R&R

Dangerous Affairs

xxxYUGIOH X HARRY POTTER Yaoi Crossover xxx M for yaoi, future sexual content ... and lots of it (gotta cover my ass here folks) YB/HP, Marik/Harry.
Ooc. A.U, Post-war fic. superishHarry

"After the war, Harry decided grabbing a Time Turner for a do-over wasn't such a bad idea, but he went back a little to far . . . to the time of Ancient Egypt -in a different universe. Scandals break loose again, treason against the Pharaoh is afoot and Harry is once again, in the center of it all"

Romance/Drama...kinda plotless...so meh.

xxxI DO NOT OWN YUGIOH OR HARRY POTTER XXX.

The silver time turner lay shattered in the sand by Harry's feet. He had grabbed the wrong one, he meant to grab the standard golden one off the shelf off the Department of Mysteries. He went to work as usual, using his entry key as an Unspeakable down at the Ministry to get into the experimental time turner vault. Harry Potter was a desperate man, he was expected to marry Ginny, have children and become the next 'Dumbledore' but he didn't want any of that.
He wanted Sirius Black back, he wanted all he lost in the war back and he wanted to grow old in peace. He may have "won" the war, but at what cost? This was not a victory for him.

Now he stood in a hot sandy, near-windless desert. A wave of his wand-hand told him he had gone back thousands of years, he doubted he was even in his own universe anymore.

Harry wiped the sweat rolling down his temple and squinted at the shadowed things in the distance past the sand dunes.

Pyramids.

That confirmed it, he was in Egypt, Ancient Egypt to be exact.

"If I remember my training I'll survive," breathed Harry, he began to sweat buckets beneath the Egyptian sun. Everybody who was still alive after the war was probably dead, Harry realized, well... not born yet, and probably in a different reality.

He ripped off the top of his robe and sweat rolled down his chest, he could barely breathe, he dropped to his knees and tried to recover the shattered time-turner.

"It's hopeless," he muttered to himself with a scowl.

He needed to find a village of some sort and find some fresh water, in the distance he could see the river Nile and shadowed figures bustling around - he needed shelter -and fast.

He was only seventeen, but he knew what he needed to do to survive.

Scrunching up his face in thought he tried to think back to his curse-breaking time with Bill Weasley, he did go to Egypt once, the root of all magick, but that was a long time ago.

All he could remember were the deformed skeletal corpses, gold-laden sarcophagus's and ancient hieroglyphics. He could read hieroglyphs which was one of the written languages of Egypt used for tombs and traditional purposes, though none of the knowledge was immediately useful to him.

He looked down at his attire, before he even attempted to get to the village he needed to blend in.

He stared self-consciously at his wand-arm, there was a thin scar that circled his wrist - like that of a cutter's. Harry got it from an accident down at Spell Development at the Ministry, his wand had been reduced to it's core and entered his very blood, his soul. It had coiled around his arm like a hot wire that was surged with pure magic that was melting into his flesh and scarring for life.
Harry couldn't wield a wand anymore even if he wanted to, he had to use his wand-arm to cast spells and even his own Ba.

"Ba" of course, is a persons very own life-force, but Harry had only used it once or twice in his entire life, he tried to stay away from it, and with good reason. The ramifications of using one's own life-force don't really need to be explained.

Harry transfigured the robes in his hands to a white desert robe and slung it on, and did a quick cooling charm over his body. Sighing with relief he began his long trek to the village.

His robe had a gold band around his waistline and Harry made sure the upper-half of his robe showed his broad shoulders so he looked the part. He never pictured himself in plain white, but then again he never pictured himself thousands of years into the past.
Harry was never good at transfiguration or conjuration of liquids, the last time he tried to conjure a glass of drinking water he made dirty salty sea-water.

Best not to risk it.

Everything in the modern world he knew was dead.

Harry detected swarms of magick and feelings as the village came into view. Sucking in a breath he concentrated on one step at a time, his tongue felt ready to shrivel up from dryness. His muscles felt weak, when he traveled back he wasn't in the best state to begin with. As an Unspeakable he'd been working late despite only just turning the legal age of seventeen. It was hard to believe the war was over, he did a ritual as old as time and summoned the horcrux's out infront of him and destroyed them in the heat of battle outside of Hogwarts. Many fought, many wounded, many died. The backup plan with the time-turner failed.

It was over.

The time turner was shattered, there was no going back -er . . . forwards?

Sigh.

"Weary traveler! Welcome to the Kingdom of the Pharaoh, Atem," greeted one of the guards outside of the village gate. Harry bowed his head respectfully at the identical spear-wielding guards.

"I-if you do not mind my asking, why are you out here guarding the slaves and simple people?" asked Harry in genuine interest, his voice was weak and raspy but the guards understood. From Harry's understanding of ancient history this was considered irregular.

"Our Pharaoh is kind, we are ordered to guard his people from, the Thief King," his eyes narrowed, the other guard grumbled.

Harry picked up on a lot of annoyance coming from the guards and fear...how odd.

"Who is this...Thief King?" coughed Harry, his throat began to ache but he ignored it, it was so hard to talk when suffering severe dehydration.

The guards looked surprised at this, they stared at Harry for a moment before one of them answered.

"You do not know of the King of Thieves? My! You must have come from very far to have not heard of him, all of Egypt trembles from him except our mighty Pharaoh!" he said, clutching his spear in a tighter hold as if the man would come from the sands at any given moment.

Harry found himself being reminded strongly of Voldemort. Grimly he noted there seemed to be evil lurking wherever you go, it simply doesn't end.

As he was about to amble through his body fell forwards, he simply couldn't go on. Quickly before he fell he conjored up a strong staff to support himself, the guards gasped.

"Sorcerer!" they yelled, grabbing their spears.

"Due to the law of the Pharaoh we must take suspicious foreigners in for questioning for allegance to the unfriendly nations, enemies or Thief King," snarled one guard, the other kept to his post while the other tied his hands behind his back with a rope. Harry held his head up proudly as he was marched through the village shamefully as if he were a criminal.

Harry felt the burning judgemental stares and the odd glare, 'Oh Merlin it feels like third year all over again!' he thought dryly as he was knocked unconsious and carried to the Palace.

The palace dungeons to be exact.

"My Pharaoh!" breathed one of the royal messangers, eyes wide. The gold-laden tanned man who sat on an impressive thrown stared down at him.

"There is a prisoner, a foreigner. . . a sorceror! He claims to be no danger to the people, but his power is immense and-" rambled the messanger boy. The Pharaoh raised a hand to silence him calmly.

"Bring him to me" he said, he could not hide his curiosity. The boy fumbled out and his royal court stood beside him, one of them smiling knowingly.

A boy-sorceror? He frowned This could either be great news or terrible news and may Ra help us all if he is truly that powerful. . .

XXXENDCHAPTERXXXX

Yeah this is just an excuse for me to write a war-hardened Harry x-over with yaoi smut... so shoot me :P