Of Wizards and Duelists …
XO'MagickMoon'OX
A/N: Here's another disclaimer for you all: I did copy the Sorting Hat's song from the OotP. Let me say that it is J. K. Rowling's magnificent rhyme and not mine. All right … I want to also thank everyone for their pairing suggestions and for just their reviews in general! Enjoy …
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"Wow!" Yuugi stared in awe at the castle looming in the distance as he poked his head out of the carriage window. "Guys! Look at this place!" With its gothic appearance, it's rising, black turrets blending in with the sky behind it, its silhouette only outlined by the light of the full moon, the windows glowing like little flames against the stone wall, Hogwarts was a sight to see.
Ryou sat quietly in the carriage with his hands in his lap, gazing blankly out the window.
"Hey Ryou," came a soft voice.
Ryou looked over to see Malik watching him worriedly. The blonde put a comforting hand on the other's shoulder, and Ryou instinctively bristled under the touch. Malik seemed taken aback as he pulled his hand away and went to staring out his window.
Ryou groaned inwardly. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why did I do that? He meant it to be consoling, not awkward. Why did I stiffen like that, as if I didn't like him touching me? I'm so –
Pathetic? Bakura jeered. Honestly, all you do is ramble … it's so damn annoying
Ryou reddened. Well, you don't have to listen, you know.
Of course I do. How am I supposed to keep you under control if I don't know what you're thinking?
Why do you have to keep me under control?
Because I own you. A master that lets its pet run wild isn't a very responsible master.
I'm not your pet.
Oh, I beg to differ.
I'm no –
Shut-up!
"Gah!" Ryou's head began to pound. He doubled over and put his head in his hands.
Koe … he whined.
You see. I own you.
"Ryou, are you all right?" Yuugi asked.
The pounding grew, as if there were a jackhammer drilling into his skull. When next he opened his eyes to look at Yuugi, his eyesight was blurred. The Ring around his neck seemed unbearably heavy.
Then, he felt a strong hand grab his forearm, and he looked to his left to see Malik, again watching him, this time with increased concern. Ryou tried to force a smile, but his head felt like it would split in two with one small twitch, let alone a smile. Darkness crawled on the edge of his vision. He took a deep breath and found his lungs choked. With a final strained cough, he blacked out, and fell sideways into Malik's lap. Malik looked over at Yuugi sitting across from him, then back to Ryou.
Malik blinked down at the frail, white-haired boy, his eyes wide with fear and worry. What was wrong with Ryou? Then, a thought came to him. "If this is Bakura's doing," Malik growled, "I swear I'm going to kill that tomb robber." He blushed at his senseless words. "Or, as best I can for someone who's already dead," he amended.
Yuugi sighed. "Poor Ryou. Bakura's been nothing but trouble for him ever since he became Bakura's host. It's not fair."
Malik nodded, and his frown softened from angry to thoughtful. He stroked Ryou's head, fingers playing through the white, silky tresses. He had never noticed how pale Ryou was, or the fact that his hair was seemingly unnaturally soft. The boy looked almost … beautiful, especially with the moonlight shining through the windows gracing his features. Like some sort of angel …
The carriage screeched to a halt. Yuugi and Malik looked up. They were parked in front of the entrance to the school.
"Ryou." Malik shook the boy gently. He didn't waken. His chest rose and fell softly with each breath. "Ryou …"
Meanwhile, Bakura's spirit was sitting next to Yuugi – invisible to everyone conscious at the time – laughing his ass off. It was so much fun to play with his yadonushi like that. When would the boy realize that Bakura did, in fact, own him? Free will was a fairy tale; freedom, a myth.
Bakura's laughing fit quelled, and he wiped the tears in his eyes that were brought by such laughter, still grinning wildly. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, watching Malik's futile attempts to wake Ryou. The boy was out cold; he wouldn't be awake for a little while longer. Bakura looked from the young Egyptian to his yadonushi, and he grew pensive.
This situation, sitting here in the carriage, the darkness blunted by the white moonlight, reminded Bakura of the nights when he would sit at Ryou's bedside and watch him sleep.
Though Bakura would never admit it to anyone, there was just something about the boy when he was unconscious; the way he looked so peaceful, the way his lips would part slightly, the way his hair fell about his face … Bakura couldn't explain it exactly, but there was just something … ethereal and beautiful about Ryou then. Something that made Bakura's mind reel with memories and his stomach stir with emotion.
But … it didn't mean anything. Did it? Certainly it couldn't mean that –
"You love Ryou, don't you?"
"GAH!" Bakura jumped nearly five feet in the air. Once he'd settled himself again, gasping for breath, he turned to see who had spoken.
The Pharaoh.
He was sitting on the edge of the seat opposite Bakura, next to Ryou, his elbows propped on his knees, chin resting on his laced fingers. It was the Pharaoh's spirit, mind you, released from the confines of his Puzzle. The only other entities besides a spirit's host that can see it when it's not inhabiting a body are other spirits. Bakura glared at his rival.
"What?"
"You love Ryou, don't you?" the Pharaoh repeated, still watching the tomb robber with the same emotionless expression.
"What are you talking about?" Bakura snapped. "I … I do not!"
"Then why did you stammer?" the Pharaoh asked, the corner of his lip twitching into a smirk.
Bakura swore under his breath. Then, he said, "I do not love that pathetic excuse for a human!"
"Tsk tsk … I knew you were a thieving rat, but a liar, too?" The Pharaoh's smirk widened.
Bakura jumped to his feet. "Shut-up!"
"Bakura, I see right through your façade."
"What fucking façade?" Bakura shouted heatedly.
"The façade that you hide your feelings behind. The only reason you're so cruel to Ryou is because you're afraid of your own feelings; the concept of loving another being frightens you."
"You don't know what you're talking about!" Bakura snapped.
"There's nothing wrong with failing in love," the Pharaoh said quietly.
"It's weak," the tomb robber spat. "Emotion … feeling … attachment … it's all weakness. Don't you know what happens to the weak, Pharaoh? They get eaten by the strong. The strong live and the weak die."
The Pharaoh's ruby eyes slid shut. "You may see love as weakness, but I see it as strength." Then, as an afterthought, he added, "But that doesn't mean I see you as strong, even if you are in love. By all means, you're still a thieving rat."
The Pharaoh then looked over at Yuugi, who was assisting Malik in trying to revive Ryou. Bakura was startled as he saw longing flicker through his eyes.
"Pharaoh?"
The tri-color-haired spirit looked up.
"Do you love Yuugi?"
The Pharaoh chuckled dryly, again closing his eyes, but said nothing.
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"Come on, Harry," Ron called to his friend as he stepped down from the carriage and joined the crowd heading inside.
"Coming," Harry responded as he, too, jumped down and headed towards the entrance.
"Hey, guys!" Hermione gasped. "Look." They followed her gaze.
"It's … what was his name? Yuugi? Yeah … it's Yuugi," Ron said.
Sure enough, two carriages behind them, Yuugi was hopping out of his carriage looking grave. Malik followed, carrying Ryou in his strong arms. Harry, Ron, and Hermione ran up to the group as Ginny, Luna, and Neville continued on.
"What happened?" Hermione asked as they neared.
Malik huffed, turning his gaze up to the castle, leaving Yuugi to answer.
"Ah … nothing!" The small boy laughed nervously. "He … got a little motion-sick is all. "
The trio looked skeptical. Hermione placed a hand to Ryou's forehead and gasped. "He's burning up!"
Ryou groaned. Malik looked worried. Turning to Yuugi, he whispered, "That's never happened before. Fainting, sure … but fever?"
Yuugi shook his head. "I'm sure it will pass. Bakura would never go to such an extreme as permanently hurting him; he needs him for his host."
"Maybe Bakura can't control what's happening. Maybe this is beyond him and there's something really wrong with Ryou."
"All right, who's this 'Bakura' person?" Ron asked, hands on his hips. Though the two had been speaking in hushed tones, whispering is pretty useless if there are people standing less than a foot away from you.
Yuugi and Malik looked up, startled.
"No one," Yuugi squeaked.
The Ring began to glow, golden light playing across everyone's faces. Ryou stirred before opening his eyes, which were now a bright, piercing brown, devoid of their usual gentleness.
Which could only mean one thing.
"Get your hands off of my yadonushi!" Bakura hissed, jumping from Malik's arms. He swore in ancient Egyptian, smoothing his hands down his robes. He looked at the three bemused Gryffindors. "I'm Bakura," he said, answering Ron's question.
"Oh … er … I thought your name was 'Ryou'," Hermione stammered.
"It is!" Yuugi jumped in. "Ryou Bakura. 'Bakura' is his last name." Yuugi smiled and scratched the back of his head nervously.
Ron leaned in to whisper to Harry, "I don't think these three are right in the head."
Harry nodded. "There's something definitely strange about them, even by our standards."
"Yeah." Ron beamed at the trio. "Well, best get a move on. We don't want to miss the Sorting. I reckon you three will be sorted tonight, too."
Yuugi looked puzzled. "'Sorting'?"
"Yeah," Ron said. "You need to be sorted into your houses. Ah, you'll see when we get in there. Come on."
Bakura, Yuugi, Malik, Hermione, and Harry followed Ron as he headed inside. Yuugi, Bakura, and Malik hung back a little.
"Bakura," Yuugi hissed, "what did you do to Ryou?"
"Oh, calm down. He's fine. Just taking a little break in the Ring." Bakura patted his chest where the said Item hung on a brown cord.
"I mean, what did you do to him earlier, when he fainted?"
"Eh," Bakura shrugged, "he was getting a little rebellious. I had to put him in his place."
"Why you …" Malik glared daggers at the thief. If looks could kill, Bakura would've fallen dead to the ground at that second. But, the white-haired tomb robber just smirked.
"Oh-hoh! Does someone have feelings for my yadonushi?" Bakura mocked, though there was a certain unrecognizable bitterness in his voice as he said it.
Malik blushed, whether from anger or something else, no one could tell. "Shut-up," he snapped.
"Let me tell you now, tomb keeper, Ryou is mine. I'm not sharing him with anyone else."
Malik expected to see Bakura smirking, as if taunting him, but, even in the dim torchlight, Malik saw that the thief was serious … deadly serious. The Ring lit up again, and moments later Ryou had returned to his body. He stumbled for a second before he regained his senses and his balance. Malik went to feel Ryou's forehead, and was relieved to find his temperature back to normal.
Then, the boys reached the Great Hall. Just as they were about to follow Harry, Ron, and Hermione inside, they heard someone called them.
"Hey you three! Boys! Over here!"
They turned to see an elderly woman clad in emerald robes and a pointed witch's hat waving to them. Behind her stood a long line of anxious-looking children. Yuugi, Ryou, and Malik hurried over to her, slightly puzzled.
When they reached the woman, she said, "I'm Professor McGonagall." She had a sweet voice, like a much-loved maternal figure. Though, her sugary tone did not hide the stern, disciplinary air, and the boys knew that she was not one to mess around with. With a sweep of her arm, she motioned to the students behind her. "These are the first-years to be sorted. You are the new students from Japan, am I right?"
The trio nodded.
"Okay, now when we enter, I would like you to join the end of the line. You will be sorted last." She smiled. "We are glad to have you with us this year."
Yuugi nodded, as did Ryou and Malik, before plastering one of his trademark grins on his face.
"All right. Everyone, follow me!" Professor McGonagall led the students inside the large wooden doors.
Yuugi, Ryou, and Malik waited until the last few students had passed through the double doors before they joined. They were unprepared for the sight that met them as they entered the Hall.
It was huge, filled with students, all of whom were divided into four tables. Hundreds of candles hung suspended in the air, as if by invisible strings, lighting the Hall. The atmosphere was warm and inviting, and a thick, sweet aroma wafted around the witches and wizards. The floor in the front of the Hall was raised by a few stairs to create a platform, where there was another table at which adults were seated, obviously the teachers. The one in the center, an elderly man with a long white beard and half-moon spectacles, watched everything from where he sat, his eyes twinkling. Another teacher who sat a little ways to the right of the elder man had a sour air about him. His sleek, black hair swept his shoulders, and he looked down his hooked nose at the students with his coal-black eyes, as if scrutinizing each and every one. There was also a squat woman sitting directly on the bearded man's left. She had small, beady eyes and sagging gray skin, a mop of curly brown hair atop her head, tied up in a small black bow. She did not look like someone the boys were eager to meet any time soon. As they further observed the hall, they noticed silvery specters floating through the air, and recognized them as ghosts. But, what completely blew the trio away was the ceiling; it was an exact replica of the night sky, with the misty clouds and glittering stars … if the boys didn't know any better, they'd say the Great Hall had no roof, and they were looking straight into the heavens.
As McGonagall took them to line up at the front of the Hall, the trio could feel everyone's eyes on them, and frantic whispers followed in their wake. It wasn't just their foreign appearances that had everyone in a tizzy; as Malik passed, there were numerous excited squeals from girls at every table. Finally, they reached the platform, where the students lined up as Professor McGonagall disappeared somewhere behind one of the intricate tapestries hanging on the wall behind the teacher's table. She reappeared moments later with a stool in one hand and what looked like a tattered, old witch's hat in the other.
She placed the stool in the middle of the stage, the clunk of the wooden legs against the floorboards resounding through the near-silent Hall. Everyone seemed to be holding their breaths with quiet anticipation. To the three foreigners, McGonagall placing a hat on a stool wasn't such a big deal.
That is, until they heard the hat speak. And when it started to sing, they couldn't help but gasp.
"In times of old when I was new
And Hogwarts barely started
The founders of our noble school
Thought never to be parted:
United by a common goal,
They had the selfsame yearning,
To make the world's best magic school
And pass along their learning.
'Together we will build and teach!'
The four good friends decided
And never did they dream that they
Might one day be divided,
For were there such friends anywhere
As Slytherin and Gryffindor?
Unless it was the second pair
Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?
So how could it have gone so wrong?
How could such friendships fail?
Why, I was there and so can tell
The whole sad, sorry tale.
Said Slytherin, 'We'll teach just those
Whose ancestry is purest.'
Said Ravenclaw, 'We'll teach those whose
Intelligence is surest.'
Said Gryffindor, 'We'll teach all those
With brave deeds to their name.'
Said Hufflepuff, 'I'll teach the lot,
And treat them just the same.'
These differences caused little strife
When first they came to light,
For each of the four founders had
A House in which they might
Take only those they wanted, so,
For instance, Slytherin
Took only pure-blood wizards
Of great cunning, just like him,
And only those of sharpest mind
Were taught by Ravenclaw
While the bravest and the boldest
Went to daring Gryffindor.
Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest,
And taught them all she knew,
Thus the Houses and their founders
Retained friendships firm and true.
So Hogwarts worked in harmony
For several happy years,
But then discord crept among us
Feeding on our faults and fears.
The Houses that, like pillars four,
Had once held up our school,
Now turned upon each other and,
Divided, sought to rule.
And for a while it seemed the school
Must meet an early end,
What with dueling and with fighting
And the clash of friend on friend
And at last there came a morning
When old Slytherin departed
And though the fighting then died out
He left us quite downhearted.
And never since the founders four
Were whittled down to three
Have the Houses been united
As they once were meant to be.
And now the Sorting Hat is here
And you all know the score:
I sort you into Houses
Because that is what I'm for,
But this year I'll go further,
Listen closely to my song:
Though condemned I am to split you
Still I worry that it's wrong,
Though I must fulfill my duty
And must quarter every year
Still I wonder whether sorting
May not bring the end I fear.
Oh, know the perils, read the signs,
The warning history shows,
For our Hogwarts is in danger
From external, deadly foes
And we must unite insider her
Or we'll crumble from within
I have told you, I have warned you …
Let the Sorting now begin."
The Hall broke out into applause. The trio, however, was still too shocked to act. They turned to each other with wide-eyed stares.
"That was …" Yuugi was at a loss for words.
"Bizarre," Malik finished.
"I didn't know hats could sing," Ryou murmured.
"Well, I didn't know that candles could float, or that ceilings could look like the sky outside," Yuugi added. "We're in a whole 'nother world here."
Ryou nodded. "So, what do you think that hat meant by 'know the perils, read the signs' and 'we must unite inside her or crumble from within'?"
"Well," Malik answered, "apparently, there are four Houses that students are divided into each year depending on their character, and the Sorting all started when some of the founders wanted to be selective with what students they taught. I think the Hat was saying that if the Houses don't unite, then we'll all be in danger … great danger."
Yuugi chuckled dryly. "That's nothing new for us."
"So," Ryou said quietly, "this means that we're going to be split up?"
Yuugi nodded solemnly, as if that fact had just dawned on him as well. "Most likely."
The Sorting continued, the line of first-years slowly dwindling down as they sat on the stool and put on the Hat, which then decided what House to put them in. Finally …
"Bakura, Ryou!" Professor McGonagall's sugary voice rang out.
As Ryou stepped tentatively forward, whispers and murmurs sounded throughout the Hall, points and stares aimed at the white-haired boy. Ryou sat on the stool, looking out at the other students anxiously. He hated the limelight.
Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on Ryou's head, and immediately Ryou heard its wise, grating voice in his head. He squeaked in surprise.
Well, well boy, the Sorting Hat said. I think you'd do just fine in Hufflepuff … yes, that's where I'll put you. Out loud, the Hat began to call, "HUFFLE –"
The Hat paused. Hold on, Ryou heard the voice again. No, not Hufflepuff … Slytherin. Yes, sly and cunning … Slytherin. "SLYTH –"
Again, the Hat stopped. Boy, what is going on here? At first, you seem fit for Hufflepuff, but then I find traces of a Slytherin heart in your soul.
The Hall was silent, all whispers and murmurs, pointing and gaping ceased. They, too, were wondering what was going on.
Well, no … yes … Hufflepuff it is. "HUFFLE – " No, no … Slytherin. "SLYTHER –"
Boy! What is going on? the Hat demanded. It's like you have two hearts … two souls in one body … one that goes in Hufflepuff, and the other that goes in Slytherin. I don't know where you belong …
Then, the Hat called, "NEXT!"
The murmurs started up again, some protests and shouts of surprise from the audience. The elderly man that sat in the center of the teacher's table stood as the nervous din increased in volume.
"What is the meaning of this?" he asked gently.
"My apologies, Headmaster," the Hat said. "But this boy cannot be sorted. He has two souls in one body, and they both belong in different Houses."
The Headmaster was silent. "'Two souls' …?" he murmured. "Ah, okay. Very well then. We'll get back to him."
Professor McGonagall nodded and quieted the Hall. None of the students had heard the exchange between the Hat and Dumbledore, as they had all been too loud. As McGonagall shushed them, they silenced immediately, eager to watch what would happen next.
Professor McGonagall took the Hat from Ryou's head and told him to wait to the side. Then, she called, "Ishtar, Malik."
His black robes sweeping about his ankles, Malik stepped towards the stool and took a seat, his arms folded. The atmosphere seemed to spark with an excited electricity, most of it emanating from the girls in the Hall. McGonagall placed the Hat on Malik's head, and moments later it blurted, "RAVENCLAW!"
There was a bout of applause from the Ravenclaw table. Malik stepped down and, with a disheartened glance back at his friends, made his way to the Ravenclaw table, where he seemed to be being ushered.
"Mutou, Yuugi!"
Yuugi stepped up to the Hat and sat down on the stool. The Hat was placed on his head, and he, too, heard the Hat's voice in his head.
Ah, you're like your friend … with two souls in one body. Except, your souls seem to be in agreement. "GRYFFINDOR!" the Hat announced.
The Gryffindor table began to applaud. Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked up in surprise, until they smiled as Yuugi made his way to his seat with the fifth-years.
"Well, Mr. Bakura. I suppose you have the choice of which House you want to be placed in," Professor McGonagall said to Ryou.
Ryou looked around, biting his lower lip nervously.
Slytherin! Bakura urged.
What? Why?
They look like an interesting bunch.
To you maybe. I'd much rather go with either Yuugi or Malik.
Well, seeing so the Ravenclaws are the most intelligent, I don't think you belong there. So that leaves Gryffindor, though you're not exactly brave, either.
You're just mean.
No, I'm truthful.
Koe …
Yadonushi …
"Mr. Bakura?" McGonagall pulled Ryou out of his silent conversation. "Well, what House?"
Go with Yuugi, Bakura suggested.
Why Yuugi?
Because I don't want you with Malik.
That was the last thing Bakura said before he closed himself off from the mind-link.
Koe? … Koe?
"Mr. Bakura," McGonagall demanded, her patience slipping.
"Gryffindor," Ryou said hurriedly.
Professor McGonagall nodded. "Very well then. Gryffindor it is."
The Gryffindor table cheered again as Ryou made his way to sit down next to Yuugi.
Malik couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed that Ryou hadn't wanted to join him in Ravenclaw.
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All righty then. Good? Bad? Pairings ... you likey so far? Any more ideas for pairings, please tell me! And, this is, of course TBC unless there's someone that thinks this story is so horrible that it would be a sin to continue it.
And remember: REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW!
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