Alright, alright, alright. ducks the random objects being chucked at her I am very painfully aware that most crossovers suck. I mean, they're just BAD. And, here I am writing one ... I warn you, this one might be no better, but hey, I'm trying here. a shoe hits her on the head Dammit!

So, this is a Harry Potter/ Yuugiou crossover fic, and I'm really trying to make it work, so some things must be assumed. Assume, of course, that Yuugi and Co. know of the wizarding world and vice versa. Assume that their Shadow –power-stuff is an ancient form of magic that closely parallels the contemporary magic, enough that Shadow-thingys can be taught. And then assume that the majority of the male Yuugiou characters are gay. No, seriously, there's some shounen-ai fluff in here, and there may be a lemon side story or two, depending on demand. coughchokeREVIEWcough

Oh, and the characters are obviously grown up ... lessee, Yuugi's 23, which would make Yami ... eh, forget it. He's old. You know that. Everyone else in Yuugi's little group is also 23 (Seto, Jounouchi, Honda, Anzu, Otogi, Ryou, Malik) except Mai who's 31. Mokuba and Shizuka are both 18 (and, Mokuba's bi, just to warn you) and Marik and Bakura are their respective ancient ages. I don't feel like calculating.

And of course, for those of you only familiar with the idiotic American version of Yuugiou, here's a nifty little guide to Japanese names. They are, of course, in the traditional surname-first format.

Jonouchi Katsuya: Joey Wheeler. (now where the hell did they come up with that name?) Honda Hiroto: Tristan Taylor. (Damn Americans.) Mazaki Anzu: Tea Gardner. Motou Yuugi: Yugi Motou (sure, they keep HIS name the same ... ) Jonouchi Shizuka: Serenity Wheeler. (do I even need to say it?) Bakura Ryou: Bakura. In this story, Hikari no Bakura (that is, the light side of Bakura) will be referred to as "Ryou." Bakura/ Yami no Bakura: Yami Bakura Yami: Uh, Yami. Duh. Ryuiji Otogi: Duke Devlin. (Did some American person just pick random names out of a hat?) Ishtar Malik: Marik Ishtar (see, now this mistake is understandable, since "r' and 'l' are interchangeable in Japanese) Marik/Yami no Malik: Yami Marik Kaiba Seto: Seto Kaiba Kaiba Mokuba: Mokuba Kaiba

All Japanese words, phrases and expletives are followed by their English meaning.

Yami to HikariHikari to Yami/

Chapter One: Farewell

Ai, Yuugi,Yami sighed mentally, flopping down onto Yuugi's (and therefore his own) (A/N: Heh ... ) bed. Are you sure about this? I mean, you don't know these people--

"I don't have to," Yuugi replied, shoving a heavy pair of Yami's gold wristbands into his trunk. "I need a job—besides, since when does magic make you uneasy, Mr. King of Shadow Games?"

It's not that,Yami grumbled. I just—I don't know if it's such a good idea to leave Malik alone with Marik. Marik's ... homicidal tendencies are just barely sealed.

/Ah, but they ARE sealed. Marik won't hurt Malik. Stop being such a worrywart,/ Yuugi chided his other half, lightly chucking a pillow at the ex-pharaoh.

"I'm not," Yami said out loud. "It's not Malik I'm worried about, it's the rest of the world."

Yuugi finally wrested his trunk closed with an exasperated grunt. He gave it a sidelong look and a vengeful kick, popping the lid open again and stubbing his toe in the process. He yelped in pain and hopped about on his other foot. Yami huffed in mock-anger. Aibou, are you listening to me?(Aibou—partner, though I prefer to think of it more as soul-mate. Anyway, it's what Yami calls Yuugi.)

"Yeeees," Yuugi moaned in exaggerated agony, pouting adorably. He sat in his yami's lap, staring innocently up at the taller man while wiggling enticingly, all but straddling Yami's hips. He began to bite a soft trail down Yami's neck, humming quietly and smiling to himself.

Aaagh,Yami sighed. That's very distracting.

/Who, me?/ Yuugi asked coyly.

Yes, you,Yami murmured, sliding a hand under Yuugi's shirt.

"Hey, Yuug'!" Yuugi gave a start and promptly fell off the bed, hitting the floor with a loud thud.


Jounouchi opened the door. Actually, "opened" is much too mild a word, since the door bounced violently against the wall, its hinges protesting loudly. Jou reached out a hand to stop the door from hitting him. "Eh, sorry 'bout that," he said, examining the wall for damage. He winced when he saw the large, doorknob-shaped hole in the plaster. "I c'n fix dat."

He glanced up at Yami sitting on the bed, a red trail of bite-marks blossoming on his throat and at Yuugi, lying on the floor where he'd fallen, face flushed in embarrassment, shirt hiked up over his stomach, Jou sweatdropped. "Oops."

Yami reacted first, reaching out a hand to pull his hikari off the floor. "Daijoubou desu ka?" (are you alright?)

"Daijoubou," Yuugi said, somewhat dazed. "Hai, daijoubou." (I'm alright. Yes, I'm alright.)

"I didn't, ah, interrupt anything, did I?" Jou blushed.

Yami, standing behind Yuugi, wrapped a protective arm around his hikari's hips and rested his chin on the shorter man's shoulder. "Yes, you did."

Jou was blushing so furiously that Yuugi wondered for a moment if it was actually possible for people to spontaneously combust. "I—I'm sorry—"

"Oh, it's not a problem," Yami said, tracing spirals on Yuugi's inner thigh and biting his ear gently. "Just get the door on the way out, will you?"

Aibou, I didn't know people could turn that red,Yami remarked, amused.

"Stop it," Yuugi laughed, slapping Yami away playfully. /You're so bad!/

Oh, I can be,Yami purred.

/How is it you can turn anything into sexual innuendo?/

I'm very talented,Yami assured him, teasing the small of his back.

/See, there you go again./

Jou shuffled his feet uncomfortably. "Uh—Yuug—I just wanted to tell you everyone's here—"

"Typical," a harsh voice with the barest hint of a British accent drawled. "It could he his last day on Earth and all the pharaoh would be concerned about is screwing his hikari."

"Hello, Bakura," Yami said in a sugary-sweet tone that scared the hell out of Yuugi. "It'd be such a shame to have to kill you, just when you were going to have a nice, long vacation from me."

Bakura snorted derisively. "As if you could." Ryou tugged at his sleeve.

"I don't think—"

Bakura turned a fierce crimson gaze on his hikari. "Excuse me?" he asked politely, voice laced with barely-concealed malice. "Did I ask you to think?"

"G—gomen n—nasai, Bakura-sama," Ryou let go of his yami's arm, shrinking back in fear. (I—I'm very sorry, Bakura)

"It's alright, ahou," (fool) Bakura said mildly, stroking Ryou's hair. Ryou relaxed slightly, and Bakura suddenly grabbed a handful of milky-white locks, jerking Ryou's head back violently, making the shorter man cry out in surprise and pain. "Don't do it again," he hissed malevolently, that old sadistic grin playing on his face, and Ryou knew he was enjoying embarrassing his hikari like this.

"H-hai." (Y-yes)

Jou, Yuugi and Yami were all pointedly staring into the distance, and Ryou felt the familiar stab of betrayal that he always did when his friends ignored Bakura's abusing him. Ryou laughed bitterly in his head, kicking at the walls of his soul-room as he did so. They had no idea, none at all ... Yuugi, with his loving yami, how could he know what it was like ... he couldn't, plain and simple. None of them could.

"Ryou-kun?" Yuugi put a hand on his arm and Ryou flinched away automatically, returning to reality with a start. Yuugi bit his lip, heart wrenching at the way Ryou refused to meet his eyes.

Aibou,Yami said, there's nothing you can do.

/I can try./

"Ryou-kun, are you alright?"

"Of course," Ryou said smoothly, forcing a grin. He tweaked Yuugi's nose. "Don't worry so much."

Yuugi smiled hesitantly, still concerned by the heavy sadness that surrounded his friend. "You'll tell me if something happens, won't you?"

Ryou's smile faltered for a moment, but he recovered quickly and nodded. "Of course I will, Yuugi-kun ... or should I say Yuugi-sensei now?" he asked, with a faint hint of the old, happy Ryou-smile Yuugi had missed.

Yuugi grinned. "I'm not a teacher yet—don't get all formal on me."

Ryou laughed. "Wouldn't dream of it, sensei." (teacher)

They continued their playful banter all the way down the stairs, and when thy reached the shop Yuugi was startled to see that so many people had come to see him off. He'd known Seto would come, since Jou was practically attached to him at the hip, and Anzu showing up was a given—though Yuugi wasn't sure how many more friendship speeches he could handle.

But Honda and Otogi were a surprise. Honda had become rather distressed and angry when the hikaris had started getting "involved" with their respective yamis, and then when Seto asked Jou out ... Yuugi shivered. He never wanted to see anyone that upset again.

Even more surprising was the fact that Otogi's fingers were intertwined with Honda's. Yuugi raised his eyebrows. "Honda?"

The man in question grinned sheepishly. "Forgive me, Yuug?"

Yuugi smiled. "Of course!"

Mokuba was there too, and Yuugi was startled to see how much they boy had grown since he'd gone away to boarding school. Mokuba was nearly as tall as Seto now, and he'd recently cut his black hair so it just barely brushed his shoulders. Now that Mokuba was eighteen, it was easier to see the Kaiba family resemblance. He was a little thinner than Seto, a bit more effeminate to his brother's broad-shouldered masculinity. He hadn't adapted his brother's billowing-trenchcoat style, preferring a sort of neo- punk look instead. Clad in black bondage pants and a black fishnet shirt (without anything under it! XD) he was a sight to attract many an eye, male and female, which worked out quite well since Mokuba didn't really seem to have a sexual preference.

They'd all grown up. It made Yuugi a bit nostalgic to think of all he'd been through with these people.

Oh, they were all recognizable as the kids they'd once been. No one's personality had really changed; Jou was just as hyperactive as ever, Ryou just as quiet and reserved.

Scratch that, Yuugi thought as his eyes fell on Marik and Malik. Marik spun the Sennen Rod lazily with one hand, toying with his hikari's earring with the other. Malik looked slightly bored and Marik gave Yuugi a cold glare.

After the Battle City incident, a lot of relationships had changed. Yuugi had managed to become friends with Malik, and Yami had become sparring partners with Bakura and...strained acquaintances with Marik.

Malik's hair was pulled into a ponytail, and he'd finally given up his purple midriff shirt and khaki pants (Ryou had introduced him to the mall) and he was wearing a very well-fitting sleeveless black shirt and jeans. He'd refused to relinquish his earrings and other adornments, however; they were reminders of his heritage, he claimed.

Marik looked about the same; same cold lavender stare, same wild blonde hair. He'd changed his attire to some more befitting of his slightly maniacal personality. He'd adapted a sluttier strain of Mokuba's style. He'd pierced his eyebrow and gotten an ankh tattooed on his (and his hikari's) right shoulder. He wore tight black leather pants and a crimson shirt that fit him like a second skin. His lips were painted black to match the jagged black streak he'd dyed in his hair. A dangling chain was attached to the spiked dog collar around his neck, and Yuugi would dearly have loved to pull it had he not known Marik's tendencies to disembowel people for such minor infractions.

Jou was happily scarfing down half a pizza, shaking his now-mid-back-length hair out of his eyes. Seto watched, aghast. "How can you eat that fast?" the CEO asked.

"Opehn mouf, isher' food, schew," Jou replied cheerfully, snarfing another slice. Seto hit him on the head. (Open mouth, insert food, chew. Look, I speak Jounouchi-ese!)

"That was a rhetorical question, puppy," he remarked. Jou glared at Otogi, who shrugged.

"I apologized for that about seven years ago, didn't I?" he said defensively.

"It's not funny," Jou snapped at a snickering Honda. "Bastard."

Ryou smiled. "Mental, all of them."

Yuugi agreed vehemently, though he knew better than to voice his opinion around Jou. He dragged his trunk toward the door where a taxi was waiting to take him to the airport. "I guess I'll be seeing you guys then ... "

"Sooner than you'd think," Bakura muttered to Ryou, who gave him a warning glare.

"We're coming to visit you, don't forget." Honda snatched a piece of pizza from the box in front of Jou, and the blonde growled at him, grabbing it back.

"That's mine, baka," Jou said, resolutely chewing on the now-cold mass of cheese and dough. "Yeah, don't forget to write us and tell us when would be a good time."

"You really don't have to—"Yuugi began, but was cut off by Malik.

"You really think we're just going to leave you there? With complete strangers? No, we're going to make sure it's safe and they treat you well and all. You're our friend, after all."


"Anzu, shut up!" they all yelled. She huffed in anger and closed her mouth, but at least they'd warded off another friendship speech.

Yuugi shook his head wearily. "I don't know if we'll have space for you all ... "

"So we'll get a hotel room or something," Jou said. "Hell, Seto could probably buy—"

"No, Seto could not," the eldest Kaiba snapped. "Stop volunteering me."

Jou looked mildly hurt.

Two weeks later, Diagon Alley, London, England

Che,Yami swore. (Shit.)

Yuugi sighed. /What now, Yami?/

Look at this place!Yami thought fiercely. Crawling with Shadow magic!He shoved his hands into his pockets, shoulders hunched underneath black robes. He'd pulled the hood up over his face, since people generally were a bit suspicious of the two nearly-identical men.

/What do you mean?/ Yuugi wiped a sleeve across his brow. He wasn't feeling well—the beginnings of a truly magnificent headache were pounding behind his eyes.

You're feeling it too,Yami said sympathetically, sliding an arm around his hikari's shoulders. Poor Yuugi, he wasn't practiced at guarding against foreign magics ... even Yami was feeling a bit ill. Do you feel sick?

/Yeah ... kinda ... / Yuugi leaned into Yami's embrace. /Don't ... feel ... good ... / Yuugi collapsed.

"Kusou!" (Damn it!) Yami swore loudly, causing the people around him to cast venomous stares at him. Wizards didn't take well to Muggle-looking people, especially Muggle foreigners who didn't speak proper English.

Yami eased Yuugi to the ground, glancing around desperately for someone who could help.

"Oi!" (Hey!) He grabbed the hem of a boy's deep green robes. "Onegai—"he pleaded, gesturing to Yuugi. (Please--)

"Get your filthy hands off me, Muggle," the pale, silver-blonde boy snapped. He jerked his robes out of Yami's grip. "And speak English!"

Yami gritted his teeth. How dare this whelp speak to him like that ... he was starting to understand Bakura's habit of banishing people to the Shadow Realm.

"Sorry ... could you please tell me where I can find a doctor?" Yami said politely. The pale boy sneered.

"God, you really are Muggles. We don't have doctors here, idiot. Go bother someone else." He stalked off, aristocratic arrogance oozing from every pore.

"Bastard!" Yami snarled, cradling the unconscious Yuugi in his arms.

"Hermione?" Ron paused to look back at the bushy-haired girl. "Hey, Hermione, what's wrong?"

Hermione was standing stock–still, staring into a side street, her fists clenched at her sides. Ron and Harry trotted over to see what was the matter when Draco Malfoy brushed by them and swaggered off.

A man was glaring after Malfoy, his eyes glimmering from inside his cowl. Harry couldn't quite place what was amiss with the man's stare, but something wasn't right.

"I see you've met Malfoy. Can we help?" Hermione asked, and Harry realized that the man was clutching a smaller, unconscious form sprawled in the street.

"Yes, please," the man said, giving them each a grateful look in turn. Harry started suddenly as he stared into the man's violet eyes. "He...he just collapsed ... " He turned his gaze back to the body in his arms, which Harry could now see was a thin, short boy with bizarre multicolored hair.

Hermione clucked sympathetically. "I'd help him, but, well, you know, the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Magic and all ... "

"Sure," the hooded man agreed, and it was clear he had no idea what Hermione had just said.

"Here," she said, oblivious. "Harry, Ron, help us pick him up—we'll take him to the Leaky Cauldron, maybe they've got a spare room he can lay down in."

"Hey," Ron said suddenly. "You're Muggles, aren't you?"

"Now's not the time, Ron!" Hermione snapped.

Between the four of them, they managed to carry the unconscious boy nearly the length of Diagon Alley to the Leaky Cauldron. The shade seemed to do him good; he was coming around slowly.

"Thank you for your help," the hooded man said. "My name is Yami, and this is Yuugi."

"I'm Hermione, that's Ron, and he's Harry."

Yami bowed politely to each of them, drawing back his hood. Ron stared.

"Hey, has anyone told you two that you look alike?"

"Yes," Yami said, smiling at the boy. "He ... I ... oh, Ra, how do I explain this..."

Yami was saved the trouble of answering when Yuugi gave a feeble cough and tried to sit up. Yami handed him the glass bottle the sour-looking witch behind the bar had given him.

"Here, aibou," Yami said gently, brushing the hair out of Yuugi's face with surprising tenderness. Yuugi smiled shakily.

"Domo arigatou, Yami," (Thank you very much, Yami) he said, taking a sip—and very promptly spitting it back out, coughing violently. "Che!"

"Yeah, firewhiskey'll do that to you," Ron said, grinning. "Don't see why they'd let you drink it, seeing as how you're underage—"

"Excuse me," Yuugi said waspishly. "I'm twenty-three, and I am most definitely overage."

Yuugi hadn't grown much in the past seven years; he'd only reached about 5'4". His hair had grown a bit longer and he'd pulled it back into a short ponytail. His eyes still glimmered with that honesty and trust Bakura found so revolting, but they'd gained an awareness, a sharpness around the edges that would make anyone think twice about underestimating him. He was still thin, nearly delicate, but a hint of muscle rippled beneath skin bronzed from the months he'd spent in the Egyptian deserts with Malik and Ryou. It was easy to see how Ron had mistaken them for Muggles (they weren't, even if they didn't do the type of magic Hogwarts students did). Their clothes reminded Harry of Bill's; they'd have blended in well at a rock concert. Both Yami and Yuugi were clad in black leather, although Yami's outfit had a number of silver buckles and chains adorning it and Yuugi's shirt was shorter than Yami's, cut to expose a tanned, muscular stomach. They both wore quite a bit of jewelry in the Egyptian style: armbands emblazoned with the Eye of Horus, rings and charms bearing the images of Egyptian deities, and a tiny ankh even dangled from Yami's right earlobe.

They resembled nothing so much as Muggle punks with an affinity for gold.

"Twenty-three?" Ron asked incredulously. "No way!" He stared shrewdly at Yami. "Well, maybe if you're twins ... how old're you?"

Yami blinked. "Uh ... Five thousand and—"Yuugi clapped a hand over his mouth.

Ron, Harry and Hermione were staring blankly at him, mouths slightly agape.

"Uh ... well ... "Yuugi stammered.

"Thank you for your help," Yami said smoothly, getting to his feet and bowing to them, jerking Yuugi up as well. "We really should be going."

"Oh," Hermione said, looking startled. "All right then."