20k words! In celebration here is a slightly longer than usual chapter. The longer length is also due to the long wait, along with that I copied several sentences and almost an entire section. So yipee, for my hatred of copying from the book you get to read DADA class!
/Hikari to yami, yami to hikari/
-/Mental connection with the Rod/-
He walked. A cowl was pulled down low over his face, obscuring his vision and preventing anybody from seeing his face. That didn't matter. They all knew who he was, and he needn't know who anyone else was. The ritual demanded it, and so he complied.
A low drone buzzing in the background rose to a point where it could be identified as chanting. The language involved clicks and rolled vowels, remnants of the civilization lost to humanity. Words overlapped again and again, an effect achieved either through hundreds chanting or in a cave. The single black candle he carried flickered its light on the crystals forming in the walls, reinforcing the latter theory. The narrow tunnel opened and the chanting suffered a tragic increase in volume, the echo now bouncing over a wide area.
His strides never breaking in flow, he took care not to disturb the small piles of gold pooling at his feet. A stand appeared in front of him, its top bare. He placed the candle on it, pulling his hand away as it flared with life. The chanting ceased as torches circling the cavern roared to life, lit by wands at the signal. A smile spread over his face at his illuminated prize, but he hadn't won it yet. Two hooded figures broke from the circle of chanters, coming forward, objects emerging from beneath their robes. One held out a staff covered in engravings like a wand, resuming the chanting from before. The other chanted different lines, waving a bone pendulum and scattering a dust over the head of his prize.
He stepped back into a small circle, double checking the inscribed runes as he did so. Finding no fault, he began a chant himself, sending the other two scrambling to rejoin the circle.
A giddy satisfaction filled him as his prize raised its head, shaking open leathery wings. Coins and priceless items slid to the ground, creating a cacophony of noise over the chanting. His prize yawned, melting a mountain of gold in the process. It seemed to become aware of the other presences in the cavern, and lowered its head so hot, humid breath blew back the hood on he.
He met the dragon's glare, speaking in an unwavering, commanding tone.
"By the constraints of the circle and the chain of runes, I am your master! You will obey my will!"
The glare from the dragon continued, the dragon unmoving from its place. The room froze in anticipation, hearts skipping beats at this moment for their lord's power to peak.
"I charge you to tell me your name!"
The dragon's body racked with a low rumbling sound - laughter, he realized.
"Insolent human. haven't you ever wondered how those ancient people died out so quickly?"
Still laughing, the great beast opened its maw, fire erupting like lava from a volcano.
Ryou sat up, frantically looking around for something familiar, having been Bakura's host long enough to know he could be in an entirely different place after a single blink. Thankfully, he was in bed, at Hogwarts, and not about to be incinerated. Speaking of which, that 'dream' was strange. It felt too surreal to have been Bakura in possession of his body, and he always dreamt from a third-person point of view, not at a first-person angle. He considered that it might have been a vision, but he'd never had one before and it would be too much trouble to wake up Bakura to ask him about it.
Ryou took another look around the room, watching the sleeping forms of his fellow students in the dark for another minute. One of them - Harry, he recognized, - turned over in his bed, restless. Reassured, his head fell back on the pillow.
-/Ryou! Wake up or you're going to be late!/-
The surprise of the mental alarm clock caused Ryou to jump, knocking him off the bed. He landed inches away from one of Bakura's traps, which he disarmed. A quick scan of the room told him that he'd slept rather than rested his head. He dressed in his uniform and white robes and ran down to the common room, where he found Malik waiting for him.
Malik answered the question forming in Ryou's head, "It's safer to wake you up this way."
They headed to the Great Hall, where Ryou felt out of place, being a speck of white in a sea of black. Bakura's comment on how the robe matched his hair didn't reassure him.
McGonagall caught the two as they came in and said she'd been looking for them. Ryou grabbed a quick breakfast and left for his History of Magic class. He managed to get there relatively early, assisted in his journey by kind portraits. He spent some time pacing nervously in a circle panicking about being lost before he discovered he could ask a portrait. After that, he arrived, with a few students already there. What lifted some weight from him, was that they were asleep and as such couldn't gawk at his hair or robes.
No such luck with everyone else filing in the room. Some froze and gaped, others walked to their seats before fully processing his appearance, and the rest whispered to their friends.
"Why isn't he wearing the school robes?"
"What's a Slytherin doing here?"
"That's freaky hair."
"He looks like a ghost."
At the last comment Bakura laughed, but Ryou had long learned to ignore both the comments and the laughter. He'd managed to muddle through all of his previous schools despite his hair, effeminate looks, comas and memory gaps. With those last two no longer a problem, a wizarding school should be somewhat normal for him.
"Ryou?" Ryou turned around to Harry behind him. Ron seemed to be pointedly looking away from him. "Why aren't you wearing the school robes?"
"These are my school robes. Professor Dumbledore-"
Ryou cut off as a ghost flew through the blackboard, pulling his attention away from Harry. Bakura chuckled at his hikari's easily distracted nature.
Ryou giggled softly at the reprimanding Hermione gave Ron after the redhead interrupted what might have been a conversation between Cho and Harry. Hermione heard and whirled on him, surprise evident on her face.
"Ryou! Why aren't you wearing the school robes?"
Right to the point, with the same words that came out of Harry's mouth earlier.
"These are my school robes." Ryou pointed out the Gryffindor crest to them. "See?"
Hermione huffed. Ron's scowl deepened and he said, "She was wondering why your robes are white."
Ryou's gaze dragged to the floor. After a moment of internal debate, sans Bakura, he smiled at them.
"If you don't mind, I'm still getting used to it, so I'd rather not explain it yet."
Hermione, a bit put out, nodded. Harry and Ron looked like they wanted to say something, but she shushed them.
Their eyebrows went to their hair when they turned around and saw Ryou's robes black, but didn't have the chance to comment on it.
"Settle down." All fidgeting and such ceased the moment the door closed. The professor, Severus Snape, swept over to his desk and stared at them all, sending particularly hard glares at any who reacted to the burn covering half his face.
"Before we begin today's lesson," said Snape, sweeping over to his desk and staring at them all, "I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of this class undoubtably are, I expect you to scrape an 'Acceptable' in your OWL, or suffer my...displeasure."
His gaze lingered on a chubby, round-faced boy, who gulped.
"After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me," Snape went on. "I take only the very best into my NEWT Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying goodbye."
His eyes rested on Harry and his lip curled. Harry glared back.
"But we have another year to go before that happy moment of farewell," said Snape softly, "so, whether or not you are intending to attempt NEWT, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high pass level I have come to expect from my OWL students. Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Level: the Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation."
Ignoring the warnings of mistakes, Bakura flipped to the page containing the instructions in his Potions textbook. His eyes lit up in fond remembrance as he scanned over the page, his mind bringing forth a concoction he himself had made and perfected to fit this same description. The process was almost exact, with Egyptian alterations.
"-you will find everything you need in the store cupboard. You have an hour and a half...start."
Bakura was first to the stores, rummaging through ingredients to find what he remembered from so long ago. The...eccentric look on his face and choice of ingredients caught Snape's eye, but the potions master left him alone, curious as to what would happen.
Not fully satisfied with his raid, he dug out his bag and pulled forth a packet of leaves. Into his cauldron went several ingredients in the form of powders and fluids. As Bakura didn't know a spell for heating the potion, he received the help from another student. He worked away the hour, hovering over his potion, ignoring the hissed worries from Hermione.
Snape swept over the students' potions, awarding points to one half of the room despite mistakes that would kill the drinker and stealing just as many points from the other half despite similar results. He sneered at the correct silver vapor rising from Hermione's cauldron and swept past without a word. Snape had started his examination in the far corner of the room, working his way through those he seemed biased for before working from the back to the front of those he seemed biased against. Which left his last 'victim' as Bakura.
Snape said nothing, watching the spirit's procedure. Bakura returned the silence in kind. This lasted a few sparse minutes, up until Bakura set a book to cover the top of the cauldron, and leaned back in his chair, smirking at the success of partaking in the art of potion-making once again. He then decided to address his silent spectator.
"Can I help you?"
"I told you to brew the Draught of Peace."
Bakura chuckled at the name, earning a questioning look from his interrogator. "And so I did." (1a)
"Bakura, are you aware of the differences of the recipes in the book and on the board?"
"I followed neither, so I wouldn't know."
"Then what did you brew?"
"The Draught of Peace."
Snape upturned his nose and scoffed.
"Fill one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with your name and bring it up to my desk for testing," said Snape to the rest of the class. "Homework: twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making, to be handed in on Thursday."
Bakura gingerly lifted the book from his cauldron, smirking as the liquid beneath deepened from cream to a smoky purple. He ladled it into a flagon and had another student banish the rest. The remainder of the class he spent having a laugh at the failures others had produced. A few students quickened their pace, suddenly frantic to avoid anything less than the highest grade. When the bell rang, Bakura noted that Harry was first out the the dungeon, and let Ryou walk to the Great Hall.
"Ryou." Ryou turned around to see Hermione and Ron, the former appearing apologetic, the latter scowling.
Hermione, the one who spoke, said, "We're sorry about our attitude earlier." Ron muttered something, to which Hermione answered with an elbow to the ribs. "We don't know you very well, so there was no reason for us to act that way toward you."
It was an apology. An attempt to get on Ryou's good side by righting a wrong, no matter that there was no wrong. Regardless, Ryou decided to ignore the underhanded trick, smiling at them. "It's fine. There was no harm done."
Hermione nodded as though satisfied, her plan having done its job. Her tone changed drastically with her next words, unknowing to her that it reinforced the idea that she tricked him. "How did you finish the potion so quickly? Lupin said you were new to the wizarding world, yet just now you demonstrated enough knowledge to come up with a new recipe for the Draught of Peace on the spot!"
Ryou blinked in surprise and he skittered away. "I-"
Hermione didn't allow him to begin. "Your robes changed to the proper color the moment we entered the Potions classroom, and you talked back to Snape. It was like your personality-"
She cut off, and Ryou was sure she would have stopped in her tracks had she not paused to interrogate him. Taking this opportunity, Ryou fled down the corridors. At the first corner, he melded into the shadows. Bakura took over to teleport them to the Great Hall.
Ryou poked his head up through the trapdoor, sneezing as the faint smell of flowers tickled his nose. He climbed up and made a beeline for the window, which thankfully was open to let the room air out.
Lamps hung from the ceiling and a warm fire helped light the room, providing a serene crackling. Ishizu sat criss-cross in the middle of the circle of tables, reading a book. Ryou noticed Harry sat in a position similar to Ishizu on the floor at a low circular table. As there were no chairs, Ryou imitated the two and sat at a table near the window.
Over the next few minutes the rest of the class poked their heads in, exclaiming at the lack of overwhelming fragrances and how they could see the classroom. They sat identical to Ishizu, sparing the seating arrangement a glance before awing at the hieroglyphs on the walls and ceiling. Ryou craned his neck to join them, reading a tale about one of the Gods. Blond hair and a dark-skinned face filled his vision.
"Malik!" Ryou gasped.
"Greetings, Ryou," Malik tilted his head, in the same manner one would use to greet a second person, before continuing, "Bakura."
Anyone watching would have passed the pause as a speech impediment, lapse in the translation spell over the non-English name, or another thought popping up in Malik's head to interrupt.
Malik sat down, laughing when Ryou brought his head to its proper position and sat there, blinking away the stars and sudden dizziness.
"Malik, why are you here?" Ryou asked once the blood levels in his head returned to normal.
"Dumbledore had me tested and assigned me to classes that corresponded to my skill levels," Malik answered. "I have seventh year Ancient Runes after this."
"Ancient Runes sounds interesting. I was just assigned these classes."
Malik smirked. "Fifth year Ancient Runes studies Egyptian. You would have learned nothing that you do not already know. Perhaps Dumbledore wanted you to be with your age group since you are new or Isis chose the classes for you."
Ryou shrugged. His robes turned black and he ceased all interest in the decoration in favor of examining the book on the table.
Malik laughed. "Come to grace us with your presence, Tomb Robber?"
Bakura's red eyes didn't move from the book. "Why are you speaking like that?"
Malik's grin grew wide at having finally been found out. "The translation spell, my dear spirit, has many forms. Including a version to translate my many ramblings to a high-class scholar English."
"You sound like Charles Dickens."
"That is not so," Malik said, shaking his head sagely. "I daresay my words come out more akin to Darles Chickens."
"The spell readings your words before they leave your lips and translates them to English, right?"
"Correct."
The book slammed down on the table and Bakura stared at Malik. "How the Shadow Realm are you able to manipulate pronunciations!" (1)
Malik shrugged.
"That brings up another question: how are you able to say Ryou's name?"
"That's a different matter. Names have a certain degree of magic imbibed in them. Should I say Ryou's name with a different meaning in mind, it might come out as 'complete' or 'cure'. If I say a muggle's name, you would hear the English translation, such as 'game' or 'seahorse'. (2)
Bakura nodded, turning back to the book. However, Ishizu closed her own book, addressing the class and forcing him to pay attention.
"Welcome to Divination. I am Ishizu Ishtal," she introduced with her thick accent. From the blank looks, Bakura gathered that a few had no idea what she just said.
"You will find before you copies of The Dream Oracle, by Inigo Imago. Dream interpretation is a most important means of divining the future and one that will be an asset to everyone in this room, regardless of whether you have the Third Eye or not. (3) You are biased to Divination based on your prior teacher's attitude towards the subject. I assure you, there is more to it than omens of death and having the Third Eye. There are few who do not dream, so there is something that can be useful for everyone here in the studies of dream interpretation."
Ishizu had the attention of everyone in the room, although that may have been from her foreign dress. Whites robes were something of a rarity and most preferred to hide away their expensive jewelry.
"Read the introduction, then divide into pairs and interpret each other's recent dreams."
By the time they had all finished reading the introduction of the book, they had barely ten minutes left for discussing dreams. Two boys nearby immediately started going on about a nightmare involving scissors and hats, while Ron and Harry pestered each other in tired voices to start talking. Malik and Ryou flipped through their books, eyes lighting as they came across the meanings of long-ago dreams.
Ryou found Malik's book shoved upon him. "My dream of the night before is found!"
"A graveyard?"
Harry's attention flickered to the two, but it was only a fraction as he split it to pay the same attention to Ron's talk about Quidditch. Bakura noticed it and almost wanted to yell at Ryou when he didn't.
"You either fear the unknown or you are feeling a loss." Ryou looked at Malik expectantly.
"The shadows have long been considered the 'unknown', however, I've lived alongside them my entire life. I haven't lost anything or anyone unless you count the Ghouls, and they would come crawling back the moment I called them."
"As a hikari, you naturally fear the shadows," Ryou pointed out.
"Have you had any dreams about graveyards?"
Ryou shook his head. "I used to, but I know those weren't because of the shadows. The closest my dreams might get to that would be the one I had last night. I dreamt I was walking through a cave and there was chanting everywhere."
Their conversation had almost all of Harry's attention. He hissed something to Ron, whose eyes widened and turned to them with a horrified look. This peaked Bakura's intrigue, so he allowed his yadonushi to continue talking.
"I carried a lit black candle and I was dressed in black robes with a hood pulled down so I could barely see anything," Ryou narrated, focusing on the details, knowing they were important for dream interpretation. "I could tell I was in a cave, though, and I walked through a tunnel."
"Candle: 'To see a burning candle in your dream, signifies that good luck and hope will be coming your way in small and steady amounts. You are in a comfortable stage in your life and may be seeking spiritual enlightenment. Lit candles are also symbolic of intellect, enlightenment, awareness or the search for truth.' Robe: 'To see or wear a robe in your dream, signifies personal issues that you need to confront. The dream may also refer to your secret desire to let loose.' There's nothing about barely seeing, but there's blindness: 'To dream that you are blind, represents your refusal to see the truth or your lack of awareness to a problem. Perhaps you are rejecting something about yourself or your situation.' Cave: 'To see or dream that you are in a cave, symbolizes the womb and thus signify refuge, protection and concealment. To dream that you are walking in a dark cave, represents an exploration of your unconscious mind. It signals self discovery.' Tunnel: 'To dream that you are going through a tunnel, suggests that you are exploring aspects of your unconscious. You are opening yourself to a brand new awareness. Alternatively, it indicates your limited perspective as in the phrase "tunnel vision".'"
Malik stared at the book, then at Ryou. "None of this sounds anything like you. Does it ring any bells?"
Ryou shook his head. "Nothing, except maybe the first part of the cave definition, but that doesn't fit the dream."
"Anything else about the dream?"
"Well, the tunnel opened into a big room, filled with other robed people, treasure, and a dragon."
"Treasure: 'To dream that you find treasures, indicate that you have unveiled some hidden skill or talent. It also symbolizes your self worth and what you have to offer to the world. Alternatively, the dream may be a metaphor for something or someone that your value or "treasure".'" Malik looked surprised. "That one makes sense. You recently discovered you were a wizard; a hidden skill. It might also be telling you that you treasure your dark."
Bakura growled in the back of Ryou's mind. To speak of darks when Harry and his friend were listening! Since Ryou didn't notice the onlookers, he presumed Bakura was angry at the 'treasure' comment. He smiled at the mental image of his yami being protective of him.
To Malik, he said, "That doesn't fit the dream either. In it, I completely ignored all of the gold, instead thinking of the dragon as 'my prize' that had yet to be won."
"Dragon: 'To see a dragon in your dream, represents your strong will and fiery personality. You tend to get carried away by your passion, which may lead you into trouble. You need to exercise some self-control.'" Malik arched an eyebrow at Ryou. "This sounds more like the spirit."
"We have different dreams, so that isn't it at all."
Malik shut his book with an exasperated sigh. "Either we're looking up the wrong things or dream interpretation is a waste of time."
The bell rang at that moment, and they left after Ishizu assigned keeping a dream diary as homework. Malik stayed behind in the classroom, saying he didn't feel like walking to Ancient Runes and would instead shadow transport there. Ryou set off with Ron and Harry, since he didn't know where the DADA class was.
When students entered the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom they found Professor Umbridge already seated at the teachers desk, wearing the fluffy pink cardigan of the night before and the black velvet bow on top of her head.
The class was quiet as it entered the room; they put an effort into appearing to be rule-abiding, snapping shut mouths despite when the silence became tense and giving the toad-like woman rapt attention.
"Well, good afternoon!" she said, when finally the whole class had sat down.
A few people mumbled "good afternoon" in reply, muffled by afternoon sleepiness and uncertainty. The majority stayed silent, nerves and rebellion shushing them.
"Tut, tut," said Professor Umbridge. "That won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge'. One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"
"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," they chanted back at her.
"There, now," said Professor Umbridge sweetly. "That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please."
Many of the class exchanged gloomy looks; the order 'wands away' apparently had never yet been followed by a lesson they found interesting. Ryou pulled cut quill, ink and parchment out of his bag. Professor Umbridge opened her handbag, extracted her own wand, which was an unusually short one, and tapped the blackboard sharply with it; words appeared on the board at once:
Defence Against the Dark Arts
A Return to Basic Principles
"Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it," stated Professor Umbridge, turning to face the class with her hands clasped neatly in front of her. "The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your OWL year.
"You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centred, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please."
She rapped the blackboard again; the first message vanished and was replaced by:
Course Aims:
1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic.
2. Learning to recognise situations in which defensive magic can legally be used
3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.
For a couple of minutes the room was full of the sound of scratching quills on parchment. When everyone had copied down Professor Umbridge's three course aims she asked, "Has everybody got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?'
There was a dull murmur of assent throughout the class. Ryou raised his hand. Umbridge's beady eyes snapped to him, something which would have made him cringe had he not used a fiend deck.
"Yes, dear?" Umbridge asked, as though she had no idea why he had his hand up.
Ryou felt a light dusting of pink cover his face. "I don't have a copy."
A wave of her stubby little wand and Ryou had the textbook in front of him. Bakura had thrown his own copy in to the 'waste of time' pile back at Grimmauld Place and had indulged his inner pyromaniac.
"I think we'll try that again," said Professor Umbridge. "When I ask you a question, I should like you to reply, 'Yes, Professor Umbridge', or 'No, Professor Umbridge'. So: has everyone got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"
"Yes, Professor Umbridge," rang through the room.
"Good," said Professor Umbridge. "I should like you to turn to page five and read 'Chapter One, Basics for Beginners'. There will be no need to talk."
Professor Umbridge left the blackboard and settled herself in the chair behind the teacher's desk, observing them all closely with those pouchy toad's eyes. Ryou turned to page five of his borrowed copy of Defensive Magical Theory and started to read.
He felt his concentration sliding away from him; he had soon read the same line half a dozen times without taking in more than the first few words. Several silent minutes passed. Nearby, Ron was absent-mindedly turning his quill over and over in his fingers, staring at the same spot on the page. Hermione had not even opened her copy of Defensive Magical Theory. She was staring fixedly at Professor Umbridge with her hand in the air. She continued to stare at Professor Umbridge, who was looking just as resolutely in another direction.
After several more minutes had passed, however, Ryou was not the only one watching Hermione. The chapter they had been instructed to read was so tedious that more and more people were choosing to watch Hermione's mute attempt to catch Professor Umbridge's eye rather than struggle on with 'Basics for Beginners'. Instead of ducking inside his soul room for a more interesting book, Ryou decided to watch how Umbridge could ignore Hermione, curiosity getting the better of him.
When more than half the class were staring at Hermione rather than at their books, Professor Umbridge seemed to decide that she could ignore the situation no longer.
"Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?" she asked Hermione, as though she had only just noticed her.
"Not about the chapter, no," said Hermione.
"Well, we're reading just now," said Professor Umbridge, showing her small pointed teeth. "If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class."
"I've got a query about your course aims," said Hermione.
Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows.
"And your name is?"
"Hermione Granger," said Hermione.
"Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully," said Professor Umbridge in a voice of determined sweetness.
"Well, I don't," said Hermione bluntly. "There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells."
There was a short silence in which many members of the class turned their heads to frown at the three course aims still written on the blackboard.
"Using defensive spells?" Professor Umbridge repeated with a little laugh. "Why, I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?"
"We're not going to use magic!" Ron exclaimed loudly.
"Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr.-?"
"Weasley," said Ron, thrusting his hand into the air.
Professor Umbridge, smiling still more widely, turned her back on him. Harry and Hermione immediately raised their hands too. Professor Umbridge's pouchy eyes lingered on Harry for a moment before she addressed Hermione.
"Yes, Miss Granger? You wanted to ask something else?"
"Yes," said Hermione. "Surely the whole point of Defence Against the Dark Arts is to practise defensive spells?"
"Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger?" asked Professor Umbridge, in her falsely sweet voice.
"No, but-"
"Well then, I'm afraid you are not qualified to decide what the "whole point" of any class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised our new programme of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way-"
"What use is that?" said Harry loudly. "If we're going to be attacked, it won't be in a-"
"Hand, Mr. Potter!" sang Professor Umbridge.
Harry thrust his fist in the air. Again, Professor Umbridge promptly turned away from him, but now several other people had their hands up, including Ryou.
"And your name is?" Professor Umbridge asked Ryou..
"Ryou Bakura."
"Well, Mr. Bakura?"
"Well, it's like Harry said, isn't it?" said Ryou in his soft voice. "If we're going to be attacked, there's a chance we could get hurt or worse."
"I repeat," said Professor Umbridge, smiling like one of the monsters on Ryou's cards, "do you expect to be attacked during my classes?"
Her smile reminded Ryou of his cards, leading him to think about Zorc, and how he had to live with that unnatural darkness fused with his own darkness for several years. Any one of these wizards could be holding a similar secret. Trying not to shudder, he answered with the same answer he would have given had Zorc still been there.
"Yes."
Professor Umbridge talked over him. "I do not wish to criticise the way things have been run in this school," she said, an unconvincing smile stretching her wide mouth, "but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed-not to mention," she gave a nasty little laugh, "extremely dangerous half-breeds.
"You have been introduced to spells that have been complex, inappropriate to your age group and potentially lethal. You have been frightened into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day-"
"Excuse me," Bakura snapped. The students' heads swiveled around to stare at him, astounded at the harsh tone conflicting with the previous soft one. "I haven't been here the past few years. I haven't been to any wizarding school before. I only learned I was a wizard last summer, and already I'm aware that everything here can go to chaos at the mere flick of a wrist. What does that tell you?"
Umbridge ignored him, dismissing his words where the students around him went wide-eyed as they realized what he was implying.
"It is my understanding that my predecessor not only performed illegal curses in front of you, he actually performed them on you-"
Bakura laughed, interrupting her tirade.
"Everyone here has a wand, including myself. If I so wanted to, I could aim it at anyone I choose. Even with my mediocre knowledge of Latin I could put together a suitable spell, and I'm sure it wouldn't be too hard to figure out the wand movement for the Cruciatus Curse."
Students gasped, but Bakura paid no mind, continuing with a low chuckle, "I'm sure Dumbledore has informed you of my...mental health."
He broke into a high-pitched laugh. The students leaned away from him.
Umbridge pulled a small roll of pink parchment out of her handbag, stretched it out on the desk, dipped her quill into a bottle of ink and scribbled something. She rolled it back up and tapped it with her wand, sealing itself seamlessly.
"Take this to Professor McGonagall, Mr. Bakura, dear," she said, waving her wand so it floated over to him. Bakura smirked at the obvious ploy at avoiding coming any closer to him, making her flinch. He took the roll and left the room looking pleased with himself. He walked down the corridor, waiting until he was certain he was out of earshot.
"That was fun. I think I'm going to like it here." Bakura laughed, but it abruptly cut off.
Ryou hung his head. "Second day of term, on my birthday and you've already gotten me in trouble!"
/Now find McGonagall's office before a teacher finds us and gets you in more trouble for being out of class./
Ryou made a noise similar to a squeak and set about asking the portraits. They were startled at first that he seemed to be talking to something that wasn't there, but Bakura coaxed the directions out of them.
Bonus! -The dream interpretation gave me this idea. This technically didn't happen, but if you'd like, pretend it happened during some free time between classes.
"You know, I think I may have figured out the meaning of your dream, Ryou."
"What is it?"
"Maybe you're ignoring your treasure, your dark, in favor of trying to win someone, like wooing someone, that has the same personality as a dragon."
"But who has a strong will and fiery personality, tends to get carried away and often...gets...in...trouble..." Ryou trailed off, sudden understanding dawning on him. His face colored in embarrassment.
Malik chuckled, "Who is it?'
"Malik... the description fits you."
Malik abruptly stopped laughing.
(1a) I at first misspelled "Draught of Peace" and had it as "Draught of Living Death" everywhere it was said. So, this sentence made sense at the time. It might not now, but I still think the potion name has some sort of irony to it, so I kept Bakura's reaction.
(1) "manipulate pronunciations" -Bakura is talking about how Malik first played around with the name "Grimmauld Place." Malik doesn't know English. He heard "Grimmauld Place," but when he hears "grim old place," he hears whatever it is in his native language. So he technically shouldn't have been able to make the connection between the two.
(2) Yugi's name is Japanese for game, while Kaiba's name is Japanese for seahorse. The episodes I watch have very rough, exact (and most of the time funny) translations. This also explains that shadow and wizard magic is different, and that Yugi and Kaiba are not wizards. Ryou has a lot of translations, most of them having to do with spirits.
(3) The Third Eye is something in reference to some myths and religions that attached it to seer abilities, along with the Eye of Horus that appears on YGO characters' heads at times. It's mostly a mix-up with the Seeing Eye that Trelawney initially uses and Ishizu's lack of knowledge of English.
I dream in third person. It's so weird, yet it always feels real. Usually I'm not even in the dream, instead watching it like a movie and calling an anime character 'me'. Well, I do fall asleep thinking about fanfiction crossovers.
In Ishizu's greeting to her class I originally had her give a warning after saying there was more to divination than warnings. It cracked me up after I read over it, but it was hypocritical so I changed it.
All of the dream meanings I found online, and were copied and pasted almost exactly.
For DADA class, I decided to have something happen that hasn't happened in DADA class for all of the HP crossovers I've read so far: Bakura laugh. Also, if you're wondering, Ryou took the place of Dean and I just edited Dean out of Umbridge's monologue. If you took out Ryou's lines, you wouldn't mess up the flow of the story. So, in essence, Umbridge acted like Ryou didn't exist.
I built myself a deck the other day. A shame Yu-Gi-Oh isn't that popular anymore. No one to play against. I have a few cards Bakura uses, but most of Bakura's cards don't actually exist. I used to have a few YGO magazines on the cardplay, but I got rid of those last year, when I thought I would never like it again. I'm thankful I still have a big tin full of cards, along with a case full of different versions of Dark Magician in tiny statue form. (I'm not rebelling against Bakura, honest! I have a Kuriboh statue, that's a fiend monster!)
Okay, forget last chapter, this is a long author's note.
