Yu-Gi-Oh!
Dawn of Fate

CHAPTER ELEVEN – THE SCHOOLS' CHAMPIONS

The morning of Saturday, October thirty-first found Marik pacing back and forth in the Gryffindor common room, upset by the mess he had just gotten himself into. Now that he had had a chance to sleep on it, he realized what a dumb idea it was to try and impress Hermione by entering the Triwizards Tournament. He really should have known that some kind of stupid, egotistical thing was not going to impress her. Now he was stuck; his only hope was that he would not get chosen as the Hogwarts champion.

Marik stopped his pacing and sighed, running his hand through his hair before deciding to go down for a late lunch. Before he could leave the common room, however, the portrait door swung open to admit the girl that had occupied his thoughts longer than most people had. He put a friendly smile on his face.

"Good morning, Hermi…chan…"

Hermione outright ignored him, walking past him briskly to get to the fourth year girl's dormitory. Marik rubbed his forehead, trying to massage away a headache that was starting to grow. Then again, that tournament was starting to sound really good right about now…

Deciding that dwelling on it would be pointless, Marik left the common room and made his way through the halls of the school for that late lunch he thought of having. He almost made it to Great Hall, when he ran into the one person that was successfully continuing to get under his skin.

Viktor Krum.

The Egyptian balled his hands into fists, trying desperately to resist the urge to slug the Bulgarian. After Ron had told him all about how great Viktor was at the Quidditch Cup, Marik had taken a liking to him, admired him even. Now, however, it was different. Now, the Quidditch player had come in contact with his girlfriend, who had obviously taken a liking to him as well. Now it was personal; he was competition…

…and he needed to go!

His common sense loosing this battle, Marik was about to go up and confront the Bulgarian, when two arms looped around each of his arms. Surprised, he looked on either side to see both Bakura and Yami Bakura steering him away from what probably would have ended in a fistfight.

"Now, now, Gravekeeper," the tomb robber admonished. "We can't just go around beating up our ex-girlfriend's boyfriend, now can we?"

Marik glared, allowing the two of them to guide him down another entrance to the Great Hall. "How do you…?"

"Marik-kun, this is my other half we're talking about," Bakura supplied. "I'm surprised he doesn't have eyes in the back of his head."

A thoughtful look crossed Yami Bakura's face. "No, I don't… but that'd be awfully damn useful. You wouldn't happen to know where I could find a pair, would you?"

Marik wanted to slap one of them, or both, though Ryou was not really doing anything but following his other self's lead. He pulled his arms out of their grasps, frustrated. "Look, you guys, why don't you go torture the pharaoh, or something?"

Yami Bakura gave him a look, before he shrugged and motioned to his hikari. "C'mon, I think his highness-ness is in a broom closet."

Bakura blinked. "Why would he be in a broom closet?"

Both Marik and the tomb robber gave him a bland look. "Don't tell me you're that ignorant…" Yami Bakura replied, grabbing Bakura by the arm and dragging him off.

Marik sighed as the two of them left. Yep, that tournament was definitely starting to look good right now…

-.oOOo.-

Hermione made her way down the halls to the library, Aishisu following silently behind. It was getting harder and harder to stay away from Marik, despite that she did try very hard to do so, though it did not help that sometimes she just wanted to throw herself at him and swear she would never do anything like that again. Maybe starting a relationship with Viktor would help her overcome that problem…? True, he was a very nice young man, though it would help if he could pronounce her name properly…

She turned a corner and stopped dead in her tracks, with Aishisu almost plowing into her from behind. Standing hand-in-hand in the middle of the empty hallway was Seto and that veela. Hermione backed up a bit, hiding behind the bend as she watched the two of them. The veela said something that made the young Japanese businessman turn an interesting shade of red, before reaching up on her toes to give him a light peck on the cheek. She walked off, waving good-bye to him and he did the same, an odd sort of lazy smile that looked out of place on his face.

"I've got to stop this," Hermione whispered to her other half. "Seto doesn't know about the veela. He doesn't know that she's luring him in!"

"It doesn't look that way to me…" Aishisu observed, but Hermione did not hear her as she started to march off to where Seto was standing. Sighing, the soothsayer hurried to follow her, not wanting to get dragged down the hallway.

Seto turned as he heard Hermione approach, surprised to see her there. He greeted her pleasantly – which that in itself was a surprise – but she just waved it off.

"Seto, you really shouldn't see that girl," she stated brusquely. "Don't you know what a veela does?"

The young businessman frowned, both at her tone and at the topic. "No, I don't. Fleur seems normal enough to me."

Hermione made a face. "Fleur is just making you like her!"

Seto raised an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"

"That's what a veela does," she explained urgently. "They're temptresses that have a natural ability to lure men towards them. In ancient times, they were known to seduce men to their deaths!"

Seto's frown deepened as he crossed his arms. "I think you're being a little paranoid."

"And I think you're not taking this seriously!" Hermione replied. "She luring you in, and she's going to break your heart in the end."

The older boy rolled his eyes as he turned away from her, shaking his head slightly. A long moment passed where it seemed like Seto was considering something, before he turned to face her again. The expression on his face was resolute, as if he was more than positive with the decision he had reached.

"I don't care what she is," he stated simply.

Hermione blinked, surprised by his response. "How could you not…?"

Seto smiled softly at that. "Because… I know she isn't doing anything to make me like her. She doesn't have to. I…"

He trailed off at that, as if the words he wanted to say next were not in his vocabulary. Instead, he rammed his hands into his pockets, muttering, "See you," before walking past her on his way back to his dormitory. Hermione stood shock still in the center of the hallway, her brain trying desperately to process what just happened.

"But… but…" she stammered. "How could he even be sure? How could he not care?"

Aishisu smiled softly. "My light, when you love someone deeply enough, there are no answers. You just know these things."

Hermione paused a moment, biting her lip in thought. The soothsayer observed her carefully, gauging her reaction to those words, hoping they would sink in…

No such luck; the young girl just gripped her books close to her chest and started walking off again.

"Well, if he's so sure, then I guess it's none of my business," she said over her shoulder, invoking another sigh out of Aishisu. She started to follow her light half again, wondering why she ended up with such a stubborn host.

-.oOOo.-

The gentle autumn breezes blew through the grounds of Hogwarts castle, rustling the multicolored leaves on the trees they still clung to. The rustling gently faded away, like the decrescendo of a song, only to crescendo once again a moment later. Yami Yugi sat under one of these unique music makers, a soft smile on his face as he watched a group of first year student playing with the tentacles of the octopus that lived in the lake. His aibou was reclining comfortably in his lap, reading a small textbook, and the pharaoh took the opportunity to run his hands through the shorter boy's hair. Yugi hummed in appreciation, before closing the book and setting it aside in favor of snuggling closer to his darker half.

"Tonight's the night, isn't it?" he asked, yawning lazily. "Tonight's when we're going to find out who's going to be the champions in the Triwizard's Tournament."

"Hai," Yami Yugi agreed, tilting his head to smile where his hikari could see. "Anxious?"

Yugi shrugged. "Not really. Honestly, I'd like it if you didn't get picked for it."

The pharaoh frowned. "Then why did you make such a big deal about me entering?"

Yugi treated him with a heart-melting smile. "Because, mou hitori no boku, I want you to do everything that you want to do. You're getting the chance to live your own life now, and I don't want you to be held back."

He poked him in the arm for emphasis. Yami Yugi chuckled slightly, holding onto Yugi tightly.

"I live this life for you…" he murmured. "You're the only thing worth living for for me… my koibi—"

The pharaoh was cut off as suddenly both him and his hikari found themselves drenched in a rather drastic downpour. Looking around, it did not take long to figure out that said downpour was only focused on them… and the giggles and hoots of laughter from the tree above them were also a good indicator of who did it. Yami Yugi stood up, shaking an angry fist at the two white haired individuals.

"I swear to Ra, tomb robber!" he snarled. "I'm sending you both to the Shadow Realm next time!"

Bakura fought back his giggles, an apologetic look on his face. "Gomennasai, Yami Yugi-kun, but he made me go along with this!"

Yami Bakura gave his hikari a horrified look. "No I didn't, you sneak!" he exclaimed. "It was your idea!"

The two of them burst into fresh laughter once again. Grumbling under his breath, Yami Yugi picked up his hikari – who was shivering from the combined cold water and cool breeze – and stalked off to the castle.

"You know, mou hitori no boku," Yugi began. "Bakura-kun's starting to scare me. He's acting a lot like his other self lately."

Yami Yugi frowned bitterly. "I noticed."

-.oOOo.-

Normally, the Halloween feast was something that no one really wanted to end. That night, however, it seemed to take twice as long as it normally did, especially for Marik, who was twitching with nervous anticipation as he ate. Yami Yugi was anxious too and was showing it through his appetite – he had already polished off two chicken legs and was well on his way to finishing a third. Yugi urged him to slow down as the Gravekeeper craned his head around to see Yami Bakura acting quite the opposite, having maybe eaten half a dinner roll. Bakura kept urging him to eat more, but the tomb robber shook his head, a squeamish look on his face.

"Gosh, I'm nervous," Ron said, nibbling on a pumpkin pasty. "I wonder who'll be picked for our school."

"I hope it's a Gryffindor," Hermione offered. She had been going out of her way to not look at Marik throughout the whole meal, no matter how hard he would make it for her to do so.

"Just as long as it isn't a Slytherin," Draco muttered. "I can just imagine how much Ecillia would gloat. Who do you think will get chosen, Harry?"

Harry, however, was not paying attention. His eyes were on Marik, who almost seemed to be sweating in his nervousness.

"Are you okay, Marik?" he asked, drawing the Egyptian's attention. Marik bit his lip; he had not told the others he had entered. He did not want to worry them. Besides, he probably would not get picked anyway. The tomb robber was probably better suited for something like this.

"I'm fine," he answered, forcing himself to calm down. "Just a little anxious to see who gets picked, that's all."

Not long after he finished saying that, did the plates clear away as the feast ended. Marik gulped softly as Dumbledore stood up from his seat. On either side of him were the headmasters of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, Madame Maxime – the giant woman – and Professor Karkaroff – the severe looking man that could probably be a poster model for the Death Eaters, in Marik's opinion anyway. Also sitting at the professors' table were two men that Ron had pointed out to them before when they had sat down at the start of the feast; Ludo Bagman, the head of the Magical Games Department or something like that at the Ministry of Magic, and Barty Crouch, whom Ron only identified as his older brother, Percy's, boss.

The Goblet of Fire had been moved to sit before the professors' table, and Dumbledore moved to stand before it.

"The goblet is almost ready to make its decision," he stated, his voice carrying clear to the end of the room thanks to the hush that had fallen over the crowd of students. "When the champions' names are called, I would ask them to please come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through the next chamber, where they will be receiving their first instructions."

Marik's insides twisted up into a little ball as the elderly headmaster waved his wand, snuffing out all the candles except those in the floating pumpkins above. Only the light of the blue flames from the goblet gave any significant light, making everyone around him appear ghostly.

"Any second…" Lee Jordan murmured, while Yami Yugi practically dug a hole into the wooden table with his nails.

Suddenly, the flames glared red, and with a pop, a charred piece of parchment came fluttering out before the flame turned blue once more. Dumbledore reached out and caught it with ease.

"The champion for Durmstrang," he called out, "will be Viktor Krum!"

A swarm of applause broke over the crowd as the Bulgarian Quidditch player got up from his seat, Marik glaring at him the whole time. The only time the Egyptian stopped was when he disappeared behind the door to the next chamber, and even then he uttered a rather foul curse for good measure.

The clapping died down again just as a second piece of parchment shot out of the goblet.

"The champion for Beauxbatons," Dumbledore announced after catching it, "is Fleur Delacour!"

Marik turned to the Ravenclaw table where the Beauxbatons students were sitting, surprised to see the girl Seto had been hanging out with stand up from her seat. Seto held onto her hand for a moment – Marik suspected he was wishing her luck – before she went off to join Viktor in the other room.

"Good thing Seto didn't enter," Yugi commented. "His luck, he probably would have been chosen."

"Yeah, his luck," Marik replied a bit dully, unconsciously tapping his foot in nervousness. It was the Hogwarts champion next, and he still was not sure if he seriously wanted to be in the tournament or not. He supposed if he got chosen, then he got chosen; at least that would give him a chance to one-up that damned Viktor Krum…

Marik's breath froze in his throat as the flames in the goblet turned red again. His eyes grew wide, watching the piece of parchment that fluttered out slowly drift down to Dumbledore's waiting hand. The headmaster read the name on it, a bit of a smile coming to his face. Marik bit his lip, digging his fingers into his palms; just come out and say it already…!

"The champion for Hogwarts…" Dumbledore started, pausing for dramatic effect. "Is Marik Ishitar!"

The applause that exploded from the Gryffindor table alone was deafening. Nearly all of his fellow classmates had jumped to their feet, screaming and stamping, while Marik just sat there. "Dumbfounded" would have been an understatement for how he felt about all this. He glanced over to the Hufflepuff table, where he could see Yami Bakura yelling something incoherent over the applause, though he suspected it had something to do with murdering him for not mentioning that he entered the tournament. Closer to home, Yami Yugi was staring at him, stunned; almost as if he did not know whether to congratulate him or strangle him. Hermione was also staring at him, shock the reigning emotion on her face.

Marik smirked as he got up. Well, at least entering had accomplished getting her to look at him.

He had just about made it to the door of the adjoining chamber, when he heard the pop of the Goblet of Fire once again. Turning in surprise, he watched as another piece of parchment was shot up into the air. On a reflex, Dumbledore caught it, his expression souring when he saw the name on it. A long stretch of silence followed, and Marik was itching with curiosity as to what was on the slip. There were only supposed to be three wizards entering the tournament – it was not called the Triwizards Tournament for nothing, after all – so why had a forth name been shot out of the goblet…?

Dumbledore cleared his throat, before announcing, "Harry Potter…"

-.oOOo.-

Harry followed Marik back to the common room that night, his feet feeling like both of them were nothing more than lead weights. Someone had entered his name for the soul purpose of him getting into the tournament… but why? Was there someone that wanted to kill him so badly that they would risk tampering with a highly magical device such as the goblet, just so it would spit out his name…?

Marik watched the younger boy out of the corner of his eye, concerned. This was really bad; despite what Harry had been through so far, the Gravekeeper was not a hundred percent sure that he could handle what this tournament was supposed to dish out. If all the rumors were true, then it was going to be dangerous… very dangerous.

Marik turned around, making Harry stop in his tracks.

"You going to be okay?" he asked.

Harry blinked. "I… I don't know…"

"Look, if it's any consolation, I know that you didn't put that name in that goblet," Marik stated. "There's no way you could have, especially considering that it spit out your name after a Hogwarts champion was already decided. Do you know how to do that, 'cause I sure as hell don't."

Harry let out a frustrated sigh, letting it take his tension with it. "Thanks, Marik. I'm glad someone doesn't think I did this on purpose."

Marik nodded. "Look… I know Dumbledore told us not to help each other with the tasks. But if you need help just for you… then come to me, okay? You know I'll be there to give you support."

Harry smiled what had to be the first true smile he had since his name got called out. "Thanks, Marik."

The Gravekeeper gave him a thumbs up. "No prob!" he stated. "Now, knowing the Weasley twins, they probably have one helluva party going on up in the common room…"

-.oOOo.-

Bakura laid spread out on his back that night in the Hufflepuff forth year boy's dorm, the comforting embrace of sleep eluding him. He sighed and rolled over, wishing he had someone he could talk to. Well, he had his other half, but he had stormed into his Soul Room after Marik was chosen as a champion and had not come back out. Biting his lip, he rolled over to his other side; would it be wise to bother with the tomb robber at this hour? Probably not, but…

Deciding he had better do something before he lost his nerve, he retreated into his own Soul Room. Ignoring the toys and various occult paraphernalia that littered the room, he walked over to the door and opened it, revealing the Soul Corridor beyond.

Bakura walked up to Yami Bakura's Door and hesitated again. He had never been in his other self's Soul Room before, and he was almost afraid of what he would find there. To say that the tomb robber had a bit of a… disturbing mind was an understatement. Knowing the spirit, his room was either filled with gold and other treasures, or dead bodies.

He gulped as he reached for the handle. "You can do this, Bakura," he muttered to himself. "It's not like it's real or anything. It's all in your mind…"

With that said, he twisted the handle and opened the Door…

What he saw on the other side was far beyond what he expected to see. His bare feet crunched on sand as he stepped into a scene that looked like it was derived directly from Egypt's past. Up above, stars dotted a cloudless night sky. A small adobe hut sat unassumingly in what seemed to be the "center" of the space. Someone had left out long dried laundry, and it swayed gently in a breeze that could not be felt. There were similar huts dotting here and there a short distance away that eventually came together to form a fairly large town, though Bakura had a suspicion that he could walk for as long as he wanted to, and he would not get any closer to the other huts.

"This must be…" Bakura muttered to himself. "Kuru Eruna…"

"Who's there?" someone demanded, making him nearly jump out of his skin. Yami Bakura revealed himself from behind the small hut in the center. The tomb robber rolled his eyes when he saw him.

"Oh, it's just you," he replied.

"Don't sound like you're happy to see me or anything," Bakura replied dryly, walking up to him.

Yami Bakura rolled his eyes again. "What do you want?"

"I'm worried," Bakura stated, ignoring his other self's manner.

"About Marik," the tomb robber replied. It was not a question.

"Hai," he confirmed. "I'm worried he may have entered the tournament for the wrong reasons."

Yami Bakura waved a dismissive hand. "That guy's not thinking with the right head," he replied. "Even when he does manage to use that brain of his, it gets him in trouble anyway, so you could say that this was inevitable."

Bakura gave him a withering glance. "Just like it was inevitable for him to be taken over by a psycho?"

"Just because we had no clue, doesn't mean it wasn't inevitable."

Now, it was Bakura's turn to roll his eyes.

"Look, all I'm saying is that we can't not expect what will happen, when we already know it will," the tomb robber continued. "When you found out Marik and Hermione had a fight, did you think he would try to do something stupid to get her back?"

"I thought he would try to do normal drastic things," Bakura replied, "like getting her chocolates or trying to sing. I didn't think he would try to do this."

Yami Bakura frowned. "Fools in love. I swear, he's no different than the pharaoh."

Bakura crossed his arms. "But Yugi and Panseru make a cute couple," he said in his friends' defense. The tomb robber just grinned devilishly.

"Don't get any ideas."

Bakura made a face at the thought. "Believe me, I'm not."

The spirit sniggered before saying, "Anyway, let the Gravekeeper do what he wants to do. If he makes an idiot out of himself, we can all laugh about it. If he gets in trouble, we'll respond accordingly, fair?"

Bakura muttered an, "I suppose," before turning around to go back to his own Soul Room. He paused a moment, however, seeing something strange. Behind him was one open Door, the Door he had used to get into the tomb robber's Soul Room in the first place. Right next to it, however, was another Door, this one closed. He frowned at it – he knew he hadn't seen it out in the Corridor – before turning back to his other self.

"Where does that one go to?"

Yami Bakura hesitated a moment. He seemed as if he was going to tell him it was none of his business, but quickly changed his mind.

"That… was his Soul Room," he answered quietly.

Bakura whirled back to look at it, surprised. "It's still here!"

There was a long pause, and he looked over his shoulder to see that Yami Bakura was looking down at his feet, kicking at the ground slightly.

"I'm afraid to open it," he said finally. "I know he's gone… but… I don't want to know what's on the other side of that door."

Bakura turned around to face his other self fully, surprised by the admission. He had always been under the impression that his other self was not afraid of anything; that the tomb robber had been through so much already that there was not anything left for him to be scared off. To find out this, to find that he did have something that made him afraid… it made him seem…

Human…

"Anyway, I meant to tell you," Yami Bakura continued, snapping out of it. "If you come up with any other ways to torture his highness-ness, don't be afraid to share them."

Bakura smiled softly. "No problem."