AN - Lalalalala, enjoy my pretties.
Oh, and since ff.net went bonkers again, here are some new format changes:
Thoughts.
:Yami Thoughts:
::Unknown Thoughts::
Yeah, kinda wierd Ah well (le sigh)
"Are we almost done yet?" Yuugi slumped tragically over the multitude of books strewn in front of him. His face lay on an ancient page explaining the complexities and theories behind some sort of spell to clean your toes . . . and he was quite proud of the fact that he didn't care in the slightest.
His eyelids fluttered closed as a semi-physical presence shuffled up beside him, sighing exasperatedly.
"We actually haven't made any progress yet." Yami intoned for at least the tenth time. They were both weary of fruitless research through endless texts regarding things that they would probably never understand. These westerners were disgustingly concerned in how their magic worked, no matter how slight the spell, rather than actually performing the useless tricks.
But the vexation of the split soul was more focused on their useless little escapade--and the lack of results for the fourth day of searching alone.
They had spend hours upon hours in the otherwise deserted library of which Hogwarts seemed to boast about so assuredly. Of course, it might have just been the oddly pale, constantly shaking librarian who boldly bragged that they could find anything in the massive collection of books . . . if they looked hard enough.
So far, they had only discovered a single mention of the Millennium Items, in a book entitled "Ancient Magical Myths" by C. McAver. And there was absolutely NOTHING regarding the pharaoh's magic.
:Come to think of it:,Yami thought moodily :nearly everything in that Ra-be-damned text was fictional anyway.:
"I don't know why we're doing this." Yuugi mumbled into ink-stained parchment "How do we even know that we'll find anything here."
"We don't." Yami responded.
They both sniffed in disdain.
"Oh honestly!" a voice called from somewhere behind a nearby bookcase, and they both jumped in surprise. "Stop complaining! Dumbledore told us to look, so we will . . . "
Yami turned a passive countenance to the frazzled-looking woman who stepped out, trying to balance several thick books under one arm while adjusting her thick glasses at the same time. A few stray tendrils of untidy semi- blonde hair hung down stubbornly across her face, tickling her nose enough that her face was alternating between a stern expression, and scrunching up her nose to shake off her split ends.
She finally dropped all but one book onto the table with a resounding smack, forcing Yuugi to raise his head and glare at her.
". . . Besides," she placed her free arm on one hip and looked at them sternly "I doubt you--err, two, have anything better to do."
"How about sleep." The Hikari yawned hugely.
"Sleep is overrated."
"Bah." His head once again collapsed onto the table, and he looked to have no intention of raising his head from the book in the near future.
"The ink's going to rub off on your face." She pointed out.
". . . Don't care . . . " he mumbled, absolutely exhausted.
The woman noted his weariness with a suddenly reproachful look. She bit her lip.
"Did you find anything, Professor?" even the ordinarily-deadpan Yami was expressing exhaustion in his smooth tone.
She responded by placing a high-heeled foot upon the surface of a chair, and then heaving the overlarge book guilty of a majority of her attentions onto her poised knee. "I guess we'll see."
Yami Yuugi quietly set himself down on a chair next to Yuugi, aware that his energy would be better wasted in research rather than standing over an extended amount of time. His lips tightened as he surveyed his Hikari, who was genuinely drained. With a sudden jolt of understanding, and a slight blush, he realized that his continued physical presence was probably what was taking up a great deal of his other half's energy.
Don't disappear. Yuugi sent to him abruptly. He figured the slight unease in that mind-voice, and knew he could never refuse.
:Alright.:
The ever-studious Professor Olive Vector flipped through yellow, age- stained pages and scanned each with swift eyes darting over every word with comprehending precision. After a few minutes of watching her magnified eyes shift and strain to the cramped handwriting over the thick pages, even Yami put his head down.
The windows allowed in a generous portion of the midsummer brightness, and besides making the entire room a bit too hot for ordinary standards, the light drifted lazily over dusty, cloth-covered bookcases with an eerie consistency that gave the impression of something slightly amiss.
It was an uncomfortable place, he shivered involuntarily and glanced back over to their female companion.
Who was already staring at him impatiently, her head cocked to the side.
If Yami had been any more conscious at that moment, he would have jumped out of his chair in surprise.
"Millennium Items . . . hmm?" she drawled knowingly.
His eyebrows furrowed. "We've gone through this already."
She awarded him another sniff and a disgruntled huff for his lack of patience. She wanted to be sure of course. She was the best arithmancy professor Hogwarts had ever had, after being the very best student Hogwarts had ever had--though her record test scores were slowly being bested by the now- seventh-year Hermione Granger. Olive chuckled secretly to herself at the thought of the no-nonsense young woman who would almost surely land a high spot in the Ministry, someday.
"Did you find anything?" he tried again, voiced with increased volume and increased annoyance.
"Of course I did!" she snapped moodily.
Yuugi's head snapped up suddenly from the books, and she noted both sets of overlarge violet eyes gazing at her in sudden awareness with a rush of content at her overall genius. The twin-like apparitions took the ancient book from her hands as one, triumph allowing them to take it easily as she smirked and basked in her personal wisdom.
"I already read it." She clarified loftily.
It didn't take them long after her comment to realize that the entire book was written in archaic and twisted Latin, and that they had no hope of deciphering the tiny writing quite so immediately.
The disgruntled jingle of Yuugi's bulky and bizarre necklace echoed oddly throughout the spacious library. They somehow managed to stare at each other all at the same time for a few moments, before the sorely serious Yami Yuugi broke the silence with another dreadfully logical comment.
"Well?" the tanned 'boy' licked his lips.
She settled for biting her lower lip, contorting her face into a thoughtful expression.
"We-e-e-e-e-e-e-ell, I suppose it would make sense . . . much of the world works in great forms . . . the companions the seconds . . . " she muttered absently under her breath.
"What?!"
"Oh!" she turned her round eyes upon them immediately, flushing a little in the cheeks from her wandering mind "I guess the main thing is . . . the 'coven'." She flipped through a few pages experimentally.
Yuugi's eyes furrowed in a bit of confusion.
"A court, I suppose." She tried, experimentally, to get him to understand "Ehm . . . just a group of people you hold in high regard and trust—before, you see, the Millennium Item holders were the coven. Seven is a magical number, you know."
"A coven then . . . " Yuugi repeated softly.
"Oh yes, I would recommend that aspect as inevitable. It says here that the pharaoh couldn't even complete all of his incantations without his coven for support! Magical support, of course."
Do you remember? he had to ask, it seemed so important.
:I . . . don't really. Just people with items . . . but not anything special, I assumed. Not as vital as Professor Vector is implying.:
They sighed as one, emotion flowing freely between the two visible images of one uniform soul. The Yami's image flickered a few times as he sat-- slumped, rather, onto the nearby chair. Yuugi's eyes were drooping dangerously low when Olive discerned their behavior as 'barely conscious', and certainly unable to speak intelligently about such important aspects of their future.
Of her future, too, really. She had to droop a bit in the steady realization that it was unlikely that they could otherwise stop the Dark Lord. She had attempted sleepless nights over candle-light and bleached parchment, reading her complex equations and statistic justifications for their odds . . . and it hadn't looked good.
But then the odd spirit-twins appeared, and all bets were off.
She had to smirk; Voldemort had no idea what they were hiding away in the old castle walls of Hogwarts. No idea.
And it was the only edge they had, as desperate as it may have seemed.
"Look . . . why don't you two go ahead and get some sleep for now while I clean up the library." She said soothingly, moving to steer them gently from the distant library doorway. "I have a lot of cleaning to do--and we can easily set this aside until tomorrow."
The Hikari looked astonished, and as if he were about to protest, but his slowly fading Yami rested a hand on his shoulder to still his earnest reprimand. He caught the words in his throat, slipping out a little half- choked sound.
"Alright." His head hung unsurely.
"Don't worry!" she laughed "Trust me, I should have started on this restoration process a week ago!"
"Why are you cleaning the library?" Yuugi asked curiously, his Yami's semi- there hand still upon his shoulder.
She smiled, a true smile, which was a window into the joys of her work and her home.
"The Hogwarts students are returning in three days! It will be September the first, and the beginning of another fabulous school year."
Olive Vector, stern arithmancist extraordinaire, bounced and giggled like a small child.
It was rather disturbing.
And, if her flashing eyes were any proof of it all, she was quite aware of it and proud of the fact.
An odd thing about traveling, he noted to himself, if you focus close enough, the world just seems to appear before you, as if just for you to walk upon.
He stared at his shoes with a blank expression, walking forward with a peculiar look and placing his hands to hold each other behind his back. One step. One step at a time, and he took in the world as it went.
I wonder what would happen if it no longer appeared?
The path was a clean-cut blur in all the world he took in. His ponderous nature was betraying him, that he understood, to something that could only be described as a little insane.
:I've been to the end of the world.:
"Have you really?" he continued on.
::There's no such thing as the end of the world.:: A biting voice assured.
:You wouldn't know. You haven't been there.:
::Precisely.::
And so the road laid itself before him, like a gently turning wheel, with him too ignorant past the bridge of his nose to notice the cycle.
:. . . There's always an end to everything . . .:
The muffled screams stilled suddenly, she blinked into the darkness. She was startled for a moment; as wide as her eyes were, her vision was still startlingly black, but it was only a moment. It was disturbing how unused to reality she was anymore.
How long had it been . . . fourteen years? Thereabouts certainly. The unpredictability of the world beyond the dreams of the Underworld was still astounding.
Silence enveloped the entirety of the elderly manor, stilling the thoughts of the gently unconscious inside. Others were asleep; able to ignore the distinct sounds of torture through the musty walls, or perhaps soothed by it, drifting away to dreamland without much thought beyond the ordinary. She wondered idly if she could ever be so ignorant of pain and suffering.
No, she admitted to herself, twisting a bit, the Gods have made me this way; I would never be so cold-hearted. Torture is necessary, but never enjoyable.
Avasiah still doubted herself, and was ashamed in the enveloping darkness. Deep, calm, safe darkness.
Her thoughts became jumbled after a while, though she still remained wide- awake and doubtful beyond her cool cold appearance. As her eyes were open and glassy, she forgot to blink for an extended while. She was faced toward the wall, laying over the comforter of the magnificent four-poster bed, decked dully in greens and blacks. Although, the colors had faded in reproach from the lack of illumination . . .
Quietly, oh so quietly, and yet noticeable to the widened eyes of a staring woman, the door opened without the barest traces of a creak. The warm light of burned-down torches filtered smoothly through the doorway, and hugely cast shadows answered its call. The shadows of her and the furniture danced delicately as slow footsteps approached.
"You shouldn't have done that." She spoke suddenly. The steps halted in surprise and sudden wariness.
Unshed leather boots creaked in response.
He chuckled.
"I know."
Avery continued inward, and Avasiah could sense the maddening smile upon his face, even if she was not directly facing him. She sensed that swagger despite obvious pain, that knowing smirk despite unawareness.
He was a fool.
"You are a fool." She spoke coldly.
"Yeah, well," she heard him wince "I get that a lot." From you. The unspoken thought echoed through both conciousnesses.
"You shouldn't have done that." She repeated.
There was a pause, then a quiet voice, deep with a misunderstood sorrow mingled in the tenor tone.
"I had to."
Avasiah rolled her eyes and made a distinct sound of disgust through her throat. She felt the emptiness next to her flux a bit as the man practically fell into the blankets with a hiss of pain. She felt him struggle to prevent him from gasping any more audible points of weakness, but the tension was stifling.
He didn't have to, she knew. He had wanted to.
Avery loved her, yet she was incapable of such thoughts. She scowled into the pillow, wishing it all to disappear somewhere.
"I need to get my mind of this . . ." he whispered hoarsely, suddenly "Seven cruciatus curses in one night . . .
"Avasiah?"
Her eyes narrowed.
"What?"
"Tell me about your son," he recalled a pale, forgotten face with eyes that were no longer capable of rest. Darted to darkened depths and a malicious glint at times . . . "Ryou."
"Why should I?"
"Please."
It wasn't as if she would gain any worthwhile sleep; considering that she couldn't sleep anymore. Guilt still pulled ragingly at her heartstrings, as a thought echoed with singular vitality:
I could never love him.
She was so so tired, she would disappear soon, and she had yet to find an apprentice. She couldn't return the unselfish love of a selfless man. She failed; she had borne a son, of which she could never rid herself of entirely, despite his uselessness.
Avasiah breathed in deeply.
There is nothing else to it.
"Ryou was a failure . . . " she began.
"Why do you always say that?"
She rolled her eyes impatiently.
"Because he was a male."
The air was dubious.
"I was meant to have a girl; a girl to continue the ancient line created by my ancestors . . . a girl to apprentice my place effectively and fully . . . "
"Why did you abandon him? Was he a squib or something?" he wanted to understand that peculiar aura around the quiet, pale-haired boy.
She paused, abruptly unable to put her thoughts into words.
"Not in the sense you would understand . . . "
"How then?''
Damn him and his meaningless questions.
"Hush or I will stop." She snarled.
He quieted.
"The boy . . . if he were a 'squib' there would be no problem . . . I stayed with him and his worthless father for five years, simply because of blood relation . . . I tried to think of him as the girl he wasn't . . . but I could not."
She bit her lip.
Why does it matter?
"I hated him." She said finally. "He is dangerous. The sort of mindless male I destroy so well."
"Why?"
Rain splattered on the roof above them, and soon a storm rolled in. Several moments passed before she had any sense to explain . . .
"He is deaf to magic." Avasiah breathed. "He is dangerous."
She knew by Avery's impatient sigh that he would never understand how dangerous the boy was.
Gods forbid him ever to discover what lies dormant.
AN - Sorry about the wait, dearies. I've been in the midst of softball, amoung finals preparations and such . . . though I did get MVP for my high-school team Bah, I know; no excuse.
In a few months I believe I will be a bit more available to write, which is fortunate. I have every honest intention of relaxing fully this break, and what better way than to write my twisted little stories? Mwahahahaha.
Anywho, I'm late for a doctor's appointment as we speak, so toodles for now. I hope you enjoyed the chapter, at least partially. With luck, I'll be bringing the rest of the "crew" next chapter. Be afraid. (rah!)
Please review if you have any suggestions, or would be so very kind as to fuel my ambition. Or kill it.
giggle