WAAAAAAH I lied again!! Now you'll never trust me!!! I'm so awful!!!
*sob, sniffle, whimper*
Hermione: There, there, I'm sure they won't hate you just because you posted again sooner than you said.
Ron: Yeah, 'Mione's right. If they do, then they're all brainless gits. [Hi Mom, lookit me! HA!! In your faces Fred, George!! Told you I'd get in this fic by the third chapter! You owe me three galleons! *Ron crosses his arms and looks smug*]
*Fred's voice from off page* This doesn't count!! It's not even the story!!
*George's voice joins his* Yeah, we don't owe you till you get in the actual story this chapter and I don't see that happening!
Ron: It does so count!!
Molly Weasley: What!? How dare you boys wager on this nice girl's story! Arthur, this is all your fault, letting them gamble at the Quidditch Cup and now this!
Ron: Eeeep!
*Arthur Weasley's voice from off page* Now, boys. Your mother's right. It's not polite to make bets on the outcome of the story.
Ron: Does that mean I don't get my money? But what about Harry!? He already bet that he'd meet those two spikey haired blokes from Japan! There's no way he's losing that bet!
Hermione: Ron! Don't drag Harry into this!
Ron: But, Hermione! It's not fair!
Harry: Huh, what? Did someone say my name? Am I on yet?
*sniffle* No not yet. We still have to do the disclaimer.
Harry: Oh, okay, I better go get in my place then. C'mon Hedwig.
Hedwig: Hoooo-hoot.
Disclaimer:
I claim no ownership of Yugioh or Harry Potter. Don't own Naruto or Fushigi Yuugi either. If any of the characters should happen to mysteriously vanish from their current owner's possession...I was never there. ^_~
More of My Notes:
MERRY CHRISTMAS!! FELIZ NAVIDAD!!! HAPPY HANUKAH!! MERRY KWANZA!!
You get the picture. ^_^
Alrighty. Just to let you know, its been a while since I read the Harry Potter books so I may be a bit out of character for them all. Plus I may make some mistakes on what's happened during the 5th book because, to be honest, I was a bit disappointed in it. But it did provide ample opportunities for my imagination to get carried away and help to moosh Yugioh and the Harry-verse together. So, I'm going with it for the most part. I may alter Bill Weasley's romantic status a bit because I tend to think Isis and an elder Weasley brother would make a cute couple. And, well, Charlie is off in Romania with the dragons, so I can't conceive how he and Isis would know each other. Or maybe it'll just be a friendship between Isis and Bill. Not sure yet, we'll see what Isis and Bill have to say about it. Assuming they survive this chapter. ^_^
Anyway, since it's been a while since I last read Harry Potter, so I may make a few mistakes on what's happened in the past. If I have, please let me know in a non-pyrotechnic manner so I can correct it or explain my reasoning behind my alteration. Same goes for spellings of places and or names.
Also, time differences between Japan and England. I checked on a globe and saw that Japan is about halfway around the world from England, but not quite. Now since I do not know the exact difference between England and Japan, I'm just going to be arbitrary. From now on, in my story world, England is 12 hours earlier than Japan. If you don't like it, too bad. =P You're not the author of this fic. =D
Oh, yeah, Honda was being such a jerk last chapter because he was frustrated. His good friend, who might not have woken up, was laid up in the hospital for no apparent reason; someone or something put him there; and Honda couldn't do anything to prevent it, stop it, or make it better. He was frustrated, angry, and took the first outlet for his anger he could find. Which happened to be Yami Bakura who he already didn't trust much at all because of all the past times Yami Bakura tried to hurt Honda and Yugi and the others.
Ah, why make chapters shorter? Simple! So I can give you more of them, faster! Now isn't that a good reason. ^_^
Oh yeah, Harry's birthday is in July, Dudley's is sometime before summer break. Harry is turning 16 this year.
Anyway, here's chapter 3. Enjoy!
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Harry Potter and The Advent of Darkness
Chapter 3: What The Boy Saw
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Number 4 Private Drive, England, Ex-spare Bedroom, July 9th, 7:12 am.
The whole neighborhood, Number 4 included, was just beginning to wake up and greet the day. Well, everyone who considered themselves a welcome part of the neighborhood at least.
Early morning sunlight streamed in through the un-shuttered window and spilled onto the bed of the reclaimed spare bedroom and its single occupant beneath the rumpled covers. A tortured groan arose from the hapless victim of the sunny morning, followed by a grunt as he attempted to maneuver to a sunless position.
Any further attempts at pretending dawn had not come were shattered by a shrill voice accompanied by pounding on the closed door.
"Get up! Stop sleeping, you lazy boy! Hurry and get dressed." Petunia Dursley's high-pitched voice drilled through the boy's refuge behind the door and under the covers, making him wince as his forehead gave yet another sympathetic throb.
Harry Potter groaned as he sat up from beneath the covers. His green eyes were bleary and reddened from lack of sleep. His normally unruly black hair was even more rebellious than usual, the loser of last night's fight with the pillow.
The Boy-Who-Lived was certain that he would be a prize contender for the Undead of the Century Pageant if there happened to be such a thing. He had not been able to sleep last night.
It was not his scar searing him with pain that kept him up. No, nothing so commonplace for Harry. Instead, he had found himself tossing and turning all night. Every time he would approach the threshold of slumber, he would once again be bombarded with foreign sensations. Feelings not his own.
The half-taught lessons in Occlumency he had suffered through with Professor Snape had helped somewhat. No images had accompanied these sensations, and no foreign presence had intruded upon his mind. But that did not stop the emotions from leaking across to him. And it was these very emotions that had caused him to suffer a sleepless night. Or rather, the effect they had on him. Because these were not the ordinary emotions he felt from the strange link he shared with his nemesis through his scar. No, these emotions were the kind that made his stomach churn and his spirit writhe in distress so deep it was instinctual.
Voldemort was happy.
In fact, very, very happy. So happy, he was broadcasting his excitement and anticipation like a radio beacon. It was enough to make Harry want to hurl. As far as Harry was concerned, there were only three reasons Voldemort could possibly be this happy.
1. Voldemort had finally realized his desires for world domination stem from a psychological desire to be loved, and had gotten himself a girlfriend.
2. Voldemort had finally given up on becoming a dark wizard and had found his true calling as a born-again-hippie flower shop owner. Or ...
3. Voldemort had a plan. And it was working perfectly. And it was sure to be a doozy for the Order of the Phoenix.
Harry was pretty sure it was number three. And that meant trouble for the wizarding world and the Order of the Phoenix. Trouble that Harry could do nothing to stop.
Harry Potter had once again been holed up at the Dursley's since his school, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, had let out for the summer. Granted, his current state among the Dursley's was somewhat improved upon last summer, due mostly to the sendoff the members of the Order had given him at the train station. Essentially, the Dursley's pretended he didn't exist unless necessary. Even his cousin, Dudley Dursley, had stopped bullying him ever since the incident with the members of the Order. Now he took measures to avoid running into Harry, with or without his gang.
Of course, this did not exclude Harry from doing the chores, and any other menial tasks the Dursleys could come up with.
"Get your lazy self out of bed, you ungrateful child! Duddikins will be up soon and you had better not undercook the eggs in your haste, trying to make up for your slugabed ways!" Aunt Petunia's voice shrilled through his door, making the veins in Harry's temples attempt to claw their way into his skull to escape.
Wincing in pain, Harry rolled out of bed and attempted to find his glasses on the bedside table. Pulling them on, he glanced across the small room to the large empty owl cage. Hedwig wasn't back with the morning post yet.* Sighing, Harry got dressed and headed for the bathroom. As he passed Dudley's room he could hear his cousin's elephantine snores, and guessed that if he put his hand to the door he would feel it vibrate in its frame. Slugabed indeed.
A short time later, Harry entered the kitchen, hiding a yawn behind his hand. Aunt Petunia was cooking toast. Beside the waiting frying pan stood the half-gallon of I-Can't-Believe-It's-Not-Eggs-(Diet) liquid scrambled eggs. Aunt Petunia had decided it would be best to alter the dieting routine in order to keep up a façade that Harry was not being malnourished. Harry's previous state of near starvation would not have gone over well with Mad Eye Moody, Tonks, Remus, and Mr. Weasley should it have been discovered. Supposedly, the egg replacements tasted just like real eggs but with a quarter of the nutritional value. Harry wouldn't know, it smelled funny before being cooked, and looked rubbery afterward, regardless of how they were prepared. The first time Harry had seen them he had resolved not to touch them with a ten-foot pole, let alone his fork. Dudley seemed to share his sentiments, but he ate them anyway at his mother's, and doctor's, insistence.
Shortly before Harry had finished cooking the hazardous material, Uncle Vernon and Dudley entered the kitchen and proceeded to fill up the remainder of the spare space around the table. Dudley by far, outstripped his father in that department.
As Harry squeezed himself into the small portion of his side of the table not yet conquered by Dudley's girth, Aunt Petunia turned her beaming gaze upon her son as he stuffed his face with the grapefruit half that accompanied the non-egg mass on his plate.
"Duddikins, I know you're upset at your father and I for not buying that latest toy for that trading game of yours on your birthday, so to make up for it, we've planned a special outing just for you today."
Dudley eyed his mother warily, certain she was trying to distract him to prevent him from getting his prized gadget.
"Your mother's right Dudley, my boy. You're sixteen now. Time you picked out an automobile for yourself. Only the finest for my son, you know. We're taking you out to a first class automobile dealership in London. I'm good friends with the assistant manager of their London branch. Robert Harrington will give us a personal tour of the floor models, and we'll help you pick out the best auto on the lot." Uncle Vernon proudly beamed at his son from across the table, who was looking extremely pleased with himself at this news.
Harry had to hold his breath and bite his tongue to keep from collapsing in laughter. Dudley, in a car. It would have to be able to double as a boat to allow Dudley's massive girth to fit inside, let alone into the driver's seat. As it was, he took up two, sometimes nearly three seats in Uncle Vernon's latest company car.
Uncle Vernon glared at Harry as the boy turned slightly red in the face as his shoulders shook. "Here now, what's this! Are you choking boy! Trying to get attention I suppose. Stop that at once, it certainly won't work on us. Sit up straight and finish your breakfast. I won't have it said we starve you just because you refuse to eat a proper meal!" Uncle Vernon barked at Harry.
"He's not coming is he? I won't have it! I won't! He'll just ruin my special day!" Dudley began, fake tears threatening, as he turned red in the face and pouted at his mother.
"Of course not, Duddikins!" Aunt Petunia cried, wrapping her bony arms around Dudley's nearly indistinguishable neck. "He won't spoil things at all. I promise. Your father has decided to leave him here while we're gone."
"What! But he'll break my things! He's always breaking things; we should leave him with Mrs. Figg." Dudley smirked at Harry, knowing how batty Mrs. Figg was, but not knowing she was a witch that Harry would not have minded visiting. Harry caught himself starting to smirk back. He stifled it quickly, not wanting the Dursleys to know he didn't mind visiting Mrs. Figg anymore now that she didn't have to pretend to be a crazy old lady who made his visits unpleasant so that the Dursleys wouldn't stop having him stay with her.
"He had better not." Uncle Vernon grumped, glaring at Harry. "You had better not touch anything while we're gone, boy. Stay out of Dudley's and our bedrooms. And don't go outside either." He growled at the bespectacled youth.
"I'm sure he'll destroy my cards, father! He's always been jealous of my having them! It'll be just the opportunity he's been looking for!"
"Now, now, Duddy. We'll stop on the way home and buy you many more of those trading cards you like so much. In fact, we'll buy you some of the latest, rarest ones from that store you like so well." Aunt Petunia crooned to her darling little boy.
"Well, I suppose its all right then." Dudley frowned crossing his pudgy arms over his massive torso as far as they would go. "But, without that new dueling system from Kaiba Corporations, I don't know how I'll be able to properly face Piers. He's already got one. I should have one too!" Dudley scowled at his parents.
"Now Duddies, we discussed this already. Those duel pan things are so very scarce right now. You know we've been looking everywhere for them since before your birthday. Everywhere is sold out before we can get a chance to put one on layaway. As soon as we get word that there is one available, we'll be sure to buy it for you my dearest." Aunt Petunia soothed, in her thin, reedy voice.
Harry tuned them out as he quickly ate his slices of toast, liberally slathered with marmalade. He didn't really care much what they bought Dudley, so long as it meant they'd be out of the house. He really needed to go back to bed. Harry hadn't been getting a good night's sleep for weeks now. Not since ... well, not since he came back to Private Drive. His dreams usually woke him up, if fear of having those dreams didn't keep him from falling asleep in the first place. He'd be glad of a day to himself, without the Dursleys around to keep him from relaxing and trying for some shut-eye.
It wasn't long before the Dursleys had finished their breakfasts and were soon hurrying to leave for their day trip. Harry saw them to the door, and was given one last tongue lashing from Uncle Vernon on what not to touch in the house.
As soon as they were gone, Harry retreated back to the welcome solitude of his room and shut the door firmly behind him. As he slumped against the door, blinking his eyes in an effort to remove the last vestiges of exhaustion from his sight, Harry heard a soft, familiar hoot from behind him within his room. Turning around, Harry smiled warmly as he saw a friendly face, er beak.
Hedwig perched contentedly on the top of her cage, a folded newspaper in her beak. Harry crossed over to her and stroked the soft white feathers of her head after accepting the paper. She nibbled affectionately at his fingertips before spreading her wings for balance and hopping down to perch on the headboard of his bed. Harry offered her an owl treat before settling down on top of his blanket. He briefly considered writing his routine three-day letter to the Order, more specifically to Remus Lupin, before unfolding the Wizarding Times newspaper and scanning the pages.
With any luck, there would be nothing more exciting than an article on Percy's cauldron bottoms investigation.
Harry sighed. Luck was not with him today. It seemed the Death Eaters had struck again. This time it seemed Voldemort was having aspirations of internationalism. Two days ago, five muggle security guards and one museum curator had been murdered with the killing curse in the underground storage facility housing the majority of the artifacts for the Egyptian Archaeological Artifacts Preservation Department of the Natural Museum of Cairo in Egypt. There was a lot of collateral damage, but from initial reports nothing had been stolen. No suspects had been seen or heard, let alone caught. It had to have been Death Eaters though, who else would use the killing curse six times just to break into a museum storage room and, apparently, break stuff.
Harry frowned contemplatively. What was Voldemort doing, sending Death Eaters to Egypt? What sort of plan was he working on? What could he want from an Egyptian museum warehouse? He knew the Order would have already gotten this information, so there was no need to include it in the letter he planned to write later today, but still, it was unsettling. Especially so on top of the happy bubbly feeling he kept feeling from Voldemort's mind whenever his thoughts wandered.
Harry wished fervently for a large mallet with which to knock himself out so that he could get some untroubled rest. This was just making his head hurt as he tried to ponder the inner workings of a madman's mind.
Deciding he needed rest more than knowing what other bad news the paper held for him, Harry shut the blinds and flopped back onto his bed. Kicking off his shoes and pants, he crawled under the covers and prayed sleep would find him.
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England, July 9th, 10:05 am.
It was cold. Cold and wet. Harry shivered as a stiff breeze lifted the sheets of rain and battered them against him. He opened his eyes to an unfamiliar, yet hauntingly reminiscent scene.
There was no sun. Dark, almost black, storm clouds covered the sky for as far as he could see. There was no light. Not even the gleam from a distant window pierced the gloom. Somehow, Harry knew it was not night. Somehow, a storm had come up, so fierce that it darkened everything for miles around, creating an unnatural night.
He could barely see into the gloom of this place. Rain poured down in sheets, thick and harsh, blurring his sight of everything around him. The stinging droplets struck his skin. Harry had to squint to make out anything around him. Oddly enough, through the rain and gloom, what he could see he could see rather well. However, he wasn't wearing his glasses. For a panicked moment he thought they had fallen off and broken. Then Harry remembered; he had taken them off right before falling asleep in his bed. He was most definitely not in his bed anymore.
Harry turned around in a complete circle, peering searchingly into the gloom. He could barely make anything out through the driving rain. Glancing down to his feet, he could see he stood several inches deep in mud and muck. Lifting his foot from the ground, he saw he left no footprints behind. So, he wasn't really here, was he? But he could feel every raindrop as it struck his skin, and he could feel the squelch of the mud between his toes.
Turning back to the direction he had faced in the beginning, Harry again peered into the gloom. Faintly, he could hear something in the distance. Ever so faintly, the sound of many voices, raised in an echoing cadence, rose and fell. He could not make out any of the words through the howl of the wind or the steady rush of rain striking the ground and his body.
Harry cocked his head from one side to the other, trying to determine the direction of the sound. He had to be here for a reason, and he intended to find out what it was. This time, however; Harry had no intention of acting before letting the Order know about what he learned.
Finally deciding the faint voices came from almost directly ahead of him, Harry started forward through the rain and shadows. He hadn't taken more than a few paces before a dim gray shape rose up out of the indistinct haze of this place and revealed itself to him. Harry's feet came to an abrupt halt before this grim monolith. Turning once more to view his surroundings, the hazy shapes of the stone's companions began to take form and reveal themselves to Harry's searching eyes.
Dozens of weatherworn tombstones dotted this nightmare landscape. Crowding close, they seemed to hem Harry in from all sides. How had he missed them before, they were all around him? Harry shuddered from more than the chill of the rain soaking his clothes. The last time he was in a cemetery came back to his mind in a rush of jumbled emotions as fear choked his throat for a moment.
Faintly, the voices grew louder, more powerful, despite the distance. Harry's scar throbbed. Intense elation flooded through his body, making his soul twist in revulsion at the thought of that fiend finding pleasure in anything. Harry lifted his head, water dripping from his black bangs. He had to know what was going on.
He forced himself to go on, slogging through the muddy sludge that got deeper by the moment as the rain continued to pour down. The dark forms of the grave markers of those long dead rose out of the gloom and faded away once more as he continued towards the voices.
As Harry got closer, the voices became more distinct. Dimly Harry could make out a faint flickering glow coming from up ahead. As he slogged past the last of the tombstones separating the glow from his position, an imposing gray stone structure loomed out of the darkness.
Harry blinked the water from his eyes as he shuddered; chill seeping into his bones. The grim mausoleum was old and weathered; ivy and dark moss clung to its sides. Slickened with rain, the ivy shivered and rattled ominously with every moan of the wind. The iron gate at the door to the crypt hung open, bent and twisted off its hinges. The heavy metal door that led to the interior of the stone building was ajar. From within, the sound of chanting was now clear to Harry's ears, accompanied by a dim flickering glow.
Seeing no one outside the crypt, Harry approached the door and peered cautiously onto the scene within. Even from this close, the words being chanted were unknown to Harry. At first he thought it was simply that he could not hear them clearly. But it was soon apparent to him that the chant was indecipherable to him because it was in a strange foreign language.
Within the mausoleum, there was a short entryway that opened out into a larger square space that fronted the back wall where rows of coffins rested in niches in the walls, concealed behind small metal doors that were darkened with age and disuse. However, this was not what caught Harry Potter's undivided attention.
Upon the scuffed marble floor of the crypt a large design was painted in red ink of some kind. The design was unfamiliar to Harry; it did not fit the standard pentagram image so often associated with magical workings. There were four outer lines, forming three ring bands. The space between each pair of lines was filled with strange runes and symbols that wrapped around the span of the circular design like numbers on a clock. Within the innermost ring was a large open space. Inside this inner area was a large pattern made up of lines intersecting and connecting to form a six pointed star-like pattern.** It was formed from a series of four overlapping triangles, two points of each triangle touched the inner edge of the innermost ring. Where each point touched the ring, a single candle stood. The candles were set in intervals of black and blood red and each candle had the same sort of runes carved into the wax as were present on the giant sigil. Set into the center of the symbol, where the four triangles met in a single point, was a green stone. About the size of a snitch, minus the wings and flat on the bottom, the crystalline rock seemed to glow with a dim inner fire independent of the flickering candlelight. Around the outer edge of the circle, standing across from the apex of each point of the star- pattern, six Death Eaters stood at attention, their skull white masks hiding their faces from view as their voices rose and fell in the primordial cadence of a heartbeat.
Almost against his will, Harry found himself drifting slowly but steadily closer, drawn to the flickering gleam within the polished green crystal. As he drew closer, mesmerized by the pulsing thrum of the chant, he began to make out a pungent, sickly-sweet scent. The scent of blood.
Harry jerked back, breaking the strange lure the stone held on his mind. Blinking in momentary confusion, he focused on the scent of blood and with a sickening lurch of his stomach realized that it was not ink the runes were drawn with. Shaking his head to clear it of the unfocused fuzzy feeling that had filled it seconds before, he drew back slightly, wary of discovery by the dark wizards.
As Harry glanced around himself, he realized that no one had given any sign of awareness of his presence. Then, from across the room, he heard a familiar hated voice join with the chant. Turning to face the far side of the symbol from the doorway, he saw what he had previously overlooked. Voldemort, stepping forth from the darkness, his wicked red eyes gleaming with suppressed glee as his hissing voice joined with those of his faithful, and rose above them.
The chanting changed subtly as an oppressive feeling of constriction descended upon Harry. The cadence grew faster, more compelling. Harry found himself sweating with strain as he forced himself not to focus on the strange stone in the center of the bloody circle. Gasping to control his breathing, he broke away from the sight and focused on the dancing shadows to his right. There, cowering in terror at the powers being worked in this place, Wormtail crouched upon the marble floor, whimpering in fear.
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see the edges of the hideous circle begin to glow with an unearthly green light. The sickly green pallor filled the chamber, drowning out the flickering yellow of the candles as even their pale flames took on the sickening hue. A freezing wind picked up, whirling around the circle within the confines of the stone walls. The chanting became faster, more commanding now as the glow increased in power.
Unable to resist the pull of the stone, Harry turned back to face the circle. The entire symbol was a vivid, poisonously glowing, green hue. The stone in the center was no longer dimly gleaming. It glowed with green fire, as bright as a beacon, calling for him to be drawn in. The wind increased in ferocity. Biting into his exposed skin and ripping at his still damp clothes it whipped around the circle of Death Eaters. Tearing at their cloaks and robes even as they struggled to continue the chant. The oppressive power pulled at Harry, it seemed to be sucking him towards the stone in the center of the pentagram. Pulling him in against his will.
Harry fought against the pull even as it intensified. The chant pulsed in his ears, rising and falling with the beat of his heart as he gasped for breath. Oppressive power closed in around him, constricting and pushing him inexorably towards the glowing stone.
Harry had nearly been pulled to the very edge of the circle, a few more inches and he would cross the first vivid green line. Abruptly the green stone pulsed brighter than ever before, it filled the center of the symbol with green light so bright Harry could not look directly at it. Throwing up his arm to shield his eyes, Harry attempted to make out the cause of the change even as the throbbing chant died away to anticipatory silence. Dimly within the center of the light he could make out a form of some kind. A shadow against the blinding green light. Before he could make out any general shape or characteristics, the green light was overwhelmed by a burst of golden light so strong it was a physical force.
Harry was thrown backwards, away from the circle. Even as he fetched up against the wall of the mausoleum, the golden light faded and was swallowed by the green light. As Harry sat up and looked around he saw that all the Death Eaters, Voldemort included, had been thrown back from the circle as well. The green stone flashed with light, drawing Harry's attention back to it. He sucked in his breath in apprehension as the green crystal seemed to absorb all the green light within itself, getting brighter and brighter until it was unbearable to look at. Abruptly, the stone flared with power, the green energy blasting outward in an expanding radius that washed over Harry before he could even cry out in surprise. The power roared over and around him with a thunderous sound as he was picked up and tossed aside. Harry was certain the end of the world had come as everything around him shook and roared as the power blasted it apart, sending massive chunks of stone and crumbling, shattering coffins flying about in every direction. Harry saw the ground rushing up towards him as lightning and thunder cracked across the sky and the rain poured down as the wind howled.
Harry shot straight up in his bed, a scream tearing loose from his lips. It took a moment for his brain to register his surroundings and even longer for his heart to stop plunging madly about inside his chest. Gasping air into his lungs, Harry clutched his sheets to his stomach with white knuckled hands.
Bed. He was still in bed. He had not really been in that cemetery, or in that crypt. Even so, his shirt was soaked through with cold and clammy sweat.
'Had it been just a horrible dream? No, it was far too vivid for that.' That had been another of those visions he would get, spawned from Voldemort. The question was, was it for real or was it Voldemort trying to play with his brain. Harry didn't know the answer to that, but he was not about to go charging off to search every cemetery for blasted crypts. No, but he could do something better than that.
"The Order. Remus." Harry whispered determinedly to himself. "They have to know."
Even as Harry wrote down every detail he could remember from his dream and sent his letter off with Hedwig to Remus Lupin, he could feel him. Voldemort. A very, very pleased Voldemort.
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* Harry subscribed to the Wizarding Times newspaper to get daily info on Voldemort and his actions in my fic. He has a pre-paid subscription so Hedwig picks it up for him from the closest local owl post office every morning. [I don't remember the name of the wizarding paper Hermione usually gets in the books so I made up my own.]
** For those of you who have seen it. It looks just like the third stage Seal of Orihalcos/Curse of Orihalcos [part of Doom arc], only drawn in red.
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Well, there you go. Harry at last makes his appearance. I know, I know, the whole dream-vision thing has been way over done with Harry as an introduction for him. But I think I pulled it off rather nicely. What do you think?
Ron: I think you purposely didn't write me into this chapter just so I would lose the wager!
Who me? Nah! *discreetly accepts two galleons from Fred* I'm perfectly innocent. 0=)
Ron: *grumbles* I had better show up soon!
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Oh look! It's time for Reviewer Responses! YAY!!!
beyblader-kai's-girlfriend: There's going to be plenty of page time for everyone's favorite albino boys. Don't you worry.
Yugi actually met Yami before that in the manga, the meeting during the shadow game with Bakura in Duelist Kingdom was a way to have them meet for everyone who didn't follow the manga and/or who had never seen the first 27 episode series of Yugioh which was made by an entirely different animation company and did not revolve around duel monsters, but rather games in general. Yami was a lot darker in that series, most of the opponents/enemies he met suffered Penalty Games because they cheated or tried to hurt Yugi/Yami and/or their friends. They usually ended up dead or insane. The others didn't forget about the big Yugi-little Yugi dream, they just thought it was a dream. When they realized Yami was real and not a figment of a mass hallucination, I'm sure they remembered that weird nightmare and realized it had actually happened. Oh don't worry, that flashback is in there somewhere, just have to figure out the right place to put it. Yup, Noa is a Kaiba.
SPOILER FOR NOA ANIME STORY ARC!!!
He was Gozaburo's actual son years and years ago, but he died (I think a car hit him). Gozaburo Kaiba downloaded his mind, before Noa's body died, into a super AI computer Kaiba Corp. had developed for the military, which is why Noa never ages and lives inside the virtual reality world he later traps Yugi, Seto, and company in. Gozaburo adopted Seto partly because of an uncanny resemblance he had with his long dead son, Noa. I think he wanted to eventually upload Noa's personality and intelligence from the AI into Seto's body. But he gave up on that when Noa started showing signs of forgetting his humanity and thinking more statistically and emotionlessly like a computer does. After that he focused on making Seto as cold and ruthless of a businessman as possible so he could succeed him to the throne of Kaiba Corp. CEO. He seems to have done too good of a job because Seto took over the company when he was still a little kid and kicked Gozaburo out after acquiring 51% of the shares. Gozaburo then, either committed suicide or was pushed out a window by Seto [I think after threatening Mokuba]. Depends on the manga or anime.
SPOILER OVER!! ALL CLEAR!!
Curtis Zidane Ziraa: You'll see about Yami soon. =) You're the only one so far to have a problem with Jou as his first name. I don't think I'm going to change it though. It might be kinda confusing to some people to say his last name is Jounouchi, and then have everyone call him that like it was his first name, even if that's how it works in Japan.
Soon enough for you? ^_^
Dark-necrophhia666: Wow, so many conflicting responses about Jou's name. Well, I think I'm going to keep Katsuya as his last name anyhow. I fear your demons. *shivers* I'm writing as fast as I can, don't set them on me! If you do, my other reviewers might hunt you down. I don't think they'd appreciate a mangled corpse instead of an author.
Hyozanryu: I'm so glad you like it. Don't worry, I'm still writing this monster. =D
It'sHardToBelieve: Don't worry, I've got plenty more in store for all you wonderful reviewers.
Nope Bakura isn't that evil; you'll see why he's nicer in this fic later on; assuming I ever get around to figuring out where I'll stick my flashback to my made-up end of the AE arc.
JadedKatrina: I hope you get chills from reading this chapter too! I really worked on getting the dream-vision atmosphere down perfectly creepy. We'll see about the puzzle and Yami, you never know, I could make him go poof! *evil snicker* Aww, darn it, you guessed the villain of my story. How ever did you do that? *ponders innocently*
JenniChan: I'm writing I'm writing but I'm afraid my fingers are going to fall off if I keep up this pace! o_*
Eep, sorry, that darn eye piece ended up in the wrong place again, I had to drop by Konoha Hidden Village couple of days ago and rescue it from Jiraiya who was trying to use it to attract women to him. *shakes head at perverted old hermit ninja* Sorry you can't keep it JenniChan, gotta have it back for my story. Don't worry, you'll see what happened to it soon enough. =P Honda acts like such a jerk because he's upset and stressed and really needed an outlet for it before he put a hole in the wall, or punched a doctor, whichever came first. The first outlet he found was Yami Bakura, whom he's never really trusted, since when they first met he sent Honda to the Graveyard, and later he was obsessed with trying to steal the puzzle from Yugi.
Lady Silver Dragon I: Yay! You think my fic is cool! That's so ... COOL! I fixed the won't problem! Hehe, I went into MS word autocorrect and added it. =P Hope its getting more interesting by the chapter. Yes, inspiration is a good thing, sometimes. I have too much of it, can't stop writing. Maybe if you read my fic, some of it'll rub off on you and stop bugging me all hours of the day. Yup, squiggly things showed up all right. ^_^
Lizeth: Yay! Yup it is me. You like my summary? I was afraid it sucked. *looks sheepish* Oh you skimmed the conversations? I tend to put a lot of characterization in the conversations, humor too sometimes. Well I hope you like this enough to go back and read them through. ^_^ Eh, I don't think my chapters are staying balanced. Lots of anger and gloom in the last one; and now scary creepiness filling this one. Anyway, right now things are kinda gloom and doomy what with the puzzle breaking and the missing piece and the happy evil guy. [Happy evil guys are never a good thing.] Eh, you'll see I tend to interchange words a lot; landlord, host, etc. Half the time I call Seto Kaiba 'Seto' and the other half its 'Kaiba', dunno why, just sounds better in my head at certain points. Well of course Yugi's better at some things than Yami is, they complete each other so where one is lacking the other shines. ^_^ I really don't think Yami could pull off a truly effective puppy dog eyes. Oh don't you worry what I did to Yami, you'll see soon enough. ^_~ Yeah I noticed that too, Miaka in Fushigi Yuugi loves cake among other things. And Mokuba's favorite food is listed as chocolate in his profile. Ack, inspiration bug decided to glomp me during Christmas and not let go. I haven't had a chance to write up a review for HoM 8, but I can tell you I loved it! I was bouncing in my seat as I read it. =D AHHH! I'm on your favorites list! I'm so excited!!
Mists(): I'm glad you like it. =) Hope these updates aren't too fast for you. =)
Mwuahahahahaha!! Oh the joys of being evil! Why didn't you tell me before how good it felt Bakura! [Thief King: I can't believe you dragged me into this. -_-;;] Don't worry, you'll see where the eye piece went soon enough. I'll make you sweat and stew for a little bit first though. ^_~ Yes! Excited is good, very good. I reward your excitement with this chapter. =D
Princess Krystal01: Thanks! I'm glad you like it. ^_^
ruth 4 kai: Look two more updates! Yay! Don't worry, more to come.
Sachi-chan: Wow, my first review ever and it's literally glowing with praise. See, I gotta wear sunglasses just to read it! =P Don't worry, there's more coming to this fic. ^_^
Yup, that was quick. Its called, being insane. ^_^ Actually I think there are four Bakuras unless you count the flashback to chibi-Bakura. I was pretty worried that he was being too nice to Ryou in my fic, but I guess my worries were unfounded. =)
Saiyajin no Oujo: Glad you like it. Don't worry, I fixed that. =)
Shirubie: Wow, you're really putting me up there with the greats aren't you. Those are the two best hp/ygo crossovers I've seen on ff.net or anywhere for that matter.
simpleinsanity: Sorry about that, it's just that Kaiba is a really smart guy, genius actually. So he tends to use big words. Plus it makes him feel superior to Jou when Jou has trouble pronouncing them. ^_~
Subaru-S: Yay! Another person who likes my fic! I'm so happy. Oh, you'll see what happened to Yami, don't worry. Yeah, I tend to picture stuff in my head like it's a movie or an anime episode, and then I write what I see and hear the characters saying and doing. Um...that's not freaky is it? o_0
The Mad Tortoise: Ooh! You put me on your favorites list! I'm so happy! Don't worry, there's lots more coming as soon as I find time to write it all down.
You really think so? I do hope to be a professional author. I am a creative writing English major after all. Why would I cut down on chapter length? So I can bring you wonderful people more of them and faster too! Glad you hated my cliffie, its so rewarding to know one's evil deeds are under-appreciated. *evil grin*
Tuulikki: Maybe a little too detailed? Should I cut down on the detail a bit? If so where? Or was that just your way of saying my chapters are insanely long? Aww, thanks! Merry Christmas to you too! Hope you like my gift of another early chapter. =D
Youkai Youko: Yay! You put me on your favorites list! I'm glad you like it. =)
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Once again, the purple button is calling to you. Its saying "Review, Review because you know you want to. Its fun!"
Until next time! Bye bye. ^_^
*sob, sniffle, whimper*
Hermione: There, there, I'm sure they won't hate you just because you posted again sooner than you said.
Ron: Yeah, 'Mione's right. If they do, then they're all brainless gits. [Hi Mom, lookit me! HA!! In your faces Fred, George!! Told you I'd get in this fic by the third chapter! You owe me three galleons! *Ron crosses his arms and looks smug*]
*Fred's voice from off page* This doesn't count!! It's not even the story!!
*George's voice joins his* Yeah, we don't owe you till you get in the actual story this chapter and I don't see that happening!
Ron: It does so count!!
Molly Weasley: What!? How dare you boys wager on this nice girl's story! Arthur, this is all your fault, letting them gamble at the Quidditch Cup and now this!
Ron: Eeeep!
*Arthur Weasley's voice from off page* Now, boys. Your mother's right. It's not polite to make bets on the outcome of the story.
Ron: Does that mean I don't get my money? But what about Harry!? He already bet that he'd meet those two spikey haired blokes from Japan! There's no way he's losing that bet!
Hermione: Ron! Don't drag Harry into this!
Ron: But, Hermione! It's not fair!
Harry: Huh, what? Did someone say my name? Am I on yet?
*sniffle* No not yet. We still have to do the disclaimer.
Harry: Oh, okay, I better go get in my place then. C'mon Hedwig.
Hedwig: Hoooo-hoot.
Disclaimer:
I claim no ownership of Yugioh or Harry Potter. Don't own Naruto or Fushigi Yuugi either. If any of the characters should happen to mysteriously vanish from their current owner's possession...I was never there. ^_~
More of My Notes:
MERRY CHRISTMAS!! FELIZ NAVIDAD!!! HAPPY HANUKAH!! MERRY KWANZA!!
You get the picture. ^_^
Alrighty. Just to let you know, its been a while since I read the Harry Potter books so I may be a bit out of character for them all. Plus I may make some mistakes on what's happened during the 5th book because, to be honest, I was a bit disappointed in it. But it did provide ample opportunities for my imagination to get carried away and help to moosh Yugioh and the Harry-verse together. So, I'm going with it for the most part. I may alter Bill Weasley's romantic status a bit because I tend to think Isis and an elder Weasley brother would make a cute couple. And, well, Charlie is off in Romania with the dragons, so I can't conceive how he and Isis would know each other. Or maybe it'll just be a friendship between Isis and Bill. Not sure yet, we'll see what Isis and Bill have to say about it. Assuming they survive this chapter. ^_^
Anyway, since it's been a while since I last read Harry Potter, so I may make a few mistakes on what's happened in the past. If I have, please let me know in a non-pyrotechnic manner so I can correct it or explain my reasoning behind my alteration. Same goes for spellings of places and or names.
Also, time differences between Japan and England. I checked on a globe and saw that Japan is about halfway around the world from England, but not quite. Now since I do not know the exact difference between England and Japan, I'm just going to be arbitrary. From now on, in my story world, England is 12 hours earlier than Japan. If you don't like it, too bad. =P You're not the author of this fic. =D
Oh, yeah, Honda was being such a jerk last chapter because he was frustrated. His good friend, who might not have woken up, was laid up in the hospital for no apparent reason; someone or something put him there; and Honda couldn't do anything to prevent it, stop it, or make it better. He was frustrated, angry, and took the first outlet for his anger he could find. Which happened to be Yami Bakura who he already didn't trust much at all because of all the past times Yami Bakura tried to hurt Honda and Yugi and the others.
Ah, why make chapters shorter? Simple! So I can give you more of them, faster! Now isn't that a good reason. ^_^
Oh yeah, Harry's birthday is in July, Dudley's is sometime before summer break. Harry is turning 16 this year.
Anyway, here's chapter 3. Enjoy!
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Harry Potter and The Advent of Darkness
Chapter 3: What The Boy Saw
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Number 4 Private Drive, England, Ex-spare Bedroom, July 9th, 7:12 am.
The whole neighborhood, Number 4 included, was just beginning to wake up and greet the day. Well, everyone who considered themselves a welcome part of the neighborhood at least.
Early morning sunlight streamed in through the un-shuttered window and spilled onto the bed of the reclaimed spare bedroom and its single occupant beneath the rumpled covers. A tortured groan arose from the hapless victim of the sunny morning, followed by a grunt as he attempted to maneuver to a sunless position.
Any further attempts at pretending dawn had not come were shattered by a shrill voice accompanied by pounding on the closed door.
"Get up! Stop sleeping, you lazy boy! Hurry and get dressed." Petunia Dursley's high-pitched voice drilled through the boy's refuge behind the door and under the covers, making him wince as his forehead gave yet another sympathetic throb.
Harry Potter groaned as he sat up from beneath the covers. His green eyes were bleary and reddened from lack of sleep. His normally unruly black hair was even more rebellious than usual, the loser of last night's fight with the pillow.
The Boy-Who-Lived was certain that he would be a prize contender for the Undead of the Century Pageant if there happened to be such a thing. He had not been able to sleep last night.
It was not his scar searing him with pain that kept him up. No, nothing so commonplace for Harry. Instead, he had found himself tossing and turning all night. Every time he would approach the threshold of slumber, he would once again be bombarded with foreign sensations. Feelings not his own.
The half-taught lessons in Occlumency he had suffered through with Professor Snape had helped somewhat. No images had accompanied these sensations, and no foreign presence had intruded upon his mind. But that did not stop the emotions from leaking across to him. And it was these very emotions that had caused him to suffer a sleepless night. Or rather, the effect they had on him. Because these were not the ordinary emotions he felt from the strange link he shared with his nemesis through his scar. No, these emotions were the kind that made his stomach churn and his spirit writhe in distress so deep it was instinctual.
Voldemort was happy.
In fact, very, very happy. So happy, he was broadcasting his excitement and anticipation like a radio beacon. It was enough to make Harry want to hurl. As far as Harry was concerned, there were only three reasons Voldemort could possibly be this happy.
1. Voldemort had finally realized his desires for world domination stem from a psychological desire to be loved, and had gotten himself a girlfriend.
2. Voldemort had finally given up on becoming a dark wizard and had found his true calling as a born-again-hippie flower shop owner. Or ...
3. Voldemort had a plan. And it was working perfectly. And it was sure to be a doozy for the Order of the Phoenix.
Harry was pretty sure it was number three. And that meant trouble for the wizarding world and the Order of the Phoenix. Trouble that Harry could do nothing to stop.
Harry Potter had once again been holed up at the Dursley's since his school, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, had let out for the summer. Granted, his current state among the Dursley's was somewhat improved upon last summer, due mostly to the sendoff the members of the Order had given him at the train station. Essentially, the Dursley's pretended he didn't exist unless necessary. Even his cousin, Dudley Dursley, had stopped bullying him ever since the incident with the members of the Order. Now he took measures to avoid running into Harry, with or without his gang.
Of course, this did not exclude Harry from doing the chores, and any other menial tasks the Dursleys could come up with.
"Get your lazy self out of bed, you ungrateful child! Duddikins will be up soon and you had better not undercook the eggs in your haste, trying to make up for your slugabed ways!" Aunt Petunia's voice shrilled through his door, making the veins in Harry's temples attempt to claw their way into his skull to escape.
Wincing in pain, Harry rolled out of bed and attempted to find his glasses on the bedside table. Pulling them on, he glanced across the small room to the large empty owl cage. Hedwig wasn't back with the morning post yet.* Sighing, Harry got dressed and headed for the bathroom. As he passed Dudley's room he could hear his cousin's elephantine snores, and guessed that if he put his hand to the door he would feel it vibrate in its frame. Slugabed indeed.
A short time later, Harry entered the kitchen, hiding a yawn behind his hand. Aunt Petunia was cooking toast. Beside the waiting frying pan stood the half-gallon of I-Can't-Believe-It's-Not-Eggs-(Diet) liquid scrambled eggs. Aunt Petunia had decided it would be best to alter the dieting routine in order to keep up a façade that Harry was not being malnourished. Harry's previous state of near starvation would not have gone over well with Mad Eye Moody, Tonks, Remus, and Mr. Weasley should it have been discovered. Supposedly, the egg replacements tasted just like real eggs but with a quarter of the nutritional value. Harry wouldn't know, it smelled funny before being cooked, and looked rubbery afterward, regardless of how they were prepared. The first time Harry had seen them he had resolved not to touch them with a ten-foot pole, let alone his fork. Dudley seemed to share his sentiments, but he ate them anyway at his mother's, and doctor's, insistence.
Shortly before Harry had finished cooking the hazardous material, Uncle Vernon and Dudley entered the kitchen and proceeded to fill up the remainder of the spare space around the table. Dudley by far, outstripped his father in that department.
As Harry squeezed himself into the small portion of his side of the table not yet conquered by Dudley's girth, Aunt Petunia turned her beaming gaze upon her son as he stuffed his face with the grapefruit half that accompanied the non-egg mass on his plate.
"Duddikins, I know you're upset at your father and I for not buying that latest toy for that trading game of yours on your birthday, so to make up for it, we've planned a special outing just for you today."
Dudley eyed his mother warily, certain she was trying to distract him to prevent him from getting his prized gadget.
"Your mother's right Dudley, my boy. You're sixteen now. Time you picked out an automobile for yourself. Only the finest for my son, you know. We're taking you out to a first class automobile dealership in London. I'm good friends with the assistant manager of their London branch. Robert Harrington will give us a personal tour of the floor models, and we'll help you pick out the best auto on the lot." Uncle Vernon proudly beamed at his son from across the table, who was looking extremely pleased with himself at this news.
Harry had to hold his breath and bite his tongue to keep from collapsing in laughter. Dudley, in a car. It would have to be able to double as a boat to allow Dudley's massive girth to fit inside, let alone into the driver's seat. As it was, he took up two, sometimes nearly three seats in Uncle Vernon's latest company car.
Uncle Vernon glared at Harry as the boy turned slightly red in the face as his shoulders shook. "Here now, what's this! Are you choking boy! Trying to get attention I suppose. Stop that at once, it certainly won't work on us. Sit up straight and finish your breakfast. I won't have it said we starve you just because you refuse to eat a proper meal!" Uncle Vernon barked at Harry.
"He's not coming is he? I won't have it! I won't! He'll just ruin my special day!" Dudley began, fake tears threatening, as he turned red in the face and pouted at his mother.
"Of course not, Duddikins!" Aunt Petunia cried, wrapping her bony arms around Dudley's nearly indistinguishable neck. "He won't spoil things at all. I promise. Your father has decided to leave him here while we're gone."
"What! But he'll break my things! He's always breaking things; we should leave him with Mrs. Figg." Dudley smirked at Harry, knowing how batty Mrs. Figg was, but not knowing she was a witch that Harry would not have minded visiting. Harry caught himself starting to smirk back. He stifled it quickly, not wanting the Dursleys to know he didn't mind visiting Mrs. Figg anymore now that she didn't have to pretend to be a crazy old lady who made his visits unpleasant so that the Dursleys wouldn't stop having him stay with her.
"He had better not." Uncle Vernon grumped, glaring at Harry. "You had better not touch anything while we're gone, boy. Stay out of Dudley's and our bedrooms. And don't go outside either." He growled at the bespectacled youth.
"I'm sure he'll destroy my cards, father! He's always been jealous of my having them! It'll be just the opportunity he's been looking for!"
"Now, now, Duddy. We'll stop on the way home and buy you many more of those trading cards you like so much. In fact, we'll buy you some of the latest, rarest ones from that store you like so well." Aunt Petunia crooned to her darling little boy.
"Well, I suppose its all right then." Dudley frowned crossing his pudgy arms over his massive torso as far as they would go. "But, without that new dueling system from Kaiba Corporations, I don't know how I'll be able to properly face Piers. He's already got one. I should have one too!" Dudley scowled at his parents.
"Now Duddies, we discussed this already. Those duel pan things are so very scarce right now. You know we've been looking everywhere for them since before your birthday. Everywhere is sold out before we can get a chance to put one on layaway. As soon as we get word that there is one available, we'll be sure to buy it for you my dearest." Aunt Petunia soothed, in her thin, reedy voice.
Harry tuned them out as he quickly ate his slices of toast, liberally slathered with marmalade. He didn't really care much what they bought Dudley, so long as it meant they'd be out of the house. He really needed to go back to bed. Harry hadn't been getting a good night's sleep for weeks now. Not since ... well, not since he came back to Private Drive. His dreams usually woke him up, if fear of having those dreams didn't keep him from falling asleep in the first place. He'd be glad of a day to himself, without the Dursleys around to keep him from relaxing and trying for some shut-eye.
It wasn't long before the Dursleys had finished their breakfasts and were soon hurrying to leave for their day trip. Harry saw them to the door, and was given one last tongue lashing from Uncle Vernon on what not to touch in the house.
As soon as they were gone, Harry retreated back to the welcome solitude of his room and shut the door firmly behind him. As he slumped against the door, blinking his eyes in an effort to remove the last vestiges of exhaustion from his sight, Harry heard a soft, familiar hoot from behind him within his room. Turning around, Harry smiled warmly as he saw a friendly face, er beak.
Hedwig perched contentedly on the top of her cage, a folded newspaper in her beak. Harry crossed over to her and stroked the soft white feathers of her head after accepting the paper. She nibbled affectionately at his fingertips before spreading her wings for balance and hopping down to perch on the headboard of his bed. Harry offered her an owl treat before settling down on top of his blanket. He briefly considered writing his routine three-day letter to the Order, more specifically to Remus Lupin, before unfolding the Wizarding Times newspaper and scanning the pages.
With any luck, there would be nothing more exciting than an article on Percy's cauldron bottoms investigation.
Harry sighed. Luck was not with him today. It seemed the Death Eaters had struck again. This time it seemed Voldemort was having aspirations of internationalism. Two days ago, five muggle security guards and one museum curator had been murdered with the killing curse in the underground storage facility housing the majority of the artifacts for the Egyptian Archaeological Artifacts Preservation Department of the Natural Museum of Cairo in Egypt. There was a lot of collateral damage, but from initial reports nothing had been stolen. No suspects had been seen or heard, let alone caught. It had to have been Death Eaters though, who else would use the killing curse six times just to break into a museum storage room and, apparently, break stuff.
Harry frowned contemplatively. What was Voldemort doing, sending Death Eaters to Egypt? What sort of plan was he working on? What could he want from an Egyptian museum warehouse? He knew the Order would have already gotten this information, so there was no need to include it in the letter he planned to write later today, but still, it was unsettling. Especially so on top of the happy bubbly feeling he kept feeling from Voldemort's mind whenever his thoughts wandered.
Harry wished fervently for a large mallet with which to knock himself out so that he could get some untroubled rest. This was just making his head hurt as he tried to ponder the inner workings of a madman's mind.
Deciding he needed rest more than knowing what other bad news the paper held for him, Harry shut the blinds and flopped back onto his bed. Kicking off his shoes and pants, he crawled under the covers and prayed sleep would find him.
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England, July 9th, 10:05 am.
It was cold. Cold and wet. Harry shivered as a stiff breeze lifted the sheets of rain and battered them against him. He opened his eyes to an unfamiliar, yet hauntingly reminiscent scene.
There was no sun. Dark, almost black, storm clouds covered the sky for as far as he could see. There was no light. Not even the gleam from a distant window pierced the gloom. Somehow, Harry knew it was not night. Somehow, a storm had come up, so fierce that it darkened everything for miles around, creating an unnatural night.
He could barely see into the gloom of this place. Rain poured down in sheets, thick and harsh, blurring his sight of everything around him. The stinging droplets struck his skin. Harry had to squint to make out anything around him. Oddly enough, through the rain and gloom, what he could see he could see rather well. However, he wasn't wearing his glasses. For a panicked moment he thought they had fallen off and broken. Then Harry remembered; he had taken them off right before falling asleep in his bed. He was most definitely not in his bed anymore.
Harry turned around in a complete circle, peering searchingly into the gloom. He could barely make anything out through the driving rain. Glancing down to his feet, he could see he stood several inches deep in mud and muck. Lifting his foot from the ground, he saw he left no footprints behind. So, he wasn't really here, was he? But he could feel every raindrop as it struck his skin, and he could feel the squelch of the mud between his toes.
Turning back to the direction he had faced in the beginning, Harry again peered into the gloom. Faintly, he could hear something in the distance. Ever so faintly, the sound of many voices, raised in an echoing cadence, rose and fell. He could not make out any of the words through the howl of the wind or the steady rush of rain striking the ground and his body.
Harry cocked his head from one side to the other, trying to determine the direction of the sound. He had to be here for a reason, and he intended to find out what it was. This time, however; Harry had no intention of acting before letting the Order know about what he learned.
Finally deciding the faint voices came from almost directly ahead of him, Harry started forward through the rain and shadows. He hadn't taken more than a few paces before a dim gray shape rose up out of the indistinct haze of this place and revealed itself to him. Harry's feet came to an abrupt halt before this grim monolith. Turning once more to view his surroundings, the hazy shapes of the stone's companions began to take form and reveal themselves to Harry's searching eyes.
Dozens of weatherworn tombstones dotted this nightmare landscape. Crowding close, they seemed to hem Harry in from all sides. How had he missed them before, they were all around him? Harry shuddered from more than the chill of the rain soaking his clothes. The last time he was in a cemetery came back to his mind in a rush of jumbled emotions as fear choked his throat for a moment.
Faintly, the voices grew louder, more powerful, despite the distance. Harry's scar throbbed. Intense elation flooded through his body, making his soul twist in revulsion at the thought of that fiend finding pleasure in anything. Harry lifted his head, water dripping from his black bangs. He had to know what was going on.
He forced himself to go on, slogging through the muddy sludge that got deeper by the moment as the rain continued to pour down. The dark forms of the grave markers of those long dead rose out of the gloom and faded away once more as he continued towards the voices.
As Harry got closer, the voices became more distinct. Dimly Harry could make out a faint flickering glow coming from up ahead. As he slogged past the last of the tombstones separating the glow from his position, an imposing gray stone structure loomed out of the darkness.
Harry blinked the water from his eyes as he shuddered; chill seeping into his bones. The grim mausoleum was old and weathered; ivy and dark moss clung to its sides. Slickened with rain, the ivy shivered and rattled ominously with every moan of the wind. The iron gate at the door to the crypt hung open, bent and twisted off its hinges. The heavy metal door that led to the interior of the stone building was ajar. From within, the sound of chanting was now clear to Harry's ears, accompanied by a dim flickering glow.
Seeing no one outside the crypt, Harry approached the door and peered cautiously onto the scene within. Even from this close, the words being chanted were unknown to Harry. At first he thought it was simply that he could not hear them clearly. But it was soon apparent to him that the chant was indecipherable to him because it was in a strange foreign language.
Within the mausoleum, there was a short entryway that opened out into a larger square space that fronted the back wall where rows of coffins rested in niches in the walls, concealed behind small metal doors that were darkened with age and disuse. However, this was not what caught Harry Potter's undivided attention.
Upon the scuffed marble floor of the crypt a large design was painted in red ink of some kind. The design was unfamiliar to Harry; it did not fit the standard pentagram image so often associated with magical workings. There were four outer lines, forming three ring bands. The space between each pair of lines was filled with strange runes and symbols that wrapped around the span of the circular design like numbers on a clock. Within the innermost ring was a large open space. Inside this inner area was a large pattern made up of lines intersecting and connecting to form a six pointed star-like pattern.** It was formed from a series of four overlapping triangles, two points of each triangle touched the inner edge of the innermost ring. Where each point touched the ring, a single candle stood. The candles were set in intervals of black and blood red and each candle had the same sort of runes carved into the wax as were present on the giant sigil. Set into the center of the symbol, where the four triangles met in a single point, was a green stone. About the size of a snitch, minus the wings and flat on the bottom, the crystalline rock seemed to glow with a dim inner fire independent of the flickering candlelight. Around the outer edge of the circle, standing across from the apex of each point of the star- pattern, six Death Eaters stood at attention, their skull white masks hiding their faces from view as their voices rose and fell in the primordial cadence of a heartbeat.
Almost against his will, Harry found himself drifting slowly but steadily closer, drawn to the flickering gleam within the polished green crystal. As he drew closer, mesmerized by the pulsing thrum of the chant, he began to make out a pungent, sickly-sweet scent. The scent of blood.
Harry jerked back, breaking the strange lure the stone held on his mind. Blinking in momentary confusion, he focused on the scent of blood and with a sickening lurch of his stomach realized that it was not ink the runes were drawn with. Shaking his head to clear it of the unfocused fuzzy feeling that had filled it seconds before, he drew back slightly, wary of discovery by the dark wizards.
As Harry glanced around himself, he realized that no one had given any sign of awareness of his presence. Then, from across the room, he heard a familiar hated voice join with the chant. Turning to face the far side of the symbol from the doorway, he saw what he had previously overlooked. Voldemort, stepping forth from the darkness, his wicked red eyes gleaming with suppressed glee as his hissing voice joined with those of his faithful, and rose above them.
The chanting changed subtly as an oppressive feeling of constriction descended upon Harry. The cadence grew faster, more compelling. Harry found himself sweating with strain as he forced himself not to focus on the strange stone in the center of the bloody circle. Gasping to control his breathing, he broke away from the sight and focused on the dancing shadows to his right. There, cowering in terror at the powers being worked in this place, Wormtail crouched upon the marble floor, whimpering in fear.
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see the edges of the hideous circle begin to glow with an unearthly green light. The sickly green pallor filled the chamber, drowning out the flickering yellow of the candles as even their pale flames took on the sickening hue. A freezing wind picked up, whirling around the circle within the confines of the stone walls. The chanting became faster, more commanding now as the glow increased in power.
Unable to resist the pull of the stone, Harry turned back to face the circle. The entire symbol was a vivid, poisonously glowing, green hue. The stone in the center was no longer dimly gleaming. It glowed with green fire, as bright as a beacon, calling for him to be drawn in. The wind increased in ferocity. Biting into his exposed skin and ripping at his still damp clothes it whipped around the circle of Death Eaters. Tearing at their cloaks and robes even as they struggled to continue the chant. The oppressive power pulled at Harry, it seemed to be sucking him towards the stone in the center of the pentagram. Pulling him in against his will.
Harry fought against the pull even as it intensified. The chant pulsed in his ears, rising and falling with the beat of his heart as he gasped for breath. Oppressive power closed in around him, constricting and pushing him inexorably towards the glowing stone.
Harry had nearly been pulled to the very edge of the circle, a few more inches and he would cross the first vivid green line. Abruptly the green stone pulsed brighter than ever before, it filled the center of the symbol with green light so bright Harry could not look directly at it. Throwing up his arm to shield his eyes, Harry attempted to make out the cause of the change even as the throbbing chant died away to anticipatory silence. Dimly within the center of the light he could make out a form of some kind. A shadow against the blinding green light. Before he could make out any general shape or characteristics, the green light was overwhelmed by a burst of golden light so strong it was a physical force.
Harry was thrown backwards, away from the circle. Even as he fetched up against the wall of the mausoleum, the golden light faded and was swallowed by the green light. As Harry sat up and looked around he saw that all the Death Eaters, Voldemort included, had been thrown back from the circle as well. The green stone flashed with light, drawing Harry's attention back to it. He sucked in his breath in apprehension as the green crystal seemed to absorb all the green light within itself, getting brighter and brighter until it was unbearable to look at. Abruptly, the stone flared with power, the green energy blasting outward in an expanding radius that washed over Harry before he could even cry out in surprise. The power roared over and around him with a thunderous sound as he was picked up and tossed aside. Harry was certain the end of the world had come as everything around him shook and roared as the power blasted it apart, sending massive chunks of stone and crumbling, shattering coffins flying about in every direction. Harry saw the ground rushing up towards him as lightning and thunder cracked across the sky and the rain poured down as the wind howled.
Harry shot straight up in his bed, a scream tearing loose from his lips. It took a moment for his brain to register his surroundings and even longer for his heart to stop plunging madly about inside his chest. Gasping air into his lungs, Harry clutched his sheets to his stomach with white knuckled hands.
Bed. He was still in bed. He had not really been in that cemetery, or in that crypt. Even so, his shirt was soaked through with cold and clammy sweat.
'Had it been just a horrible dream? No, it was far too vivid for that.' That had been another of those visions he would get, spawned from Voldemort. The question was, was it for real or was it Voldemort trying to play with his brain. Harry didn't know the answer to that, but he was not about to go charging off to search every cemetery for blasted crypts. No, but he could do something better than that.
"The Order. Remus." Harry whispered determinedly to himself. "They have to know."
Even as Harry wrote down every detail he could remember from his dream and sent his letter off with Hedwig to Remus Lupin, he could feel him. Voldemort. A very, very pleased Voldemort.
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* Harry subscribed to the Wizarding Times newspaper to get daily info on Voldemort and his actions in my fic. He has a pre-paid subscription so Hedwig picks it up for him from the closest local owl post office every morning. [I don't remember the name of the wizarding paper Hermione usually gets in the books so I made up my own.]
** For those of you who have seen it. It looks just like the third stage Seal of Orihalcos/Curse of Orihalcos [part of Doom arc], only drawn in red.
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Well, there you go. Harry at last makes his appearance. I know, I know, the whole dream-vision thing has been way over done with Harry as an introduction for him. But I think I pulled it off rather nicely. What do you think?
Ron: I think you purposely didn't write me into this chapter just so I would lose the wager!
Who me? Nah! *discreetly accepts two galleons from Fred* I'm perfectly innocent. 0=)
Ron: *grumbles* I had better show up soon!
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Oh look! It's time for Reviewer Responses! YAY!!!
beyblader-kai's-girlfriend: There's going to be plenty of page time for everyone's favorite albino boys. Don't you worry.
Yugi actually met Yami before that in the manga, the meeting during the shadow game with Bakura in Duelist Kingdom was a way to have them meet for everyone who didn't follow the manga and/or who had never seen the first 27 episode series of Yugioh which was made by an entirely different animation company and did not revolve around duel monsters, but rather games in general. Yami was a lot darker in that series, most of the opponents/enemies he met suffered Penalty Games because they cheated or tried to hurt Yugi/Yami and/or their friends. They usually ended up dead or insane. The others didn't forget about the big Yugi-little Yugi dream, they just thought it was a dream. When they realized Yami was real and not a figment of a mass hallucination, I'm sure they remembered that weird nightmare and realized it had actually happened. Oh don't worry, that flashback is in there somewhere, just have to figure out the right place to put it. Yup, Noa is a Kaiba.
SPOILER FOR NOA ANIME STORY ARC!!!
He was Gozaburo's actual son years and years ago, but he died (I think a car hit him). Gozaburo Kaiba downloaded his mind, before Noa's body died, into a super AI computer Kaiba Corp. had developed for the military, which is why Noa never ages and lives inside the virtual reality world he later traps Yugi, Seto, and company in. Gozaburo adopted Seto partly because of an uncanny resemblance he had with his long dead son, Noa. I think he wanted to eventually upload Noa's personality and intelligence from the AI into Seto's body. But he gave up on that when Noa started showing signs of forgetting his humanity and thinking more statistically and emotionlessly like a computer does. After that he focused on making Seto as cold and ruthless of a businessman as possible so he could succeed him to the throne of Kaiba Corp. CEO. He seems to have done too good of a job because Seto took over the company when he was still a little kid and kicked Gozaburo out after acquiring 51% of the shares. Gozaburo then, either committed suicide or was pushed out a window by Seto [I think after threatening Mokuba]. Depends on the manga or anime.
SPOILER OVER!! ALL CLEAR!!
Curtis Zidane Ziraa: You'll see about Yami soon. =) You're the only one so far to have a problem with Jou as his first name. I don't think I'm going to change it though. It might be kinda confusing to some people to say his last name is Jounouchi, and then have everyone call him that like it was his first name, even if that's how it works in Japan.
Soon enough for you? ^_^
Dark-necrophhia666: Wow, so many conflicting responses about Jou's name. Well, I think I'm going to keep Katsuya as his last name anyhow. I fear your demons. *shivers* I'm writing as fast as I can, don't set them on me! If you do, my other reviewers might hunt you down. I don't think they'd appreciate a mangled corpse instead of an author.
Hyozanryu: I'm so glad you like it. Don't worry, I'm still writing this monster. =D
It'sHardToBelieve: Don't worry, I've got plenty more in store for all you wonderful reviewers.
Nope Bakura isn't that evil; you'll see why he's nicer in this fic later on; assuming I ever get around to figuring out where I'll stick my flashback to my made-up end of the AE arc.
JadedKatrina: I hope you get chills from reading this chapter too! I really worked on getting the dream-vision atmosphere down perfectly creepy. We'll see about the puzzle and Yami, you never know, I could make him go poof! *evil snicker* Aww, darn it, you guessed the villain of my story. How ever did you do that? *ponders innocently*
JenniChan: I'm writing I'm writing but I'm afraid my fingers are going to fall off if I keep up this pace! o_*
Eep, sorry, that darn eye piece ended up in the wrong place again, I had to drop by Konoha Hidden Village couple of days ago and rescue it from Jiraiya who was trying to use it to attract women to him. *shakes head at perverted old hermit ninja* Sorry you can't keep it JenniChan, gotta have it back for my story. Don't worry, you'll see what happened to it soon enough. =P Honda acts like such a jerk because he's upset and stressed and really needed an outlet for it before he put a hole in the wall, or punched a doctor, whichever came first. The first outlet he found was Yami Bakura, whom he's never really trusted, since when they first met he sent Honda to the Graveyard, and later he was obsessed with trying to steal the puzzle from Yugi.
Lady Silver Dragon I: Yay! You think my fic is cool! That's so ... COOL! I fixed the won't problem! Hehe, I went into MS word autocorrect and added it. =P Hope its getting more interesting by the chapter. Yes, inspiration is a good thing, sometimes. I have too much of it, can't stop writing. Maybe if you read my fic, some of it'll rub off on you and stop bugging me all hours of the day. Yup, squiggly things showed up all right. ^_^
Lizeth: Yay! Yup it is me. You like my summary? I was afraid it sucked. *looks sheepish* Oh you skimmed the conversations? I tend to put a lot of characterization in the conversations, humor too sometimes. Well I hope you like this enough to go back and read them through. ^_^ Eh, I don't think my chapters are staying balanced. Lots of anger and gloom in the last one; and now scary creepiness filling this one. Anyway, right now things are kinda gloom and doomy what with the puzzle breaking and the missing piece and the happy evil guy. [Happy evil guys are never a good thing.] Eh, you'll see I tend to interchange words a lot; landlord, host, etc. Half the time I call Seto Kaiba 'Seto' and the other half its 'Kaiba', dunno why, just sounds better in my head at certain points. Well of course Yugi's better at some things than Yami is, they complete each other so where one is lacking the other shines. ^_^ I really don't think Yami could pull off a truly effective puppy dog eyes. Oh don't you worry what I did to Yami, you'll see soon enough. ^_~ Yeah I noticed that too, Miaka in Fushigi Yuugi loves cake among other things. And Mokuba's favorite food is listed as chocolate in his profile. Ack, inspiration bug decided to glomp me during Christmas and not let go. I haven't had a chance to write up a review for HoM 8, but I can tell you I loved it! I was bouncing in my seat as I read it. =D AHHH! I'm on your favorites list! I'm so excited!!
Mists(): I'm glad you like it. =) Hope these updates aren't too fast for you. =)
Mwuahahahahaha!! Oh the joys of being evil! Why didn't you tell me before how good it felt Bakura! [Thief King: I can't believe you dragged me into this. -_-;;] Don't worry, you'll see where the eye piece went soon enough. I'll make you sweat and stew for a little bit first though. ^_~ Yes! Excited is good, very good. I reward your excitement with this chapter. =D
Princess Krystal01: Thanks! I'm glad you like it. ^_^
ruth 4 kai: Look two more updates! Yay! Don't worry, more to come.
Sachi-chan: Wow, my first review ever and it's literally glowing with praise. See, I gotta wear sunglasses just to read it! =P Don't worry, there's more coming to this fic. ^_^
Yup, that was quick. Its called, being insane. ^_^ Actually I think there are four Bakuras unless you count the flashback to chibi-Bakura. I was pretty worried that he was being too nice to Ryou in my fic, but I guess my worries were unfounded. =)
Saiyajin no Oujo: Glad you like it. Don't worry, I fixed that. =)
Shirubie: Wow, you're really putting me up there with the greats aren't you. Those are the two best hp/ygo crossovers I've seen on ff.net or anywhere for that matter.
simpleinsanity: Sorry about that, it's just that Kaiba is a really smart guy, genius actually. So he tends to use big words. Plus it makes him feel superior to Jou when Jou has trouble pronouncing them. ^_~
Subaru-S: Yay! Another person who likes my fic! I'm so happy. Oh, you'll see what happened to Yami, don't worry. Yeah, I tend to picture stuff in my head like it's a movie or an anime episode, and then I write what I see and hear the characters saying and doing. Um...that's not freaky is it? o_0
The Mad Tortoise: Ooh! You put me on your favorites list! I'm so happy! Don't worry, there's lots more coming as soon as I find time to write it all down.
You really think so? I do hope to be a professional author. I am a creative writing English major after all. Why would I cut down on chapter length? So I can bring you wonderful people more of them and faster too! Glad you hated my cliffie, its so rewarding to know one's evil deeds are under-appreciated. *evil grin*
Tuulikki: Maybe a little too detailed? Should I cut down on the detail a bit? If so where? Or was that just your way of saying my chapters are insanely long? Aww, thanks! Merry Christmas to you too! Hope you like my gift of another early chapter. =D
Youkai Youko: Yay! You put me on your favorites list! I'm glad you like it. =)
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Once again, the purple button is calling to you. Its saying "Review, Review because you know you want to. Its fun!"
Until next time! Bye bye. ^_^