Wicked
By: Neko-chan
A/N: Last and final chapter: Yami no Malik confronts Harry Potter. Who will win~? Guess you'll just have to read the chapter to find that out. *sticks tongue out* Ne, and I hope that you're happy with the 'sequel,' 'Zoo-san. *dies* ... x.x;;
DISCLAIMER: Neko-chan does not own Harry Potter or Yu-Gi-Oh!. But~ just imagine what would happen if she DID own both? *grin grin grin* ... D
~ * ~
Screaming.
Everyone was screaming, wailing and crying and begging him to save them. They were praying to him and to the Other, hoping that he--they?--would come to rescue them from their torment. Hands reached out of the darkness, tugging at his robes. They tried to pull him in, attempted to show him the suffering that they had to go through before they finally died. The boy fought against them, shrugging off their hands, fighting desperately against the grip that they had upon him.
They wouldn't let go.
The darkness became one long, never ending shriek.
...
And then, it all stopped.
The boy paused, gasping for breath as he slowly collapsed to his knees. The pull was gone and he felt lighter, freer. There was no more crying, no more begging and pleading. For the first time in a very long time, the darkness was silent. His eyes closed slowly, enjoying the peace and quiet that filled him and his surroundings.
"Gomen nasai," a voice whispered. A small soft hand cradled his cheek and the boy once again opened his eyes. Violet stared back at him.
It was a short boy with spiky red, black, and blonde hair. The newcomer was leaning over the boy, huge purple eyes worried and just a little bit sad. His lips stretched slightly, one end of his mouth tilting up to form a lopsided smile.
"Gomen nasai. Gomen nasai, Potter-kun. Boku... Boku..."
The violet-eyed boy trailed off and huge tears slowly fell from his eyes, trailing down his cheeks to drip one by one from his jawline. Though the other couldn't understand what the newcomer was saying, he could see that the shorter boy was grieving, crying for himself and for the others that had fallen before and after him. The violet-eyed boy was weeping for the boy whose face he cradled oh-so gently.
"Gomen nasai..."
"I--It's all right. I understand. Please don't be sad. Please."
The smaller boy paused momentarily, biting his lip as he went over the English words in his mind. Slowly, so as to not jumble the words together, he spoke. "I... I am so sorry, Potter-kun. Onegai... Please... Please realize that I never wanted this to happen. Boku... Boku... I... I wish you luck and pray that you succeed. Please, you must succeed!"
He leaned forward and slowly wrapped his arms around Harry Potter's neck, hugging him tightly. "I want you to _live_," he whispered fiercely in Harry's ear. "Please... live!"
The green-eyed boy blinked. "Wh--Who _are_ you??"
"Mutou Yuugi."
"Are you a dream?"
. . .
"Iie. I'm a spirit now. I've already died."
"...what?"
~ ~ ~
He slowly opened his eyes. The room was lit with a predawn light, softening the corners and edges of the room. Reality was hazy and seemed only to be a dream. He blinked and quickly sat up, his brow furrowing. ...a dream?
The word triggered a slumbering memory that lay dormant within him. A dream? There was something important that he should have remembered, but couldn't. But what was so important about a dream? Why was it so important to remember a dream, something his subconscious had created while he slept? It couldn't have been that important... right?
Harry Potter sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. The green-eyed boy could feel a headache begin around his temples--aching and throbbing and pounding mercilessly in his head.
"Why... Why does it hurt so much trying to remember??"
"Mmm... 'Arry? You okay there, mate?"
A tousled head poked its way out of the curtains in the bed next to Harry's. Ron blinked sleepily and rubbed an eye, yawning as he did so. Harry smiled slightly as he noticed several locks of Ron's hair that were standing up on his head, giving his best friend a rather devilish appearance. For the first time in a long while, Harry laughed quietly. The red-headed boy blinked again and stared at Harry quizzically.
"Huh?"
"Nothing, Ron. Just... nothing."
Ron shrugged and once again disappeared behind his bed's curtains. Harry could hear him shift around on the bed, returning and burrowing underneath the covers. The Boy Who Lived shook his head at his friend's antics and continued rubbing his nose's bridge, hoping to somehow relieve the pressure that continued to build up.
"Oi, and Harry...? If your headache has been giving you this much grief, just give up and go to the Infirmary. You'll be patched up in no time. 'Sides... You've been having these headaches every morning for the past month or so. They're kinda worrying me, so just go and get yourself checked out. Okay?"
The boy paused and looked over at the other bed in surprise. 'He... knew? All this time and he knew about my headaches all along?'
Harry sighed and slid out of bed, his toes curling as his skin met cold stone. He quickly shrugged into his robes and made his way towards the stairway that led to the Common Room below. Before he could disappear completely from sight, a loud snore from Ron's canopied bed alerted him to the fact that his best friend had fallen asleep once again. Harry rolled his eyes in exasperation, idly wondering to himself when the red-head would manage to drag himself out of bed and join the living in the Common Room and the Great Hall below.
The green-eyed boy made his way down the stairs, stepping quickly so that he could avoid the cold stone floor as much as possible. The month of December was just beginning and the whole entire castle was freezing--Harry could see his breath fogging in the air before him. He zipped through the Common Room and pushed up the portrait of the Fat Lady, finally stepping out into one of the main corridors with his right foot.
The boy brought his left foot down and stepped on something soft and fluffy, warm against his cool skin.
Harry blinked and looked down, staring at the object in avid curiosity. It was a feather. Smooth and beautifully formed--white and seeming to almost glow against the dark stone floor it rested upon. It was a down feather... an owl's down feather.
A white feather.
A _white_ feather.
An _owl's_ white feather.
It almost looked like...
Like...
Harry blinked again and slowly looked up. The feather wasn't alone--just off to the side, making their way down the corridor and sliding down the stairs that were located at the end of the corridor--there was a trail of _white owl feathers_.
~"Oooh! Look at the snowy owl!" An envious sigh. "She's so beautiful! I wonder who she belongs to?"~
...
"HEDWIG!!!"
Feet pounded on the floor and a young man with dark hair and flashing green eyes quickly darted down the corridor, and ran down the stairway, skipping several steps at a time to quicken his pace. He hoped--prayed--that he would be able to make his way to his owl in time to save her. What he didn't know was that he was charging full tilt into a trap.
As the dark-haired boy disappeared from view, a smaller figure stood overlooked in a doorway. He frowned unhappily, violet eyes sad and grieving for the future that had yet to occur. Eyes still on the path that Harry Potter had taken, the short boy slowly faded from sight, returning once again to the realm of which he now belonged to.
"Gomen nasai, Potter-kun. Gomen nasai."
~ * ~
The dungeons deep underneath Hogwarts school were shadowed, hidden crevices scattered everywhere. Potholes and cracks marred the floor, making footing treacherous and chancy at the very best. Quiet crying echoed off of the broken and chipped walls.
A dark-haired figure had collapsed to his knees within the deepest and darkest room, huddled over a small broken and twisted form. The boy clutched the owl to his chest, swallowing hiccuping sobs as he cradled Hedwig closer to his heart.
The owl was cool--and had been for quite some time.
"How does death feel, Harry Potter? Does it hurt? Does it burn? Do you want to kill and hate and destroy, hoping others will feel the anger and loathing deep within you? How does it feel to _hate_, Harry Potter? The Darkness tastes so delicious, doesn't it?"
The boy gasped and his head jerked up, scanning the shadows with wide, frightened eyes. Harry lost his balance and fell back, pushing his back up against the nearest wall so that whoever had spoke couldn't sneak up behind him. "Who are you?" he yelled into the dark room. "_Who are you_?!"
There was a deep-throated chuckle and a tan cargo-pants clad leg slowly stepped into the light. The rest of the figure followed soon after, staring down at the green-eyed boy with a sadistic and malevolent expression on his face. Hair stuck out at all angles, thick and prominent and sharp. A glowing eye materialized on his forehead while soot-black lashes lowered slightly, giving the newcomer an almost cat-that-got-the-canary expression.
"..._what_ are you?"
The person smirked and his eyelashes raised, revealing eyes that looked to be violet... until the meager amount of light reached them and turned them a demonic shade of red. Blood-violet eyes.
"My name is Yami no Malik, Harry Potter. Doesn't Harry Potter remember who Yami no Malik is? Doesn't he? After all, when the Light finally has the chance to meet the Darkness, how could the Light ever possibly forget its chance meeting with Darkness? Darkness taints the Light and _makes_ it so that the Light cannot ever forget it. You asked me what I am, Harry Potter. And I shall answer you. Ore-sama... _I_ am Darkness."
"W--What?"
"I am the darker side of humanity. Such a chilling thought, ne?"
Harry tightened his hold on Hedwig's body, a slight tremor rocking his body. He was scared--how could he not be? But the Boy Who Lived wasn't going to give in and clue 'Yami no Malik' in on the fact that he _was_ scared. And yet... if he admitted it to himself, he wasn't exactly scared. He was _terrified_ of the dark figure before him. He was terrified of what the dark figure was capable of achieving.
Yami no Malik tilted his head to one side, squatting down so that he was eye to eye with Harry. He slowly closed and opened his crimson-tinted eyes; as he stared at Harry, the blood-violet eyes glazed over slightly. As the boy watched, Yami no Malik's 'self'--his consciousness, what made him the being who he was--slowly receded and his body became an empty shell, filled only with an emotion that few had the... 'privilege'... to experience. Pure, unadulterated hatred.
"I hate the Light," the yami hissed, leaning forward to whisper in Harry's ear. The boy shivered as a spike of hair softly brushed his cheek. "I hate it so much. It burns and crushes and tears apart everything that ever mattered to me. The Light banished me, hating me for being who I was created to be. And yet... The Light didn't win because before it could destroy me, Darkness took me in and sheltered me; shaping me; nursing me. The Darkness let me live just a little bit longer."
The Egyptian chortled happily and the green-eyed boy could see Yami no Malik's sadistic grin out of the corner of his eyes, the smile twisting and distorting the young man. The right side of his face elongated, stretching impossibly. The shivering began anew.
"For the Darkness, I'll destroy the Light. I'll sacrifice those that stand in my way. I'll sacrifice those who love and adore and worship the Light, reveling in its power. I'll kill you all, shatter the Light, and bask in the Darkness' glory, gloating in the fact that--no matter HOW hard you try--you'll _never_ be able to defeat me. You'll never be able to defeat Darkness. Darkness consumes all."
"That's not true."
"Oh? Really?"
"Yes..."
"Then you're lying to yourself."
There was a glimmer of gold and Harry found himself staring at an ancient looking eye, one that was similar to the glowing eye that was located on Yami no Malik's forehead. The eye of Horus. The Boy Who Lived continued staring at the eye and... and... and...
* * *
He slowly opened his eyes--everything was hazy and cloudy and indistinct. There was a blur of red above him and a flash of color surrounded by black off to the side. What...?
"Wh--Where am I? Who are you? I don't understand anything that's going on!!!"
Harry sat up and rubbed frantically at his eyes, desperate for them to clear. He finally blinked and stared at what had been the red blur. It was a woman. Turning his head quickly to one side, he stared at what had once been bright, colorful eyes surrounding by black, unruly hair: A man.
The man and woman weren't strangers to him. Every single time he opened the photo album that Hagrid had given to him, these two people smiled and waved at him, tightly holding a baby boy with black hair and eyes that looked like emeralds close to their bodies. They looked happy in the photographs. They looked happy now.
"... Mum? Dad?"
"Hello, Harry. It's been a while," the man--his Dad?--answered, grinning broadly down at his son. It was so eerie--it was like looking into a mirror, seeing an exact replica of himself only with small imperfections here and there. Disturbing, most definitely.
"We've missed you so much," the woman continued. "It's been so long; so very, very long..."
It truly _was_ his Mum and Dad. After so many years of being alone, wondering what had happened to his parents, grieving and torn apart with the knowledge that his enemy had killed them, murdered them while they tried to protect him... Hiding in the shadows while watching and yearning as his friends and their families interacted--loving each other, being together, not knowing or realizing what hell it was for Harry to watch them all, knowing that he could never be a part of it... But his parents were here now. _They were here._
"MUM! DAD!"
He lunged forward, wrapping his arms around his mother's waist and holding onto her tightly. Now that he had the chance to finally see them again, he was never letting go. Never. The boy started crying, huge wracking sobs shaking his body with their force. The red-headed woman faltered for a moment, but soon wrapped her own arms around Harry's shivering and shaking body, holding her son close.
"Shhh... Shhh... It's all right now, Harry. Everything is all right. We're all together now. You, me, your father--we're a family again. It's all right..." she murmured, gently brushing Harry's bangs away from his flushed face. She kissed his forehead and her husband came closer, wrapping his own arm around Lily's shoulders.
"Hush little baby, don't say a word; Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird..."
* * *
"Hush little baby, don't say a word; Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird..."
The dagger that was hidden within the Sennen Rod slid against the pale throat, cutting through the skin as easily as cutting through fine, smooth silk. The wound was clean and blood quickly pooled over the gash, making its way down the boy's flesh. Yami no Malik began to hum contentedly to himself, smiling as Harry's bright eyes faded and dulled and became glassy. The Boy Who Lived slumped over, eventually falling to the cold stone beneath him.
"Hush little baby, don't say a word..."
Emerald green eyes slowly closed and a tear fell, making its wet pathway down cheekbones and skin, dripping to the ground with a small, single gasp of sound. The Boy Who Lived's chest faltered and did not rise again. And that was the end.
~ * ~
Darkness spread upon the Earth and the Light faded away, disappearing forever.
~OWARI~
::END::
A/N: ...and 'Zoo-san got the ending that she wanted. Darkness overcame Light. And now Neko-chan shall celebrate because 1) She managed to finish another chaptered fic (though it was supposed to be a _one-shot_; 2) She wrote an acceptable Harry Potter/YGO! crossover; and 3) She finally realized why E-chan described her as sadistic, enjoying playing with people's minds before she eventually screws them over. *shakes fist at E-chan* ... P ... Finally: 4) Linkin Park is still, and forever shall be, an excellent band to listen to whilst writing. ... XD
This is the end~ ... Ja!
=^^=
~Neko-chan