An Attempt To Tip The Scales
Chapter Seven of Behind Bright Eyes
Disclaimer: In addition to not owing Yu-Gi-Oh! (Kazuki Takahashi) or Harry Potter (J.K. Rowling) or anything else copyrighted in this fic, Hikari and her alter-egos also don't own Marie Blackfelt or Wendi. Marie is owned by Random Person number three and Wendi is owned by Torina Archelda. Both have given her permission in using their OCs in this fic. Both also made up the age and the description, and Random Person number three also made up Marie Blackfelt's history. Random Person number three also owns Arina Arono. Bright Eyes owns An Attempt To Tip The Scales (Azurite, I haven't listened to them in ages), and My Chemical Romance Welcome To The Black Parade.
Me: Hello everyone! Sorry for the wait – writer's block, y'know, and all that good stuff. I wanted to finish this by New Years, I'm sorry that I didn't… I should be doing homework as I write. xP I hate Chapter Summaries.
A note on Hikari: She's not meant to be the spotlight of this story, I swear. Her role is that of a comforter and a guide when people are hurt, afraid and lost. She brings out parts of characters that others don't, and her situation reveals plot points. I swear, if I wanted to make this all about her I would, but I don't. I've written plenty of stories about her and Seto that I've never posted – and never will – so rest assured I'm not trying to blow up her role.
Harry yawned and looked around, bored. Nothing seemed to catch his attention anymore. Nothing really mattered. He had stopped caring.
… Almost.
He was close to giving up all hope. His purpose in life had nearly deteriorated. Nearly, but not quite. For Harry couldn't help but cling to the most important things in his life.
His mentors. His close friends. His purpose in life.
His ultimate goal in destroying Voldemort.
So in a sense, young Harry Potter was more determined than ever to destroy the evil that was in the world. He wanted to wreak destruction on the people who did that for a living, on an everyday basis. He wanted to show them what they did to everyone else.
The lives they destroyed. The people they killed. Harry wanted to bathe in a pool of their blood, to prove that they had slaughtered the innocent for nothing.
"We're here, Harry," said Yugi, placing a hand on his shoulder.
Harry glanced up at his head mentor, before glancing about with more interest. But not by much; Diagon Alley had lost its splendor in Harry's eyes. He no longer looked about and wished for eight more eyes. He no longer was fascinated by all the magic taking place around him, by the shops glimmering with advertisements, by the adventure and animation around him. But he was interested to see in the changes wrought in the place.
In fact, Diagon Alley had changed tremendously since the previous year. There were no more shops glimmering with advertisements, adventures and animation, or magic running wild.
Diagon Alley, for lack of a better description, had died. Many of the shops were boarded up, and those that weren't… well, they didn't exist anymore. Many stores were empty on either side of them, huge scorch marks on the ground and rubble still lying around them. There were no more people lined in the streets with their merchandise. Carts lay abandoned and vandalized; many had been pillaged and emptied. Only Gringotts Bank, known to be the safest place besides Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the only bank in the wizarding world, was still running (1). But even that was exclusive; no one came in, no one went out. Only a stream of owls showed that people still used it.
The Leaky Cauldron was not much better. Tom the bartender was still there, but it was obvious that business was slow. So slow, in fact, that the only people in the tavern were a homeless couple who had been using it as a place to sleep (Tom made no objections, as he was getting no money anyway) and a few stragglers that wandered in every now and again. No one had visited for weeks, Tom had told them. Ever since Diagon Alley had been attacked…
Harry, Yugi, Ryou and Malik were at Diagon Alley to investigate exactly that. The Ministry of Magic had tried to hush the affair up, but three weeks after the attack The Daily Profit had gotten wind and reported it. Hedwig, who had been delivering a letter to Hagrid back in England when Harry was in Domino City, had come back with a copy of The Daily Profit and a note from Hagrid. Come with Yugi and the others on the 14th o' August to Diagon Alley. I'll meet yer there. After Harry had read the report, he knew that there was much more to the scene than what the newspapers had reported.
"Good God," whispered Ryou, looking around him. "I certainly don't remember it looking like this the last time we were here."
((Let me take over,)) Bakura told him.
/Why?/ asked Ryou.
((Because my abilities as a thief can come in handy,)) he said simply. ((Because I am much more observant than you. Because I will be able to detect things you cannot. Because…)) He hesitated. ((I feel something bad has happened here, Ryou. No, don't scoff – )) Ryou had chuckled at the obvious. (( – I mean evil. And if it comes back, I don't want you to get hurt.))
Ryou was touched by his loyalty. /Bakura…/
((Besides, if the Pharaoh's host gets hurt, I get to laugh at him for being stupid.))
Ryou sighed and consented.
Malik didn't even turn as he sensed the change. Bending down to examine the remains of Flourish and Blotts, he asked, "Notice anything spectacular, Tomb Robber?" He glanced over his shoulder idly and then froze.
Bakura was more alert than usual. He kept whipping around, as if a dog trying to follow a scent. The analogy is not altogether inaccurate. He stopped and sniffed the air keenly. By now even Harry was paying attention. Bakura dropped onto his knees and smelled the ground. He jumped up again and spun before running to where Malik had been kneeling. He picked up a charred piece of wood and sniffed that as well before reeling back, a look of horror crossing his face.
((Bakura…)) said Yami slowly.
"Bakura, is everything – what the hell is wrong with you?!" Malik jumped up and seized the white-haired yami by his shoulders. Shaking him roughly, he said louder, "Bakura? BAKURA!"
The former Thief King looked at his colleague with unseeing eyes. "Don't you sense it?" he whispered. "Don't you feel it in the air?"
"… Feel what?" asked Malik slowly, unsure.
Bakura broke free of his grip. He looked over his shoulder, in the direction of Knockturn Alley. "Blood. Lots of blood was spilt – the ground, the air, it all wreaks of it. There was some sort of ritual – I feel evil auroras and magic ill-used. I sense death and destruction for power. I…" He liked his cracked lips and swallowed. "Recently. It all feels too recent, and too much – as if whoever did this came back… again and again. They repeated whatever they did… to strengthen the spell, to increase its potency, I wouldn't know."
Harry and Yugi exchanged a knowing glance. If Bakura, the self-titled King of Thieves, the infamous Soul Stealer, was afraid – as his tone and expression suggested – and found whatever had happened as evil, then they were screwed.
((A ritual, Tomb Robber?)) said Yami. ((What kind of ritual? Was it of death?))
"No…" whispered Bakura. It was obvious that he was still in shock. "No… it was much more sinister than that. It was… oh my Ra." Suddenly Bakura knew why the chants still reverberating silently in the air were so familiar. "It's a plea to merge the Shadow Realm with whoever is controlling the ritual."
(Author's note: This isn't meant to just be some fluffy little scene between lovers. It serves a purpose – revealed at the end.)
"Oh Ra… this is going to be a long day."
Seto Kaiba was tired. It was not a tiredness to be shaken off by sleep, even if he wasn't an insomniac. No, it was a weariness that was deep in his bones.
"Mmm," murmured Hikari, pulling his arm so that he lay down. She put his head in her lap and massaged his temples. "Indeed. Somehow, I don't think we'll be left alone, even though the yamis, hikaris and Harry are in England."
"I hope you're not left alone," said Joey, poking his head in Seto's study. The couple was on the couch conveniently placed in the vicinity. They were planning out courses for the Gods of Egypt, or GOE, as it was being called as of late.
After Aazar's funeral, everyone who had arrived at the States returned to Domino City to meet up with the others – except for Yugi, Ryou, Malik and Harry. They had received an owl, sending them back to England immediately. Meanwhile, the others returned to Domino to find everyone else in anxious training. Anzu, Tristan, Marie, and Ginny, who agreed to stay from the beginning, had been found wandering around Kaiba Mansion, practicing spells and praying. (2)
"We weren't doing anything," snapped Hikari. "Stop being the overprotective cousin. Don't you realize there's a war going on? If you want to protect me, protect me from our enemies, notmy own boyfriend."
Joey looked at her very calmly for a few moments before turning and leaving.
And I thought I was tired, thought Seto, amused but concerned. Hikari had been tense ever since Dumbledore had arrived with the bad news. It was obvious that the deaths in her family were taking a toll on her – and now she had to worry about so many others, too.
"You should rest," he said nonchalantly.
"I should rest? You're the one who hasn't slept in three days."
"Have you?"
He had her there. "That's not the point," she retorted. Before she could bite her tongue, she snapped, "Stop worrying over me; I can handle myself. God, you're as bad as Joey!"
Seto Kaiba, for the first time in his life, did not make a clever retort. He slowly raised himself and turned around, setting Hikari with a cool, appraising look.
She held her gaze for a moment before her resolve cracked. She turned, shamed by the tears that burned in her eyes. God, she hated crying. It was the ultimate sign of weakness – and she hated appearing weak in front of Seto. Oh she hated it! It was apparent – and, wryly she had to note, many agreed – that Seto was too good for her, way above her level. And he was so damn strong. He had endured so much in his childhood, and growing up; yet he never showed any emotion, a perfect mask of calmness and cold indifference. And she? In her youth she had been unable to control the flood of emotions she felt. No, her childhood was not the perfect one it could have been; she bore responsibilities no child should ever have done, and, haven been thusly scared and marked out by her family as an outcast, forced into therapy. But during her sophomore year, Hikari had changed. Now, she no longer wore her heart on her sleeve. She started to conceal it, slowly, until she, too, hid under many masks. It helped that that was the year the Dark Tournament was held, and that she met the man who would soon become the love of her life.
And when Hikari had sworn herself to Seto, she vowed that she would never let him see her defeated, as she knew he would never be.
"I'm sorry," she said, her voice steady despite the heavy flow of tears. It had taken years to master that skill. She had done it so that, in her moments of trouble (which came often enough), she would not appear weak in front of Seto. "It's just that…" Despite herself, she had to be honest with how she felt. She shifted so that her hair covered her face. She did not want him to see her in tears. "It's not easy, losing Altáriël and Aazar. I lost one of my best friends when I was fifteen, and I had hoped to never lose anyone so close to me again. And now…" she faltered, and stopped.
Seto Kaiba watched her silently before standing. She thought he would leave; she wasn't surprised when she heard him stand. He could have anyone in the world; there were girls probably dying just for him to look at them, let alone a smile, a touch, a caress, a kiss – far less than she had received! What had she done to deserve him?
He had stood up, but not to leave. He walked to a corner of the study where an intercom was. "Mrs. Gershwin? Would you make some tea and send it up to my study, please? And is Roland in?"
"Of course, Mr. Kaiba; yes, he arrived ten minutes ago."
"Send him up, then."
Still, he said nothing to her, instead walking silently over to a bookshelf and choosing a volume.
Hikari did not look up. She had inherited her mother's quick temper and her father's stubborn pride. She still refused to let him see her tears.
Seto glanced over from his desk, where he had stopped after a quick look in one of his books. He returned his attention back down at the paper he was writing on. He finished what he was writing and retrieved a post-it pad from within a drawer. He scribbled a note and stuck it to the paper before placing it in a folder.
A moment later there was a knock on the door. Seto walked up to it, running a hand over the smooth oak finish, before taking hold of the brass doorknob and opening it. Roland, one of his employees, and his main housekeeper, Mrs. Gershwin, both greeted him. He handed Roland the folder and told him to place it on his desk in his office. He thanked both as he took the tray of tea and sweets and closed the door. He placed the tray on a table, poured out two cups, and placed them on the table.
It was now that the older Kaiba turned his attention to the motionless brunette, still sitting on the couch, her back straight, her gaze steadily staring ahead, silent the entire time. He walked around the couch so that he was facing her. She did not move as he knelt before her, as to see into her eyes. She did not flinch as he gently, lovingly, wiped away the last of her tears with his thumb. She met his eyes squarely, and did not break from them when he put his thumb to his lips, nor did she acknowledge that he was taking in her tear-stained cheeks, her red, puffy eyes, and her general, defeated, sad demeanor.
She had become as broken as he had been from the beginning.
"Mery-i, mi amor, joon e deliman," (3) he whispered. "Why are you so afraid that you're not strong? Don't you realize that you have defied the odds and proven your strength, hundreds of times over? You go on every day, despite the fact that Steve, Aazar and Altáriël all lie elsewhere. You go on despite the friends that have deceived and betrayed you, the boys who have broken your heart, the family that pressure and leave you. You are the mother of everyone you know, you care about even the most inconsequential people – don't you see? You have surpassed me in every way, and there is need to try and tell me you're weak."
She met his eyes fully now. "How… I, surpass you? Oh Ra, Seto, Ra forbid such an event to pass! For my…" She faltered. "How?" she asked, shaking her head in wonder.
"Everything I did – everything I've ever done – was for Mokuba. But you… everything you did – "
" – Was for my siblings," she said, "Don't you see, Seto? We are one and the same – the perfect example of a fork in the road. Our situations are so similar – and yet, we chose two different paths. I chose to immerse myself in those I love, dedicate myself to them. And you… you…"
"… Chose the life of seclusion," he said quietly. "While you chose to help everyone around you, I chose only to help my brother and myself."
"No!" said Hikari passionately, placing her hand on his cheek. He kissed her palm softly, his eyes never leaving her. Sapphire reading chocolate, and vice-versa. "No, don't you see? You made Kaiba Land – you set out to help everyone, too! You wanted for orphans and all scared children around the world to be happy! And you've done just that! You've made so many happy – I was one such child, don't you see? You, Seto – you far surpass anything I've ever done and will ever do."
"Until you met me, you wanted to become a neuroscientist and do everything you could to help autistic children, like Seena," he reminded her. "Your research during those summers helped researchers immensely. And then you met me – just look what happened. A dead cousin, and sister – it might be worse next time."
"You fool," she murmured. "You damned fool. You think… you think I blame you for what happened?" The day they had come back from the morgue, Seto and Hikari had supposedly gone to talk after she had bandaged his hand. But they did not do so. He held her as she slept, and they had not discussed the matter at all. "Oh Ra, Seto – I love you!" she blurted. "How can you think that I blame you?! No, I know who is responsible for this. I know about RSS, I know he's back in my life – and I will never blame you for something you never did!"
He looked at her in quiet surprise. "You knew about RSS?" he asked softly.
"I overheard you telling the others," she said, with a wry smile. "I'm good at that, listening to things I'm not supposed to know. But… oh, Seto!" She rubbed her eyes and groaned. "Jesus Christ! What are we to do? Harry off wanting to start a new school, Yami and Bakura more anxious to finally sleep, the war at its height! What are we to do? I want to settle down soon, start a family of our own – but I don't want to raise my children in this!"
"I know, love, I know," he said soothing, stroking her hair. "The war will end soon. Harry will win this – he has to. I have the utmost faith in him. After he does, we can settle down at last, get married, have our family – with nothing to worry. No more evil wizards wanting to take over the world, no more wild jobs in England or any other random place, and certainly the end of Shadow Magic! Yami will seal up the Shadow Realm for good, and, at last, we'll have peace."
"I hope so," she said, with a small smile and a chuckle. "If Yugi or his yami say the words, 'The fate of the world depends on us!' one more time, I think I might have to send them to the Shadow Realm myself."
He chuckled, but then paused. Something she had said earlier had caught his attention. "What was that you said about Yami and Bakura?"
"Hm? Oh." She flushed and looked away. "Nothing. Forget I mentioned anything."
"Wait… the two yamis are anxious to finally sleep. What does that mean?" At her silence, he pressed forward. "Hikari? What does it mean?"
She sighed, and looked down. "I didn't mean to hint at it like that. No one else was supposed to know – just the lights, and me, as I overheard them speaking and had to interfere. Malik's always known; he was guardian to the Pharaoh's Tomb for ten years, it made sense that the time would come eventually. But no one else. Others might have guessed, but I don't know."
"What's going to happen?"
She took a deep breath. "They were trapped in their Items for 3000 years, Seto. They were in darkness that entire time – but not asleep. They both nearly went mad; in a sense they did go mad. Yami went on a rampage when he was freed, challenging whoever had the slightest bit of evil in him a Shadow game. Bakura… Ra, we know what he did, the unspeakable horrors he committed. And now…" She looked at him pleadingly. "They're so tired, Seto. They've saved the world countless times, and they were so ready to find the lost memories and finally rest after the whole DOMA fiasco. But then this came up – they're utterly exhausted. Oh, they'll go through everything, fight it to the end, alright. But afterwards? Yami is tired of not knowing, Seto. He's tired of being the Nameless Pharaoh without memories. And Bakura wants to be understood. He doesn't want people to look at him in disgust, hold him in contempt and shoot the name Soul Stealer at him with fear in their hearts. He wants them to know why he did what he has ever done. He wants people to look at him and see not the contemptuous bastard who placed people's souls in dolls, but the little boy who was scarred at a young age. They're both so old, and so, so tired."
Seto leaned back. "My God," he murmured. "It's finally come to this."
"Hey, guys," said Mokuba, walking into the room, "I just got a letter from Harry – they're coming back soon. Ron, Hermione? There's a private one for just the two of you as well."
Ron glanced over at his bushy-haired friend. She had her nose in a book, as usual. At Mokuba's words, he saw her eyes linger on the same spot for a moment before looking up and slowly closing the book.
"Okay," said Ron, not turning to his fellow Marauder. He watched as Hermione bit her bottom lip, took a deep breath, and looked down. Only then did he face Mokuba. "The letter?"
Mokuba handed him a slip of parchment. Hermione stood behind Ron and slowly left the room. Ron started to follow, when Mokuba placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Try to understand," he said quietly. "I know you're both hurt, but you must at least sympathize with what he's been through."
Ron did not turn. He stared determinately after Hermione. "He's my best mate, man," he said in return. "I may not understand, but God knows I'll never abandon him. But I'm not sure what Hermione might do or say. She's become more and more moody. I can't seem to do anything about it."
Mokuba let go of his shoulder and turned away. "Have her talk to Hikari and maybe Anzu. I think it's time that Hermione realizes just what is going on – not just with Harry, but also with my brother. She's not over him, and… well, I think she'd appreciate having a girl to talk to."
Ron nodded, turned, and followed the girl he was in love with.
"Hermione, wait!" he called after her, running to catch up. She had been hastily walking away, hiding her face from view. He got up to her and spun her.
"Hermione, we've got to talk." He tried to find her eyes but her face was buried beneath her hair. "Hermione, please. For Harry's sake – calm down."
She raised her arm and wiped her face before raising her head. It was obvious that she had been crying. "Alright then. For Harry."
They found an empty living room, and sat down. Ron unfurled the note and held it so that they could both read,
Ron, Hermione –
I've done you both an injustice. For this, I am eternally sorry, and beg for your forgiveness. For you see the last few months I have changed greatly, so much so that it is affecting my relationships with them. There is no apology I can offer for this; my development is part of my training, and the way my friendships have turned is something that cannot be helped. But I am feeling the strain of not having you at my side as in the past. And for this I am truly sorry: for keeping you in the dark, for not explaining what is going on. In other words, I am sorry for being a crappy friend.
In the words of an excellent musical group – "Before I let you go, give me just one more night to show you just how I feel. I lost all my control; if it takes my whole damn life, I'll make this up you. Kind of like the waves, that roll their whole lives towards somewhere, crashing on the shore; that's blown in by the wind, carried the clouds to hide my wish on a falling star. A different kind of pain: is someone there to hold you? Is someone there to take you away from me?" (4)
I owe you both a long explanation about just what the hell is going on. You deserve it, and at the end of the day – you're still my best friends. And so, when I return from this expedition with Yuge, Ry and the Thief, I'll explain everything.
-Harry
Mokuba Kaiba lay on his bed, listening to the music that was on drift through his room. The playlist he had made was an excellent one; he was currently listening to Welcome To The Black Parade by My Chemical Romance.
"When I was a young boy,
My father took me into the city
To see a marching band.
He said, 'Son will you grow up,
To be the savior of the broken,
The beaten and the damned?'
He said, 'Will you defeat them,
Your demons, and all the non-believers,
The plans that they have made?
Because one day, I'll leave you
A phantom to lead you in the summer,
To join the Black Parade.'" (5)
He closed his eyes, letting the song envelope him in a comfortable blanket. He was almost asleep when the music was cut off and a familiar male voice said, "Mokuba, we need to talk."
Mokuba slowly opened his eyes and turned to face Joey Wheeler. The blonde had a serious look on his face as he sat next to the eighteen-year-old, remote of the stereo in hand. He placed it on Mokuba's bedside table before looking at him expectantly.
"'Course Joey," said Mokuba, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "What's up?"
Joey sat down, a contemplative expression on his face. He remained silent for a moment until he finally said, "I'm worried."
"Aren't we all?" Mokuba replied, leaning back against the headboard of his four-poster. "About what in particular? Obviously you didn't come to state the obvious."
"About…" Joey hesitated. "It's gonna sound really queer, coming from me – but I'm worried about your brother."
Mokuba blinked. "Oh?"
His companion sighed and looked away, blonde hair whipping to the side. "I think Kaiba's dealing with a shitload of stress right now, but he won't let it on – dammit, he's a Kaiba. You're all such a stubborn lot – shit, my damn cousin's not even married to your brother yet and she's already like you two. He…" Joey dug his fingernails into his palm. "I walked in on your brother and Kari talking today, and kami, he looked tired. Everyone knows Hikari's not taking all this stuff well, and he… I dunno. He looked as if her being sick affected him, plus all the grief KaibaCorp and Harry's battle is giving him. Is… how is he handling it all?"
The younger Kaiba covered his face with his hands. "I've got no idea," he murmured. "… Kami-sama. You think you're worried? I'm his little brother, for God's sake. He's always been invincible – never shown weakness, never backed down no matter the consequence. But God. It's killing him. I don't think he realizes it, but it is, and I don't know what to do about it. If you bring it up, he says he's fine and goes off to do more work. If you tell him to take a break, he says he has too much work and stomps off. What am I supposed to do? He used to always listen to me, especially when I told him to rest – and now? He makes excuses to avoid that fact that he can't handle this all, that he's not Superman after all. I mean, no one will deny how efficient and amazing my brother is, least of all me, but he can die. He isn't an immortal. But that either hasn't hit home for him yet, or he wants to avoid thinking about such things."
Joey sat back in his chair. "This isn't going to end well."
Harry let Bakura's words register. Sometime later, when recounting what had happened, he dimly remembered asking, "Hey… where's Hagrid?"
There was a deep groan, a shift in positioning and a cringe of pain before Rubeus Hagrid opened his eyes.
"Wha' da blo'dy 'ell 'appened?" he muttered, sitting up with a groan. "Where am I?"
"That's an excellent question," said an unfamiliar voice. "One that, even if I had retained my old powers, I might not have been able to answer."
He turned around and squinted at the woman he had not noticed before. She was standing in a corner; it was dark, and he could barely make her out. "Who 'er you?" he asked. Hagrid raised a huge hand to rub his eye and then winced painfully as he realized his body was covered in bruises.
"I," she said, "am not someone you should be afraid of. Do you know Malik Ishtar?"
"Aye."
"Do you trust him?"
"Well I trust Yuge, and he trusts him, don' he?"
She nodded. "Then you should place your faith in me, son of earth."
He shook his head slowly. "I don' understand – wha' 'appened?"
"There were four of us taken for the Dark Lord. You, because of your close connection to Hogwarts; me, for my close connection to the Item bearers, and two innocents to be sacrificed in the ritual about to commence, just as two others were."
He looked horrified, hearing only the last part. "Yer not sayin'… there are two more dyin'?"
"Yes, I am."
"Why don' we go save 'em, then?"
"You had to be cursed until you were subdued, even in sleep," she said. "And I? I no longer have the powers I once did."
He sat there in sheer horror. "We… we can' do anythin'?"
"Nothing, I'm afraid. We merely can sit here and pray that everything will work out."
Hagrid growled in frustration, and tried to distract himself by looking around his cell – for that's what it was. But it was useless – it was too dark to see. He should be out helping Dumbledore – since when had he everbeen kidnapped before?!
Suddenly his companion whirled around. "Were you to go to Diagon Alley to meet Yugi, Ryou, Malik and Harry?"
He looked confused. "I… er, no," he said honestly. "I ne'er planned to…"
For the first time in her life, his companion swore in a way that would make Bakura beam. "Then it was a trap after all…"
But Hagrid could not comment on such a statement, because at that moment a hooded figure entered the chamber and walked up to their cell. He bore a torch with him, and shadows danced around the room.
Hagrid looked at his companion. She was pretty, with a sandy gown overthrown by a cape. Her skin was tanned but he could see she was bruised. "Wha – " he was about to ask, when he saw the new figure point a wand at him.
"Shut it, half-breed," the person said coldly. "You two will both follow me – I have a group with me, so don't try anything. The Dark Lord wants to see you both."
They obeyed, because they knew he would be true. For all of Hagrid's size, it would do no good to fight. No, instead he decided to try to figure out a way to escape or let word of where he was… wherever he was.
However, he and his companion were blindfolded and when they saw again, they were in a large room with many people, and two objects.
The people – there were at least thirty – circled them both. They were in the center with one other man, sitting on a throne, and a covered… thing.
The main was clothed in black robes. His skin was milky white and smooth looking. His spider-like fingers lightly held a wand, and he seemed to suck in whatever light and heat in the room. His eyes were cat-like slights, a deep red – not the beautiful exotic mix of crimson that was the hue of the eyes of the Pharaoh, but a cruel, deep scarlet, holding no mercy, showing only contempt and a lust for power.
"Welcome," said a high, cruel voice. "Welcome, half-breed and tomb keeper. I do hope I wasn't interrupting anything when I called you to me."
The mindless minions around the room chuckled as the center two remained silent.
"I am Lord Voldemort," said the obvious leader. "You would do well to bow to me."
"I'd druther die firs'," spat Hagrid with a glare.
"Being a merciful lord, I can grant you that," said Voldemort, smirking. "But I am not a dimwitted lord, oaf. I could make use of you." His eyes flicked to the female in the center. "And you… how is guarding the Pharaoh's oh-so-sacred tomb?"
The Death Eaters laughed for their lord. But Isis Ishtar held her gaze and stared defiantly back at Voldemort.
"You are a fool to think you can keep us here," she said. "They will find us, and they will kill you."
The laughing stopped. But Voldemort remained calm. He did not reply. Instead, he flicked his wand towards the clothed object in the center of the room, and it was revealed.
"Look into the mirror," he said calmly, "and tell me your heart's desire."
(1) If I remember correctly it's the only bank in the wizarding world. Though I could be wrong.
(2) WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS STATEMENT? HINT!
(3) Mery-i, mi amour, and joon e deliman all are different variations of "my love".
(4) A Different Kind Of Pain by Cold. Excellent band, excellent song.
(5) Mwhahaha... shall I say foreshadowing?
Just so you know, mery-i is the sweetest endearment I have ever heard in my LIFE. THANK YOU SHADOW!
I AM DONE! HALLELUJAH! NEXT CHAPTER? Um… whenever I can.
I have to say this chapter took a lot out of me. It took a long time to get random thoughts together, and an enormous shout-out to Shadow Over Egypt (everyone read her masterpieces NOW! They're AMAZING and ALWAYS inspire me to write) for helping me through this process and for betaing this chapter. Also, I found this amazing site where I can download every episode of YGO, dubbed and subbed, so I am fucking PSYCHED. I have re-fallen in love with YGO, and with Seto (DUH). So – I've got more energy to write my fics even though they're shitty as hell and I have no time with mofo'in IB. Fuck you IB… anywhoosle, I know this was an obnoxious rant, but sheeeeeeeit, son, I'm tired as hell, I have like 7 ideas for one-shots, and I own Shadow a long-ass reply to her (as usual) long-ass emails. xP So as my team and I would say: "I can't… I have crew." (For all the uneducated souls out there – ROWING.)
Another note: As hard as I worked on this chapter – it sucked. I am so sorry. It didn't turn out how I wanted it, but it's really the best I can give you until I get more inspiration for this fic. If anyone wants to throw ideas at me, I will gratefully give you credit (but NO MORE OCs!!!!).
Also, Shadow's informed me that no longer accepts songfics – WTF mate?! Thus I have removed the lyrics of An Attempt To Tip The Scales. This whole thing pisses me off.