Yeah, VERY late I know, so no need to tell me.

At least be grateful that I managed to finish this chapter THIS year :D Hehe, just kidding— Put those knives away!

So…(cough) how’s it going?

Anyways…you’ll find out who “the guest” is in this chapter, as well as a brief tidbit on Seto. Things are taking a turn for the worse, this chapter won’t be as light as the previous one, I’m afraid. But it’s not SO dark that you’re gonna slit your wrists or something (leave that to the mountains of angst/abuse fics out there, you know you have that guilty pleasure of reading them :D)

I’d really love to answer your reviews personally, but I can’t really think of a way since the story’s in White Angel’s account and all, and since it’s against the site’s rules to reply to reviews in the author notes. But if some of you could think of something, then by all means, share em’ with me!

This way, you could pester me to update even more! And to avoid feeling guilty about leaving you guys hanging by a thread in some dark abyss (like in the last chapter -.-), I’d be forced to write faster (well kinda, maybe…I think…ahem). Otherwise you’ll only be left wondering whether I’d disappeared off the face of the earth, like in the last five months!

Hee, well, we’ll talk more at the end of this chapter. So read on you greedy greedy little readers.

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Chapter 43:

Prelude to Disaster

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Yami Bakura could feel Ryou fighting down the anxiety building in his chest, but it only grew and grew as they neared the headmaster’s office. Professor McGonagall’s brisk pace, which they matched with a bit of difficulty, made it so that it barely took ten minutes for them to arrive at the familiar gargoyle that guarded the entrance.

Ryou chanced a nervous glance at Yugi, but the smaller boy looked as lost and confused as himself. They barely knew what was going on, McGonagall had unexpectedly dropped by the common room, without any explanation except a vague, “Professor Dumbledore needs to see you.” The grim expression on her face was evidence enough about the seriousness of the situation. Even Yami Bakura, who would’ve normally demanded some answers immediately, restrained himself. This fact only made Ryou worry even more.

The sound of stone grinding against stone snapped him out of his stressed thoughts. The staircase behind the statue spiraled upwards and McGonagall gestured them forward. They obediently complied, palms sweating and minds flitting through possible scenarios that would meet their eyes the moment they opened the office’s door.

Yugi bit his lip. McGonagall looked awfully worried and upset (even now, the deputy head mistress had her lips pressed together in a thin line), and he was sure that whatever Dumbledore’s going to say to them could not possibly be good news. A thought flashed across his mind. Yami glimpsed upon this and spoke before Yugi could voice out his sudden revelation.

/Don’t assume the worst. Besides, Dumbledore assured us that he’d be protected/ Yami said in a soothing voice.

/But what if…Grandpa—you know he wouldn’t stand a chance if those Death Eaters ever—/

“Come on, Mr. Mutou,” McGonagall’s voice broke through their conversation. Yugi blinked and realized that she was holding the door open for him, Ryou had already stepped inside. Taking a deep controlled breath, he walked forward. The first thing he registered when he entered the room was Snape. The potions master stood stiffly just beside the headmaster’s desk, he had a very sour look on his face that clearly said that he wouldn’t be here if he had the choice.

/What’s he doing here?/

Ryou was surprised by Yami Bakura’s sudden question and only managed to reply/I don’t know…/

Strange enough, McGonagall seemed a bit surprised to see Snape as well. “Severus, didn’t Albus ask you to fetch Mr. Ishtal?”

“He did. Unfortunately, Mr. Ishtal decided to take a late-night stroll. The headmaster offered to find him himself instead, whilst I…” the corner of his lips twisted, “watched over our little guest.”

‘Guest…?’ both Ryou and Yugi repeated vaguely in their minds.

Before Yugi can voice out a question, he suddenly found himself tackled and enveloped by a very tight hug. Yami, as a sort of reflex action, took over immediately. Switching minds mid-fall disconcerted him for a moment, and it took a few long seconds for him to have a proper look at the fluff of long dark hair that was currently latched onto his mid-section.

The pharaoh blinked, hardly believing what, or rather who, he was seeing.

“Mokuba?” he managed to choke out in disbelief.

Indeed, it was the younger Kaiba that had desperately glued his arms around his waist. The boy looked tired and worse of wear, scratches littered Mokuba’s skin and his mop of a hair was messy and uncombed. But what struck Yami most was that he was crying.

The poor boy sobbed freely, not even trying to quiet down his anguished cries. Yami did not know what to do, he still couldn’t process the fact that the brother of his arch-rival was here, here in Hogwarts. Does this mean Seto was around here as well? He gave the office a brief glance-over to check.

No. No Seto Kaiba at all.

Though Yami was personally glad that Seto was absent (the last thing he wanted was for the aloof CEO to stay here in Hogwarts), he couldn’t shake off the feeling of worry. It was common knowledge to all that Seto valued his brother’s safety and well-being above all else, and so Yami had to wonder how he could leave his brother like this; in the hands of total strangers, when the boy just looked about ready to fall into pieces. Add the fact that Seto simply despised anything magic-related and would’ve shot the wizards on sight rather than strike a conversation with them made him even more suspicious.

“Oh…Yugi, Yugi, Yugi…Big Brother…he’s…he’s…” Yami heard Mokuba sob pathetically, the boy couldn’t even finish his sentence successfully. “You’re here! I…I didn’t believe them. But here you are!”

Yami placed a hand comfortingly on top of Mokuba’s head. The boy responded by tightening his hold around him even more, still sobbing, “You’re here, you’re here…”

/Yugi…/ he said tentatively in his mind.

Understanding the unspoken request at once, Yugi took over. Try as he might, Yami knew little of comforting people, he would leave this in Yugi’s able hands.

“Shhh…hey, it’s alright, Mokuba. Calm down, I’m not going anywhere,” Yugi said softly. They were in an awkward position, and Yugi had to admit the fact that Mokuba was nearly crushing him with the force of his embrace. Not to mention that he wasn’t faring well with the only slightly shorter boy crushing him to the ground.

Ryou, just overcoming his shock, carefully moved forward. He kept his movements slow, fearing that Mokuba might erupt in hysterics once more. Gently, he gripped the small child’s arm, “Come on, let’s get you off the floor, alright?”

Mokuba looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, he seemed to hesitate for a moment before slowly loosening his grip, allowing himself to be hoisted upright by the white-haired boy. With Mokuba off him, Yugi clumsily got back on his feet.

/What’s going on, Yami? Why’s Mokuba here?/ Yugi said worriedly/And where’s Kaiba?/

The pharaoh remained silent, no more knowledgeable to answer the question than Yugi himself.

Snape and McGonagall were quietly conversing with each other, their voices low and serious. Ryou had successfully calmed Mokuba down enough to reduce the boy’s previously hysterical sobs into sniffles and small whimpers. He had a tight grip on Ryou’s hand, refusing to let go.

Yami Bakura regarded Mokuba with slight distaste. Ryou could almost visualize his other self’s wrinkled nose when he said/The kid’s awfully clingy, huh?/

He pursed his lips. /Oh, hush, he’s obviously been through something terrible. Give him a break/ he said in a disapproving tone.

The tomb robber gave a “Hmph!” in response. /Well, I’m through waiting for answers. I’ve remained silent long enough, I think…Move over, Ryou/ and before his other self could protest, Yami Bakura had taken control of their body. Ryou sighed in exasperation. He knew that Yami Bakura’s compliant silence could only last for so long.

Yugi noticed the change in his friend’s demeanor and unconsciously bit his lip at seeing Yami Bakura’s irritated expression. Mokuba seemed to have noticed the change too, the boy had let go of Ryou’s hand as if electrocuted. His dark gray eyes widened in shock and he involuntarily moved away from the vexed-looking tomb robber.

Yami Bakura glanced briefly at the direction of the frightened boy before turning to Snape and McGonagall. Both professors did not seem at all surprised at his sudden appearance, and barely reacted when he demanded loudly, “What’s the kid doing here? I’m pretty sure Kaiba didn’t ask you to babysit his little brother.”

Snape remained silent, stoically positioned as usual. But McGonagall gave him a look of impatience, “Please, Mr. Bakura, we know little more than you…everything should be explained when Professor Dumbledore arrives with Mr. Ishtal.”

But Yami Bakura wasn’t in a considerate mood. “Well,” he said darkly, “I guess I can’t expect the old man’s lackeys to know anything about this whole fiasco.”

Both McGonagall and Snape’s eyes darkened dangerously. Snape looked particularly furious, Yugi cringed at the cold tone of his voice as he spoke. “A pity indeed that Hogwarts has abandoned its more medieval detention methods, otherwise they should be enough to teach you proper respect. Thick-headed students are always the most difficult to discipline.”

Ryou groaned when he felt the unmistakable fury tremble through the link he shared with his other self. /Just let it go, Yami…please, we’re already on his bad side as it is. Don’t make it worse…/ he kept his tone reasonable and even, but couldn’t help the desperate and tired tone at the end.

He fully expected the dark spirit to snap at him, but to his surprise, Yami Bakura actually entertained his request, closing his mouth just as he was about to bite Snape back with his own cutting remark . A wave of irritation came from the darker Bakura’s link, but nothing more. Yugi noticed that Yami Bakura didn’t appear too happy about being reprimanded, but he uncharacteristically kept this to himself.

He was just about to question his other self about his strange behavior, when their long-awaited host finally arrived.

“Ah, splendid, you’re all here!” Dumbledore said lightly, a small smile on his face. His sudden appearance surprised everyone. Even Yami Bakura briefly wondered how the old man managed to sneak in the room without anyone’s knowledge. “My apologies for taking too long,” he looked at the still-confused looking Malik beside him. “Come on, Mr. Ishtal. Take a seat,” he made a fluid gesture with his wand, conjuring three comfortable-looking chairs in succession. “You two as well,” he said to Yugi and Yami Bakura.

Yugi tentatively took his seat. Yami Bakura on the other hand crashed down his own seat without preamble. Malik looked completely lost, even more so than Yugi and Ryou before, though he could tell by now that this wasn’t their standard visitations to the office. He gathered this from the strangely familiar black-haired boy just beside Yugi. He regarded the boy for a long moment before realization struck.

“Hey, you’re Kaiba’s little brother!” Malik exclaimed, making Yugi jump and Yami Bakura wince involuntarily. Mokuba looked warily at the Egyptian. Malik turned to look at Dumbledore who had settled himself behind his desk, “He’s the one you were talking about? I thought you were talking about Seto Kaiba.”

At the mention of his brother’s name, a new wave of tears dripped down Mokuba’s cheeks. Malik noticed this and quieted himself. His brow furrowed as Yugi moved to comfort the young boy, not at all understanding why the younger Kaiba was here, and crying his little heart out, too.

“What…” he said, “What’s going on?”

“Yes, now that we’re all here, you have no excuse to leave our questions unanswered,” Yami Bakura added firmly.

“Very well…” the headmaster relented. Seeing his request was to be granted, Yami Bakura made his exit, giving control to Ryou once more. Though he knew that the others were somehow used to this kind of behavior from his dark, Ryou gave them (especially the professors) an apologetic look.

Dumbledore’s expression became grave, completely unlike his demeanor when he first entered the office with Malik.

“First of all, I apologize for herding you all up here at such a late hour. But as I promised to you before, I will share to you all developments related to your Items on our part.”

Yugi, Ryou, and Malik kept quiet.

“It is as we have feared…” he started, all the boys hanging unto his every word, “The Death Eaters are on the move. We of the Order have noticed how they seemed to be growing bolder and bolder as time progressed. As you may know, they have already attacked Ms. Ishtal’s museum, and Mr. Kaiba’s mansion before…”

Malik’s blood ran cold, and so did Yugi’s. Yami Bakura and Yami listened with their hosts, both silent as graves. Ryou fought a sudden wave of nausea in his gut.

Yugi looked at Mokuba. Was this the reason why the young boy was here? Protection? But if so, where was Seto? Unless…

“They launched an ambush with the intention of capturing Mr. Kaiba yesterday…we acted too late, by the time we managed to arrive on the scene, they were gone,” Dumbledore pulled out a rolled up newspaper from his robe pocket, a brief glance told Yugi it was written in Japanese. With a swift flick from his wand, Dumbledore laid the paper flat on the desk. The headlines caught their attention immediately. Dumbledore, it seemed, had translated it to English, for the benefit of Yugi who couldn’t understand Japanese due to the language charm.

KAIBA CORP ATTACKED. TWELVE DEAD. KAIBA BROTHERS MISSING.

Beneath the thick printed letters was a black and white picture. It showed a chilling scene. The conference room was swarmed with investigators and police men, on the floor were what seemed to white sheets covering haphazardly-positioned prone figures. They didn’t need to read the actual news article to know what lay under those bleached sheets.

“It is without a doubt that Mr. Kaiba is in Voldemort’s custody,” Dumbledore continued as they stared at the shocking news story he presented to them. “We are not certain why Voldemort has decided to pursue Mr. Kaiba, when you said so yourselves that he possesses no Millennium Item, and unfortunately, we have few possible ideas…” his kind eyes then strayed towards Mokuba’s shaking figure. “We found Mokuba Kaiba alone and proceeded to take him away before the Muggles could arrive. We could not risk the chance that the Death Eaters should return to finish their massacre, it is quite rare for them to leave their victims alive.”

A concerned look overtook Dumbledore’s features. “Due to these new developments, we’ve been debating whether to have all your family members pulled out and brought under the Order’s direct care.”

He then paused, giving the boys a moment to digest the news.

Ryou was wide-eyed, completely aghast, he could not even force himself to speak a word, the dread that had been growing inside him becoming even more pronounced. Meanwhile, Yami Bakura was more angry than shocked.

He could feel Ryou trembling and see his other’s hands shaking ever so slightly, at the end of Dumbledore’s explanation. This was causing the boy even more grief, unnecessary stress, in Yami Bakura’s opinion. And he’d been trying so hard to keep Ryou from feeling such negative emotions as of late.

What Dumbledore has told them proved the fact that it was the magical folk that needed them, not the other way around. The protection Dumbledore promised for Yugi’s grandfather and Malik’s siblings looked less trustworthy now, considering that Seto was abducted so easily.

Ryou suddenly felt Yami Bakura taking his place. It was quite different from the usual way his dark side assumed control, gentler somehow. He even heard the other mutter softly/I’ll handle this for now, Ryou…/ Slightly, bemused, Ryou allowed him to do so. He retreated into his mind, and almost at once felt better, as if a great weight was lifted from his chest.

When Yami Bakura materialized in the outside world, however, his eyes glared fiercely and his lips were drawn in a mocking smirk.

“Well…I guess I can see just how protected we are under your care,” he said with venom.

“Bakura!” Yami hissed sharply, having taken control as well. He too was upset by this turn of events, but there was no reason to make matters worse. There was no need to revive old issues with the wizards again.

Yami Bakura looked at him skeptically, but not without a hint of contempt, “Don’t tell me you don’t feel the same way I do, pharaoh,” he said lowly. Then he turned back to Dumbledore, giving Yami no chance to reply, and said “My host trusted your judgment, and I did too, though grudgingly. But it isn’t at all comforting to see just how well you manage to defend yourselves from these—“

“We fend well enough, I think, considering our position,” Snape remarked coldly.

Yami Bakura only snorted, “Your position?”

“It hasn’t exactly been easy, Mr. Bakura, to keep the Order secret from the Ministry and at the same time protect those connected to the Millennium Items.”

“Well, that just shows the level of competency this order of yours has,” he looked at Dumbledore, “As well as yours, old man.”

“Mr. Bakura!” McGonagall exclaimed, “Professor Dumbledore has been the one personally keeping your host’s father safe, as well as Mr. Ishtal and Mr. Mutou’s relatives. Your ungrateful attitude will help none at al—“

“Personally you say?” Yami Bakura cut in coolly. “Then if that’s the case; he’s to blame for Kaiba’s capture, am I right?” his tone was mocking.

Both Snape and McGonagall looked livid, as opposed to Dumbledore who merely looked at the tomb robber with a kind understanding gaze. Yami didn’t know just how much patience the headmaster has, withstanding Yami Bakura’s none-too-subtle insults with a calm air that amazed both himself and Yugi, but he needed to dampen the other dark’s anger fast. For though Dumbledore looked unaffected by Yami Bakura’s outbursts, Snape and McGonagall looked ready to banish him to another realm. He wondered about whatever drove the two to protect Dumbledore, even with something small as Yami Bakura questioning his abilities.

“Tomb robber,” he said firmly, voice clear and carefully even. Yami Bakura flashed him a look. “Calm yourself. What’s done is done. Blaming the professor won’t change things…you know that. At the very least, we should be grateful they managed to arrive in time for Mokuba.”

Yami Bakura gave him a dismissive snort. “I do not care for the brat,” he said loftily. “What I care about is what Kaiba’s capture will do to us. He may not have a Millennium Item, pharaoh, but he knows we have them. Think; Where will those dark wizards go next after they manage to extract information from your high priest?”

“They’ll go after us. I know that—“

“Not immediately,” Yami Bakura corrected him, “They don’t know where we are…so they’ll go back to Domino. And who do you think will they target then?”

Yami paused, and inside his mind, he heard Yugi voice a shocked whisper. /Grandpa…Jounouchi and the others…/ Everyone who knows even a sliver of information about the Millennium Items was at risk.

Seeing the look of realization dawn in the other’s eyes, Yami Bakura allowed himself a smug yet bitter smirk. “Now you see. In fact, you should be more angered than I…seeing that it’s your friends who are in the frontlines.”

Ryou was struck dumb by this revelation. Though Yami Bakura clearly expressed his disassociation with Yugi’s gang, this did not extend to Ryou. He too, cared about these people. Jounouchi, Honda, and Anzu’s faces flashed momentarily in his mind and it pained him greatly to think that they too will be pulled into this hole of chaos the Millennium Items had once more succeeded in conjuring. Even his father, Ryou thought, was not perfectly safe.

Again, the Millennium Items brought trouble more than they were worth.

“You promised protection,” Yami Bakura said scathingly to Dumbledore, “But you ended up failing and endangering us even more.”

“Professor Dumbledore is not the sole person to blame, Mr. Bakura, if he’s to be blamed at all,” McGonagall defended at once. The usually calm and collected Transfiguration teacher was red-faced, so downright furious that her frame shook as she spoke. The nerve Yami Bakura had to speak of her superior in such a disrespectful way. Nevermind that he claimed to be over three thousand years old - the boy was acting like any teenager; impulsive and hot-headed. “Take a page from Mr. Ishtal and Mr. Mutou’s book and stop jumping to immature and irrational conclusions!”

Ryou immediately felt a tower of anger rise up inside his other self. But before he could do anything, Yami Bakura had exploded.

The ring glowed prominently on his chest, and it was taking every drop of patience that remained in him not to set the shadows loose and feast on the witch’s soul.

/Y-Yami! What are you doing?!/ he vaguely acknowledged Ryou shout in his mind.

He tuned out Ryou’s pleas as he focused on McGonagall. “I am never the one to jump to conclusions, witch,” he said the last word with the tone of an insult, “I am merely taking into account cold hard facts that you fools seem to be too afraid to accept. You blind yourselves deliberately from the truth. You make promises when you clearly don’t have the ability to keep them. And yet you judge me?”

It made him furious to have his conclusions be deigned irrational, when all the facts were so blatantly clear. If McGonagall could not see any fault in Dumbledore, then it was because she didn’t want to. Not to mention that she had the gall to compare him to the pharaoh; that just added fuel to the fire.

“We were better off alone!” He screeched, “You underestimate how well we can defend ourselves. Do you realize, woman, how easily I can kill you…in this very moment?”

McGonagall, despite herself, remained calm, not even reacting to the obvious threat.

A sadistic smile spread on Yami Bakura’s lips. And in an even more sinister voice he said, “Do you know…how easily I can devour your souls? How it will take me no more effort than lifting a finger, to smite this entire castle, and leave your precious students nothing more than lifeless husks?”

This time, Dumbledore rose up abruptly from his seat, a warning look was in his eyes as he said, “Threatening our students is unneeded, Mr. Bakura. I am willing to accept the truth in what you are saying…but bringing innocent lives—“

His eyes almost appeared red as he shouted, “Innocent lives?! You adamantly refuse to involve your students, when you yourselves forced us to become entangled with your feud with this Lord Voldemort you keep yapping about!” the Millennium Ring became even brighter, as if reflecting on the rising intensity of Yami Bakura’s fury. “I do not claim innocence, but my host, even Yugi, and Malik—they were living just fine before you decided to invite them into your school!”

“We are trying to protect—“

“NO! You are not trying to protect us! Even if you are, you’re doing one hell of a crappy job. They got Kaiba, pretty soon it will be my host’s father, Yugi’s grandfather, and then it will be the Ishtars—Isis and Rishid—“

Yami was unable to do anything as Yami Bakura just let it all out. Part of it was that he didn’t know how to stop the rampaging tomb robber, but another part was acknowledging the truth in the other’s words. Dumbledore was still eerily calm, and Snape and McGonagall were as stiff as pillars as they braved the onslaught of words Yami Bakura was shouting at their headmaster. Mokuba only watched with wide frightened eyes, Yami knew that the only thing preventing the boy from crying was the shock inflicted by Yami Bakura’s words. Yugi was silent inside him, merely watching the scene unfold as he did. And Malik…

Malik had his head bowed, his hands clenched tightly at the edge of his seat. The blonde’s frame was shaking.

He didn’t know why, but Malik felt himself get worse and worse as Yami Bakura ranted on. He was wondering why the tomb robber seemed awfully vehement as he shouted just how bad their situation just became. Personally, Malik thought that the other knew something, something far worse than what he let on.

And then he heard Yami Bakura mention Isis and Rishid, and it was as if something stirred inside him ever-so-slightly. In that moment, the fact that his siblings were in danger seemed to be forcibly pushed into his mind. The anxiety and fear he felt went on overdrive, Malik almost felt as if he was about to throw up. He gripped the edge of his seat, barely managing to stay upright as waves of nausea mercilessly assaulted him again and again.

Yami Bakura was still speaking, his words washing over him, “They will stand no chance—the reincarnated priestess is powerless without the Tauk—“

Isis. Those Death Eaters…what would they do to her…? Malik knew that his sister would never willingly expose the secrets they’ve kept for over three thousand years now, Isis was too loyal to the pharaoh. She’d rather die than betray Yami…

‘She’d rather die than put me in danger once again…’

And Rishid. His loyalty to Malik, even after Battle City, had no equal. He was willing to sacrifice his own life to save Malik from his other personality, this remained unchanged even now.

‘And whose fault will it be, should they be captured, tortured, killed by Voldemort?…Your fault…’ the words rang in his head, the accusing voice his very own, only harsher and more sinister.

Sweat started forming on his forehead. Malik felt a headache forming steadily. ‘Ugh…am I sick or something?’ he brought a hand to cradle his head. ‘This…this almost feels like—‘

“Malik! You idiot, what are you doing?!” the voice broke through his thoughts, and though it was obviously angry and panicked, hearing it somehow seemed to ward of his sickly feelings at a moment’s notice.

Malik blinked, and was surprised to realize that he’d been gripping the sides of his head so hard his nails left bloody crescent marks on his skin. Small rivers of blood dripped down his temples. He looked at the reddish tips of his fingers. “What…I’m bleeding…”

Someone was shaking him very hard. “Oy! Malik! Snap out of it!”

His strangely blurred vision tried to focus on a white blob that was in front of him. Slowly, the image sharpened and Malik discovered the blob to be Yami Bakura. The tomb robber had a panicked look in his eyes and his hands were tight around Malik’s arms as he shook the boy out of his stupor.

Yami was standing just behind the tomb robber, looking worried. Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall were also staring at him, though they looked more curious than worried. “W-What are you staring at?” he said, surprising himself at the slight slurring of his words.

“It looked like you were having some sort of …” Yami trailed off. “It looked like you were in pain,” he said instead.

Malik shrugged off Yami Bakura’s hands smoothly. “I’m fine! Minor headache, nothing more…too many things to think about, you know,” he said casually. “And Bakura here was screaming his head off,” he looked pointedly at the white-haired boy. The remark wasn’t accusatory, more of teasing. And so Malik was puzzled when Yami Bakura only remained quiet, not even throwing back one of his usual sarcastic remarks.

The look Yami Bakura was giving him was unreadable, and before Malik could discern any more, the spirit turned away.

“We’re done here,” the tomb robber said rather abruptly. He stood up and gave Dumbledore one last long look, “If you are as wise as these people seem to believe, then you’d heed my warning…”

“Mr. Bakura...”

“Do what you want,” he said, “Just don’t place the blame on me should the situation get worse.”

Dumbledore gave him a weary look but relented, “Very well, if you are convinced that you are right…”

Yami Bakura’s eyes flashed, “I know I’m right.”

“Then…we’ll act immediately,” he looked at Yami, “We will contact the Japanese Minister directly, inform them of the less-secretive parts of our situation, and they’d be able to take your grandfather under their wing. I will insure that his protection will be beyond mere spells and charms, I’m sure the Japanese Ministry can afford a few of their aurors to watch over the elder Mr. Mutou.”

Yugi knew that this was not a hundred percent assurance that his grandfather will be spared of all harm, but he was still thankful. Even though Yami Bakura was thoroughly convinced that Dumbledore and the others were only protecting them for their own gain, Yugi could just feel that the old man’s kindness and concern was genuine.

“Thank you…” Yami spoke for his host.

Dumbledore nodded before turning to Malik. “As for your sister and brother…they are at the middle of their stay in the United States. The E.A.M.U is still dutifully carrying out my orders from before, and will continue to do so until we’re sure that we’ve eliminated the threat. In addition, I will personally ask a previous student of mine to accompany your siblings…he has already been in-contact with your sister, so I’m fairly sure it would be no problem for him.”

“I…That would be…good,” Malik said wryly, not knowing what else to say.

“Mokuba will be staying in the castle. Finding sleeping quarters will be no problem and I’m sure it would be better for him to be close to people he’s familiar with,” he gave the small boy a kind glance.

“We’ll visit you whenever we can, Mokuba. As soon as tomorrow, if you’d like,” Yami said gently. Mokuba responded with a watery smile.

“Your host’s father is in Egypt, and like with Mr. Ishtal’s family, I have the E.A.M.U. watching over him,” he said as he looked at Yami Bakura. The tomb robber grunted but said nothing more.

“In addition, I will make it a habit to check up on them personally at least once a week, set up and fortify my own protective charms, and if you want, give you a detailed report of my visit.”

Malik and Yami were quite impressed by the headmaster’s thoroughness. Yami Bakura, however, was unconvinced. “You do that,” he said.

“So I shall,” Dumbledore said meekly, “I only ask…Mr. Bakura, for you not to judge me as quickly as you do. We are allies in this battle, not enemies…unless you believe in the latter, and therefore force us to be so…”

--

Yami Bakura watched Malik walk with Snape until the two disappeared around the corner, headed for the Slytherin dungeons. He breathed deeply and exhaled, as if trying to expel his stress out of his body. What had happened back there?

One second, he was shouting at Dumbledore’s face, and then the next thing he knew, Yami was shouting at him, yelling something about Malik. Yami Bakura almost felt his heart stop dead when he turned around, about to yell back at the pharaoh, when he spotted the blonde Egyptian clutching his head. It looked like Malik was having some sort of internal battle, the way he was hunched over, as if struggling to keep something under control.

He had assumed the worst. And by the way Yami looked, the pharaoh was thinking the same thing as well.

It barely took him five seconds to rush to Malik’s side and attempt to literally shake the boy out of his seizure. At first, the other boy’s features only seemed to contort more in pain, and Yami Bakura thought that this was it; the disaster the tarot cards were foretelling.

And then Malik stopped shaking, his hands relaxed at the sides of his head. Slowly, he looked up, giving the others a glimpse of his sweat-drenched face. Malik’s eyes were unfocused. For a moment, Yami Bakura feared that Malik’s eyes would narrow into that intense glare he was so familiar with in the Battle Ship finals.

But Malik was fine and apparently recovered quite easily from the strange attack, managing to convince himself that it was only a very intense sudden headache. Even though both the pharaoh and Yami Bakura perceived it to be more.

/Yami, what’s wrong with Malik?/

/He says he’s fine/ Yami Bakura answered Ryou simply, even though he believed otherwise. Keeping Ryou oblivious to the foreboding event that concerned Malik was still one of Yami Bakura’s top priorities.

/You seemed convinced otherwise/ Ryou tentatively said.

Yami Bakura gritted his teeth, of all the times Ryou had to be observant. Why can’t his light stay blissfully ignorant as usual? It would save them both so much trouble. Since he couldn’t come up with a suitable reply, Yami Bakura remained silent.

After a short moment, Ryou sighed. /Nevermind, he relented /Would you mind letting me out now?/

/I’ll walk us back to the dormitories, I’ll give you control then/ Yami Bakura said, with that, he brought his barriers up without giving the other boy a chance to question him any further. He looked at Yami, who was standing beside McGonagall. He and the pharaoh needed to talk.

He walked towards them and gave Mcgonnagal a nasty look. “We can walk back ourselves, thank you.”

The professor looked down at him, nostrils flared in anger. Yami flashed Yami Bakura an annoyed look before looking apologetically at McGonagall, “We’ll just go ahead, professor, Bakura and I have…we need to discuss some things…”

McGonagall seemed placated by Yami’s polite request. She gave the two Gryffindors a calculating look, her lips pursed all the while. “I trust that you’ll get right to bed afterwards?”

“Of course, professor,” Yami said loudly, attempting and not-really succeeding in drowning out Yami Bakura’s, “You want to tuck us in just to be sure?”

“You are very fortunate that Professor Dumbledore requested me to overlook your blatant display of disrespect,” McGonagall said almost wearily, looking at the tomb robber. “I will never understand how such a mild-mannered and kind person like your other self could put up with you for so long.”

“Practice,” Yami Bakura replied loftily. He then strutted away, gesturing for Yami to follow, “Come on, pharaoh.”

After hastily muttering a “Goodnight” to McGonagall, Yami jogged after Bakura to catch up. The more sinister dark had already turned around the corner and appeared to have no intention whatsoever of slowing down his brisk pace and waiting for him.

They didn’t speak for a while, Yami thinking that Yami Bakura wanted to make sure that they were really alone before initiating the conversation. Almost a full minute passed before the first word was spoken.

“Yugi?” Yami Bakura said at the corner of his mouth. He didn’t look at the shorter duelist and maintained his walking pace.

Yami answered, “I told him to rest, he’s sleeping in his soul room.”

He nodded. “Good.”

A moment of silence, Yami became aware of the biting cold that swept over the castle. He wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck.

“Was that…what happened to Malik…” he ventured carefully, “Do you think…”

“I don’t think it’s what my predictions were referring to,” Yami Bakura said, voice hard and stiff, “It’s probably just a prelude, a warning.”

“So…it’s going to happen soon.”

Yami Bakura stopped walking. His head was bowed, and from where Yami stood, he could see his clenched fists.

“Bakura, maybe…I dunno…if we did warn Malik—“

“Like I told you before; I don’t want to play into fate’s hands. We could never be sure whether we’d be helping the situation or making it worse.” Yami Bakura’s voice was irritated and weary.

“That’s just it; we’re not sure!” Yami said exasperatedly. He understood the other’s fear of causing the chain of events that could possibly lead to their fall, but why was he so adamant about doing nothing at all when it looked like doing so would produce the same outcome (as far as things were going) anyway?

Yami Bakura’s head snapped up, his eyes were practically glowing with rage. “If you feel like being responsible for the rebirth of Malik’s dark side, pharaoh…then by all means! Go on ahead! Maybe you want to tell him now? I’ll even accompany you to the Slytherin dormitories!”

Yami was taken aback by the other’s outburst. “I don’t—“

“After all, you’re the savior of the world, aren’t you? Lord knows what it would do to your conscience if you failed to eliminate the threat,” his brown eyes narrowed.

“I’m not going to eliminate Malik!” Yami countered

Yami Bakura snorted. “So you say.”

“It’s more like something you’d do, anyways,” Yami growled.

Yami Bakura never felt inclined to punch the other’s face more than now. But he restrained himself. He knew getting along with the pharaoh would be difficult. He didn’t really expect to get along with him as well as he did with Malik. Unfortunately, Yami was the sole person he shared the secret of the tarot cards with. So not there was not much choice except to tolerate each other.

“Malik…mustn’t know,” he said with a tone of finality.

“That particular fact isn’t really helping.”

“You think so? Well, do you have any suggestions?” Yami Bakura said sarcastically. Yami remained silent, Yami Bakura snorted, “I guess not.”

“Wait,” the other said abruptly, “Just…consider the possibility that telling Malik won’t cause some disaster. If the future according to your readings doesn’t change, let’s say…after around a week or so from now…I want you to at least think about telling him. Maybe it would actually help, maybe us leaving him oblivious will be the cause of him losing control.”

Yami saw Yami Bakura scrutinize him for a moment. The tomb robber gritted his teeth, the pharaoh’s request was somehow reasonable enough. Though he wasn’t so sure that he’d actually do it, he was willing to give it the benefit of doubt for now.

“Fine. But I’m not guaranteeing anything.”

“Thank you,” Yami sighed, truly grateful for the tomb robber’s compliance.

Yami Bakura merely grunted. “He’ll be pissed off when he finds out that we’ve been keeping this from him for so long.”

‘And his birthday’s coming, too’ he winced inwardly, ‘Talk about bad timing…’

--

He could feel something bitingly cold encircling his body. Still half-conscious, he shifted a bit, and found the bindings around him to be nearly unmovable. His back was against something hard; stone, he guessed numbly.

A pair of tired yet still cool-as-ever blue eyes slowly opened. His vision sharpened, and the first thing he registered in his sight was…

‘What the—this is…’

A large expanse of stone, crumbling and clearly ancient, was laid out in front of him. Engraved all over it were hieroglyphics, some already indecipherable due to the tablet’s age. But there, smack at its center, was him and Yugi, forever posed in a duel.

It was the Tablet of the Nameless Pharaoh. He remembered it well, considering Isis Ishtar forced visions in his mind of that ancient battle before, and the not-easily-forgettable image of his and Yugi’s ancient selves. But why was it here? Wasn’t Isis supposed to be guarding the ancient artifact in that museum of hers?

And…why was he here, he couldn’t remember. Everything was blurred, his memories fuzzy.

“Where…where am I?” he croaked, voice strangely raspy and hoarse. His head was swimming, and he felt awfully dizzy. He moved to cradle his forehead with his hand but was only reminded of the rather constricting position he was in.

He blearily looked down at his body. He was still wearing his customary business suit, though said item was now dirty and stained. Chains were wound up all around his torso, pressing his body against the stone pillar tightly and also holding his arms firmly at his sides. He struggled for a moment, testing the chains’ strength.

Even after a minute of wriggling, his bindings didn’t loose an inch. So he stopped, this time focusing to recall what had happened, and what led to him being tied to some filthy old pillar with an ancient tablet displayed in front of him and it what seemed like as some sort of medieval torture chamber. He had a strange feeling he was not in Japan anymore, he was fairly sure there were no castle theme parks in Domino City, and being quite knowledgeable of the industry due to handling Kaiba Land (though confident of its success, he still made it a practice to check up on his competitors), he knew of no industry that could afford something as extravagant and realistic as his current setting.

A completely ridiculous thought floated on his head, which he immediately blamed on the bearable yet irritating migraine he currently had; Maybe this was a real dungeon.

Seto snorted, dismissing the childish thought at once. Mokuba might believe such things, were he be the one to wake up in his place, but—

His train of thought stopped dead. ‘Mokuba!’

Everything rushed back into his mind in a frenzy; The council meeting, greeting the curious English investor, the blinding lights, Mokuba’s blank soulless eyes, that damnable magician controlling his brother, Mokuba’s tear-streaked face as he watched Seto being dragged away…

The boy had then rushed towards him suddenly, having been released from whatever spell he was subjected to, only to realize that they were taking his older brother away. One of the English men waved the infernal rod and Mokuba was pushed back with such force he crashed against the nearby wall. Seto had felt his blood boil and his feet moved at its own accord, intent on getting beside his dear brother. But then he registered a flash of red at the corner of his vision, and he blacked out. They didn’t even give him a chance to say goodbye to his brother, even after he complied with their demands. They even went as far as to knock him unconscious.

“Bastards…” he growled. “If they harmed Mokuba, I swear I’ll—“

“My, my, aren’t you a fiery-tongued one…What a welcome change…” the voice sounded amused, the tone light, though Seto could feel the coldness behind the man’s words.

“Who’s there?” Seto demanded. He tried to look behind his shoulder, but the chains did not allow much movement and the pillar obstructed his view.

“Tsk tsk tsk, manners, Mr. Kaiba…is that any way to speak to your host?” whoever it was said mockingly. The voice sounded closer than before.

“Some host you are,” he spat. “I agreed to come quietly, didn’t I? And yet you felt the need to tie me to a pillar.”

A chilling laugh echoed against the damp stone walls. “I guess I’ve been rather…paranoid lately, my visitors recently had a nasty habit of disappearing right in the middle of our…bondings,” he paused, Seto had the feeling the man was taking a moment to smile. “But do not worry, Seto Kaiba…”

The brown-haired teenager heard sharp yet deliberately slow footsteps walking towards him. Strange that he didn’t hear them before.

“I’ll make sure that you’re stay will be…memorable,” Something black walked into his vision. The man was wearing a ragged yet undeniably sinister-looking cloak that seemed to move with a non-existent wind. He caught a glimpse of a white clawed hand poking out of the figure’s dark robes. And then suddenly, he found a face, all too-snake-like to be human, inches from his own. If Seto hadn’t been tied down, he would’ve jumped back in shock.

The man’s face was pale, a deathly white that couldn’t possibly be natural, his eyes were slanted and cruel, his nostrils slits that didn’t look human anymore. Seto felt fear bubble in his gut.

The man gave him a wicked fanged smile, “Lord Voldemort, after all, is always the most gracious, most generous host, one can ever hope for…”

--

I know you probably want to strangle me. Unfortunately you can’t, because you don’t know who I am, so HA!

Joking, joking :D

Well, Kaiba’s in deep poopies, poor guy. And Mokuba’s traumatized. Not to mention Malik’s…experiencing mental difficulties (haha, oh I love that guy). Yami keeping a secret from Yugi is definitely NOT good (for their relationship). And Bakura’s protecting Ryou’s emotional health :P

One reviewer asked whether there would be a Bakura/Malik pairing in this fic. White Angel did give me free reins, but no, I’ve decided to keep this story yaoi/shonen-ai/slash-free. You’ve got like a zillion yaoi fics out there, no need to add this one in the blender, am I right?

Don’t get me wrong though, I admit that I’m a yaoi fan (like around 90 percent of the YGO fandom). But I know my boundaries. You’ll probably murder me if I DID decide to pair Malik and Bakura, and say I’m ruining a perfectly good story or something. Don’t stone me when I say I do personally like that pairing though.

But rest assured, I’m not gonna let my personal interests get in the way of the story. You have my word!

Now that I’ve eased your souls…I’m gonna turn my attention to my OWN fics (which have been collecting dust for a while). I’m sorely tempted to advertise them, but I won’t because it would make me look…bad. Maybe next time :D. THEN you could see how differently I write when I’m not dealing with TNS.

Pray that the next chapter will come faster than this one. I’ll tell you right now, that things are about to get…very nasty for one of our characters. And I strangely feel excited about writing that part…You wouldn’t want to miss it!

And since this note is long enough, I’d just like to end this with a thank you and a heartfelt “sorry” for taking so long.