Yu-Gi-Oh!
Dawn of Fate
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This chapter took so long not because I was busy, but because it was SO LONG and it still ended up as a cliffhanger. -_-; Hopefully no one will kill me for this...
And, now, a very short Q&A:
insane2seto: Wow, that was 6kb worth of pure nonsense. _ If you're going to review my story, actually review it, and not some crazy story. -.-;;
MillenniumDreamer: -_-;; Just don't point that flamethrower at me.
Rowan Girl: Don't feel bad. The only person who knows what happened to Draco in the last story, other than myself of course, is not talking. ::fingers Baseball Bat of Divine Justice:: And Yami Seto isn't freaky! He's luvable! :3
Yami Yami Yugi: No, he doesn't loose it in my story. And... young lady? I'm twenty, I'm an old fart compaired to most of the people on this website. ;)
Mimiheart: No, playing step on the beetle is Yugi's job. ;)
All right... now, so I can stop recieving the same question again and again. I am a very busy person. I have a job, a webpage, a cat, and a life to maintain. If the fact that sometimes there are three week interludes between updates didn't give you a clue, I AM A VERY BUSY PERSON! Please, please don't ask me to read your story. I'm sure it's very good, but I can barely keep up with the stories I have in my favorites, not to mention read the stories of someone whom I barely know.
Also, a few notes. "Yoriisku" -- which is probably spelled wrong -- means "pleased to meet you". Also, the majority of Crouch's lines near the end of this long chapter were excerpted from the book.
As always, read, enjoy, and review.
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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE - TRUCES AND LETTERS
Yami Yugi dusted his hand off, a satisfied smirk on his face, as he finished off what was to be the prank to end all pranks. If he had calculated right, Yami Bakura would be coming down the stairs from the Hufflepuff common room at any moment for breakfast. Since the tomb robber had an annoying habit of sliding down banisters, he had set up a trip wire at the bottom of the stairs. With any luck, he would trip over the wire and when he landed - if he had gotten it right - a trick charmed rope he had bought from the Weasley twins would tie itself around his legs before hauling him up into the air.
The pharaoh smirked to himself. It would be fun to try and see how long the tomb robber would be dangling there before someone finally had the heart to let him down.
Footfalls from above shook Yami Yugi out of his thoughts. He jumped over the banister to another set of stairs below, staying on that long enough to get a peek of wildly spiked white hair before heading down the staircase.
He did not know what happened next. One minute, he was quietly making his way down the stairs, sniggering softly to himself. Next thing he knew, he was landing on the ground with a painful thud… and then the ground was suddenly several feet below his head as something pulled him up into the air by his feet. Yami Yugi frowned as he dangled in the air, pushing the Millennium Puzzle out of his face; now how the heck did he know...?
There was a yelp from above him, followed by a thud, followed by a yowl of surprise as Yami Bakura landed in his trap. The two of them glared at each other from where they were hanging in the air for a good long moment, before one of them spoke.
"Now how the heck did you know I would be coming this way?" Yami Yugi demanded.
"I didn't," Yami Bakura snapped back. "I was coming down to try and lure you over here. No wonder George said it seemed like these trick ropes were getting really popular."
They continued to glare at each other for a good moment, before the tomb robber's face broke out into a grin.
"I think we should call a truce," he said.
Yami Yugi chuckled, shaking his head. "I think so too," he agreed. "Now, how do we get down?"
"I've got it covered," the tomb robber said, starting to swing back and forth. After a moment, he gained enough momentum to swing up and grab his feet. His deft fingers quickly untied the rope; unfortunately, once the rope was untied, it lost its ability to hover in the air. Yami Bakura landed on the ground with a painful THUD, groaning as the wind was knocked out of him.
Yami Yugi bit back a laugh. "Shit, Bakura. Are you all right?"
The tomb robber leaned his head back far enough to look up at him. "You try it, see how it feels."
"How the heck else am I supposed to be getting down from here?" the pharaoh replied, starting to swing back and forth like Yami Bakura had done.
He had just managed to get a hold of his feet, when a shout and scrambling of feet distracted him. Craning his neck around, he saw the other spirit climbing to his feet before rushing down the stairs. The tomb robber positioned himself under him, in a stance where he could catch him and not end up on the ground again. Yami Yugi just looked at him like he had grown another head.
"What do you think you're doing?" he asked.
Yami Bakura just smirked. "Don't worry, Panseru. I'll catch you."
Yami Yugi raised an eyebrow at the use of his real name. The tomb robber had only used it once in all the time he had known him. Any other time he called him "pharaoh", or "your highness-ness"; all in the most absolute sarcastic tone anyone could pull off. It was a bit... odd, to say the least.
"Well, what are you waiting for?"
Deciding that a sore rear end was not much to stress over if he did not catch him, Yami Yugi started to untie the rope. As soon as the knot was undone, he dropped from the air, only to land in Yami Bakura's outstretched arms, drawing a grunt from said spirit. The tomb robber took a moment to steady his footing - least they both end up on the ground - before dropping the arm that held up the pharaoh's legs, setting him back on the ground again.
"Ano... arigatou," Yami Yugi replied, feeling extremely awkward.
There was a long stretch of uncomfortable silence, with the two of them regarding each other carefully. Finally, the pharaoh nodded to himself, making up his mind. He held out a hand to the tomb robber.
"Boku wa Panseru," he introduced.
Yami Bakura looked at his hand, concern and uncertainty mixing together on his face. After a moment, however, he smirked, reaching out to grip the pharaoh's hand in a handshake.
"Oré wa Bakura," he returned. "Yoriisku."
The two of them grinned at each other, chuckling slightly, before heading off to breakfast in the Great Hall (which they were already late for), chatting idly.
"Yeah, so I thought of this prank to pull on Ecillia."
"Oh...?"
"Hai, but I need some of those Canary Creams from the twins..."
~.oOOo.~
Yugi was munching on a piece of bacon when Ron walked into the Great Hall, looking highly disturbed. He numbly went over to his seat at the Gryffindor table, looking from Yugi, to Draco, to Marik, to Harry, and back to Yugi. When asked what was wrong with him, he shook his head, trying to clear it.
"I saw something really weird down the hallway," he announced.
"What?" Yugi asked.
"Yami Yugi and Yami Bakura... being FRIENDLY."
Harry and Yugi exchanged alarmed looks.
"Hell hath frozen over," the Gravekeeper jibed.
"That's really creepy..." Draco said, nibbling on the corner of his toast.
Just then, the post owls arrived, cutting off any further comments on the subject. Yugi looked up anxiously, as if he were expecting something.
"What's up, Yugi?" Draco asked. "Expecting a letter from Sugoroku?"
"No, not that," Yugi replied. "I got a subscription to the 'Daily Prophet'. I'm getting sick of hearing the news from Ecillia and her thugs."
"Looks like you're in luck," Harry said, as a small gray owl soared toward Yugi. It was not holding a newspaper, however, but a small envelope.
"No, I don't think -"
Yugi cut himself off as, to his bewilderment, the gray owl landed in front of him... followed by four barn owls, a brown owl, and a tawny. Each of the birds had envelopes addressed to him, and they were hopping about, anxious to be the first to deliver their letter. Dumbstruck, Yugi took the one from the gray owl first, opening it up... and frowning deeply.
"Oh, Kami-sama! This is ridiculous!" he exclaimed, passing off the note to Harry. It was not even handwritten; instead, it seemed to have been pasted together from letters from the "Daily Prophet".
You are a WickEd boY. HarRy PotTER desErVes
BeTter. Go back wherE you cAMe from muGgle.
"They're all like this!" Yugi exclaimed, distressed, looking through each of the letters. "'Harry Potter can do much better than the likes of you...' 'You deserve to be boiled in frog spawn...' AH!!!"
Yugi shouted in surprise as he opened the last letter. A yellowish-green liquid smelling like petrol gushed all over his hands. Large, ugly yellow boils erupted in response.
"Undiluted bubotuber pus!" Ron exclaimed as Marik jumped out of his seat, trying vainly to help Yugi wipe the disgusting substance off his hands. Yugi was near tears from the effort, his hands now so thickly covered in sores, it looked like he was wearing a rough pair of gloves.
The Gravekeeper helped him stand up, before leading him out of the Great Hall, trying to keep his hands covered. They encountered Yami Bakura and Yami Yugi just as they were to leave the hall. Words were exchanged, before the pharaoh put an arm around his hikari to lead him out, and Marik and the other spirit came back to the Gryffindor table.
"The pharaoh's pissed," Marik announced, sitting back down.
"What the hell happened?" Yami Bakura demanded, picking up one of the letters.
"Fan mail," Draco replied dully.
Yami Bakura frowned, before reading aloud, "'I read in 'Witch Weekly' about how you are playing Harry Potter false and that boy has had enough hardship and I will be sending you a curse by next post as soon as I find a big enough envelope.' Damn. Who'd he piss off?"
"Rita Skeeter," the Gryffindor boys replied.
Marik shook his head. "I tried to warn him this would happen. Though... now I don't know who I feel sorry for."
"What do you mean, Marik?" Harry asked.
Marik smiled ruefully. "I mean, I don't know if I feel sorry for Yugi for having to put up with this... or if I'll feel sorry for Rita when Yugi gets his hands on her."
~.oOOo.~
Yami Bakura glanced over his shoulder at his hikari, who was sleeping soundly next to him on the bed they shared. He had a gentle, peaceful look on his face, as if nothing in the world could bother him at that moment. The tomb robber just wished he could feel the same way. Something was tugging at the back of his mind however, something that he should have taken care of already.
What was behind the Door...?
Frowning to himself, he slipped silently back into his Soul Room, shuddering out of reflex as the unfelt breezes of Kuru Eruna at night blew soundlessly. He approached the Door in question, the sand tickling his bare feet slightly. A long moment passed where he just stood there, staring at the door that had led him to be consumed by so much hate and so much despair, both in his past life and in this one.
He had made friends with the pharaoh. The people of his village would be ashamed of him…
Or would they? How could he even know? All that misguided hate... and he ended up being manipulated by the two people whom he and his spirit beast should have been fighting against in the first place.
Not the pharaoh.
The pharaoh was never an enemy, but an ally.
Gritting his teeth, Yami Bakura's hand shot out, grabbing a hold of the handle to the other Door in his Soul Room, the one that led to a Soul Room that only his consciousness was connected to. Before he could loose his nerve, he threw the Door open...
There was no Room, nothing... not even "nothing". On the other side of the Door, he could only see the sand dunes beyond, what he would have seen if he walked around the Door. Before he could even figure out how this could be, the handle to the Door disappeared from his hands. He turned to look in surprise, just as the doorframe vanished as well, leaving only the Door itself behind. Feeling emboldened, he pushed at the Door, making it fall over... only to watch it as it vanished before it even hit the sand.
Yami Bakura stood there, staring at the door for a long, thoughtful minute. Suddenly, he did something he had not done in a long time.
He smiled.
It was not an evil smile. It was not an "I'm better than you and you know it" smile. It was a soft, gentle smile. It was something he had not done for thousands of lifetimes... and it felt good to be able to do it again.
"Sayonara, Akunadin," he whispered. "Sayonara, Zork Necrophadisu."
~.oOOo.~
The start of the summer term usually meant that Harry and Marik would be working extra hard during Quidditch practices. Instead of their favorite sport, however, they were preoccupied with the third task of the Triwizard Tournament. The only problem? They still had no idea as to what the task was going to entail. Even asking Fleur got them no where, as she did not know either, and neither of them were about to ask Krum, ESPECIALLY Marik.
Then, at the end of May, Professor McGonagall held the two boys after class to tell them that they had to go to the Quidditch field at nine to learn about the final task. The two of them ended up actually leaving the castle at half past eight, anxious to finally see what exactly they would be doing.
"What d'ya think we'll have to do?" Marik asked as they walked along the dark lawn. "Fleur was saying at dinner that she thinks it might have to do with some kind of treasure."
"That'll be easy," Harry commented. "I'll just ask Hagrid for one of those nifflers."
Marik smirked. "Either way, I'll just use the Ring," he said, patting the Item against his chest. "Talk about a universal tracking device. Check this out."
The two of them paused just as they were about to enter the stadium. Marik held up the Ring so that the points were dangling toward the ground.
"Harry," he said.
Two of the points responded immediately, glowing as they came up and pointed to Harry, who was standing on his right.
"Quidditch field."
The two points that had been pointing to Harry dulled and dropped, just as the center point glowed to life and pointed at the Quidditch field before them.
"Forbidden forest."
As before, the center point dulled and fell, and the left two points came to life to point at the forbidden forest. Marik grinned as he set the Item back against his chest, the two points also coming to a rest. Harry nodded his head, impressed.
"It seems like you've really gotten the hang of that thing," he complimented.
"Well, I still have some things to work out," the Gravekeeper admitted. "I still can't think of something, and expect the points to respond. I'll have to ask the tomb robber how he managed it. Anyway..."
The two of them entered the Quidditch field... only to find that the field was no longer smooth and flat like they remembered it. It looked as if someone had built a series of crisscrossing miniature walls all over the place. Further inspection proved that the "walls" were really hedges still in the process of being grown. Marik looked scandalized; how dare someone mess with their precious field!
"Ah, gentlemen!" Ludo Bagman called from where he was standing in the center with Fleur and Krum. The two of them went to join them slowly, careful not to step on any of the hedges.
"So, what do you think?" he asked as the two of them cleared the last hedge. "Growing nicely, eh? Give them a month, and Hagrid will have them twenty feet tall. Now, don't panic," he added, seeing the stricken looks on Harry and Marik's faces, "you'll have your Quidditch field back to normal as soon as the task is over. Now, can either of you guess what'll be happening here?"
There was silence, before...
"Maze," Krum grunted.
"Exactly!" Bagman exclaimed. "The final task is really quite straightforward. The Triwizard Cup will be placed here, in the center. The champion who navigates the maze and captures the Cup will receive full marks for the event."
"We seemply 'ave to get through ze maze?" Fleur asked.
"Well, there will be obstacles of course," Bagman answered happily. "Hagrid's provided us with a few creatures, and there will be spells that need to be broken... stuff like that. Should be fun after all the other tasks, eh?"
Marik and Harry exchanged worried expressions, both of them having a feeling like they would be seeing Fluffy, Hagrid's giant three-headed dog, again. Fleur saw their expressions and frowned herself, however, Bagman clapped his hands together loudly, preventing her from asking what they were worried about.
"Well, then, if there aren't any questions, lets get back to the castle, shall we?" he asked. "It's a bit cold out here."
Marik turned to try and re-navigate through the hedges once more, when he felt a light tap on his shoulder. He turned... and narrowed his eyes when he saw that it was Krum.
"Could I haff a vord?"
Marik glared at the Bulgarian, before his mouth twisted up in an expression that Harry had never seen before on his face. It was like the challenging smirk he saw on Seto's face when he dueled, mixed together with the demented smirk that appeared on Yami Bakura's face when he was in a particularly psychotic mood. It just did not look right on the Egyptian's face.
"Sure, all right," Marik agreed.
"Vill you valk vith me?"
"Fine," he replied, that strange expression never leaving his face.
Harry and Fleur exchanged concerned looks as the two champions started to leave. Fleur stepped forward slightly, so that she was standing near the edge of one of the hedges.
"Marik, shall we wait for you?" she asked.
"Iie, I'll be fine," Marik called back, the tone in his voice bringing a frown to Harry's face. Fleur turned back to him, biting her lip.
"I am worried," she said. "Zeto told me about 'ow much he hates Krum."
"Don't worry. He won't do anything drastic," Harry assured her, before adding mentally, ~~I hope...~~
~.oOOo.~
Marik Ishitar and Victor Krum stood face to face on a small stretch of ground near the Beauxbaton's horses' paddock. The Bulgarian stood half hidden in the shadow of the trees, while the Egyptian stood out in the open, staring down at him with a glare that would have made Seto proud. This was his true rival, he had no doubt about that; he had never felt such strong feelings of contempt and competition toward one person before, so what else could he be?
"I vant to know," Krum finally said, "vot Hermy-own-ninny means to you."
Marik gave him a hard look. Apparently, he was not as thick as he appeared.
"First of all, her name is Hermione," he replied, his voice cold, "and she means the world to me. Iie, beyond that; the heavens themselves are inferior to her in my eyes."
Krum gave him a critical look, and Marik continued before he could stop himself.
"It's like when she's around," he began, "everything will be fine, just because she is the way she is. Her smile is a sweet kiss of rain on the desert; her eyes a sparkling treasure. Sometimes, it scares me how devoted I am to her." He swallowed, suddenly reminded of the dream that he had had the first night of school. "I would risk my life to have her back," he finished, his voice thick with his determination, "and I would sacrifice my very soul to protect her."
A long pause impregnated the air after Marik finished speaking, the only sound coming from the rustling of the trees in the forbidden forest. Finally, Krum walked up to the Egyptian, a stony expression on his face. Marik braced himself, ready for a punch or some other kind of attack. He was in for a surprise, however; Krum smirked, resting a hand on his shoulder.
"Vy don't you tell her?" he asked.
Marik blinked, caught off guard. He thought for sure he was going to end up with at least a black eye...
"Eh?"
"Vy don't you tell her you feel that vay?" Krum elaborated. "She vould vant to hear someth'ng like that, I am thinking."
Marik blushed bright red, feeling for all the world like an idiot. Geeze, if it was that simple...
Before he could say anything, the Gravekeeper caught sight of some kind of movement over Krum's shoulder. Knowing better than most people at the school what lurked in the forest, he grabbed the Bulgarian's arm and pulled him around. He was about to ask what was wrong, when Marik held up a hand, silently asking him to be quiet. His eyes never left the spot where he had seen movement, as he slipped a hand into his robes and reached for his wand...
Suddenly, a man stumbled out from behind a thick oak tree. He was battered and unshaven, and looked like he had been traveling for days. It seemed almost as if he were talking to someone only he could see, though neither of the boys could make out the words. Marik took a cautious step forward... and his eyes widened in surprise when he saw whom it was.
Bartemius Crouch.
He raced toward the Ministry wizard, Krum right behind him.
"Vosn't he a judge?" he asked when they reached him. "Isn't he vith your Ministry?"
Marik nodded, not bothering to correct him on where "his" Ministry of Magic was. He took another cautious step forward, but Mr. Crouch did not even acknowledge him and continued talking to a nearby tree.
"...and when you've done that, Weatherby, send an owl to Dumbledore confirming the number of Durmstrang student who will be attending the tournament, Karkaroff has just sent word there will be twelve..."
"Crouch-san...?" Marik asked, tilting his head in an attempt to look him in the face.
"...and then send another owl to Madame Maxime, because she might want to up the number of students she's bringing, now Karkaroff's made it a round dozen... do that, Weatherby, will you? Will you? Will..."
Crouch's eyes bulged suddenly. His mouth moved in soundless words as he took a step back, before falling to his knees.
"Crouch-san, are you all right?" Marik ask loudly, alarmed.
"Vot is wrong vith him?" Krum asked, as Crouch's eyes started rolling in his head.
"Haven't a clue," Marik muttered. "Listen, Hagrid's house is just along the edge of the forest. Why don't you -"
"Dumbledore!" Mr. Crouch gasped suddenly, reaching out and grabbing a fist full of Marik's robes, pulling him closer, though his eyes were staring over his head. "I need... see... Dumbledore..."
"Okay," Marik assured him. "If you get up, Crouch-san, I can take you to -"
"I've done... stupid... thing..." Mr. Crouch kept rambling madly. "Must... tell... Dumbledore."
"Just stand up, Crouch-san," Marik urged, trying to tug him to his feet. "Get up, and I'll take you to Dumbledore."
Crouch's eyes rolled down until they were looking directly at Marik. The insane look in his eyes made the Gravekeeper gulp slightly, unnerved.
"Who... you?" he whispered.
"I'm Marik Ishitar, I'm a student at the school," he answered, making sure he spoke clearly to he could understand.
"You're not... HIS?" Crouch asked quietly, his eyes bulging again in fear.
"No..." Marik replied, having no idea what he was talking about.
"Dumbledore's?"
"Yes," he answered.
Crouch pulled him so close they were practically nose-to-nose. Marik tried to loosen his grip, but somehow his insanity seemed to make him unusually strong.
"Warn... Dumbledore..."
"I'll get him if you let go of me," Marik tried to reason with him. "Just let -"
"Thank you, Weatherby, and when you have done that, I would like a cup of tea. My wife and son will be arriving shortly, we are attending a concert tonight with Mr. and Mrs. Fudge."
Crouch had gone talking back to the tree again, leaving Marik so confused that he did not realize he had let go of him until Krum pulled him to his feet.
"Yes, my son has recently gained twelve O.W.L.s, most satisfactory, yes, thank you, yes, very proud indeed. Now, if you could bring me that memo from the Andorran Minister of Magic, I think I will have time to draft a response..."
"Stay here," Marik said to Krum, giving Crouch a doubtful look. "I'll get Dumbledore. It'll be quicker, I know where his office is."
"He is mad," Krum said, staring down at Mr. Crouch, who was talking at the tree like he was absolutely convinced it was Percy.
"Just stay with him," Marik replied, exasperated, turning to leave. This movement seemed to trigger something with Mr. Crouch, however. He seized him about the knees, almost making him fall over.
"Don't... leave... me!" he whispered, his eyes bulging again. "I... escaped... must warn... must tell... see Dumbledore... my fault... all my fault... Bertha... dead... all my fault... my son... my fault... tell Dumbledore... Harry Potter... the Dark Lord... stronger... Harry Potter... dark creature... no face..."
Marik's breath froze in his throat at the last bit, his eyes widening in shock. A dark creature that did not have a face...?
~~When next we meet, we will not share the same face...~~
Marik knelt down till he was eyelevel with Crouch, placing a stern but insistent hand on his shoulder. Crouch seemed to calm slightly at the movement, but his eyes were still bulging.
"Crouch-san, tell me," he said. "This dark creature, the one without a face... did he have a strange manner of speaking? Did he keep calling himself 'oré-sama'?"
Marik did not get a chance to receive an answer. There was a shout of surprise from Krum, and when he turned to see what was wrong, numbness started to spread through his body. He hit the ground painfully, and the last thing he heard, before everything went black, was an intelligible scream from Crouch...
Dawn of Fate
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This chapter took so long not because I was busy, but because it was SO LONG and it still ended up as a cliffhanger. -_-; Hopefully no one will kill me for this...
And, now, a very short Q&A:
insane2seto: Wow, that was 6kb worth of pure nonsense. _ If you're going to review my story, actually review it, and not some crazy story. -.-;;
MillenniumDreamer: -_-;; Just don't point that flamethrower at me.
Rowan Girl: Don't feel bad. The only person who knows what happened to Draco in the last story, other than myself of course, is not talking. ::fingers Baseball Bat of Divine Justice:: And Yami Seto isn't freaky! He's luvable! :3
Yami Yami Yugi: No, he doesn't loose it in my story. And... young lady? I'm twenty, I'm an old fart compaired to most of the people on this website. ;)
Mimiheart: No, playing step on the beetle is Yugi's job. ;)
All right... now, so I can stop recieving the same question again and again. I am a very busy person. I have a job, a webpage, a cat, and a life to maintain. If the fact that sometimes there are three week interludes between updates didn't give you a clue, I AM A VERY BUSY PERSON! Please, please don't ask me to read your story. I'm sure it's very good, but I can barely keep up with the stories I have in my favorites, not to mention read the stories of someone whom I barely know.
Also, a few notes. "Yoriisku" -- which is probably spelled wrong -- means "pleased to meet you". Also, the majority of Crouch's lines near the end of this long chapter were excerpted from the book.
As always, read, enjoy, and review.
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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE - TRUCES AND LETTERS
Yami Yugi dusted his hand off, a satisfied smirk on his face, as he finished off what was to be the prank to end all pranks. If he had calculated right, Yami Bakura would be coming down the stairs from the Hufflepuff common room at any moment for breakfast. Since the tomb robber had an annoying habit of sliding down banisters, he had set up a trip wire at the bottom of the stairs. With any luck, he would trip over the wire and when he landed - if he had gotten it right - a trick charmed rope he had bought from the Weasley twins would tie itself around his legs before hauling him up into the air.
The pharaoh smirked to himself. It would be fun to try and see how long the tomb robber would be dangling there before someone finally had the heart to let him down.
Footfalls from above shook Yami Yugi out of his thoughts. He jumped over the banister to another set of stairs below, staying on that long enough to get a peek of wildly spiked white hair before heading down the staircase.
He did not know what happened next. One minute, he was quietly making his way down the stairs, sniggering softly to himself. Next thing he knew, he was landing on the ground with a painful thud… and then the ground was suddenly several feet below his head as something pulled him up into the air by his feet. Yami Yugi frowned as he dangled in the air, pushing the Millennium Puzzle out of his face; now how the heck did he know...?
There was a yelp from above him, followed by a thud, followed by a yowl of surprise as Yami Bakura landed in his trap. The two of them glared at each other from where they were hanging in the air for a good long moment, before one of them spoke.
"Now how the heck did you know I would be coming this way?" Yami Yugi demanded.
"I didn't," Yami Bakura snapped back. "I was coming down to try and lure you over here. No wonder George said it seemed like these trick ropes were getting really popular."
They continued to glare at each other for a good moment, before the tomb robber's face broke out into a grin.
"I think we should call a truce," he said.
Yami Yugi chuckled, shaking his head. "I think so too," he agreed. "Now, how do we get down?"
"I've got it covered," the tomb robber said, starting to swing back and forth. After a moment, he gained enough momentum to swing up and grab his feet. His deft fingers quickly untied the rope; unfortunately, once the rope was untied, it lost its ability to hover in the air. Yami Bakura landed on the ground with a painful THUD, groaning as the wind was knocked out of him.
Yami Yugi bit back a laugh. "Shit, Bakura. Are you all right?"
The tomb robber leaned his head back far enough to look up at him. "You try it, see how it feels."
"How the heck else am I supposed to be getting down from here?" the pharaoh replied, starting to swing back and forth like Yami Bakura had done.
He had just managed to get a hold of his feet, when a shout and scrambling of feet distracted him. Craning his neck around, he saw the other spirit climbing to his feet before rushing down the stairs. The tomb robber positioned himself under him, in a stance where he could catch him and not end up on the ground again. Yami Yugi just looked at him like he had grown another head.
"What do you think you're doing?" he asked.
Yami Bakura just smirked. "Don't worry, Panseru. I'll catch you."
Yami Yugi raised an eyebrow at the use of his real name. The tomb robber had only used it once in all the time he had known him. Any other time he called him "pharaoh", or "your highness-ness"; all in the most absolute sarcastic tone anyone could pull off. It was a bit... odd, to say the least.
"Well, what are you waiting for?"
Deciding that a sore rear end was not much to stress over if he did not catch him, Yami Yugi started to untie the rope. As soon as the knot was undone, he dropped from the air, only to land in Yami Bakura's outstretched arms, drawing a grunt from said spirit. The tomb robber took a moment to steady his footing - least they both end up on the ground - before dropping the arm that held up the pharaoh's legs, setting him back on the ground again.
"Ano... arigatou," Yami Yugi replied, feeling extremely awkward.
There was a long stretch of uncomfortable silence, with the two of them regarding each other carefully. Finally, the pharaoh nodded to himself, making up his mind. He held out a hand to the tomb robber.
"Boku wa Panseru," he introduced.
Yami Bakura looked at his hand, concern and uncertainty mixing together on his face. After a moment, however, he smirked, reaching out to grip the pharaoh's hand in a handshake.
"Oré wa Bakura," he returned. "Yoriisku."
The two of them grinned at each other, chuckling slightly, before heading off to breakfast in the Great Hall (which they were already late for), chatting idly.
"Yeah, so I thought of this prank to pull on Ecillia."
"Oh...?"
"Hai, but I need some of those Canary Creams from the twins..."
~.oOOo.~
Yugi was munching on a piece of bacon when Ron walked into the Great Hall, looking highly disturbed. He numbly went over to his seat at the Gryffindor table, looking from Yugi, to Draco, to Marik, to Harry, and back to Yugi. When asked what was wrong with him, he shook his head, trying to clear it.
"I saw something really weird down the hallway," he announced.
"What?" Yugi asked.
"Yami Yugi and Yami Bakura... being FRIENDLY."
Harry and Yugi exchanged alarmed looks.
"Hell hath frozen over," the Gravekeeper jibed.
"That's really creepy..." Draco said, nibbling on the corner of his toast.
Just then, the post owls arrived, cutting off any further comments on the subject. Yugi looked up anxiously, as if he were expecting something.
"What's up, Yugi?" Draco asked. "Expecting a letter from Sugoroku?"
"No, not that," Yugi replied. "I got a subscription to the 'Daily Prophet'. I'm getting sick of hearing the news from Ecillia and her thugs."
"Looks like you're in luck," Harry said, as a small gray owl soared toward Yugi. It was not holding a newspaper, however, but a small envelope.
"No, I don't think -"
Yugi cut himself off as, to his bewilderment, the gray owl landed in front of him... followed by four barn owls, a brown owl, and a tawny. Each of the birds had envelopes addressed to him, and they were hopping about, anxious to be the first to deliver their letter. Dumbstruck, Yugi took the one from the gray owl first, opening it up... and frowning deeply.
"Oh, Kami-sama! This is ridiculous!" he exclaimed, passing off the note to Harry. It was not even handwritten; instead, it seemed to have been pasted together from letters from the "Daily Prophet".
You are a WickEd boY. HarRy PotTER desErVes
BeTter. Go back wherE you cAMe from muGgle.
"They're all like this!" Yugi exclaimed, distressed, looking through each of the letters. "'Harry Potter can do much better than the likes of you...' 'You deserve to be boiled in frog spawn...' AH!!!"
Yugi shouted in surprise as he opened the last letter. A yellowish-green liquid smelling like petrol gushed all over his hands. Large, ugly yellow boils erupted in response.
"Undiluted bubotuber pus!" Ron exclaimed as Marik jumped out of his seat, trying vainly to help Yugi wipe the disgusting substance off his hands. Yugi was near tears from the effort, his hands now so thickly covered in sores, it looked like he was wearing a rough pair of gloves.
The Gravekeeper helped him stand up, before leading him out of the Great Hall, trying to keep his hands covered. They encountered Yami Bakura and Yami Yugi just as they were to leave the hall. Words were exchanged, before the pharaoh put an arm around his hikari to lead him out, and Marik and the other spirit came back to the Gryffindor table.
"The pharaoh's pissed," Marik announced, sitting back down.
"What the hell happened?" Yami Bakura demanded, picking up one of the letters.
"Fan mail," Draco replied dully.
Yami Bakura frowned, before reading aloud, "'I read in 'Witch Weekly' about how you are playing Harry Potter false and that boy has had enough hardship and I will be sending you a curse by next post as soon as I find a big enough envelope.' Damn. Who'd he piss off?"
"Rita Skeeter," the Gryffindor boys replied.
Marik shook his head. "I tried to warn him this would happen. Though... now I don't know who I feel sorry for."
"What do you mean, Marik?" Harry asked.
Marik smiled ruefully. "I mean, I don't know if I feel sorry for Yugi for having to put up with this... or if I'll feel sorry for Rita when Yugi gets his hands on her."
~.oOOo.~
Yami Bakura glanced over his shoulder at his hikari, who was sleeping soundly next to him on the bed they shared. He had a gentle, peaceful look on his face, as if nothing in the world could bother him at that moment. The tomb robber just wished he could feel the same way. Something was tugging at the back of his mind however, something that he should have taken care of already.
What was behind the Door...?
Frowning to himself, he slipped silently back into his Soul Room, shuddering out of reflex as the unfelt breezes of Kuru Eruna at night blew soundlessly. He approached the Door in question, the sand tickling his bare feet slightly. A long moment passed where he just stood there, staring at the door that had led him to be consumed by so much hate and so much despair, both in his past life and in this one.
He had made friends with the pharaoh. The people of his village would be ashamed of him…
Or would they? How could he even know? All that misguided hate... and he ended up being manipulated by the two people whom he and his spirit beast should have been fighting against in the first place.
Not the pharaoh.
The pharaoh was never an enemy, but an ally.
Gritting his teeth, Yami Bakura's hand shot out, grabbing a hold of the handle to the other Door in his Soul Room, the one that led to a Soul Room that only his consciousness was connected to. Before he could loose his nerve, he threw the Door open...
There was no Room, nothing... not even "nothing". On the other side of the Door, he could only see the sand dunes beyond, what he would have seen if he walked around the Door. Before he could even figure out how this could be, the handle to the Door disappeared from his hands. He turned to look in surprise, just as the doorframe vanished as well, leaving only the Door itself behind. Feeling emboldened, he pushed at the Door, making it fall over... only to watch it as it vanished before it even hit the sand.
Yami Bakura stood there, staring at the door for a long, thoughtful minute. Suddenly, he did something he had not done in a long time.
He smiled.
It was not an evil smile. It was not an "I'm better than you and you know it" smile. It was a soft, gentle smile. It was something he had not done for thousands of lifetimes... and it felt good to be able to do it again.
"Sayonara, Akunadin," he whispered. "Sayonara, Zork Necrophadisu."
~.oOOo.~
The start of the summer term usually meant that Harry and Marik would be working extra hard during Quidditch practices. Instead of their favorite sport, however, they were preoccupied with the third task of the Triwizard Tournament. The only problem? They still had no idea as to what the task was going to entail. Even asking Fleur got them no where, as she did not know either, and neither of them were about to ask Krum, ESPECIALLY Marik.
Then, at the end of May, Professor McGonagall held the two boys after class to tell them that they had to go to the Quidditch field at nine to learn about the final task. The two of them ended up actually leaving the castle at half past eight, anxious to finally see what exactly they would be doing.
"What d'ya think we'll have to do?" Marik asked as they walked along the dark lawn. "Fleur was saying at dinner that she thinks it might have to do with some kind of treasure."
"That'll be easy," Harry commented. "I'll just ask Hagrid for one of those nifflers."
Marik smirked. "Either way, I'll just use the Ring," he said, patting the Item against his chest. "Talk about a universal tracking device. Check this out."
The two of them paused just as they were about to enter the stadium. Marik held up the Ring so that the points were dangling toward the ground.
"Harry," he said.
Two of the points responded immediately, glowing as they came up and pointed to Harry, who was standing on his right.
"Quidditch field."
The two points that had been pointing to Harry dulled and dropped, just as the center point glowed to life and pointed at the Quidditch field before them.
"Forbidden forest."
As before, the center point dulled and fell, and the left two points came to life to point at the forbidden forest. Marik grinned as he set the Item back against his chest, the two points also coming to a rest. Harry nodded his head, impressed.
"It seems like you've really gotten the hang of that thing," he complimented.
"Well, I still have some things to work out," the Gravekeeper admitted. "I still can't think of something, and expect the points to respond. I'll have to ask the tomb robber how he managed it. Anyway..."
The two of them entered the Quidditch field... only to find that the field was no longer smooth and flat like they remembered it. It looked as if someone had built a series of crisscrossing miniature walls all over the place. Further inspection proved that the "walls" were really hedges still in the process of being grown. Marik looked scandalized; how dare someone mess with their precious field!
"Ah, gentlemen!" Ludo Bagman called from where he was standing in the center with Fleur and Krum. The two of them went to join them slowly, careful not to step on any of the hedges.
"So, what do you think?" he asked as the two of them cleared the last hedge. "Growing nicely, eh? Give them a month, and Hagrid will have them twenty feet tall. Now, don't panic," he added, seeing the stricken looks on Harry and Marik's faces, "you'll have your Quidditch field back to normal as soon as the task is over. Now, can either of you guess what'll be happening here?"
There was silence, before...
"Maze," Krum grunted.
"Exactly!" Bagman exclaimed. "The final task is really quite straightforward. The Triwizard Cup will be placed here, in the center. The champion who navigates the maze and captures the Cup will receive full marks for the event."
"We seemply 'ave to get through ze maze?" Fleur asked.
"Well, there will be obstacles of course," Bagman answered happily. "Hagrid's provided us with a few creatures, and there will be spells that need to be broken... stuff like that. Should be fun after all the other tasks, eh?"
Marik and Harry exchanged worried expressions, both of them having a feeling like they would be seeing Fluffy, Hagrid's giant three-headed dog, again. Fleur saw their expressions and frowned herself, however, Bagman clapped his hands together loudly, preventing her from asking what they were worried about.
"Well, then, if there aren't any questions, lets get back to the castle, shall we?" he asked. "It's a bit cold out here."
Marik turned to try and re-navigate through the hedges once more, when he felt a light tap on his shoulder. He turned... and narrowed his eyes when he saw that it was Krum.
"Could I haff a vord?"
Marik glared at the Bulgarian, before his mouth twisted up in an expression that Harry had never seen before on his face. It was like the challenging smirk he saw on Seto's face when he dueled, mixed together with the demented smirk that appeared on Yami Bakura's face when he was in a particularly psychotic mood. It just did not look right on the Egyptian's face.
"Sure, all right," Marik agreed.
"Vill you valk vith me?"
"Fine," he replied, that strange expression never leaving his face.
Harry and Fleur exchanged concerned looks as the two champions started to leave. Fleur stepped forward slightly, so that she was standing near the edge of one of the hedges.
"Marik, shall we wait for you?" she asked.
"Iie, I'll be fine," Marik called back, the tone in his voice bringing a frown to Harry's face. Fleur turned back to him, biting her lip.
"I am worried," she said. "Zeto told me about 'ow much he hates Krum."
"Don't worry. He won't do anything drastic," Harry assured her, before adding mentally, ~~I hope...~~
~.oOOo.~
Marik Ishitar and Victor Krum stood face to face on a small stretch of ground near the Beauxbaton's horses' paddock. The Bulgarian stood half hidden in the shadow of the trees, while the Egyptian stood out in the open, staring down at him with a glare that would have made Seto proud. This was his true rival, he had no doubt about that; he had never felt such strong feelings of contempt and competition toward one person before, so what else could he be?
"I vant to know," Krum finally said, "vot Hermy-own-ninny means to you."
Marik gave him a hard look. Apparently, he was not as thick as he appeared.
"First of all, her name is Hermione," he replied, his voice cold, "and she means the world to me. Iie, beyond that; the heavens themselves are inferior to her in my eyes."
Krum gave him a critical look, and Marik continued before he could stop himself.
"It's like when she's around," he began, "everything will be fine, just because she is the way she is. Her smile is a sweet kiss of rain on the desert; her eyes a sparkling treasure. Sometimes, it scares me how devoted I am to her." He swallowed, suddenly reminded of the dream that he had had the first night of school. "I would risk my life to have her back," he finished, his voice thick with his determination, "and I would sacrifice my very soul to protect her."
A long pause impregnated the air after Marik finished speaking, the only sound coming from the rustling of the trees in the forbidden forest. Finally, Krum walked up to the Egyptian, a stony expression on his face. Marik braced himself, ready for a punch or some other kind of attack. He was in for a surprise, however; Krum smirked, resting a hand on his shoulder.
"Vy don't you tell her?" he asked.
Marik blinked, caught off guard. He thought for sure he was going to end up with at least a black eye...
"Eh?"
"Vy don't you tell her you feel that vay?" Krum elaborated. "She vould vant to hear someth'ng like that, I am thinking."
Marik blushed bright red, feeling for all the world like an idiot. Geeze, if it was that simple...
Before he could say anything, the Gravekeeper caught sight of some kind of movement over Krum's shoulder. Knowing better than most people at the school what lurked in the forest, he grabbed the Bulgarian's arm and pulled him around. He was about to ask what was wrong, when Marik held up a hand, silently asking him to be quiet. His eyes never left the spot where he had seen movement, as he slipped a hand into his robes and reached for his wand...
Suddenly, a man stumbled out from behind a thick oak tree. He was battered and unshaven, and looked like he had been traveling for days. It seemed almost as if he were talking to someone only he could see, though neither of the boys could make out the words. Marik took a cautious step forward... and his eyes widened in surprise when he saw whom it was.
Bartemius Crouch.
He raced toward the Ministry wizard, Krum right behind him.
"Vosn't he a judge?" he asked when they reached him. "Isn't he vith your Ministry?"
Marik nodded, not bothering to correct him on where "his" Ministry of Magic was. He took another cautious step forward, but Mr. Crouch did not even acknowledge him and continued talking to a nearby tree.
"...and when you've done that, Weatherby, send an owl to Dumbledore confirming the number of Durmstrang student who will be attending the tournament, Karkaroff has just sent word there will be twelve..."
"Crouch-san...?" Marik asked, tilting his head in an attempt to look him in the face.
"...and then send another owl to Madame Maxime, because she might want to up the number of students she's bringing, now Karkaroff's made it a round dozen... do that, Weatherby, will you? Will you? Will..."
Crouch's eyes bulged suddenly. His mouth moved in soundless words as he took a step back, before falling to his knees.
"Crouch-san, are you all right?" Marik ask loudly, alarmed.
"Vot is wrong vith him?" Krum asked, as Crouch's eyes started rolling in his head.
"Haven't a clue," Marik muttered. "Listen, Hagrid's house is just along the edge of the forest. Why don't you -"
"Dumbledore!" Mr. Crouch gasped suddenly, reaching out and grabbing a fist full of Marik's robes, pulling him closer, though his eyes were staring over his head. "I need... see... Dumbledore..."
"Okay," Marik assured him. "If you get up, Crouch-san, I can take you to -"
"I've done... stupid... thing..." Mr. Crouch kept rambling madly. "Must... tell... Dumbledore."
"Just stand up, Crouch-san," Marik urged, trying to tug him to his feet. "Get up, and I'll take you to Dumbledore."
Crouch's eyes rolled down until they were looking directly at Marik. The insane look in his eyes made the Gravekeeper gulp slightly, unnerved.
"Who... you?" he whispered.
"I'm Marik Ishitar, I'm a student at the school," he answered, making sure he spoke clearly to he could understand.
"You're not... HIS?" Crouch asked quietly, his eyes bulging again in fear.
"No..." Marik replied, having no idea what he was talking about.
"Dumbledore's?"
"Yes," he answered.
Crouch pulled him so close they were practically nose-to-nose. Marik tried to loosen his grip, but somehow his insanity seemed to make him unusually strong.
"Warn... Dumbledore..."
"I'll get him if you let go of me," Marik tried to reason with him. "Just let -"
"Thank you, Weatherby, and when you have done that, I would like a cup of tea. My wife and son will be arriving shortly, we are attending a concert tonight with Mr. and Mrs. Fudge."
Crouch had gone talking back to the tree again, leaving Marik so confused that he did not realize he had let go of him until Krum pulled him to his feet.
"Yes, my son has recently gained twelve O.W.L.s, most satisfactory, yes, thank you, yes, very proud indeed. Now, if you could bring me that memo from the Andorran Minister of Magic, I think I will have time to draft a response..."
"Stay here," Marik said to Krum, giving Crouch a doubtful look. "I'll get Dumbledore. It'll be quicker, I know where his office is."
"He is mad," Krum said, staring down at Mr. Crouch, who was talking at the tree like he was absolutely convinced it was Percy.
"Just stay with him," Marik replied, exasperated, turning to leave. This movement seemed to trigger something with Mr. Crouch, however. He seized him about the knees, almost making him fall over.
"Don't... leave... me!" he whispered, his eyes bulging again. "I... escaped... must warn... must tell... see Dumbledore... my fault... all my fault... Bertha... dead... all my fault... my son... my fault... tell Dumbledore... Harry Potter... the Dark Lord... stronger... Harry Potter... dark creature... no face..."
Marik's breath froze in his throat at the last bit, his eyes widening in shock. A dark creature that did not have a face...?
~~When next we meet, we will not share the same face...~~
Marik knelt down till he was eyelevel with Crouch, placing a stern but insistent hand on his shoulder. Crouch seemed to calm slightly at the movement, but his eyes were still bulging.
"Crouch-san, tell me," he said. "This dark creature, the one without a face... did he have a strange manner of speaking? Did he keep calling himself 'oré-sama'?"
Marik did not get a chance to receive an answer. There was a shout of surprise from Krum, and when he turned to see what was wrong, numbness started to spread through his body. He hit the ground painfully, and the last thing he heard, before everything went black, was an intelligible scream from Crouch...