Chapter Two

Three weeks later, Hogwarts Castle

"They've done what?" Harry asked, shaking the water fom his hair. It was pouring outside, the rain lashing at the windowpanes in a fury, and the students huddled together in the hall, dripping dismally and conversing among themselves.

"They've moved the feast to tomorrow." Hermione looked rather upset at this, and her stomach growled loudly.

"Why? Has anyone said?"

"No," Hermione said. "We're to go to our common rooms and eat there."

They couldn't remember a time that the welcoming feast had been postponed, and it was logical that everyone was worried. They'd seen a processional of Ministry of Magic employees file into the castle earlier, with the round Minister clutching his bowler hat in an attempt to keep it fom escaping in the storm.

"Come on now, everyone leave your trunks here, get a move on!" Professor McGonagall, head of Gryffindor House snapped. "You'll get your feast tomorrow!"

"Professor," Hermione said. "What's happening?"

"Ministry of Magic," McGonagall said wearily. "They're still trying to evict Dumbledore—Mister Malfoy, if you so much as lay a wand on Longbottom-- !"

And she stalked off.

"Evict Dumbledore?" Ron said shakily. "D'you reckon it's got anything to do with--?"

"Yeah," Harry muttered. "They still won't accept that Voldemort's back."

"Idiots," Hermione began when the doors to the great hall slammed open and the Ministry employees they'd seen earlier stormed out, trying to look dignified even though Fudge fairly burned with anger at the head of the line.

"A pleasure as always," Dumbledore said from his seat in the hall. "Everyone, do come in. I apologize for the delay—"

The rest of his apology was drowned out by the resounding cheer; everyone was hungry.

"So," Ron said, through a mouthful of food, "Who d'you reckon is our DADA teacher?"

"Dunno," Harry said, swallowing a bit of steak. "I'm hoping not another crazed maniac."

Hermione cast a glance up at the staff table, noting that the DADA seat was empty. "Whoever it is, they're not here yet."

"Who's that bloke?" Seamus Finnigan poked Harry with his fork and gestured to what Harry had taken for a sodden, discarded cloak thrown on the table. Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be a person in black robes, asleep with his head on the table.

"I dunno—"Harry broke off as another, shorter man sat down in the chair next to the lump. "Hey! Ron, Hermione, look who it is!"

"Blimey," Ron said. "Isn't that Yuugi?"

Yuugi had spotted them as well, and waved cheerily, prodding the lump next to him. Yami said up, yawning, and pushed back his hood. When he saw who Yuugi was gesturing to, he gave them an adknowledging nod and went back to sleep.

"Ooh, you know him?" Pavarti Patil squealed happily. "He's adorable!"

"Who? Yami?" Ron looked nauseated.

"Students, Romans, countrymen and women, and anyone else who wants to listen," Dumbledore began, "welcome to another year at Hogwarts."

Fred and George began singing the school song loudly, and Dumbledore smiled at them before continuing.

"There are some new faces here at the staff table, if you'll notice. Allow me to introduce Professors Yuugi Motou and Yami. They're from Japan, and Yami wishes me to remind you that they do understand English perfectly."

Yuugi kicked Yami in the shin. They both stood up, Yami glaring slightly at Yuugi.

"They'll be teaching Martial Magic to fifth years and above, seeing as our previous Martial Magic teacher has retired to a more peaceful has it that he's moved to America." There was an appreciative amount of laughter at this.

"What's Martial Magic?" Harry asked.

"Fighting magic," Hermione said, frowning slightly. "But...I don't sense any magical ability from Professor Motou..."

"And of course, the ever-changing Defense Against the Dark Arts position ..." Dumbledore glanced at the still-empty seat. "Apparently your new teacher hasn't arrived yet ... "

The door slammed open and every head in the Hall swivled to look at the figures sihlouetted in the doorway.

"Sorry ... we're ... late ... Professor ... "

Yuugi sat up straight. "Ryou-kun?"

Ryou grinned at Yuugi. "Aa! Oi, Yuugi-kun!" (Yeah! Hey, Yuugi!)

Bakura gave the pharaoh an adknowledging sneer. Ryou, however, overjoyed at seeing a familiar face after two days with Bakura on an airplane, bounded up the stairs leading to the staff table and flung himself at Yuugi, hugging both him and Yami, babbling the whole time in Japanese.

Dumbledore looked somewhat amused, and everyone else in the room was staring blankly at them, save for Snape, who was glaring venemously at the child who'd beaten him to the Defense Against the Dark Arts position.

"Ah ... Professors Bakura and Motou?" Dumbledore said mildly. "Pardon the interruption, but I'm afraid we're quite unable to understand you."

"Oh, of course," Ryou said in deliberately accented English, bowing to the headmaster. "My apologies."

"Ooh, he's even cuter than the last one!" Lavender Brown giggled.

Ron shook his head at her. "There's four of them, genius."

"Oh, but the taller one with the different coloured hair—"

"Yami," Harry supplied.

"—is so much more handsome than the short one!"

"He is not! Pavarati argued. "Professor Motou's adorable!"

"No, the short white-haired one's cuter!"

"I rather like the tall, white-haired one," George interrupted in a falsetto tone, elicting laughter from the Gryffindors not oohing and aahing over their new professors.

"Students, these are Professors Ryou Bakura and ... ah ... Bakura?" Dumbledore said.

"Call me Ryou, please. He's Bakura." The hikari smiled, and the girls in the room squealed. Ryou didn't bat an eye; he was used to fangirls, European or Japanese.

They're looking at you, hikari,Bakura grumbled unhappily.

/They're just girls./

If they touch you, I'll kill them.

"Professors Ryou and Bakura," Dumbledore corrected.

"Why do you look the same?" a first-year Hufflepuff spoke up.

Fred and George exchanged incredulous looks. "Bloody idiot," George said. "Six years here, and it still hasn't sunk in!"

"Yeah, are you twins?" Lee Jordan asked.

"Well ... no," Yuugi said. "Actually, none of us are related."

This statement was followed with dead silence. Even Dumbledore sat down and motioned for them to continue.

"Wonderful, Yuugi," Bakura snarled. "How are you going to explain this one?"

"They're ancient Egyptian spirits. They preserved their souls in these," he motioned to his Puzzle and Ryou's Ring, "and we sort of ... I dunno ... set them free?"

"They don't believe us," Ryou said.

"Ancient Egyptian spirits?" Draco Malfoy laughed. "You're delusional, the lot of you."

Bakura tensed, gritting his teeth. "Oh, please," he hissed to Ryou, who had a death grip on his yami's arm. "Five minutes in the Shadow Realm and that bastard would be begging for your forgiveness."

"No. Banishing. People. To. The. Shadow. Realm." Ryou said firmly. Bakura's eyes narrowed at being ordered about by his hikari, but he made no move towards Malfoy.

"I can assure you, Mr. Malfoy, that your new professors are far from delusional. Bakura and Yami are indeed Egyptian spirits. Yami was actually Pharaoh Atem, I believe?" Yami nodded modestly.

Yuugi had been expecting more blank stares, but a murmer began to worm its way around the hall, most of the students nodding as they heard the name. "Wait, they know who that is?" Yuugi asked.

"Well, of course they do," Professor Binns spoke up. "At least, they should if they paid attention in my class."

"Oh, good," Yuugi heard Ron say brightly. "That explains why I've never heard of him."

"So what are you?" Malfoy asked Bakura.

"Not very fond of nosy children," Bakura snapped. The Gryffindors all laughed as Malfoy's pale cheeks pinkened somewhat.

"He was a tomb robber," Ryou answered, giving Bakura a Look.

"Of course!" Hermione said excitedly. "The King of Thieves Bakura, who sold his soul to Zoru Necopheriadasu, the previous resident of the Sennen Ring! Atem sacrificed himself to destroy Bakura, with the end result that they were both bonded to the Sennen Ring and Puzzle, sealed away until the Items were discovered!"

"Someone's done her homework," Yuugi said, looking impressed.

"Thank you, Miss Granger, for that lovely history lesson."

"I didn't sell him my soul, he took it," Bakura growled.

"You have any idea what she just said?" Ron asked.

"Nope," Harry replied.

"Oh, honestly," Hermione said. "You two are so dense!"

"This is ... charming," Yuugi said, looking around his new room, trying not to laugh.

It was furnished in a very traditional Japanese style, complete with tatami mats covering the floor, walls made of paper screens, and two plush-looking futons laid out on the floor. A small table in the corner sat low to the floor, with a few cushions surrounding it. Yuugi slid open one of the doors to find a small flower garden shadowed by a half-grown sakura tree. Although Yuugi was sure that it wasn't the right time of year, it was in full bloom, and as he stood staring up at it a pink-veined petal drifted onto his hair. Yami plucked it off of his head, twirling it between his fingers.

"Professor Motou does not like?"

"Oh, no, it's not that. I just—"Yuugi laughed. "What did you say your name was again?"

"Dobby, sir." The weird-looking bat-eared creature bowed.

"No, Dobby, I like it. I really do."

"Through that door, sirs, is Pharaoh Atem's room."

Yami blinked. "We've got separate rooms?"

"Yes, Pharaoh Atem."

Yami shuddered. "Call me Yami, please. I'm not royalty anymore."

"Pharaoh Yami is too kind."

Yami sighed.

"Hey, Yami, your room is pretty cool."

Yuugi had opened the door, revealing a room with a high-arched ceiling, supported by fluted columns in the ancient Egyptian style. Hiroglyphics and paintings covered the walls, and the bed was hung with gold cloth. Yami arched an eyebrow. "You know, I never had my own pyramid ... this is kind of nice."

"Okay, that's morbid," Yuugi said, closing the door. "You want a pyramid now?"

Yami shrugged. "Egyptians spend their lives preparing for the afterlife. It's not morbid to them."

"Yeah, but I'm just a modest Japanese schoolteacher," Yuugi said, shivering at the thought of his yami's corpse entombed in a pyramid, all alone for eternity. "And it kind of creeps me out."

Yami slid an arm around Yuugi's waist. "No more talk of death," he said, smiling down at his lighter half. "I promise."

"Will sirs be needing anything else?" Dobby shifted from foot to foot, looking extremely uncomfortable. Yuugi cleared his throat and Yami stepped away, the barest hint of a blush blooming on his cheeks.

"No, Dobby, thank you." Yuugi bowed respectfully to the house-elf. "You've been a great help."

Dobby looked even more alarmed at Yuugi's polite response. "Dobby must go, sirs!" he cried, fleeing the room.

Yuugi arched an eyebrow in an unconscious imitation of his Yami. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, sir, it's just the way house-elves are."

Yuugi jumped, whirling to face the doorway. "Oh, Harry, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir," the black-haired boy said, smiling. "Professor Dumbledore wanted me to give you this. It's your schedule, I think."

Yuugi took the parchment and scanned it quickly. "What do these colours mean?"

"They're to tell you what House you're teaching at what time."

"Which is which?"

"Red's Gryffindor—that's my House, sir—green's Slytherin, yellow's Hufflepuff, and blue's Ravenclaw."

"I see," Yuugi lied. What was a House? He was completely unused to European schools, having been born and raised in Japan.

"Can I ask you something, sir?"

Yuugi smiled at the boy. "Please, call me Yuugi. 'Sir' makes me nervous."

Harry grinned at him. Finally, a teacher he might actually like. "Do you know Professor Ryou?"

"Yes, we've been friends for many years."

"And Professor Bakura ... he's actually the King of Thieves?"

Yami snorted. "Of course he is. Five thousand years, and he still annoys the hell out of me."

"Harry, I need you to do me a favour," Yuugi said, grasping the boy's shoulder."

"What is it, si—Yuugi?"

"I'm going to be very busy with classes, it seems, and I need you to keep an eye on Professor Ryou."

"What do you mean, sir?" Yuugi didn't bother to correct him.

"Any bruises, cuts, unexplained abscenses, or Bakura causing a—er, scene, I need you to find me immediately and report it. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Yuugi."

"Yes, Yuugi."

"Good." Yuugi smiled. "I'll see you Thursday, then."

Aibou, you're meddling again.

/I'm just trying to help Ryou./

I doubt Bakura's going to appreciate that.

/I don't care./

"Where is he?"

"Has anyone seen him today?"

"He wasn't at breakfast—"

"—Or lunch—"

"I'm sure he'll be here," Hermione said loudly, thought she was getting a bit worried. "He will, won't he? I mean, to miss his first lesson—"

Harry exchanged a smirking glance with Ron; they both knew that Hermione considered missing a lesson a crime punishable by death.

"Dammit, ahou!"

The class collectively turned in the direction of the thudding footsteps and the booming voice. "I have class to teach," a voice said quietly.

"That doesn't mean I have to go with you."

"I didn't ask you to. Let go, that hurts." The softer voice sounded scared. "Please let go of me."

"How else am I to keep you from running away from me again?"

"I wasn't—oww! Bakura!"

A loud slap resounded, echoing in the near-empty halls. "What?"

"B—Bakura-sama—gomen nasai gozaimasu—"

"Professor Ryou?" Hermione asked, taking a step forward.

"Hello," Ryou said, managing an awkward smile. Bakura had a death grip on his snowy locks and was dragging him along, jerking them every so often. "Bakura, will you let go! I have to teach!"

Bakura complied, though he did so with a bitter glare and some select four- letter words. "I'm sorry I'm late," Ryou said smilingly. "I'll try to compress today's lesson so that you won't be late for dinner."

"Professor Ryou," Harry said quietly as Ryou unlocked the classroom door and let them all inside. "What happened to you?"

Ryou blinked at him. "Nani?"

"You look awful, if you don't mind my saying so, sir."

"Of course not," Ryou said, gingerly prodding his swollen eye. "I'm afraid I'm rather clumsy—I walked into my own wardrobe."

Harry narrowed a skeptical eye at his professor, but chose not to comment. He filed into the classroom after Ron. "Good evening, class," Ryou said, taking his place behind the desk. "Wands away, if you would?"

The class exchanged horrified glances: surely this soft-spoken Japanese man wasn't another Umbridge? "Relax, I'd jut like to take this first lesson to get to know a bit about all of you."

Bakura mumbled something in Japanese, pulled a wicked-looking dagger from the inside of his cloak, and began to toss it in the air and catch it. Pavarti Patil, who had the seat next to the antisocial yami, flinched every time the dagger arced downward, clearly afraid that it would hit her.

"Why doesn't Professor Ryou tell him to stop it?" Hermione whispered.

"It seems to me like Professor Ryou doesn't tell Professor Bakura to do anything," Harry said. "Did you see that black eye?"

Hermione gasped. "You don't think Professor Bakura did that?"

Harry shrugged. "Don't you?"

"Is there a problem?" Harry jumped and Hermione screamed. Bakura's face had suddenly appeared not three inches from theirs, startling both of them.

"N—no, sir," Hermione stammered. Bakura snorted.

"It's none of your business how I treat my hikari—"Bakura began, but was cut off by Ryou.

"Bakura. Could I see you outside for a moment?" Ryou grabbed his yami's sleeve and pulled him out into the hallway. The class buzzed for a few seconds before they realized that they could clearly hear the conversation.

"—and terrorizing students hardly makes a good first impression, Bakura- sama."

"I am not terrorizing them, ahou," Bakura snapped. Harry and Ron turned to Hermione for the definition of the unfamiliar word.

"Fool," she whispered.

"It's none of their business."

"Yes, well, perhaps they're right. I can't teach them properly if I'm constantly worrying about you."

"Worrying about—"Bakura laughed. "All you have to worry about, hikari, is staying the hell out of my way."

"If anything goes missing—"

"I'm a tomb robber, you idiot. I steal things. It's a cute little hobby of mine."

"I'm going to go check on them," Harry whispered, pulling the shimmering folds of his Invisibility Cloak from his bag. "Professor Yuugi asked me to watch out for Professor Ryou."

"Be careful," Hermione advised. "Professor Bakura doesn't seem to be the most sane person in the world."

Harry grinned and disappeared under the Cloak.

"Look, Bakura, I need this job, and I am NOT letting you screw it up for me!"

Bakura growled and slammed Ryou's head into the wall. "You picked a wonderful time to grow a backbone, hikari!" Another slam. "You don't tell me what to do! You can't control me!"

Harry watched, aghast, unsure of whether or not to intervene.

"Shouldn't it work the same way for me?" Ryou spat.

Bakura roared an expletive in Japanese and hurled Ryou across the hall with a strength that Harry never would have guessed he had concealed in his lithe body. "How dare you talk that way to me!"

Harry winced when he heard Ryou hit the wall with a loud crack. "Professor!" he cried, running toward the wounded man. He forgot about staying hidden forgot about Professor Bakura's temper, forgot about how much trouble he could get in for spying on teachers. All he could see was Ryou's broken body and the blood pooling around his head.

Ryou half-opened bleary eyes. "Potter?"

"Professor, are you—I'll get Madame Pomfrey—"

"No!" Ryou gripped his arm tight, his eyes suddenly alight with panic. "No, I'll be—"

"Professor?" Harry shook him. "Professor?"

"He's unconscious, you idiot."

Harry gulped and glanced up into angry crimson eyes.