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: Edited as of 01/29/07

Chapter 11 Is a Game

"Bakura, no! My dolls-"

"They'll be brought to you."

Ryou strained against the hand dragging him down night-darkened corridors, his head turned towards the stairway behind them. "Please, Bakura, I can't just leave them!" His begging fell on deaf ears, his darkness continuing to force him towards the exit. Ryou tried again, pleading, "Where are we going? I don't want them here on their own."

Morning had dawned, day had passed, neither differing in the cycles that lately made up Ryou's life. Rishid had come part-way through the day bearing a sandwich which he hadn't felt up to eating, leaving again after dropping that off, likely to find Malik. Then, only seconds ago, his Spirit had barged in on him, seized him by the wrist, and dragged him from bed out into the hall, single-minded stride giving no suggestion of slowing for his weaker part.

"It does not matter to you where we go, you will see soon enough," was all he received for his efforts. "Cease your struggles before I punish you."

Ryou didn't quit. He dug his bare heels into the floor, striving to slow down their progress. He had no clue what this was about, but he was not going to just follow blindly, leaving his already partially shirked duties behind. "I don't even have shoes, Bakura! I need something on my feet or my cold will get worse, summer or not!"

An angry growl washed warm air over his ear and then Ryou was flung forward, crashing to the floor with a shocked gasping of unexpected pain, wrist twisting beneath his weight. "I warned you, little kitten," his spirit hissed.

Blackness washed over his senses, skeletal hands closing bony fingers over his body as the mist overtook him. He'd been locked away within his mind, giving his darkness reign over his body.

Having warned the small one that there would be consequences for in insubordination, Bakura felt no pity for sealing him away. This was going to be done, be it one way or another. He'd merely have to spice the experience up enough to remind his pet just who the master was.

The Death Eaters' target was a large Victorian home suited for the raising of a large family, built upon a moonlit estate decorated with trees to climb and a clear brook, daring to spill free of a protective forest, perfect for the fishing of children. An amber-eyed figure moved free of the cluster of masked figures within those trees to prowl about the blue-grey walls, piercing gaze seeming to break through painted shingles to see what he wanted to. Those behind impatiently awaited a designated time of attack, he was under no such restrictions.

'You wanted a doll so badly,' the Spirit taunted his light. "Fine.'

The wariness gathering within his kitten's thoughts was satisfying.

Choosing his route of entry and climbing his way onto the outward sweep of the veranda's roofing, the Egyptian picked his way to a lighted window and crouched with near impossible balance to work the window open, unhindered by a latch long rusted through. A moment later, the spirit slid through the gape he'd manage to space between window and sill, emerging into the flowery chamber within.

In this small, bright nursery littered with blocks and assorted toys any youth would covet, a strawberry-blonde child looked up from the pink, stuffed bunny she'd been bouncing along an oddly-shaped mound of giant Lego, her bright blue eyes widening in surprise. Following this was a wide smile, those eyes watching the spirit as he stalked closer and knelt opposite her across the mound. Ryou, forced to watch this vision, felt cruel terror wash his senses free of the uncertainty that had been so all-consuming not long before.

"Hello," the Darkness greeted.

"Hi," she chirped, cheeks dimpling with the extent of her smile, the hand with the bunny still wriggling it around carelessly. Kind of like the hand, left without any directions, chose to carry on its last game.

"What are you doing?"

The child puffed up, her eyes shining with an innocent light, for she had been doing something very obvious, and very important. "Play-in," was the smug declaration, her you-should-know-that left unspoken. "Who're you?"

"Who-are-you", Bakura corrected as he tapped her slightly upturned nose, adding to his act a sinister wink as his hand was withdrawn. "The best friend you will ever have, child. Do you want to be my friend?"

Buried deep within the dark mind, Ryou felt that he could weep, had he but eyes to do so with. How could his Darkness look straight into those eyes with no shame? She was a baby, and he planned to steal the life away from her before she could grow past her appreciation of it. The child was flowing as if she'd been gifted with a treasure rarer than a handful of kind words from an unexpected stranger. "Uh-huh! Play with me?"

The Dark Spirit brushed aside the preferred bunny. "Why not you play a game with me."

The ominous ring tainting those words went unnoticed by the innocent child. Ryou ached for her as all she understood, with a gleeful squeal, was the offer of a game. "Oh," she cried. "Please!"

Extracting the deck from the pocket of the overlarge robe, the spirit split it into two equal halves and allowed her to chose which she wanted. Ryou, unable to cry out for her to run, could only watch his spirit's play unfold. With the gentle cadences of a loving brother, the ancient one's words led the child through this game of darkness, smoothing aside the fascinated queries she made concerning the thick mist gathering 'round and dampening the light of the yellow walls.

'Stop it, Yami-sama!' Ryou's plea met with no response. 'Stop it, stop it! Please, please, please…'

In the end, the mist reaching towards their bodies, the Spirit told the little girl that there was a final trick for her to see. He let his pet close his vision to the scene, revelling in his own feel of the power issuing from he and the ring, letting it drift nearer until it swallowed his curious victim it its body and mould her into a new form, trapping the glowing soul into a body of wood.

The brief reprieve Ryou was gifted to ended there, once more seeing the clean walls, undimmed by the mists of shadow, making up the cluttered but tidy walls of the nursery. He could feel the wooden body lying snug in his chill arms, the dead weight of the cards in the pocket of his robe.

'Your new present,' was all that his spirit bothered to say before snatching back control of their limbs and brining their body to stand, to walk, uncontested, from the opening door of the nursery into the long hall. Laughter and exclamations, stemming from a gathering down the stairs, reverberated through the walls of wood and mortar, growing clearer the nearer they came to the head of the stairs.

Ryou didn't want to go down where the other humans were. With the little control left to him, he smothered the wooden child against his chest, traitorous bare feet padding against the creaking steps. The cool of the wood beneath his feet, the warmth of what lay in his arms. Sounds of enjoyment, boisterous, were telling that this house was lived. Dry and loved, not damp and rotting at the core. Sick excitement was welling high in his other half, spilling the excess emotions through to the weak captive of his own body.

The laughter of the gathering ended with a clamour of unexpected sounds: tinkling of glass bursting in upon itself ; screams of startled pain as walls exploded; fearful cries when they saw their assailants; growled words weaving through the whistling from airborne lights; crinkling of shattering dishes and other objects being thrown in poor defence; and then all ceased, save for the screaming of pain and begging for mercy.

That who was in control gave no hesitation at the foot of the old stairway, moving towards the source of this chaos.

Lestrang's screams and suffering were as nothing compared to what was beyond the arching doorway. Like the kitten he was so aptly named, Ryou cried out in fright as control slammed him back into the whirling reality of what was happening around him. With sharper vision came the overmastering smell of fear and tangy blood, agonised cries ringing loudly as each tore through the crowded chamber amidst shrill whistling of flying lights.

Somehow, Ryou found himself in a back corner, sagging down the wall until he was hunched on the floor with eyes closed, his doll crushed into his chest. Retching tore through his chest, but nothing would come from his starved stomach save the swell of choking mucus gathering in his throat. Sick laughter, pouring through the screaming currents of the air, cut into his breath even as the cult dispersed with implosions that popped his ears, leaving behind a sickly green glow coating the darkened chamber through splintered windows.

Aurors rushed there as soon as they heard of the Dark Mark in the sky, entering to the horrific scene becoming all-too familiar.

Kingsley felt his heart constrict as his searching gaze fell on the shivering robed form huddling by the back wall just beyond a woman's corpse, a childish doll clutched to the small one's chest. Children should never have to witness these things. He watched as a woman approached the caution reserved for startled creatures in danger of harming themselves in a restraining trap. Why, he wondered, had they left this one alive when all others were dead?

All to likely, he knew with a sinking heart, this one left behind had been tortured into insanity.

Without thought, his feet took him to join her, eyes intent upon the pallid child. "Shh," Kinta was murmuring calmingly, reaching out the gloved hand not holding her want to brush some of the errant hair out of the shaken youth's face and giving them both a clearer view of what they'd found. Light from their wands shone on skin near translucent, male features gentler than any had a right to boast, with wide eyes of a brown that should have been a warm, heartening brown, not reflections of the terrified sorrow clinging beads of tears to the long lashes framing them. As her fingertips made contact with his skin, he cringed, already unsteady breath hitching. There was a wooden doll clutched by those arms, they now saw, with cheerfully blonde hair nestled in the tightly wrapped arms.

A new wave of hatred tore through him as he knelt next to Kinta and told the pale woman to go assist with the assessing of the corpses, that he could take things from there. Her youngest child's death had been only a week before, leaving much too raw of a wound for her to try to deal with another's broken child.

"You'll have to come with me, son," Kingsley Shacklebolt told the young one gently, standing and guiding the child to his feet. Somehow he managed to get him there, the youth standing unsteadily on feet hidden beneath the dragging hem of the too-long school robes. Hadn't Hogwarts already begun a day or two before? Slipping out of the heavy raven and plum cloak draped over his shoulders, Kingsley tucked it over the lad's own, ignoring the way the other flinched when the hands brushes against him. "The Ministry will make sure everything is okay."

Although, really, this was a piss-poor comfort considering the misconduct within the Ministry until such a short time ago. He counted only on the innocent trust of a child to accept this, and was not as disappointed as he could have been when no reaction was given to those words. He instead did the clasp of the cloak to hold it in place, not bothering with the sleeves hanging lax at the sides of the slight figure. If the small one could garner some comfort out of the wooden body almost pulled within his chest, he deserved it. It and so much more.

Ryou, locked from his spirit, had been left alone with the dead bodies. He paid little heed to where he was being led, knowing only that the damp grass was cold beneath his toes, and that the sickly green glow of the sky was reflected by the bald head of his guide. Birds were chirping around them, oblivious to the death witnessed so near to their roosts. Why the screams had not frightened them off Ryou didn't know. Something inside bid him to seek the source of this glow and he found, nestled in dank clouds of night black obscuring the stars beneath, the likeness of a snake coiling 'round a rotting skull.

"Look away, child. You're safe now." The gentle arm of the man supporting him tightened. He looked down from the sky, fixing his gaze once more upon the face of the child hugged close to his chest.

He was soon seated in a car, its door slamming shut behind him as the man backed away. Alone again with the child. Blood trickling from screaming mouths, anguished pleas for mercy blurred the space between he and the world around. Everything was lost and nothing could be made into sense.

Someone sat beside him. Words flowed above his notice as the car lurched into a start, blending together into a gentle backdrop for the song he could almost hear a woman's voice sing.

Bent over his desk, Albus Dumbledore stared into his tea distractedly with eyes deserted by what was thought by his staff to be their perpetual twinkle. School was at a start, classes had picked themselves up and unwound before the ready student eyes well-rested by Summer, yet, again, this one thing was missing. He'd resigned himself years ago to close his family from his life in view of the big picture, a war building and broiling about him that needed his attentions so much more. Now, again, both were here to flaunt in his face all he was losing in both.

Students and staff needed his attention on the unravelling days needing guidance, Minister and world needed his resolute support and steady hand to guide them through the coming days, but neither of these chosen choices could take from his mind his late niece and her lost child.

That Riddle kept his nephew was a knife to the old heart within his chest. Tom had turned Severus from a lost boy into a embittered man. Tom had rendered a newborn family with all the promise of youth into naught but a martyred orphan. Tom had destroyed countless other families, old and young, in such a same way, thinning the families of the Wizarding World in a way that left few but those who he could use and shape by his own will.

And he had, years ago, driven the last of Albus' close family from his side.

Behind him the roaring of the fire struck through the thick violet robes on his back, drawing hi mind away from those thoughts as he turned, readying himself for the bad news that would be awaiting such a late summons.

It took but a moment for the reason for this call to come to light.

Albus went for him with no questions, bringing Severus and asking Mr. Bakura to wait in his office with Minerva and Fawks. The first vision he received of his long-missed nephew settled heavily upon the old man's heart, painful but reassuring in the sense that the youth so dear to his heart still lived. He'd survived Tom.

Ryou looked like a child playing dress-up in their parents robes, a doll clutched against his chest in thin hands. But he was a child, and had undoubtedly seen things that should haunt him for the rest of his days. The translucent skin of his face quickened both men's hearts as they gazed from the doorway at the tiny figure curled small on the thick cushioned chair in the Minister's office. Signs of shock were still written on the soft features of the young one, angering Albus as only Tom could.

Enough had been done before this that Tom Riddle would have to pay for. This only strengthened the old one's resolve to see this to its end himself.

Into the room he strode, forcing himself to assume a grandfatherly expression of kindly concern. He wanted to sweep the child into his arms and tell him that everything was over now, that he'd be safe under his uncle's watchful protection, except the youth didn't know him yet. Words like this could only scare away one already put through so

Trust would have to be earned before all else.

With Severus backing him, it took little time for Albus to disentangle Ryou from the Ministry's clutches. Doing his best to soothe the frazzled child's nerves and feel out whether damage may have been done could be continued later, with St. Mungo's and Poppy for help. The doll in his nephew's arms gave him pause, but it could be worried over later. Enough time was wasted. He only hoped that the shaken boy could stand the short walk to the Wizarding Hospital with his and Severus' assistance.

It was a shabbily old-fashioned, red-bricked department store entitled 'Purge & Dows Ltd.' that the group stopped outside of. The entire place held an unpleasant air to Ryou as he took the sight in with its large, filthy windows housing chipped dummies with their matted wigs hanging crooked and modeling moth-eaten clothing that had to be from at least ten years before.

The vague notion that after all of this the man he'd been sent to stay with might be homeless itched at Ryou's mind as he took in the finishing touch, large sings declaring 'Closed for Refurbishment' nailed against all of the pealing doors. This unsettling thought swelled in Ryou's weary mind as the old man went on to speak to a dummy donning a green nylon pinafore dress whose eyelashes were falling off. "Wotcher, we need to have this young fellow looked at."

Nothing happened for a long moment. The Professor's arm shifted Ryou's weight impatiently, a low half-growl brushing Ryou's ear that could have come from either the man or his spirit. Then one of the dummy's expended hands curled its long finger in a beckoningly. Though the glass Ryou was led forward despite his locking muscles, his body tingling with the unsettling feeling of one stepping through a waterfall.

The large room this took them into held row by row of chairs where unusual men and women, voices tangling in annoyed arguments, animalistic snarls and chirps, where all around men and women in long green robes wandered about, taking casual glances and frequently speaking as they took leisurely wrote on their clipboards.

A woman in a portrait boasting a more elegant frame than those on other walls, like those who had been in the place Ryou had been taken to before, was looking down on them from above the plump blonde woman issuing floor rooms and snippy remarks to those ahead. Behind her and beneath this portrait was a puzzling board with such things as 'ARTEFACTS, ACCIDENTS and SPELLDAMAGE' written across it.

Those between them and the line-up were gazing back at them with curious expressions, some shuffling out of their way, others greeting Dumbledore excitedly and reaching out to take his hand. The Public was still uneasy around Albus for having turned upon him so fast and been proved fools. Sensing his mentor's pitying thoughts, Severus growled venomously, "Well they should be ashamed, too."

"Good evening, Marla," The old man greeted her as they made their way forward. "Young Ryou Bakura needs to be seen. Fourth floor, I believe. Is there any room available for us without an appointment?"

"Of course there is, Professor Dumbledore." She looked past him to Snape uneasily, then cast a critical glance over the uncomfortable Ryou. "Looks well enough."

"That remains to be seen. Good day, my dear."

A sneering Severus urged Ryou along.

The hall they took was lined with portraits of men and women in lime robes drifting about from frame to frame to speak together or trail behind living men and women walking or, depending on their abnormality, stumbling around the Ryou and his companions. Doors opened on this hallway, offering Ryou glimpses of men and women donning fungus, faces misshapen by horns or snouts, screaming uncontrollably as the lime-ones with them sought to calm them and close the curtains to offer privacy.

Soon a women with a long, blond ponytail down her back met them. Ryou ignored the talk she shared with the old man and Professor, staring through the crack of a door as a dark man and his smaller companion struggled to overpower a cursing… something… as it kicked and threw things at them.

He was again led away from the sight, this time into a sterile chamber smelling of lemon, disinfectant and staleness. There he was ordered to lie down on the empty white-and-silver bed as the woman pointedly closing the curtains on the overly curious woman with green-brown hair and bristly-looking spikes roosted on the bed adjacent to his. "Now, Professors, what is the problem?"

They'd told him that it was a doctor he'd be seeing, but this was not the kind of doctor he was used to. She was robed as all those around him lately, even himself. Armed, too. Ryou flinched as she flicked the wand, so like the ones wreaking pain upon the innocent family, to point at his forehead. The expected pain did not come. It was tapped against his brow lightly, causing only a glow against the lids of his eyes.

"It's a confidential matter," the Professor snapped, but his words were followed by the gentle tones of his elderly companion. Ryou liked this voice. It was soothing and strong, no matter that its owner was wizened with age.

"Captured by Voldemort, I fear," Albus Dumbledore told her. "We just collected him from the ministry and as yet we're not sure if anything with the child is amiss."

"The poor dear!" She immediately began fussing over Ryou as he continued to clench his eyes shut, unwilling to ease this defence until he was sure that the wand was gone. "No more worries, luv. Carla Sourwein will fix you right up, she will!"

Several more flashes cast their multihued glows against his eyelids after this. Then, gently, the woman moved closer until he could tell that the scent of lemons was also on her, sweetened to something more reminiscent to lemonade rather than a sour tang. Gently she tilted up his chin, tsking. "Now open those pretty eyes of yours, child. I need to see them."

Open them he did, but her hand had to tighten and hold him still as she checked beneath each, the tip of her wand lighting what she was seeing and leaving dark blotches staining his vision.

"There is no residue from dark magic in his system. Slightly undernourished, needs more liquids in his diet. Shock has set in, though the brunt of it seems to have passed. Any trauma must have been from what he's seen, not experienced. No wonder, my little dear, with what you've been put through." Releasing his chin, she ruffled his hair with her other hand before turning to face the two men, stirring an annoyed rise from Ryou's dark half.

"I suggest lots of rest and calming draughts for the next few days. None until he gets back to school, however, for it'll knock the child asleep." She trailed the tips of her glossy nails over the doll in Ryou's arms, a solemn smile on her lips. "I'm not near as accustomed to children as I should be, Professors. Poppy should be consulted for anything further. Now, don't worry, luv," this last to Ryou. "It's all over now. These men and Poppy will see to you, no doubt about that!"

Supported again by Professor Snape, and with the old one close to his side, Ryou was taken from the building out into the night street. He welcomed the cool air in exchange for the tightness of that within of the building they'd just vacated. The elderly man rested his hand on Ryou's bony shoulder as they stopped by the road, but his words were for the Professor.

"The Knight Bus, Severus."

A wand was brandish and, with what could only be described as a sonic boom, there appeared the bus, screeching to a stop as its bright lights blinded Ryou once more to the dark of night. They boarded it passed a freckly young man and the older driver, the Professor's hands all that kept him from falling. In seconds he found himself curled up on a rickety bed, a cocoa-stained blanket being wrapped around his shoulders by the old one he'd been sent to stay with.

The scenes outside of the windows passed too swiftly for him to take them in, though at first he tried. Letting them lose focus, Ryou turned his stifled thoughts inwards until the trip passed. His spirit was content as the trip passed, and Ryou could not say what this place he entered looked like, only that it held a warmth he'd never before attributed to stone, and gave him a comfort that he couldn't for the life of himself understand.

His legs were getting wobbly from the long day's strain coupled with the scant rest offered them by the strange bus. It was a relief when Severus swept him up to carry him the final stretch. His steps had been slowing down their trek. Unmindful of the bitter taste his spirit's woken anger left inside him, Ryou let his heavy head fall to the man's shoulder, eyes closing until a familiar gasp, marred by the closing of a door, roused his mind again.

By a large desk stood his father, the man's stricken eyes trained upon his face. This was too much. A keening whine swelled in his throat, irrational tears battling for freedom. Sanity had finally driven him from its faltering hold, spilling him into a place where dreams and the past mixed. The professor's grip slackened then he was clutched close, and a distant part of him acknowledged the stricken expression the man shared with the old one. His father's eyes were widened in fear, a man carved of stone.

Hysterics, this rational part of him recognized-it may have been his spirit, for the voice was bitter with annoyance. Knowing what caused it did not lessen the emotions bursting against him, nor slow his tears. A keen cut into his mind, coming from his own throat. He embraced both it and the freedom from thought it lent him, letting it block all else until he felt that he could pass out from the need of air within his lungs.

He breathed and cried again and again, until his lungs shuddered in threat of collapsing. He took pause in indecision, unsure if he should lift his voice again. A calmness had encased his emotions, one he recognized as his spirit manipulating them to ward away what he could not deal with. 'No more, weakling,' was the irate order before the link was severed.

Ryou obeyed. He was now in a soft chair, limbs encumbered by a tightly wrapped blanket when he tried to lift a hand and wipe clear his eyes. The old man did this for him with a soft cloth, pale face wrought with worry. Next to him crouched the woman who he recognized from the day Malik and Marik had stolen him away. Over them Ryou could see his father standing stiff and at a loss. He did not blame him. He didn't know how to deal with himself either. Where was Professor Snape?

"Easy, child," a warm voice melted against his mind. "We have you now. Let it all out and you'll be the better for it." He managed to free his hand and wiped at the new tracks of tears forming where the old one had smoothed them away. He wasn't to cry anymore so he wouldn't.

Ryou was let be for a long time after his breakdown, the adults speaking together with words he didn't care to follow. His sleepy daze was not broken until Mr. Dumbledore spoke to him.

"I will let you join the other students soon, child. First won't you try on this hat for me, Ryou? It would take but a moment."

"Albus, you can't serio-"

The old one silenced the lady professor with a glance and turned back to him. Ryou noticed a blurry lump of dark material in the man's hand and rubbed at his eyes to clear them, giftinhim with a small nod. Giving his head a gentle pat, the old one smiled and raised the ragged lump of material up onto his head, releasing it there to sag until it cut off most of his sight.

At first nothing happened. It was as if there was naught beneath the tattered brim but the wood of the shelf it laid upon year-round awaiting the sorting. Ryou felt a sliver of uncertainty whether he should be doing something or just be sitting there, waiting like the others. His mind drifted back to the manikin. It, too, had seemed normal enough.

His spirit's presence rolled inside his mind, raw power lapping from it against unseen boundaries. Curiosity?

Where naught had been but black, glimmerings of a mind were twining together to open to the reaching tendrils of magic given out from the aged material. And, for the first time, the hat felt fear. No the king of fear that it felt whenever its school was in dark times, no, but real fear. This was magic that poured into it. Ancient, deadly magic darker than its creators had ever experienced.

Dangerous.

The hat shuddered, helplessness raging on the pulse of the energy being fed into it. Cold, dusted by age without being diluted.

Then it found hope, hidden within the gentlest tickle of a presence beneath the ill-omened darkness. A light of innocence. Weak, subdued in the shadows of its shrouding companion but there nonetheless, tarnished but unstained.

And this hoped for its darkness as well.

There would be no private speeches this time as the hat at last decreed, "Slytherin."

A gentle smile was what the thoroughly shaken Ryou found on the old man's face as the hat was taken from his head. No one mentioned how the hat shuddered atop the child's head, or the rasping of its voice. Only one of them were oblivious to the oddity of this, and he only because he was a muggle.

It was a relief to have it removed, for the gentle touches against his mind by so foreign a creation had startled and scared him. Only his spirit had access to him like this.

"Shall I take him to Poppy now, Albus?" Minerva's solemn voice belied the confusion in her heart. A Dumbledore in Slytherin. Such a gentle child, so unlike those who were now in the year he'd be tentatively placed into, would he be safe? Could he possibly be looked after properly?

"No, Minerva. He should be allowed to room with his fellow students. I dare say he has been on his own enough. Any treatment bestowed on him can be done from there as easily as beneath Poppy's sentry."

"I'll take him to our dorms." Dumbledore gave Ryou one last, gentle pat, this to his hand, and stood to let Severus help his child away from them. Eugene stood back, watching, but neither did he make a move to stop them as they left.

Severus guided Ryou down many stairs, taking most of his weight and practically carrying his wearied body by the time they again reached a destination, this time deep into the bowels of the castle where the air felt cool and refreshing against too warm skin. A door of stone was parted with a word, opening into a large chamber of greens and silvers, blacks and stone. There he was left.

Ryou dropped onto one of the plush chairs and pulled his legs up in front of him, encircling them with his bony arms as he huddled against the chillness of his thoughts. Down here in the dungeons there were no windows to let the sky through. This made him feel as if he were trapped. It was like being locked within his soul room.

His eyes were still sensitive, itching from the air and all of his crying, but the swelled red had faded away. He hoped that tthe traces of his tears were gone. The students that shared the common room with him were shooting curious and cold glances at him, studying him. He'd been the new kid for most of his life and knew the things that they were thinking, no matter if the school were normal or magical. They had assessed him on his looks, deciding that he was a weakling, a wimp.

"Who is she?" "It's a guy?" "A doll…"

He wanted to escape their gazes and unpack his things, but Professor Snape had only brought him this far. He had no clue where his dorm was, or what bed would be his. How he'd find out by night he wasn't sure, but he'd have to. Surely someone would tell him by then.

And his father was there. With an uncle he'd never met, a relative on his mother's side.

"Ryou Bakura?" A crisp voice broke into his thoughts. Glancing up, he found a tall, maroon-eyed boy with brown-blonde hair frowning down at him, eyebrows raised expectantly.

Swallowing, Ryou nodded, shifting his grip on his knees. "Hai-Yes." He swallowed again, hunching closer to the legs he clutched.

"I'm Blaise Zabini," the youth introduced himself, frown still apparent despite his relaxing expression. "C'mon, I'm supposed to show you where the common room will be."

Ryou nodded again and stood, lifting his doll and clutching it close. The other boy led him down the staircase with the arched door case, passing several detours before turning to one on the left, and taking this separate stairway into a chamber rich in green curtains and elegant beds donning the symbol of their house: a serpent.

"This is the Sixth year dorms." Blaise Zabini told him, giving the doll in his arms a dismayed look. Ryou, not caring what the other felt, only held the small child closer. Those blue eyes still burned within his mind, innocent as her laugh and smile. She'd be scared, and he didn't want to make her feel alone.

He didn't pretend to know why his spirit did what he did.

Directing him to his bed and delivering one last appalled glance to him and his doll, the other boy left him there.

Gently rocking the small doll lying in his arms, Ryou walked over to the bed he had been assigned and laid her down on the silken comforter. "I'll be back with you soon, I promise," he comforted her.

Moving to the bags left by the foot of his bed, Ryou knelt and opened the one containing the others. He gently removed them one at a time, stroking back their hair, feeling it out to make sure it was devoid of knots. When one needed combing, he did it, taking care not to tear any out. When each one passed inspection, he set it out alongside his bed, creating an imperfect circle of dolls leaning against it. Their individual expressions of terror and anguish, shock and hopelessness would be a ward against any who would come too close.

When the last two were settled into their respective places, Ryou climbed onto his bed, careful not to displace the five resting at its foot, and cradled the little one once more, his white hair spilling onto her still face.

Softly, a lullaby he'd once upon a time listened to his mother sing he and Amane whispered from his lips, shushing the despair he knew that she felt. She had to, for he felt the same.

He was still seated in the bed much later, curtains finally drawn and wondering what would become of his life now, with a new world he'd never heard of before smothering everything he'd understood of what he'd thought of the world. Everyone dressed so strange here, robed as what he'd thought to be a cult had been. Was that what this was, even with the size and veins spreading from the blackened heart of its unpalatable centre. Death seemed to roll wherever these went, even in the place where he'd been taken by those freeing him from the cruel snake-man's prison.

Screams had been even there. Women and men had been misshapen and disfigured by these cruel forces worked by the followers of this arcane way.

Laughing voices woke Ryou from his melancholic musings. They sounded so happy outside of his curtained enclosure, just like Yugi and his friends were. Ryou wondered what laughing like that, without hidden welts muting your joy, would feel like. There was little that amused him anymore. Cynical thoughts could bring phantom smiles to his lips and the odd sight could free from him a laugh, but that was all smoke and mirrors, futile attempts his spirit made to show he still lived.

He had so many questions, but didn't feel it was his place to ask them of either teacher or fellow student. Those now laughing outside the curtains would probably think him stupid for not knowing any of the knowledge that they likely took for granted.

Worrying was foolish. He should be sleeping. Tomorrow was going to be trying, going out into this town his newfound uncle had told him about to buy things that sounded derived from a play. He felt better now, physically, but not enough to peer beyond this false shelter.

The door to the dorm opened. Swishing from long robes swept from the entrance to his own bed, a silence descending upon the room it passed through. Ryou looked up as his curtains were parted and found Professor Snape looking down at him, offering the chalice held loosely in his hand. "Drink this, Mr. Bakura," the man ordered simply. "It will help you to sleep."

Accepting the trust he felt for this man, Ryou took the chalice and drank deep. Then there was nothing but a hazy warmth filling his stomach and soft quilts being pulled over him.

End Ch.9

Another hunk edited!

Responses To Reviewers: I just want to thank everyone sooooo much! I've heard that people were having stories deleted because of reviewer responses on them, so I'm afraid I'm too cowardly to post them anymore. Let me just assure you hat I'm grateful. Especially your amazing job, Shi-koi! It's amazing how much detail you go into! You, Inspector, Eden's Echo and the quick Antago are a big part of this new chapter being posted! And Yami Arow, no fear! I'm going to continue. Thanks! As for you, Eden's Echo, I loved ALL of your reviews! Do it as many times as you want! Winks Oh dear. I'm going to have to get a site to post my replies on someday.

Anyway, thanks: Elfie-chan,tenshiamanda,kandra,Opal Shadow,Shi-koi,The Inspector, Slight Imperfections,Antago Edem (Sorry, had to add your name here too! Winks),Dark-necrophhia666,Yukina89 ,Nicki,Karasea,tamashiipurizuma,mystic bunny piper ,Yami Arow,Eden's Echo,Grey Candle,legendary bunny ,Amarin Rose,shrowded angel ),Geminidragon,NekoKatakura !!

Uh… Anyone still interested in this? Silly Grins

Please, Pleeeeease Let me Know Something Þ