A New Generation of Priests
I wasn't feeling well tonight, so I figured I'd finish this story up. Um... also, someone brought up something about Yuugi x Draco? Simply put: don't make me that ill again kthxbai. If you're reading this just to get a perverse thrill from the pairing in this, then I'm sorry, but you're reading the wrong fic. Check the rest of the YGO section, I'm sure you'll find something more appropriate to read.
Anywho; I should have the third story up soon. No guarentees though; I need to get started on writing fics for 30Kisses on LJ.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN – SEE YOU LATER
Bakura, with some help from the librarian, had managed to relocate to the hospital wing. He cradled Atemu close, watching Madam Pomfrey getting ready to give the people that had been petrified the antidote. He let out a small breath of relief, absently rubbing the pharaoh's shoulder. Now, all they had to do was wait for Harry to get back, and everything would be okay…
The tomb robber's head snapped down to the bundle in his arms as Atemu stirred, slowly opening his eyes. He blinked, before looking up at him.
"Bakura…?" he asked softly.
"Last I checked," he teased gently. "Are you okay?"
"I think so," he murmured, sitting up gingerly. "What… what happened?"
"Dunno," Bakura replied, keeping a hand on his back. "You started acting like you were having the heart attack from hell; the Puzzle must have been causing it, 'cause it stopped when we took it off."
Atemu put a hand on his chest where the Puzzle was supposed to be, looking around. "Where…?"
He paused, spotting where the Puzzle was resting on top Seto's briefcase. His eyes widened a moment later; apparently the Item had gotten so hot that the briefcase could not take it, and had burned a small indent into it. He gulped, gingerly reaching over to pick it up as Bakura paled.
"Uh oh…" he murmured. "Hey, nurse? Can you revive Kaiba last…?"
Silence reigned in McGonagall's office for a good minute, before a scream sounded through the room. Mrs. Weasley, who had been sitting in front of the fireplace with her husband, rushed toward her daughter, engulfing the little girl in a tight hug. Professor McGonagall was standing behind her desk, a hand on her chest as she gasped for air. Next to her, smiling serenely as always, was Professor Dumbledore.
"Welcome back, gentlemen," he greeted, before pulling out Yuugi's half of the Millennium Puzzle and the loose pieces from his robe. "I believe someone would like to know if you're all right, Mr. Mutou."
Yuugi, shaking slightly as if he was about to break down any moment, went up to the elderly headmaster and took the Puzzle. Working with the experience of someone who had done it more than once before, he immediately started on replacing the jarred out pieces. Meanwhile, Mrs. Weasley had finally let go of Ginny, and was wrapping Harry, Malik, Ron, and a flailing Draco in her crushing embrace.
"You saved her!" she exclaimed. "You saved her! How did you do it!"
"I think we would all like to know that," McGonagall added weakly.
Mrs. Weasley let go of them, and Harry looked up at Malik uncertainly. The Gravekeeper shrugged, balancing the Ring turned Staff on his shoulder casually. Fawkes the phoenix went over to rest on Dumbledore's shoulder as the young wizard hesitated a moment, before placing the Sorting Hat, the ruby encrusted sword, and the remains of Riddle's diary on the desk.
Harry then proceeded to explain everything that had happened over the year. For nearly a quarter of an hour he talked, explaining everything from him and Draco hearing the voice in the walls, to following the spiders in the forbidden forest, to finding the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.
"This is all well and good," McGonagall interrupted, "never mind that you've just admitted breaking at least a hundred school rules to pieces. But how on earth did you survive?"
So Harry told them of the events inside the Chamber. He told of the phoenix's timely arrival, of how he pulled the sword out of the Sorting Hat, how the Millennium Ring had transformed. At that point, he faltered however. So far, he had avoided mentioning Ginny, Yuugi, and Riddle's diary. He looked sadly at Ginny, before his gaze drifted over to Dumbledore, seeking some assistance.
The headmaster obviously got the hint. "What I would like to know," he began, his eyes twinkling, "is how Voldemort managed to enchant Ginny and Yuugi, when my sources tell me he's currently hiding in Albania."
Yuugi looked up from where he was finishing up the Puzzle, swallowing a bit loudly, while Mr. Weasley let out a gasp of horror.
"Y-You-Know-Who? E-e-enchant Ginny?" he asked. "How?"
"It was the diary," Malik spoke up suddenly. "Riddle created it when he was younger. It kind of works like the spirits do." He looked pointedly to Yuugi and his Item to indicate what he meant. "Over time, as a person writes in it, it becomes easy for Riddle to control that person. Now that the diary's been destroyed, however, he wont be able to harm ether her or little pharaoh again."
"I'm s-so s-sorry," Ginny spoke up suddenly. "I d-didn't realize… I found it in a b-book that Mum got me. I th-thought someone just forgot about it."
"I think," Dumbledore cut in before she could continue, "that Miss Weasley could use some rest and a mug of hot chocolate. You'll find that Madam Pomfrey is still awake. She's been handing out Mandrake Juice almost all night. I do believe the Basilisk's victims will be waking up shortly."
Malik jumped at that, looking like he just remembered something. He started making his way for the door, when he looked back to the others.
"Uh… I… um… I gotta…"
"Just go, Malik," Draco said, rolling his eyes.
"Right," Malik agreed. "See you guys later."
With that, he took off out the door, with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley following with Ginny soon after. Dumbledore turned his attention to Professor McGonagall.
"Minerva," he said, "I do believe all this merits a good feast, don't you agree?"
She inclined her head slightly. "I'll leave you to deal with these gentlemen while I alert the kitchens."
McGonagall swept out of the office as Harry's stomach twisted in on itself. What had she meant by that? After everything that happened – after everything they had been through – surely they were not about to be punished for breaking the school rules!
Dumbledore focused on Harry. "I do recall telling you and Mr. Weasley after you crashed into the Whomping Willow that if either of you broke the rules again, I would have to have you expelled."
Ron opened his mouth to object.
"Which proves that even the wisest among us must eat our words," he finished with a gentle smile. "Awards for Special Services to the School will be awarded to all of you, and… I do believe two hundred points for your respective houses will suffice."
Ron quickly clamped his mouth shut.
"Someone, however, is being quite silent in his involvement," Dumbledore continued. "Why so modest, Gilderoy?"
Harry jumped; he had forgotten that Lockhart was with them! He turned to see that the professor was looking around, trying to figure out to whom Dumbledore was talking to.
"Er… Professor, there was a bit of an accident," Draco began. "Professor Lockhart tried to cast a Memory Charm with Ron's wand, and it kind of blew up in his face."
Dumbledore chuckled. "Impaled on your own sword, eh, Gilderoy?"
"Haven't got a sword, sir," Lockhart replied dumbly. He pointed to Harry. "He does, though. He'll lend it to you."
Harry rolled his eyes as the headmaster chuckled again.
"Mr. Weasley, if you would be so kind as to escort Professor Lockhart down to the hospital wing," he requested. "Yuugi, perhaps you should join them; I suspect your other self will be happy to see you safe and sound."
Yuugi nodded, carefully sliding the last piece back into place before getting up and following Ron and Professor Lockhart out. That left Harry and Draco alone with the headmaster. Dumbledore sat down, motioning them into some chairs next to him. Harry and Draco complied, sitting down a bit uneasily.
"First of all, Harry, I want to thank you," the headmaster began. "You two must have shown me great loyalty down in the Chamber. Only that would have called Fawkes to you."
Dumbledore stroked the phoenix, who had fluttered down to perch on his knee. Draco's face broke out into a bit of a lopsided grin, but faded quickly when he saw Harry's silent, somber expression.
"Headmaster," he began, "when I first put on the Sorting Hat, it said I would do well in Slytherin. Everyone thought I was Slytherin's heir for a time too… because I could speak Parseltongue."
"Harry, you can speak Parseltongue because Voldemort – who is the only remaining descendant of Salazar Slytherin – could speak Parseltongue," Dumbledore explained. "If I'm not mistaken, I believe he may have unintentionally transferred some of his power to you when he gave you that scar."
Harry's hand flew up to the thunderbolt shaped scar on his forehead, horrified by the thought of having any part of the dark wizard inside of him.
"Then I should be in Slytherin," he said dejectedly. "The Sorting Hat could see Slytherin's power in me and it –"
"Put you in Gryffindor," Dumbledore finished for him. "Harry, you happen to have many qualities that Salazar Slytherin prized in his hand picked students: his own very rare gift, Parseltongue, resourcefulness, determination… a certain disregard for the rules." The headmaster grinned at that. "Yet the Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor. You know why that is, I think."
"It only put me in Gryffindor," Harry replied, "because I asked not to go into Slytherin –"
"Exactly!" Dumbledore exclaimed, pleased. "Which makes you very different from Tom Riddle. It is our choices, Harry, that define who we are, not our abilities."
The two boys stared at the headmaster, stunned.
"If you want anymore proof, Harry, that you belong in Gryffindor," Dumbledore continued, "I suggest you take a closer look at the sword."
Frowning, Harry got up from his seat and went over to McGonagall's desk, where the silver sword he had pulled out of the Sorting Hat was resting. He picked up the bloodstained weapon, looking it over, the rubies blazing in the firelight. That was when he caught sight of a name engraved just below the hilt.
"Only a true Gryffindor could have pulled that out of the hat," Dumbledore said, a bit of a twinkle in his eye at the irony of the statement.
Harry and Draco just stared at the weapon, still stunned by it all, as the headmaster reached into Professor McGonagall's desk for a piece of parchment and a quill.
"What you two need, is some food and rest," he said. "Though, I would suggest going to the hospital wing and getting patched up before heading to the feast. In the meantime, I'll be writing to Azkaban; we'll need our gamekeeper back." A thoughtful look crossed his face then. "I'll also need to draft a new advertisement for a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Dear me, we do seem to run through them, don't we?"
Draco chuckled as he got up from his seat. "Just make sure the next one actually did the things he says he did, hunh?"
The two of them started to make there way to the door. As soon as Harry had his hand on the knob, however, the door banged open, sending the boys crashing into one another. Lucius Malfoy was standing on the other side, a look of absolute fury on his face. Cowering between his legs, wrapped heavily in bandages, was none other than Dobby.
"Good evening, Lucius," Dumbledore greeted pleasantly, not looking up from the note he was writing.
Mr. Malfoy stalked toward the desk, ignoring the boys and the house elf trying frantically to polish his shoes. Draco, for one, had never seen his father so enraged. Not only were the man's shoes half polished, but also his hair was disheveled and his traveling cloak was askew.
"So!" he exclaimed. "The governors suspend you, but you see fit to come back here anyway!"
"Well, you see, Lucius," Dumbledore began, smiling serenely, "when the other governors heard that Mr. Weasley's daughter had been killed, they thought it would be best that I return. It was like being caught in a hailstorm of owls, so to speak. Also, many of them seemed to believe that you would curse their families if they did not agree to suspend me in the first place."
Malfoy seemed to get paler, but that did not take away the look of rage on his face.
"So, did you stop the attacks?" he demanded.
"We did," Dumbledore replied.
"Well, who was it?"
"The same person as the last time, Lucius," Dumbledore answered, "only this time Voldemort was acting through another, by means of this diary."
He pushed the diary forward on the desk, keeping a close eye on the other man along with Draco. Harry, however, was busy watching Dobby. The house elf was pointing to the diary, and then to Malfoy, then hitting himself on the head.
"I see…" Malfoy hissed slightly.
"A clever plan, really," Dumbledore continued, "because if Harry and his companions had not discovered the diary, Ginny Weasley might have taken all the blame. No one could have proven that she had not acted of her own free will. And then imagine what might have happened. Arthur Weasley and his Muggle Protection Act would probably have become the laughingstock of the wizard community."
Lucius Malfoy shot Harry a venomous glare. Dobby, in the meantime, was still pointing to the dairy, Malfoy, and then hitting himself behind his master's back. Suddenly, it dawned on Harry what he was trying to tell him. He nodded slightly, and the house elf retreated to the corner, twisting his ears as punishment.
"Don't you want to know how Ginny got that diary, Mr. Malfoy?" Harry demanded.
"Why would I care how a silly little girl got it?" Malfoy snapped.
He stepped forward. "You gave it to her, didn't you?" Harry demanded. "When you picked up her Transfiguration book in Flourish and Blotts, you slipped it inside, didn't you?"
Malfoy sneered down at him. "You can't prove that," he snarled. Then, his eyes flicked up to Draco, as if noticing him there for the first time. "What are you doing here with this riffraff?"
Draco's stomach twisted, but he forced himself to ignore it. He made a show of crossing his arms, shooting Harry an irritated look.
"They bumped into me in the hallway, Potter and his merry band of mudbloods," he sneered. "They saw it fit to drag me along with them."
Malfoy fixed Harry with a look of utmost loathing. "I'll have your head for treating my son in such a manner." His eyes flicked over to Dumbledore. "Both of you."
He whirled around, snapping for Dobby to follow as he stormed out of the room. Draco watched him go, waiting until the door was slammed closed, before rushing over to the desk and grabbing Riddle's diary. He shoved it into a bewildered Harry's hands a moment later, a bit of a smirk on his face.
"Trust me. I'm sure my father would love to have that back."
It took a moment for it to dawn on Harry, and he returned Draco's smirk. He hurried off to the door, pulling off his slimy sock as he ran and shoving the diary inside. Draco made a face, trying not to laugh as he started for the door as well, staying just inside and watching as Harry ran up to his father. As expected, his father ripped off the sock, glaring at Harry and murmuring something he could not hear. He was not paying attention to that, though; his eyes were on Dobby… who was happily clutching the sock he had caught.
It did not take his father long to figure out what had happened, and he lunged for Harry. Dobby stood between the two of them, however, and a loud crack later, Mr. Malfoy was sent flying back, landing hard against a wall. He got up shakily, glaring at the two of them, before he hurried off.
Once his father was out of sight, Draco hurried out of the room, just in time to see Dobby jump on Harry excitedly.
"Harry Potter has freed Dobby!" he wailed.
"Congratulations, Dobby," Draco said, amused. "Just do us a favor; don't try to save Harry's life again."
Harry chuckled as Dobby nodded, hopping off of him.
"Harry Potter is by far the greatest wizard Dobby ever knew!" he exclaimed. There was a crack, and Dobby disappeared, leaving Harry and Draco alone in the corridor. They turned to each other, a bit of an awkward silence passing between them.
"You really think your father didn't suspect anything?" Harry asked.
"Dunno, he probably did, but didn't want to say anything," Draco replied, putting his hands on his hips. "I should be safe for a little longer."
"Where will you go if he tosses you out?" he asked, worried. Draco just waved it off, however.
"I'll be okay; should it come to that over the summer, I can always send a note to Dumbledore," he said. "I don't think he'd have a problem helping me find a place to stay."
Harry grinned slightly, holding a hand up. Draco smirked, clasping his hand in a firm grip, before they both started off toward the hospital wing.
The rest of the school year passed by in a blaze of warm sunshine, and Hogwarts had returned to normal once more with only a few differences. Not only were Defense Against the Dark Arts classes canceled, but also final exams had been dropped for that year as a school treat (much to Hermione and Seto's disappointment). Lucius Malfoy had been sacked as school governor, and was also under investigation at the Ministry of Magic for unethical practices. Hermione and Malik were walking down the halls hand-in-hand again, and Bakura was out more often, taking every opportunity to cuddle Atemu he could get.
All too soon, the journey home on the Hogwarts Express came. The whole tribe managed to get a large compartment to themselves on the train. Draco even joined them sometime after the train started moving, having to duck as Fred and George Weasley set off a Filibuster firework at him.
It was a tight fit with everyone, but at least they were all being civil to one another. Atemu and Bakura were snuggled off comfortably near a window; the pharaoh looked a bit disgruntled at being petted like a little animal, but eventually rested against the tomb robber. Malik and Hermione were in a much similar situation, the Gravekeeper with a silly smile on his face as he cuddled his girlfriend. The high priest was out and about, doing a good impression of his outer self… until Ron caught him playing video games on the laptop.
Draco joined the twins in setting off the last of the fireworks they had gotten last summer, much to Harry and Yuugi's amusement. Ginny kept taking sidelong glances at Yuugi, and he finally caught her one time.
"What is it?" he asked innocently. She just blushed and looked away. Bakura snickered, giving him a lewd grin.
"Oy, pharaoh, looks like your other self got himself a girlfriend," he remarked. Yuugi blushed and looked away as well as Atemu elbowed the tomb robber.
The train eventually came to a slow stop, and Harry reached into his trunk for a piece of parchment and quill. He scribbled his number a few times and tore it, handing each of them a copy.
"This is called a telephone number," Harry told Ron. "I showed your dad how to use one last summer. Call me at the Dursely's okay? I don't think I could stand another summer with only Dudley to talk to."
Draco looked at the number from all angles, confused. "What's a 'fellytone'?" he asked. Yuugi shook his head, resting a hand on Draco's shoulder.
"Don't worry about it; you probably don't have one anyway," he commented dryly.
Draco left the compartment first, going back to join up with his goons for appearances sake. The rest of them made their way off of the train and joined the crowd of people waiting to go through the enchanted barrier. Malik turned his attention to Harry as they moved closer toward the Muggle world.
"Your aunt and uncle," he began, "they should be proud of everything you've done this year, shouldn't they?"
"Are you kidding?" Harry asked. "All those times I could have died, and didn't manage it? They'll be furious…"