Disclaimer:Do Not Own Either Harry Potter or Yu-Gi-Oh

Dreams and Beginnings.

The Ring was leading him somewhere. He knew not where, only that the answers he sought were at the destination.

At the foot of the Theban mountains, he found the ruins of a village. Feeling that a great evil had been done here, the priest-magician began calling upon his Ka. Pharaoh Aknamkanon had entrusted him with this duty, his conviction would not let him fail, he would find the truth hidden here.

The Heka chants grew in intensity as the spirits of the dead started to rise from the earth. The golden ring hanging from the priest-magician's neck, adorned with the Eye of Wadjet, began to glow as the events of Kul Elna's destruction played out before him.

(Monday, December 14, 1987)
(4 Privet Drive, 5:23 AM)

Harry Potter woke with a start. Another one of those dreams, He thought as the last vestiges of sleep left him. Checking the time, the dark haired child quickly turned on his tiny light and grabbed one of the old notebooks he kept hidden in his cupboard.

The notebooks were mostly unused before he had nicked them from his cousin when the dreams started five months before. The pig-in-a-wig would never know his "freak cousin" was using them; he didn't bother to pay attention to his old school stuff.

The dreams only happened once or twice a week, and were never in the right order, but he took great care to record them. The boy knew these dreams were different. They were not normal dreams.

Normal dreams didn't cause his scar to fade or carve an image on the small rectangular slab that appeared on his seventh birthday. Normal dreams didn't feel so real, didn't leave him with an empty longing for something impossible; feeling as though he lived out his dreams even after he awoke told him that these were special. These dreams that told stories of sand and pharaohs, monsters and magic.

These dreams told the life of Mahad, Friend of the Pharaoh, High Priest of the Millennium Ring and master of both Heka and Shadow magic. They left a powerful kind of ache inside him, half joy, and half terrible sadness. Sometimes, I think I would prefer the nightmares, Harry thought bitterly, as he always did when he compared his own family to the one in his dreams.

He would never let his relatives see these journals, hear about his dreams, or find the palm sized stone tablet. In their eyes it would be another sign of his "abnormality" as his uncle called it. It made him despise the Dursleys even more.

Checking the time as he finished writing about the ruined village, he hid the book and turned off the light in case his aunt decided he needed to help with the bacon again.

In keeping these dream journals, Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, had unknowingly begun to study magical practices long forgotten by modern wizards.

( Wednesday, July 24, 1991)
(4 Privet Drive, 10:23 PM)

Getting the Dursleys to rationalize anything he didn't want them to notice as not their problem had been the focus of his magical study for nearly two years. Using it to avoid the disaster that was Dudley's birthday yesterday was a major step forward in his studies. Keeping the letter hidden from them all day had been less exhausting, but a better exercise in controlling Heka. He turned the letter over in his hands; feeling the energy in the parchment as it tingled under his fingertips.

Mr. H. Potter,

The Cupboard Under the Stairs,

4 Privet Drive,

Little Whinging,

Surrey.

Now he sat on his camp-bed comparing the energy in the parchment to his notes on both his and Mahad's magic.

Shadow magic was instantly written off as a possibility. It was also different enough from the Heka practiced in Egypt to rule it out as well, though the similarities made it seem bizarre. The energy felt similar enough to Ka- the Vital Spark of the soul- that Harry was certain they were related; however, the energy was so faint that he couldn't tell how. He didn't even feel the spell until the letter was in his hand as his own Ka nearly smothered it.

His attempts to "read" the spell had nearly shattered the magic because it was less dense than his own. It wasn't weak, not exactly, just weird.

It was almost as if the spell was powered by Ka, but at the same time by something completely different.

Harry froze at the implications of that. Magic that isn't powered by Ka, Harry realized with awe, how would that even be possible? I mean, it has been four thousand years since Mahad learned magic, but powering a spell without using Ka goes against everything Mahad knew. And he knew so much about magic that he started teaching it.

Excited at the possibilities of new magic, but still carefully observing the spell, Harry broke the seal and began reading the first page;

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Harry J. Potter,

I am pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. As you have no way to contact the school, a member of the faculty will help collect your school supplies on the morning of the Twenty-Sixth.

Yours sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore
Headmaster.

A school for magic was writing to him.

No wait, the Headmaster for a school for magic was writing to him.

His elation at the new form of magic cooled as he continued reading the letter. The second page actually was a list of required items and texts- which included cauldron and pointed hat; but a magician he had never met knew his True Name.

True Names, given at birth, express the very nature of a soul; knowing this True Name granted magicians the power to control or break control over people and to connect with other people's souls. Without any knowledge of how this new magic worked with the soul, Harry began worrying what the headmaster of this school knowing his name meant; and therefore, almost missed the spells activation as it flew off to the north.

The magic knew when I finished the second page. Was it informing the headmaster that I read the letter? Do headmasters normally write the acceptance letters to new students?

Harry shook his head to stop the flood of questions. The only way to get answers was to wait for his teacher to arrive on Friday.

Having decided long ago to leave this place at the first opportunity; Harry started to pack his schoolbag with a spare change of clothes and the few possessions he truly valued, which were his journals and the small slab of stone with an old angry wizard carved in the front. Those he would never leave behind.

He was finally leaving this Gods Forsaken house. Just one more day with these people and he wouldn't have to return here again.

Thursday passed far too slowly for the young wizard's liking. Hiding his excitement made him cranky and short tempered. Nearly snapping at the Dursleys resulted in Harry still being locked in the cupboard Friday morning when a loud banging shook the house; causing Vernon to roar angrily as he went to answer the door.

Opening the door, Vernon's yelling died off and Harry heard a loud voice ask for him, so he began calling to whoever was here to pick him up. Heavy footsteps approached, and then the cupboard door was simply gone and Harry was on the floor. Nobody spoke as he got to his feet; and began to stare at his teacher, who was angrily pointing his umbrella at Vernon.

Nothing in his or Mahad's experience prepared Harry for meeting a human over eleven feet tall. Spirit beasts certainly got that tall, but not humans.

Keeping his umbrella pointed at Vernon, the giant turned to the young man and spoke. "Hello Harry. Las' time I saw yeh, you was only a baby. Yeh look a lot like yer dad, but ye've got yer mum's eyes."

Harry was certain that he would always remember the row that Hagrid's arrival at the Dursleys home had caused.

First he ripped the cupboard door off, then he gave Dudley a pigs tail before finally turning a rifle into a pretzel with his bare hands. When they revealed all the lies they told Harry, Hagrid became really pissed off. Hearing the giant tell them that they didn't deserve Harry caused a warmth to spread through Harry. Somebody actually caring about his well being only ever happened in his dreams before.

Telling them he hoped never to see them again, Harry followed Hagrid to his motorcycle and then it was too loud during the trip to ask any questions about Hogwarts or his parents.

While the Leaky Cauldron was somewhat disappointing, Diagon Alley was beyond his expectations. All thoughts of the Dursleys fled when that wall opened. He could feel the magic flowing through the air as everybody went about their business. So much magic was flying about that Harry barely needed to extend his magical senses to feel it.

This place is Brilliant, Harry concluded as he absentmindedly noticed a bushy haired girl literally drag her parents into a bookstore with a shield-like sign. I can finally start truly training my magic here.

So, after getting money from his Gringotts Vault, Harry started back through the Alley when he suddenly felt a vague pulling sensation on his Ka. It terrified Harry because Mahad had felt this once before, when he had been Chosen as High Priest of the Millennium Ring. Darting towards the feeling, Harry found himself outside a shop declaring it had been in business since 382 BC. He jumped when Hagrid appeared beside him.

Seeing that the young wizard wanted to get his wand before everything else, Hagrid mumbled something about "Getting yeh a room a' the Cauldron fer now" and left Harry in Ollivander's care. And now he found himself between two growing piles of wands; the first pile had wands that felt lifeless to Harry, while the second set all reacted very violently in his hands.

"Try this one, Holly, Eleven inches, Phoenix Tail feather; Go ahead." Ollivander rambled as he handed Harry yet another wand. His hand felt like it was on fire as soon as he grasped it. That one went to the second pile.

"No, no, not that one. But reacted to phoenix feather again, so maybe…" and with that, the old wandmaker disappeared to the back of the store and returned with a simple black box.

The wand jumped to Harry's outstretched hand as soon as box was opened. It fit his hand so perfectly that it seemed to have been made just for him. Flicking his wrist, he turned back to Ollivander and declared, "This is the one, this is my wand."

"How very interesting," Ollivander mused as the wand released waving gold streams of light that quickly dissolved into harmless sparks. "The wand chooses the wizard, remember... I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter."

"Twelve inches, Ebony, with a very… peculiar core," Ollivander informed Harry, bringing the young wizard's attention from his wand back to its maker.

"A very strange phoenix gave me the feather for this one. As large as of a dragon, made of pure gold and surrounded by flames that were brighter than the sun. It flapped its wings, but once, and a single feather fell to my hand. No one noticed the disturbance in my shop-and the feather, it would not accept any wandwood but this one," he trailed off, staring at Harry intently for several moments before finishing, "I completed this wand on July Thirty-First, 1980."

"Yes... we must expect great things from you indeed; Mr. Potter. That will be nine Galleons."

Harry handed over the coins quickly, thinking furiously as he left the shop. Completed on the day he was born, a golden phoenix-dragon, flames brighter than the sun. What was the answer? He was certain that it had to do with his Mahad dreams, the description had too many similarities to a spirit beast to be anything else. He just couldn't remember what beast fit that description.

"Oy Harry, o'er here," Harry snapped out of his daze and looked up to see Hagrid moving through the crowd with an owl perched on his arm; "Know yer birthdays not fer a few days, but here ya go."

"She's beautiful." Harry replied, finding it hard to control his emotions as he took the perch and snowy white owl from the half-giant.

"Let's get ya settled a' the Cauldron an' we can talk 'bout yer mum and dad." Hagrid responded while drawing Harry into a one-armed hug.

From that day on, Harry Potter would consider Hagrid one of his truest friends.

(Saturday, July 27, 1991)
(Hogwarts Castle, 10:45 AM)

Several very special trinkets lay silently on the desk. No dizzying movements, no smoke generated, nothing; they were completely still. They had begun failing these past few years and Dumbledore did everything he could to bolster the wards they monitored, but yesterday they had failed completely.

Harry had turned his back on the Dursleys; and in the process, destroyed the wards that had kept him safe for these last ten years.

He knew that Petunia's jealousy of Lily would be hard for her overcome; however, he had believed that she would grow to love her nephew simply because they were family. Unfortunately, Petunia's jealousy had run deeper than he had suspected and now Harry was vulnerable.

Fortunately for both the headmaster and Harry, a new option had already presented itself.

Six months ago, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement began reorganizing their files and found some surprising information.

Sirius Black was never given a trial. While criminals were often imprisoned without trial if they were caught breaking the law, the old families, the ones that could trace their history to the times before Hogwarts, always ensured that they would be given a trial to prevent themselves from being similarly imprisoned.

Since the old families held twenty-seven of the fifty Wizengamot seats, they had never moved more quickly to order a trial under Veritaserum and broadcast over the Wizarding Wireless Network.

The outcome was quite unexpected; however, with Peter Pettigrew being stripped of his posthumous Order of Merlin and Sirius Black released to St. Mungo's for treatment for prolonged Dementor exposure. Most wizards now believed that Pettigrew blowing himself up while framing Black was a fitting punishment.

Right now, it left the old man with the perfect way to continue to protect Harry- and keep Sirius from doing anything too stupid for his own good.

Standing from his desk, Dumbledore stepped up to the fireplace. Grabbing a handful of the silvery floo powder, he threw it into the flames before calling out clearly "Black Manor, Ashford district, Kent."

It was like an odd muggle saying he heard once, "Killing two birds with one spell."

CHAPTER END

AN:Just a couple changes, spelling corrections and the card.

Let me just say a few things right now:

1. Harry will be the only student learning Shadow Magic at Hogwarts. That's not to say others won't have spirit beasts, just that only Harry will be able to summon and control them.

2. It makes no sense for a "Noble and Most Ancient" pure-blood supremacist family to live in a purely muggle area. In my mind, that's just where the Head of House put Sirius' parents. He did believe in pure-blood supremacy, but Walburga was an annoying woman who wouldn't shut up (not to mention coo-coo for coco-puffs). Putting her in the house surrounded by muggles was his revenge for having to listen to her voice.

3. As you may have noticed, I have changed around the YGO magic a little. This is to make the two systems fit smoothly together while staying as true as I can to the sources, more on that next chapter.

Next Chapter:Egyptian vs. Wizarding magic, a Train ride, and the Sorting feast.