Disclaimer: I do not own Yugioh or Harry Potter
Chapter Seven
Ryou couldn't understand how his day had become so miserable. It had started out fine, with him back home in his own bed. The bags from his shopping trip yesterday had taken refuge in the corner next to the entrance hall that led into his living room, out of sight from where he lay. The pale while walls stood comfortably around him, and he had almost convinced himself that the day before had been nothing but a nightmare. That the spirit hadn't managed to alienate the only people from the wizarding world he had met.
But only an hour after he had gotten up, an owl had swept through the open window in his kitchen, landing on the table with a message from Dumbledore.
Ryou, the message began, I have spoken to your father, and he agrees that your staying in Japan when you are going to an English school is rather inconvenient, so he has given you permission to stay at a home with one of our students, to catch up on the education you've missed, adjust to the culture, and perhaps meet some of the students.
I will arrive around midnight, so please wait outside of your apartment, where I will arrive to pick you up.
Thank you for being so cooperative, and I look forward to seeing you soon.
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore
Headmaster of Hogwarts
Order of Merlin, First Class
/Is he serious?/ The spirit of the ring growled as they finished reading the messaged. /I'm not a fucking dog. I do not comewhen called./
Ryou giggled at his yami's obvious contempt for the old headmaster of the school they were going to attend. /I know. Do you want to go, though?/
/Yes. Maybe we could learn how to use our stick./
Ryou smiled at his yami's petulant tone, pleased with the fact that his yami's attitude towards him had lightened since his defeat at the hands of the Pharaoh, although his hatred hadn't eased, he had taken a step back to rethink his plans with the reminder that the Pharaoh wasn't as easy to beat as the other mortals he had spent his last few awaken years dueling. The Pharaoh had been learning to duel at the same time he was; he might not have his memories, but his soul remembered the game, his spirit did. And the Realm remembered him, just as much as it did the Thief King.
/Maybe./ he agreed meekly.
Regardless of both of their dislike as to the tone of the message, the yami and hikari could not curb their curiosity about the wizarding world, spurred on further during their brief visit to Diagon Alley. Ryou had thousands of unanswered questions he was still dying to ask, and the Spirit was curious to what kind of "magic" they could actually do... and what he could use it for.
Thus, they found themselves standing outside their door at midnight, waiting. Ryou found himself bouncing on the tips of his toes in anticipation. The spirit had long since retreated deep into the ring, content with the fact that Ryou wanted to go to this wizarding school and talk to these wizards some more. Alone with his thoughts, Ryou found himself changing moods rapidly, teetering on the edge of excitement and anxiety. He was going to speak to the wizards again! But what if they disliked him? What if he screwed up? But he'd learn about magic, real magic like he had always imagined growing up!
He was so caught up in his chaotic, confused thoughts that he didn't even notice Albus Dumbledore walk up beside him.
"Excellent evening we're having, isn't it?" the old man broke the silence, alerting the teen to his presence.
The albino jumped, looking over his shoulder with an almost fearful expression from years of living with his abusive dark others of his elk, before smoothing out with recognition. "Headmaster Dumbledore! Is it time to go?"
Dumbledore smiled gently, looking at him with the twinkling blue eyes he was so well known for. "That it is, my boy, unless you having something else you need to do here?"
Ryou shook his head lightly. "No sir, nothing."
The old headmaster held out his arm in response, as though asking a lady to dance. "Then we go."
Ryou gripped the old man's arm tightly, and felt himself pulled into a swirling vortex with a death grip. His breath left him with a gasp, and soon his consciousness followed.
The next the he knew was his bleary eyes blinking open to the sight of fiery red hair, and kind, aged eyes of a middle aged woman, dressed in well-worn, but carefully cared for brown robes with an apron in front, one hand on his forehead checking for fever, while her other held a ladle up and out of the way. Ryou blinked his eyes rapidly, in a successful attempt to clear his vision, as he made to sit up. He made it about half way before the woman's strong hand landed on his chest and pushed him back down.
"Now, now, dear, there's no need to rush. You just lie there and I'll bring you some soup in a minute. Professor Dumbledore warned me this might happened," the red-haired woman tutted, moving rapidly to the other room, where Ryou could faintly hear the clash of metal on metal and the rustling of movement, before she entered again, this time carrying a try with a bowl and a glass of water sitting on it, as well as a small glass vial that contained a strange liquid the teen couldn't hope to identify.
"Take this," the woman continued to talk, handing him the strange vial, "it's a potion that will get rid of most of your symptoms. Professor Dumbledore got it from Madame Pomfrey before he went to pick you up. Apparently the magic overloaded your system, since you are still unused to it..." the woman trailed off.
Ryou smiled faintly. "Are you a mother, by any chance?" he found himself asking, relaxing in the maternal presence.
The red head beamed. "Yes. To seven children. Six of them were boys, so don't think I won't know any tricks you try to pull." she scolded in mock humor, "I know exactly how long you have to rest for. Tomorrow, at the earliest."
Ryou found himself begin to frown, dismayed at the news. "I'm sure it isn't that bad..." he started.
"Nonsense. You just lay there and eat your soup. I'm Molly Weasley, by the way," she called over her shoulder, as she dashed back to the kitchen. "The children will be up soon, so you'll have someone to talk to. Dumbledore said you were new to the wizarding world, and are going to start Hogwarts this year; I'll have the kid's your age help you out a bit, if you don't mind."
Ryou nodded, silently eating the soup. It was surprisingly good, a homemade chicken soup he hadn't tasted since his mother died.
And so the morning drew on.
It was only about a half an hour later that the sound of stomping down the stairs echoed through the house. Ryou sat straight up, and discovered himself unable to resist his instinct to watch the entrance with a razor eye reminiscent of a raptor. He gazed unblinking, causing the red-headed young girl to freeze in the walkway, before slowly making her way over to a chair next to the sofa.
"Hello, I'm Ginny" she greeted softly, careful not to spook the boy, "Mum said that you are going to be living here for the next few weeks. Are you the boy Ron met the other day?"
Ryou nodded slowly, preparing himself for the rejection he was sure to receive. However, to his extreme surprise, the girl only reached out to run her hand through his hair. "It's soft!" she exclaimed.
The albino found himself grinning at her obvious surprise. "It doesn't look it, does it?" he asked quietly.
Ginny glanced at him, worried she might have offended, but nodded in agreement when she saw no such indication. "Hermione will be down in a few minutes," she offered to the silencing room, determined to get the shy boy to open up a bit, "She spent most of the night ranting how she still had questions she wanted to ask, but couldn't because Ron was too bullheaded to let her talk to you."
Ryou tilted his head in confusion. "Questions?"
Ginny nodded. "Mmm. Like why you're starting school so late, and if you know anything about wizarding Japan."
The white haired boy frowned. "I don't know if I'll be answer any of those questions. I don't understand it myself, and I only found out I had magic a few days ago."
Ginny nodded again. "Well, she'll probably ask anyway."
Ryou's mouth pulled up at the corners again, "Maybe." he agreed.
Ginny's prediction of when Hermione would come down was spot on, but the bushy haired girl did not fall into questions like they had expected her to. Rather, she seated herself firmly at the couch by the boy's feet, and studied him.
Ryou shifted, uncomfortable under her unwavering stare, but continued his quiet discussion with Ginny, telling her about Domino City's wonders and his "friends."
"Do you have a split personality?" Hermione suddenly interrupted.
Ginny's words strangled themselves off, while Ryou froze. What to say? He couldn't admit it, the spirit didn't like being known, but Hermione had obviously already considered any other options... you didn't just come out an ask these things, right?
Hermione continued speaking, looking at Ryou's panic stricken expression in understanding. "I've read about it, you know, and I wouldn't tell anyone if you didn't want me too. But it's the only explanation that fits for what happened the other day ,with your mood swings and obvious confusion about our change in attitude."
Ryou gave a small smile, and slowly nodded, hoping that the Spirit would understand that no matter how well he had learned to lie, it wouldn't have fooled the girl in front of him and only have made her suspicious. "Something like that." he murmured.
Hermione smiled back. "I really won't tell Harry and Ron if you don't want me to." She said again, and this time Ginny turned to stare at the only female member of the Trio.
"Youwould keep a secret from Ron and Harry?"
Hermione nodded decisively. "They wouldn't understand anyway." she explained, "It's really Ryou's choice to make anyway, as long as he isn't with Voldemort."
Ginny nodded slowly. "I guess." She glanced at Ryou considerately. "And he doesn't look like a death eater, anyway."
Hermione nodded in agreement. "He didn't know anything about Diagon Alley the other day anyways, and Dumbledore insisted that we meet him, so I don't think he's bad. Not that it matters anyway; Dumbledore's set on him."
Ginny frowned, looking at the boy who was only watching their conversation, reclining back into cushions. "Do you know what the Headmaster's planning?"
Hermione shook her head. "Harry might, but whatever the headmaster told him he's not sharing."
And the room was once more encased in silence.
It was a half an hour before Ron and Harry made their way downstairs, and during that time, Ryou had fallen asleep, the time difference finally taking its toll. Ginny and Hermione had remained where they were seated, and continued talking, ignoring the boys entrance into the room.
Ron came down the steps first, yawning, before freezing at the sight that met his eyes. "What's he doing here?" he yelled, pointing at the boy sleeping the couch. Harry had been following Ron down the stairs, thinking about his dreams, or rather what he wasn't seeing but the red head's exclamation brought him back to the present and he stood with the same astonished look on his face.
Hermione frowned at the boys. "Ron, stop screaming. You'll wake him up."
"It's nine! What does it matter if he wakes up?"
Hermione gave an exasperated sigh. "Because, Ronald, when he came here it was midnight in Japan, and he didn't sleep at all before coming. So be quiet."
Ron obediently sealed his lips, but continued to glare at the sleeping figure. Harry nodded, and made it over to where the brunette was sitting, taking a seat next to Ginny, who only watched him. He could feel the consideration in the stare, and knew that Ginny wouldn't forgive him if he didn't pass this test she was giving him.
"You don't think he's a death eater anymore?" he asked his female friend accusingly.
Hermione shook her head, her eyes narrowed dangerously at him. "I don't think he's a death eater, but I don't think he's completely on the light side either. He's only just learned that he's a wizard, Harry. He hasn't made any commitments yet."
Harry nodded slowly. He could agree vocally, but that didn't mean that he'd trust him on his friend's word alone. He'd just have to be more careful with his suspicions. "I guess. Well, if you two are convinced, I'll just have to give him the benefit of the doubt, won't I?"
Hermione smiled brilliantly, and he could hear Ron choke behind him. His red-headed friend would have to drastically change his attitude if he wanted Hermione to forgive him. It was quite obvious to him, at least, that Ginny and Hermione had already made their minds up about this, and Ron insisting other wise would only help him dig his hole ever deeper.
"Breakfast!" Mrs. Weasley called from the kitchen, before sticking her head into the room. "Oh, the poor dear's asleep. I'll just put some aside for him, then. Hurry up, children, the food's getting cold."
If there was one thing that could knock Ron out of his moody astonishment it was food. At the announcement, he fled the room into the kitchen, leaving the other's to follow at a more sedate pace.
At this time, the Headmaster was back in Hogwarts, deep in thought, staring at the open books on his desk in front of him. Legends, very old legends, are the keys to defeating Voldemort. he thought to himself, and now, after all these years of searching I've finally got a lead... it's just too bad I couldn't get the Puzzle, but it too much protection. It's good that Rei was so accommodating. The boy never even had a choice in the matter even if he didn't know it.
A ding echoed faintly in his ears, the alarm from the gargoyles going off to tell him someone was coming up. Growling slightly, and casting a quick tempus, he was irritated to realize that it was time for his next meeting. Well, it wasn't like the boy was going to go anywhere.
Ryou let out a relieved sigh when he finally made it back to the couch. Around lunch time Mrs. Weasley had come out into the living room to wake him up and make him eat, despite his numerous objections that he wasn't hungry, and forced several bowls of soup down his throat insisting that he was just too thin. However, despite his hesitation, he couldn't not admit that he'd missed this motherly affection ever since his own mother passed.
Actually, he like the atmosphere in general, of playful teasing and caring, and knowing that no matter what you did you'd always be forgiven. It might not be directed at him, but it permeated the air surrounding the complex exchanges and relationship. He was sure that the spirit shared the sentiment, as he had not yet made his presence known to the room, although the alertness in the back of Ryou's mind never went away.
Around him, the redheads milled, conversations carrying over from the lunch table, plans for a wedding of one of the elder boys, and whispers of the political situation. The white haired boy let his eyes scan over the room, noticing the nuances of the relationships. Harry was obviously the most driven, and in turn the most pessimistic. Ryou couldn't help but wonder if it was the way he was raised ever since he discovered his destiny, of which he was repetitively told was irrevocable. It would be sad if it were true, putting so much pressure on the boy by insisting everything was lost if he wasn't involved. The spirit scoffed inside his head.
/I highly doubt they care, landlord. They have their puppet playing in to their hands, after all./
/Do they even realize what will happen when it's over, even if they win?/ Ryou couldn't help but question, knowing that the spirit had far more experience in such matters, other than what he had experienced himself.
But it didn't stop the thin thread of kinship he felt to the raven haired boy, even if he didn't agree with the majority of his opinions.
The spirit let out an ugly sound. /I doubt the majority of the them do. But at the same time, I doubt the Headmaster cares, and in the end he's the chess master here./
Ryou didn't reply, not knowing if the spirit was just being negative, or if it was an honest opinion. He moved on in his observations. If Harry was the most driven, Hermione was the one most in tune with the political direction, the one who understood their situation in a way that exceeded just what they were told. Ryou could see it in even her movements. The way she subtly twisted away from the insults towards the ministry, and the way she always had an eye on Harry, prepared for anything, the subtle checks that her wand was still in easy reach.
Ron was harder to place. He seemed to be the glue, the optimist although much rougher than Ryou would have preferred in the situation. He was uncertain, unpredictable. The boy didn't know where he fit, and it reflected in his interactions, rapid changes from over possessive to uncaring.
Ryou shook his head. They'd figure it out. They were still young, still learning, and still not directly influenced. The Headmaster might be playing them like chess pieces now, but with his lack of direct interaction, they could move out of the elder's shadow.
A rough hand clasped his shoulder, bring his thoughts back to the present. He glanced up into a pair of identical brown eyes and shacks of red hair, and frowned at the look they were giving him. He waited for them to speak, and soon it was justified.
"Hey," one of the twins drawled, slinging an arm around the pale boy's shoulders, "We heard you got in a tussle with-"
"-our brother Ron here. But-"
"-With that glare he was giving you-"
"-there was something else bothering him. So-"
"-we wanted you to tell us what you did-"
"-To the poor sap."
Ryou shook his head in confusion. "I have no idea what your talking about." he insisted.
The twin on the left sighed. "Poor, naive, little boy. He has no idea what we're talking about, George."
"Ah, yes, I see, Fred," the other replied, "should we leave him in his ignorance?"
"I do believe we shall."
And they waltzed away. Ryou was left staring after them, wondering what had just happened. Unfortunately, he was unable to come up with an answer, and let out a sigh before turning his gaze to the red-head once more and tried to see what the twins were talking about.
There wasn't anything unusual about the look the red head was giving him. It was the exact same look he had been given when he had first met the boy, even before the Spirit of the Ring had botched things up for him; he knew he was only lucky Hermione had figured the situation out so closely, that she was able to talk to him. He had no illusions about her friends though. He knew from his own experiences with Yugi's friends that sometimes just the words and trust of one didn't speak for them all.
He let out a long breath, before he forced his mind off such paths. It did no good to wallow in his own misery, nor would he humor himself such. What was important now was surviving the next two weeks without being declared a death eater and tossed out despite the girls and Dumbledore's claims otherwise. He could feel the suspicious looks burrowing into him, making the hair rise eerily on the back of his neck. It was a feeling he was familiar with, yet he could not stop the sharp pang it sent through his chest.
He could never get a break could he?
This had been a chance to live normally for once, without constant suspicion. Yet, already he had lost what had been so elusively within his grasp.
He sighed, letting the movement and noise around the room wash over him, as he slowly secluded himself from the liveliness around him.
He didn't want to make things worse.
Bill had been watching the white haired boy since he had come down for breakfast. He had met the boy's father a couple of years ago in Egypt-they shared the same features-but the man had never mentioned that he was magical. Yes, he remembered the odd looks he had received from his elder when he had arrived and when he had struggled to find excuses to why the muggles couldn't watch him do his job, but never once had he considered the man might possible be magical. Or that he had a son that might well possibly be on He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named side, if what Ronald claimed had happened was true.
However, his own observations of the child while he was in the burrow did not match to the personality that both Harry and Ron claimed him to have. The boy that sat before him was shy, careful, and very solitary. He didn't get himself involved with the conversation, rather only speaking when spoken to, and even then he chose his words with extreme care.
The red head shook his head at his thoughts, and picked his way through the crowd to where the Japanese boy sat alone on the couch.
"So, I hear you're going to be staying here for a while. Any thing you want to ask? I imagine that my mother didn't give you much time to ask questions."
The white haired boy smiled slightly. "Nothing at the moment... Although at some point I wish to learn to use this... wand before school starts, so I won't be so far behind."
Bill stared at the boy, astonished that he was asking so little. Too be honest, he had expected a barrage of questions; about wizards in general, what he would expect from school, about the subjects even. Sue the boy had been to Diagon Alley, but even if you grew up in the wizarding world there were questions a first year had until they graduated. "I'm sure," he finally replied, "that we could work that out some how."
Ryou smiled, but didn't say anything. The two sat for a moment in silence, before Bill tried once again to start a conversation. "I'm a curse-breaker," he tried. "I work in Egypt. I met your father, once, you know."
The boy froze, although until that moment, Bill would have claimed him to be unmoving before. However, with the eerie lack of movement the boy now contained, Bill wondered how he had missed it before. Although it wasn't a noticeable motion, the boy had alays been hyper aware of his surroundings, making minute adjustments as that he was always as hidden as he could possibly be. His voice came out colder than expected in the flat words, "I have not spoken to my father in several months."
Bill cursed himself. It was quite obvious he was digging himself into a ever deepening hole. "Is that so?" he managed. "I think I will help my mother... clean up supper." and fled.
Ryou stared after the quickly retreating back, but couldn't quite manage to make himself regret his words. Who did that man think he was, prying into such matters? So he had met his father; what right did that give him to intrude?
/Landlord, calm down. Your offended sensibilities are giving me a headache./
Ryou couldn't help the small smile that formed at the rough words. The spirit couldn't come right out and tell him to calm down; it just wasn't him. But those small comments were what he lived for.
/Yes, Yami./he replied.
At least someone actually cared.