King's Jackal

I chapter

Stalking Shadows

Harry groaned softly while trying to fan some cooler air over himself with a news paper - that day's newspaper, which he had read through three times already. It was another hot day in already too hot summer, and he wasn't even allowed in to the goddamn house where the air-conditioning could've saved him from the exhausting heat and the glare of the sun. Not that he minded it that much - it wasn't late enough for the news yet and no longer early enough for Aunt Petunia to bother with acting like a proper housewife, which meant that if he went back now she would've found something for him to do. And he had no intention bumbling about doing annoying, meaningless chores while Dudley lay somewhere near by, stinking like too much lying around and too little showering. At least out in the park it didn't smell like that.

'All things considered, this is not how I imagined this summer would go,' he thought to himself while lying on his back on the park bench. It was so hot that there were no kids outside playing and the playground next to him was completely abandoned, barring one crow idly picking the trash on the other end of the deserted area. 'After what happened last year, I kind of expected the summer to be… darker.'

He snorted softly and shook his head. Really. It was a bit over the top to expect that just because Voldemort was back now the world would rearrange itself into perfect representation of some horror movie cover that would present the situation in a suitable manner. Even if his mental image of storms and dramatic lightning strikes and depressing downpours would've been fitting. 'Voldemort is back and whole world is in danger and it's sunny of all things,' he thought and chuckled lazily. It was so odd imagining the dark lord looming threatening about when he could hear crickets and birds and such.

'I suppose the world doesn't really need to pay attention to us and our fights,' he mused, fanning himself a little harder with the newspaper. 'What are we but little bugs crawling away on its surface? Few hundred years from now, and the world probably won't even remember what we were fighting about, regardless of who wins. So what if we're living in shadows of mad magicians? The world wants sun so it gets the sun, and to hell with our ghost stories. Even when we're living them.'

It was oddly comforting, though. If it had been dark and stormy like in some old fantasy novel, then it would've made Voldemort seem even more serious and scary than he already was. It would've meant that Voldemort's mere presence affected the world. But it didn't - because in the end, even Voldemort was just a man. Powerful, insane man who supposedly had came back from the dead, but a man regardless. Nowhere near powerful enough to change even the world's weather.

Harry closed his eyes and sighed. 'Too bloody hot...' He could've given his whole bag of galleons for a nice cold drink right about now. And a proper fan. And maybe air-conditioning. 'Or a nice pool of icy water… hmm…' he mused while knocking his glasses up to his forehead and rubbing his eyes - sweat was making them sting. He would've loved a dip into the Black Lake, he really would've. 'I wonder how hot Hogwarts is on days like these? Probably not much, being a huge castle and all - and the dungeons are probably keeping it cool and all…'

Thinking of Hogwarts made him think of his friends, which then made him frown and turn his thoughts away. He hadn't gotten much in way of letters from his friends during the weeks in Dursleys, and the letters he had gotten hadn't been much of a comfort. Mostly they were allusive and tantalising, giving bits of information about there being information, and then denying him from having it. 'Can't talk about it in a letter, my arse. Voldemort's back, the whole world is in danger, and not a bit of real information,' he mused a little bitterly. 'Yeah, let's keep the Boy Who Lived ignorant about everything, that way he sure as hell won't know what to do if something happens.'

Yawning lazily, he sat up, pushing the thought of his friends away and instead wondering what it was about hot days that made people sleepy. Rubbing his neck and trying to apply his make-belief-fan a bit better he looked around. The neighbourhood was completely still, silently roasting in the sunlight. Above the asphalt streets the air twisted and curled with the raising heat, and above the sky was mercilessly blue without a single cloud offering any promise of shade or rain.

He sighed. If it would continue like this, it was going to be another unbearably hot and uncomfortable night. Like they hadn't had enough of those that summer. 'A thing like this could make a bloke loathe holidays. I certainly would start, if I didn't already,' he mused, glancing at Magnolia Road where he could hear a car coming closer. It was a cab which, as he watched, parked near the sidewalk and let out its passenger, a man who after paying and sending the cab away, looked around.

'Maybe I should've brought my books with me,' Harry mused while eying the man. He raised his eyebrows at the muggle's clothes, finding the use of leather pants a little odd on such a day. Especially since muggles couldn't do cooling charms. 'It would've given me something to do, although… magical books in muggle neighbourhood, not a good idea. And even if no one is around to see what the books are about, then they'd at least find me using quill a bit odd… probably…'

He frowned. For a moment it had looked like the muggle man, who was looking at a piece of paper, had two shadows. He blinked and rubbed his eyes under his glasses. 'Must've been trick of the light,' he thought and turned his eyes away when the muggle man turned to face him. He didn't want to be caught staring, after all. 'Let's see… what assignments do I have yet to finish?'

Laying back down on the bench and pushing the muggle man off his mind, he thought back to his trunk and the work he had somehow gotten done despite the unbearable heat. 'I probably need to work with the potions essay a little more, I don't think I got that bit about armadillo bile right. And I need to get Hermione look through the transfiguration essay, I wrote it half asleep. Hmm…' he trailed away, thinking of his divination paper for a moment before sighing. No use thinking about that one, as he just made up most of it. 'Heh. Maybe I should write down longwinded explanation of some of my dreams. Trelawney would get a kick out of that one -'

"Excuse me?" heavily accented voice interrupted his musings, and almost startled Harry out of his skin. As the wizard blinked, half blinded by shock and sunlight, a face peered down on him. "Hey. Didn't mean to startle you. I just wanted to ask you something, if that's alright?"

For one to have such an obviously foreign accent, he didn't speak English poorly at all. "Um, what? I mean. Yeah, sure," Harry said, quickly sitting up and facing the man completely. The muggle man was rather short for a male, especially when Harry compared him to the likes of Sirius and Mr. Weasley and Snape who all were more than a little tall. But how tall the man was or wasn't, was secondary to what he wore - or what his hair looked like. Harry blinked a little at the odd hair dressing and the leather vest - was the man really wearing only leather in this heat?

The man grinned at him. "I'm looking for Privet Drive," he said, holding up the piece of paper he had been looking after the cab had left. Privet Drive number fourteen was written on it, with Mrs. Banks written underneath. "Please tell me I'm in the right neighbourhood at least."

"Oh, yeah, it's not far," Harry answered, blinking a little. The man had violet eyes. Who had violet eyes? "Um, just follow Magnolia Road until you reach the crossing to Magnolia Crescent. Privet Drive's just at the end of Magnolia Crescent." Shaking his head, he turned to point towards the south-east corner of the playing ground. "Or if you're in a hurry, there's a short cut there, just between those two houses. It's all covered with bushes and kind of hard to see, but you can get straight to Privet Drive through there."

"Hmm… thanks," the man smiled, stuffing the paper into the pocket of his pants before turning to head towards the shortcut Harry had shown. Curiously, Harry looked after him. The man was even wearing boots. Wasn't he hot at all? Not that Harry couldn't see why the man wore the pants - they fit him rather complimentarily - but still. Without cooling charms Harry wouldn't have worn what the man was wearing, not in this weather.

'Mrs. Banks, hm… wasn't that the woman who moved in spring just before the school year ended?' he thought back to what he had heard Aunt Petunia gossiping. He could remember his aunt saying something about the woman having odd hobbies or something… The thought faded to back as he saw it again. A shade next to the retreating muggle - except this time it wasn't on the ground, but hovering beside the man, in the air, following him.

He blinked, and then got up to his feet to see the apparition from another angle. No, it definitely wasn't a trick of light. A ghost? He had thought that ghosts were usually bound to properties and such - and he had certainly never seen ghosts in the neighbourhood. And the shadow was following the leather-clad muggle man too… a ghost haunting a person? A muggle person? Was that even possible?

'Well, I don't know everything about ghosts, so who knows, maybe they can haunt people... but that's a bit weird,' he thought to himself, glancing around before dropping the newspaper to the bench and following the muggle... who might not be a muggle at all. 'There are some wizards who can pass as muggles, I guess. And when I think about it, this guy isn't doing too good job at it - sure, some muggles dress up like that, but they don't exactly blend in. And if he is a wizard, it would explain the leather thing - with cooling charms they wouldn't be that hard to wear…' He would've loved a cooling charm or two too, and he was only wearing jeans and a t-shirt. 'Alright, focus. It's not that hot.'

As casually as he could, Harry followed the muggle man to the bushes and then out of them, keeping a distance between himself and the man. Hiding in the shadows next to a fence, Harry watched as the leather-clad man looked around, checking the house numbers. "Twenty seven, twenty nine... so fourteen should be that way," the man murmured just as the shadow beside him shifted forward and touched the man's shoulder. Immediately the man turned to the shadow and to the direction the shadow was pointing, before turning to head to that direction.

'Definitely not a muggle, if he can see that... ghost thingy,' Harry mused. That roused a question of how the man hadn't recognised him, though. With sweat plastering Harry's hair back, the scar was painfully visible - and after the whole media mess of the previous year, everyone should've known his face. Yet this man hadn't as much as lifted an eyebrow at him. 'Well, he has a foreign accent, that might be that he comes from a country that doesn't bother with Britain's magical celebrities and what not...' It was bit of a relief to think that there were magical countries out there that knew nothing about him. 'I'd like to visit one of them, one day. But why would he...?'

He stepped out of the shadows and followed the man, who had now found number fourteen and was making his way towards it. 'So, why would a foreign wizard come to Privet Drive?' he wondered, hiding in the shadows of the brick walls that lined the walkway while sneaking closer. 'Or want with Mrs. Banks? As far as I know she's perfectly muggle, isn't she? She's seen me around a few times and hasn't said a word to me - and if she was a witch...'

It was a bit unnerving thought, but he rather doubted that a witch could've moved in to Privet Drive. For one, there were the protections around the place, set there for Harry. And for two... he didn't think Dumbledore would've allowed it. 'That man has too much power over my life...' he frowned and inched closer as the foreign wizard rang the door bell of number fourteen. He was almost close enough to hear if the man would speak. Almost...

The door was opened by a middle aged woman wearing a white blouse and a skirt, who looked at the visitor with surprise - and then squealed like a teenage girl. While Harry stared with mild shock, the short man in leather chuckled softly at the woman's reaction. "Mrs. Banks, I presume?" he said, holding out his hand. "I'm Yugi Mutou. I'm here about a problem you -"

"Mr Mutou!" the woman almost leaped forward, taking the man's hand and shaking it like the world depended on the handshake. "Sir, it's an honour! I had a word that help was coming today, but I didn't in my wildest dreams think you would come personally...! Oh, this... this is...! The King himself here, for little old me, I... oh, I don't know what to say!" She tittered giddily before, looking a bit mortified with herself, moved back a little, blushing. "Oh, my, look at me. Acting like total twit - I do apologise. It's just... oh dear, this is exciting! You didn't to come all the way just for me, did you?"

The leather-clad wizard chuckled and shook the woman's hand firmly. "That is quite alright," he assured with a smile. "I was already in Britain, so the trip wasn't taxing for me. No more than side trip really. Now, about your problem...?"

"Right, of course. Come right this way," the woman nodded, motioning the man to come in. "Are you hungry at all? I could make some tea..."

Harry blinked a little dully as the door closed behind the two. 'King?' he wondered with shock. Whatever he had been expecting, that had certainly not been it. 'A problem, hm? What sort of problem would bring this king-wizard-muggle-whatever-he-is to a muggle area?' he frowned. 'And what kind of person makes a grown woman act like a kid on Christmas?' Harry grimaced, thinking back to some of the reactions he had gotten in the wizarding world. A celebrity, that's who.

Shaking his head at the thought, he looked over the fence behind which he was hiding. The woman had her kitchen window open - like just about everyone in the country, probably. If he would sneak underneath it he could probably hear whatever they would be speaking - unless they went upstairs, that was.

Making his decision, he glanced around and then jumped over the fence. Thankfully Mrs. Bank's had a rather overgrown yard and he could easily hide among the young bushes as he crept closer to the house. The noise made by the overgrown weeds made him grimace, but hopefully it wasn't so loud that someone would pay too close attention to it.

"...in London, but after things got a mite difficult - and my husband ran off with that harlot - I decided to move away," Mrs. Banks was saying when Harry was finally close enough to hear. By the sound of it, she was in the kitchen, probably preparing the tea. "For a new start, and the like. Friend of my Aunt's was selling this place and it seemed like decent enough neighbourhood, so I decided to move in - I thought a quiet neighbourhood would be a good place to perfect my art too... oh, I'm babbling. Do you want sugar with your tea?"

"No, thank you, plain tea is fine," Mutou answered. "So, that was when you started having problems?"

"Right after moving in," the woman agreed. "Things were just fine back in London. They reacted to me as they should and that pesky Cerberus of mine was just about to start thawing - he's been a handful, that one. But then I move here and... nothing. Not a whisper, not a twitch. My oldest, the Fire Princess, even she's been silent and she's usually as much of a chatter box as I am."

Mutou made a thoughtful hum. "Hmm... could be that they're bothered by the move. Did you explain the change of location to them?"

"I did, sir, and I swear they seemed to understand. Well, few of them were crouch about it, of course, but for most part they seemed accepting - few were even excited about going to a new place. Fireball Token was bouncing up the walls about it, even. But..." the woman sighed. "Do you think I've insulted them some how? I always thought we were in good relationship, me and my monsters, but..."

"I don't think that's the case, honestly. You seem to care for your beasts enough, and it's very hard to make your entire deck turn against you. At least one of them should still be talking to you, and monsters usually don't deal with indignation with silence. If they'd be mad at you, you'd know it for sure," Mutou assured while Harry tried to make heads or tails out of the conversation. It almost sounded like they were talking about magical creatures, but... not. Was Mrs. Banks a witch after all? She didn't act like one. And if she had magical creatures stored away somewhere in her house... no, that wasn't possible. No one could hide a Cerberus in muggle neighbourhood. Hell, a creature like that was hard to hide in Hogwarts.

A spoon rang against the side of a tea cup in the house while the two spent a moment in silence. Then Mutou spoke again. "I doubt it is something the monsters themselves are doing. I think it is something about this neighbourhood that makes them quiet," he said. "I am having an odd feeling here myself. I think it's best I have a look at your deck, Mrs. Banks. I should know more once I've gotten the chance to converse with the monsters themselves."

"Yes, of course. Give me a moment, I will fetch it," the woman answered.

As her steps lead away, Harry leaned against the wall underneath the kitchen window and frowned. Deck? Beasts in a deck? As in... deck of cards? That made no sense. Unless they had somehow put the creatures into the cards, and that was like no magic he had ever heard of. No amount of expansion charms could put a creature into a piece of paper, after all - not to mention about it being incredibly cruel to try. Something else was going on then. Were the two speaking in code or -

"Eavesdropping is rude, you know," voice cut through his musings like a knife, and as startled Harry turned to look upwards, he saw Mutou. The man was leaning out of the window, peering down to him with a look of mild amusement on his violet eyes. As the younger wizard froze, caught in the act and by a wizard of all things, the man smiled. "Now what could've made you so curious that you had to sneak in to listen to our private conversation, Mr..."

"Potter," Harry answered automatically and regretted it instantly. Even if the man didn't know his face, there was a chance he knew his name. "I uh... I thought I saw... uh..." he stopped, his eyes widening as he saw the shadow from before, leaning up over Mutou to see him. Harry suddenly felt like running away. He could swear the mass of shadow had red eyes. "M-maybe I should be on my way...?"

"Hmm..." Mutou hummed, his smile widening. "Or maybe you should just come in," he answered and before Harry could say anything, the man was gone. Only a moment later the front door next to slightly quivering Harry opened and the leather clad foreigner stepped out, looking at him expectantly. "Come on," the man said, the shadow peeking out of the house curiously. Swallowing around his heart, which was beating rapidly in his throat, Harry stood up. He felt clumsy and numb as he made his way to the door, and then inside the number fourteen.

"This isn't all of my cards," Mrs. Bank said whole coming down from the second floor. She was holding a small box in her hands. "This is just my main deck. I have the rest of the cards stored away in the attic, but if you want to see them too..." she trailed away at the sight of Harry. "Well," she said. "What is this, now?"

"He was listening in," Mutou answered, oddly cheerful for someone who had just caught a spy, which made Harry even more nervous. "I thought he might like a closer look."

"Are you sure, sir? I know a little the family he lives with, I wouldn't call them exactly open minded," Mrs. Banks warned. "And around the neighbourhood there's some awful rumours circling around about this young fellow."

"But he was still listening which to me seems like clear sign that he should see as well," Mutou answered.

"What?" Harry asked confusedly, as chuckling Mutou more or less steered him towards the kitchen. "Wait, I don't... I'm sorry about listening in, I didn't mean any ..."

"Hush, now. You already made the first move, the shadows will have the next one," Mutou answered and Harry felt a sudden chill creeping down his spine all. As the short man pushed him down to sit by the kitchen table, he felt almost like someone had sat him down on the chain-ridden chair in the Ministry and any moment now he would be forcibly bound down. Mutou merely smiled at him and sat down beside him. "Now," he said, turning to Mrs. Banks. "The deck?"

"Ah, yes. Of course - here," she said, handing the box to the leather clad man. Nervous and a little curious at the same time, Harry leaned in a little to see as the man opened the box. Inside it was really a deck of cards - but not of usual playing cards or the ones used in exploding snap or any other sort of cards he had ever seen. They were cards with pictures and numbers and stars and text in them. Some sort of collecting cards, maybe?"

"You have a Pyro Deck, Mrs. Banks?" Mutou asked while taking the cards out and gently going through them, treating them like they were made of precious china.

"Well, I wouldn't call it that, though I admit that most of my cards are oriented to that direction," the woman answered with a smile while sitting down across Mutou and Harry. "It started with the Princess. She was my first card and I've had her for better part of ten years now. As time went on, she just seemed to... gather a following, I suppose."

Mutou nodded, and took out one of the cards. "It tends to be like that when you find your main monster," he answered, holding the card up and peering at it closely. In the card there was a picture of long haired girl with red robe, with words Fire Princess written above it. "She's in good condition for card that old. You've been handling her with love."

"She's impossible not to love," the woman chuckled before frowning, looking worried. "Is she... is she alright?" she asked, fiddling her tea cup almost nervously.

"Hmm..." Mutou answered and closed his eyes. Confused, Harry looked between the man, the card and the woman and felt like a muggle in presence of wizards all of sudden. Just what the hell was going on? They were talking about the piece of paper like it had feelings and thoughts.

"I can feel her," Mutou murmured. "She's not angry with you and she is alright - so are the rest according to her. But she's frightened. She's... being blocked somehow..." he frowned and opened his eyes. "There's something odd going on around here."

As Harry and Mrs. Banks watched, Mutou placed the deck and the cards down, before reaching for his belt. For a moment Harry wondered if he was going to pull out of wand or something like that, but instead he flipped over an odd, angular holster at his belt, and pulled out another deck of cards. While Mrs. Banks got a sudden look of reverence to her face, Mutou went through the cards, and pulled out one of them. Harry got a glimpse of a man wearing an armour and name that started with the word Dark, before the Mutou held the card up, like showing it to the room.

Harry's mouth fell open with shock. It was almost like apparition, but not quite. In swirl of shadows that flickered along the floor, a man appeared - the same man who was showing the card, wearing a dark armour and odd helmet and holding a metallic staff in his hand. While Mutou stood up and Mrs. Banks covered her mouth in delighted shock, the man in the armour kneeled on the floor, bowing his head to Mutou.

"What sort of magic is this?" Harry murmured in shock but no one seemed to be listening. Mutou, either ignoring him or not hearing him, spoke to the armoured man kneeling at his feet. The words were soft and stern and spoken in language that only the armoured man seemed to understand. Then the man spoke back in same language, shaking his head and making a circling motion with the staff.

"There is a field around this place that seems to hinder shadow magic," Mutou said in English, crouching beside the armoured man and resting his hand on the man's shoulder. Only then Harry noticed how tired the armoured man looked and how the man's head was drooping. "Dark Magician barely got through it."

"A field?" Mrs. Banks asked, frowning. "So it's because of this place that my monsters can't... Can you do something about it, sir?"

"Well, I generally try not to interfere with other people's magics," Mutou answered, patting the other man's metallic shoulder guard almost gently just before the man vanished in lazy curl of shadows. "The field is protective in nature, and probably put up for a reason. I could probably unravel it, but..."

Protective field? 'They're talking about the blood protection?' Harry wondered and coughed softly. Should he tell these two about it? They were obviously wizard and witch of some kind, but they apparently used magics he had never even heard of before... and neither seemed to have any idea about who he was. Either that or they simply didn't care. And a shadow magic? What if they were dark wizards?

"Do you know about anyone else around the neighbourhood who uses magic?" Mutou finally asked, looking at Mrs. Banks. "They might have some idea about the field."

"No, not really. I've only lived here for so long, but as far as I can tell, I'm only user around here," Mrs. Banks answered. "No one around here had any idea about what these are, even," she added, taking her deck and gently shuffling the cards. "So, the reason why I can't reach my cards is because of this place. Can I reach them if I leave Privet Drive?"

"I think so. The field is only blocking the monsters and as far as I could tell, it has done no damage to the cards, so outside the field's influence you should be able to summon your beasts normally," Mutou assured, looking thoughtful. "Still, not being able to reach your monsters in your own home... that can't be too pleasant. How often do you play?"

"Couple times a week. I'm not a monster enthusiast or anything, nor have I ever been exactly dedicated player as it is, and around here I have barely any opponents at all, but I have a card circle in London in which I play - or played, before moving here. I was intending to continue playing with my circle, but the cards fell silent... I didn't dare to play with my cards like that, I didn't even take them out of the house," the woman shook her head and sighed. "I suppose I could've gone and they would've answered me fine?"

"Probably," Mutou nodded, looking oddly sympathetic. "But I understand that a thing like that can scare you, I probably would do something similar in your situation." He stood up. "Now, I think I can do something about this problem. But I will need time and little bit of space that can be sacrificed to the cause. Do you have a corner of the house or some room that you don't need overly much?"

"Well... there's the smallest bedroom, I've been only using it as a closet so I suppose I don't really need it. I will just need to move some boxes out and it can be used well enough," Mrs. Banks nodded and stood up. She gave Harry a slightly uneasy glance and while the young wizard wondered what to do, Mutou pulled him up to his feet.

"Come along now, our little spy," the man said. "I think you've seen just about enough for now."

"Ah," Harry started but stopped, not quite sure what to say. Then he tried again. "What is going on here?" he asked. "What are... those?" he motioned at the deck of cards Mutou was gently cradling in his hands.

"The ancient power of a forgotten world modernised by a man brilliant beyond his era and truly unleashed by the pharaoh of shadows," the short man answered with an oddly cheeky grin, pushing him towards the door. "The next move on this board is yours. If you want to keep on playing, visit a store and ask them if they sell Magic and Wizards."

"What?" Harry asked with shock. Sell magic and wizards? "What the hell are you talking about?"

"If you're meant to know, you will find out," the man said cheerfully and unceremoniously kicked Harry out of Mrs. Banks' house. The wizard blinked with confusion, turning around only to have the door more or less slammed to his face. As Harry stood on the porch, a little bewildered about what had just happened, he could hear Mrs. Banks and Mutou speaking inside.

"If you don't mind me asking, sir... what was that about?"

"Makings of a new duellist, if I am right."

Harry threw a slightly shocked look at the door and finally gave into the instinct to get away and fast.

x

My latest distraction from other stories I should be working on. I had this idea of writing Harry Potter and Yugioh crossover with slash and somehow it turned into this. Warnings for the inclusion of Duel Monsters (Which will be called Magic and Wizards as it was in the manga, because I like that name better... and among wizards it would raise more eyebrows.) and, you know... slash. Oh, and OOCness. Lots and lots of OOCness. Mostly on Yugi's part.

My apologies for possible grammar errors, my excuse is being Finnish and beta-intolerant. If you notice errors that bother you, you can point them out to me and I will fix them.