Acta Non Verba,

A.U as fuck, YAOI YGOXHP Crossover,

Yaoi [future lemon], boyxboy lpve, hit the back button if it isn't your thing. Whhheeew it's been a while hasn't it folks? I admit certain scenes had me stressing, rewriting and occasionally editing in-and-out repeatedly until I settled on this version [the struggle had me also trying to put this off] but here it is! Finally! Read, review, favorite, stalk to your hearts content folks x

, OOC, HarryxMarik romance/drama/angst. R&R AbuseWarning! BoyLove!... I DO NOT OWN YUGIOH OR HARRY POTTER xxx

When they eventually parted from Yugi's gang, Harry set to wondering.

Perhaps, Marik had become a poison to him, corrupting him to go along with his schemes. Or maybe he couldn't bring himself to love his friend for who he'd become, did that make Harry a bad person?

No, he still cared for Marik the same way he had for years except now he was filled with concern and self doubt after seeing what he'd grown into. A murderer. A manipulator.

Clutching the Millennium Ankh around him he shot a sidelong look at Marik who was scanning the area for 'quick' duelists, easy inexperienced new players whom he could quickly defeat to win locator cards faster.

"Marik,"

"Mhm?"

"Are you happy with the way things have turned out?" he asked quietly.

"What do you mean?" shot back Marik curiously.

"You know what I mean," Harry looked to the ground, only to jerk up in surprise when he felt Marik link arms with him again, tightly.

"I promise you this, when the Pharaoh is destroyed, the world is our oyster, and it'll all be worth it," promised Marik, darkness in his eyes. Harry clutched the Ankh tighter, knuckles shifting colour. Marik was lost inside, and if Harry could only have seen into his psyche, he would have seen the innocent side of Marik pounding in the confinement of a glass pyramid tightly in his soul-room. His own darkness would become him, eclipse him, eventually. They'll come a time where Marik's good-side is locked within that confinement forever...and darkness...will rule...

The Ankh told him that Marik was lost inside, in what way? Harry wasn't sure.

"Ugh I have a better idea instead of looking for duelists for locator cards, lets do something else for now," said Marik eventually.

"Like?"

"Spend the day together,"

"I've waited so long, and now we're together again, it's funny because I don't know where to start even though I spent six years thinking," said Harry bemusedly.

They walked, they went down Domino's mainstream pass them, all of them talking about the tournament, and a lot of them armed with duel disks. True, neither of them knew where to begin. They walked side by side until Harry found a more secluded road to talk.

"I wanted to ask you something," began Marik, Harry pressed him to go on, wondering what.

"About what happened in the coffee shop?," Harry grimaced, oh...that. He wondered if he should be straight with Marik and tell him what had happened but at the same time he didn't want Marik to think he was nuts. He needed a delicate way of phrasing what was going on and at times like this he wished he was more eloquent. There was also no getting around the fact that Marik was flat out dark, and another side of him that was just plain evil. Harry's neck burned with embarrassment as he struggled over how to phrase what had been going on with him for so many years, he didn't even tell his fellow fighters who had occasionally gotten curious about his nightmares and what he went through.

"I wasn't asking for an answer Harry, I'm demanding one," said Marik icily, there was no excuse for bizarre Harry had acted and if it was enough to freak out a Hekan warrior then he had to know what it was.

Harry almost froze up at his friend's tone, but quickly styled it off.

"I don't think you'd believe it if I told you," said Harry meekly, hoping Marik would accept that answer but unfortunately for him the Egyptian pressed it.

"Try me,"

The Ishtar hadn't quite expected to hear what Harry's explanation was, it was certainly a strange one. It made him aware of a side to the Hekan he had no idea existed and whilst it wasn't something along the lines of an evil alter-ego that shared his body it did fall pretty close. He had no idea how Harry had suffered or even that he was suffering at all, he thought all that had ended for his friend when he left his relatives and all that had struck him over time was the struggles of travelling and searching. A small feeling of sadness for him bubbled in the pit of Marik's stomach, accompanied with a few others that he wasn't sure he should let surface or not.

"I know it sounds crazy, but I swear that it's like I'm in somebody else's head whenever I sleep. It's been this way for years now, and it's sort of haunted me for a long time," said Harry softly.

"Elaborate on 'haunted'," replied Marik smoothly, not showing any reaction thus far.

"You know better then anyone what it's like to possess someone else...to reach inside someone and control them from the mind. I bet if you really wanted to, you could even warp their perception of reality and see things that aren't there," said Harry.

"-and that's what he does? He does that to you?" Marik didn't seem to doubt Harry's story for a second, and seemed somewhat angered by the idea of anyone messing with Harry's mind like that, in his head, the only people justifiably doing that was himself.

"I could have sworn that I saw him serving in the coffee shop, smiling at me and it wigged me out," admitted Harry.

"Understandably, so...who is this character that seems to enjoy fiddling with your head?" asked Marik.

"His name is Tom Riddle," said Harry quietly giving Marik a very serious and solemn look "-and he's been hunting me for as long as I've been searching for you, except I don't know why,"

"Sometimes I see a memory in his head, he's killed Marik. I don't know how he managed it but with some obscure magic he's killed hundreds, probably thousands and now he wants to kill me, and I don't know why. I don't know how it is that we have a mental connection, but he has an idea of where I am," said Harry, until Marik turned rather dark and somewhat unsettling.

"I wouldn't worry about that," he said in such a way that it almost drove Harry into shivers "-because I can assure you, I am much, MUCH worse,"

"I don't plan on letting this Riddle person get that close to you again, you say this happens when you sleep? I can see this far transcends 'nightmares', so perhaps we should switch your sleeping arrangements," smirked Marik with a glint in his eye that Harry couldn't quite figure out.

When Marik Ishtar had suggested changing sleeping arrangements, Harry had no idea the devious Egyptian was planning this. Within the hotel, Harry found his trunk moved into Marik's master bedroom, and upon the massive curtained king-sized bed were silken covers, room for two.

"I'll get one of the mind slaves to bring in a single when I can, but for now this will have to do," Marik smirked at the half mortified, half pleased young Hekan who was reduced to spluttering in an uncommonly undignified manner for a warrior of his caliber.

"If you're sleeping with, pardon, I mean beside me then I can assure you that whatever happens to attack you in your sleep will be swiftly dealt with," said Marik, slowly peeling out of the long purple robe that belonged to his gang, letting it slide loosely all the way down his bare back to the floor. The whole time he hadn't had a shirt on beneath his robe and had left Harry's cheeks burning with embarrassment, to cover this up, Harry turned around and quickly began undressing into Marik's extra pajamas and distanced himself far away to the right of the bed.

Marik continued smirking and lay down on the far left to create a comfortable space between the two to ease Harry's nerves. He wasn't even facing Marik on the bed but he could tell from the bright red flesh of Harry's neck that he was probably blushing from head to toe.

He didn't realize it was this easy to get Harry into his bed.

"No offense or anything, but what can you do if Tom Riddle decides to attack my mind? He doesn't always project," said Harry quietly, muttering into the pillow.

"Like I said, I'm much, much worse and he isn't the only one with access to minds," that briefly alluded to the fact that Marik had no qualms about entering inside of Harry's to defend him from this Tom Riddle fellow -if he even existed.

Harry heard Marik drop the Millennium Rod on top of the small drawer beside the bed with a soft metallic clink and then he pulled the covers over the both of them, and Harry attempted to sleep despite the funny knots in the pit of his stomach.

It happened as surely as it did every other night, and Voldemort had not been expecting new company. Harry's arms and leg movement had been paralyzed by fear, and he felt a ghostly hand with some amount of power start to curl itself around his neck and begin choking him. The choking and hacking noises Harry made alerted Marik who darted up in the bed, being a light sleeper and turned his head to see Harry struggling to breath and slowly turning another hue while something rather ghostly was floating just above. It looked like it was there in some way, but not really, almost astral -something told Marik that he shouldn't have been able to see it anyway.

Grabbing the Millennium Rod, he aimed it at Harry and stood between the mental link, dark magic like none other oozing from the rod.

Voldemort was so sure he was breaking Harry apart mentally just as planned, until he saw a shadowed figure step right in the middle of the mind link with a weapon-wand like he'd never seen before. It had a darkness about it that he never ever felt before and Voldemort met a rather swift attack.

"Stay out of his mind Tom, the only other person he belongs to is me, and nobody else," growled the figure. Voldemort let out a maniacal laugh as dark magic hit him so powerfully it was slowly pushing him out of Harry's mind.

"How cute, Potter has a little protector," cooed Voldemort mockingly, eyes wild as he began to slowly disintegrate out of Harry's mind.

"I suppose your mental defeat is stalled for another day, but you're merely on borrowed time Potter! Borrowed time!" the words echoed throughout his skull until all remnant of Voldemort had been thrown out temporarily by the ancient power of the Millennium Rod.

Marik put the rod back down beside the bed and threw the covers off the both of them to see Harry panting and having color rush back into his features. Sweat rolled down Harry's temple as the poor boy tried to regain control of his heart and lungs which felt ready to burst, but were suddenly relaxing as Marik tugged Harry upright also and into his chest. This was the Ishtar's chance, the feelings developed for the other had far surpassed platonic a while back and it was merely a case of one of them acting upon it.

Harry looked up to see himself resting on the bare chest of Marik, ear to the gentle calm thud of a heartbeat, too bad his own racing one couldn't follow suit. He was looking up into annoyingly calm violet eyes, feeling soft strands of blond hair brushing down to his cheek from Marik tilting his head downward to stare Harry down and create a breathe's distance between their faces.

Reaching out shyly and placing his hand on the Egyptian's shoulder to gently boost himself up a few millimeters to slowly close the gap between them. Marik wasn't moving a muscle, hell he wasn't even blinking, but oddly it wasn't unnerving, it was somewhat reassuring. There was only one thing that people did at such a close intimate range, with this type of tension in the air that was so thick it could be sliced a multitude of times with a sword. With a gentle tilt of his head to stop their noses from bumping, Harry slowly drew forward and froze up mere millimeters from Marik's lips.

His paranoia suddenly kicked in, hoping he wasn't merely taking advantage of the awkward moment, or if it was something they were both nonverbally consenting too, but Harry was snapped out of his thoughts when Marik's fingers gently slipped under his chin and tilted Harry up further and bringing himself forward to vanquish the millimeter distance. Marik wasn't known for his patience, and it had run rather thin at the awkward first-move, prompting him to bring them together.

Pushing aside the fact they were friends, wasn't it rather unwise to fall for someone who turned so evil, he killed his own father in cold blood? Someone, who for all intent and purposes would forsake all others to achieve his own goals? Including his family?

The good side of Marik still existed somewhere inside of his friend, he knew that or Odion and Isis would have long since been killed by now. Meaning he was capable of loving even though he mistreats those around him at times.

Harry's thoughts were washed apart by the tingling sensation that remained, and the silence only broken by gentle deep breaths. The silhouette form of two figures leaning into each other had suddenly made the Spirit of the Ring do a double-take backwards, suddenly going to discuss the plan so he could finally have the Millennium Rod didn't seem like a good idea at the moment.

The Spirit of the Ring then calmly straightened himself out, and quietly walked out of the room as silently as he had entered, unspotted. Shutting the door again with an unnoticed click he smirked as he walked down the hotel corridor, chuckling amusedly to himself.

He found it rather funny that he was correct all along with his assumptions on how close the two were which only made the future teasing so much sweeter.

Harry could have sworn he heard the door click but paid no mind to anything except what was going on between them both, having absolutely no romantic history behind him, Harry had to wonder if what they were doing was even right.

While Harry's mind seemed to be going into overdrive, Marik wasn't even thinking about his actions as he did them because for once his mind was deliciously blank and no side of him was fighting for once.

Harry had frozen up apart from the hand that remained on Marik's shoulder that squeezed and twitched but was unable to react in any other way as his head tilted back to draw back, with the sound of their lips gently coming apart breaking the monotonous sound of heavy breathing.

"Marik," it came out quite breathlessly to Harry's dismay, any hope of regaining control of the situation had gone and though the room was dimly lit with a small, small lamp he could see the smirk on Marik's face. For the second time in his life Marik had been able to make him lose the feeling in his legs from the kneecaps down except this time it wasn't out of utter fear of being killed.

The smirk turned into a legitimate smile and when the lamp light went off, Marik finally said something back.

"You're mine, understand?" it was half growl, half command, half purr and Harry really wasn't sure which side of Marik was saying it but all that mattered was that he was saying it. It wasn't exactly romantic nor did Marik come at Harry like they were in Casablanca, but he couldn't ask for more because for the first time in a long time, he could sleep properly.

And he was not afraid.

For Marik perhaps it was a matter of dominance and to claim dominance over one of the deadlier men on the planet was an accomplishment and also very useful not only that but it was something each side of Marik could find a reason to have around. Whilst Yami Marik was looking at Harry as more of a manipulatable object, to Marik as a whole he certainly meant a lot more, they were long-ago friends and as of a few minutes ago were something more.

How was it that Harry always managed the impossible? To track down, reunite and become romantically entangled with a boy that'd grown so cold that he'd forsake all others for his own ends?

Harry had wondered this himself until he heard words in mind from not so long ago.

Flashback

"When I say protect the leader of the Rare Hunters, I mean, really protect...even if that means from himself, do you understand?" Ishizu said to Harry as she appointed him his 'job' in Domino museum.

End Flashback

Those words had rang out in his mind as he fell asleep next to the blond, who urged him closer, not too close, but close enough to keep a hold of should anything else happen to Harry in his slumber. Protect Marik even if it means from himself, maybe...he'd been too judgmental of him. The psychological damage done to his friend was anything but his fault, it was the fault of the late Mr. Ishtar [senior] for trying to keep Marik away from the rest of the world in order to guard the tomb of a Pharaoh who had been dead for thousands of years. Harry could understand why of course, the Hekan coven he joined was devoted to protecting and keeping alive ancient Egypt's magic which was apart of it's history that far extended anything the muggle SCA could handle. But still, to try and block off the entire world from someone was just...wrong.

Of course, Marik had broken the tomb keeper's clan now. Harry leaned into his side and sighed wondering how he got to sleep so easily after everything that had just happened.

This was probably the real job that Harry was sent on which Ishizu had been so subtle about, he had to pull her brother back out of the darkness he'd plunged into. It would be no easy task but if he, Odion and his own family along with now...lover? Could not do it, then absolutely nobody could and in Harry's eyes, Marik was far from being a lost cause despite what anyone else thought about him.

England:

Aunt Petunia hadn't expected hide or hair of the Freak or any part of his life to collide with hers and had received an awful shock when an escaped magical convict had arrived at her door looking ready to lynch her with his bare hands in search of Harry Potter.

Sirius Orion Black was not pleased when Petunia said she didn't know where Harry went, but then opted to interrogate Vernon Dursley who immediately lost his arragonce and bravado when he brandished a stolen wand from his half torn dirty sleeve.

"Legilimens!" it was a spell he'd only ever done twice in his life and that was before his incarceration so it was certainly strange for him to suddenly do it now, but he was too angry and antsy to wait for the muggles to start spilling answers to he opted to rip through their minds to get it instead.

When he saw the memories pertaining to his godson, there were no words to describe how utterly pissed Sirius Black was. His black eyes had practically glowed with a rage that would collectively make Dumbledore, Snape and Voldemort shit their pants. He saw what Vernon's disgusting friends had done to Harry one fateful poker night, and all of the other acts of abuse that had happened from Vernon's hand.

They say that to perform an Unforgivable curse, you have to mean it, and there wasn't an iota of doubt in Sirius's mind that he couldn't do it, because at this point he felt like he could 'Crucio' and 'Avada Kedavra' to his hearts content and not feel an inch of remorse. The last thing he needed was proof to his label as a murderer though, so with a rather aggressive movement of the wand in his hand he casted the worst hex he could think of and rendered Vernon Dursley impaired. He was mute, deaf and blind and the spell certainly wasn't a legal one but it wasn't an Unforgivable either. In his eyes the only greater justice for Vernon would be the Dementer's kiss or a straight up killing curse to the heart, so this was as close as it'd get, but it certainly left Sirius smirking despite the remnants of rage festering inside of him at the cruel violation of his godson.

Sirius performed legilimens on Petunia also and saw similar though not nearly as cruel acts of abuse but was pleasently surprised when he saw moments were Petunia actually acted humane toward Harry through small acts of mercy. This led him to believe that at the very least Petunia was not well in the head and therefore didn't quite deserve the impairing hex, though she provided his godson with an escape. Whether this was the right thing to do or not, it was still an act of mercy to spare Harry of more pain, now all he had left to hope for was that if the Dursley's didn't destroy Harry Potter, the big wide world didn't.

The days had passed as he had roamed around living mostly in his animagus form and was treated by sympathetic civilians as a stray who was occasionally tossed a loaf of leftovers, but the suffering would be worth it if he could find his godson.

The worldwide news had been filled with his escape but also a controversy about traditional Egyptian warriors travelling to Japan as warriors with permission to do any means necessary to forfill their jobs, had caused quite a ruckus. It'd been called the license to more-or-less kill that was outraging and controversy worthy, but that's not what caught Sirius Black's attention. The Egyptian Hekan warriors had many news stories and the occasional documentary about them, all of which he tried to see and read, and he was alarmed to find one of them had familiar green eyes.

Familiar facial structure.

Familiar forehead scar, in a picture of him tucking his thick black bangs back.

He almost had a heart attack, struck between pride, awe, disbelief and shock...he hadn't expected that to come of his Prongslet.

It looked like Japan was next on the list of places to look...