What do you do when practising social distancing (that you don't already do) during coronavirus? Write, write and write XD

This update was earlier than planned but I'm making good progress on this story and it may even extend a chapter or two. This part decided to split itself into two chapters. Next chapter will be up 27th March, just to be on the safe side, however.

Also apologies that the original upload here didn't have any notes! Forgot to add them, took me a couple of hours to realise!

Anyhow, please enjoy!

WARNING: Marik's perspective this chapter describes child abuse, both referenced and explicitly stated. If this may trigger you, please refrain from reading. There are also some referenced gore within that section as well.

To avoid confusion:

Words Yami speaking mentally

Words Yugi speaking mentally

"Words" Characters speaking Japanese

"Words" Characters speaking Ancient Egyptian

"Words" Characters speaking Arabic

"Words" Characters speaking Akkadian

"Words" Characters speaking Old English

The Hospital Wing was quiet at this time of night, save for the rasping breaths of one of its occupants. Kaiba sat in equal silence, watching the slow rise and fall of Atem's chest, not even his laptop at the ready. It irked him usually, to sit and waste time doing nothing, but this was different. This was watching, waiting, a game he had swore to have no part in, until his blasted black heart betrayed him once again.

Not even Mahad was here to keep him company.

Akhefia was around somewhere. Probably skulking the corridors, keeping the heinous toad away. Unlike Kaiba, he had seen this before, had been prepared where Seto had panicked, ready to perform the task he had been assigned since Atem's Father had taken him in. So, alone Seto sat, waiting.

Snape had left, leaving what potions he thought could help and nothing more. They sat winking lightly in the moonlight. Atem's usually tan features were pale, bleached by the light as well as blood loss. Even Madam Pomfrey had been bewildered by that fact, arguing to call St Mungo's, that this was far too adavanced for her. Instead, a witch from the Egyptian Ministry had been called. She cast a few perfunctory spells, but, like Bill and the others, she already knew what was wrong. And then came the crushing blow.

"It is a matter of months. Perhaps 6 if we are lucky." The woman had pressed her lips together. "I'm sorry." Seto wasn't entirely sure who she had aimed that at. Pomfrey had gasped, going so far as to drop her wand, McGonnagal, who had been called as Atem's Head of House, paled and Snape had had no visible reaction other than to glance down slightly to where Nofret sat curled in a corner. Seto himself had just sat in numb silence.

He still felt numb.

I'm so sorry, Set, whispered the now familiar voice. It seemed he would never be free of her. Part of him was glad, as he sat this silent vigil. An unpleasantly not unfamiliar vigil. I wish there was something more I could do.

"Isn't there?" he whispered into the shadows, not moving his eyes at all. He didn't need to, to know that a specific card within his deck was glowing.

Not for this, she returned sadly. Healing magic was never a part of my skills. You know this. He did. He wished he didn't, wished he could be fooled into believing that she could, that it would all be better somehow. But futile wishes had always eluded him.

"What do I tell Mokuba?" he groaned out loud. Mokuba had been ecstatic, had written his own letters to a bemused Atem, had greeted him just as enthusiastically as Yugi's stupid friends. And now, he had to explain that not even that would last. Just like I couldn't protect him from the mess our father left us in, Seto thought, irritated. Try as he might, the past just would not stay dead.

And neither could his heart, it seemed.

I will stay with you, she whispered and Seto felt himself pulled close to a body that was not quite there. If you need sleep, I will watch over him. I swore to protect you and those you love. I will never leave you.

"I know you won't Kisara," Seto sighed, eyes still fixed on the body in front of him. A pause and then, "How has Haphiri taken the news?" He didn't like the silence, nor the tightening of the phantom grip around him. Gold dug into his fingers as his left hand gripped the head of the Rod tighter. He hadn't even realised he was holding it. Had it been out the whole time or had he pulled it out once more when the others left? "Kisara, where is she?"

Mourning Mnenosene. I do not think she knows. Grief and anger hit Seto like a truck, but he pushed it away. This was his duty, his responsibility. Dead the Princess might be, but that did not stop one from forgetting their own children. If she wasn't careful, she would miss something in her grief.

Staring at the dark stains on the navy robe thrown haphazardly over a chair, Seto was quietly afraid that she already had.

Despite the raging headache left over from having a part of Voldemort's soul apparently removed from his skull, Harry was still pacing the Common Room hours later, having recited the events to Ron and Hermione. It was late enough now that the Common Room was deserted and Hermione, at Harry's request, had erected enough muffling and silencing charms it was highly unlikely anyone would have heard the conversation even if there had been a party in full swing right now.

"And that's why I think that Professor Schiavone might have something of a point," Harry finished, glancing at the fire before turning away. It flickered too much like the torches in the dungeons and he could still see the outline of blood on runes from whatever had happened to Atem. And while Yugi might not be saying anything until the morning, it didn't stop Harry from guessing. Hermione was pale.

"You're sure it was the same knife?" she asked in a small voice. Harry nodded.

"But Yugi has always been adamant that the spirit in his Puzzle isn't a threat. That and Dumbledore wouldn't be allowing them to stay in the castle if there was an actual problem," Ron added. He was wide-eyed, fiddling with a chess piece. The pawn didn't look particularly happy and kept poking his fingers but Harry didn't think Ron noticed.

Probably a good thing he had already put the knight away.

"I don't think the spirit in the Puzzle is the issue," Harry tried to explain. "I suppose… it hasn't actually done anything wrong. And, well, I was wrong about Yugi being possessed by it." Very wrong if everything he had seen in the soul room and labyrinth had actually happened and wasn't the result of some weird fever dream.

"So, if Yugi isn't possessed and the Spirit isn't evil, where does that leave Haphiri?" Hermione asked quietly. Ron scowled, the pawn yelping as his fingers tightened around it.

"Nothing good," Ron stated grimly. "Probably been playing the long game all this time and got her sister in on it too. If she even is her sister." Harry flopped into a chair, exhausted. It looked as if he wasn't the only one to have come to that conclusion.

"Yugi didn't want to talk about it," he muttered, staring into the fire. He could still see it, blood just dripping off it innocuously, as if it hadn't turned everything on its head. "But I think he thought so too."

"You don't know that," Hermione argued quietly, "But I can see where you are coming from. That dagger, the story, Ron's theory…" She bit her lip. "It all matches up."

"So, what do we do about it? The Tomb Keepers aren't going to listen to us after we went through Yugi's stuff. And she's got Bill too," Ron stated, finally remembering to put the poor pawn down. It scampered off into the box, bemoaning its fate to its fellow pawns.

The last thing we need is another member of Ron's family to end up a victim in all of this, Harry thought, feeling sick. He couldn't even find it in himself to be mad about that. It was odd- ever since he had gotten back from the dungeons it was as if all his anger was gone, and nothing but an empty void remained. No one had said anything about that.

"You said that Yugi was going to talk tomorrow?" Hermione asked. Harry nodded in lieu of talking. His head was truly pounding now, too many thoughts tumbling through his exhausted and overworked brain. "Then we'll have to get him to talk first thing in the morning. This is something they need to be aware of." She didn't say anything further but Harry could agree. After all, what would they do if Haphiri really did mean harm to either Yugi, or more worryingly, Atem?

Raphael tried not to twitch as a certain pink toad sat next to him within the Staff Room. It was oddly bare for once- both Snape and McGonnagal were working with Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing, taking care of a critically ill student, Sprout was working in the Greenhouses and Flitwick was marking a stack of papers in the corner. The rest of the school staff were either in their offices, or out at the pub since it was a weekend and were enjoying their time off to relax. He had no such time for leisure: there was a pending investigation into Enheduanna's attack on him.

Dartz had been pleased with the riot that had caused.

It took a mere couple of hours after he had woken for Umbridge to descend on him, much as she had here. The worthless Ministry were looking for any excuse to push back against the recent pressure foreign Ministries were placing on them after the last incident. The Egyptian Ministry claimed they had no jurisdiction over the actions of an Akkadian ghost, ministries in the Middle East adamant that since she was buried in Egypt it was their problem, and the British Ministry had been quick to call out their barbarism yet again. That went down like a ton of bricks everywhere, backed by the Tomb Keepers, who offered to help place wards around the school as a temporary measure while they bickered among themselves.

Someone had stopped that before it got very far. Even so, the Preistess had made herself scarce and Dartz had quietly removed a few souls that no one would notice were gone. After all, it was hardly as if anyone would need a Misuse of Muggle Artefacts office when the world was right once again.

The downside was having to be in close contact with the leech currently making herself at home next to him. Raphael sipped his coffee, imagining the day his master would allow him to take the vile woman's soul.

"Ah, Professor Schiavone, how are you?" Umbridge simpered, mixing a sickening amount of sugar into her teacup. Raphael took a bracing gulp of coffee.

"As fine as the last time we spoke," he noted dryly. "How are things going at the Ministry?" Umbridge fiddled uselessly with the tea service.

"Ah, well, that barbaric Ministry is putting so much stress on Fudge. You are certain that there is nothing your benefactors can do?" Nothing that you would like, Raphael thought sardonically. He glanced towards Eatos who hovered nervously in the corner. Something was going on with her, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Ever since the attack she had been both more and less protective of him, frightened and worried by something within the castle. He had tried to reassure her: the Nameless Pharaoh would hold no sway over her anymore.

The words had gained him nothing but a saddened look.

"I'm afraid they have helped as much as they are able," Raphael said pointedly. "It is up to the Ministry of Magic here to get someone to own up to the blame. Surely your own people can track down who would be able to pin her down. An Unspeakable perhaps?" The words were Dartz's. There was one Unspeakable he wanted to draw out, a soul no one would notice was missing but vital for the Leviathan. Umbridge considered this a moment.

"Hmm, yes, you're right. I think I know just the person. I'm sure Mr Weasley would be able to help us contact her?" Umbridge noted, raising her voice as said red-head wandered into the room. The man paused, dark circles ringing his eyes, pale. He frowned when he looked at them.

"Is there something you wanted, Inquisitor?" Since he was not technically staff, Bill Weasley had never called the woman 'Professor'. In the very brief yet vicious conversation he had had with the man when he had first arrived in the castle, Raphael had gotten the sense that he thought much worse of her than merely 'Toad'.

Raphael would have to word his argument carefully from here on out.

"Yes, we were just speaking about the unfortunate incident that befell Professor Schiavone earlier this week. You recall this, yes?" Bill scowled, remaining standing.

"I remember. Kheftan has made it clear that the Tomb Keepers have barred the Princess from further action within the castle until proper punishment can be arranged," he said slowly. Raphael filed that away- the man had been present with Minister Hakmit and seemed in charge of the Tomb Keepers behind Akhnankhamun. Apparently, they had missed someone in the chain.

"Yes, I am aware that your work with these… er, people, would give you certain bias'," Umbridge said about as delicately as a hippo dancing ballet. "However, it is simply unacceptable that both yourself and Dumbledore have allowed such a travesty to occur within these very walls! Why, if she had decided to attack one of the children!" Bill narrowed his eyes.

"I spoke with Professor Schiavone about the perils of teaching his subject. The children were never in danger of the Princess. History forgets, she was after all a mother herself once." A mother to degenerates, Raphael thought, and forced into that marriage besides. He didn't say it out loud however.

"Motherhood is not a guarantee of care over children," Umbridge stated matter-of-factly. "And the longer she goes unpunished, the more danger we are in. I was wondering if, perhaps, you would be able to put us in contact with Miss Smallwood? You were close friends within the Ministry Cursebreaker Course were you not?" Bill's eyes narrowed further.

"Considering that she currently works within your own Ministry, you would be in a better position to approach her than I." Raphael could see that this was going nowhere.

"I am in need of an unbiased party," he said carefully. "Professor Umbridge has been kind enough to think of someone appropriate who might be able to be removed from the situation with the relevant knowledge." It was an argument that Bill couldn't refute- thanks to Malfoy and his many contacts within the British Ministry, the Egyptain Ministry was looking at a losing battle. And now, with the delay in justice growing with each passing day, it was only a matter of time before the situation imploded on itself.

"I will write her a letter," Bill conceded, "but I make no promises that she will help. Her expertise is different to mine and she can be a bit… odd, to people who don't know her." Odd to wizards, Raphael snorted mentally. Says the man who threatened us with death without knowing who we were. He said nothing more however, merely nodding his head, allowing the man to leave. Umbridge caught his sleeve however.

"Ah, and please pass on the Minister's sympathies to the Tomb Keepers. Such a shame, to lose a young life so early." Bill froze, Umbridge's smile sharp as knives, her eyes glittering with undisguised glee.

"He isn't dead yet," Bill stated gravely, tugging his arm from her grip. "And should His Highness die on school property, you can be sure that it won't just be the Egyptian Ministry calling for a full investigation." Raphael blinked. Umbridge settled back into her chair, shrugging.

"You have no need to worry about such barbaric behaviours from a civilised Ministry," Umbridge said, sipping her tea primly. "Such a tragedy to lose two of its leaders so close together, whether it comes in the next few weeks or months. It is only a matter of time." Bill spun away, the door banging loudly into the now silent Staff Room. Raphael stood, placing his coffee cup down.

"If you will excuse me Professor," he stated stiffly, hiding his own rage and disgust. Umbridge waved him away, her glee palpable.

Disgusting, he thought, storming away. Well, it explained her confidence. If Akhnankhamun's son, whoever that may be, followed him quickly to the grave, or Raphael could offer up his soul to the Leviathan before the body gave out, then it would easily clear the way for the Ministry to return to its meddlesome ways within the school. It was almost laughable how easily things fell apart with the loss of a single life. Even if that life was a child.

Raphael understood that in war, men did things that that were unpleasant. He was fighting for a better world, for one where no one would have to experience the kind of loss he, and his allies, had taken. No more wars, no more injustice, no more loss, all for the price of putting up with creatures like her. But right now, he would not be able to restrain himself from attacking her.

In his anger he almost bowled over the girl waiting outside his office. Raphael blinked a moment or two, before her face registered in his mind. Hermione Granger, one of the Golden Trio. And if she were here…

"Where are your friends, Miss Granger?" he asked suspiciously. The girl twitched and two guilty faces appeared from behind a set of armour.

"We… er, we were wondering if perhaps you would be able to tell us more about the Akkadian Princess who attacked the Nameless Pharaoh?" Granger squeaked. Raphael blinked, watching them closely. There was something different about Potter, about them… but this was an opportunity that he couldn't pass up.

"Of course. Come into my office and we'll talk," he said ushering them inside.

He didn't see the small ghostly figure running back down the corridor.

Marik eyed his target closely. After their short… discussion last night, Draco had agreed to at least think on what they had spoken about. Or, well, shouted. Considering the waning attention he was getting from his peers however, and the defection of all half-blood and Muggle-born Slytherins from the 'cause', Draco had nowhere near as much power as at the beginning of the year. The lower years flocked to Akhefia, himself or DC, the upper years torn between joining DC, continuing to follow Draco or jumping ship to the growing powerhouse of Blaise Zabini. Even the two goons, Crabbe and Goyle had joined the older teen. Instead, he was currently sat with a mousy-haired boy called Theodore Nott.

Marik didn't bother to creep into the Common Room anymore. Kaiba had rolled his eyes at his timidity and Akhefia had given him a sharp speech about how Battle City wasn't his fault. If he had been raised within the Clans, the Rod would never have had such power over him and his father would have been punished accordingly for the atrocity carved into his back. He didn't want to think too hard on the clear horror on Atem's face when he first caught sight of it, covered up quickly with anger instead. Marik was mollified by some of their words but he didn't entirely buy that he wasn't at least partially responsible for Battle City. People had died for his desire to rid himself of the Prophecy that hung over their heads.

Which made the guilt regarding Atem all the worse, considering.

He pushed that aside for now as he strode through the room, watching each member of the house carefully. He was going to have to be quick. Bill had stated that any explanation Yugi gave would be in the Palace Dorm under his watch, which meant at ten o'clock sharp. It nine now- he had half an hour to get this over with. And to try not to think too hard on Nofret's report of seeing the so-called 'Golden Trio' outside Raphael's office.

"Ishtar," Draco greeted, eyes narrowed. Nott scampered away. Ever since that first night, the students had been terrified of Akhefia, and only slightly less of himself after one idiot tried to attack him from behind. Years of avoiding snakes in the dark had given Marik excellent hearing and sharp senses- the moron spent about five minuets in the Shadow Realm before he decided that it was probably a bit extreme and retrieved him. Hadn't stopped the rumours from spreading however, and no one had been stupid enough to attack Kaiba.

"We need to talk," Marik stated clearly. "Alone."

"We spoke last night," Draco drawled, leaning further back in his seat lazily. "I still haven't made up my mind."

"Did I stutter?" Marik snapped, eyes narrowed. "That wasn't a choice." Draco scowled, eyeing the others in the room. No one moved to help. Once again, he was trapped in his own Common Room.

"Well, if you insist," Draco said, somehow making it sound like Marik was just being incredibly unreasonable. "Come along, I'm sure Severus has somewhere we can speak in private." There were a few twitches from Draco's deliberate reminder that their Head of House happened to be his godfather.

Marik rolled his eyes, to show just how much he cared about that as he followed the boy from the room.

Snape wasn't in his office, but neither of them cared about that. Draco would spin one version of the story if he returned, while Marik knew that Snape would know immediately what he was up to anyway. The way the man could wriggle past his mental defences might have been scary if he wasn't so careful about it.

"I told you, Ishtar, that I haven't made up my mind," Draco snapped the moment the door shut, dropping the lazy pretentious act. Marik raised an eyebrow at that, unconcerned. He wondered how much of the true Malfoy they had missed, so wrapped up in other issues. He wondered how much his peers actually knew about this boy.

"I know. It isn't an easy decision, turning your back on everything you know," Marik said, turning to inspect one of the jars. An eyeball floated past, trailing viscera behind it in grotesque suspension. I bet these are only here for intimidation. What would anyone use cow eyeballs for except food delicacies?

"And what would you know about it? You know who my father is: if I oppose him, I'll have nowhere to go." Marik didn't miss the note of panic in Draco's voice. So, he had thought on it. Perhaps Nofret was right. Marik shrugged off his robe, revealing the white top underneath. "What are you doing?" Draco asked, alarmed.

"My father was the leader of our Clan," Marik said carefully, trying not to think too hard. He had never actually spoken about what happened before- everyone around him either had been present, or had been informed by Ishizu. The words were difficult to say, but he knew that he had to talk about it at some point. "In the Clans, the men lead. It didn't matter that Ishizu was older, I had to be the one to learn the lore, to pass on our knowledge. If I messed up, got a fact wrong, our father would punish our adoptive brother." Draco was staring at him, wide-eyed. "I did everything I could to please him, but it was never enough. Ishizu was always smarter- she has a Master's already while I'm still struggling with basic maths. Even Odion has his GED." Marik paused, glancing at the floor a moment, swallowing. "He never blamed me for the whippings he got, not once. And there were many." There was a lump in his throat.

"My father hates that I fall short of Granger," Draco offered quietly. "He beats the House Elves, makes me attack them. I hate it." Marik took the pause in the conversation as the gift it was. He was listening at least.

The problem was, he wasn't prepared for the next part.

"When I was ten, my father decided I was old to be initiated into the Tomb Keepers proper. All I wanted was to go outside, to experience real life. I was a right brat, throwing tantrums because I could, only stopping because our father threatened punishment. He didn't care that I wanted no part of it. So he took me into the Temple, had me held down…" Marik trailed off, phantom agony bubbling across his back. He turned and yanked the top off before he could think too hard. He pretended not to hear the hissed gasp behind him. "Odion, the stupid idiot, went and got initiated too, just so I wouldn't be alone. His are right across his face, he did it in secret with Ishizu." He tried not to remember the blistering anger at his sister, how she had agreed and carried it out, how could you…? "He covered for us when I insisted that we leave and Ishizu took me to the local market. He knew what would happen but did it anyway, just to indulge me." He pulled the shirt back on, forcing himself not to think on that day, the day something had whispered into his ear and promised him vengeance. "I killed our father for what he did. I was so angry and I took it out on other people. I raged against everything our father stood for, hurt a lot of people… and I hate that I did it. Ishizu, Odion, even our mother, May Her Spirit Be Eternal in the afterlife, suffered because of him. And they suffered because of me, because for a while I became just like him." He could feel the Shadows bunched in his fist, shaking at his side. He angrily jerked on the robe, feeling the need to cover up in as many layers as possible.

"… I don't want to become like my father." Draco's voice was wobbly, his face pale. He was looking at Marik, really looking at him, a new understanding on his face. "I don't want to be indoctrinated into the Death Eaters. It sounded wonderful last year, the Dark Lord coming back. Father would be happy again. But now… he comes home injured, Severus is more closed off than ever and… and I know that he expects me to be a part of them soon as well." It was probably the most honest the other boy had been with another person. "That isn't the life I want for the people I care about, not even stupid Crabbe and Goyle who wouldn't be able to pass their End of Year exams, let alone their OWL's, without me."

"You only have to ask, if you need help," Marik said quietly. Draco scowled, beginning to pace.

"Ask who? Your precious Prince is dying according to Umbridge and Father holds half the Ministry in his hands, even with the investigation of our house! No other Ministry can take responsibility for me because I'm a citizen here, you've seen how much of a shit Dumbledore gives to the Slytherins and Severus can't take me in without it getting back to my father and then we'll both be punished!" Draco was shaking, whether in anger or panic Marik wasn't sure. "Soon there will be no one left who can help us!"

"You think so?" Marik asked, leaning against the desk leisurely. "Kaiba is Atem's cousin you know."

"So?" Draco snapped, not quite catching on.

"You think he's going to put up with half the crap Atem does? Kaiba's a lot of things, but merciful isn't one of them. He barely computes empathy." A fact that had escaped Umbridge entirely it seemed, as comprehension dawned over Draco's face. He blinked, then gathered himself back up again.

"Do I have your permission to pass that on to relevant parties?" Draco asked formally. "There are others in Slytherin who might need that kind of information."

"Why do you think I'm here?" Marik asked with a grin, pushing back the memories. It didn't matter right now.

If he could stop others from making his mistakes, it would be worth it in the end.

"I would like to make it known that I do not agree with this," Akhefia spat, fuming in the corner. He had been called away from his vigil outside the Hospital Wing for this?

"Duly noted," Yugi said calmly, ignoring him. Akhefia scowled harder, slamming a hand down in front of the shrimp, making him jump.

"I don't think you understand. His Royal Highness never gave you permission to even whisper anything to them, especially after he defended you from Dumbledore's idiocy," Akhefia growled, watching violet eyes blow wide. "I don't care if you have the Pendant or not. The Tomb Keepers will shelter you because His Royal Highness and Kaiba say so, but they have no jurisdiction over me." Yugi's eyes narrowed.

"I was told you were a guard from the House of Life. That makes you one of them." He scoffed, giving the kid a chilling grin.

"Well, Atem had to give me some kind of title to stop his father from throwing me out on the street. He's rather prejudiced like that. In reality, everyone knows that I defer to Atem because he saved my life and I owe him a debt. He's a good friend and deserves better than the hand he's been dealt. None of that extends to you." And didn't even Kaiba know that. He had been very clear on that point. Kaiba had done little more than raise an eyebrow; his own father had fallen foul of the same problem and had wrested himself out of the life. Neither Akhefia nor Atem had that choice.

"Calm down," Bill said from his chair. He looked exhausted, more so than usual. He had never taken the slow encroachment of impending doom so well on most days- after dealing with Umbridge he was looking worse than usual. "This isn't helping anyone." Akhfia could practially see I wish Mahad were here written over his face. "Where's Marik?"

"The fuck should I know?" Akhefia spat, backing up. The Spirit watched him with sharp eyes that Akhefia pretended not to see. Soon, they would be the only pair of ruby eyes to look at him like that when he fucked up and…

"Sorry I'm late!" Marik gasped as he half-fell through the doorway, followed quickly by Bakura, looming shadow in tow. Akhefia shrank back further, scowling. This really wasn't his day. "Er… what happened?"

"Doesn't matter," Akhefia muttered turning away. A sturdy hand landed on his shoulder and he blinked at Marik's face which appeared from seemingly nowhere.

"Your opinion always matters," Marik stated. He nodded, allowing the other boy to take his place next to Yugi. Diabound gently bopped her head against his cheek, tongue hissing out reassurance.

Mere moments later there was a knock on the door. Akhefia retreated back to his corner as Ryou, slightly nonplussd, opened it to three grave faces. He resisted the urge to growl at them, comforted by Kaiba's stubborn resistance to having anything to do with this. He'd stayed with his cousin in the Hospital Wing, ignoring all of McGonnagal's attempts to get him to return to classes tomorrow. She was adamant he leave, get some sleep of his own. Akhefia could have told her it was pointless- Set had stood vigil over his cousin's body before.

Had stood over other loved ones too.

Harry walked in with the confidence of someone who thought he knew everything. Well, he would be sourly disappointed. No matter what, Akhefia wasn't letting the shrimp spill all the beans.

He had sworn a vow, many years ago after all. And whether Atem lived or died, he wasn't going to break it.

Harry could feel the tension in the room even as the door opened to a rather baffled Ryou. For some reason, it seemed like no one had bothered to tell him what they were doing here. Harry supposed they might eventually get the answer to that, especially considering the two shadows he could see, practically sat at opposite ends of the room. In one corner, Akhefia stood, looking ready to stab something, an agitated Diabound wrapped around his neck. Marik was sprawled in one of the armchairs next to an worn-out Bill, with Yugi closest to the fire, the Spirit of the Pharaoh crouched in shadowy form next to him.

The red eyes were creepy in the middle of the writhing mass and Harry shuddered.

"Feel free to sit wherever," Yugi invited them. Harry glanced around, wondering where half the seats had come from. He chose one of the ridiculously expensive-looking office chairs along with Hermione, if only to see what it felt like. The leather squeaked as he spun lightly in it a moment, luxuriating in the feeling. Draco Malfoy had no doubt never had one of these in his house. Ron plopped into one of the squishy armchairs closest to the fire.

"Yugi, we think we have something to tell you first," Harry started, not wanting to get distracted. As much as he wanted to know about the whole Millennium Item issue, this was more important. Yugi cocked his head to the side as Akhefia raised an eyebrow.

"About what?" Yugi asked, somewhat suspiciously. Harry tried not to be too annoyed- he had, after all, invaded Yugi's privacy rather egregiously last week.

"It's about that dagger," Harry said quickly, watching Yugi reel back slightly. "I remembered where I had seen it before. That woman, the ghost Haphiri, she had it too." He watched the expressions around him. Marik, Akhefia and Bill did nothing, the Spirit in the corner might have raised an eyebrow (the shadows made it hard to tell), Ryou looked confused and Yugi… blinked, nodding.

"I noticed too," he agreed quietly, curious. "What about it?"

"Well, I- we remembered the last History of Magic lesson," Harry said quickly, wanting to get this over with. "So we went to Professor Schiavone." Akhefia scoffed, earning him a hard look from Bill. "We know he can't have it all right. I know now, your friend he isn't… well, he's not bad now," Harry amended. None of them could really know what he was like and Hermione had ranted about context enough times for him to know that the Professor's opinion may have been skewed by something.

"What Harry's trying to say," Hermione interjected quickly, rolling her eyes at him, "is that we decided to gather more information on her before coming to you." Marik's eyes narrowed. "I've been doing my own independant research as well as looking over the History of Magic notes. And… we're worried she might not be as friendly as she comes across." She paused before digging out a book from her bag. "This is only one of a few books I looked through, and Ron helped me find some more magical tomes from the library as well. While I can't find a correlation for the name 'Haphiri' there is evidence of a woman named Enheduanna in both magical and Muggle worlds. In Muggle literature she's a harbringer of death. In the magical world…" she trailed off, biting her lip. "In the magical world, it's said the Akkadian sorceress Enheduanna had powers over people's souls, which she used to call upon Dark Magic." Yugi blinked. glancing to the side. Marik shrugged, looking slightly non-plussed. Akhefia rolled his eyes.

"According to your rules, Shadow Magic is also Dark Magic, along with the Old Religion, Paganism and Werewolves. Yet Truth serum and Love Potions are considered Light." He shrugged, inspecting his nails. "Don't try and place your sensibilities on that of the past."

"Look, we're not saying she's actually evil," Harry snapped, despite not completely believing that. "We were concerned she's been playing the long game. After all, you can't say she didn't kill your friend." He looked long and hard at Yugi who looked taken aback. He shared a glance with the shadow, face unreadable.

"She hasn't made a move yet," Ryou interjected, frowning. "And if she really wanted to do us harm, wouldn't she have… asked… you know." He shifted uncomfortably as all turned towards him. Akhefia shook his head.

"She'd never work with Necrophades. He helped kill off half her family," Akhefia snapped. "And your starting to sound like the Tomb Keepers."

"Something you want to share?" Bill asked, eyes narrowed. "Like how I was never told any of this?"

"Your little friend in the Ministry knew," Akhefia returned, unimpressed. "Or you could have done your research like little Miss Know-It-All over there." Hermione scowled as Bill bristled.

"So, she did actually do it?" Yugi asked quietly. Silence descended in the room. Marik shifted uncomfortably while Akhefia glared. Eventually, he shrugged.

"No one knows. We weren't there. If you want an answer, feel free to ask Nofret if you can get her to give you a straight answer." Harry stared, as did Bill. Does he know? Is he protecting her? But from what?

"Akhefia, now is not the time to play coy," Bill snapped. "Did Haphiri kill the Nameless Pharaoh or not?" Akhefia growled.

"I just told you, I don't know. So, unless you can get it out of anyone from the past who didn't take a vow of silence from Pharaoh Set when he married her, no one will fucking know!" This silence was oppressive as Akhefia fumed in the corner. He could see the wide eyed stare Yugi was giving him, feeling that pit in his stomach growing. Perhaps we should have told Yugi alone, Harry thought. Or just not looked at all. It was too late now.

"Um, why don't you tell us what you know?" Hermione asked in a small voice. "It might… it might help. Especially if the Pharaoh might… um, remember anything?"

"Sure, but he doesn't remember anything," Yugi pointed out, edging slightly away from Akhefia. The other boy sneered but didn't move.

With narrowed eyes, Harry sat back to listen to what his friend had to say.

Can you tell where I hanged my mind on parts of this story? Also, this chapter decided to add a complication or three in that I will have to work into the next few chapters, so we shall see where this will be going.

It is never explicitly stated how Odion got his own 'tattoo' on his face (I know it's not actually a tattoo before anyone points out, same as Marik's back). Or even how he did it without Marik's knowing, during the time while Marik was being held down by his father. So someone had to do it and there are very few people who would have done so. Apologies if Marik's section upset anyone, I swear I am going somewhere with this story thread.

Also, for anyone who missed him, Ryou's back! I swear I didn't mean to leave him out for ages, but he just didn't fit in the most recent chapters and I find writing him to be very difficult. Along with Raphael. I promise, he will be in the next chapter as well, and I will try to put him in more chapters, but I can't say how much. Hopefully his characterisation is alright.

Anyhow, hope you enjoyed this chapter and I'll see you next week with the second half of this chapter, else it would have gone on forever!

Vaasth: Thank you, and I swear I had never abandoned the story, just got stuck on certain parts. So I took a break for a bit but am now happy to be back, with more chapters on the way! And thank you for your continued support for this story!