Chapter I:
"What can we do? You-Know-Who is too strong!"
Pacing back and force in Dumbledore's office, a young man talked to the calmly in his chair sitting headmaster of Hogwarts.
"Calm down. It is no help if we become total hysterical."
With a loud huff the young man let himself fall in one of the chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk.
"So what do YOU suggest?"
Dumbledore ran slowly a hand trough his white beard. Then he said six simple words and the stomach of the young man clenched.
"Ancient must be asked for help."
Bakura lifted his head and stared into the sky where the sun should be. But instead it was hidden by grey dust, cold as the many chambers where the Kings of Egyptian were buried. The white-haired thief furrowed his brown but continued down the dune with the reins of his horse grasped tightly in his hand, knowing that something was wrong but that he couldn't do anything against it at the moment.
It was very staggering to have his former enemy as one of his high-priests and seeing absolute obedience in his eyes threw Yami even more for a loop.
Yami tugged at one of his golden bangs while he leaned against the balustrade of his balcony, his thoughts flowing yet again back to the blue-eyed priest of his. Kaiba Seto -no, Seth in this time and country- was one of the most loyal followers a King could wish for. But still…there was a feeling of doom lingering in the back of his head that made him suspected that again somebody wanted to make the Millennium items his and rule the world. First persons to suspect: Seth and Bakura, the two of them had tried many times before to defeat him and -in Bakura's case- to use the items. But Bakura had changed drastically during the past three years in their future, turning from a revenge-seeking lunatic to a quite thoughtful yet still adventurous person. He even helped defeating some enemies. Maybe one of them had followed them in the past and tried to mess up time.
The Pharaoh seriously considered starting a book to list all the want-to-be-world-rulers. It would make his work easier, for they could look up all the methods of the bad boys.
Before other thoughts could enter his mind, there was a knock at his door and the feeling of danger exploded trough his body.
Cliff was as pale as the moon and stared disbelieving at Dumbledore. Once again the young man paced the office of the headmaster. His eyes as big as one's of an owl, one sentence rattled over and over again trough his head: "He is kidding me!"
Finally he stopped his pacing and tried to hide his emotions behind a stony mask. He failed miserably.
"I know you are upset, Cliff." Dumbledore started softly like he was speaking to a frightened kid. "But that is our last resource." He lifted his right arm, showing the dark and only slowly healing flesh of his hand. "I am too old to fight alone against Vol- I'm sorry, I meant Who-must-not-be-named again. We NEED the help of Ancient's desperately. Or our world will not be a happy place again."
Silence settled after these words in the room, Cliff trying to find another way to defeat You-Know-Who and Dumbledore gazing thoughtfully at one of the many portraits in his office.
In the end Cliff's shoulders slumped in defeat and he turned back to Dumbledore.
"How are we going to find one who can still use ancient magic?"
Dumbledore shrugged.
Cliff paled even more.
Tumbling down the rabbit hole.
That was the exact term Bakura would have used if he wasn't busy shielding himself from the bandaged hands of thousand mummies reaching out for him. He was falling deeper and deeper down a black crack. How that had happened was even a mystery to him. One moment he was walking with his horse right behind him over solid sand, the next moment he was stumbling and then came the sensation of free fall.
His stomach made a nosedive when he was wrenched in another direction and the hands suddenly disappeared. Solid ground came into view and before Bakura knew it, he was plastered against the cold stone floor.
"Ouch!"
Memories floated in the form of thick drops all around him. Yami hovered between them while he tried to figure out what had happened. But the only thing he could remember was danger. Much danger. And the splitting fingernails of his right hand.
He looked down and saw that indeed, most of his fingers were bloodied. Slowly he reached out for one droplet and was met with the icy feeling of snow. He remembered now, his first winter with Yugi and his other friends. On the first day it had snowed so much that they were able to build a snowman and make a snow ball match. Ryou with a grumpy Bakura had joined them and they had compared their white hair with the snow.
When Yami moved his hand back out of the memory, the blood on his fingers was gone and instead there were fast melting snow flakes. He flexed his fingers and watched the snow becoming water and then dripping down from his arm to mix with a memory drop further down.
"Interesting."
Suddenly there was a golden chain around his ankles, pulling him down and away from the memories. It became darker and warmer until he smelt cinnamon. The same moment his feet met solid ground Bakura hit the floor beside him face first.
"This is madness…" Cliff mumbled while he stared at the two forms in front of them. "We could change history drastically!"
Dumbledore didn't seem to be concerned but there was a serious expression on his face none the less. He regarded the two man in front of them trough his half-moon glasses with narrowed eyes and waited patiently until they had recovered from being thrown around time.
The white-haired spotted them first, took in their surroundings -a muggle house some miles away from Hogwarts- then moaned something in a foreign language only for him and the other brown skinned male to understand.
"Not again!" Bakura whined in the ancient Egypt language as soon as he spotted the TV set behind the two strange clothed men. "We are back HERE!"
Yami frowned and regarded the strangers with a calculating look.
"Bakura, I think they are familiar with magic."
The tomb robber rolled his eyes.
"No shit, Sherlock. And I thought we were brought here by a cracked up rabbit with strange hats."
The Pharaoh starred a moment at him. "Where did you hear about rabbits with strange hats?"
"A book Ryou forced me to read."
"Ah."
"So what shall we do now?"
"Ask them what they want? And maybe we should not mention that we already know our way around this time. We don't want to get Yugi and Ryou into this, or?"
"Aww, but with them it would be so much more fun!"
"They would be likewise in danger."
"Yeah, yeah, come down from your overprotective brother mode."
"…I am not in overprotective brother mode!"
"Whatever you say, great son of the Gods and light of Egypt."
"Stop mocking me! You know I hate it!"
"Why do you think I am doing it?"
A cough from the younger of the two in front of them made them turn their attention back to the two magic-wielders.
The older pointed a short stick at them and said a single word that Yami and Bakura recognised as Latin, then he began to speak and to their surprise they knew that it was English and they could understand it.
"My name is Dumbledore and this is Cliff Edwardsen. I am sure you have recognised that you aren't longer at your homes. You are in the future, about 3000 years away from your time. I summoned you to ask for your help."
Bakura's eye-brown twitched as he stared at the white haired and bearded man in front of them, the stick still in one of his hands.
"You know, it could be the cause that you just ripped us away from our families or other important matters. What will happen when just during a war the commander disappears? Or one of us has to reign a whole country? (Yami's skin-colour turned an unhealthy pale shade despite its dark nature) Think about that, old man, before you open your mouth again and ask for our help!"
Yami seemed to be out of it, swaying slightly from one side to the other, a horrified look in his eyes as he thought about the consequences of him suddenly disappearing. Bakura had his arms crossed over his muscular chest, a frown on his tanned features and seemingly very unhappy.
Dumbledore looked calmly at him. "I ask you so you can decide if you want to go back to your time or help us. For the battle and the country example, after this is over you will be sent right back to the point in time where you came from. Did I rip you away from family?"
Bakura's frown deepened and a thought rattled trough his mind.
/No, but from a great chase trough the old tomb with much gold as the price. That's even worse./
He didn't answer Dumbledore verbally and only continued staring at him unhappily. Beside him Yami calmed down and shook his head as "No."
The old man took Bakura's piercing glare as a negative answer, too, and continued.
"So, do you want to stay or leave?"
"Stay."
"Stay."
Dumbledore was slightly surprised by their fast answers but didn't say anything, just smiled and waved a hand in the direction of the fireplace.
"Before I tell you the whole story we should go back to a safer place."
Bakura eyed the fireplace, suspicious of any hidden traps, and Yami was slightly paranoid, too. Their Millenniumitems, both safely secured around their necks, had confirmed with a pulse that magic clang to it like a second skin. But when Cliff stepped forward and set with a flick of his own wand fire to the wood, they took some steps back and made sure that they could see the sticks all the time.
Dumbledore smiled reassuringly at them while Cliff pulled some powder out of a pot that had appeared out of nowhere and spread a hand-full of it in the fire with the effect being the flames turning green.
Yami starred at the fire. /Magic./ his mind told him.
But when Cliff stuck his head right into the now green flames his thoughts came to a screeching halt.
"Is he committing suicide?" Bakura curiously asked by his side but Dumbledore just kept smiling and seconds later Cliff leaned back with no wound anywhere and nodded at the old man.
"Everything is fine."
"Well, well, well…Now, boys-" Bakura's eye twitched dangerously as he was being regarded as a kid. "- you just have to take some of the powder here, step into the fireplace and say loud and clearly "Hogwarts" while you fling it down. Cliff will show you how you do it."
The young man let the fire die down with another flick of his wand, took another potion of the powder and did as Dumbledore had told them. He disappeared in a cloud of smoke.
"Now you." Dumbledore waved Bakura to the fireplace and the tomb robber took grudgingly some of the power and stepped on the burned wood.
"Hogwarts." He said clearly and was gone the next second.
"That seemed to have gone well. Just say loud and clear "Hogwarts" and nothing will happen."
/And what will happen if I mumble "Hogwarts"? Better let somebody else test this out./ Yami took some powder and shoved it down the same moment he said in his I-am-Pharaoh-and-you-are-nothing voice "Hogwarts!"
"Some interesting kids we have here, don't we?" Dumbledore said while he tucked his wand and the pot with the powder safely in his cape. "Hogwarts." And he was gone, too.
Why do people read my story but don't review? I don't bite so what's your problem? Just a little review to tell me what I make right and what wrong? PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE! I will update soon, too!