Authoress Notes That Can Be Skipped Without Great Consequence

Ah yes, the best for last. The longest for last (it'll be another chapter before we're finished here). I give you….Atemu's Class of Doom.

Well, not really of doom, per say….more of a 'Let the rest of the world run screaming' sort of class in which I take a brave stab at the art of Keeping Atemu In Character. Halfway through I was about ready to give up and make him dance around wearing nothing buy Dobby's tea cozy and see what kind of reviews I'd get.

By the by, I'll probably go back and start editing the beginning chapters now – they're starting to bother me. Really bother me.

Also, I'd like to formally apologize to anyone I offended in the last Authoress Note section. I have nothing against Texas or the people there! And if it makes you feel better, at least three little children ran up to me while I was there and said something to the effect of, "Why do you talk so funny?"

Disclaimer: As my darling Chelley Angel put it: Saying I own anything from here is like saying that the ocean is purple because of the leopards. It's just not right.

Two Pseudo Corpses

Crash.

"Mr. Bakura, please stay put! You're bleeding all over my office!" Madame Pomfrey stood in the middle of her infirmary, shooting stunning spells at a quickly moving target – who, she had to admit, was dodging rather well, considering the gaping headwound.

However, just because he avoided her spells didn't mean he avoided any of the breakable objects in the room. She rather suspected he was aiming for them just to goad her into being even more irate than she already was.

Thump. Crash-Crash-Bang.

"Get away from me, you crazy old hag!" snarled Bakura. "You're not coming anywhere near me with that glop!"

"It's just a simple healing potion!"

"It tastes like shit!" retorted Bakura, crashing into a large table of beakers, shattering them on the floor. "And common sense tells me to not drink it!"

The door to the ward opened slowly, and Mokuba and Kurama stepped in, ducking as potion from the broken beakers flew over their heads.

Mokuba looked on in horror. "'Kura, what are you doing?"

"Avoiding the psychopathic nurse!"

"She's just trying to help!"

"Is not!" growled Bakura with conviction, "She's trying to kill me!"

Mokuba tugged on one of his black locks of hair (a nervous habit he'd developed somewhere along the line) and turned to Kurama. "Alright, you get Yusuke. I'm going for Atemu. Meet back in two minutes?"

Kurama nodded and disappeared from the infirmary. Mokuba sighed and walked away at a slower pace towards Atemu's room, hopeful the school's nurse knew how stay out of the way of overly-excitable patients.

The four met back in record time, Kurama almost bodily dragging Yusuke, Mokuba being led at a dash by Atemu.

"Alright, we've got to do this quickly – I've got a class to teach in five minutes," whispered Atemu outside the thick oak door entering to the infirmary. "So on the count of three, I'll bind him, you stun him. Be careful not to -"

"Three!" shouted an impatient Yusuke, and flung open the door.

"Swords of Revealing Light!"

"Spirit Gun!"

Bakura fell over, stock still, a bright blue and purple haze surrounding him. Four bishonen let out sighs of relief, the other laying in a comatose form.

Atemu turned to Yusuke, eye twitching. "You have absolutely no respect for timing, do you, Yusuke?"

"Do too! You were taking to long!"

"That doesn't count as a sense of timing. That counts as undermining authority."

"How the hell are you authority?"

"As pharaoh of both upper and lower Egypt, I ruled over legions of –"

"Yeah, you can shut up now."

Mokuba rolled his eyes at the two quarrelers, and spotted a quivering tuft of gray hair showing over a nearby desk. "Um, Madame Pomfrey? You can come out now. He should be knocked out for a good three hours."

The nurse promptly stood up and bustled to her patient, potion bottle in hand. "Yes, well, as a precaution, I'm giving him a sedative with the concussion potion. Please…" she continued, looking a bit flustered, "Please refrain from doing that again. You may have increased his head injury."

Mokuba could have sworn he heard Atemu mutter something along the lines of, 'Can't get any worse than it already is…'

"Finally," breathed Ron as the Golden Trio made their way towards the Defense classroom. "A normal subject. Defense Against the Dark Arts is one of those classes you can count on."

"Count on to be weird, you mean?" queried Harry.

"Yes, well, you can still count on it," mused Ron. "Whaddya think they've given us this year? A vampire? You-Know-Who's son? Snape's brother-in-law? A guy who can turn into a dragon on his own free will?"

Harry opened the door and held it as the other two made their way inside. "Nah, I think he'll be a convict from another planet. Pluto, maybe."

Hermione rolled her eyes at the two as they took their seats. "Honestly, do you have to go in suspecting the worst? He's probably a perfectly nice person who's perfectly qualified to teach."

"Ah, well, that rules out the relation to Snape, now doesn't it?" said Harry wisely as Ron laughed – and he saw the faint twitches of a smile on Hermione's face as well, though she hid it as she dived for her textbook, the bell ringing in their ears.

This room, as most of the others had been, was redecorated to suit the Professor's choosing. Gold seemed to be the predominant color – chairs, tables, several staircases that lead to nowhere, the chandelier, the background colors of the walls; everything was a sparkling golden color. The vaulted ceiling, however, was the largest mosaic Harry had ever seen; depicting primarily a 'family' of people dressed in battle uniforms, each holding staffs with blackened magical waves coming out of them that rippled in the light. Scattered around them were other creatures – some taking on the appearance of those that Professor Lupin had helped them learn to defeat in third year, many that Harry could not place.

Not that they stayed inside long enough for anyone to analyze them – Professor Moto appeared mere seconds after the bell (looking rather perturbed about something) and ordered the entire class outside, which was met by a round of excited whispers after the demonstration in their last class. Two minutes of brisk walking across the grounds had led them directly to the base the Forbidden Forest.

"I need you all to form into groups of two or three within the next," Atemu glanced at the watch on his forearm, "Thirty seconds. Don't be afraid to merge your groups with members from both houses."

"Bloody insane, that's what he is," whispered Ron as the golden trio grouped together. "Since when does any Gryffindor mix with Slytherin house?"

Harry blinked. "Since Mokuba, apparently." He pointed to the young black-haired boy approaching Malfoy.

Hermione's bushy hair whipped around, searching for the younger Kaiba. "What do you mean, since - Oh no," she whispered, "Oh no-no-no-no. I must have given him the wrong impression. This is not good…."

"What do you mean, gave him the wrong impression?" Harry whispered frantically. "What did you do, kiss Malfoy in front of him or something?"

"Oh, bloody hell!" she spat, and began running towards the two as quickly as she could.

Ron looked bewildered. "She didn't, did she?"

Harry shook his head in disbelief. "Ron, you're an idiot sometimes, you know that?"

"Thirty seconds are up!" called Atemu, freezing Hermione from her tirade across the grass as Mokuba and Draco nodded to each other, Draco waving off Crabbe and Goyle.

"I've cleared out a small portion of this wonderful forest," Atemu gestured behind him, "Of any creatures of dark orientation above the fifth year level. Consider this a sort of review without paperwork." He grinned, "I assumed you'd prefer it this way."

People all about the group nodded, and Hermione rejoined Harry and Ron, still watching Mokuba and Draco out of the corner of her eye. Atemu continued, "We'll be conducting a sort of treasure hunt throughout the forest. Botan will be keeping watch from the skies," he scanned the sky above him, and sighed as he saw no blue haired oar rider above him, "Assuming she gets here before we start, of course. I will remain here to meet you when you complete your hunt. You'll be looking for five flags, one each representing water, fire, earth, wind, and metal. Please avoid killing anything within the forest – we'd like the occupants to allow us in another time or two."

Hermione glanced worriedly over at Draco and Mokuba as Malfoy smirked at the last comment, whispering something to Mokuba.

Atemu paused in his speech as Botan landed with a cheeky grin. "Alright, everyone, wands out!" he called, and stepped away from the first block of trees. "If you find yourself in trouble, shoot up red sparks and Botan will retrieve you. Do not pass anything that looks like a warding wall – beyond those will be creatures you are unqualified to handle." Another smirk graced Malfoy's face. "You may now enter the forest."

The students stood where they were, holding their breaths and still unsure as to whether entering was a wise idea. Atemu sighed and shook his head regretfully. "Fine – first ones back will receive extra credit."

Hermione's eyes were ablaze as she grabbed Harry and Ron, dragging them into the forest at a speed the other students hadn't known she'd possessed.

"You notice," mused Draco after putting up a protection shield that fit around the both of them, "That he never specified we couldn't attack other students."

Mokuba smiled, feeling slightly out of place already in the forest. "Atemu has an affinity of leaving questions open-ended. He likes to think that it leaves people with more options." He blasted a quick "Stupefy!" at an oncoming sprite, sending the thing flying into a clump of trees.

"You haven't got any clue as to where he placed these flags, do you?"

Mokuba shook his head. "Not any more than you do – sorry. Though I'll bet that just about any group of Gryffindors we pass will let us know…the whole lot seems to be overly trusting," he responded sourly.

Draco turned to stare at him quizzically. "Why weren't you placed in Slytherin?"

"Why weren't you placed in Gryffindor?" was the quick retort.

Malfoy's eyes widened. "Excuse me? My family has proudly upheld Slytherin tradition for generations, and you dare –"

Mokuba waved his hands frantically in a gesture of peace. "No, really! The houses aren't that different, actually. I'll bet you that if we asked Ron why he wasn't in Slytherin, he'd give almost that same response, without the whole Malfoy-family-pride bit. The houses are known for aggression and ambition – it just seems that Slytherin has a bit more ambition and a better sense of real-world views -plus an undying hatred for muggles and those with muggle heritage."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "Mudbloods, you mean? Yes, well – it rather comes with the territory. Showing any sort of support for them within Slytherin automatically rids you of popularity, and thus, power."

"Which is, of course, the most important thing to anyone in Slytherin," stated Mokuba in a drawling manner.

"Precisely," responded Draco firmly.

Mokuba seemed to hesitate before posing his next question, staring at a nondescript piece of foliage gracing the mossy ground. "….So how is it you're so friendly with Hermione in my brother's class?"

Mokuba quickly found himself thrown up against a tree with an unknown spell, pinned there in one swift motion from a livid Draco; the Protego that had been cast around them gone. His hands shook as he spat out, "Let's get some things straight, Kaiba." He spat out the name of the still-calm black-haired boy as if it were poison, and the careless expression on the other's face served only to anger him further. "First of all, don't you ever mention that. Ever. While beneficial in class, outside those walls it could be deadly. Second of all, you'll notice that there is not one Slytherin inside that group of students – not one. Think strategically, if you will. And lastly," his hands shook, finely manicured nails digging into his palms so ferociously blood dripped from them, "Lastly, I'm not-"

"Mokuba!"

"Petrificus Totalus!"

"Stupefy!"

Draco whipped around to face the doubled jets of light, unprotected without a Protego in place, and stood rigid as the spells hit him, crashing to the ground in a state of unconsciousness.

Harry rushed up first, worry alighting his face as Ron spoke a counterspell to detach him from the tree. "Mokuba! Mokuba, are you alright?"

A cold glaze came over the black-haired boy's face, and he stared straight into Harry's eyes, ignoring a distanced Hermione. "You imbecilic, condescending bastards. You can't see what's right in front of your own nose, can you? Damn Gryffindor pride!"

He turned and disappeared into the foliage without making a sound. Within seconds a purple haze descended over Draco's body, which rose to float in Mokuba's direction like an eerie, lifeless corpse.

The members of the Golden Trio were too stunned to follow.

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