Continued Survival

Summary: As if dealing with the things life has already thrown at him isn't hard enough, now Ryou is being sent off by his Father to England, to stay with a man named Albus... (Harry Potter and YGO, what else!)

Disclaimer: Alright. Before this goes any further, I just want to state that I in no way own either Harry Potter or Yu-Gi-Oh…

A/N: This. Was. HORRIBLE! And there's very little Ryou in it… Ah well! Big Ryou-terror is coming soon, so just be patient with your poor author, please. She sometimes neglects her main char : )

Chapter 10 Where Everything

The new school year at Hogwarts began without a hitch, the gaggle of children invading its barren halls rousing Peeves from his melancholy haunting of empty classrooms and returning him to his jovial play of tormenting his Ickle Firsties.

It was in the Great Hall, lighted by the lazily floating candles beneath the stormy greys of the enchanted ceiling, that both children and adults gathered, taking their accustomed seats along the five long tables the room hosted-one for the staff, Albus Dumbledore seated in its centre upon a high-backed golden chair, and the others for the students, each of the four placed beneath colourful banners boasting the assigned House's colours and emblem.

Hufflepuff, founded by Helga Hufflepuff, yellow and black, house of the badger; Gryffindor, founded by Godric Gryffindor, gold and scarlet, house of the lion; Ravenclaw, founded by Rowena Ravenclaw, blue and silver, house of the eagle; and Slytherin, founded by Salazar Slytherin, green and silver, the house of the snake.

Professor McGonagall, Headmistress and Head of House to Gryffindor, led a quivering school of fidgety first years out through a grand set of doors in the back of the hall and into the fire-lit chamber to stand in an amazingly straight (considering how small and frightened the children were) line before a rickety stool upon which rested an old, tattered wizards hat.

Following a song, preformed by that hat through a tear in its material, as full of not-so-subtle warning as the last years' had been, those frightened students were sorted by placing it atop their heads. As the hat called out where they belonged, they wasted no time in removing the ragged item from their heads and fleeing through applauding students for the safety of the table where they were told to go.

There were always a few who needed the way to be pointed to them, of course, but several could figure out where they were going by the way the assigned house would be beckoning and making the liveliest uproar.

As the clamour died down and the last student took their place among their future families, Albus Dumbledore rose from his chair, his aged face alight with delight. A hush fell over the Great Hall as its occupants fell still to listen.

"To those newly entering our fine school, welcome!" He beamed at the multitude of new faces strewn out among the four tables. "And to those who have wandered back home-welcome back!" He continued to smile, as twinkling as brightly as the three candles come to soar about his head like loving pets.

"The wise know when to speak. The wiser still know when not to. Tuck in!"

Even before he had seated himself again, the walls echoed with laughter and hundreds of raised voices as the children reacquainted themselves with each other.

Arabella Figg and Eugene Bakura looked exceedingly out of place as they uncomfortably picked at their foot, taking uneasy glances at the crowded hall from which equally uneasy glances were directed their way. The others, even Hagrid, had long since given up on trying to include them in any conversation, instead leaving them to themselves and the discomfort they refused to set aside.

"That ruddy hat should just give up," the lanky, red-haired Ron Weasley commented around a mouthful of potatoes to his friends Hermione Granger, a bushy-brown haired witch who bordered on fanatical when it came to homework, and the skinny, black-haired Harry Potter whose thick-framed glasses were sliding down his nose as he ate. "Might as well try and get Snape to kiss McGonagall."

Those within hearing range all winced at the disgusting images this conjured in their minds, ignoring Hermione's disgruntled chastising of her friend.

Across the noisy hall from the Gryffindor table, a certain bleach-blonde, silver-grey eyed Draco Malfoy snickered as the boy across from him, Blaise Zabini, made a similar comment. The two boys to either side of the young Malfoy carried on eating as if their food might disappear if left to long on their plates, ignoring the conversation.

"I'm tired," Pansy sighed, pouting as cutely as her somewhat puggish, over-painted face would allow. "Dracy, darling, won't you give me and my girls the password so we can go to bed?"

Draco Malfoy did a marvellous job in hiding his grimace at her name for him. "Draco," he said firmly. "And be patient, Pansy. The feast isn't even over yet."

Her lip thrust out farther until Millicent Bulstrode and Tracey Davis drew her into their debate over Witches Weekly's new Most-Charming-Smile winner.

All too soon the feast came to an end, the Headmaster once again rising from his chair.

"Ah! And now, with us all filled to our brims with this magnificent meal, I plea your attention for but a moment more. First years, as well as many of our elder students, should be aware that the Forbidden Forest is, as its name suggests, forbidden. Our caretaker also stresses that there is to be no magic in the corridors between classes, and that it would be a good idea for everyone to rake a peak at his ever-lengthening list of items not permitted on these grounds.

We are once again pleased to welcome two changes in our staff, although this time there will be three faces-two new, and one I believe that some of our older students will recognize. Professor Remus Lupin is returning to us for the Defence Against the Dark Arts job, proving without a doubt that it's curse can't be that bad, and our fresh arrivals, Professors Arabella Figg and Eugene Bakura, will be taking over Muggle-Studies. Please welcome them!"

There was a burst of applause mostly from those in years four and up, where students remembered the sickly, greying man as one of the few teachers in that job who actually held their interest and taught them something. Everyone was thankful that there would be no Umbridge repeat.

When this applause died down and the other standing teachers, those whose names had been called, thankfully reclaimed their seats, Dumbledore drew his speech to a cheerful closing.

"Now, before we toddle off to dream our pleasant dreams of the days to come, lets all join in and weave a greater magic than any other:"

His enthusiastic voice was joined by the students' as they all sang the school song together their disharmony bringing many a member of the staff, Eugene Bakura and Arabella Figg among them, to wince.

"Ah," the Headmaster sighed. "Beautiful as always. Goodnight, now, and remember: Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus. Never Tickle a Sleeping Dragon!"

With these wise words bringing grins to tired lips, the children dispersed, heading for their respective dorms and the beds laid ready in wait for them.

Thunder rolled somewhere outside the rain-streaked window, the flash of a fresh burst of lightening illuminating the chamber for a mere instant. Huddled beneath a thick violet comforter, Ryou clutched the material tightly, knuckles paling with the force of his grip.

He gave a pitiful little sneeze and tensed, half-expecting a bolt of lightening to hone in on that sound and come after him.

Here, in this derelict building, it seemed that the shudders given to it from the storm could bring it crashing upon his head. Storms never bothered him when he could turn on music or the television drown out the sound. Out here he had none of those options.

The rain beating against the window picked up in force, giving Ryou the uncomfortable impression that, soon, the flimsy glass separating it from his chamber would shatter. Then the lightening would get in.

But lightening could pass through glass if it wanted. There were trees all around, and the mansion was tall, why couldn't it go for the roof or the trees instead of him?

Another crash brought the building to tremble. He hoped that his spirit wasn't out in this, it sounded horrible…

Several days had passed since he and the spirit had last spoken. Though he'd seen him a time or two during the day, and slept alongside of him each night. Ryou had done as he'd been told and refrained from speaking to any of those around him save the Egyptians, earning him many pouts from Bellatrix but no trouble from anyone else. It was an easy enough thing to do, really, when the only one there willing to talk to him was a crazy woman.

Ryou was finding himself getting more and more tired lately, wanting to do nothing more than lie in bed while his darkness went about on whatever self-appointed missions he had to complete. Probably from how little he'd been eating since their arrival, he guessed, but he didn't really feel all that hungry anyway. Breakfast was enough, and the odd sandwich and glass of water Rishid would sometimes show up in his chambers with.

His spirit never noticed his dwindling energy, but that was expected. The other hadn't returned to the ring since that night in the snake-man's study, and had never held any real interest in his kitten when there was no obvious problem to be noticed. Maybe the lessening in Ryou's energy was taken as a sign that there would be little resistance if any future plans involved him.

No mice or rats had ever poked their noses out from underneath the bed, so that, at least, had turned out to be a foolish fear he'd had. It seemed odd that he'd heard it so clearly, but maybe it'd been there, found the once empty chamber occupied, and scurried off to someplace it could have to itself. That made sense…

Before dawn blushed over the castle and its grounds, Eugene Bakura received a summons and followed one of those wrinkly, little bat-eared creatures down shifting hallways to the Headmaster's office. A sleepless night of anxiety over facing the cherubic faces of the wee ones of the castle left his mind in a chaotic mess.

With a knock at the top of those stone stairs to Becca's uncle's office and a bid to enter, Eugene found himself face to face with the solemn-eyed headmaster, who donned violet robes with luminescent stars and moons that would be more familiar to one of those 'foolish mockeries of perfectly noble Wizards!', as Becca often said, referring to some book or picture depicting the non-magical view of Wizards. "Good morning, Eugene," the old one greeted gently.

Eugene inclined his head, responding cordially, "And good morning to you, Professo-Albus, I mean." He wondered at the serious air the man held this morning, so different from the night be fore's, and felt a flutter of fear that news may have come over Ryou's situation.

"Tea, son?"

Taken aback by the kindly request at so early an hour, Eugene shook his head in negative. "Thank you, though. Is there news?" What type of information, he wondered, could have come at such an hour? Of course, something may have come to light the night before, and the old one could have merely waited for morning before informing him of the fresh news.

Dumbledore gave a heavy sigh, shaking his own head. "I fear not," he answered. "I only wanted to impress upon you that you needn't teach today if you feel that you can't. Today will be a hard enough day for you, I'm, sure. Arabella would be fine."

Confusion furrowed the Archaeologist's already wrinkled brow. Why would today be any harder than those before, he wondered. Although he dreaded facing the gathering of children he'd be expected to fill with knowledge, Eugene didn't think that he could be cruel enough to leave Mrs. Figg to be smothered by the lambs. "I'm sure that I'll manage, sir," he assured the elder instead.

An even deeper sadness revealed itself in the other's blue eyes at these words, leading Eugene to wonder if he had somehow injured the Headmaster's spirit somehow. "Only if you feel that you must," Dumbledore relented, those blue, blue eyes, no matter how dampened, agelessly sharp. "Still, I know that any father would find it difficult to teach on this day of all days."

Fighting his increasing puzzlement, finding no answer in his mind save that the elder may be referring to all the children gathering where Becca's son should be, he did his best to appear as if he understood. "I assure you, sir, I'll be fine." With a weak smile, he added, "After all, it's only fitting that I repay my stay in some way."

There wasn't much else to be said after this, and he soon left, leaving his confusion behind with the weary Headmaster whose knowing eyes watched him as he exited.

All too soon for Eugene the breakfast ended, and time for his first class begun. Mrs. Figg, now Professor Figg, hadn't made it to the table and he'd been bothered by the idea that she might have skipped out on him, but, as he stood stiffly at the front of the room, a long, brown robe hanging off of his lanky form, she entered in a state of disarray, her hair mussed as if uncombed, with slippers peaking out beneath the orange gown-like robe she was uncomfortably wearing. Fighting the urge to gawk, Eugene greeted her with as much respect as he could tether for such an awkward-looking creature. After all, whatever she looked like and however little held she was probably going to be, she knew more of this world than he did, and they were in this together.

He had only to blink before the expected third-years filled in the empty spaces of the narrow, desk-crammed chamber. Without preamble, or any of the introductions Eugene remembered from the dim days of his boyhood, the thoroughly rattled and snippy Arabella launched into a listing of the 'Do not under any circumstances do'. There were only seven of the creatures there, so Eugene was sure that most would have been impossible for them to pull off anyway, but he was glad to let her take over.

Neither really knew anything about how to teach, after all.

Even before she finished her listing, hands were thrust into the air.

"Is it true that muggles eat mice? Like owls?"

"Do muggles really live in caves?"

"My Daddy says that they skin Wizards and sell their hides!"

"Can they really only know about 80 words? That's all Jake Bennet knows!" At this one, exclaimed excitedly by a pudgy-faced little boy with his hand only half-raised, a round of snickers came from his fellows.

"My big brother said he'd let me have one for a pet if I learned how to mute Mom! Isn't that great?"

Arabella was getting even more rattled than before, her tension visibly rising with Eugene's.

"Dad says they're just like us, only have no magic!"

This comment, declared by a tiny little girl near the front, earned a reply female professor. "Of course they are," Arabella snapped. Then she seemed somewhat unsure of this response, but hadn't the time to make any amendments to this, since raising hands had long since been abandoned.

"Are they edible, like deer and chickens? I mean, they aren't human!"

"Do they look like us? May sure doesn't!" Exclamations of agreement rolled through the chamber, along with other names being thrown in to support this theory, one of which was a 'Dennis'.

"Will we get to meet some?"

Eugene couldn't remember his son ever acting like this during his own brief visits to their housings. How could parents raise their kids to act like this!

As the arguments springing up from this student-raised debate excelled to levels threatening to bleed his eardrums, Arabella exploded and scrawled across the board, 'Muggles are non-magical humans', two lines beneath the humans.

"So… they're squibs?"

Taking comfort in his role of observer, Eugene wondered if this last was a touchy subject with his colleague. He'd heard that word, squib, said before around her, and now, as with then, her eyes certainly sparked.

"Most certainly not!" The intensity of her declaration silenced the room. Muggles haven't any magic. Squibs just don't have enough to channel!"

The end to class couldn't come soon enough. And, even then, their brief respite would only last until the afternoon, when another group, older, would be coming to them.

This Voldemort feared the old man at Hogswart. Night had been spent contemplating this very fact, and Bakura had risen to the conclusion that, if this one spurred such a feeling in one with so many in his power, deeper consideration would have to be taken over the situation and its many facets. The tomb keeper was something that could be used on occasion, but both sides of him were young, and their judgement, while commendable for a mortal, shouldn't be adopted for his own until he himself found it sound.

It could very well be that he'd taken up the wrong side, the losing face, where others could be had. It was obvious that this was no mere two-sided battle. There was a clashing of wills to both sides, where opportunities could be seized upon and moulded into his own liking. And there, at least, his pet might not be so in the way. Perhaps he'd even prove useful, where he had been supposed to be sent there in the first place, to the very old man the snake lord feared.

Once again Voldemort was hissing empty threats and vile curses at the old one's name. Leaning against the wall, watching this all, Bakura let his theories spread themselves out before his mind's eye, running through them critically. He could afford to be patient in this, for anything unsound would have to be cast aside and replaced, for it would not do to have this one questioning this alliance.

That he should suggest this stretching of assistance over the more prominent of the groups to the tomb keeper he'd decided against. It was one thing if the younger Egyptian caught on to these plans and worked with him, quite another if he, the great thief, broached the idea to the other.

"It would be interesting to see this place."

Bakura's comment drew the attention of those surrounding him, sharp eyes trying to pierce the thoughts behind his words.

"I am going there. See these barriers for myself, and just what they teach."

Violet eyes watched calculatingly, owner silent, while Bakura talked his way into where he wanted to be. The questioned connection his light held to the old man seemed to entice Voldemort, for, weakened as he was by the loss of the spy, the man desired a link, no matter how poor, to the school he lusted after. Using this to his advantage, it took little effort for the dark spirit to get his way.

Waking, eating, tending the dolls, sleeping-this was becoming the schedule Ryou lived by. He hadn't bothered leaving their chamber that day, not even for breakfast, and had lain in bed all day, eating only the sandwich brought to him by Rishid sometime around noon. Now, the pregnant moon having arced into its descent, the spirit of the Ring returned to settle into the aged four-poster with him, draping an arm over his light's side.

"I already have two of the items, and the third is practically within my grasp," the spirit purred against Ryou's ear. "Soon I'll gain what is mine by rights." Ryou's unresisting body was pulled tightly against his spirit's as the other chuckled darkly, planning, perhaps, what he would do to Yugi and the Pharaoh. "Marik will not give his part of the bargain without a struggle, no matter Malik's disinterest, but we shall see."

The Spirit of the Millennium Ring wanted only to hear himself speak, so Ryou made no attempt to discourage him, only snuffling softly now and again. He didn't want to hear those soft words, or remember that the future held anything other than the warmth of the bed and the possessiveness of his other half. In the concealment of the night, the anguish of living held no right to sting at his brittle soul. The things he blocked from himself were growing too numerous, the strain eating at him from within.

"Life is eternal, but this matters little. Power is what is important, my little kitten. I will teach you this."

The arm encircling his waist eased its hold, now snug instead of restricting. Careless of the pain in his light's heart, the spirit gave in to sleep. Ryou closed his eyes against the burning behind them, willing himself to relax into the shadowy cradle sleep offered.

End Ch.10

I made it! Blinks Whoa… For such a bland, non-Ryou chappie (I just added the little bit at the end to try and make up for this), I'm actually quite proud. Do I expect you all to like it? No… I admit not… Still, I got this much out, and have now made it past this scene, to where Ryou finds his way to another part of the Wizarding World…

Hoo hoo hoo!

Responses To Reviewers:

Eden's Echo: I'm afraid that I can't tell you what was on the scroll just now, but I can say that I doubt Yugi will be making any appearances, or, at least, any important ones. I'm worried that his joining the school there would make if difficult for Ryou to slowly get to know the people surrounding him. And they'd take away from the attention on Ryou, which I don't want at all! XD

Maruken: Hugs You're back! Whew! Well, lots has happened, but there's a ton more to come! Bakura has to keep a tight leash on Ryou, you see, else the little guy would probably run off and never come back…

The Inspector: Thank you SO much for the wish of good luck! (Btw: LOVE MY JOB!) And look at me, complaining about no new chapters from you and then taking two weeks to update! I'm horrible! The rat was Peter, yes, but it wasn't really important. I just wanted to stick that in to make something happen… Sheepish Grins

The scroll's contents will all be revealed soon, but you're comment about marriage records is setting off little plot-bells in my head. I'm going to have to think some about it… Ryou should be well on his way to the school in the next chapter, if everything goes right. I really, really want to get him there. There's only so much 'sitting around feeling sick' that a guy can do before it gets old, especially for the one writing it!

Pokes a few times Still don't need you yet, but I almost did!

Antago: Snickers Thanks! I liked that line, too! Thank you for reminding me about the little guy's b-day, I almost missed it! Now it's written into the chapter, even though only one person remembers it. I bet you know which one!

Oo, I love long reviews! I hope this chapter answers your questions and gives you lots more!

Rath Set-Seraph: Thank you both! Tips her hat I do my very best, you see!

Peter Kim: I'm not overly sure that the Ygo group will be coming into this. Only Ryou and Malik/Marik for now. Sorry! The agreement they made with Voldemort is still strong, even though Bakura's trying to shift things into his own favour.

Curtis Zidane Ziraa: Oh, don't worry! I wouldn't dare have a bad ending. Still, I'm not sure if this will have a good ending, since I'm not yet sure if I'm making this one or two stories. Still, the long story or smaller, still-long set will definitely have a happy ending when all's finally said and done.

Yami hitokiri: Ohhh! Thank you!! Once again, a review has me all bouncy and hyper! Oh dear… G And don't go doing something that'll keep you from reviewing. I need you here to read my work, dangit!

I'm not sure about Yugi and co, as I've said, but it is a thought. Maybe, after he's settled some, and the first half is completed, I'll think about it. Still, as much as I love them all, I'm not too sure that they'll be coming into this. And, if they do, it'd only really be Yugi, with mention of the others at home…

mystic bunny piper: Thank you! I hope that you still think Ryou's cute in this chapter… with all of a few lines of Ryou-part… why am I neglecting my mc? Sad Sighs Poor guy…

Opal Shadow: Yep! He's Wormtail, squeaking around under the bed to frighten good little boys that are patiently waiting for their big, evil Darknesses! I'm glad that you find this story original. I'm hoping to keep it this way. I think that my keeping Yugi and co. out of the story will help this… Crosses fingers

Hope you like this next part!

Shi-koi: Oh… dear… Blinks a few times You're reviewing my story? Ack!! And I hope tht everything has been better for you lately : )

On a more serious note, I'm extremely grateful for your constructive criticism. Am I writing the characters as if they're diluted? I'll definitely have to work on this. I don't want too much of their ways to show through, since I want to bring them into the story as Ryou meets them, and let his opinions gradually work their way into becoming the role the characters take on in this fiction of mine… Does that make any sense?

Aye, the relationship between Ryou and Bakura isn't very constant. I feel that this makes it more believable that Ryou doesn't know how to deal with his Darkness, since a way the spirit would react one day wouldn't necessarily be the ways he reacts the next.

Thank you so much, again, for your help, the compliments, and the comments on my writing. It's a very big help!

If there's anything that any of you don't like about this, anything that I should change, or that doesn't seem to go right, please let me know. Without you guys reading, I'd never get anywhere in this story! Why would I bother? Nobody to read it makes it boring to write, out that I've tried out putting up my own stories!

Phew! I felt horrid that I couldn't get it out last week, but I was swamped, and there was no way that I could possibly get it put! Sorry about that, everyone. I really hope that you're all still here!

Please, Pleeeeease Review This Strange Creation of Mine Þ