A/N: Today (May 12, 2020) marks OLSSM's 3rd Anniversary! Thank you to everyone who has read, fav'd, and commented so far. Your reviews and reactions to my work really do mean a lot!

Enjoy the update!

/Text/ Spirit to Host

/Text/ Host to Spirit

Chapter 42: Fissures

"…I don't believe it," Yugi said, stunned, shaking his head. "How did Voldemort get his hands on something like that? I thought all of the Orichalcos stones were destroyed!"

"Apparently not," Seto muttered.

He stood, leaning against his narrow wardrobe, arms crossed tightly over his chest. Yugi sat on the edge of his bed with the Pharaoh spirited out beside him. The others were around the small dormitory, but seeing as Seto only seemed to look to Yugi as he spoke, telling the tale they were all eager to hear but too hesitant to ask, they may as well have been down in the common room.

"You think he was after the power of the Orichalcos this entire time, and the Millennium Items were a decoy?" Yami asked.

"I don't really know what to think," said Seto. "Once he started asking questions about the Orichalcos stones, I stopped talking, and that pretty much ended all conversation about it. He didn't say where exactly he got it from, but from the little bit I gathered, Voldemort isn't completely sure what it is. When the monsters appeared and started taking souls, the wizards seemed to chalk it up to a rise in Dementor attacks, because it was around the time last year when they supposedly fled the prison."

Yami was quiet for a minute. "Well…regardless of how he acquired one…the Leviathan is dead. The stones don't work anymore. The Seals have all been destroyed."

"But are you sure about that? Really sure?" said Seto, "Clearly at least one stone survived. What's to say that there might still be one card out there in the world. Just because Dartz and his three cronies aren't running around brainwashing people, that doesn't mean they weren't the only ones. What if Voldemort had one? All he would have needed was a strong duelist to channel that energy, and think of all of the damage he would have been able to do, without magic, and be blameless for it all?"

"…And he had you," said Ryou softly. "I wonder if that was truly the plan all along…"

"If there was one thing that Voldemort kept insisting on, it was that the war was more than just him versus Dumbledore or the Order. What if Voldemort knew more than he let on, and that's why he took interest in us in the first place?"

"Okay, hold up," said Harry, "I know you guys seem to know what you're talking about, but the rest of us are left in the dark. Can someone please explain what this whole 'Orichalcos' thing was?"

"It was a huge event," said Yugi, "I'm surprised you guys didn't hear about or at least experience it somehow."

"Hogwarts is pretty secluded," said Hermione.

Yugi shrugged. "I guess. Well, in any case…not too long ago there was this weird light in the sky and monsters started appearing. They looked like the ones on our Duel Monsters cards, but they were real. Not holograms at all. Some of them were monsters that had escaped from a…different sort of dimension. From this dimension, we had to release these three Legendary Dragons to fight against a sorcerer named Dartz, who used an ancient power called the Orichalcos to steal souls for thousands of years in order to power a monster called the Great Leviathan. He was going to use it to plunge the world into darkness and chaos."

Ron blinked. "You're kidding."

"No, I'm being serious," said Yugi. "Kaiba and I – and Joey – were chosen to each wield one of the Legendary Dragons, and we were literally dueling for our very souls.

"Dartz and his followers had some sort of card version of the ancient magic, called the Seal of Orichalcos, and would trap duelists into high-stakes matches. Only the winners were able to walk free. The losers' souls were taken by the Leviathan."

"But you all made it out okay," said Ron.

"Not without casualty along the way," said Yami. He stared down at the floor, hesitating. "The Seal – it brings out the worst in you, and enhances all of the negativity inside."

"You sound like you speak from experience."

Yami nodded, still staring at the floor. Thankfully, no one else in the room seemed to push further than that.

"…The Leviathan is dead. Gone. Dartz is dead," said Seto, turning the group's attention away from Yami and back onto him, "There shouldn't be any way for him to come back. Voldemort's stone wasn't glowing. It was lifeless. But even if that was what he was genuinely after, it doesn't add up."

"How do you figure?"

"Didn't Dumbledore come to us saying it was Voldemort's desire for power and immortality that drew us to him?" said Seto, "The Orichalcos gave the bearer a power trip, but not ability to live forever."

Harry's eyes widened. Immortality? Dumbledore never mentioned anything like that to him so far. Surely the memories he was gathering would soon lead somewhere significant, but nothing about Voldemort wanting to be immortal.

"Dartz was 10,000 years old," said Yami, though he had a feeling the only reason Dartz lived so long was because all of the souls stolen were giving him some sort of life. Maybe. It was a detail he never bothered to dwell much on.

"Yeah. He was 10,000 years old. Now he's dust."

"I think the point Kaiba is trying to make," said Bakura, hovering beside Ryou, "Is that that's not what Dumbledore told us. If that's why Voldemort was after us, why didn't he say so, instead of leading with the Millennium Items? He told us what his spies have reported to him, so unless he was keeping that bit of information to himself…"

"But why would he do that?" Hermione asked, "Professor Dumbledore wouldn't have any reason to keep something like that from you, not when the whole point was protection from the Death Eaters."

Seto's eyes narrowed. "That's just it," he said, "Was he trying to offer protection? Or does he have his own vested interest in having us where he can keep a close eye on us, under the guise of keeping us safe? Because as far as I'm concerned, we're no safer than we were this summer at home. Mokuba and the others are no safer now than they were before this whole thing started."

"Well…maybe he was after the Millennium Items," said Ron, "But didn't you guys even say that unless he's some sort of chosen person, he can't do anything with them? Maybe he found that out, and switched to something else?"

"But the point is that this whole Orichalcos mess was last year, and even if your government chalked up anything that happened to wizards as a Dementor attack, they still knew about what was going on," said Seto. "Voldemort knew about the monsters that appeared everywhere, and the Orichalcos soldiers that were going around. He also knew that we traveled all the way to that fortress in the middle of nowhere."

Seto drummed his fingers against the crook of his elbow. "And supposedly the Ministry of Magic was interested in what was going on, but I don't how much of that was actually true versus him trying to make nice with me."

Yugi was pensive. "Wizards have so much magic at their disposal…." He looked to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "You guys can do things that I couldn't even dream of. What use would Voldemort really want with us? We're not magical by normal means. We're duelists."

Ryou swallowed nervously and turned to Yugi. "It's under the surface, I think. Maybe it's not that we're not wizards – it's how seemingly ordinary people, with nothing more than a card game, managed to stop the darkness."

"So…what, Voldemort went into looking for you guys because he thought you were dangerous?" asked Ron, "No offense, but when that whole thing was going down, you all were Muggles!"

"All the more reason to be suspicious," said Seto. "Clearly there must be some other power at work, because otherwise anyone could have done what we did. And if we truly were dangerous, why wouldn't Voldemort try and get us on his team before anyone else could?"

"Maybe not just Voldemort," said Bakura, "Perhaps Dumbledore too. And even the government. Remember this – it was Dumbledore who claimed it was the Millennium Items that put targets on our backs. That is why we were invited here. But the exact thing that gives us power? We're forbidden to use it. It's not just that they don't want us to fall into Voldemort's hands, they're afraid, and hoping that by sitting around here learning how to blow off our eyebrows and make birds out of the air, we'll become dependent enough on their magic – that they have a clear advantage with – over our own."

"They don't understand what the Millennium Items are, or how they work, that's why," said Hermione thoughtfully, "And it makes them nervous, because they don't have any idea how dangerous you might be."

Yugi suddenly looked horrified. "…And if they were really worried about us, or what we might do…they set themselves up in Domino, right where our friends and family are..."

If the worst-case scenario happened, of what Yugi couldn't begin to think, but if this whole war turned south in the worst-possible way for them and truly arrived in Domino, and they had to break away from Hogwarts, or fight against the Ministry of Magic, how easy would it be for the Aurors stationed to dangle Grandpa or Joey or Mokuba over them to keep them from causing trouble?

Was this a plan all along? In case they found out that everything was a lie?

If it was just a lie, he reminded himself. There was really no legitimate proof to any of this.

"It is an interesting theory," said Yami, sensing Yugi's discomfort, "And knowing that the wizards did try to bungle over covering up the Domino attack doesn't give the Ministry any favors. But there's really no way to test it. We can't just go up to Umbridge and ask her about the Orichalcos, now can we?"

"And I doubt Dumbledore would say anything," said Ron.

"We could sneak into her office," Harry suggested, "We know she usually leaves here on the weekends. And she surely still has friends in high places in the Ministry."

His eyes suddenly widened. "Maybe that's why she's been placed here again! Maybe it's not a matter of Dumbledore not being able to find a replacement for her – what if the Ministry purposely put her back here to spy on you?"

"It would at least explain the private meeting we had with her on the start of the year," said Ryou, and he then looked to Seto, "And she was asking a bunch of probing questions those times she put you in detention – which if it were anyone else, she wouldn't have."

"She was waiting for an opportunity to get to us, either alone or together," said Yugi, "Wasn't it Professor McGonagall who said she had been trying to ward off all of Professor Umbridge's attempts to see us after that first day?"

"Even if that were the case," Hermione began, "Just because Umbridge is here, and maybe spying, it doesn't mean that you'll find anything in her office. And after breaking into it last year, she might even expect something like that again."

Bakura snorted. "Yeah, but I can sneak through places you lot can only dream of without getting caught."

"But what I'm saying is there may not be anything to find in there," said Hermione, "We caused so much havoc last year to undermine her…she couldn't have forgotten…."

"Well, we can work on that," said Yami, "But I think there's something a bit more pressing to worry about. Whether Dumbledore was being truthful or not about why we're really here, it doesn't change the fact that Voldemort still has the Millennium Rod. We need to find a way to get it back."

"But Voldemort can't do anything with the Rod," said Harry.

"He can't, but that was also before we knew there was some sort of ancient freak running around with him," said Seto. "Whatever his interest was, it had to do with the both of us. I would see flashes of Set's memories every time that the Shadow Magus attacked me, and he can utilize the same Shadow Realm as the Millennium Items. And there's no guarantee that with us separated that Set is safe in the Millennium Rod."

"Which is why we need to find him," said Ryou. "Do you remember where you were held?"

"I remember that it was a convoluted maze of a house," said Seto, "But that's it. I never saw the outside of it." He scowled. "Not that I want to go back there, after barely making it out the first time."

Hermione frowned and looked around the room, her eyes finally landing on the crushed cellphone on Seto's bedside table. "Oh!"

"What?" said Ron eagerly, "What is it?"

"Your phone!" Hermione said excitedly, "You turned it into a Portkey, didn't you? Maybe we can reactivate it."

"Dumbledore stripped all the magic off it for that exact reason," said Seto, "He claimed he didn't know who set up the Portkey and didn't want to pose the risk of it sending me back."

Or to go back and recover a dangerous Egyptian artifact….

Hermione's shoulders slumped.

But it gave Harry an idea. "Wait, you used your own wand though, didn't you? Or did you overpower someone and take their wand?"

Seto furrowed his brow and tried to think back. The Death Eater he overpowered in the study…he couldn't remember what he did with that man's wand. But he had found his own when the Portkey was cast. He had to have – it was here with him. "My own."

"We can use the reverse spell," said Harry, "It shows the last spells that a wand cast in like an echo." He looked to Hermione. "Maybe we can use that and try to recreate the exact Portkey?"

She bit her lip. "That I'm not sure about, but we can try. Even if it shows the casting of a Portkey, I don't know if it can redo the exact destination…"

"What do you have to do?" asked Seto.

"I'll need to see your wand," said Hermione. "It's not a very difficult spell."

She was sitting on the floor against the corner of Yugi's bedpost, and set Seto's wand down on the floor in front of her. She drew her own wand from her pocket and held it against the end of Seto's wand.

"Prior Incantanto."

The dormitory was so quiet that they could probably hear a pin drop from the sixth-year room above them. A golden light engulfed Seto's wand, and a wispy shadow of the knitting charm appeared in the air above them.

"That was from last week in the hospital," said Seto.

It was the only spell that appeared.

"…Weird," said Harry, "When my wand connected with Voldemort's, it showed a lot more echoes than one."

"That was Priori Incantatem," said Hermione, "Which is a little different. In your case, because your wand and his have the same core in it, it didn't just show the last spell he cast, it was the last echoes of that spell."

"Oh."

Determined, she held her wand steady and said the incantation again. Another single wisp appeared, again from Charms work Seto confirmed to have done in the Hospital Wing. She continued on, spell after spell, until they reached the last Transfiguration class before term let out for Christmas.

"Are you sure it was your wand?" said Ron, "It wasn't anyone else's? I mean, you had to have been running on adrenaline. It's possible you just don't remember—"

"I remember just fine. Why would I use a Death Eater's wand when I had my own?" said Seto, "It doesn't make any sense. I found my wand and my phone together. I remember casting it. It was how I was injured."

"We're not denying you cast the spell, Seto," said Hermione gently, "But it clearly wasn't with your wand."

Seto shook his head and looked away from them, focusing instead on his damaged phone. He had strong memories of captivity. Of the rather one-sided conversations with Voldemort, of his absolute boredom trapped in the study, egging the guard into a fight, and running through the house to escape. These weren't events that occurred months, even years ago where small details would go forgotten.

It all just happened.

He vividly remembered taking his phone and wand off the fireplace mantle, and was nearly ambushed right after leaving that room. He remembered the flash of light as the spell shattering his leg hit him right as the Portkey activated. His wand was in his hand.

But the spells wouldn't lie. They all watched the last incantations shown well past when he was abducted. No Portkey.

Hermione was right. His wand didn't do it.

An uneasy feeling settled deep in his gut. That would mean that his vivid memory of escape was wrong. But how? Why? Was it some sort of PTSD-related memory loss in order to protect him from something painful?

Or did someone deliberately mess with his mind to change who cast the spell? But why, for such an insignificant detail?

His stomach churned. Maybe the detail wasn't who cast the Portkey. Maybe it was the entire memory. Not even two hours ago he had a panic attack sitting in a chair in Dumbledore's office, and he certainly didn't remember the quick flash of Voldemort and the Shadow Magus before snapping out of it. There was no explanation for where that came from.

If someone altered his recollection of how he got out, what's to say that's not all they changed? How far would they have gone? And why? What detail were they trying to hide? What was it he found out that they had to make sure he didn't take with him back to Hogwarts?

And…if that was done deliberately so he couldn't go back to Dumbledore and alert everyone, did that mean they knew he was going to escape?

…How would they even have known?

He closed his eyes and tilted his head back against the edge of the wardrobe. As vivid as the memories were, now he was doubting everything. And he had no way of knowing what was true, and what was false.

…What really happened in that house?

Whatever he was stretched out on was hard and terribly uncomfortable. He opened his eyes to another dim room. Not the study. Not the cellar. Where the heck was he this time? A cursory glance at each side showed he was on some sort of table.

His arms were bent at an odd angle up and behind his head stretched just far enough that he was able to feel a strain in his muscles, but they wouldn't budge. He lifted his head up and craned his neck around as best he could. Chains were fastened to each wrist, the links crisscrossing to the end of the table and disappearing over the edge.

Whatever they were fastened to had no give. There was no slack in the links. His arms were stuck.

He dropped his head back down against the table for a moment and then lifted it again, staring down at the rest of his body. His legs were free, but that was a short-lived victory considering he couldn't get up. The rest of him wasn't tied by any means, but his body felt pinned down, as if someone had an invisible anvil sitting on his chest, keeping him from moving. Weird.

"Well!" a gleeful female voice from somewhere behind him hit his ears, a voice he hadn't recognized yet. Another of Voldemort's soldiers, no doubt.

The woman behind the voice appeared in his line of sight and stood along the left edge of the table, her long wild curls hanging slightly over her face as she stared down at him with dark, hungry eyes.

He felt his skin crawl.

"This should be fun," she said. There was no hiding the blatant excitement in her voice. She moved down the table, and ran a long-nailed finger down the length of his leg as she went, giggling as he lashed out to kick her.

She caught his ankle easily and slammed it back down onto the table once she was standing near his foot.

"Ah, ah," she said, tutting, keeping a firm grip on him, "None of that. If you try that again, I'll chain those too, and you really won't like what happens afterwards."

She watched him brace his other foot against the table to try and free the one trapped in her grasp. Her grin widened as his shoe couldn't find traction along the glossy surface. "Are you finished?"

Once his thrashing slowed down, she let go and moved closer again. "You're so much feistier than the last one I got to play with. This was worth the wait."

"I'm not a toy," said Seto.

"Oh?" Bellatrix blinked, and pouted dramatically."Are you sure? And here I thought we were going to have a good time together."

"If I didn't say anything to the two idiots that were watching over me in the basement, and if I didn't say anything to Voldemort, what makes you think I'm going to be any different with you?"

"How bold of you to just speak his name like that," said Bellatrix, "But I'm not going to force you to tell me anything. By the time we're done, you'll tell me what that Dark Lord wishes - willingly."

He couldn't help but let out a dry laugh as he yanked futilely on the chain to his right wrist. "Doubtful."

"Well, we'll see about that, won't we?" she perched herself along the edge of the table and loomed over him. "Do you know why you're here?"

He locked his jaw and glared up at her.

"There are a few reasons, actually," she said thoughtfully, and started tallying off on her fingers in front of him. "Avery and Gibbon failed to keep you in the rather nice space the Dark Lord prepared for you. Then you refused to accommodate the Dark Lord's wishes. Then you not only managed to not give in to Jugson but also Mulciber, who specializes in the Imperius Curse, mind you, but you managed to get out of the basement as well."

Her eyes glimmered in the dark. "And because they couldn't handle you, now it's my turn."

"What makes you think I won't get out of here either?"

Bellatrix cackled loudly and slid off the table. She drew her wand from her pocket and dragged it down his leg in the same path she had moments ago, pressing down with more force as he twitched against her.

When she made it to the far end of the table, she grinned devilishly at him and hovered her wand right over his ankle. "Good luck with that."

SNAP.

Seto bolted up as the sounding echo of bones crunching and his own scream rattled his ears, gasping, his eyes wide, heart hammering against his ribs. This felt worse, far worse than the moment in Dumbledore's office days ago.

He leaned back, bracing his elbows into the mattress and closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath. He hadn't had this vision before. Another that he couldn't remember. But was it suppressed by his mind, trying to keep him from reliving the pain of having his ankle broken? Or did someone else – whoever altered his other memory – do this to him?

An involuntary tremor worked its way through his leg, and lingered down in his ankle. He stared at the scarlet blankets tangled about him. What was that? A phantom pain, a brief lingering of Madam Pomfrey's handiwork? It was the first time he had felt it, and his bones had finished their regrowth a week ago.

Seto wiggled his toes and drew his knee up. Even through that pain, it was clear that his ankle was no longer broken, and after a minute the flareup faded back away into nothingness. Like it had never happened at all.

It was a small relief.

His hand reached out, searched for the gap in the bedcurtains, and groped around at his bedside table for his phone or his watch, whatever he could reach first. The phone won out, barely, and he hit the button along the side with his thumb, basking his bed in a bright white light. 2:45am, Thursday morning.

Another sleepless night. Night four of not making it through to morning without waking up, out of four nights of being back in Gryffindor Tower.

What happened to the last time he slept in the Hospital Wing, without any aid, straight until daylight? Was he still too exhausted at the time from everything for his mind to put up a fuss? At this rate, he'd even wish for Madam Pomfrey's supply of sleeping potions, if it would get him through without another of these strange visions and constantly waking in a fit of cold sweat.

Hell, despite the calm silence in his head from Set still being gone, he almost wished the Priest was still here, knowing that Set used some sort of magic to put him to sleep after nights where the Shadow Magus stormed his way inside, leaving nothing but destruction and migraines in his wake.

He dropped the phone onto the small table and fell back into his pillows, frustrated.

Nothing was going properly. The ridiculous knitting charm aside, it took twice as long for him to get through his practical lessons. He couldn't sleep. Almost constant headaches. And these visions that he couldn't remember – they had to be forcing their way to the forefront of his mind for a reason.

Monday's meeting with Dumbledore and the Ministry, and the following spitball with Yugi and the others proved one thing. Two, technically: that he couldn't trust anyone in a position of power, and that at the very least, something was done to him before he managed to get out Voldemort's clutches…however it went down.

All of these moments that didn't seem to have a proper place had to mean something. Each one a missing chunk to an even bigger puzzle.

He just wished he knew what it was his mind was trying to piece back together again.

Just how long do you plan to have this charade carry on?

Voldemort looked up from the map brought to him days ago of the Valley of the Kings. The Dark Priest had been rather quiet lately; this was the first he had spoken to him in three days.

"It is hardly a charade. To act immediately would draw suspicion. This will take as long as it needs."

The Shadow Magus glided around the room, unimpressed. You are placing your trust that he will do the task you wish, yet you have chained the Malfoy child to a similar one and chide his father repeatedly.

Voldemort sneered. "Yet you do not bother me over it."

I could care less of that boy's mission.

Voldemort eyed the Shadow Magus curiously. "Then you would have not brought it up."

I am pointing out that you are a hypocrite. The boy has had his task for months, and has made strides towards your goal –

"Not enough strides."

The Shadow Magus stopped near the fireplace. The Millennium Rod sat in a box upon the extravagantly large mantle. Chains outlined in purple-hued magic surrounded it, keeping the lid from being opened.

You are impatient with him, yet are willing to give Seto Kaiba 'all the time he needs'.

"Until recently, I had only Lucius's child to plan my siege of the castle," said Voldemort, "But Seto Kaiba has performed within a month what no other wizard has managed to do in their lifetime."

No other of your kind has needed what he has done.

Voldemort waved his hand flippantly and returned to the map. "I expect results, and I know that now I will get them."

The Shadow Magus slowly turned, focusing the golden eye on Voldemort. You do not expect the Malfoy child to succeed.

Voldemort stared up at the Shadow Magus's eye. It was glimmering, not as bright as he had seen it activate while he worked over the tomb keeper, and definitely not as much as it had been when he had subdued Seto Kaiba during his bid for freedom. But it clearly wasn't inactive either. Interesting. What was it prying into? The Millennium Rod, perhaps?

"Draco Malfoy's mission was not about success."

…Ahhh…I see. You are punishing the father.

A dark, raspy chuckle sounded from across the room, and Voldemort felt almost a prickle in the back of his mind. There were, at times, most times, in fact – that he forgot that until the strange magical sword was whole again, the Shadow Magus was using him as a conduit. He did not feel the effects most times. It appeared the Dark Priest was correct when stating that he wouldn't have any adverse effects from the power leech.

That was then, when he first emerged from his broken weapon. Since then, one tiny piece had been found near the site where the first fragment was discovered. It hardly helped fill in the gap of what remained missing on the ancient weapon, but it had been enough to make the Shadow Magus considerably stronger.

Strong enough that it was able to be more than a hulking shadow on a wall. He watched the Priest hold the Millennium Rod and sink his claws into the tomb keeper – all without proper hands. How peculiar was this magic that could let him physically react with people and objects, yet if he so chose, he could get up from the table and walk right through him as if he were never there.

The Shadow Magus's growing abilities also allowed him to finally break the tomb keeper, though not in the way he would have liked.

It was remarkable, how strong willed these ancient guardians were, to be able to withstand both the Cruciatus Curse as well as the Dark Priest's own magic for so long. But unfortunately, not strong enough for his mind to unravel into anything coherent.

He allowed Bellatrix one last hurrah with him, just in case there was anything left to drag out of him before her husband disposed of the body.

Another slight pulse was felt and Voldemort scowled. The Shadow Magus was prowling through his head, just as he claimed to have the first night he revealed himself.

"That is quite enough of that," said Voldemort. He was an accomplished Occlumens and Legilimens, and the fact that the Shadow Magus could just brush right into his mind as if his own defenses were never there was rather disturbing. He had no way of separating the strange link that was formed between them, but at least the mysterious priest backed away when prompted.

The magical eye faded. Your plan will not work.

Voldemort bristled. "You are still clinging to bitterness over my sending him back to the school."

Another dark chuckle from across the room. Believe what you will. I am merely warning you that your goal of breaching Hogwarts will not end the way you wish it.

"I fail to see how," said Voldemort, "We both saw him before he departed. He was broken."

Physically, perhaps.

"You are unfamiliar with how our magic works," said Voldemort, rising from his seat. "Despite the time it took to wrangle hold, it will not break."

The Shadow Magus slowly turned to face him, the Eye glowing brightly again, and his voice had a bit of a lift to it. …Are you absolutely sure?

Voldemort narrowed his eyes. "Yes."

…Then I cannot wait to be witness to your foolproof little plan falling apart right before your eyes.

Oh yes, Aknadin was definitely toying with him.

Voldemort tilted his head. "You know something I don't."

He could practically feel the sneer that had to be on the Dark Priest's face, hidden away under the mask.

Perhaps I do….

Voldemort moved to stand in front of the Shadow Magus, clasping his hands together and eyeing him curiously. He mentioned once, back when they first met, that he had once seen visions of the future. On top of glimpsing the end of the war, did he also have sight into what was currently going on?

Did he still receive that sort of second sight?

Or was he just being difficult?

"What will it take for you to stop leading and tell me what that is?"

He watched the Shadow Magus turn, ever so slightly, to stare at the chained box on the mantle. Why his strange companion felt the need to place such a lock upon the Millennium Rod baffled him, for Seto Kaiba had already left for Hogwarts before it was sealed like this.

Whatever Aknadin was thinking about couldn't be good. He couldn't just snap his fingers and teleport Kaiba back to his side, nor could he just blink and make the remaining sword pieces appear. Those were the main things the Dark Priest wanted.

What else was there to offer?

The head turned again, the golden eye focusing on him once more.

Millennium Items are curious objects, he finally said, deflecting, ...and offer certain…benefits to the wielder….

Voldemort raised his brow. Was now really the time for a lesson? He watched as the Shadow Magus waved a hand openly to the air between them, and silhouettes of seven objects, each one surrounded by the same purple-hue as the chains on the box. Voldemort easily recognized one of them as the Millennium Rod, and another as the Puzzle, matching the images of the one worn by the Pharaoh on the ancient tablet.

Aknadin pointed down the line as he spoke. The Puzzle, or I should say the Pendant, in its time was the symbol of The Pharaoh. Despite bearing the soul of one particular king, grants the power to summon and wield the great Egyptian Gods. …The Eye can read minds and peer deep into one's soul. And from what I've gathered, the present-day bearer of it sealed souls into trading cards.

"But now you wear it," said Voldemort.

Not quite. I am not wearing the Eye. The Great Zorc Necrophades has granted me with many abilities, including that of the Millennium Eye, but the true Eye is elsewhere. He moved down the line. The Ring is a compass to whatever the bearer seeks, including other Millennium Items. It can seal fragments of souls into objects…

The Eye on the mask glimmered. He didn't miss the raise of Voldemort's head, ever so slightly at that statement. Now his idle listening was genuine interest. Good.

…the Scales are a judge of the darkness in one's heart. The Key can allow entry into the room of one's soul, and can sense disruptions among the other Millennium Items. The Rod can control minds. In its time, it sealed the monsters of one's soul into the stone tablets. And the Necklace can offer visions of the past and the future.

Voldemort's gaze lingered on the floating image of the Millennium Rod. "It is its own Imperius Curse…"

The Shadow Magus waved his hand again, and the Millennium Items vanished. Whether the power is used or not, they all can summon the Darkness and initiate Shadow Games. If you are chosen to wield a Millennium Item, you are granted certain protections. The bearer of the Necklace, for instance, cannot steal the Key and expect it to work for them. One also cannot just banish another wielder to the depths of the Darkness. The Item must be properly won.

"That is why the Millennium Rod will do nothing," said Voldemort. "Taking it from Seto Kaiba was not enough. I have not won its allegiance."

The Millennium Rod will not yield to you because you are not chosen. The Priests of the Pharaoh held the Items to keep peace and uphold judgement in the kingdom. To possess one of the Items one must pass a test, one you will not receive. You will not be able to take advantage of any of their abilities.

Voldemort scowled. "Then why am I going through the trouble of searching for them all?"

The Shadow Magus chuckled. Until I arrived, it was a fruitless endeavor. However, I too require the Items.

Voldemort tilted his head, trying to think back. There was something about a tablet…

He didn't have to dwell on the matter for too long, for it seemed, despite his warning, Aknadin was still keen to scan through his mind.

In order to revive the great Zorc Necrophades, all seven must be returned to their original stone tablet. It is only then, after he has been restored to this world, will you have the strength you need to crush your opposition. Only then will you win your war.

Voldemort took another fleeting look towards where the Millennium Rod sat on the mantle and began a slow pace of the room. Something still didn't add up properly. Okay, the Shadow Magus saw glimpses of the war, and saw opportunity. But…it would appear they targeted the wrong individual.

"Why Seto Kaiba?"

The Shadow Magus tilted his head, the golden eye following Voldemort's strides back and forth, but he didn't say anything else.

"If in order to bring out this Zorc, we need to find the Millennium Items. But you have expressed interest only in Seto Kaiba and his Millennium Item. Would it not be more beneficial to seek the one who bears the Millennium Ring? That is the one which can find the others. It would make our task that much simpler."

Returning the Millennium Items to their resting place is not enough to revive the Dark One. An eighth key – a failsafe, if you would – was put in place to prevent such an event from accidentally occurring. The Ring will be useful, yes, but none of them will do any good without the final piece.

"…And Seto Kaiba has the eighth key," said Voldemort.

No. A clawed finger pointed to the box on the mantle. He does.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes and looked again to the Millennium Rod. "Then you had no more use for him, once the Millennium Rod was delivered here."

The dragon. Have you forgotten? The Shadow Magus snarled and clenched a fist. It is much harder to dive into the Priest's mind with her in the way than if I had someone else to serve as a distraction. As it stands, you've sent him off on a fool's errand, so now I have to sit and wait.

Voldemort scoffed. "You, in all your power, could not best one dragon?"

If I could, I would have discovered the eighth key by now. Why else do you think I have been pushing to find the rest of the sword pieces?

So they were back to arguing over sword pieces again. Of. Course. "What's done is done," said Voldemort. He turned away from him and returned to the desk. "To both yours and Bellatrix's disappointment, Seto Kaiba will not be returning to us. But if you still need him so badly, I'm sure once he completes his mission it will be much easier to acquire him again."

A mission that will not succeed.

Ah, so now they had come full circle again. He clasped his hands against the worn map. "Why?"

I told you that the Millennium Items granted their bearers certain protections. It is not just against other Millennium Items. The Rod can control the minds of others. But it also gives its wielder a higher mental stamina, a strong resistance to the very same damage it inflicts.

The Shadow Magus let the words sink in a moment before continuing. Seto Kaiba has a stubborn disposition, but after days of weakening himself while you attempted to befriend him, his mind would not have been able to hold out as long as it had. Your lackeys should have been able to cast their spells with relative ease. It should not have taken the Lestrange woman days to finally break him. Even split from the Millennium Rod, it will still continue to protect him.

"Aided by a Millennium Item or not, we did break through his defenses," said Voldemort. "I cast the spells myself."

And the first is already failing. The glamor you placed on his mind is already starting to chip, and his true memories are starting to slip through the cracks. The false ones you planted will soon be seen for what they are.

The Shadow Magus glided forward, the Eye flashing dangerously. And once the last of the lies are gone, he will remember everything. How long do you think it will be before he alerts the Pharaoh – or Albus Dumbledore – to what was demanded of him?

"He won't be doing that," said Voldemort. "Not while I hold his strings."

His mind is already attempting to fight it off, and he hasn't even begun your little project."

Now, that got his attention. He didn't even know what Seto was up to, and he was the one holding the puppeteer's block. So how did the Shadow Magus know?

When he inquired about it, Aknadin laughed dryly. You didn't think…that after all of the work to acquire him, I was going to let him go just like that? I left a piece of myself deep within the depths of his mind, tucked away to observe.

Upon seeing the angered look on Voldemort's face, the Shadow Magus turned away from him and floated back towards the fireplace. He does not know I am there, and I will not interfere with your little quest. I am merely waiting in the wings.

Waiting? For what?

The Shadow Magus grinned under his mask. It is only a matter of time before your spells dissipate. And when that happens, and you still cannot breach the sanctuary of the school, that is where I will come in. We will not need to storm Hogwarts.

The Eye flashed again. Believe it or not, it is in your best interests to let him free himself.

Voldemort snorted. "Oh, I doubt that. Once they realize his mind had been compromised, I imagine you will be caught, and everything we have worked for will have been for nothing."

Do not be too sure. If he remembers what you wanted, he will also know what I wanted. And I already know he and the self-righteous heroes that he has aligned himself with are already trying to plot to recover the Millennium Rod. The knowledge will expedite their mission.

"Even if that were so," said Voldemort, and he bristled suddenly. A flash of a desert tent blinked before his eyes. A Death Eater was requesting his audience. "…I did not leave him any way of returning. He does not know where we are."

The Shadow Magus gestured to the box. But we have the perfect homing beacon.

Voldemort had to concede the point. The Dark Priest's magic was the only thing keeping the Rod from being detected. And if Yugi Muto and Seto Kaiba were going to form a rescue mission over it, well, that would kill two birds with one stone, wouldn't it? To have the Millennium Puzzle to add to his collection, that held the mysterious power of the Pharaoh? And if Potter decided to come and play hero too? Even better.

He could have what he ultimately wanted, the Shadow Magus would have Kaiba back to play as whatever ridiculous plot to get around the mysterious dragon guarding Priest Set.

And if Kaiba was back? Well, Bellatrix would certainly be ecstatic.

Another image of the desert flashed before Voldemort's eyes, and he rose again, irritable. "Very well – your contingency plan is admirable, but that's what it is. A contingency." He crossed the room to stand once again in front of the Shadow Magus.

"I am being summoned to Egypt, where either one of my Death Eaters will be thoroughly punished for wasting my time, or they will have found something of use to us."

I see. The Shadow Magus turned away. I will remain here.

"…You do not wish to come?" Interesting how Aknadin so desired his sword pieces, yet did not even want to journey with him under the chance one was found.

I wish to keep an eye on our little puppet.

"Very well," said Voldemort, and within moments he was gone, leaving the study near-empty.

The golden eye flared brightly at the fireplace. There, he said to himself, gently pushing another true memory to the forefront of Seto's mind.

He had warned Voldemort ahead of time, while the Lestrange woman was having her way with the boy, that he was to be careful of any spells targeting the mind. He never said specifically why, but just in case there was anything he still needed from Kaiba's mind, he couldn't risk them irreparably tearing him apart.

But the sooner that Seto Kaiba came to his senses and fought off his little strings? The sooner that he, and the Puzzle, and the Pharaoh, would fall into his hands.

And he couldn't wait.