Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Point of Origin ❯ The Invading Quiet ( Chapter 3 )

Thanks to Joy for beta'ing.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Yu-Gi-Oh! are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling, Kazuki Takahashi, Konami, Warner Brothers, etc. and is being used in this fanfiction for fan purposes only. All situations, opinions and characters not belonging to J.K. Rowling and Kazuki Takahashi are the intellectual property of Alecto Perdita.

Sunday, 8th July 2001
5:59 AM, GMT +1:00
Grimmauld Place Number 12
London, England

Harry fought against the gray haze overtaking his mind. The undeniable feeling of vertigo tugged and pulled at him. He fell ever deeper into the desolate mist-- fog… A scream reverberated through the chambers of his mind before it was suddenly muffled by the cold unforgiving stone walls erected by denial. He felt the pressure that pushed at the unseen obstacle that blocked his connection with Voldemort. The overwhelming rage shook the very foundation of the invisible. Ever so carefully, Harry let down that shield and allowed himself to be drawn into Voldemort for the first time in almost two years.

He was floating…floating…staring at the grimy stone of a dungeon ceiling. Drip drip. Water condensed and descended. He twisted in his position in mid-air. How curious that he was not seeing this through Voldemort's own eyes.

A form chained to the wall. It was hard to see in the dim light of fire thrown off the fissured walls and shadowed corners. Blood and pain reeked in the air, stank with the scent of dying decay. The woman lay limp in her capture.

"Crucio!" The languid voice that spoke the incantation was truly despicable.

She arched her back as if reaching for the heavens to save her. Her voice was broken, raw from torture. Blood running from her wounds like a leaky faucet. The heavy sound of metal rubbing against each other and the wall echoed and echoed. There was no other sound.

She looked up at him suddenly, with voluminous sapphire eyes. Her uneven complexion was testament to both her long captivity in darkness and natural tan. She looked at him, through him. She stared. Those dry and cracked lips fell open and agape. And he felt her, reaching out to him with an unheard voice.

"Summer's Child, defying thrice fold. Defying law, defying logic, defying death."

Harry felt himself drawn into her this time, into her madness, into her trance.

"Betrayed thrice fold by love, by blood, by grandeur."

He fought to keep a grip over himself but his fingers were slipping, slipping over winter ice.

"Take these sins and wash our hands clean. Free us of our burden. Offer thyself to the altar and be our sacrificial lamb."

Harry awoke to utter darkness and tangled in sweat-laden sheets. The gray haze stole over his room at Grimmauld Place Number 12 in reality. The sun would soon peek over the horizon and offer its deceptively benign grin to the world in the light of another day closer to Apocalypse.

Sunday, 8th July 2001
8:00 PM, GMT +1:00
Grimmauld Place Number 12
London, England

It had been two days since Hogwarts was reduced to rubble. Harry watched the proceedings of first meeting of the Order of the Phoenix since the fall of Hogwarts with a great dispassion. The immobile Dumbledore sat in the corner, staring with unseeing eyes. No, the wizard had not died. Voldemort had done much worse than to kill the man. It was as if the Headmaster's soul had been taken through a Dementor's Kiss. What a frightening thought that Voldemort could now accomplish that on his own.

The numbing feeling that had taken over his life since his vision did little to change his perception of the dilemma facing the world. The wizarding world had fallen into chaos since the collapse of Hogwarts. The people screamed for the Boy-Who-Lived to save them from their terror. Harry was tired, far too tired to deal anymore.

A comforting hand landed on his shoulder. He gave Remus a grateful but small smile as the man settled down into the chair next to him.

He looked toward the head of the table, a table McGonagall had transfigured to fit the full convening of Order members. The seat at the head remained abandoned. No one was prepared to take it from Albus. The essential players were all seated to the right and left of the power chair, arguing on strategies and plans. Most disturbing was how the ranks of the Order fell through without Dumbledore. The man had held the Order together and too many of its secret to himself. All the members were at a loss as to how to face the coming days.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the rest of the "junior" members were seated in chairs lined against the kitchen wall. They had no say in these proceedings. Harry turned away from the table to observe his friends. Hermione was far too busy trying to get her laptop to function in the magically laden atmosphere. Ron looked somewhat hopeless as he watched the adults argue back and forth. Only Ginny met his eyes, full of confidence and warmth.

Harry rose to his feet slowly, watching as Remus' grin widened. His insides seized with a sort of fear he had never felt before.

"Quiet."

His voice was far too low to be heard over the clamor of the adults. He cleared his throat.

"Silence!"

He had put all his force, mental and magical, behind the command. Pots and pans fell off the kitchen walls and more instruments jumped from the cabinets. Mrs. Weasley threw him quite the dismayed expression. Harry could only brush it aside. The other arguing adults, the most avid of them being McGonagall and Snape, turned to glare at him with a mixture of reproval and surprise.

Harry could feel his voice quiver as he spoke. He shouldn't have done that but what's done was done. "With all due respect, we're getting little done by arguing. We might as well just save Voldemort," a few in the room shifted uneasily at the mention of that name. "The trouble and present ourselves for him and the Death Eaters to slaughter."

"And I suppose, Mr. Potter," drawled Snape. "That you, in all your infinite wisdom, would know how to best rectify the disaster at hand."

"No," Harry whispered. "I don't but anything would be better than this. You're squabbling like children without any thought as to…"

Hermione chose to speak up at that moment. "Harry's right. What consensus have you been able to reach since you've all got here?" she was greeted with no reply. "I would think the most logical first step would be to figure out how Voldemort did what he did. We know that he's acquired some new power but what?"

Remus nodded in agreement. "Very good, Hermione. I have no doubt that there will be others such as Minerva and the Ministry to deal with wrapping up the loose ends. We are not here to worry about the state of wizarding mindset. We are not here to play psychologist to the people's psyche. That is not our purpose. We are the Order of the Phoenix. No matter how much Albus tried to hide it, we are a militant group formed to combat the Dark Lord and his organization." Just a glimpse of the wolf's feral nature shone in those amber eyes. "We must be just that."

Many of the Aurors in the room murmured quietly in agreement.

Remus continued. "Our purpose is also intelligence as no war can be fought successfully without it. We must remember our function. It is division of labor. We must play our part in this war."

Harry grabbed Remus' hand and pulled him to his feet. He ignored the curious glance the man threw him as he drew Remus toward the table. Harry pulled Remus pass the rank of Ministry officials, Aurors, and Unspeakables in their rank eyeing them with suppressed admiration. He drew him pass the Hogwarts head of Houses and Hagrid eyeing them with uncertainty. He felt Remus' steps slow as they reached the seat at the head of the table.

"No, Harry, don't."

"Someone has to keep the peace at these meetings. Just think of yourself as a mediator if you get uncomfortable." Harry smiled softly and all but shoved Remus into the chair.

His godfather stared at the table full of people before him with bewilderment. Somewhere from the back of the room, someone, Harry suspected Ginny, began clapping. Soon the whole room followed, except for Snape, who simply turned away with an expression of unmitigated disgust. His professor would never get over his dislike of either of his godfathers.

Remus reached out to grasp and squeeze Harry's hand. "I can't do this alone."

Harry squeezed back. "You're not going to. We're not going to."

He clung desperately to his own words.

Monday, 9th July 2001
11:21 AM, GMT +1:00
Grimmauld Place Number 12
London, England

Severus hated being idle. It was the one quality that he despised most in both his students and his colleagues. He was more than idle. He was trapped, by any and every side. His days as a spy for the Order were over. He absently caressed the scar that his former Master had so graciously left on his left cheek as a reminder. The Dark Mark burned against his skin steadily. The Dark Lord would not allow him to forget his betrayal.

Minerva, in her misguided affections, wished to protect him from his inevitable doom. Moody, in her never-ending paranoia, still believed him to be on the Dark Lord's side and acting. Between the two of them, Severus was under house arrest indefinitely. It was annoying not to be allowed to act. At least they had the decency to set up a temporary potions laboratory for him.

"Egypt, I'm certain of it."

Severus could feel the bile rising in his throat at the mere sight. Granger and Weasley huddled over Granger's laptop, stealing small kisses when they thought no one was looking. Severus couldn't believe that he had been put to working with Granger to discover exactly what the book the Dark Lord had been carrying was. The Gryffindor know-it-all of all people… He may as well just save the Dark Lord the trouble and kill himself now. He wasn't sure how much more of this humiliation he could take.

He shifted in his seat by the fireplace and rearranged the large tome on his lap. He looked over at the pile of thick leather-bound books to the side of the armchair. He had gone through most of the Black Library in just the last few days. Nothing, he had turned up with nothing. They had little to work with other than Weasley's insistence that the symbol on the cover of the golden book was of ancient Egyptian origin. It was quite the shame that Bill had been the one to be captured. The elder Weasley would have been a great deal more helpful than the rest of them.

Granger had come up with the brilliant idea that they weren't looking in the right place. After all, the magic the Dark Lord had utilized was not any that they knew of. It would be just like Granger to find interest in such an impractical and useless subject such as Magiology. Magic was simply magic as wizards practiced it. Severus loathed the way that…foreigners viewed magic as an art form, making it little more than unnecessary pomp and ceremony. Magic was a science.

He tried not to think of the conversation he had with Minerva after the meeting. It had been most unpleasant. To think that she would be called back… He tried not to think of the chaos that would ensue. He did not think she would want to come back but she would, if simply out of the duty she owed to Albus. He was not sure if he wanted her to come back. Were they ready to face each other again?

Frustration and anger boiled over in him. Weasley and Granger were not helping his mood either. Neither was Potter, who wandered in and out of the room periodically on "breaks" from his training. Severus refused to allow himself to be controlled like this anymore. He may have owed a Life Debt to James Potter but that have been repaid through watching out for Potter's miscreant son for seven years now. He owed a Life Debt to Albus Dumbledore but Albus was not there to make use of it now. He was not going to be held here.

He stood suddenly, and Granger and Weasley looked at him strangely. He closed the book in a not so gentle manner. He dumped the tome back onto the seat and approached the fireplace. He reached for the Floo powder kept on the mantle. In light of the recent events, the Order would not be able to bring new people into headquarters with Albus out of commission. They instead installed a limited and private floo at Grimmauld Place Number 12 to certain locations. The floo was closed at all times unless activated by certain magical signatures such as Minerva's or his. Floo had never been his favorite method of travel but it would do to get him to his destination.

"Professor…"

Granger…

"You can't leave, Professor McGonagall-"

Severus cut her off. "I am well aware of what Minerva said. I see little use to being here at the moment. I would very much rather attend to my House and those who need me. If Minerva wishes to know where I am, you may tell her I am with Draco Malfoy."

"But-"

Severus heard nothing else as he threw the powder into the flames and declared, "Safe House Number One." He managed to step out of the fireplace with the little dignity he felt he was left with. Draco immediately rushed into the room with his wand drawn. Severus nodded in approval. Even though the safe house was warded, one could never be too careful.

"Sir."

"Draco."

"I'll get some tea."

The boy rushed out of the room. Severus frowned. There was something different about Draco Malfoy. He wasn't sure if it was just the manner in which the boy carried himself or something more. He shook his head. Then again, the boy had never been allowed to act as he would have for most of his schooling years. Severus knew about the Imperious curse Lucius Malfoy had kept his son under since the first year. He recognized the symptoms of one kept under a long-term Unforgivable.

Severus gazed around the room. Safe House Number One was a muggle flat somewhere in London. The furnishing was sparse as it had hurriedly been established for Draco. Other safe houses were established also but they thought it best to keep Draco Malfoy in his own and not with anyone else. Draco could not hide at Grimmauld Place Number 12 with him since their Secret Keeper, Albus, was out of commission. Not that a great number of the members of the Order wouldn't have already prohibited such a move as to allow the son of a well-known and convicted Death Eater into their headquarters.

Draco returned with a tray of tea just as Severus settled down into a chair at the small parlor table. Severus watched the boy pour out two cups of tea with meticulous care. Draco would not meet his gaze. It would take much time for Severus to get used to this new Draco Malfoy.

"How have you been passing your time?"

"I've been reading mostly. Professor McGonagall was kind enough to bring me some books." Draco paused as if to think for a second. "How's Potter?" He finally sounded like Draco Malfoy again.

Severus scowled at the thought of the boy. He lifted the tea cup to his lips and sipped. Draco shifted uneasily in his seat again. "Mister Potter is as well as he can be. He pulled quite the stunt at the meeting last night, putting Lupin in Albus' seat. Lupin, indeed." Severus sneered and took a moment to revel in his hatred for the werewolf. "I expect that show of unmitigated Gryffindor quality means the boy is suffering no ill effects."

He watched a small smile spread over Draco's cherry red lips. "Potter would do something like that."

Severus swore he heard a hint of veiled fondness in the blond boy's voice. Draco continued to watch the steam rise from his cup. He had yet to touch it.

"And Weasley? He did survive the attack, correct?"

"I regret to inform you that Mister Weasley has survived to breed future generations with Miss Granger to continue to annoy us. May I ask why the sudden interest in the Golden Trio?"

Draco did not answer him. He continued to stare at the table, the floor, anywhere but at Severus.

"Draco!"

Still no reaction.

Severus frowned. It was almost as if Draco had relapsed into his Imperious state.

"I just thought that Potter would be really upset if Weasley hadn't survived… When will I get to see him again? Potter, I mean…"

Severus grabbed Draco's chin and forced the boy to meet his gaze. It was far worse than Severus had originally suspected. The dilated pupils… The shortness of breath… The flushed cheeks… The high body temperature… Severus' eyes widened in shock and he jumped back. His chair clattered to the floor with a loud thud.

"Morgan's Curse! [1] You're Amoured with the boy!"

Draco only hung his head in shame.

Monday, 9th July 2001
11:27 AM, GMT +1:00
Grimmauld Place Number 12
London, England

Harry leaned forward to rest his chin in the palm of his hands as his arms were propped up on his knees. He wasn't really sure what he was doing sitting across from a comatose Dumbledore. Harry regretted to say that there was little lost love between the two. Ever since Sirius' death in his Fifth Year, their relationship had only become more strained. While Harry was resigned to obey Dumbledore, no matter how begrudged the manner, Harry found it too hard to care for and admire the elderly man as he once did.

Harry was not blind to the fact that Dumbledore was an important piece in this game of war. While Harry had the utmost faith in Remus, he knew that Remus' affliction would always be viewed with fear and disgust. All it took was a few whispered words and other members of the Order could rise up in revolt against Remus.

"Headmaster, Sir," Harry hesitated for a moment. "If you can hear me, please give us a sign."

Silence stood firm in the room.

Harry sighed. The tide of the war had literally turned overnight. The collapse of Hogwarts entailed consequences that reverberated throughout the world. One thing that Harry had been surprised to learn of was that there were Order members in other countries. It wasn't until now that he finally comprehended what an international problem Voldemort was coming to be viewed as. In America, a senator, who catered to both the Muggles and magical folk, had been "assassinated." The lead singer of the British rock band, Ashes to Ashes, was killed by a Death Eater wannabe in Japan. Harry couldn't help but wonder about the extent of Voldemort's organization in relations to their own.

Harry stood and walked over to the Black family tree hanging on the opposite wall of the room. He ran his fingers down the silver threads, digits hovering briefly over Sirius' burnt name. He quickly turned his attention elsewhere. It would always be too difficult to think about Sirius. He searched for the name that had caught him by surprise last night…

Silka Black…

Harry had been surprised by Snape's reaction to this woman. His tone and his facial expression was one composed completely of venom, hate, and disgust. It was mind-boggling to Harry that Snape could hate someone even more than himself and his father and Sirius. This was the oversea operant that Harry and Remus had learned of last night after the meeting. She was also one of the few and foremost researchers in the field of magiology and was currently teaching at a combined Muggle and Magic university in Japan. McGonagall, and Remus later agreed, that her expertise would be useful in researching Voldemort's power and devising a way to combat it.

"She may stay in whatever rural backwater she has been hiding in for the last few years. I shan't have her back here in Britain!" Snape had snarled before he stormed out of the room after another heated debate with McGonagall.

McGonagall had assured Harry that Silka Black bore no relations to Sirius Black or to the rest of the Black family. He couldn't help but wondered if she was the daughter of another ostracized son of the Black clan. The tapestry was magical and recorded all the births of the Black lineage. He could not find what he was looking for though. He could find no Silka Black.

Tuesday, 10th July 2001
12:34 PM, GMT +1:00
The British Museum
London, England

Severus scowled at the muggle clothing he was forced to dress in. He felt bare without his robes. Granger, on the other hand, looked far too comfortable for his liking. To think…he had been reduced to working with Granger. The thought would have been hilarious if it had not been so true. Yes, he was bitter. Then again, bitter would be the understatement of the millennia.

"Professor? Are you feeling fine?"

His scorn only deepened. How dare the little know-it-all bint try and act like she was concerned? Another part of his mind reprimanded him for being so unnecessarily harsh of opinion. However, it was hard to be of sound mind and cheer when the Dark Lord had marked it open hunting season on him.

"I'm perfectly fine, Miss Granger." He snapped.

He turned back to stare at the entrance of the British Museum. He did have to admit that the architecture was a perfect example of Greek revival style. The courtyard was swarming with people. The only fact that made it all the worse was it was tourist season. Not only were there obnoxious school brats but also ignorant and boorish Americans tourists. He suppressed the urge to groan in frustration.

"Now the sooner we're done with this, the sooner I can get out of these atrocious excuses for clothing."

Granger smiled faintly at him. He turned away from the sickening sight.

"Of course, Professor."

They made their past the guards at the entrance and into what was called the Great Court. Over them, they could see the bright blue sky through the glass window. The noise in the lobby was a quiet lull but one that echoed more louder than thought possible. Severus waited as Granger flipped through the papers for their meeting place. He noted with slight interest the large library situated in the circular room just a hundred feet in front of them.

"Are you quite done yet?"

"We access the office via the landing in the East Stairs."

"Who are we meeting with again?"

"Malik Ishtar of the Department of Ancient Egypt and Sudan."

Ishtar… Ishtar… Why did the name sound so familiar?

After about nine minutes of fighting through the crowd, Severus found himself in the quiet office of the Department. He left Granger to deal with their appointment and the receptionist. The reception room was decorated much like a travel agency. The walls were plastered with posters of landscapes from Egypt, of pyramids and the Sphinx. One curious poster showed a stone tablet depicting a battle between two figures. Over one of the figures was a dragon but it was not of any species that Severus could recognize. It was labeled "Prayer to the Dead."

"Professor?"

He turned back to his former student. "Let's get going then, Miss Granger."

The receptionist led them to the office at the end of the hallway to their left. She opened the door for them and told them to wait in the office for Mister Ishtar. Severus found it odd that the receptionist would allow strangers to wait in her employer's office without supervision. Upon entering the office, Severus realized they were not alone. A strangely familiar white-haired man stood by the window behind the desk. It wasn't until that man turned around to face them that Severus remembered exactly who this man was.

"You?!"

Severus stared impassively at the other man's shocked expression. The other man tried to get his composure under control.

Granger stared curiously at him and the other man but knew better than to ask questions.

"Malik Ishtar I presume then?"

"Oh no," The man shook his head. "I'm Ryou Bakura, please call me Ryou. Malik should be back soon, I hope. Please have a seat."

Granger appeared to have taken a sudden interest in Bakura. Severus refused to acknowledge him as Ryou. "Ryou, that sounds like a foreign name. You're not British, are you?"

The office door flew open with a bang before Bakura could answer the question. As Severus had thought, the other man, the one with the gold-tinted hair and lavender eyes from that day, came bursting into the room. "I'm so sorry, Miss Granger. I had family business to take care of."

This new arrival, who just had to be Malik Ishtar, looked up at Bakura in surprise. "Ryou, what are you doing here? Don't you have class right now?"

Ryou nodded. "I was leaving the flat for class when the post came. We have a letter from Atemu-kun."

"Pharaoh? Not Yugi?"

Pharaoh... Now that was an odd name to call someone...

Bakura shook his head.

"I have great news! Rishid's awake! I knew moving him to St. George's was a good idea."

"That's wonderful, Malik. Maybe we'll get some clue as to who took Isis-san now."

"He kept babbling about a book when I went over to see him though. The doctors are worried that the coma might have idled his brain."

Out of the corner of his eyes, Severus could see Granger take on a rather thoughtful expression. She seemed to have made some revelation. It annoyed him but she hoped she would share soon. He didn't like being kept in the dark.

Bakura must have noticed Severus' annoyed expression because he approached Ishtar and planted a soft kiss on the other man's cheek. "That's great Malik but you should attend to your guests first."

Ishtar took off his suit jacket and tossed it over the back of his seat. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting," he seated himself down at the table and glanced at his boyfriend. "Want to sit?"

Bakura shook his head with a slightly scandalized expression.

Granger actually smiled at the couple. She pulled out her papers again and laid them on the table. "Thank you for taking the time to meet with us. I'm Hermione Granger and this is my professor, Severus Snape."

Severus sneered at the two but they didn't seem put off by his attitude one bit. Perhaps his glare was no longer as potent as he thought.

Ishtar nodded. "I am Malik Ishtar and this is my boyfriend, Ryou Bakura."

"The Head of your department told me you would be the man to see if I wanted an artifact identified."

"Of course, do you have the photographs you mentioned in your email? I'm very interested in seeing what you have today."

"Right here."

These weren't real photographs. Minerva and Filius had constructed them with magic and the memories of those who had been there that tragic day. Granger handed the photos over the Arabic man.

Ishtar took the photos gingerly. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the object depicted. "The Book of Millennium Magic…"

Granger practically leapt out of her seat. "You recognize it! Can you please tell me about it!"

Ishtar threw the photos onto the desk. His posture went rigid and screamed of hostility. "I see who you are now." He made a move toward the top drawer of his desk.

Severus drew his wand before the other man could even touch the handle of the drawer. "Don't move."

Bakura stared at Severus in shock. "A wooden stick… Like the ones with those corpses!"

Ishtar smirked. "I don't think that'll do much."

"Professor, don't!"

"Silence, Miss Granger. You have no idea what you've gotten us into."

"I would say the same for you!"

The Arab dodged the jelly-leg hex Severus threw at him and retrieved a gold-colored wand from his drawer. He raised it and pointed it at Severus. "Drop it." His voice sounded oddly more powerful than ever before.

Severus found a strange sense of detachment overtake him. It was familiar. Then it hit him. This was what the Imperious curse felt like. He felt his grip on his wand slacken though it did not leave his hand. He fought to maintain control over his own self. He would not lose.

Ishtar narrowed his eyes further. "Don't bother fighting it. You'll lose in the end. Drop your weapon now."

"Malik, stop. This has to all be a misunderstanding."

"Don't you see Ryou? The book. Rishid was talking about the Book of Millennium Magic. Isis was kidnapped in connection with the book. That was what Rishid was trying to tell me. And then these people show up in my office asking about the Book. They did something to Isis."

Granger shook her head furiously. "No, we did nothing of that sort to Miss Isis. We want to know about the people who kidnapped her too. We're not your enemies."

"Quiet." Ishtar aimed the wand at Granger and threw her off her feet with an invisible source. He turned his attention back to Severus. "Do as I say. Drop it."

"Stupefy."

Ishtar had to break concentration to dodge the latest spell. Severus took this opportunity to tackle the other man. They rolled across the floor, trying to gain dominance and disarm the other.

"Enough!"

Severus suddenly found himself pinned to the wall of the office, surrounded by a golden aura. He saw Ishtar was in a similar situation next to him. His wand, as well as Ishtar's weapon, was lying on the floor. He looked over the where the usually docile Bakura was glaring at them. Severus recognized the large pendant he had seen the man wear at the bar. The pendent was also glowing the same golden color and when Severus thought about it, Ishtar's weapon had also been glowing with the same color.

"Miss Granger, do something if you please."

Granger had the audacity to shake her head. "I'm sorry, sir. I think we should listen to what the other party has to say. We both know something the other needs to know. We need to know about the Book and Mister Ishtar needs to know who took his sister. Our situations are inevitably intertwined."

Bakura gave Granger a grateful look. "Finally, another logical person in the room. Now, children," Severus growled at being addressed as a child. "I'll let you down if you promise to play nice with each other. That means no magic or fighting. Understood?" Bakura threw a glare at each of the men stuck to the wall.

"And I'll be holding these." Granger bent down and picked up both Severus' and Ishtar's wands.

"No!"

Granger's fingers hovered just over Ishtar's weapon.

Bakura snatched up the golden wand quickly. "I'm sorry, it responds negatively to anyone but Malik's energy signature and mine."

Another thoughtful look overcame Granger. "I see."

Severus hated this trapped feeling. He didn't understand what kind of magic these two men were using. They didn't require incantations of any type. The only magic he knew that could be performed without the use of an incantation was Animagus magic. "You can let us down now, Mister Bakura. We have much to discuss."

And Severus' magic certainly didn't linger and corrupt the very air like theirs did.

Tuesday, 10th July 2001
12:00 PM, GMT +1:00
The Ministry of Magic
London, England

The day Snape and Hermione went to the British Museum to consult with Muggle Egyptologists (there were many in the Order that disapprove of this but Hermione could be quite persuasive when she needed to be), Remus accompanied Harry, Ron, and Ginny to the Ministry of Magic. Though the building had been severely damaged just about a year ago, the staff left behind was quick to rebuild the essentials. Harry and Ron had long applied for Auror training and they planned to go with their plan. Ginny had seemed to have followed along for no other reason than boredom.

They were seated in Ron's father rather small office. The Minister of Magic in Acting was pacing across the carpet in front of where the four were seated. Ron rarely saw his father so agitated. He thought he may know the reason. While the entire Weasley family was involved in the war and the Order of the Phoenix, he would be the first to be so close to the actual combat, so close to the front line.

His father wringed his hands as it was his nervous habit. "Boys, I can't say I entirely approve of this."

Harry spoke. "With all due respect, Mister Weasley, we don't need it."

Ron had to nod in agreement.

"Yes, yes, I know but…I can't help but worry for you boys. Harry, you know you're like a son to Molly and me."

"Dad, we've been training for this since our fifth year. We're not like Hermione, we can't just sit around and do research. We have to do something, proactively." Ron insisted.

Remus sighed. "I can't say I like this idea much either. For one, it places Harry too out in the open. Ron is right however. They are adults now. It is their choice to make."

Ron watched as his father dragged his palm down his haggard face. "Yes, I know. Very well boys, your training schedule starts promptly next Monday with the other new recruits. You will Floo here from Grimmauld Number 12. I better not hear about the two of you pulling anymore stunts."

Ron smiled rather sweetly up at his father. "You know we'd never do anything to make you worry like that, Dad."

He watched as Remus hid his amused grin behind a slight cough.

"I see Fred and George are starting to rub off on you now, Ronald Bilius Weasley."

"Dad, not the middle name!" Ron groaned. He absolutely despised it, more than Snape could ever hate Harry (and that was saying a lot). "Anything but the middle name!"

His little sister simply rolled her eyes and smacked him on the arm. "No one thinks you're cute, Ron."

His best friend then had the gall to join in. "I don't know, Hermione might disagree with you there, Ginny."

Ron felt his face turn beet red. "Shatup."

"Children." Remus warned though his eyes twinkled with a sort of bemused light.

Ginny turned with a suddenly grave expression toward their father. "Dad, I've been thinking real hard about what I would do with my time since Hogwarts is…no more."

"Now, Ginny," Their father spoke with a hint of warning in his tone. "We spoke about this already. You're going to finish your last year of school at Beauxbaton. You're leaving next week to get adjusted to France."

"I know, Dad, but…" Ginny looked down at her shoes for a few moment before lifting her resolved gaze upwards. She squared her shoulders and spoke with a confidence that spoke of his little sister's growth over the last few years. "Minister Weasley, I would like to request special permission to join the Auror training program."

"Ginny!" Ron leapt up from his seat. He would have almost sworn he was getting auditory hallucinations if he thought his sister to be completely incapable of pulling a stunt like this.

His father's ears turned red, whether it was from the rage or the pure audacity of his daughter to make such a demand. "I can't allow this. As your father-"

Ginny would not let their father finish that sentence. "I'm not asking you as your daughter. I'm asking you as a trained witch with O's on my every OWL. I'm not asking you as my father. I'm asking you as the Minster of Magic. I hope that you will grant me this request."

Their father opened his mouth to rebut but the words never had a chance to leave his mouth.

"No, Dad. I'm not just going to sit around and do nothing. Like Ron said, research is good and all but that's Hermione's thing. I need to do something, Dad. I'm certainly not going to have you send me to France to keep me out of danger. I'm a Gryffindor too. I can't just stand by and watch my friends and loved ones fight without me. I have to be a part of this. I know you just want to protect me and all, and don't give me that "you're-the-only-Weasley-girl-born-in-several-generations-now" crap. This is what I have to do."

Ron stared at his sister. He had always known she had a bit of a forceful personality (understatement there) but he would have never thought she could be so bold. Harry appeared to find her recklessness admirable but that admiration soon gave way to a look of fear that Ron had become all too familiar with in the last two years.

"Ginny, I know you want to help and all but maybe your da is right. France is safer. I don't want you to get hurt." Harry muttered.

Ginny smiled brightly at all of them. "Don't worry. You trained me after all, Harry. Don't you have faith in yourself as a teacher? You taught me more than six years of Defense Against the Dark Arts did. Besides, who's to say that France isn't the next to fall after Britain? I may as well die with my loved ones if the world is to end."

"Don't say that." Their father's voice sounded far too harsh-- too tired to Ron's ears.

"Dad, I'm not changing my mind."

Ron watched the battle of will between his sister and his father. He already knew that his sister would be the winner of this match. Weasley women were always known to be a stubborn force, even the Weasley men fell before their intent.

"Very well, you will start Monday. You better not expect any special treatment because of your age."

A look of triumph swept over her face. "I wouldn't dream of it, Dad."

Their father sunk back into his chair, as if wanting the cushions to swallow him. "You do realize that your Mum will have my head for this."

"Don't worry, Dad. I can handle it." She peeked at him out of the corner of her eyes. "I could always just tell her that Ron was what happened to her favorite china."

He winced.

Remus and Harry laughed.

A small smile claimed their father's lips.

Tuesday, 10th July 2001
1:25 PM, GMT +1:00
The British Museum
London, England

"Wizards?" Malik raised a skeptic eyebrow. "And witches?"

Ryou smacked his boyfriend's arm lightly. "Don't mock them. It's entirely possible."

"Sorry but I just thought about weird beard old men with pointy hats and sparkly robes." Malik snickered.

Ryou sighed. His boyfriend could still sometimes be so immature after all these years.

"He has it half right." The dark man called Severus Snape muttered.

Miss Hermione coughed. A light flush stained her cheeks. "Where do we go from here? Under protocol, they go to the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes."

"Don't be naïve, Miss Granger. The Ministry hardly has the time or resource to deal with this foolishness currently." Mister Snape snorted.

Malik leapt up from his seat. "Now look here, no one is touching my memories with a ten-foot pole." He gritted his teeth.

Ryou leveled a stern look at Malik. "Malik, sit down. We haven't even fully heard them out yet. They have their reasons."

Malik plopped back down in his seat.

Mister Snape seemed to favor him with an approving eye. "Thank you. It is good to see some Muggles have sense."

"Excuse me, Muggles?"

"Non-magical people," Miss Hermione supplied and then hesitated. "Though it would seem that term would not exactly apply to you…"

"So you're telling me that some evil villain named Voldemort kidnapped my sister," Ryou could tell that Malik was increasingly becoming more agitated. "And that she provided him and his little organization with the power to destroy a school full of children. Isis would never do that!"

Miss Hermione quickly moved to correct the assumption. "We never said it was of her own free will. We have a spell, an Unforgivable prohibited by law, that can…brainwash someone."

"Much like your wand." Mister Snape regarded the Millennium Rod lying on the table with wary suspicion.

"That's not possible." A dark shadow fell over Malik's eyes. "Isis, she's immune to that sort of thing. She's stronger than that."

"That is beside the point. You have no idea what kind of power we hold." Mister Snape snarled.

"I could say the same for you." Malik growled in return. "Get out."

"We-"

Malik would not let the young woman finish. "Get out of my office!" he jumped to his feet and pointed at the door.

Ryou pulled at his boyfriend's other arm. "Malik, stop."

"We cannot just leave. You know too much already." Mister Snape remained firmly seated.

Ryou shivered. Those eyes were so black…so cold…so hard… This man was dangerous in the sort of way his dark personality had been.

Malik grabbed his Rod and pulled the dagger from its sheath. "Get out now. You heard me before."

Mister Snape rose slowly to his feet as Miss Hermione said something frantically at his side. He pulled that wooden wand out again. "You will find it unwise to threaten us."

Miss Hermione looked vaguely surprised, perhaps at the mention of "us."

Malik growled in return.

Ryou sighed. He was tired of watching two egos clash. "Sit down."

Both men glared at him for his intrusion, though Malik's was considerably softer.

Ryou placed all the force of his will behind his next words. This was not the time to be fighting each other. "Both of you. Now.'

The two other men slowly lowered themselves back into their chairs. Ryou leaned back into the comfortable chair that Miss Hermione had…what was it again?-- transfigured for him.

"Look," Ryou paused to choose his next words carefully. "It seems that we are in mutual need of each other's help. We need you if we are to get Isis-san and the Book back, and you need our knowledge of ancient Egyptian magic."

Mister Snape snorted. "I refuse to believe that we will not be able to attain this information elsewhere. It would seem to be to your benefit to…work…with us."

Malik laughed. "Besides Ryou and me, there are only three other people on this earth that can tell you anything about that Book. Your Voldemort has already taken my sister. One of the others would simply have you shot if you even mention magic in his presence. He is hardly who he used to be. And the last…I wouldn't let you within a hundred mile of him."

Ryou tugged desperately at Malik's sleeve. "We have to help them. We have to get Isis-san and the Book back. If he finds out how to make…" The thought was too horrifying for Ryou to even finish. "There could be dozens, no, hundreds more tragedies like Kuru Eruna-" He stopped abruptly but he knew that Malik could hear the unspoken "There could be more like me" lingering in the stagnant air.

Malik's face fell suddenly. Those lavender eyes were so much darker than their usual tenderness. Ryou wondered if his beloved was remembering all the pain he suffered through to be able to-- to be worthy of, as silly as the term seemed, using the Rod's powers. It broke Ryou's heard to think that other innocents may be forced to pay the same price as they had for the benefit of a madman.

Ryou felt Malik squeeze his hand, though he wasn't sure if it was for comfort or to reassure.

"What do you need from us?" Malik muttered in defeat.

Ryou glanced back down at the desk, to where the letter from Atemu remained unopened. He bit his lip.

Tuesday, 10th July 2001
5:04 PM, GMT +1:00
Grimmauld Place Number 12
London, England

"Muggles?" Minerva narrowed her eyes.

Hermione shook her head. It seemed that none of the discussions she would take part in today would go right. "No, they're not ordinary Muggles. They have powers too, different then ours but power nonetheless."

"Yes, I know you and Severus can attest to that face but we have no idea as to their agenda or anything else about them." Minerva's frown deepened.

"I ran Muggle background checks for both of them. They're both clean except Mister Ishtar has a few dodgy spots from when he was younger." She frowned. She best not tell them exactly what those offenses were because there would be those who would see them as anything but minor.

"Where are they now?" Remus asked as he leaned back further into his chair.

"We could not allow them to simply leave after we had disclosed so much information. I placed them in Safe house one with Mister Malfoy." Her former potions professor spoke up for the first time since they had returned to Grimmauld Place Number 12.

She winced. Mister Ishtar had not been happy with the thought of being basically locked up anywhere at all. She was very glad that Mister Bakura had been there to calm his boyfriend down. She had her suspicions that Mister Bakura might have been the one to change Mister Ishtar when they were younger.

Remus paused. "Are you sure that was wise?"

"What would you have me do?" The tone's cutting edge was as sharp as a knife. Hermione winced. "House them at the Leaky Cauldron?"

Hermione licked her lips nervously before she spoke, "I'd think it'd be best to move them here."

The quiet lull of conversation died away.

"Here?" Minerva scowled. She obviously wasn't in favor of the idea.

"And how would we accomplish that? Albus is our Secret Keeper. He is in no condition to pass any Secrets onto them."

Professor Snape always knew how to make her feel uneducated and unintelligent. She fell silent. She had not thought about that. Then a thought struck her out of the blue. "They can come through the Floo network."

Another pause of silence enveloped the room.

She continued. "The Fidelius charm is meant to hide a location from others and thus making it inaccessible through secrecy but it does nothing to actually ward that location."

Remus looked genuinely impressed by her deduction. "That might just work."

Minerva muttered something inaudible under her breath and paused. "I've never heard of a Fidelius charm in combination with the Floo network until we tried it. No one has ever tried this so it may work..."

Snape glared at her and she felt like a First Year again, being knocked down a few pegs. "I must insist that Mister Malfoy be moved here as well."

"But-" she protested.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "You are no longer in school, Miss Granger. House prejudice is most unbecoming for you. Mister Malfoy has already proven his innocence under Veritaserum. He genuinely wishes to aid us. He will be much safer here, where I can watch him. And I can monitor him for..." he trailed off as he looked to Minerva.

A strangely disconcerted _expression flashed across Minerva's face. "Yes, of course, that...issue..."

Remus nodded and he too looked slightly concerned in Hermione's eyes. "Yes, that would probably be for the best."

She looked around, bewildered. What had she missed?

Tuesday, 10th July 2001
6:39 PM, GMT +1:00
Grimmauld Place Number 12
London, England

Draco stared at the new room he would be staying indefinitely. He was surprised to say the least, when his former Head of House came bearing news of his move. He had never expected to be let into the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. Mad-Eye Moody had given him the expected morbid and paranoid speech. That man would never trust a Snape, much less a Malfoy.

He wondered how the two other men, Ryou and Malik as he was allowed to address them by, that had only been with him in the safe house for a few hours were settling in. They were strange men but watching them together...they made him feel jealous. They represented a possibility that would never be his.

A familiar hatred, like acid, rose within him. His father...his father who had cursed him with this life... The man thought that if he made his son Amoured with Harry Potter that his father would be able to make him concede to the Dark Lord. He knew better than to believe anything his father said. He had spent most of his seven years at school under Imperious, watching like a dissociated observer the havoc he wrecked upon others. The burden of the guilt toward those he had hurt so badly would forever weigh down his soul.

So here he was, hiding away from the world, from his father...from Harry Potter. He closed his eyes and tried desperately to chase the thought of the other boy-- man out of his mind. It was…humiliating to be trapped in the intricacies of a love potion and lust spells as he currently was.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on his door. He stopped for a second to wonder who would come looking for him. Professor Snape perhaps? He fixed up his mask and donned it. He could not afford for anyone to see him so weak and vulnerable.

"Come in."

Draco took a deep breath to hold the mask in place before he turned around to face whoever it was that had come to confront him. His heart leapt into his throat without a second thought. Harry Potter closed the bedroom door after he stepped into the room. Draco knew his mask had just crumpled to pieces. He would never be able to hide anything from Harry Potter ever again. The seemingly raw honesty of his emotions was both a new and uncomfortable sensation. The vague thought, somewhere along the lines of his father having completely destroyed him, skirted across the back of his mind.

"Malfoy." Harry sounded so strangely polite and distant.

"Potter." It was a wonder that his mouth was working at all.

They simply stood and stared at each other. Harry ran a hand through his unruly hair. It was a movement Draco was familiar with. He swallowed. Didn't Harry know how bloody gorgeous he looked like that?

Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out something. As the other boy stepped closer, Draco's breathing became all the more erratic. Harry opened his hand to reveal the silver signet ring Draco had previously spelled to be a portkey.

"I just came to return it. Thanks, I guess." Harry's voice was completely neutral. There were no hints to any more positive or negative feelings.

Draco turned away. It was becoming far too hard to breathe. "No, keep it, Potter. As my gift to you, as a token of our truce."

"Truce? Why?"

Draco had always known that Harry would ask that question if they both managed to miraculously survive. In all honesty, he hadn't expected to survive the raid on Hogwarts. He had thought that his father would personally execute him for his treason. But now faced with his current dilemma and Harry's question, he didn't know what to do.

"I…I couldn't let you die."

It was the simplest and most honest answer he could give.

"Why though? Why would you care about what happens to me, Malfoy? After all that shite you put me through for the last seven years?"

Draco could hear the anger rising in that rather powerful voice. He suppressed the wince. He turned around to face Harry again, watching as more of that frustration crept into the contours of Harry's face.

"What you saw and knew of me for the last seven years is nothing but lies. I know about the prophecy too, Potter. If you die, then I'll never be free of the Dark Lord. I refuse to serve a halfblood maniac."

Harry made a disgusted expression. "All to save your own arse as usual, Malfoy? Why am I not surprised?"

Draco didn't try to correct Harry's assumption. He was well aware of all the things he had done to alienate Harry and his friends. He would have to slowly win their trust and build upon it.

"I'll be watching you, Malfoy. I still don't trust you, no matter what you said under Veritaserum." Harry turned away and marched out of the room, slamming the door behind his back.

Draco took deep breaths to calm his raging heartbeat. Harry's anger was so brilliant. He was drawn towards him like a moth to a flame.

"I love you."

The quiet words lingered in the air with a tender and sweet note. He fell back onto his bed and stared up at the canopy. The room was dark, swarmed with shadows of his past and future. He was staying in the same house as Harry Potter. He would continue to get the chance to dine with Harry Potter.

Draco dragged a hand down his face and groaned. He had already tried to fight these feelings. Whenever he thought he had a handle on his emotions, all he had to remember were those bright emerald eyes and his control would shatter. Merlin, he was pathetic…

Friday, 13th July 2001
4:47 PM, GMT +2:00
Théâtre Toursky
Marseilles, France

Mazaki Anzu cursed softly as she missed her cue and then tripped. The music came to a sudden halt and the other ballet dancers around her turned to glare at her. She climbed to her feet, careful of her tender ankle. She had nearly twisted it in the last practice. She apologized to the rest of her troupe before the director and the choreographer called for a ten minute break.

Anzu sighed as she leaned back against the wall, taking the weight off her ankle. She sipped the cup of water that one of the stagehands was distributing to the dancers. They had only a few weeks of practice before the new show for the Marseilles-based division of her troupe, the Ballet National de Marseilles, opened. She did not play a very major role in the production but she valued the experience more than anything.

However, her mind was just not there these days. She was too excited over Yugi's arrival next month. They had only gotten to see each other a few times over the last few years but they kept in touch through phone and email. She was glad to see that their relationship had not fallen apart because of the distance between them. She knew how much Yugi loved Domino and the fact that he was willing to come to Marseilles to be with her was unbearably endearing. She only wished that she didn't have to take Yugi away from his beloved Domino.

That just reminded her that she was having dinner with Bakura and Malik this weekend. That was one good thing about being in France. She was just across the channel from two old friends. They switched off each month, finding time to meet with each other in either Marseilles or London. She went to retrieve her cell phone. She would have to call them and remind them. They could both be so terribly absent-minded, so wrapped up in each other and their work.

She dialed Malik's cell number first, simply to banter with the man briefly. The phone rang five times before it forwarded her to his voicemail. She frowned. He probably had his phone off. She called Bakura's cell next. No response and she was talking to the voicemail once again. She dialed their apartment number and got their answering machine. She glared at her cell phone. They were never hard to reach, if only keeping their cell phones on to get calls from each other.

She paused to think for a moment. Malik should still be at work at this hour. She scanned down her phonebook and clicked on Malik's work number. It ran three times before someone picked up.

"Malik, I've been trying to call you for the past few minutes. What the hell are you doing?" Anzu scowled in her native Japanese. It felt good to be speaking her mother tongue again.

"Excuse me, Miss? Do you speak English?" said the female voice on the other end.

"Oh," Anzu quickly switched to English. Living in New York really did have its advantages. "I'm sorry but is Malik Ishtar there? I need to confirm an appointment I have with him tomorrow."

There was silence and all Anzu could hear was the harsh breathing of the woman on the other end.

"Mister Ishtar…he's disappeared…along with Mister Bakura… No one's seen or heard from them for three days now."

[1] Morgan Le Fay. Hehe, apparently Snape curses by Morgan.

*cowers* I'm terribly sorry for screwing over Draco's character... Can you find it in your heart to forgive little old me?

CC Questions, would be much appreciated:
1. Was my attempt to override the Fidelius Charm too obvious? Too implausible? Too increative?
2. Is the timing of the events too hard to place? Should they be made more obvious? Perhaps by actually labeling the sections by time and date?
3. Any problems with characterization? Any plotholes?

All reviews appreciated.

Chapter 4 - Untitled at the moment
Atemu knows that something is amidst now. Yugi might not retain any memories of his encounter with the foreigner but he did. He makes up his mind to confront the English professor, Silka Black. As a result, he is only drawn deeper into struggles of a world he has perhaps always known of or never could have imagined existed.