Wow, I must have been having an off week when I wrote this, it's barely 3,000 words before the edits. I had to fix that, of course C; I wanted to stick this onto the previous chapter, but I decided it was more trouble than it was worth.
All info from the Pottermore site (which is actually where I get most of it, if not from the books).
Edits: usual clean up, added over a thousands new words in a new scene involving Lucius, which has been included at the end.
"Slytherin!" The word boomed over and over in his head as he walked. A chorus of it washed over him. Slytherin, Slytherin, Slytherin.
The room had never seemed so quiet. Maybe it was surprise, or disdain. But then the hall erupted completely. His new house cheered for him and jeered at the other houses, who whispered to each other. A transfer going to Slytherin, even one who was a pureblood, who had never attended a magical school before? What could it mean? Ryou was almost scared to find out. He wanted to throw up.
He was going to be sick.
The walk to Slytherin table felt more like the descent to hell than joining his house, and his feet felt reluctant to cross the room. Eyes followed him as he sat heavily beside his smirking cousin.
"Ryou! So glad you could join us," Draco said, his voice oozing a sense of superiority that hadn't been there in such vast amounts when first they had met. Much of his persona seemed to change around his friends, a front put up to make him seem important to others. Maybe he was important.
/Maybe daddy's money makes him important/
"Draco," Ryou said quietly. "About the train-"
"Forget about it," Draco said with a smirk. "You're a Slytherin now, and Slytherins always have each others' backs. Now we have a chance to prove to you that everything you've probably heard about us from those ignorant lions over there is a lie. Isn't that right, boys?"
"Yeah!" two portly boys echoed, one on either side of Ryou and Draco.
No more was said as everyone fell silent, seeing Dumbledore waiting for the chance to talk. "To our newcomers," he began, "welcome! To our old hands- welcome back! There is a time for speech making, but this is not it. Tuck in!"
An appreciative laugh echoed through the room with an outbreak of applause. Food appeared as he sat down, simply popping out of nowhere and leaving the tables groaning under the weight of the many dishes. The other Slytherins were already digging in, piling plates high with chops and roasted potatoes.
"Alright, everyone, as I was saying before, this is my cousin Ryou Bakura. He's from Japan, so I guess we can forgive him for not knowing what he should." Ryou tried to ignore the insult and smile, but it was tough. "Give him a chance, and I'm sure he'll fit right in."
"So what was the hat talking to you about? Sorting you took almost five minutes," Draco snorted into his steamed vegetables. "What house were you tied with?"
"Er... well, all of them, kinda," he admitted. Indirectly, he had, but he didn't mention that. "So what is Slytherin like?" Ryou asked, changing the subject as he cut into his piece of meat slowly.
"You heard the hat singing, didn't you? Those with pure ancestry belong here," a girl said, smiling at him in a way Ryou wasn't sure he liked. "Pansy Parkinson," she said, sticking out a hand across the table.
"Ryou Bak-"
"We already know. Malfoy told us all about you," a boy to Pansy's left said. "Blaise Zambini. And you'd better not be hanging around with any more Gryffindors, if you know what's good for you."
"Relax, Zambini, I'm sure Ryou was just in the wrong carriage at the wrong time. Isn't that right, Ryou?" Draco asked silkily, a slight warning in his tone.
Ryou, picking up on it, nodded vigorously. "Y-yes. I didn't know where else to go," he lied. He knew he said the right thing by Draco's approving nod.
"See? Not a problem," Draco told the others. They all seemed taken in immediately. Of course, Malfoy had no reason to lie to them, did he? But Ryou knew better. Still, Ryou had to wonder- was the lie he told to Ryou's benefit, or Draco's? He didn't want to think ill of Draco, but his cousin seemed a bit more self-serving than most. Even if they were related, would that be enough for Draco to be so warm, especially after the chaos of Ryou's departure from the Malfoy house?
He hadn't considered it much at Grimmauld Place, there was far to much else to think about, but there was plenty of time now to wonder. Just what had happened after that meeting with Voldemort? Ryou sincerely hoped that nothing had happened to Uncle Malfoy, especially not that hurtful spell that Voldemort had used on him. He also hoped that Draco wasn't upset with him. Not that he seemed too angry, but Ryou didn't know for sure. Actually, he seemed fairly cordial, all things considered. Maybe there was something to this whole 'pure-blood' thing after all...
They finished eating, Ryou picking at his pudding quietly and listening as the others chatted about what they did over the summer. As bellies filled and the noise level began creeping up again, Dumbledore stood up again and let silence fall.
"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices," Dumbledore began. "First years ought to know that the forest is out of bounds to students- and a few of our older students out to know by now too."
At this Draco smirked, as if recalling something amusing. Ryou wanted to ask what was so funny, but didn't get the chance.
"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four hundred and sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch's office door."
"Like that's stopping anyone," Draco muttered to the amusement of some of the other Slytherins.
"We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."
Unenthusiastic applause rang through the room. Pansy looked gleeful. "Looks like that fat oaf isn't here this year," she said.
"Excellent," Draco said, looking equally delighted.
"Excuse me, but who would you be talking about?" Ryou asked.
"His name's Hagrid," Zambini grumbled. "Worst teacher in the school. At least you can sleep in Binn's class..."
"Why is he so bad?"
"He's always bringing these awful creatures to class..." Millicent groaned.
"Remember that time that Hippogriff attacked you, Draco?" Pansy asked.
Draco pulled a face.
Dumbledore, however, hadn't stopped talking. "Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on the-"
"Hem, hem," the toad-like woman in florid pink said, and Ryou realized with some difficulty that she was actually standing, as she was hardly taller than she was when sitting. Dumbledore graciously sat as if he would have liked nothing more than to listen to her talk, but the others in the hall were all in varying states of shock. Ryou quickly assumed that interrupting the Headmaster's speech was a real no-no at Hogwarts.
"Thank you, Headmaster, for those kind words of welcome." The woman gave another of the fluffy, throat-clearing coughs and continued to talk, her voice breathy and little-girlish. "Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say! And such happy little faces looking back at me! I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!"
"Does she think we're three?" Pansy shrieked under her breath.
After another clearing of her throat, she spoke with a much more business-like tone. The speech was significantly less fluffy than earlier.
Even the most diligent listeners tuned her out after a while, and not even Ryou listened to the entire thing, tuning in and out at odd intervals. Most people paid her words very little mind, and Ryou found his eyes rolling over to Harry, Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table. As far as he could see, the Gryffindors were paying about as much attention to the speech as he was, Hermione excepted. She had her eyes glued to the woman in pink, and unlike the others in similar positions, her eyes weren't glazed over or unfocused.
Ryou wasn't one to be rude, and he would have listened, but it was tough to do. Her words floated in one ear and out the other. He didn't worry too much about it. She looked like she'd be a very nice teacher, and he was excited to attend her class.
But dinner flew by, regardless of the new professor, Umbridge. It wasn't long before people began to stand and leave the tables. Draco and Pansy stood and walked to the head of the table.
"Where are you going?" Ryou asked nervously, not wanting to be left behind with the two overlarge boys that were Draco's cronies. Though supposedly being in the same house made them 'family', he couldn't help but wonder just how close-knit this particular family was. He'd heard some awful things about the house, after all.
"I'm a prefect," Malfoy said, sounding as if he wasn't quite as satisfied about it as he was before. "I have to lead the first-years down to the common room." Perhaps he enjoyed the perks more than the responsibilities.
"Oh..." Ryou said softly.
"You're supposed to come, too, you know. You're technically a first-year, too," Draco mentioned, and Ryou brightened immediately. "Come on, I'll show you the the way," he said before continuing to bellow, "First-years this way! This way to Slytherin common room!"
Draco studiously watched as a crowd of nervous eleven-year-old's gathered around him, lost and unknowing about protocol. When kids stopped appearing, Pansy and Draco began walking the kids plus Ryou to a revolving stairwell. When Ryou said revolving, he did mean revolving- the stairs were moving.
And then he caught a passing glimpse of Ron and Hermione. That hadn't seemed to notice him, climbing up with a group of their own eleven-year-old's. He wondered for a second why all of them were cautiously skipping the same step, when one of them failed to leap up and he sunk to his knee in the stair. A couple others helped him out, laughing nervously as all small children do when uncomfortable.
He looked back to the prefects of his own house, who were laughing somewhat coldly at the same scene Ryou had just witnessed. They led the group down, rather than up, the stairs, and soon the Gryffindors were out of sight.
"Alright, kiddies, Slytherin common room is down in the dungeons," Pansy began dryly. "The dungeons are huge, so don't get lost. The Bloody Baron isn't big on helping first-years like you most of the time. You lot always ask why he's all bloody and he doesn't like that."
"Snape's class is down in the dungeon, though, which makes getting to early morning double potions much easier," Malfoy added. A groan rippled through a few of the students, as if double morning potions wasn't quite the treat it could be.
"What else were we supposed to say?" Pansy whispered to Draco, who shrugged and led the way through a secret passage to a huge, green-tinged panel set deep into the stone wall. The shape was arched like a doorway, but lacked any notable features of a door. It was just a slab of wood, lacking any hinges or handles or any other signifying marks.
"Draught of Peace," Draco said, and a silver set of hinges and a gilded silver handle materialized where they should. "The door is protected by a password, which changes every fortnight. Remember to check the noticeboard for that and..."
"And don't tell other houses the password! None of the other houses have entered this place in more than seven centuries, and we aren't about to let that happen now," Pansy added.
"I think that's everything," Draco said, grasping the handle. There was a collective intake of breath as he pulled the door open.
After all of the straggling first years blocking their path had gone inside, Pansy and Draco entered the room, Ryou following close behind. Now that he had stepped inside, there was nothing stopping his stifled gasp.
Being so far underground and close to the lake, Ryou had been expecting it to be dank and dreary. It was quite the contrary. The stone walls were decorated with what could only be notable ex-Slytherins. A tapestry emblazoned with the name 'Merlin' and picturing a scowling, grey-bearded man made Ryou wonder if he was looking at the Merlin of muggle fame.
Above his head, silver lanterns lit up a large number of low backed green and black couches that were scattered around thick, cozy rugs. Fires cackled merrily from their silver braziers, throwing up a feeling of warmth around the room. A number of Slytherins were lounging around the room, many of them filling the chairs and chatting easily.
"Come on, Ryou, I bet they put you in our room. We've had an extra bed in there for years," Draco said, beckoning to Ryou.
He climbed up to the boy's dormitory, following Draco. The room itself was welcoming. More of the silver lanterns clung like gilded flowers to the ceiling, throwing light on four-poster beds hung with green silk. A window in the room displayed a sweeping, undersea vista. Waves lapped at the walls, echoing peacefully. His new steamer trunk was laid out beside a neatly-made bed.
Inside, Zambini, Crabbe, and Goyle were unpacking their cases. Blaise was already unpacked, finishing with the last folded pile of robes. With a small wave, he went down to the main area to talk with the others.
As soon as he was gone, Draco turned to Ryou, his tone thoroughly business-like. "So, Ryou, where's Bakura gone?"
"He's... somewhere, I'm sure," Ryou replied in a measured tone.
"You know, I still don't know anything about him. For one, just who is he? Friend, long lost relative?"
"He's just a friend."
Malfoy nodded slowly for a moment, as if letting it sink in. "Tell me, Ryou, is Bakura human?" he asked casually, placing a neatly folded tie into a drawer by the bed.
Clunk! The loud, abrasive sound of Ryou's pewter cauldron striking the floor echoed through the room. A twitch of his hand had knocked it from the relative safety of the steamer trunk.
"W-what makes you say that?" Ryou asked, trying to make his shoulders stop shaking with evident surprise. Bakura was laughing from inside of the soul room.
"Well, mostly its from what my father told me about what happened the day you left."
"What did he say?"
"From what I heard, Bakura just appeared out of nowhere and stopped the Cruciatus Curse. I didn't believe him at first, of course, but he did vanish just before you did, and he didn't make a sound. Appariting is noisy, you know. And normal people don't just grab spells out of thin air."
"Well, you see-"
"And just how did he do that thing with the card game? I felt awful after that. What exactly did he do? Is he some sort of solid ghost? A banshee?"
Ryou fell dead silent. His chest shook once, and the corner of one lip curled slowly. Ryou began to laugh. He laughed and laughed and laughed, and Bakura laughed right along with him.
"What? What's so funny?"
Ryou continued to laugh, but as he wiped away tears of mirth, the chuckles began to subside.
"It's just, no one's ever called Bakura a banshee before," he said, giggles still periodically slipping out. An invisible, laughing Bakura materialized into a more solid form.
"Hikari, your cousin is much cleverer than I suspected!" Bakura cackled.
"You speak English!" Malfoy said.
"Yeah, the English is new," Bakura quipped, smirking.
"W-where did he come from?" Crabbe asked suddenly.
"Yeah, and what's going on?" Goyle added.
Ryou whipped his head up. To be honest, Ryou had completely forgotten they were there, so silently they had been unpacking. Both Crabbe and Goyle looked paler than before. But Draco only shook his head.
"You can trust Crabbe and Goyle," Malfoy said. "They won't tell anyone. So what's really going on?"
Ryou gave Bakura a small, sidelong glace, but the spirit had already begun examining the room. He took the blow-off as a sign he was fine to continue.
"Well, basically, Bakura's a... how old? Three thousand?"
"Five," Bakura corrected absently, examining Zambini's ties with a look of disdain.
"Yes, five thousand year old spirit who-"
"Hikari, please say you don't have to wear one of these ungodly things every day," Bakura said before Ryou could add any more, glaring at the silver and green fabric.
"I think I do?" Ryou said slowly.
"Damn!" Bakura growled. "Green looks awful on us. We look best in black, although you, for some ridiculous reason, have some unnatural fondness for the color blue."
"I've been meaning to ask you that- why does he look just like you?" Draco asked.
Ryou shrugged. "It's complicated."
"And how did he do all of that... shadow stuff?"
"That's... complicated, too."
"What isn't complicated?" Draco asked, sounding frustrated.
Bakura turned a leery eye on Ryou's cousin. "You bear no connection whatsoever to the shadow mages, other than Ryou. Consider yourself lucky you know what you do."
"That means Bakura doesn't want to tell you any more," Ryou informed his cousin.
"Ra, I feel like everyone wants to know everything about me. So annoying. I blame you, hikari. It's all your fault anyway. If not for your screw up, we'd be home right now. Now about this ungodly thing," Bakura continued.
Ryou smiled. "That's a tie, Bakura. And yes, I'm wearing it."
Draco only frowned. "I still don't understand what's going on."
Bakura waved his hands through the air in a circular motion, saying, "And you never will, if you know what's good for you."
The confusion lingered for only the barest of moments. A smirk spawned on Draco's sallow face. "That sounded almost like a threat," he pointed out.
"You'd better believe it," Bakura said distractedly, settling cross-legged on Ryou's bed. "As for Porky and Pudgy over there," he began, inclining his head towards Crabbe and Goyle, whose spines stiffened immediately in fear at being singled out, "Make sure they don't tell anyone about me. I dislike unneeded attention. Secrecy is... preferable."
"You'll make an excellent Slytherin," Draco said, his lips curling ever higher in satisfaction. Ryou could feel his throat constrict. Just his luck- his darkness and his cousin were going to end up doing something before the year was up, and it would be he who took the fall for it.
Bakura smirked and stood. "Of course I will. I make an excellent , if you'll excuse me, I'm supposed to be meeting the Bloody Baron in the astronomy tower. Apparently there's a troublesome poltergeist he wants to introduce me to," he said, and the glint of a single fang tooth could be seen in the dim light as he vanished.
"Why didn't you just tell me about Bakura in the first place?" Draco asked.
Ryou stared at the floor. "Well, I don't know if you'd believe it, but Bakura doesn't usually let himself be known. He's... kinda secretive."
"I get that, but if you two never tell anyone, why are you just explaining everything to me?"
"Well," Ryou began, smiling a little, "you're my cousin. Family. And you already had it half figured out, anyway. I guess... It's just nice to have family again, and no secrets."
"No secrets," Malfoy agreed.
Ryou sighed and glanced out of the window. A wisp of gray flickered past the window, undulating through the water like the over-large tentacle of a giant squid. Actually, Ryou thought it was the tentacle of the giant squid. The greenish cast to the room was soothing on his eyes, and the soft sound of lapping waves lulled him to exhaustion.
"I'm tired. I think I'm going to go to bed," Ryou mused sleepily, green eyes landing lazily on the rich fourposter bed.
"Alright," Draco replied, stooping low and digging through his almost-empty trunk for a moment. He stood and stuffed a hand in his pocket. "I'm going down to the common room for a while."
"Good night, Draco," Ryou said softly, pulling a pair of pajamas from his own trunk.
"Night."
But Draco didn't stop in the common room. He made his way straight out the door, the hand never leaving his pocket as he walked up the stairs to the owlery. He didn't want to risk having the jar of ink leak onto the roll of parchment, after all. He had a letter to his father to write, and it wouldn't do to have it ruined. No secrets, indeed.
It was dark in Malfoy Manor when the owl arrived, but Lucius was not asleep. He hadn't slept in a week. Not since Ryou and that horcrux had slipped from his fingers. Lucius was a fool to believe that Ryou's friend had been a real Bakura, and he had paid the fool's price for it. This was far, far out of his league. It only took seconds for his life to fall down around him, and he could barely hold the pieces close enough together to keep them from unraveling completely.
He'd spent several days straight carrying out an investigation under the Dark Lord's orders- he and several other trusted servants. It felt less like a compliment and more like a noose. The Dark Lord, of course, was furious. And he had every right to be. Lord Voldemort wanted this magic. He wanted to know everything about it- how it worked, how it had stopped his cruciatus curse, and how it given that child immortality, if those words were to be believed. Voldemort could detect a lie faster than a cat could a mouse. The spirit's words rang with the truth.
That boy, that Bakura, as Ryou had called him, seemed to know the secrets of escaping death's clutches. It was Voldemort who had suggested the idea of Bakura existing as a piece of magic known as a horcrux, a portion of his soul sealed away inside of an object. But from the few sources that Lucius had read, this was impossible. The first horcrux was created in Greece, at most a few centuries B.C. if the texts were to be believed. And Bakura had suggested that he was much older than this...
It was some other form of magic. That was what Lucius believed. Something that wasn't written down anywhere, a secret that was known only to the few and the ancient. Probably something that had been lost to time. If that was the case, then Bakura would be of the most use alive. Of that, Lucius was sure. If this magic was lost to time, then it would do no good to hunt for texts detailing its use. By far, getting the information directly from the source would be the best course of action. That, of course, depended completely on whether or not Bakura would share...
And then there was the Dark Lords other plans- the ones involving the boy who lived. The Potter boy was still an obstacle that needed to be destroyed. Immortality was useless so long as he was alive, or so the Dark Lord said frequently. What Lucius needed was an idea that could tie the two together... A plan that would find Ryou and the spirit, wherever they were holed up, and destroy the last Potter in one fell swoop. A plan like that could be what saved him and his family and put them high in the graces of the Dark Lord, perhaps even his favorite. A plan like that...
The eagle owl hooted dully at him, not pleased that it was being ignored for so long. Lucius glared at the bird, only to pause, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. Draco's owl usually went to the attic or the barn to nest. It never came into his room unless his son had sent a letter, and Draco never sent out post on the first day back at school. But the bird stuck out its leg, showing off the letter that was attached, and Lucius took it. The bird hooted once more and took off, leaving Lucius with a letter signed in green ink by his son's hand.
His eyes skimmed across the letter once, then twice, lips curling up as he reread the letter once more.
An idea was slowly growing in his head. A brilliant little idea that would solve all of their problems. The Malfoys were about to become the most powerful family in the entire wizarding world, and his son would be their ticket there. Draco was clever enough to pull it off, Lucius was sure, and from what he had seen, his nephew was about as gullible and naive as they come. The spirit was much cleverer than the boy, but, if that spirit was bound to Ryou somehow, as Lucius suspected...
Certainly a spirit that would expose himself to protect a child would not then deny that child a small pleasure? The joys of the family he so greatly desired? Why, that spirit would have to be as heartless as Voldemort himself... Lucius did hope that he wouldn't have to hurt Ryou to convince the spirit. He rather liked the ignorant little boy, and he had loved Lucretia long before he had ever loved Narcissa. He would have married Lucretia as well, if not for that damnable Bakura stealing her away first.
It would be such a shame to see his own blood get hurt. But then, that was life, and love, and war. There was nothing to do about it.
Lucius quickly grabbed a few sheets of parchment and a quill off his desk and began to write. And then he smiled again. Today was the second of September. Even better.
Shit just got real.