. I do not own Harry Potter, so it would be bad if you ate him, because I happen to be borrowing him for now, and then I would have to pay J.K. Rowling for him, which would be really lame. Also, please refrain from kidnapping Bakura, because then I would have to pay for damages (to you and your family) since he would likely knife you and run away, and after that I'd have to explain to Kazuki Takahashi why his fictional character suddenly became real, and I would have to pay for that too. Right now, I only have about 40 bucks, and cannot pay for all of this stuff.
"Speech"
"Telepathy"
'Thoughts'
(Footnote Number)
xxxxxx
As they stepped out from the fireplace, sooty and uncomfortable, Ryou realized that they'd forgotten something important.
"Wand!" he exclaimed out of the blue, as soon as the thought had crossed his mind. They had forgotten to get his wand. Well, that couldn't be good, as a wand was supposed to be important for a wizard. It really was strange that they hadn't stopped by the wand shop though. While the spirit had been busy mucking about in the underground bank vaults, it appeared that Mrs. Weasley and Tonks had decided to do the rest of their shopping and look for him along the way so as to be more efficient. Of course, Ryou would've needed to be present to get his wand, and perhaps the women had been too relieved when they'd found him and ushered him away as soon as they could. In any case, there was still the problem itself.
"Oh, yes, dear. Wand-- oh, of course!" Mrs. Weasley muttered distractedly as she accidentally dropped the packages she carried onto the floor in a rather haphazard pile, which she fervently tried to sort into orderly stacks to pick up again. "Actually dear, Albus requested that we wait to get you your wand, because he wanted to be present for the moment." she explained, straightening up and stretching, before hefting the veritable tower of shopping back into her arms.
"Sentimental old man." the spirit sneered. Ryou sighed. Whenever Dumbledore was mentioned, the spirit always had to make some sort of scathing comment. He just wondered what it would be like with the man nearby all year. It wouldn't be fun to live with a bad tempered spirit, not when said spirit could snatch his body at any time and wreak havoc in a rage. Ryou just hoped that the stupid old man (now he was insulting him too...) wouldn't cause any more trouble.
As they entered Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, and George congregated in the entrance hall to relieve the Weasley matron of her huge load, each grabbing their own books. Ryou, who'd been carrying his own supplies, made his way precariously up the stairs to the second floor landing and dumped the packages onto his bed. He kicked open his suitcase (someone had brought it over from his house), which was already half full of clothes, and placed the majority of his purchases into it without unwrapping them, leaving only the rectangular package with a hasty "5th yr books" scrawled upon it in black ink on his bed. He relegated his now-packed trunk to the corner of his room, and tore open the wrappings on his new books. After all, he figured that it couldn't be a bad thing to read ahead.
As they plowed through the new material, both Ryou and the Spirit of the Ring realized-- with a sinking heart and a flare of rage, respectively-- that the defense book appeared to be all theory. Sure, they hadn't actually practiced any spell before, lacking the wand and the permission, but the other books themselves had included instructions on how to perform the spell and what sort of force it required. The book he had right now gave only the explanations of how spells worked-- it lacked a few important qualities, such as the wand movement.
"I swear, I'm going to kill that smiling prune!" the spirit roared. "No... better yet, I'll give him his own, private doll." he hissed after further thought. He did not relish the concept of wasting an entire year, a precious year, on theory. Especially when Dumbledore had claimed he'd get at least some defensive or even offensive education. Ryou shifted uncomfortably, as some of Yami no Bakura's anger was leaking over into his own conscious and making him unreasonably irate.
True to his words, the spirit had taken over and was already getting to work on creating the Headmaster's figurine. There did not appear to be any lead around, or a furnace. And for that matter, he did not have his cast or any wax, or any precautionary safety devices. Therefore, he settled on the old fashioned method of whittling. He was sure he'd seen a block of wood up on the third floor in one of the empty rooms, and his pocket knife would do...
Ryou sat on the bed in his soul room and watched through the eyes in mild interest. This was probably the spirit's way of venting his anger. He seriously doubted that Yami no Bakura would actually seal the Headmaster away. That would definitely attract attention of the negative type, which they did not want if they were to survive in the wizarding world. Then again, the spirit really was rather unpredictable. In any case, Ryou hadn't known that the dark spirit was so proficient at whittling. Barely half an hour had passed before a wooden likeness of a human had been carved out of the nondescript block, and another half hour's work had produced fine facial details and even fingers and toes.
Satisfied with the frame of the doll, Yami no Bakura flicked the blade on his knife closed and slipped it into his pocket. He exited his room quietly, in preparation of scavenging the house for more materials.
As it turned out, there wasn't any usable fabric in the house. At least, not the type that Bakura was searching for. But the spirit had discovered something else. In the last room on the third floor, there lived a strange hybrid creature that looked like something out of a Duel Monsters card. It had sharp, beady eyes, a cruel beak, deadly looking talons for its front feet, and a horse's hindquarters and hind legs. Huge eagle wings were folded at its sides, and it munched casually on a bloody animal carcass. The stench was overwhelming-- or would have been, if Yami no Bakura had been sensitive to such things. But, having casually killed an uncountable number of people, any distaste he might have had had long dissipated; in fact, he rather enjoyed the scent of death and the sight of blood.
As he entered the room, the creature leveled a steely gaze upon him, one that would've certainly cowed a lesser being. But Bakura remained apathetic, arms crossed as he stood in the door frame. The beast uttered a threatening screech as the spirit stepped closer, standing up and stretching out its wings.
"I think it's a hippogriff, spirit." Ryou muttered quietly. In all honesty, he was frightened. The creature was huge, its wingspan extending many meters. Its razor sharp talons would undoubtly be able to decapitate a human with a single slash. The spirit scowled as his light side's terror seeped into his subconscious.
"Stop quivering like a coward! I'm sure one of those books we read had something about these... hippogriff creatures." Bakura snapped. "Now think."
"Th-they are very p-proud." Ryou finally managed, after frantically sifting through what he remembered. Conveniently, the books he was envisioning made their way into the shelf in his soul room, although the words were blurry and some pages ripped out, undoubtedly due to faulty remembrance, although his subconscious certainly did picked up more than his conscious memory did.
"Yes? What else?" the spirit demanded impatiently. The hippogriff before them-- for now there was no doubt that it was such-- was getting more vexed by the second at the interruption of its meal, and looked ready to attack.
"You have to bow to it." Ryou squeaked. Yami no Bakura scowled, but did as his hikari said. Now that it had been brought up, he did remember reading about hippogriffs in some book about magical beasts. With an air of indifference, the spirit strolled into the room and bowed low, making sure to suppress any hint of mockery. After all, the last time he bowed, it was in derision of the Pharaoh...
The hippogriff eyed him warily for a painfully long time, before it finally acted. It folded up its wings and bent its front legs in what was evidently a returning bow. Bakura straightened up gracefully and scrutinized the creature before him. Satisfied, he retreated, the Ring's bright flash through his shirt visible in dark of the room. Ryou bit his lip fearfully as he was suddenly faced with the menacing beak and perpetually annoyed-looking eyes of the hippogriff, which was a little too close for comfort.
"Apologies for hindering your meal." he finally said in an effort to break the silence. Ryou felt a little bit inane, speaking to the hippogriff. He didn't doubt the creature understood him, he just found it really awkward to talk to something that could not respond verbally. Still, the hippogriff shifted its head in what appeared to be a nod. "Er, well, I suppose I'll just be going." he muttered, bowing once more before turning to leave. He'd really rather err on the side of over-politeness.
As he exited the room, he ran right into a very surprised Sirius Black. Ryou opened his mouth, unsure of what to say. It was more likely than not that he wasn't supposed to be there.
"Bakura! Are you alright?" Sirius inquired hurriedly, having gotten over his shock at seeing the albino emerge from Buckbeak's room. The boy appeared fine, if a bit uncomfortable.
"Er yes, of course I am. Is there a reason why I shouldn't be?" Ryou asked, knowing full well that the hippogriff probably could've eaten him for lunch. Sirius stared at him incredulously. "What's his name?" Ryou asked in an effort to change the subject.
"What? Oh, Buckbeak." Sirius replied. "I just keep him up here in my mother's room since I can't really take him out. We're both wanted criminals." he continued, smiling half-heartedly. Ryou nodded, shrugging.
"Alright then. I think I'll go grab some food." he informed Sirius. In actuality, Ryou wasn't hungry in the least, although it was already evening, and he hadn't had lunch. For one, the run-in with Buckbeak had taken away his appetite. Also, the spirit was in a bad mood again, as he had remembered what he'd been doing before they met the hippogriff. The lack of proper materials meant that the finishing of Dumbledore's doll would have to wait. How unfortunate.
As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Yami no Bakura suddenly seized control. Fortunately, in the well lit hall, the Ring's reaction went unseen.
"Spirit?" Ryou asked tentatively. The spirit was nearly growling, and his eyes were sharp and narrowed.
"That insolent, cowardly thief!" he snarled inside his head, his face contorting outwardly. The short, ratty man dressed in rags and lazily smoking a pipe was easily recognizable as the thief they had bumped into in Diagon Alley on their first day exploring in England. As he caught sight of the distinctive albino, Mundungus Fletcher jumped and backed away, unconsciously rubbing his side, though it had long since healed.
"You! What're you doing here?" They both cried at the same time, Bakura in fury and Mundungus in fear. The spirit sneered and crossed his arms.
"I happen to be living here for now." Bakura informed the other man. As he took a step forward, he was pleased to see that Mundungus took one backward.
"I-I'm part of the Order." Mundungus muttered, trying to put up a brave facade. It wasn't working.
"I see." Bakura replied, scowling. "And they let a petty thief like you join?"
"I-- They let a bloody murderer live in their house, so why not?" the man retorted. Bakura froze for a second, wondering how the man knew, before realizing that he was merely inferring from the willingness that Bakura had displayed in stabbing him.
"Where's the murderer?" a gruff voice inquired, preceding its owner. Alastor Moody clunked out of the kitchen, electric blue eye whirring about, undoubtedly in search of said murderer. Bakura raised his hand lazily, scowling slightly when "Mad-Eye" missed the sarcasm and pulled out his wand. However, Bakura was spared the task of convincing the auror that he wasn't a murderer, as the sound of desperate sobbing reached their ears. It was coming from the drawing room. Moody's swiveling eye swerved to stare through the wall, though he kept his real eye trained on Bakura. But the spirit had already started for the drawing room door. If it was an enemy, he would laugh at their pain. And if it was an ally, he would tell them to buck up and grow a spine.
The sight that greeted him was extremely strange. Harry Potter was staring dumbfounded at Molly Weasley, who was currently crying her eyes out over the dead body of what appeared to be one of her family members. Bakura was confused, but he suddenly understood as Mrs. Weasley muttered "Riddikulus!" between sobs. It was something out of the third year defense book. He couldn't remember what it was called, but presumably it showed your worst fear. And this woman was obviously failing at vanquishing it.
Bakura, forgetting that he hadn't a wand, stepped between her and the dead bodies of Fred and George Weasley. The boggart seemed to waver a bit, before Crack, and it shifted form into wrinkled old man with a grizzled white beard, wearing long off-white robes, and carrying a bloodied bundle. At first, Harry thought it might have been Dumbledore, but then saw that the man was much shorter and much less calm than the headmaster. The spirit looked at the boggart-man in confusion, until he turned. Then he gasped in surprise and narrowed his eyes in fury.
"Akhenaden..."(1) he hissed unconsciously. The man began laughing viciously, and behind him appeared a cauldron, containing a simmering golden liquid. He raised up the bundle in his hands, which Harry saw with horror was a woman, with tan skin and bright white hair, still slightly conscious. With a sinking heart, Bakura saw his mother thrown mercilessly into the sacrificial cauldron. She uttered one last cry.
"My son!" she screamed. And the spirit knew that he had been hiding behind a pillar at that time, and in her dying moment, his mother had seen him and called out... Bakura shook his head. It didn't have the same effect as the real thing. His mother was already dead, had been dead for over three thousand years. Reliving her death wasn't going to make it any worse. He watched idly as the cauldron vanished, and Akhenaden advanced slowly. Now, irrational fear welled up within him. A memory strained to resurface, but it was as if some sort of clamp was pushing it down, trying to repress it. But before he could think more on it, Remus Lupin ran before him, pointing his wand at the image of the priest.
"Riddikulus!" he said, and the man vanished entirely, to be replaced with a silvery orb hanging in the air. Lupin waved his wand and it vanished into smoke. Remus turned and went to comfort Molly Weasley, who was still sobbing quietly, not only at the sight of her children's dead bodies, but now at the horror of the white-haired woman's death.
"Bakura, that was your mum, wasn't it?" Harry asked tentatively. The spirit glared at him. Although he didn't feel anger or sadness at her death per say, for everybody died sooner or later, he was nearly drowning in rage at the one who was responsible for the ignoble deed. It had been Bakura's duty, as the eldest son, to bury his parents the proper way after they died-- just because he lived in a village of thieves didn't mean that he had no honor. But all of that was crushed when they died a cursed death, and left no bodies behind to bury. Only evil gold... Bakura fingered his Millennium Ring, a piece of the accursed metal his village had died for. And even now, he knew that the spirits of his village were restless-- had been that way for three thousand years, all for the aims of some bigoted Pharaoh who's head was stuffed full of the noble crap that he always preached, never realizing his own hypocrisy. Bakura sighed. Though he had committed many murders, he always left a body behind for someone to find and give the proper rights to. It was disgusting to deprive the dead of their rightful rest, whether they entered the Blessed Fields or had their hearts devoured by Ammut.
"Yes." he replied curtly to Harry, who seemed to already regret what he'd just said. However, Harry Potter was now brooding over something else. He recalled distinctly that Bakura had told him that his mother and sister had died in a car crash. Either it was his way of coping... or he was lying. Harry liked to believe the best of people, and he did see how uncomfortable the albino was at the mention of his mum. Besides, why would he lie about something like that? There was nothing to gain by it. He remembered that the Dursleys always said that his parents died in a car crash. Maybe that was just the muggle way of dealing with wizardly deaths.
As Harry thought about the things he'd heard that night, his worries about a joke shop and prefects seemed a world away. And, when his scar seared in pain, he felt even worse. What was happening out there in the world now?
Even as Harry Potter lay in bed, mind whirring, Ryou Bakura was standing in the entrance hall, fully dressed, with Albus Dumbledore at his side. His yami had decided that he didn't want to face the old man while his negative emotions were in disarray, as he wouldn't want to accidentally kill someone and draw attention. So Ryou walked out the door with Dumbledore, who was taking him back to Diagon Alley to get his wand.
Neither hikari nor yami was sure of the significance of this. Why did the headmaster insist on seeing him buy his wand? Though Yami no Bakura was certain it was just something trivial, Ryou wasn't so sure. Under the "kindly grandfather" visage was a cunning and manipulative mind, as they both knew, and everything Dumbledore did seemed to be planned out to the minutest detail. They had to watch out for him, just like with Shaadi...
This time, instead of flooing, they apparated, which wasn't much more comfortable, really. After a quick exchange of greetings with the barkeep, Tom, they headed out the back door and into the Alley. Wasting no time, Dumbledore made a beeline for Ollivander's wand shop, with Ryou following closely at his heels.
If the musty shop was eerie in the day time, it was ten times worse in the dark of night. Ryou couldn't help but shiver at the oppressive air of the place. He jumped a mile when Ollivander appeared before him, clear grayish eyes gleaming with anticipation, as if he was some hungry wolf.
"Ryou Bakura. I've been expecting you." the creepy man said in a surprisingly normal, if dilated, voice. "Hold out your wand arm please." Uncertainly, Ryou held out his left arm. The shopkeeper flicked his wand, and a tape measure began examining Ryou of its own accord. Ollivander himself was moving to take down some of the thin, slender boxes on the shelves, which undoubtedly contained wands. He came over, waved the tape measure away, and handed the albino a wand. "Yew and dragon heartstring, eleven inches. Bendy." he declared, and Ryou took it and waved it around. It was quickly snatched back.
"No no, that won't do. Try this one. Beech and unicorn tail hair. Eight inches. Springy." But that one was taken away too. Ollivander snatched up another box and took out the wand it contained. "Maple, dragon heartstring, nine and a half inches. Rigid." he said, handing it to Ryou. Nothing happened, and it was taken back too.
Ryou felt that he went through quite a few wands. Oak and unicorn tail hair, ten inches and supple. Plane and phoenix feather, seven and a half inches, sturdy. Pine, unicorn tail hair, ten and a half inches and whippy. Ebony and dragon heartstring, eight inches and good for charm work. Rowan and phoenix feather, nine and a half inches, bendy. Cherry and dragon heartstring, ten inches and unyielding. Cedar, unicorn tail hair, twelve inches, good for transfiguration. Elm and phoenix feather, seven inches, rigid. Birch, dragon heartstring, ten and a half inches, springy. And the list went on and on. He was beginning to think that perhaps he just wasn't magical enough.
Ollivander's eyes were shining with excitement as he handed Ryou yet another wand. "Try this one. Elder and unicorn tail hair. Nine and a half inches. Strong." The albino took the wand and waved it, not expecting anything to happen. Therefore, he was extremely surprised when warmth coursed through his body and it shot out white sparks. The shopkeeper gave him a look somewhere between happy and despairing. Behind him, Dumbledore clapped lightly, nodding. Ryou was still confused, even as he handed Ollivander the money and headed out the door. He couldn't help but feel that there was something he was not being told.(2)
The journey back was as quick as the one there, and about as comfortable. As soon as he entered his room, Ryou toppled onto his bed, exhausted.
xxxxxx
Bakura checked in every nook and cranny to make sure that he hadn't forgotten anything of value. He took care dressing, strapping the knives Ryou liked under his clothing, one on his belt, one on his right arm, and last on his leg. He clasped the belt that held his deck, after having made certain that every card was there. Then he shoved the wand up his left sleeve and pulled on his trench coat. He concealed one of his more dangerous knives in the lining of his coat. After all, there was no such thing as having too many weapons. Finally, he stuffed his dangling Millennium Ring down the front of his shirt, smoothing it out, and placed the Millennium Eye in his front pocket, the one with the zipper. Carefully, he picked up Set and wound the snake around his neck, hiding him in the high collar of his coat. The only pets allowed at Hogwarts were owls, cats, and toads. But Bakura was definitely not leaving his precious snake behind. There was just no way.
Ryou was still asleep. That alone told the yami that he wasn't excited at all to go to Hogwarts. Usually, he was up bright and early on the first day of school, no matter what. It wasn't exactly that Ryou liked studying. It was just that he strived to keep up his grades to help bolster his reputation, which was decidedly marred by Bakura's antics. As the spirit opened the door, he heard a loud thunk, a scream, and then the grating voice of the portrait of Sirius' mother.
Apparently, Fred and George had knocked Ginny Weasley down the stairs. Bakura would've laughed, but he deemed that as something suspicious to do, and so controlled himself. Because Harry Potter was with them, they were going to King's Cross on foot, with a guard. Joy.
The walk took about twenty minutes, and they made it with about five minutes to spare. From the inane chatter about Hogwarts that the other teens launched into whenever he was near, he'd learned that one simply walked through the barrier between platforms nine and ten to reach nine and three quarters. Why exactly they called the platform nine and three quarters was beyond the spirit. In his opinion, nine and a half would have been much more logical.
The platform was colorful and cheerful, although it had a decidedly rustic air. Bakura, ignoring the others, effortlessly swung his trunk off of their cart and headed for the train. Once inside, he found with distaste that every compartment had occupants. Just as he was wondering whose company would be less grating, he was tapped on the shoulder. Resisting the instinct to stab or curse whoever had surprised him, he whirled around and came face to face with Draco, who was surrounded by his cronies. Forcing his face into a slight smile, Bakura inclined his head.
"Malfoy, yes?" he murmured lightly.
"So you decided to show up, Bakura. Would you like to sit with my friends?" Malfoy inquired. His voice carried an arrogant undertone even more pronounced than it had been the last time they had met. Bakura caught sight of the badge with the curled P proudly displayed on the blond's chest. So the Malfoy had become prefect.
"I'd be delighted." the spirit replied coyly. He followed Draco to a compartment about halfway down the train, which contained a few students wearing the ties and badges of Slytherin house. They looked up as he entered, clearly curious as to why he wore no house colors.
"Pansy, Blaise. Meet Bakura, Ryou Bakura. He's from Japan, and he'll be starting Hogwarts in fifth year." Malfoy said, before turning to leave, evidently for the prefect carriage. Bakura scowled at the blond for doing his introduction for him, but let it pass. Seeing as everyone else was already in their robes, he decided he'd might as well change. Carefully extracting his knife, he placed it between his teeth as he removed his trench coat. He stowed it in his bag and pulled out his black robes, ignoring the dumbfounded looks on the others' faces at his long, sharp, and partly serrated blade. Slipping his robes on, he shifted until he was comfortable. There was a hiss, and Bakura was surprised for a second, before he realized that it was Set.
"Did you just hiss?" asked the girl who he assumed was named Pansy. Bakura turned and shook his head, scowling (or attempting to, as trying to change his facial expression while holding a knife between his teeth was difficult) and gesturing towards the black, scaly mass around his neck. As they realized what it was, the Slytherins' eyes widened. Bakura plopped down in the middle seat and removed his knife so he could talk.
"This is Set." he informed the other teens, letting the snake slither onto his lap. Wiping off his blade, he placed it somewhere in his robes-- no one actually saw where.
"You can do magic, yes?" the other boy, Blaise asked suspiciously, eying where he thought the knife had disappeared off to. Bakura sneered.
"Of course." he replied. These people didn't need to know that he was rather unsure whether or not he could do any of the spells detailed in the books. Besides, they'd asked if he could do magic. They hadn't specified what kind. He was very proficient at shadow and soul magic, very much indeed. His branch of magic was much more practical, anyways. Who needed all that spell crap when they could simply summon their ka for battle? Then again, not everybody's ka was as powerful as his Diabound. In fact, he very much doubted that anyone's ka was stronger than Diabound. He smirked inwardly at this thought, but retained his indifferent expression on the outside.
The train ride with the Slytherins wasn't very interesting. Blaise's face was fixed in a perpetual frown, and he looked as if he'd much rather be somewhere else. This sentiment was probably encouraged by the fact that Pansy was attempting to make small talk, and failing. After all, she was talking to boys. Well, boys and a three thousand year old spirit-- who was male. Yami no Bakura was bored. Although it was already noon, Ryou had still not woken up (or if he did, he hadn't said anything), and he wanted to know why. Perhaps the wand waving from last night had taken a toll on the boy. The spirit wasn't sure, as the whole event seemed rather simple overall. In any case, boredom and the dark spirit were not compatible. Bakura felt the itch to violate basic social mores coming on, and he fought to suppress it. He himself did not understand why he felt anger and hatred whenever he was idle. It was, after all, completely irrational, and he knew it. But yet, the urges always came, and he usually had to stamp them down.
A little after one, a witch pushing a trolley stacked full of sweets came by. As Pansy had shut up, and Blaise was looking slightly happier at the sight of sweets, Bakura decided that he would take a look at the trolley as well. There were strange sweets of every kind, most of which he had never heard of. Figuring that Ryou liked, chocolate, he purchased some chocolate frogs, and, as his negative emotions peaked and he wanted to kill, he decided wisely to grab a few of the "blood pops" to occupy his time. He didn't actually like the weird coppery taste of blood-- it disagreed with him-- but he was definitely not one for sweet things, and he figured that if he couldn't actually bloody his hands, he might as well pretend that he was. Maybe the feelings would go away after that. When he asked for the reddish candies, the witch looked at him oddly before handing them to him in exchange for a few knuts. Bakura plopped down on his seat and tore off the wrapper of one of his lollipops, shoving it in his mouth. He received another odd look, this time from Blaise, and a repulsed scowl from Pansy. He decided that the candy was not really helping to calm him down. Taking a deep breath, he resolved to stare at the wall straight across from him-- incidentally right above Pansy's head.
The blood pops didn't actually taste like blood. They were tangy and slightly salty, but there wasn't as much of that metallic flavor that real blood had. And Bakura was just fine with that. They actually tasted pretty good. Smiling a little, the spirit's thoughts drifted, and he sucked absently on his candy. On second thought, perhaps the lollipops were indeed helping him repress his bloodthirsty urges-- no pun intended. Still, he'd rather be doing something interesting. And so he sat the body up in a sustainable position and retreated to his soul room.
When Draco Malfoy returned from his prefect duties, pushed past Crabbe and Goyle, and threw open the compartment door, he was greeted with a sight that was decidedly weird as hell. Blaise Zabini was asleep, leaning on the compartment wall and drooling slightly, and it made Malfoy think, 'What bad posture!' Pansy Parkinson was staring at Bakura, lip curled in disgust. And Bakura... Bakura had a dreamy look on his face, and a lollipop stick was hanging out of his mouth. Glancing at the seat next to the albino which held a small pile of candy, his suspicious were confirmed. 'Ew.' was all he could think for a second. Once he came back to his wits, he strode over to Bakura and prodded him, causing the white-haired boy to sway dangerously. However, the spirit quickly regained his bearings, rushing to occupy the previously empty shell. He blinked, rusty brown eyes narrowing.
"What?" he muttered, but it came out as a growl. He grabbed the stick on his blood pop and took it out of his mouth so he could speak properly. Draco felt strangely intimidated, but soon regained his footing.
"Are you a vampire or something?" he asked bluntly. Bakura blinked at him in confusion, opening his mouth to answer before stopping again to consider. The whole notion was ridiculous, but he supposed it was possible. Maybe that was what was causing him to be so irrational (3).
"I don't think so..." he finally said after some consideration. Draco Malfoy stared at him for a bit before shaking his head.
"What's that supposed to mean? You don't think so?" he cried. Frankly, it made no sense to him. Bakura blinked again, tilting his head to the side.
"It means just that. I'm most probably not. But I can't deny that these blood pops are pretty tasty." the spirit replied. "You want one?" he asked a second later, just for kicks. He chuckled at Draco's wide eyes and shocked moue. "I'll take that as a no." he said, putting his own almost-blood-flavored lollipop back in his mouth. Draco shook his head and sat down next to Pansy. He grabbed one of the every flavored beans from the box she held and popped it in his mouth before choking on it. Bakura glanced inquisitively at him. "What did you get?" he asked.
"Blood." Malfoy replied dryly. 'Oh, the irony of it all.' he thought, as Bakura broke into a series of erratic cachinnations. Draco, deciding that he'd had enough of the compartment, which now smelled faintly of blood and confectionery sugar (incidentally not a great combination), stood and walked out the door, beckoning Crabbe and Goyle to follow. He had Potter and his pals to pick on.
The train ride passed quickly, despite the lack of anything interesting to do. Once Malfoy left, Bakura again retreated into his soul room. At first sight, it seemed a plain, square room, but the spirit knew better. It was a tomb-- his tomb, he sometimes could not help thinking-- and it was riddled with traps. He had heard tell of the Pharaoh's soul room, rife with staircases that defied gravity. But the great star-haired one wasn't the only one with hidden memories. Bakura knew where each of the traps located in his soul room were, and they were almost all pretty commonplace-- poisoned darts, flying knives, swinging blades, crushing pillars-- all but one. The spirit headed towards that one now, making sure to bypass the other traps. Stepping on the switch that activated it, he saw the walls flicker away as red sand poured into the room-that-was-no-longer. He was in the middle of the desert, and, judging by the position of the sun, it was just after noon.
It was an illusion, for the walls were still there, and tangible. But it was mysterious, and the spirit could make no sense of it. Not only that, but the time of day did indeed change, and it was apparently synchronized with real life. And it was in his own soul room... Sighing, Bakura stamped his foot, and the trap reversed. Sand vanished, and the walls reappeared.
As he had nothing to do, he purposely ran across the room, triggering a multitude of deadly traps. Stones fell from overhead, even as flying blades assaulted him from all sides. It was his way of keeping his reflexes sharp, his training. Since it was his soul room, he couldn't die, as nothing was real. But he knew from experience that it sure hurt to be hit.
But while dodging deadly traps was fun, it too got boring after awhile. By this time, Bakura became aware that Ryou had woken up, and, as the body had been unoccupied, the host's conscious had automatically taken hold.
"Why am I sitting with Slytherins?" Ryou asked the spirit. He hadn't expected to wake on the train, nor had he expected to be sharing a compartment with the people Harry Potter hated.
"Because they invited us to sit." Yami no Bakura replied, sitting down and leaning on a patch of wall that wasn't rigged. And, as if he had read Ryou's thoughts he said, "Potter won't know a thing."
Ryou sighed, surveying his surroundings. The compartment was a commonplace one, but its occupants were anything but ordinary. Blaise Zabini had woken up, and was staring moodily at the ceiling. Pansy was leaning on Draco, who had returned to the compartment some time ago, after having gotten bored of bullying first years. Crabbe and Goyle were now sitting inside, looking unsure of themselves. Just then, Theodore Nott, a lanky brunette, entered, a thoughtful look on his face. He sat down next to Ryou, not even bothering to glance his way.
Ryou felt uncomfortable grouped together with a roomful of people he didn't know. He stood, and, seeing as everyone else was occupied, did not bother to say anything as he left the stuffy compartment for the narrow hallway in the middle of the train. Extracting his wand from his sleeve once he realized it was there, he held it carefully, scrutinizing it. It was a dark brown, with a light smattering of carvings up its length. He could not discern whether they had function, or were simply ornamental, but he liked the feel of the ridged wood in his hand.
"If you're going to fiddle with that, you'd might as well try some magic." the spirit said. That sounded like pretty good advice, so Ryou gripped his wand steadily and cast the first spell that came to mind.
"Wingardium Leviosa." he muttered under his breath, flicking his wand at a pebble on the carpet. Nothing happened. He sighed, trying it again. "Wingardium Leviosa." Still, nothing changed.
"Let me." the spirit demanded, and Ryou felt him take control. "Wingardium Leviosa." the spirit murmured. His voice was oddly intonated, but this time, it worked, at least sort of. The rock jumped significantly before dropping to the floor once more.
"Spirit, how do you do it?" Ryou inquired, rather miffed. He hadn't expected to succeed on the first try. Ron said that it had taken him ages. But he certainly hadn't thought the spirit capable of it either.
"I don't know, Yadonushi. I just... do. I suppose it's because I am well practiced in other magics as well." Yami no Bakura responded. He retreated to let Ryou practice more before the train arrived at its destination.
By the time the Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade Station, Ryou had managed to make the pebble flop weakly. Sighing, he stowed his wand back up his sleeve and hurried for the compartment that he'd previously vacated. The other Slytherins had left already, and he managed to make it off the train without bumping into anyone he knew. Relieved, he ran towards the call of "first years, over here, first years!" A harried looking woman carrying a large lantern was waving it as hard as she could, and ushering frightened looking children into boats. Shivering, Ryou jumped into the nearest rowboat and sat down. He was soon joined by three other children, who looked at him inquisitively, clearly wondering why someone as old as him was traveling with them.
Once the woman with the lantern got into the last boat, the entire fleet began moving towards what was presumably the castle. As they passed an outcropping of rock, amazed gasps could be heard coming form the front and those in the back craned their necks to see what was so interesting. Ryou could not help but gasp as he saw the enormous castle, glittering with light that streamed from hundreds of windows. Even the spirit was impressed. The Pharaoh's abode, he remembered, had not been nearly as large, although it did have some fancy gold adornment that this castle lacked.
The school got closer and closer, and soon they were up right next to it. But the boats kept moving, passing under a curtain of ivy and heading below the foundations into an underground lagoon. The children got out then, some of them still stunned from their first sight of the castle. The woman who had brought them went up to a set of double doors and knocked three times, loudly.
The doors opened, and the first years and Ryou stepped into a grand scene. The entrance hall was huge, and Ryou suspected that Otoogi's fancy game shop could easily fit inside it. A staircase began directly before them, and it seemed to stretch on forever. However, they were led to the right by a stern looking witch in green robes, who Ryou was fairly certain was Professor McGonagall. She led them into a small room off to the side of another set of huge double doors, which presumably led to the dining hall, as there was currently a loud multitude of voices coming from it.
Briefly, Professor McGonagall explained the four houses, and behavioral expectations. She glanced Ryou's way more often than he was comfortable with, before turning towards the door and leaving, informing the m that she would be coming back for them soon. A little after she left, something interesting happened. A mass of pearly, transparent people drifted through the wall, and some of the first years screamed. Ryou supposed that they must be ghosts.
"How strange... I've never known such ghosts. Not ones that seem so content." the Spirit of the Ring muttered. The only ghosts he'd known were the cursed dead of Kul Elna, his village, and Shaadi, and they were certainly not like this. For one, those of Kul Elna did not have discernible form, and they did not talk to people. Rather, they killed whoever was unfortunate enough to stumble upon them. And as for Shaadi, he was practically alive, as he was tangible, ordinary colored, and definitely did not act like a dead person.
Before Ryou could respond to the spirit's comments, Professor McGonagall returned and led them out into the great hall. The albino already knew what was waiting, and sure enough, he spied a ragged hat upon a stool at the front of the hall. Its brim opened wide, and it began to sing loudly about the four houses. While Ryou puzzled over its hymn, the spirit was busy glaring up at the staff table-- or at least, trying to glare from the body's peripheral scope of vision, which he could not change.
"Yadonushi, look up there. That's the disgusting lady from Potter's trial. What in the name of Ra is she doing here?" he demanded, growling. Ryou looked, and confirmed what the spirit had seen. He couldn't deny that she repulsed even him. It looked like she had attempted to dress cutely, but botched the attempt due to her hideous face, worse than most of Ryou's deck's monsters. In any case, the simpering expression she wore did not help her look any better. Both Ryou and the spirit suddenly perked to attention as they caught the last lines of the Sorting Hat's song.
"Oh, know the perils, read the signs,
The warning history shows,
For our Hogwarts is in danger
From external, deadly foes
And we must unite inside her
Or we'll crumble from within
I have told you, I have warned you...
Let the Sorting now begin."
"That sounds depressing..." Ryou began. He seriously doubted that the hat's song was that way every year. It just didn't seem likely. He hoped that nothing went terribly wrong this year, for he felt that trouble always followed him, no matter where he went, and he wanted to break the curse.
"Indeed, host. All the more reason to be on our guards."
Ryou noticed that everyone was staring at him, and muttering loudly to boot. He scowled slightly at the unwanted attention, but decided that he could bear it. In any case, the hall fell into a hush when Professor McGonagall glared at the talking students. She began reading from the list in her hands.
"Abercrombie, Euan." she called out. A tiny, shaking boy stumbled towards the stool with the hat, and sat down, dropping the huge cap on his head. After a moment, the hat called out,
"GRYFFINDOR!"
The sorting continued, and Ryou waited with mounting anticipation mingled with slight fear as his name approached. Bailey, Jared was sorted into Ravenclaw, and Baltar, Damien became a Hufflepuff.
"Bakura, Ryou." the professor called. Ryou was nervous despite himself, and the wave of whispers that followed him up to the stool wasn't helping. He sat down shakily and put on the hat.
"Ah, interesting, interesting. You are a hard worker, I see. But you always have your goals in sight... The ends justify the means. You're also very intelligent, and you learn quickly, but I see you don't go out of your way to seek knowledge." the hat said in his mind. It didn't seem to notice that there was two of him, or if it did, it was not saying anything.
"I suppose." Ryou responded.
"Yes, I'd say you're more cunning than thirsty for information. And not very brave I see... You'd better be in..." the hat paused for a moment, "SLYTHERIN!"
xxxxxx
Footnotes:
1. Yeah, I got tired of "Ryou's worst fear is his yami," so I figured I'd take a shot at the spirit's worst fear. So, I bet that Bakura's worst fear is Zorc. But Zorc is possessing him right now and doesn't want his plans screwed up, and so I went for the next best thing: Akhenaden. Since the priest is Zorc's vessel later on anyways, I figured it was essentially the same thing. Although the death of his village is probably the spirit's worst memory, not fear, I felt that Bakura needed something to at least momentarily trigger his fear over his anger, and I'd say that Zorc manifested during the ritual, so something had to happen.
2. Remember all that wizard superstition about elder wands? This is why Ollivander is kind of being weird.
3. In case you are entertaining creepy fantasies about this, let me smack you back to real life. Or real canon. Whatever. Dramatic irony, everyone, we know that Bakura is NOT a vampire (I hope we all know this) and in fact being influenced by Zork. Dude, that's how Zork & Pals started, weird influence.
