Malik stared at his reflection in the mirror of the boy's bathroom. He saw absolutely nothing that should have sent Malfoy on his giggling fit. All his features were normal, well, normal for him anyway. 'Malfoy must have been just trying to get to me,' Malik thought. 'He must have seen that his spell didn't work and was just trying to psyche me out.' That had to be it. Malik checked out his reflection one last time, cursing himself silently for falling for Malfoy's trick before leaving for the Great Hall.

Lunchtime had finally rolled around. The Great Hall seemed to be an even bigger jumble of broken conversations than it usually did. This seemed strange to Malik, as the room was not especially full yet, but he couldn't understand a word said by anybody. He brushed it off, thinking that he really didn't care about what everyone else was saying.

He made his way to his usual spot at the Gryffindor table, putting the recent incident with Malfoy out of his mind. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were already there filling their plates. "Yugi" was also there, though it was immediately obvious to Malik that Yami was the one in control. He'd always found it strange that no one else could tell when one of his fellows switched personalities, but that was just part of the magic of the millennium items. What was impossible to see for a normal person was almost painfully obvious to someone who had an idea of what to look for.

Malik sat down beside Yami and across from Harry, Ron and Hermione, giving them his usual greeting. He did not, however, get his usual response.

Yami, Harry, and company's eyes widened in confusion as Malik spoke. It sounded to Harry and Hermione like nothing but gibberish. Yami and Ron found it familiar, but couldn't place it. They all looked up from their plates, staring at him. "What did you say?" Harry asked, thinking that perhaps he hadn't heard right.

Malik couldn't understand a word Harry said, but their expressions told him that something was wrong. "Please just tell me what Malfoy did to me so I can decide what method to use to kill him."

Hermione's ears, grown so sharp from listening for possible test questions in class, picked up the word "Malfoy." "Malfoy?" she asked. Malik nodded, speaking again, but this time nothing was understood.

"What's all the excitement about?" came the charismatic voice of Yami Bakura. He'd finally wandered down from the roof for some food, but his windswept hair still showed signs of being outside. He crossed his arms over his chest as he looked on.

Malik was growing more and more frustrated. He'd spoken to Yami Bakura not two hours earlier, and now he couldn't understand a word he said either. "If somebody doesn't tell me what the Hell is going on..." he said, trailing off.

Yami Bakura cocked an eyebrow curiously, but expressed no surprise. He turned to Yami and asked simply, "Why is he speaking in Arabic?"

"Oh, that's what he's doing!" Hermione said, amazed that she hadn't come to the realization herself.

"I thought it sounded familiar," Ron said. He'd heard the language when he went on vacation to Egypt two years earlier.

"I did too," Yami said. "I just couldn't place it. I haven't heard it spoken too often. How'd you recognize it so fast?"

Yami Bakura made a face like it was obvious. "Well, my 'father' is an archeologist who spent a lot of time working in Egypt. I would at least be able to recognize the language." What Ryou knew from his father was all Yami Bakura knew about the language. Modern Arabic was not what he would have spoken back in Egypt, but it was not like that made a difference. Without a complete memory of his past existence, the two languages were equally Greek to him.

"Okay, so he's speaking Arabic," Harry said. "Now, why?"

"Well, he said 'Malfoy,'" Hermione replied, "Malfoy must have broken the language charm. It IS a new spell, so it has a few kinks. The simplest spell-breaker can counteract it."

Malik felt ignored as well as confused and frustrated while the others discussed things he couldn't understand. He wondered if maybe his precious sanity had finally slipped completely out of his grasp. He sighed heavily and let his head drop to the table, mumbling incoherently in Arabic.

Malfoy was watching the whole situation from the entranceway of the Great Hall, unseen. This had been an unexpected but nevertheless humorous outcome. He knew things would eventually be straightened out, but now he knew of a simple spell that would be of extreme inconvenience to Malik. And Malfoy had every intention of exploiting it.

Now that they knew exactly what was going on, Yami and Yami Bakura found the situation quite amusing and couldn't help laugh a bit at Malik's predicament. But it wouldn't be long before Malik went from amusing to annoying, so Yami Bakura decided to end it.

"Speak Japanese so I can understand you, moron," Yami Bakura said with a smirk, switching to the language himself.

"Moron?!" Malik exclaimed, immediately turning angrily to Yami Bakura. But his anger disappeared, replaced by relief as soon as he realized that he understood what was just said. It took a great deal of Malik's self control to keep himself from hugging the tomb robber in elation. "I can understand you! Oh, thank the gods, I thought I was going insane."

"No more than usual," Yami Bakura replied.

"What a relief," Malik said, wiping his brow. "Now, would you mind explaining to me what is going on? Why can you only understand me if I speak Japanese?"

"Your language charm's on the blink," Yami Bakura answered. "Did that possibility never cross your mind?"

"Well..." Malik scratched his head embarrassedly. He really should have thought of that. "I've gotten so used to it, I just sorta forgot about the language charm entirely. Besides, how was I supposed to know the thing could be shut off? It does explain a lot, though."

"Let me guess. Malfoy used his wand on you?"

Malik nodded. "He did this accidentally, of course. I'm not sure what he was trying to do, but I don't think he expected this result. I'll just have to get my revenge later. But now that I know what's going on, this is no big deal. I can just have the language charm put on again, right?"

Yami Bakura turned to Hermione and switched back to English momentarily. "The spell can be fixed, right?"

"I suppose," Hermione answered. "If there's someone at this school who can perform it. Like I said, it's a new spell and not everyone can just do it. But surely either Professor Flitwick or Professor Dumbledore will be able to do it. I'll go see if I can find one of them." She got up and headed to the teachers' table in search of help.

"She's going find someone to fix it," Yami Bakura explained to Malik.

"Oh, looks like the fun's almost over." Malfoy sauntered over from where he had been quietly watching, sneering confidently. "Ah, well, it was entertaining while it lasted."

"Yes, Malfoy, what a laugh," Harry said sarcastically. "Ha, ha, real cute. I hope you don't think that you're going to get away with it. Whoever has to redo this spell is going to want to know what made it stop working in the first place.

"I was merely defending myself," Malfoy said, dripping with false innocence. "The fact that I used a counter charm proves that, as I think any professor will agree. Girly boy over there threatened me and then reached for his wand. I only moved to counteract whatever spell he was planning on using on me. It's not my fault he was pathetically slow and my spell breaker had nothing to work on but his language charm. He should know better than to think he could go wand to wand with me. He's nowhere near my league."

"It doesn't do much good to insult someone who can't understand you," Yami said in his authoritive tone. "And it's cowardly to belittle someone incapable of defending himself."

"Who asked for your input, shorty?" Malfoy shot back harshly. Yami was a bit taken aback. Even Kaiba didn't insult him so directly. His title of King of Games didn't get him the same respect here that it did back in Domino. But Yami found that exchanging simple insults was too childish for him.

"I'm not going to let your rudeness drag me into this battle that you and my companions insist upon having," Yami answered condescendingly. "I only play games that are at least somewhat of a challenge."

"Quite the cocky attitude," Malfoy mocked.

"You have no idea," Yami answered smugly.

Malik impatiently tapped Yami Bakura on the shoulder. "Translation, please."

"They're just exchanging remarks. Yami actually defended you."

"Well, there's something that doesn't happen everyday. Perhaps I'm growing on him."

"Like a fungus," Yami Bakura muttered. He couldn't help but wonder if the Pharaoh would have done the same for him, although he told himself that he didn't care. Malik had tried to kill Yami more times than anyone else. He's come the closest to succeeding. But because Malik had had more fueling his rage than simple greed, he had been forgiven. After all, Malik was human and prone to error. But Yami Bakura had been after nothing but power. And many questioned just how much of his humanity remained. It would only be a matter of time before he would screw up again. This made it exceedingly difficult for Yami Bakura to gain the one thing he now wanted most...acceptance.

Malik brought Yami Bakura out of his thoughts with another tap on the shoulder. "Translate for me."

"What the Hell am I, your damned pocket translator?"

"Hey, I'm the one at a disadvantage here," Malik argued. "Just give me a hand."

"I'll give you a hand," Yami Bakura muttered. "Oy, Malfoy!"

"Oh, it's the Gryffindors' pathetic new Chaser," Malfoy said with false enthusiasm. "You Gryffindors always were fond of putting girls on your team."

"Whatever," Yami Bakura said, not in the mood to defend Ryou's skills. "Malik has something to say, and I'll be translating for him." He gave Malik a look, telling him he could start.

"Well, Malfoy," Malik began, putting on a serious expression, "this little trick of yours was inconvenient to say the least, but you can rest assured that I'll pay you back for it."

"He says that your spell was an inconvenience and nothing more, but you can expect his revenge to be much more than that," Yami Bakura said.

"We seem to have gotten past the point of playing fair, so anything goes. And I have more tricks up my sleeve than you'll ever have," Malik continued.

"He said you shouldn't have challenged him, but by doing so, you have brought on your own inevitable doom. Your little spells are nothing and you cannot comprehend the extent of the danger you are in by pursuing this battle."

"That was a long translation," Malik observed.

"Nevermind, that," Yami Bakura said. Malik didn't need to know about his adlibbing. Yami Bakura was better with words than Malik was. "You have more to say?" Yami Bakura asked.

Malik sighed and continued. "This is your only warning Malfoy. I'll get you back for this when you least expect it."

"He says there will be no warning when he is ready to bring forth his black revenge. It could come anytime, anywhere. But it will be coming. You can count on that. Oh, and on a side note, I haven't paid you back in full for the incident with the brooms." Yami Bakura narrowed his eyes menacingly. "More that you can look forward to."

"You don't scare me," Malfoy answered.

Yami Bakura smiled. "Keep telling yourself that."

Malfoy scoffed. Looking past the others, he could see Hermione approaching with Professor McGonagall. That was his cue to leave. "I don't have time for this now," he said, turning to leave.

"Go on, run," Yami Bakura taunted, "like the terrified little child you are."

"I'm not running by any means," Malfoy defended. "I'm ready for whatever lame comeback you have planed. Bring it on. You're digging your own grave." Yami Bakura smirked knowingly, but gave no reply. His piercing gaze sent shivers down Malfoy's back. Malfoy turned and stalked off, reassuring himself that there was nothing to worry about. Both Malik and Bakura were all talk. What could they do?

"Geez, remind me to stay on your good sides," Ron said, impressed.

Professor McGonagall arrived, Hermione at her side. Hermione had been unable to find the charms teacher or the headmaster, so she had employed McGonagall's help. The teacher was a bit flustered.

"Off set the language charm," she scolded. "Really, this private war has got to stop. Bakura, I thought we were at an understanding?"

"Don't look at me. I'm as innocent as the day I was born," Yami Bakura defended. "This was between Malfoy and him," he said, thumbing at Malik, "I'm just a bystander...this time."

Professor McGonagall gave Yami Bakura a look that clearly said that he better not mean anything by "this time." "Well, I suppose it would do no good to scold Mr. Ishtal if he can't understand me, although I suspect it will do no more good when he can understand. Some students are just stubborn when it comes to these things." McGonagall cast a knowing glance in Harry's direction. "I shall have to tend to this, as Professor Snape is on Hogwarts business today. Come along." She motioned for Malik to follow. "Professor Flitwick will be able to restore the charm. Then I shall have to have a talk with both Mr. Ishtal and Mr. Malfoy."

"Go with her," Yami Bakura instructed Malik, who nodded and did as he was told. McGonagall led him out of the Great Hall and upstairs towards the Charms classroom.

Yami sighed as Malik left. "Never a peaceful moment."

"You know as well as I do that if things were peaceful, you would be bored out of your head," Yami Bakura said, taking Malik's place at the table.

"Oh, speaking of being bored, I have a proposition for both you and Malik," Yami said. "But I think I'll wait for him to come back so that I don't have to repeat myself."

"Fine, fine, whatever," Yami Bakura said, dismissing Yami with a wave of his hand. "Like I don't know what you're getting at, Mr. King of Games. Just don't bother me with it now." Yami Bakura rubbed his hands together expectantly. "So, what's for lunch?"

Yami prayed silently for Ryou's digestive system as Yami Bakura helped himself to a large helping of steak and kidney pie while all the time eyeing the other dishes. Yami thought it would be best if Ryou didn't hear of this later.

"Is that blood pudding?" the tomb robber asked hopefully.

....................................

"No way," Malik said decisively.

"I must agree," Yami Bakura said. "What on earth made you think we would want to do that?"

"But you're duelists!" Yami argued. "How can you just turn down a challenge?"

"Like this," Malik said, "No."

They were all seated in the library. Malik's language charm had been successfully restored, and both he and Malfoy were scolded by Professor McGonagall who promised them a detention if the fighting continued. Five points were taken from Slytherin, but it was not like that affected Malik. Now, Yami had just proposed the duel to Malik and Yami Bakura as Harry, Hermione, and Ron looked on. It was not going as Yami had hoped.

"Did you not bring your duel disks?" Yami asked.

"Of course I brought it. I wasn't going to be gone nine months without it. I brought it incase it would be needed," Malik said. "But I have no intention of using it against you."

"Same here," Yami Bakura agreed.

"Well, why not?" Yami asked, frustrated.

"Maybe because there's no point to it," Yami Bakura replied. "You know our decks and strategies as well as we do. Add that to your God cards, and we have no chance whatsoever. Even I don't get involved in something I know I can't win."

"Can't you just come up with new strategies?" Yami asked.

"Easy for you to say," Malik answered. "It took me months to perfect my last strategy. I had a God card and you still beat me. I don't have enough cards on hand to develop a new plan in a week's time."

"Cowards," Yami muttered. "Whatever happened to a duelist's pride? No matter how many times I beat Kaiba or Jounouchi, they always want to duel again."

"That's because they're both idiots," Yami Bakura muttered.

"Come on, guys," Ron said, coming to Yami's aide. "Me, Harry, and Hermione really want to see this halograph thingie in action."

"Hologram, Ron," Hermione corrected.

"Whatever you call it, I wanna see it."

"Me, too," Harry agreed.

"I'll be willing to make compromises," Yami offered.

"Look guys," Hermione said. "If they don't want to, then they don't want to. Let's just forget this whole-"

"Wait," Yami Bakura interrupted. "What do you mean 'compromises?'" Hermione sighed heavily. So close.

"Name it," Yami said.

Yami Bakura tapped a finger against his chin in thought. A duel would be a welcome distraction, even if he lost. After all, he hadn't dueled since...well, he didn't want to think about that. That was then, and this was now. But a game was nothing if there wasn't something on the line. Something for excitement, some element of risk...

"Two conditions," Yami Bakura said.

"Let's here them," Yami replied.

"One, no God cards."

"Done," Yami agreed. "What else?"

Yami Bakura grinned devilishly. "Two, we turn the safety settings to zero."

"What?! Why?!" Yami exclaimed.

Yami Bakura's grin widened. "There has to be something to keep it interesting for me."

"Oh, that does sound good," Malik agreed. "Well worth watching."

"Wait, what do you mean, 'safety settings?'" Harry asked.

"There can be a certain element of danger in operating the duel disks," Malik explained. "The holograms are so real that they can actually inflict pain upon the duelist. It adds more realism to the game. With the safety settings at zero, the game can really hurt if you're losing."

"Oh, my God, that's horrible!" Hermione said, appalled. "Why would anyone want to do play a game like that?!"

"It's an extreme game that only the most hardcore duelists can handle. Don't worry about them, they live for this kind of stuff," Malik assured.

"Well, it sound ridiculous to me," Hermione huffed.

"Talk about a serious game," Ron said in awe.

"It's not any different from Quidditch," Harry said. "All the best games have risks involved."

"It doesn't sound like just a risk to me," Hermione said. "It sounds more like a guarantee!"

"Well?" Yami Bakura smirked. "You up to it?"

"Always the masochist, aren't you?" Yami asked.

"Only if I'm losing," Yami Bakura answered with a laugh. "But since I plan on winning, I guess you'd call me a sadist instead. But since there's no God cards involved, it won't be too dangerous. I know what I'm doing. The most that could happen is one of us gets knocked out. No lasting damage. So...do we have a deal?" Yami Bakura held a hand out.

Yami thought a moment. Yami Bakura's plan did increase the excitement level greatly. It would increase the challenge as well. "Alright. Deal," he said, taking Yami Bakura's hand and shaking it. "I'm looking forward to it."

"As am I," Yami Bakura agreed.

..................................

It was well past dark when Isis Ishtal returned home. The lights were on. Rishid had stayed awake waiting for her, even though she had told him not too. He had gladly offered to close the museum for her so that she could go on her date. But with Malik gone, Rishid's protectiveness was placed on Isis instead. It was cute in a strange sort of way.

As she expected, Isis found Rishid sitting silently at the kitchen table, showing no signs of fatigue. He looked up at her as she entered. "Late night," he observed.

"I did tell you not to wait up," she said, taking a seat.

"I know. How was your date with that English boy?"

"Oh, it was great," Isis replied. "He took me to dinner and then we went for a walk. He showed me the dig site where they found all those artifacts from the last shipment. I've never seen anyone else so comfortable in a tomb. Oh, and he has such a wonderful sense of humor. He had me laughing all night."

Rishid nodded. "I'm glad you had a good time. You've been seeing him a lot, I've noticed."

"Well, I like him," Isis replied. "He's very nice."

"I hope Malik will agree with you when he comes back. He's never been fond of your boyfriends. He may make things difficult."

"Oh, don't worry," Isis assured. "Malik will love him. Bill comes from a big family; he has five younger brothers and a sister. He'll be great with Malik, provided Malik doesn't come back and turn him into a toad or use whatever other ability he may have learned at that magic school." Isis laughed suddenly. "Imagine how Bill would react if I told him my little brother was at a school for sorcery." She laughed again, shaking her head as she pictured it.

"It would probably come as quite a shock," Rishid replied, stone-faced as always.

"Well, how were things at the museum?" Isis asked. "Did everything go alright?"

Rishid's gaze wavered for a moment. "Nothing I couldn't handle," he answered.

Isis looked curiously at Rishid. "Something out of the ordinary happen?"

"A few men stayed in the museum for an excessively long time. They were dressed in dark robes; I almost thought they were old members of the Ghouls, but I realized upon closer inspection that I didn't recognize them. They spent at least five hours in the section where the stone tablets were displayed. I had to tell them to leave when the museum was closing. Then they made a strange offer..." Rishid paused a moment as he remembered. "They wanted to buy the stone tablet of the Nameless Pharaoh."

"Buy it?" Isis repeated. "But it's a museum, you can't just pick souvenirs off the walls."

"I know. I told them that. But they didn't seem to care. They kept saying that they could pay any price. The tablet seemed very important to them."

"They couldn't have known the true information contained on the tablet," Isis said, bewildered. "That's known only to the grave keepers and millennium item holders."

"They couldn't have been either," said Rishid. "If they were followers of Shadi they would have said so. And Shadi would have no need of the tablet. He already knows all that it contains. But these men were certainly persistent. I had to be very insistent to get them to leave, and even then, they were quite reluctant."

"They must have just been collectors," Isis said. "Just like all the others we get from time to time, always trying to get rare artifacts, and they don't get much rarer than the Tablet of the Nameless Pharaoh."

Isis then jumped as the phone rang, startling her. She put a hand to her chest, exhaling slowly to calm herself. Rishid, as usual, had not been affected by the sudden disturbance, a quality of his that never ceased to amaze Isis. "Would you like me to get that?" he asked.

"No, I'll get it," Isis answered. "Who would be calling this late, anyway."

Isis answered and spent several solemn minutes on the phone, where she did almost none of the talking. She ended the conversation with a hesitant, "I'll be right there." As she hung up, Rishid looked at her, concerned.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"The museum has been broken into," Isis replied in a low tone. "Two of the guards were found dead; the officials can't tell how they were killed. They said that the bodies appeared unharmed except for the fact that they were dead..."

"That's unfortunate," Rishid said sadly. "Did the murders succeed in getting whatever it was they were after?" Isis nodded. "What was it? What did those men lose their lives trying to protect?"

Isis looked at Rishid. "The Tablet of the Nameless Pharaoh."