Spilled Ink
Two weeks into his stay at Hogwarts Bakura was given his first writing assignment. Since he now knew how to read and how to recognise the letters of words, the teen thought that it would be easy enough to write after he had decided what he wanted to say so that he wouldn't waste precious materials. After ruining twenty sheets of parchment, Bakura finally managed to write the title. When his second sentence produced only another spreading inkblot, however, he gave up and went to ask Professor Dumbledore for help.
Although the man was strange and rather unnerving, Bakura thought that it would be easier to approach him than Professor Dippet or, Ra forbid, Professor Slughorn. At least Dumbledore never looked at him as though he were stupid, although the man's insight provided it's own set of problems. Still, he should be safe enough on this errand.
Navigating the hallways easily, Bakura found Professor Dumbledore in his rooms and quickly explained that he didn't seem to be able to get the hang of using a quill. Sure enough, the professor was only too glad to help, hunting down a quill that would write for him as long as he dictated. After that it was easy to finish his essay, but Bakura wasn't content with acting like an illiterate peasant so he did what he had learned that he could do whenever he needed to. He went to Myrtle for help.
Of course, he didn't tell her why it was that he didn't know how to use a pen. He simply padded into the library corner where she sat and scribbled, bringing along his quill, a pot of ink, and a blanket that was black enough not to show ink spots if he messed up that badly. It was one thing to ruin parchment, and another thing entirely to spill ink on the library floor. After all, parchment, as Professor Dumbledore had told him when he had placed the papers on the man's desk for inspection, could be replaced without any problem. It was much easier to create here than it had been in Kemet.
While Myrtle continued trying towrite, frequently interrupting her work to glance over at him, Bakura laboriously traced his own name over and over again, forcing his fingers to take the same position on his quill as Myrtle's and attempting to make his writing legible and neat while his thoughts turned to other matters. He couldn't think of an answer to the question that had been bothering him, so he asked Myrtle something that was close enough to the heart of the matter that it would help him.
"What do you think makes someone evil?"
There was a long pause as Myrtle stared at him. He couldn't blame her. The question had been asked completely out of context, without any warning, and he hadn't really expected her to answer him immediately anyway. After several minutes had passed, however, Myrtle found her tongue. "I suppose that the easiest definition of an evil person is someone who enjoys the pain of others. I mean, there are good wizards who have killed people and bad ones who haven't, but I think that an evil person is someone who does things to hurt other people because they enjoy seeing people in pain." She frowned, and set down her pen with a decisive movement. "Then again, I know that a lot of rulers have been called evil because they simply ignore other people's pain in order to further their own goals. Is this something important?"
Bakura considered his answer, but decided that he could trust her on this one anyway. She certainly hadn't done anything to make him mistrust her, and there wasn't anything that he had told her that he'd heard others talking about so he assumed that she could keep a secret well enough even when it wasn't presented as one. "It's important to me, personally," he clarified. "I haven't been given an assignment on it or anything, but the question means a lot to me." It would be a long time before he felt ready to tell her why, but the fact that he felt safe telling her this much meant more than he was willing to share.
"All right." Myrtle stood, leaving her things where they were. "Wait just a minute and I'll get a dictionary."
When the girl came back she was carrying not one but two heavy books. Bakura laughed and relieved her of them before she could fall over, abandoning his work for a moment in order to take the books from his friend. Myrtle blushed and muttered something about how he didn't have to help her as she sat down before taking the books back and settling them on her knee, opening each of them and finding her place.
"All right," she began taking the larger of the two books. "The encyclopedia says that 'evil' is the bad things that people do - specifically things that have to do with destruction, killing, and causing harm to other people." Closing the book and setting it aside, Myrtle turned to the second book. "The dictionary, on the other hand, has three definitions. Firstly evil means tending towards mischief, and apparently it also means worthless. The second definition is of evil as having 'bad' moral qualities, which really doesn't tell you anything, or being wicked or wrong. It's the last definition that is the most useful, presenting evil as something that creates unhappiness, injury, or trouble." The girl looked up at him hopefully. "I'm not sure, does that help at all?"
Bakura gave her a slightly twisted smile. "A little. I need to think about it." Her words had certainly given him something to think about - something more than he really wanted to think about, but at least they had brought him a little closer to a resolution. He'd given her enough warning, he decided, so he took his things and stood up, pausing to look down at her and smile. "Thanks Myrtle."