Of Wizards and Duelists …
XO'MagickMoon'OX
A/N: Yae! Another chapter void of any of J. K.'s dialogue! I think I deserve a cookie. Well, let me warn you now that this chapter might get a little confusing. If you can follow it, great, and if you can't well, just e-mail me with any questions you might have if you really want to know something that you didn't understand. I will be glad to answer! Okay now, enjoy!
---
---
Ryou and Malik were almost to the Ravenclaw tower, Malik with his arm around Ryou's waist, when the white-haired boy stopped. The Egyptian looked down inquisitively at the other, who was looking strangely paler than usual. Then, he dropped to his knees, one hand pushed beneath his bangs on his forehead.
"Ryou, what's wrong?" Malik asked, kneeling down next to the other boy.
"I … I don't feel so … good," Ryou whispered, screwing his eyes shut. His hand fell to his side.
Malik reached up and felt Ryou's forehead and gasped. "You're burning up!" He slid his hand down to Ryou's fevered cheek, and then his neck, confirming his diagnosis. He could only remember one other time when Ryou had been this hot, and that had been that night in the carriage when Bakura had knocked his host out.
Ryou's breathing became ragged. "It's … Bakura …" he gasped.
Malik scowled. "Why that son of a –"
"No," Ryou interrupted. "He's … angry … and in … pain …" Ryou opened his eyes, which were glazed with fever. "This is a … side-effect of … his emotions …" Ryou tried to peer through his and his yami's mind-link to figure out what was wrong. His eyes widened, and he drew a sharp breath.
"What?"
Ryou blinked. Though he couldn't see Bakura exactly, through their connection he just instinctively knew that … "He's crying."
It was Malik's turn to blink. "Come again?"
"He's crying, Malik … he's actually crying …" Ryou staggered to his feet, and once he'd collected himself, took off at a run down the corridor.
Malik followed. Coming up alongside the other boy, he said, "Where are we going?"
"To find Bakura," Ryou answered as they turned a corner. His face was contorted with pain, as if the simple act of moving caused his head to throb and his world to spin. But he kept going.
Malik said, "You're in no condition to be running, Ryou. Why do you care what's wrong with Bakura, anyway?"
Ryou didn't answer. It wasn't that he didn't want to answer, it was that he himself didn't even know. So he just shrugged and continued down the corridors.
"Where is he?" Malik asked after a few moments of wordless silence.
"Outside … at that archway that … marks the entrance to the grounds around the school," Ryou panted. They pushed past a group of second-year Hufflepuffs and hurried down a flight of stairs. Ryou paused at the bottom to catch his breath. With his hands on his knees, he leaned against the railing. Malik stood beside him, waiting for the boy to regain his energy. Then, Ryou straightened and continued running down this hallway and that, Malik at his heel, until he sprang into the courtyard and ran down the pathways and small sets of stone stairs, dodging bushes and trees and the like until he reached the archway where Atemu and Bakura were still sitting.
Ryou stopped, gasping for breath, and looked up at the spirits. Ryou, of course, couldn't see Atemu, but he knew that the other spirit was there. Malik could see neither Atemu nor Bakura, but he nonetheless stood beside the white-haired boy and looked up with him.
The freestanding archway stood at about fifteen feet and had emerald ivy climbing up the two granite pillars that supported the top beam of stone, which was carved to curve slightly. Bakura sat with his legs beneath him and Atemu with his dangling over the edge, one arm around the thief's shoulder. They had been sitting in silence for nearly ten minutes with nothing but Bakura's crying filling the air. Bakura had his head in his hands, white locks spilling over his shoulders, phantom body racked with sobs. Atemu, too, had tears in his eyes, but refused to let them fall. Upon seeing Ryou and Malik, the Pharaoh stiffened and squeezed Bakura's shoulder, though he knew that he was invisible to both boys. Bakura's head snapped up and he turned to Atemu, who was staring at the ground. The thief followed Atemu's gaze, and upon seeing his host and the young Egyptian, promptly fell backwards off of the archway with a yelp.
Atemu slid off the archway and gracefully glided to the ground, then went to help Bakura up. Once on his feet, Bakura immediately turned his back to Ryou and Malik, wiping the tears from his face. Then he spun on his heel and plastered a trademark scowl on his face. The blotchy complexion and puffy eyes did nothing to help his façade.
"What do you want?" he growled at Ryou.
But Ryou was speechless. Fever gone, he just gaped at the spirit.
Bakura folded his arms and huffed impatiently. "Well?"
Ryou just shook his head, still unable to speak. Bakura had been crying. Ryou had never seen his yami cry. His yami, the scowling, sardonic, sadistic, cruel, arrogant, homicidal Thief King had been crying. It wasn't possible, was it? To cry you needed to have a heart; Bakura didn't have a heart, did he? Did he have feelings and emotions like everyone else?
"Yes!" Bakura snapped indignantly.
Ryou blushed. Bakura had been reading his thoughts. The white-haired boy shook his head, before asking quietly, "Why … Why were you … crying?"
"None of your Ra-damned business, and if you even think about reading my memory through our link to find out, I will kill you in your sleep."
Ryou whimpered, and Atemu hit Bakura in the back of the head. The thief stumbled forward before spinning around and shouting, "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?"
"Why did you say that?" Atemu asked, fully aware that neither Ryou nor Malik could hear him. "You're not helping your situation any by threatening him, you know."
Bakura growled, but said nothing. He turned back to Ryou, whom Malik had his arms wrapped protectively around. The thief felt a familiar stinging in his eyes, but held it back, and masked the pain he was sure was flashing across his face. The Ring around Ryou's neck began to glow and the air rippled before Bakura disappeared inside the Item, retreating to his mind chamber in search of solitude.
But the thief hadn't been fast enough to hide his emotions from his host. Ryou had seen the hurt on Bakura's face as clearly as he had seen him sobbing naught but five minutes ago.
---
The milky light of the waxing moon shown through the leaves of a maple tree that stood proud in the courtyard. The stretch of velvet black canvas above Bakura's head was dotted with stars, and the October wind blew through his snowy tresses, tossing them about his porcelain face, and kissing his skin. The stone bench was cold beneath him and the tree trunk sturdy at his back. He leaned into its stiff embrace, wishing it was not a tree behind him but a person, someone warm and soft, someone he loved. He shivered in the cold, and cursed his stupidity of not dressing warmly enough. Surely now Ryou would get sick because of him, because he was too arrogant to wear a hat, or even a scarf. Dammit.
But he didn't move, didn't retreat into the shelter of the castle, because it had been so long since he'd gotten to sit and look at the moon, so long since he'd been able to smell the fresh, sweet scents of the nighttime world, so long since he'd felt the wind at his face and gotten to watch the way the tree boughs dappled everything beneath it with the silver light of the white orb hanging full and round in the sky. Gods, he missed having a body. Possessing his host was the only means he had of obtaining a body, and it had been hell to sneak out of the Gryffindor dorm and slip into the courtyard unnoticed. But the quick mind and skilled, nimble movements of an accomplished thief had helped him along, helped him reach the courtyard undetected. And now, he was alone, in the quiet of the night, enjoying being alive, or as close to it as he could get. But his happiness was stunted by his aching heart, he noted dolefully.
"Ryou?"
Bakura's head snapped up, his eyes scanning the night. Who he spotted wading through the shadows of the courtyard made his mind spin in confusion. The aged, sagely face, long silvery beard, glinting half-moon spectacles, sweeping violet robes …
Dumbledore?
"Damn," Bakura swore under his breath. "Busted."
"Not quite, Mr. Bakura," Dumbledore said as he sat down beneath the tree next to the thief. His whispery voice held an air of wisdom and experience, and at the same time, an indescribable mischief that made one shudder. "Might I ask what you are doing out here, this late at night? Or rather, this early in the morning?"
Bakura frowned. "What are you talking about? What time is it?"
"It is nearly quarter of four in the morning, Mr. Bakura."
"… Three hours?" Bakura said more to himself than Dumbledore. Time seemed to have slipped away …
"Pardon?"
"Huh? Oh, nothing. It's just, I can't believe I've been out here for so long."
"Yes, well, I suppose … it's a lot like drinking water after being stranded in the desert for a long time; you just can't get enough of it," Dumbledore said shrewdly.
"What?"
"It's been a long time since you've been alive, hasn't it –"
The thief's eyes widened.
"– Bakura?"
---
Atemu was sitting by the window, looking out at the nearly-full moon. How uncanny, that it would be a full moon on Halloween night, which was the following evening?
The Pharaoh averted his garnet gaze from the glassy pane to Yuugi's bed. He watched the boy's chest rise and fall gently, his eyelids seeming to twitch with a dream. Atemu smiled. Then he turned to Ryou's empty bed, and his smile melted into a thoughtful frown. Bakura had been out for a while now; he'd left a little after midnight. Atemu had tried to talk him out of it. Surely if he was caught he'd get Ryou in trouble.
"Oh come on now, Atemu. Not even you and your prissy royal guards could catch me. There's no way the professors will," Bakura had assured as he'd slipped into Ryou's school robes and sneakers.
"But even so, how does Ryou feel about you taking his body out for a joyride?" the Pharaoh had pointed out.
"He's asleep in his mind chamber. He won't even know; he went to bed, and he'll wake up in the morning without knowing that I snuck out, granted he doesn't awake inside the Ring, which I doubt he will."
"I still don't think it's a good idea …"
"Atemu, don't you ever miss it?"
"Miss what?"
"Being alive. Feeling the cool air on your skin, the wind in your hair, breathing in that peaceful scent of the night, just sitting in tranquility with no duels to play, no insidious plots to stop, no adrenaline, no panic … just you and the world and the heart beating within your breast, left to your own thoughts, with only the heavens for company. Don't you miss it?" Bakura had said with a sad, nostalgic tone.
"Heh, I never knew you were such a poet," Atemu had replied. Then, more seriously, he had said, "You used to do that? Just sit at night, alone and at peace?"
"Yeah. Just climb up to a rooftop or sit in a tree and watch the night sky. I swear the night was never so beautiful as it was hanging over Egypt." Bakura had sighed then, and hiked the collar of Ryou's robes up around his pale neck before disappearing out the door.
Atemu sighed, turning back to the window. No, Bakura, I'd never done that, he thought sadly. I'd never sat on the roof and just enjoyed the night. I was always in my room, in the palace, and the only glimpses I got of the night were through my window.
One night, Atemu decided, he'd ask Yuugi if he could borrow his body to go and sit outside. One night …
---
"How … How'd you …" Bakura was at a loss for words, gaping at the Headmaster, who was grinning through his beard.
"How did I know that you were not Ryou?" Dumbledore gave a small laugh. "Oh, I've been following your stories for a while now, you and the Pharaoh, Ryou, Yuugi, Malik … Isis and Rishid, too, and Seto Kaiba. I know about the Shadow Games, I know about the Millennium Items. They are all simply another branch of magick, Bakura, you see, and I am a knowledgeable wizard. I know well my craft."
Bakura, after recovering from the initial shock, finally found his voice. "… How did you learn of it all?"
"Oh, well …" Dumbledore sat back and folded his hands in his lap. "Yuugi is very popular in Japan, is he not? The 'King of Games', I believe. Well, if you will know, I was in Japan a couple of years back, in Domino, in fact, and they were showing his duel with Mr. Kaiba on the Muggle television. I happened to come upon it, and when I saw that boy and the Millennium Puzzle around his neck, something stirred in my memory. I remembered learning somewhere about the magick of ancient Egypt, the Shadow Games and the like. Well, needless to say, I did my research. I learned all about the Millennium Items and Duel Monsters, got my hands on some rare pieces of documentation telling about the pharaoh who created the Items and sealed the monsters away, along with all the secrets of Shadow Magick. I learned of the two spirits, the pharaoh and the," Dumbledore cast Bakura a sidelong glance, "Thief King trapped within the Millennium Items, the Puzzle and the Ring. I saw that stone tablet in the Domino Museum, the one of Atemu and Set's duel … yes, High Priest Set, Seto Kaiba's past life. I also followed the Duel Monsters tournaments, watched the various characters that fought for possession of the Millennium Items. Pegasus, was one, wasn't he? Ah, and Malik. Mmhm … he had a bit of trouble during that Battle City tournament, didn't he? And you, too, Bakura. I know about your theft of the Millennium Eye –"
Bakura jumped, startled. How did he …?
"– but, don't worry, I won't tell anyone. Those are your affairs to deal with. My part was only in bringing Ryou, Yuugi, and Malik to Hogwarts to open their eyes to the world of magick and perhaps awaken and advance their dormant skills." Dumbledore's tone dropped to a bare whisper so that Bakura had to strain his ears to hear his next words, "I am here for you – any of you – if you need anything at any time. I don't believe it was mere coincidence that I saw Yuugi that day in Japan. You believe in destiny, yes?" Dumbledore nodded curtly and stood, but it was impossible to miss the knowing glint in his eyes. As he began to leave to go back inside, he said, "Oh, and Bakura, please don't stay up much longer. You may be a spirit, but Ryou is human, don't forget, and prone to illness."
"…" Bakura watched Dumbledore fade into the shadows, and it wasn't long until the Headmaster's presence had completely disappeared from the area. All was still again.
Bakura looked up at the moon through the trees. He shivered. Quickly, the tomb robber rose to his feet and retreated to the warmth of the school, hoping whole-heartedly that Ryou didn't catch a cold.
---
The next morning dawned gray and cool, the sky in the Great Hall a sheet of pearly white. Yuugi, Ryou, Hermione, Harry, and Ron could hear the din of the Hall as they made their way down the corridor for breakfast. As soon as they stepped through the doorway, however, the noise died down, and all eyes were turned on the group.
The five students looked around confusedly as they made their ways warily to their seats. The others had stopped watching them, but the usual din of the Hall was now reduced to whispers and murmurs.
"What's wrong with everyone?" Harry asked as he sat down beside Neville. Immediately, his mind jumped to The Daily Prophet. "What has the Ministry said about me this time?" he wondered angrily.
"Actually," Neville answered as he took a bite of his cereal, "it's not about you this time."
"Oh?" Hermione raised her eyebrows inquiringly.
"Yeah." Fred leaned over the table towards Hermione, Harry, and Ron. "It's about Yuugi."
Yuugi gagged on his juice. Recovering quickly, he squeaked, "Me? What did I do?"
George joined the conversation. "According to Malfoy, you're an insane Dark wizard, an undercover servant to the Dark Lord."
"What?" Harry cried, staring incredulously at George. "That's crazy." He turned earnestly to Yuugi. "Isn't it?"
"Of course!" Yuugi answered exasperatedly. "I … I've never even met the Dark Lord, and I don't know any Dark magick!"
"Then why's Malfoy telling everyone that you used Dark magick on him the other day and nearly threw him into some Dark hole?" Fred wondered.
"I …" Yuugi froze, his spoon slipping through his fingers as realization dawned on him. "Yami," he breathed. He turned to Ryou. "They're talking about when Yami opened that portal to the Shadow Realm!" he whispered, aghast.
Ryou shook his head. "But how're we supposed to convince everyone that, A: it wasn't you, and B: it wasn't Dark magick. Although, Shadow Magick, I guess, in a way, is dark magick, but not the kind they're thinking of."
Yuugi groaned. "I don't know."
That was when the small boy noticed everyone staring warily at him, including Harry, Ron, and Hermione. How was he supposed to get them to trust him? How could he explain what had really happened? This was not good, not good at all.
Finally, Hermione spoke. "Well, Yuugi, I don't know what happened yesterday, though, from what I saw, I wouldn't find it hard to believe if the rumors were true." As Yuugi opened his mouth to protest, Hermione continued, "But, I know you well enough to say that I doubt you're a servant of the Dark Lord. Although, I would like to know what's going on, like I told Ryou yesterday." Hermione looked pointedly at the said white-haired boy. "You said you'd talk it over with Malik and Yuugi, Ryou. Well, are you going to tell us what's going on or not?"
Yuugi asked Ryou, "What's she talking about?"
Ryou flushed sheepishly. He'd forgotten to tell Yuugi about what had transpired after he'd retreated to the dorm. Moreover, he'd forgotten to talk with his friends about whether or not they should let the others in on the little secrets they were keeping. Well, maybe 'forgotten' wasn't the right word. More like, 'had been preoccupied at the time'. He grinned at the thought as his mind flashed on Malik and the Ravenclaw common room. The Ravenclaw couch was much comfier than the one in Gryffindor tower.
As if on que, Malik appeared behind Ryou and snaked his arms lovingly around the boy's neck, bending down to rest his chin on Ryou's head. Yuugi looked up at the blonde. "Hey Malik," he greeted, though his voice was void of its usual cheeriness.
"Yuugi, what's up?" Malik asked worriedly.
"You've heard the rumors, haven't you?" Yuugi asked.
Malik grimaced. "Oh, yeah … that. Look, they're just rumors; they'll blow over eventually."
"Not these, they won't," Ron chimed in. "This is Hogwarts, mate. Rumors spread like wildfire and are just as damaging."
Malik removed himself from Ryou and sat down beside the boy. No one had really seemed to pick up on their atypical affectionateness, which was, at the moment, probably for the best.
"Malik," Hermione said, "have you three talked about it yet?"
"What?" Malik replied. "Oh, you mean about what happened yesterday, with you wanting to know what's going on?" He, like Ryou, flushed. "Uh … no, we kinda … forgot."
"Forgot what?" Yuugi still wanted to know.
"We'll explain later, Yuug," Ryou answered.
Meanwhile, Atemu and Bakura were in the corridor outside the Hall. Both were feeling a little out of sorts, though neither knew why. It wasn't a bad feeling, it was just sort of … strange. But they pushed the inexplicable sensations aside.
"So, did you have a nice time outside last night?" the Pharaoh inquired.
"Yeah," Bakura replied thoughtfully. "But, something peculiar happened."
"Oh?"
The thief nodded and recounted everything that had happened with Dumbledore. Once he'd finished, Atemu was looking slightly disconcerted.
"I don't know whether that's encouraging or disturbing," he murmured.
"Same here."
That was when students started to file out of the Great Hall. Some, oddly enough, seemed to look straight at the spirits, who were standing against the wall, waiting for their hosts, as though they could see them. But the stares were always quickly averted, the student always blinking or shaking their head disbelievingly. Eventually, Draco and his gang stepped through the doorway. He was talking rather importantly, the people around him hanging on his every word.
Atemu and Bakura strained to hear what he was saying.
"Really, it was quite frightening. I could've died, been tossed into some Dark dimension. That Yuugi and his friends are nothing but trouble. No doubt they're working for the Dark Lord …" The rest of Draco's words were lost as he moved down the corridor.
Atemu and Bakura traded nervous glances. This was not good.
---
Murmurs, whispers, and stares followed Yuugi around all day. By lunchtime, as Ron had predicted, the entire school knew about the events of yesterday. The tales ranged from Yuugi roughing Draco up a bit to him nearly casting the Killing Curse, but either way every rumor was far from the truth. Some people – Gryffindors, mostly – kept grinning at the small boy and giving him thumbs up for standing up to "that Slytherin git", while everyone else just kept their distances.
Yuugi sighed as he sank onto a stone bench in the courtyard that evening after Defense Against the Dark Arts. "This has got to have been the worst day," Yuugi moaned as he put his head in his hands.
Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ryou sat down around him. Atemu and Bakura were not too far away, Atemu feeling as guilty as ever.
"This is all my fault," he said, drifting towards his partner.
Bakura followed. "Oh Ra, will you stop wallowing?" he growled.
As the spirits neared the group of students, Ryou looked up at Bakura, who automatically scowled down at him as he passed. Atemu sat down next to Yuugi and put his hand on the boy's shoulder. Yuugi looked up.
"Aibou … I'm sorry about … everything that I did yesterday," Atemu said quietly.
Before Yuugi could respond, everyone gasped. The tri-color-haired boy and the two spirits looked around inquiringly. Hermione, Ron, Harry, and even Ryou were staring at Atemu with wide-eyed, gaping expressions.
"Wh-Who's that?" Hermione asked, pointing at Atemu.
Yuugi blinked. He stared at Atemu, who stared back. "Uh … who's who?" Yuugi asked.
"That … That man sitting next to you … he … he looks just like you," Hermione answered shakily.
"You … can see me?" Atemu wondered, shocked, his ruby eyes wide.
"Of course we can see you … why wouldn't we be able to?" Ron said.
Atemu scratched the back of his head. "Because … I don't have a physical body."
Bakura shook his head and looked up to the darkening sky where already a ghostly image of the full moon was appearing. A full moon on Halloween … What were the odds?
---
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were seated on the couch in the abandoned common room, Crookshanks curled contently on his master's lap, purring softly. Yuugi and Ryou were sitting in the large, cushiony chairs opposite the couch, and Malik was standing at the hearth, his back against the wall, arms crossed. As soon as the group had left the courtyard, Ryou had went to fetch Malik, who was most likely at the Great Hall. After being pulled away from the feast, Malik had followed Ryou upstairs to the Gryffindor tower. A fire crackled merrily in the fireplace. It's cheer seemed unaffected by the tense, awkward atmosphere. Atemu and Bakura were beside their respective hosts, Atemu sitting on the arm of Yuugi's chair and Bakura sitting on … well, sitting on Ryou, stretched out across his lap, to be precise, back against one armrest, legs crossed over the other. Hermione, Ron, and Harry were aghast at the audacity of the white-haired spirit, to simply sit on Ryou without the boy's consent, but, then again, none of them really knew Bakura, now did they?
The said trio were staring at the two spirits. And yes, they could see them, just as clearly as their hosts could see them. What was more, Malik could see them, and Yuugi and Ryou could see each other's yamis, not just their own. And everyone could hear the spirits, as well. It was as if Atemu and Bakura solidly existed on the physical plane, and weren't hindered by the veil that separated the Shadow Realm and Earth.
The room was quiet, save for the fire's crackling and Crookshanks' purring. It had been quiet for the past five minutes. The rest of the Gryffindors were down at dinner, but no one present in the common room felt sorry for missing the Halloween feast. This, they decided, was much more important. They could always have Dobby sneak them some food if they got hungry, but at the moment all appetites had been depleted with the startling revelation.
Finally, Bakura spoke in his harsh, snappy tone. "So are we just going to sit here, or what? Though, I shouldn't complain; I'm quite comfy. Did you know that, Yadonushi? You're as comfortable as any chair. Even more so." He smirked and Ryou flushed angrily, though the boy said nothing.
"Well," Yuugi said, "where do we begin?"
"How about," Harry offered, "telling us who the hell these two are."
"Oh, well," Yuugi looked up at his yami, "this is Yami."
"Pharaoh Atemu, to be more exact," Atemu added. "Thousands of years ago, I was the king of Egypt. I created the Millennium Items, and locked away the ancient secrets of Shadow Magick so that no one could ever again use it for evil."
"'Shadow Magick'?" Harry echoed.
"Yes. Shadow Magick is … well … control over the Shadow Realm and its inhabitants, namely the Duel Monsters. And the powers of the Millennium Items, those are also forms of Shadow Magick," the Pharaoh elaborated.
"What's the Shadow Realm?" Ron wondered.
"The Shadow Realm is a plane that coexists with this one," Atemu answered.
Instinctively, Harry turned to Hermione. "What's he talking about?"
"I think what he means is … how can I explain this … well, picture our world … picture Earth." Hermione held up her fist for demonstration. "Now, picture another world," she covered her fist with her other hand, "over ours. That is the Shadow Realm. The Shadow Realm, I suppose, is another term for the Faerie Realm or the Spirit World or the Astral Plane. I've read a few books on it, books that explain about astral projection and communication with the spirits. You see, this other realm – the Shadow Realm, the Faerie Realm, the Spirit World, the Astral Plane, whatever you want to call it – coexists with ours, but is separated by a veil, which keeps our world and the other from clashing."
"Exactly," Atemu said. "You see, Bakura and I exist in the Shadow Realm when we're not inside our Items or possessing our hosts, and only our hosts and other spirits can see us through the veil. Spirits exist everywhere, and not just spirits like us, but elemental spirits of sorts, like the salamanders, which control the element of Fire, the undines, for Water, the sylphs, for Air, and the gnomes, for Earth. There are also four guardians that protect the veil, each one standing guard at a cardinal point. Each culture, like with all mythology, has its own version of who the guardians are."
"In the books that I read, they're known as the four archangels, Gabriel, Rafael, Michael, and Uriel," Hermione said. "Gabriel is the archangel of Water and guards the West point, Rafael of Fire, guards the South, Michael of Earth, guards the North, and Uriel of Air, guards the East. Were these guardians nonexistent, then entities of all sorts could slip through the veil both ways, and that would be a disaster of catastrophic proportions, possibly causing the end of the universe. The veil keeps order between the worlds, and the guardians protect the veil. Everything is all about balance and harmony, whether its between Good and Evil, Heaven and Hell, Light and Dark, or Earth and the Shadow Realm. Without balance there would be … nothing."
"You are quite insightful, Hermione," Atemu noted.
She blushed. "Oh … well … I … you know –"
"I think I understand," Harry said. Ron nodded vaguely, his head still spinning with all the information. "So, you explained about the Millennium Items a while back, I remember that, and you talked about Duel Monsters, and now you told us about the Shadow Realm and Shadow Magick. But, who's he?" Harry asked, pointing towards Bakura.
"I'm the almighty Ruler of the Universe."
Ron's eyebrows rose. "Really?"
"Yeah, now bow down." Bakura pointed at the floor, looking pointedly at the redhead.
"No, he's Bakura," Atemu said with a dismissive wave of his hand.
"That's Thief King Bakura," the white-haired spirit snapped indignantly.
"'Thief King'?" Hermione repeated incredulously.
"Yes. Tell them, Atemu, tell them how you could never catch me, no matter how hard you and your pathetic guards tried. I evaded you for years. I was the Thief King, accomplished tomb robber, master of the –"
"Okay, Bakura," Atemu interrupted. "I think they get the point."
"So you were a tomb robber, eh?" Ron asked.
Bakura grunted. "The best of the best, don't forget."
"And you live in the Millennium Ring, like the Pharaoh lives in the Puzzle?" Harry said.
"I suppose you could say that," Bakura answered.
"And you're Ryou's … what was it? His yami? Yeah, you're Ryou's yami, like Atemu is Yuugi's?" Harry asked.
The thief nodded.
"Well," Hermione murmured, "this explains a lot. What I don't understand, though, is why we can suddenly see you, while you've been here all along."
"No one could see us earlier today, either," Bakura pointed out.
"No, I think they could," Atemu contradicted, "just not clearly, or not consistently. I think we'd flicker through the veil, or our images would be hazy."
"The veil …" Hermione mumbled.
"But what about in classes? No one saw us then."
"We didn't really attend the classes today. We were either in the hallways or in the courtyard, remember?" Atemu reminded. "The only classes we were at today were History of Magick and Potions."
Hermione was still muttering to herself. "The veil … ah!" She jumped up excitedly, Crookshanks leaping off her lap with an irritated yowl. "What's today?"
"October thirty-first," Yuugi replied. "Why?"
"It's Halloween!" Hermione gasped.
"You just realized that?" Harry cocked an eyebrow.
"No, no, I knew that, it's just … Halloween … All Hollow's Eve … Samhain …" She began pacing, tapping her chin thoughtfully as her mind began to reel.
"Sow-what?" Ron asked.
Hermione looked up. "Hmm? Oh! Samhain."
"Soween?" Harry repeated, pronouncing the word as Hermione had.
She nodded. "Yes. On the traditional witch's calendar, Samhain – October thirty-first – is one of the four major Sabbats. The Sabbats are also called the Quarter and Cross-Quarter Days, and they follow the path of the sun through the year. There are eight Sabbats in a year. The Quarter Days are the Winter and Summer Solstices and the Spring and Autumn Equinoxes. The Cross-Quarter Days fall halfway between Each Solstice or Equinox. For example, Samhain is a Cross-Quarter Day that falls halfway between the Autumn Equinox and the Winter Solstice. Each Sabbat is celebrated by the traditional witches in different ways, and each Sabbat is significant to certain types of magick or rituals. Samhain is a particularly powerful day, good for all types of magick, particularly astral travel, ancestral and faerie communication, shapeshifting, and honoring the dead, and this is all because on Samhain," Hermione's eyes glinted as she looked from Atemu to Bakura, "the veil between the Spirit World and the physical plane is at its weakest."
---
---
So? Did everyone understand? I hope so! Oh, and FYI, I DID NOT make any of that stuff up about the Faerie Realm or the guardians or Samhain. You can find books or websites anywhere on all that stuff; it's really interesting to read about. Oh, and the part at breakfast, the sentence that said:
"The Ravenclaw couch was much comfier than the one in Gryffindor tower."
Anyone who picked up on the innuendo, Malik and Ryou didn't do anything extreme, if anyone was thinking that. Just making-out, if you must know, on the couch in the Ravenclaw common room (while there wasn't anyone around, of course). Well, this is TBC, and I promise that I'll get some more HarryxDraco-ness in the following chapters. For those of you that wanted Atemu and Bakura to play matchmaker, I'm working on it! Oh, and I want to thank all of those non-yaoi fans who've stuck with my story despite the yaoi-ness. I hope you like it! I hope even more that you'll come to like yaoi! Yae for YAOI! XD Hehe, okay I'm done.
---
---