Yu-Gi-Oh!
Balance

CHAPTER ELEVEN – ANTI-DEMENTOR CLASSES

Yugi woke up early a few days after Christmas to the sound of someone rushing about the room as quietly as they could. Concerned, he squeezed out from under Yami Yugi's arm and peaked through the bed curtains. Seto was the one flitting about, going from his clothing trunk to his suitcase, packing up his clothes and books and various other supplies. He swung out of bed at the sight of this, walking over to the taller boy and making enough noise so as not to startle him as he approached.

"Seto-kun, what's wrong?" he asked.

Seto looked down at him with an odd look that Yugi had never seen on his face. It was a look of concern laced with worry and fear; emotions the CEO of Kaiba Corporation never showed. He waved over to his bed, where his laptop computer was opened up, showing off a display of an e-mail program.

"She was right, Yugi-kun," he replied. "Mokuba's sick. The doctor's just e-mailed me."

Yugi gasped… before he frowned. "How can you get online? The barrier around the school…"

Seto waved a dismissive hand. "I rigged it so it would send a laser-fine radio beam through the barrier to the Kaiba Corporation satellite system, which in turn would be relayed to Kaiba Corporation Headquarters' main computer and Internet service."

"Right…" Yugi replied, having no idea what he just said. "Anyway, what happened to Mokuba-kun? Did they say what's wrong with him?"

Seto stopped his packing, swallowing painfully. "It's cancer…" he choked out. "Something in his… his brain. They didn't go into details." He swiped furiously at his eyes before continuing his packing. "I gave them the go ahead to operate. If I hurry, I'll be back in Japan by the time they finish."

"How are you getting there?" Yugi asked, as he started to fight to get his suitcase closed.

"I've already talked to Dumbledore," he answered, managing to press the top of the case closed enough so he could zip it up. "He's going to escort me to the airport personally through a Portkey and make sure I get on my plane all right."

He hauled the suitcase over his shoulder and was about to lug it out of the room, when Yugi noticed he forgot something.

"Seto-kun, your laptop," he said, snapping it closed and holding it out for Seto to take.

He frowned, before setting his case down and taking the computer. He opened it up and typed in some commands before handing it back to Yugi. In place of the e-mail program that had been there, was a log in screen of sorts that had his name in one box and a row of stars in the other.

"I created your own account on there," Seto explained, hauling up his suitcase again. "The password's 'Black Magician', no capitals or spaces. I'll keep you informed of how my otouto is doing, and you keep me informed of what's going on here."

With that said, he turned to leave…

"Seto-kun!"

Seto turned back to him, who was looking up at him with his wide-eyes. A silent, understanding moment passed between the two of them before he smiled gently, mussing up Yugi's hair, only to have it spring back into place.

"Thanks, Yugi-kun," he said. "If we're able, Mokuba and I will see you when you come back to King's Cross."

Seto shifted the suitcase over his shoulder, before heading out of the third year dormitory, down the steps, and out of the common room for the rest of that year.

-.oOOo.-

The others were upset about Mokuba's condition and Seto leaving, but with classes starting up again on January second, they did not get a chance to dwell on it. No one was thrilled about having to go out on the grounds in the raw of winter, but Hagrid treated them with a bonfire of salamanders. Divination was not nearly as enjoyable, as Seto's absence was sorely felt. Not only that, but they had progressed on to palmistry, and Professor Trelawney did not hesitate to tell Harry he had the shortest lifeline she had ever seen.

Ancient Egyptian Magic was a certifiable nightmare; they had moved on to Egyptian potions, and it was clearly obvious that this was different from the Potions they were used to. The first day, Marik and Hermione paired up together, but despite his girlfriend's intelligence, the potion they were working on ended up backfiring in his face anyway.

"Marik, are you all right!" she exclaimed, horrified.

Marik coughed, dazed. "Just dandy…"

Harry was elated about Defense Against the Dark Arts, and the promise that him and Yami Bakura would be starting anti-dementor lessons. The two of them approached Professor Lupin about it one day before dinner, hoping they could get started as soon as possible.

"Ah, yes," Lupin said when they reminded him. "Eight o' clock on Thursday evenings in the History of Magic classroom sound good to you?"

They agreed, and Lupin went off to join the other professors at their table. Yami Bakura raised an eyebrow.

"Is it me, or does he still look sick to you?"

-.oOOo.-

Thursday came faster than any of them anticipated, and soon Harry was joining up with the tomb robber outside of the History of Magic classroom. It was dark and empty when they entered the class, but a quick wave of Harry's wand fixed that as they sat and waited for the professor. They did not have long to wait, as Lupin appeared after a few minutes, hauling with him a briefcase containing a boggart.

"So…" he began, taking out his wand. "Now, what I'm going to show you is ridiculously complicated for the level you're at; way beyond Ordinary Wizarding Levels. It's called the Patronus Charm. When it works, it conjures up a sort of… anti-dementor, a Patronus. It's a guardian, consisting of positive thoughts, which a dementor cannot feed off of."

"So what's this 'Patronus' supposed to look like?" Yami Bakura asked, casually draped over a chair and desk. They had already determined that Harry was to go first, so he was in no hurry to even look like he wanted to get up.

"It is dependant on the wizard who casts it."

"And how do you do that?" Harry asked.

"With an incantation," Lupin explained. "Which will only work when said while focusing on a strong, happy memory."

Do you even have any happy memories? Bakura whispered in the back of his other half's mind.

Quiet, you, Yami Bakura replied delicately. Truth was, though, he was a little worried; there was not much he could remember that had been happy. At least, not before… He shook it off before he could dwell on it for too long.

Lupin taught them the incantation – Expecto Patronum – and set Harry off to practice. The first time, he fainted almost immediately. Lupin put the boggart away and roused the young wizard, giving him a piece of chocolate before they started again. That time Harry lasted a little longer, but he still ended up hitting the floor. It took both the professor and the tomb robber to get him up and going that time.

"I… I heard my dad," he mumbled, accepting their help to sit up. "That's the first time I've ever heard him… he tried to take on Voldemort himself, before…"

Harry swiped at his eyes furiously, not meeting either of their gazes.

"You heard James?" Lupin asked in a strange voice.

"Yeah…" Harry choked, before he realized something. "Wait; you knew my father?"

"I… I did, yes," the professor admitted. "We were friends when we were students. Listen, Harry, maybe we should stop this. This is ludicrously advanced; I shouldn't have offered –"

"No!" Harry exclaimed, getting back to his feet. "I'll have one more go! I'm just not thinking of something happy enough."

Lupin gave him a moment, during which time Yami Bakura retreated back to the chair he had been sitting at. After a long moment, Harry nodded, and the boggart-dementor sprang out of the briefcase again. The young wizard was shouting the incantation at the top of his lungs, and to the spectators' surprise, a shadowy sort of silver glob shot out of the end of his wand. It hovered there between him and the dementor, before Lupin shouted "Riddikulus!" and shoved the boggart back into the case. Harry collapsed into a seat next to the tomb robber, looking thoroughly exhausted.

"Excellent, Harry," Lupin congratulated. "That was definitely a start."

"Can I have one more go?" he asked.

"No, not for you, not tonight," the professor replied, handing him a large bar of chocolate. "No need to do too much in one go."

"Guess that means it's my turn," Yami Bakura said, a bit reluctant.

Through out the time Harry had been going against the boggart-dementor, the tomb robber had been wracking his brain, trying to find a memory that was at least remotely happy, so he had not really noticed how much the boggart replicated a real dementor's abilities. He hoped that his lack of attention was not going to hurt him, as he went to stand where the young wizard had been when he went up against it. Settling on the memory of when his youngest sister was born, Yami Bakura nodded to Lupin, and braced himself.

The dementor rose out of the briefcase as soon as the professor flipped it open, its gnarled decaying hand reaching out for the tomb robber. He shouted out the incantation with all his might, but he soon felt the cold wave piercing right through him. The classroom and everything in it dissolved into a thick, white fog. Voices of those who had long since died screamed through his consciousness, leaving echoes of unimaginable pain and suffering. Then, there was the voice; a voice so very familiar and yet terrifying at the same time. It was the voice of a man he never thought he would hear again…

"Bakura! Where is he! Bakura!"

"We should leave! The soldiers –"

"Woman, I'm not leaving without our son! Bakura!"

There was the street again; the dusty streets of Kuru Eruna, only the dust had been replaced with the blood of the people who used to walk on it. There was the old man again, reaching out a pleading hand to him before he was skewered by the spear of the pharaoh's guard. There he was again, barely tall enough to reach the top of a vendor's cart, hiding behind a building and watching in wide-eyed terror as his friends, neighbors, and relatives were slaughtered. There was that steaming vat again, molding together the flesh, blood, and bone of everyone he knew; melding them together, shaping them into seven golden items…

And then, there was no more.

-.oOOo.-

Yami Bakura awoke drowsily, surprised that he was still in control of his hikari's body and surprised even further that he was staring up at the ceiling of the hospital wing. He sat up with a jolt, something he regretted in the next second, as his whole head started to pound. Groaning, he massaged his temples, when he suddenly found a bar of chocolate in front of his face.

"This'll help," Professor Lupin said. Yami Bakura snatched it greedily.

"You all right, Yami Bakura?" Harry asked from the other side of the bed.

"Do I look all right?" he growled.

"If I say 'no', will you send me to the Shadow Realm?"

Yami Bakura just rolled his eyes, before savagely snapping off a piece of the chocolate with his teeth. He swallowed it, before turning his focus back to Lupin.

"Professor, what's under a dementor's hood?"

Lupin seemed a bit shocked that he would be asking him questions about the creatures after what had happened. He recovered quickly though, coming to the conclusion that this was probably just the way of this half of his student.

"Well, the only people who know are in no condition to tell us," he began. "The only time a dementor lowers its hood is when it is to use its last and worst weapon."

"What's that?" Harry asked, curious. The tomb robber nodded for him to keep going.

"They call it the Dementor's Kiss," he continued, a bit of a twisted smile coming to his face. "It's what they do when they wish to destroy someone utterly. I suppose there must be some kind of mouth under there, for they clamp their jaws on the mouth of the victim and… suck out their soul."

Yami Bakura almost choked on his chocolate.

Harry was horrified. "Th-they kill…?"

"Having your soul taken away doesn't kill you," the tomb robber replied. He knew that all too well.

"Yes, indeed," Lupin confirmed. "You can exist without your soul as long as your body continues to function, but you wont have any sense of self anymore; no memory, no… anything. You just exist, and there's no hope of recovery either. Once your soul is taken by a dementor, it's gone for good."

Harry was just stunned, but Yami Bakura still had questions.

"What about a person with two souls?" he asked. "What happens in that instance?"

Lupin gave him a rather bland look. "I think they would consider that a feast."

The tomb robber frowned, but did not say anything else as he stuffed the last of the chocolate in his mouth. He mentally assigned himself homework: come up with a very happy memory before next Thursday, or do not even bother showing up.

-.oOOo.-

News that Ravenclaw had lost against Slytherin spread through the school like wildfire. Their defeat meant that Gryffindor still had a shot at winning the Quidditch Cup, though it was a very slim shot. That was why Wood was doubling their training schedule, and for Harry, between practice and homework and anti-dementor lessons, he was literally crawling into bed by the end of the day, exhausted beyond words.

Hermione, though, had the worst of it. Every night she was seen in a corner of the common room, surrounded by books, Arithmancy charts, rune dictionaries, diagrams of muggles lifting heavy objects, and folder upon folder of extensive notes in her tidy scrawl. She hardly spoke to anyone, and the only person she did not snap at when they interrupted her was Marik. Him and Yugi were also the only people who would really talk to her at all after the Firebolt incident; the other boys were still peeved at her.

That all changed however, when Harry and Yami Bakura ran into Professor McGonagall after a particularly grueling session with the boggart-dementor. After scolding them for not watching where they were going, she held out the one and only Firebolt, looking just as beautiful as the day Harry opened it.

"Well, here it is," she said. "We've done everything we could think of, and there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with it at all. You've got a very good friend out there somewhere, Potter."

The two boys exchanged bewildered looks as the professor left.

"Whoa," the tomb robber said. "Gryffindor is going to rock!"

The two of them parted, with Harry going off to Gryffindor tower holding his new broomstick in numb shock. As he turned the corner, he saw Marik and Draco dashing toward them, both with ear-to-ear grins on their faces.

"She gave it back to you!" Draco exclaimed, excited beyond words.

"Excellent!" Marik stated. "Can we all still have a go on it? You know, after practice tomorrow."

"Sure, anything," Harry replied numbly. He turned to Draco then. "I guess we should apologize to Hermione, hunh?"

"You better," Marik said, giving the both of them looks. "She was only trying to help."

Harry looked at him a bit guiltily. "Where is she?"

Marik sighed. "Where else?"

The three of them rounded into the corridor where the Gryffindor portrait hole stood, only to find Neville Longbottom pleading with Sir Cadogan.

"But I wrote them down!" he exclaimed. "I must've dropped them somewhere!"

"A likely tale!" Cadogan exclaimed, before he noticed Harry, Draco, and Marik. "Good evening, my fine young yeomen! Come to clap this loon in irons?"

"Oh shut up!" Draco snarled at the portrait as they came up to the two of them. Neville looked up at them pathetically.

"I've lost the passwords," he explained miserably. "I had him tell me all the one's he was going to use this week so I could write them down, but now I don't know where they've gone!"

"Oddsbodikins," Marik told the portrait.

Sir Cadogan frowned, disappointed, before swinging open to allow them entrance to the common room. At that moment, everyone there noticed Harry and his Firebolt, and in the next moment everyone was swarming around him, trying to get a chance to touch the legendary broom. For ten minutes, the broom was passed around and observed from every angle before the crowd finally dispersed.

Harry, Draco, and Marik went over to where Hermione was bent over her work as usual.

"I got it back," Harry said, brandishing the broom.

"See, Hermione, not a thing wrong with it!" Draco exclaimed, getting a dirty look from Marik.

"Well, there might have been," she stressed. "At least now you know for sure it's safe."

"Yeah, I suppose –"

Harry never got to finish, as a strangled yell came from the boys' staircase. The whole room fell silent, staring at the entrance to the boys' dorm, as hurried footsteps echoed down the stairs. Ron came leaping into view, dragging a bed sheet with him.

"Look!" he bellowed, going over to Hermione's table. "Look!" he repeated, shoving the sheets in her face.

"Ron, what…?"

"Scabbers! Look! Scabbers!"

The four of them stared at the crumpled bed sheet once Ron stopped shaking it furiously. There was something red on it, and it looked awfully like…

"Blood!" Ron yelled in the stunned silence. "He's gone! And you know what was on the floor!"

"N…no…" Hermione whimpered.

Ron threw something down on a chart of rune translations. The four of them leaned forward for a better look. On top of the strange, jagged shapes were several long, ginger cat hairs.