Really Long Author Notes: My knowledge of Yu-Gi-Oh is woefully incomplete. That is, I have read manga volumes 1-7 (season 0) and also 31-38 (memory world arc), but not anything in between. Instead, I have watched the dubbed rendering of the anime by 4kids, which has been horrendously mutilated in favor of censoring violence and death. I have also seen a few of the Japanese episodes, mainly the Marik flashbacks so I could descry them in their full violent and death-inclusive glory. I have only seen up to the end of Battle City, which means that no, I have not seen the KC Grand Prix and DOMA Orichalcos filler arcs. But since they are filler arcs, they are not important to the plot, however interesting they may be, and due to the fact that this story is set only a bit after Battle City, unimportant to it as well.

I cannot write a duel to save my life, and I seriously doubt that there will be any need for it anyways. But if the time comes that someone duels, I will try my pathetic best, because I hate it when people write 'they dueled.' '(Insert name here) won.' That is just well... terribly short and boring.

The Spirit of the Ring will be referred to as 'Bakura,' 'Thief King,' or 'Tomb Robber,' as well as by his other titles by the narrator when he is in control, due to the fact that the narrator is omniscient and awesome. Ryou will only ever refer to him as 'the spirit,' 'Spirit of the Ring,' or 'Yami/Dark Bakura.' He does not know that the spirit was the Thief King, but he certainly is aware that he likes to steal things. Therefore, his thieving tendencies will be mentioned. Also, in my opinion, the Spirit of the Ring is still the Thief King, and not just some pure evil bit of Zork. I think he only gets that way around the people he vehemently despises- Atem being one of them- and that he can be just himself, with Zork only a niggling existence at the back of his mind in this story, where he is far far away from the Pharaoh.

This story uses Japanese names and the manga/Japanese anime concept of Shadow Games or Dark Games. That means the loser gets a penalty game, dies, or gets his soul sealed in an object, and doesn't just 'get sent to the Shadow Realm' or some crap like that every time. The Shadow Realm will exist as a place, as I need some excuse for the magic-ness outside of games and the English dub conveniently creates a good one. Besides, I'm pretty sure the Japanese anime does mention some sort of dark plane where the monsters are and where people who lose the more serious shadow games (like the ones in battle city) go if they don't die.

I don't really like using random Japanese terms because it can be annoying to other people, but I will use the ones often used in canon or fandom. Yadonushi means parasitic host/landlord. Yami means dark. Hikari means light. There also happens to be a Japanese sentence in this chapter, but it is needed.

I am aware that Ryou is not British, merely very polite in his language usage. However, due to the fact that this is a fanfic, and also a Harry Potter crossover, it is in my best interests to claim that he is from England so he has an excuse to be involved. It's so horribly cliché for him to just get a Hogwarts letter when HE'S IN JAPAN. Also, I will try to portray Yami no Bakura (Dark Bakura) in character (at least at first), but it is unlikely I will succeed, so I apologize in advance. As far as I know, I have never ever read a fic where he wasn't rather OOC.

Finally, I am also aware that Ryou's father isn't mentioned exactly, and we only assume he's alive and away. In this story, he will be an archaeologist, because that's what everyone likes to say, and it's convenient. Now I am at last finished with my annoying blathering.

Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh is authored/owned by Kazuki Takahashi, not me. Harry Potter is by J.K. Rowling, also not me. This is merely the product of the idle imaginations of a bored teenager who is making no money. Therefore, You-Know-Who demands that you-no-sue.

"Speech"
"Telepathy"
'Thoughts'
(Translation for foreign sentences)

Sorry in advance for grammatical/typographical errors. If you see any, it would be good of you to point them out to me. I do put a comma before the and in a list, because I'm just like that. On with the story!

xxxxxx

Ryou ran his hand agitatedly through his strands of snowy white hair. His day had really not been going well. For one, the spirit had been rightly pissed off when one of his daggers (a dagger that Ryou wasn't aware of owning) had been confiscated by the airport security workers, who were astonished that an innocent looking child would have such a dangerous weapon upon his person. Fortunately, his baggage had already gone through, which meant that the various weapons (of the illegal type), pilfered valuables, and contraband that Yami no Bakura had undoubtedly thrown in would be fine for the present time.

Now that he was safely aboard the plane, he had assumed that he could get some peace of mind, but it was not to be so. For he was wedged in between two bickering brothers, who talked and waved fists in front of him and utterly ignored his presence. A pounding migraine was building up in his skull, promising further torture. Ryou had a mind to dive into his soul room and shove his yami out to deal with the real world, but he was afraid for the well being of those nearby, as well as his own, for he didn't know if he could regain control if he let go of it. However, he was becoming increasingly more annoyed, and was leaning towards the sentiment that they would deserve whatever the spirit decided to do to them, and he wouldn't even care that his body was occupied.

Ryou could still feel the waves of anger washing through the strange mental link he had with the Spirit of the Ring. Apparently, Dark Bakura hadn't gotten over the loss of his knife just yet. Ryou sighed and resigned himself to make his own situation more desirable. Hadn't his dark always manipulated him, been able to completely shut his soul out from his own body? Ryou was sure it was because he was too weak and too soft to stop the spirit. He resolved that he would be strong, and now was as good a time as any to live up to that promise.

"If you two don't shut up right now, I'll make you." he hissed, trying his best to appear menacing. The two boys stopped arguing for a second to stare incredulously at the doe-eyed, cuddly, and utterly innocuous looking albino before them. The one on the right snickered.

"Oh yeah, and what're you going to do, glare at us?" he snorted. Ryou's face split into a smirk that would have made the Thief King proud. When he had said that one of his daggers had been taken by security, he meant just that. Only one of them. Due to his yami's strange obsession, he used to wake up to find that he was heavily armed, and the habit had stuck, so he had quite a few weapons stashed upon his person. The airport security simply assumed that he had none left after they'd taken the poniard that Thief King Bakura had personally placed (and succeeded in making the yami blow his top and make Ryou very nervous).

"Oh no, not when I could use this to do more... lasting damage." Ryou said ominously, flashing the knife that had been concealed up his sleeve. The boys blanched at this, and the other one began spluttering.

"Wh-what? Where'd you get that? How'd you get it on here? I'll report you!" Ryou smirked wider and waved the thing casually in front of the child's face.

"I wouldn't go talking if I were you. Wouldn't want my hand to slip." he purred. Inside, Ryou was congratulating himself on how much he sounded like his yami (or what he assumed the spirit had been like, from the descriptions of his friends as he'd been unconscious when his dark was in control). On second thought, though, that probably wasn't a good thing. In any case, his threats (largely empty, for he wouldn't hurt a fly) had achieved the desired effects, and he spent the rest of his plane ride in blissful silence.

The London Heathrow Airport was a huge and bustling place, and Ryou felt himself nearly overwhelmed by the crowd. Presently, Yami no Bakura had reawakened and was looking out of his hikari's eyes. When they reached the baggage claim, Bakura deemed his host in need of rest and pushed to the forefront, seizing control of their shared body. It was probably a good thing this time, for the yami was very assertive and managed to shove his way up to the front of the hubbub, picking up their baggage in record time and hastening out of the place.

When Ryou realized that he could still see and was conscious while the spirit was in control, he was overjoyed. His jubilation was short-lived, however, when he remembered their reason for coming. His father had wanted them to be together over the summer holiday, and of course he readily agreed, enthused at the idea of seeing his father again. However, the old coot (in the yami's words) had backed out at the last minute, having to leave for some excavation happening somewhere in an exotic country that was much more important than his own son. Ryou had reasoned that since he'd already gotten the plane ticket, that he might as well have a month-long vacation in the country where he'd been born. Besides, it might do the spirit some good if he was away from the Pharaoh, the person he hated most of all.

Bakura was greeted by a taxi rather than the man Ryou called 'father,' and as they headed for his yadonushi's London home, he couldn't help but sigh at the irony of it all. His own father, along with the rest of his family and village, had been brutally murdered by the cruel High Priest of the Pharaoh thousands of years ago to fuel the creation of those wretched millennium items. Ryou's father was all that remained of his family, but he couldn't even spare the time to see his only son. It was such a shame, for the man would've caused Bakura's yadonushi much less grief had he simply died- not that he cared or anything.

The Thief King tossed the taxi fare absently at the driver before grabbing his bags and jumping out of the car and grimacing at the perfectly kept lawns all around the block, which contrasted greatly with the dead grass before Ryou's own house, a house that had been uninhabited for the past few years. He fished for the keys at the front door of the house, frowned when he couldn't find them, and settled on his handy lock pick instead. It took less than a minute to get the door open.

"Yadonushi, you need a better lock." he chided aloud, knowing his host (who's conscious he hadn't bothered to suppress) would hear, as he easily made it into the house. For crying out loud, there wasn't even a burglar alarm.

Yami no Bakura walked inside, looked around, dropped their suitcases, and relinquished control back to his host. He had no interest in unpacking and other such menial tasks. Ryou sighed, beginning the ordeal of organizing all the things he'd brought with him (as well as the things his yami had taken the liberty of slipping into his suitcase). An exasperated smile crept its way onto the hikari's face as he discovered not one, not two, not five, six, or even nine or ten, but eleven different knives, of varying shapes and sizes but invariably easily capable of inflicting mortal wounds, interspersed throughout his neatly folded clothing. Add that to the three (slightly less dangerous) daggers that he now kept on his person, and that made 14 weapons smuggled through customs. It made him wonder just how incompetent the security really could be, as it had discovered only one of them.

Since his yami seemed to be asleep, or whatever it was that he did, Ryou took the liberty of stashing the knives where he felt they should go. The spirit could do something about it later if he wasn't pleased with it. Satisfied, he headed off to bed.

xxxxxx

As he left the house the next day to go sightseeing, he again carried- as a precaution- the three daggers he was used to having by then. Ryou took a taxi to the outskirts of the London suburbs before going on foot around town to drink in all he had missed. Equipped with his knives and a slightly psychotic spirit, he could even go into the less reputable parts of town without fear. Still however, he deemed it wiser not to do so, for his effeminate looks and childlike demeanor were magnets for unsavory attentions, and the spirit wasn't always reliable. And, speaking of magnets, Ryou jumped a mile when the ring glowed and its tines stood up and honed in on some unknown source, quivering in place and defying gravity. Both the hikari and yami were dumbfounded. As far as they knew, the thing only activated on its own when there was some shadow magic infused thing nearby- namely a millennium item or someone controlled by one. This sudden magic detection didn't add up. After all, all the items were accounted for: Yugi had the Puzzle, Rod, and Tauk; Shadi had the Ankh and Scales; and they themselves had the Ring and Eye (at least, Bakura knew he had the eye). The spirit voiced all these thoughts with one sentence.

"What the fuck?" he demanded loudly and churlishly inside their shared mindspace. Ryou cringed.

Realizing that they were being stared at, he quickly grabbed the Ring and shoved it down his shirt, muffling its glow. He then made for a deserted alleyway before pulling it back out and watching its pointers. They directed him towards the other side of the alley, and, burning with curiosity, he followed their lead. The Ring pulled him into populated territory once more, and Ryou tried his best to look normal despite being in possession of a glowing pendant that was currently going haywire. He was practically running to keep up with its tugging, and the attraction was stronger with each step he took. It dragged him past a book store and then made a ninety-degree turn with its tines to point at a blank brick wall. By then, it was nearly strangling Ryou in its insistence that there was something there.

"Go inside, Yadonushi" the Spirit of the Ring said. Ryou was bewildered.

"Inside what?" he inquired, hoping his thoughts were heard. His yami was definitely seeing something that he couldn't. Either that, or he was nuts. At the moment, both seemed reasonable.

"Inside the pub!" the now irate spirit snapped. "Oh for the love of Ra!"

The King of Thieves took over and strode into the dingy pub known as The Leaky Cauldron with an air of confidence, as if he knew exactly what he was doing and wasn't just as confused as his host. Said host was staring in shock through the eyes of his body at the doorway that had just appeared. Apparently, with the Tomb Robber in control, he could see it as clear as day. Yami no Bakura remembered to stuff the Ring into his shirt at the last minute. With a few snarls and well chosen words from Bakura, the thing calmed down and stopped glowing. As he entered, a few people looked up from whatever they were doing before losing interest or faltering on the receiving end of a dark glare.

"You're new around here, aren't you? How can I help you?" asked a wizened man standing behind the counter. He smiled. The spirit wasn't sure what to say. It wasn't that he didn't understand(since Ryou could speak English, he could as well), it was that there was something very off about this place- not to mention it was the Ring that had led them there.

Bakura had taken the Millennium Eye from Pegasus back when he had sought to unite the seven items. He had never intended to use it by itself. However, now he was immensely grateful that he had it. Although the Eye's full power could only be tapped into by replacing one of his real eyes with it(something he was not willing to do- after all, it'd ruin his good looks), it could still be utilized simply by being in his possession. Using it was precisely what the Thief King was doing at the moment, his hand clenched around the orb in his pocket and his mind concentrated on filtering out unneeded information. If simply brushing over minds was so confusing, Bakura didn't even want to know how hearing random people's deepest secrets screaming at him would feel. For the first time, he respected Pegasus, and anyone else who had used the eye to its full potential, for their mental perseverance.

"My head feels like it's going to explode!" Ryou complained. He found out that by simply talking loudly when in his soul room, he could make himself heard by his dark while the spirit was in control. He didn't bother to ask where the Millennium Eye had come from, deciding that he didn't want to know. A window had just appeared on the far wall of his soul room, and random things were flying by outside, occasionally hitting the glass with a jarring impact.

"Correction. Our head feels like its going to explode." Bakura replied with dry humor. He decided that now was a good time to let go of the wretched eyeball. As soon as his fingers left the Eye, the stream of thoughts was abruptly cut off, leaving an echoing silence within their mind. The window in Ryou's room (and unbeknown to him, in the spirit's room as well) had vanished. The Tomb Robber found that he had learned quite a bit, although it was rather unorganized. The information went something like this:

The Leaky Cauldron, entrance to Diagon Alley third brick to the left, above the dustbin Hogwarts shouldn't be muggle-borns school supplies wands, Ollivander Flourish and Blotts for books Madam Malkin's, need new robes hope I have enough money seventeen sickles to a galleon the Dark Lord returned, preposterous, Harry Potter Headmaster Dumbledore nuts Harry Potter hero Boy-Who-Lived Wizarding World Ministry of Magic fools Fudge Minister of Magic Aurors Harry Potter Dementors Ministry trial has to get off expelled impossible staying at -(here there was a strange blank)- Molly mad haven't returned home Hogwarts term starting still no defense professor...

And so on it went. It was a messed jumble, the thoughts of many people running into each other with an end result of a mass of keywords, which Bakura supposed he'd just have to make do with until he figured out how to control the power of the Millennium Eye. He paused briefly, wondering how he'd answer the man. He decided that he still had no idea what would pass as an acceptable answer. Fortunately, Ryou was there to save the day with his quick thinking. He threw his yami into his soul room and took control, mildly surprised at the lack of protest, and gave the man behind the counter his best adorable and innocent look.

"Sumimasen, watashi ha michi ni mayotte i masu... (Excuse me, I am lost...)" he began. As expected, the innkeeper stared at him in confusion. Ryou blathered on some more in Japanese before shaking his head, shrugging, and running out the back door.

"Okay, I gathered something about tapping the third brick to the left of the dustbin... That would be this one." Bakura took control and tapped said brick. Nothing happened.

"Maybe you need one of those wand things." Ryou suggested. Now that he knew how, he found it almost like second nature to speak with his dark. Was this how it was with Yugi and his other self?

"This sounds like something out of a bloody fairytale. I guess those wands are for channeling magic. I'd assume shadow magic would do the trick..." As he spoke, the Ring flashed and thudded against the designated brick. The brick wiggled and the wall seemed to convulse before disappearing piece by piece and forming into an archway.

"What do you know, it worked." Ryou murmured from within. Bakura snorted. The brick wall reformed behind him as he stepped into Diagon Alley. "Well, it just looks like more shops." His gaze was immediately attracted to a startlingly white building, which towered above the others. Of course, after he had beheld the glass and steel wonder that was the Kaiba Corp building, this marble block hardly succeeded in inspiring any measure of awe. Lettering above the doorway read 'Gringotts Bank,' and the yami's first thought was 'I wonder if these wizards have anything worthwhile to steal.'

He stalked confidently towards the bank and passed the strange creature by the door without a thought. He paused briefly at the second set of doors, smirking at the message emblazoned upon it, which to him represented something of a challenge (as opposed to a warning). He could almost feel his yadonushi rolling his eyes.

Inside the bank, behind the counter, were more of the strange creatures, who looked for all the world like reject duel monsters. Apparently, they were the bankers, so Bakura went and got in the line to reach one of them.

"Next!" the thing spat irritably. Bakura sauntered up to the counter.

"I need to exchange pounds for er... '-I think there was something about Sickles or... that's it, Galleons!-' Galleons." he said, managing to pull it off convincingly. The creature behind the desk scowled.

"How much are you exchanging?"

After a quick consultation with his light, Bakura replied, "£1000" and produced said money from somewhere on his person.

"Are you out of your mind! Why do you carry so much money on you? Scratch that, where'd you get so much money?" he yelled internally at his yadonushi.

"I'm actually pretty sure you're the one who stole it." Ryou informed him. Bakura was confused. He couldn't actually remember having stolen anything yet in England. He was rudely pulled from his thoughts as the thing behind the counter chucked a bag at him.

"One-hundred-forty-two Galleons, 8 Sickles, and 14 Knuts. Next!" Bakura turned and rushed out the door, eager to get away from the nasty tempered creatures who populated the bank before he got angry enough to send random bystanders to the shadow realm. He didn't want to attract attention. The spirit wondered what he'd do next.

"Let's get a wand." Ryou suggested. He had figured that they might be useful.

"No. We don't even know what they do exactly, and I don't think they're very shadow magic friendly. I've been feeling a bit off ever since we came near this place. Actually, I was a bit queasy even when we were back at the house. How much influence do you think this magic has around here?" Bakura wasn't sure why he was asking the hikari's opinion.

"I'd imagine quite a bit, if it has its own community. If you don't want to get a wand, let's go to a clothing shop. It'd help us blend in. People are staring."

"Blend in? I think it's a little late for that. But fine, we'll go and see." It was true. People were already shooting odd looks at the strange albino boy ambling through the crowd in muggle clothing. Most backed off when they were hit full force with a glare that nearly knocked them off their feet. Somehow, the boy's chocolate brown eyes, which should have exuded warmth, were cold and hard and had taken on an almost bloody hue. Shoppers hurried on their way, avoiding the menace of the teen's gaze. Bakura prided himself in being both creepy enough to scare and suave enough to seduce, depending on the circumstances.

As they entered Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions, they were greeted by a welcome sight (at least to the yami) of multitudes of black robes hanging from walls and folded upon racks. This was certainly his type of clothing shop, full of dark colors. Madam Malkin herself was busy fitting up a boy with slick, silvery blond hair, who was currently sneering at her. The witch pretended not to notice as she chattered on about current events and clothing sizes. She looked up at Bakura.

"I'll be with you in a moment, dear." she said. The Thief King nodded and leaned casually onto a wall, watching the scene before him indifferently. The blond boy looked decidedly impatient, and decided to strike up a conversation with the newcomer.

"Hi, I'm Draco, Draco Malfoy. I haven't seen you around before- what year are you in?" The Tomb Robber wasn't sure how to respond, and he doubted that pretending he could not speak English was a good idea this time. He reached for the Eye once more, and was again greeted by a flood of thoughts. However, this time, there were only two people in the vicinity, which meant that they were much more coherent. He learned that Draco's father was a very important person, that Draco himself was a Slytherin(whatever that was) going into fifth year at Hogwarts(which by now he'd deduced to be a school), and that Madam Malkin was being polite because Draco bought new robes very often, and it was good business. After thinking carefully for another second, Yami no Bakura came up with a suitable response.

"I am Ryou Bakura, although I prefer just Bakura. You haven't seen me around because I've been abroad in Japan." he said smoothly. Draco raised his eyebrows.

"Why Japan? It's not exactly known for its magical community." he drawled. Bakura clutched the eye firmly, concentrating. The boy was telling the truth, and not trying to test him or anything. Apparently however, Draco had already thought of an answer to this for himself: "Japan doesn't have underage magic restrictions."

"No underage magic restrictions." Bakura responded, echoing the other's thoughts. Draco smirked smugly and nodded.

"I'd leave this place myself, but Hogwarts is supposedly the best magic school around. Wouldn't want to miss out on my... education." From the sneer that accompanied this, the Thief King deduced that Draco seriously doubted the credibility of this assumption. A quick confirmation with the Eye told him that the only thing keeping the blond from leaving was his mother's insistence that he go to the school. Bakura mirrored Draco's sneer, crossing his arms.

"Oh? But I think my education's been fine without this so prestigious school." he said. Apparently, this conversation was making Madam Malkin uncomfortable. She finished with Draco and ushered Bakura over, draping a set of robes over him and starting to pin it to the right fit.

"I guess I might see you at Hogwarts. Or not." Draco called out with a last lazy wave before leaving the shop. Bakura's first impression of the boy was decent. He thought that Draco was rather similar to himself. He had enemies and allies, but no friends.

"That's not true, Yami!" Ryou chided. "You have me, and Yugi, and all his friends."

"You, perhaps, host," the Tomb Robber conceded, "but most certainly not the Pharaoh's midget and his gang. Those are more like the enemies."

Ryou decided not to respond to this. Besides, the spirit wasn't exactly the talkative type, and he was sure he was getting on his dark's nerves.

Madam Malkin finished up with his fitting and unpinned him, waving her wand and muttering something under her breath. She then folded them up and handed them to him, with a declaration of, "5 Galleons." Bakura fished out the money and dropped it into the witch's hand before taking the robes and heading for the door.

"Thank you." he said curtly, pausing, before walking out.

"Yatta! You were polite, Yami!" Ryou couldn't help but exclaim enthusiastically. He hoped this meant that the spirit was at least trying to learn manners.

"I was just keeping up appearances, Yadonushi." The Tomb Robber grunted.

Ryou smiled to himself. The King of Thieves ignored the smugness emanating from his host and continued down the alley. He stopped in front of a shop called Magical Menagerie.

"Yadonushi, we're getting a pet." he said.

"If you want, Spirit." was Ryou's response, for he doubted he could really stop the spirit from having his way. He was surprised however, that Dark Bakura would want a pet of all things. Bakura entered the shop and was greeted with a cacophony of squawks, hisses, shrieks, and yowls. A glittering black snake caught his eye, and he walked over to its cage, scrutinizing it. It hissed curiously at him.

"I wonder what kind of snake this is..."

Ryou shivered from inside his soul room, but kept quiet. He figured it would be alright as long as the spirit took care of it. Bakura picked up the cage and swaggered over to the shop counter.

"That's a rather rare specimen. They're very intelligent too. Five galleons and six sickles. Of course, he eats mice and other rodents like most snakes." the woman behind the counter informed him. The Thief King handed over the money and sauntered out of the store, cage in hand. As soon as they were outside, he opened the cage door and let the snake slither up his arm and around his neck. Ryou recoiled instinctively, though he wasn't actually the one in control.

"You're letting that thing around my neck?" he voiced in disbelief.

"I'll do what I want, Yadonushi. Yes, I'll have to name him..." The Tomb Robber was in a very good mood at the moment, the sort of mood usually only achieved when he was torturing people in dark games or stealing their most valued possessions. He really liked this snake. "I know; I'll name you Set." he said aloud. The snake hissed again, apparently satisfied.

Ryou could not see the reasoning behind this. It wasn't even a desert snake! Then again, it was just a name. He supposed it didn't really matter.

Bakura opened a portal into the shadow realm and chucked the empty cage in for safekeeping when he made sure no one was looking. He had decided that shopping in the magical world was fun. Plus, he'd barely made a dent in Ryou's money, and he wanted to buy something good so he'd have an excuse to steal more. A broomstick caught his eye, until Ryou reminded him that their shadow magic might interfere with the magic on the broom, and that he didn't want to go plunging to the ground from high up anytime soon.

Near the end of Diagon Alley was the entrance to a darker and dingier alleyway, labeled Knockturn Alley by a crooked wooden signpost. Bakura smirked. This was the type of place where he would be able to gather real information. He pulled the hood of his cloak (which he'd put on earlier) over his head, trying his best to conceal all the wayward strands of white that could reveal who he might be. The effect was certainly rather intimidating, with the Thief King's bloody irises glaring out from beneath the hood. If one looked closely, they could see a scaly black head poking out from above the first clasp. Set hissed, rearranging his coils into a more comfortable position before withdrawing his head.

"You look like a rare hunter manqué." Ryou couldn't resist saying, snickering from his soul room.

"Shut up or I'll put you to sleep." Bakura grumbled. "This is technically your body." he added as an afterthought. The laughing stopped abruptly. Satisfied, the Thief King stepped into the alleyway, senses on high alert for anything of import. He'd decided that walking while using the Eye wasn't the best idea, and so relied on his well honed listening abilities instead. There was certainly no lack of activity, despite the fact that the place was far less crowded than Diagon Alley. In Bakura's opinion, that just made it easier to overhear conversations.

The Tomb Robber heard hurried footsteps behind him, and a second later, a man brushed past him rudely before running off without apology. The yami narrowed his eyes before taking off quietly after the quickly retreating figure. He had tried that amateur trick enough in his earlier career that he knew he'd been robbed. And no one stole from the King of Thieves. Putting on an impossible burst of speed, he caught up with the mugger and pounced on him, planting his fist into the back of the man's skull and knocking him over. The dirty thief flipped over in an attempt to flatten the offending teen, but Bakura was well ahead of him, having already leapt off his back and gotten to his feet. Before the man could react, the Spirit of the Ring kicked him in the face, crushing his nose and causing vast amounts of blood to spurt out. The spirit reveled in the bloodshed, experiencing an insane burst of gleeful fascination as the crimson flew into the air and flecked his face. The man's hand twitched for his pocket, and Bakura realized that he was reaching for one of those wand things. He stepped on the man's hand (which caused him to scream in agony) before grabbing him by his bloody collar and slamming him into the wall of the alley with his prodigal strength, strength that Ryou's frail body wasn't supposed to have.

"Give it back." Yami no Bakura snarled, pulling out one of his knives and waving it in front of the man's face for good measure. It wasn't the best of blades, but it would do. The man whimpered before dropping a bag which landed on the ground with a clinking noise. "All of it, dimwit." The spirit knew without even looking that there had to have been much more money. Of course, he didn't really care so much about the money as he did his pride, which dictated that he wasn't allowed to lose. When the man didn't respond, Bakura grimaced and jammed the knife skillfully into his victim's side so as to inflict minimal damage and maximum pain, eliciting a delightfully tortured wail.

"Alright, alright! Just stop!" the man croaked. Bakura sneered at him distrustfully before dropping him and making to wipe of his knife. However, before he could, a forked tongue flicked out from inside his cloak and cleaned off some of the gore.

"Be careful not to cut yourself, Set." he murmured, as the tongue licked away at the knife. He received a hiss of acknowledgment in response. The man who had robbed him reached into his robes, apparently rummaging for something, before suddenly resurfacing with a wand pointed at Bakura. The Thief King could see that it was held awkwardly, due to it being in the wrong hand, but knew that it could still inflict damage.

"Reducto!" the man shouted, and a flash of light made its way towards the Tomb Robber's face. He reacted instinctively, and summoned a wall of shadows. The Millennium Ring glowed intensely as the shadow realm drank in the spell. The downside of this was that the initial surge of energy from the impact knocked his hood off. Seeing as he had already brought out the shadows, Bakura commanded them to swallow the man's stupid little stick as well. Of course, he couldn't do actual damage without instigating a dark game. The man gaped as his weapon was devoured before the offending shadows vanished entirely. His will seemed to dissipate with the loss of his wand, and he slumped even lower to the ground. With a parting sneer, Bakura dug into the man's filthy pockets, grabbed Ryou's money and left without a backwards glance. The whole fight had gone nearly unnoticed- apparently bloody disagreements were common in an alley usually populated by shady characters. Only one man seemed to have paid it any heed. Arthur Weasley stared pensively at the figure that walked away casually from the scene. He could have sworn he'd seen that white hair somewhere before, in fact, sometime that day, if he wasn't mistaken. And just where had a kid- for he was sure the mysterious winner of the brawl was no older than Harry- learned how to fight so well? The Weasley shook his head before rushing to see if the pile of dirty and now bloody rags was alright. Mundungus Fletcher was known to be a cowardly thief, and his skills were questionable. Usually, he disapparated at the slightest hint of danger. However, this time that was made impossible due to the fact that he was in contact with his tormentor the entire time(and so would have brought him along), as well as experiencing enough pain that it distracted him and made it hard to concentrate, so much that he ran the risk of splinching himself. Arthur sighed, realizing that he wasn't sure how to fix the other man. For now, he decided to take him to the headquarters of the order, which was where he was supposed to be anyways. After all, he had been charged with rounding up Fletcher and bringing him in time for the next meeting. However, once he had dropped the thief off, he returned to Knockturn Alley to learn more about the white haired kid.

Bakura's previous good mood, both at getting Set and at hurting someone, was quickly dissipating due to the pathetic complaints of his hikari over unnecessary violence. Finally, he decided that his inner child couldn't take it anymore.

"I'm sorry Yadonushi." he said simply. Ryou was stopped dead in his tracks. Had he heard wrong? The spirit had apologized? Ryou had been expecting an angry retort, a snide comment on weakness, even a blackout. But he had certainly not been expecting this.

"Alright then, what do you say to resuming the shopping trip?" Dark Bakura said, interrupting his host's spell of disbelief. He took them into the nearest shop, Borgin and Burkes.

"What is all this stuff? Cursed? Why would somebody buy a cursed object?"

"To curse someone else with, obviously. Look at this, a set of magical lock picks." Bakura was staring at said lock picks, which were hanging from a keychain.

"I think you do just fine with ordinary lock picks, but I suppose you can get them if you want." Ryou said. The Thief King shook his head, however, as it would have been a personal insult to his ability if he used magical lock picks. He maintained that it was the skill of the thief that mattered, not the quality of his tools (though tools helped). He gazed around the shop, his eyes lingering on this and that before looking out the window, straight at a red haired man who looked away guiltily.

"Figures, we were followed." Bakura self consciously pulled up his hood, which he had forgotten to put back on after it had been knocked off. That mistake had cost him.

"Why don't you go outside? He might be a good person." Ryou suggested.

"Or he wants to arrest us." the Thief King pointed out.

"You can take care of one police officer, can't you?"

"I thought you were complaining about violence just a couple of minutes ago. I will never understand you, Yadonushi." In truth, Bakura was also curious to know who had been following him, and why. So he walked out of the shop and straight towards the man, who was looking and acting more and more like a cornered mouse. The Tomb Robber took the fact that he was not being immediately pressed for charges or threatened with violence as a good sign, and decided that this was a job better suited for his hikari. The flash from the Ring as the spirit retreated was thankfully smothered under the black cloak. Ryou blinked a couple of times, disoriented, before opening his mouth.

"Who are you?" he inquired bluntly, deciding that this was a good course of action. Arthur Weasley squinted at the boy, who's glare had suddenly softened inexplicably and who's eyes he could have sworn changed to a lighter hue.

"I'm Arthur Weasley." he said simply. He had expected some sort of recognition of the name Weasley, but there was none.

"Why were you following me?" Ryou asked.

"I couldn't help but notice your fight back there..." Arthur began uncomfortably. The boy's eyes widened before his expression became curiously blank from the outside.

"Yami! Someone did see us! This is all your fault, do you have to be so impulsive!" Ryou shouted through the door that lead to his yami's soul room.

"Yadonushi, you can yell at me in person later! Get back out there before the man notices that you spaced out." The hikari sighed and did as his yami suggested, returning to his body and squirming under the Weasley man's scrutinizing gaze.

"I don't take kindly to thieves." Ryou said pointedly. His words carried a double meaning, and he could hear the spirit's insulted cry from down within the bowels of their shared mind. Of course, Arthur only caught the obvious reference and nodded.

"Why exactly are you doing in this place? It's not really suited for children." he told the boy before him '-unless they're the children of dark wizards.' he added mentally.

"Oh, I was just exploring the place." Ryou replied sheepishly, and decided to go with the story his yami had told the Draco boy, which was largely true anyways. "I've been in Japan for a long time, and I just arrived back in England yesterday." Arthur Weasley seemed to find this an acceptable answer. However, he had something new on his mind.

"Japan? You've been missing out horribly on your magical education! We have to get you enrolled in Hogwarts right now. You must have never gotten your letter because you weren't a resident of Britain at the time!" he muttered, obviously flustered.

"Yes or no, yami?"

"I thought you didn't like thieves? So why are you asking my opinion?"

"You know I didn't mean it, yami, and I'm sorry. Now yes or no?"

"Yes, but don't say so. We don't know if he's trustworthy, and you shouldn't just acquiesce to his demands." Truthfully, Yami no Bakura's interest was piqued. A magical school... the concept of it was most intriguing.

"Oh no, I'm just fine! I don't want to cause you any trouble..." Ryou responded, trailing off.

"Oh, it won't be any trouble! You'll have to have a talk with Dumbledore and-" Arthur suddenly stopped, realizing that he would have to take the boy to the order headquarters if he was to help him. Then he slapped himself mentally for forgetting that he could just leave him at the Leaky Cauldron until Dumbledore was available.

"Yes?" Ryou prompted impatiently.

"You fool, you're going about it all wrong. You're acting like you want to go, but don't want impose. That's not the point you're supposed to get across." the Spirit of the Ring chastised.

"If you're so good at it, why don't you do it?" Ryou snapped. The spirit did just that, snatching up control.

"Could you stay at the Leaky Cauldron for now? My family's a little bit tight on space at the moment." Mr. Weasley said. It wasn't exactly a lie, but it wasn't true either. Arthur decided that he'd have to make do. "Oh and I didn't catch your name."

"I'm Ryou Bakura, but everyone just calls me Bakura. I'm fine without this school of yours. I've been fine without it for my whole life. And I have my own bloody house." Bakura informed him. Arthur looked a tad dismayed and surprised at the information, as well as the polite boy's sudden change in demeanor.

"The headmaster will also have to talk with your parents concerning-"

"My mother is dead and my father's away on some sort of expedition." the spirit snarled bluntly. Mr. Weasley shifted uncomfortably.

"Er, then could you give me your address? Like I said, the headmaster will have to speak to you."

"What's the address, Yadonushi? I never paid attention." Ryou decided that the spirit wasn't really doing much better than he had been. He pushed back to the front and into control, forcing the grumbling spirit out of the way.

"Number 7 Privet Drive." Ryou informed the man. Arthur remembered that Harry lived somewhere on Privet Drive, which was in a muggle area, and was mildly surprised that this boy had a house on the same street. However, he didn't let his momentary reaction show and merely wrote the address down.

"Thank you. I have a meeting to go to now, and I probably shouldn't be late. But I'll tell Dumbledore about this, and he'll probably contact you." and with that, Arthur Weasley disappeared with a crack.

"That was certainly very tactful." Yami no Bakura sneered sarcastically. "It just worked so well. Now he'll be afraid to even come near us!"

"I don't think we could've refused him anyways. When the time comes, we'll deal with this Dumbledore person. We should go home now, its' getting dark."

"Dark means this place is probably going to be much more dangerous. Let me take over." They were switching places so often, it was making him dizzy. However, Ryou did as his yami suggested and relinquished control. Bakura stepped quietly and carefully, like a shadow. He made it out of Knockturn Alley without anymore trouble, pushed down the still crowded Diagon Alley, and finally passed through the Leaky Cauldron and back into the muggle part of London. He managed to hail a cab relatively quickly and made it back to Ryou's house as the last rays of sunlight disappeared over the distant horizon. The Tomb Robber again picked his yadonushi's lock without bothering to look for a key and trudged inside, slamming the door behind him.

xxxxxx

The next couple of days passed largely uneventfully, as Ryou opted not to return to wizarding London and instead visited all the places he'd forgotten about during his stay in Japan. On the third evening, as he was going for a stroll, Bakura suddenly seized control of his body and began running down Wisteria Walk, back the way they had come.

"Yami, what gives?" Ryou asked, both miffed and worried at the actions of his dark.

"The thief who stole your money last time. I'm positive." the Thief King replied tersely.

"So why are you going after him? He hasn't stolen anything of ours."

"I want to know what he's doing here!" The Spirit snapped, irritated at his host's excessive questioning. However, he didn't get to find out, because there was a loud crack as they rounded the corner to Privet Drive, and Bakura knew that his quarry had just done a disappearing act, which he had learned that wizards tended to do quite often. He cursed before giving his host the body back and returning to his soul room. Ryou sighed and returned to his walk, heading for the play park on Magnolia Road. Once he reached the place, he vaulted the fence, climbed one of the trees, and sat idly, surveying the decidedly quotidian view.

"I don't feel queasy anymore." Bakura said in his mind.

"What do you mean? Since when have you been feeling queasy?" Ryou demanded.

"I told you before, the wizard magic was making my connection to the shadow realm protest, and I've been feeling that way everywhere, which probably means that this place is riddled with wizards and witches. But now I suddenly don't feel sick anymore." the Spirit of the Ring explained.

"Maybe you're just getting used to it." Ryou spotted someone coming towards the park. He was about to get off the tree to great them when a sudden wave of nausea washed over him, nearly causing him to fall out of his perch.

"The feeling's back again." Bakura commented dryly.

"I'd noticed." Ryou winced, clutching his stomach. If even he, with his abysmally lame shadow magic, could feel the pain, then he pitied the Spirit of the Ring, who was probably hundreds of times more powerful than he.

"There's no doubt. That boy's a wizard, and he looks mad. I think it's making his magic flare." the spirit hissed.

"Yami, will you be alright?"

"I'll be fine. It's a lot worse if you have a body."

Ryou was about to go into his soul room to make sure the spirit was alright (he wasn't exactly sure why he cared), but that was before he caught sight of a group of boys on bikes. He recognized their leader, who lived across the street from him and was notorious for his bullying ways. They were crossing the park, no doubt on their way home, and Ryou had to give Bakura a mental kick to stop him from taking over and showing them up. He reminded the spirit that they were still suffering from the magic induced nausea, and that it wouldn't be a good idea to get into a fight just now.

"What about if they go attack that kid down there?" the spirit asked, still trying to get his host's permission to beat someone up.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. As it is, they haven't seen him. So you'd better repress those violent urges."

The gang traversed the park without noticing the lone boy on the swing. Said boy stood up once they had gone a distance away and followed after them. The gang split up at the entrance to Magnolia Crescent, just as the boy reached the lone gang leader.

"Hey, Big D!" he shouted. Ryou could hear his voice even from the park, due to the fact that the night was utterly silent. Although he had chided his yami for trying to use the boy as an excuse, he did want to make sure that he wasn't hurt. So Ryou climbed down from the tree and ran towards Magnolia Crescent. He followed stealthily behind the two, who appeared to be exchanging mild insults. He was glad that they were heading for Wisteria Walk, meaning that he wasn't going anywhere he shouldn't.

The two boys seemed to become more hostile as they walked, which was no surprise, really. Trading insults tended to do that. Suddenly, the smaller boy pulled out a seemingly innocuous stick.

"Yep, he's a wizard alright. And he's getting riled up. You better get ready to feel sick." the spirit warned. Ryou braced himself as the feeling his yami had predicted washed over him once more. The boys were now having a shouting match, and the wizard was waving his wand around dangerously. Just as Ryou thought he couldn't feel any worse, a terrible, tangible cold settled over the area. The night became black, a mass of unrelenting darkness, as if the very stars had been shut off. He curled up in a ball, vaguely registering the other two boys in the alleyway. The gang leader, who was called Dudley, was panicking, while the wizard apparently knew what was happening and did not like it. And then-

"DUDLEY, COME BACK! YOU'RE RUNNING RIGHT AT IT! DUDLEY, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT! WHATEVER OU DO, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT!"

Ryou had no idea what was going on, but he knew that it was bad. Along with the atrocious sensation of being dunked in icy water, came a torrent of the worst memories of his life. Being who he was, unfortunately, he had plenty of those. He shivered in silent horror as the phone call, terribly real, came to tell him that his mother and sister were dead. He felt again the bewilderment and horrible guilt as time and again he woke up to see his friends in irreversible comas, their souls trapped in grotesque dolls. His chest ached as the memories of the when the Ring had buried itself into his flesh resurfaced, and he cringed at the remembrance of that fateful game of Monster World. He was reliving the terrible pain in his hand, the only conscious part of him at the time, as it was jammed through that sharp, pointy tower. He felt the agony as he desperately sealed his soul into a pair of dice, and in the process of destroying them to save his friends, destroyed himself. To the forefront of his mind came the desolate half life he had lived as the White Wizard Monster World figurine, and the feeling as his soul drained from that lead playing piece back into his weakened body to resurrect him. And the list went on and on, and Ryou rocked back and forth, whimpering pitifully.

Bakura was panicked, frustrated, and completely bewildered as he was cut off from his host, who he knew was experiencing mental agony. He could not take over, and he could not see what was going on in the outside world. For the first time in years, the Spirit of the Ring felt utterly helpless, either to help himself or his yadonushi, whose continued existence was paramount if the body was to remain functional.

Harry Potter was desperately trying to cast his patronus, which was his last chance at getting out of this place with his soul intact. His first two tries yielded only nebulous mist, and he was nearly lost in the flood of his own worst memories, when the thought of his best friends brought him to the surface and a brilliant iridescent stag shot out of his wand tip, driving off the dementors. He directed it towards Dudley, who was on the verge of being kissed, and managed to knock the creature off just in time. As the last dementor was chased off, the stars came back into view, and the street lamps flickered back to life.

Bakura burst through the connection, like water through a broken dam, and stumbled in confusion as he gained control. Unfortunately, this caused him to step into the light, revealing his presence to the two teens. Dudley was in no shape to care, as he was still curled up on the ground, eyes wide with horror. But Harry raised his wand and pointed it at the albino. There was clanking from around the corner, and hurried footsteps.

Their neighbor from Wisteria Walk, Mrs. Figg, came around the corner, looking flustered and swinging her handbag, which was probably full of cat food, judging by the sound it made. Harry's first impulse was to stow his wand.

"Don't put it away, idiot boy! What if there are more of them around! Oh, I'm going to kill Mundungus Fletcher..." she stopped when she caught sight of Bakura. "Oh yes you, Dumbledore wanted me to keep an eye on you too, said something about a new student?"

"You know about Dumbledore?" Harry blurted out.

"Why of course I do? Everyone who's anyone knows about Dumbledore!" Mrs. Figg replied.

"You're a witch?"

"Oh no, I'm a squib."

"I'm cold, tired, and this Ra damned body feels like it's been through hell and back. Could someone please explain what the bloody hell is going on?" Bakura demanded. Harry and Mrs. Figg turned to look at him, but didn't say anything. "Bloody wizards and their bloody magic are getting on my bloody damned nerves! I want to know what you bloody blooming maniacs did to my host right now!" The Spirit of the Ring realized that he had mentioned his host, and could only hope that no one had noticed. Fortunately, they were all staring at him in confusion at the moment.

"Well, I'm a wizard, and-"

"I bloody well know you're a wizard! I've been feeling sick for the past week from all this bloody magical disturbance, and it's you who's been causing it!" Bakura shrieked.

"Er... those were dementors, and they suck all the hope and happiness out of you, making you relive your worst memories." Harry explained, wisely getting to the point. The Thief King paled at this. Ryou had a truckload of bad memories, and quite a few of those were his fault. He shifted guiltily. "-Also, if they kiss you, they will suck out your soul."

"We've both lost our souls bloody well enough times to not need it again!" Bakura muttered under his breath. He was too out of it to bother caring that he was saying this out loud. Mrs. Figg was busy fussing over him and Dudley, and so didn't hear. However, Harry's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Was he hearing things? 'Did that boy say we? They had lost their souls enough times? Who were they, and how had they lost their souls multiple times?' he wondered.

He was startled out of his thoughts when the albino boy walked over to a blubbering Dudley, waved Mrs. Figg away, and hefted the large boy seemingly effortlessly into a standing position, with his arm draped over his shoulder.

"Are you two bloody magicians going to come or not?" he snarled, walking away at an alarmingly fast pace for someone who was lugging a few hundred pounds of dead weight. Harry and Mrs. Figg followed after. Harry was questioning his squib neighbor, demanding to know why he was being followed and why Mrs. Figg never revealed her status to him.

When they reached Number 4, Privet Drive, the albino punched the doorbell impatiently. The door was thrown open and at the sight of her Diddykins, Petunia began wailing and fussing over him while Bakura sneered in disgust. Vernon Dursley rounded on the Thief King.

"What did you do to my son?" he demanded, before catching sight of Harry behind the other boy. "YOU! You were involved, weren't you?"

"I didn't bloody do anything. Your son's just too weak to stand up to some mental pain. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd say that my day was damn well worse than his, and I'll be going to bed now." With that, the Spirit of the Ring strode off, pointedly ignoring the fuming, purple faced man in the doorway. He crossed the street and jammed his lock pick into the keyhole, twirling it around until there was a satisfying click and the door swung open. He entered his yadonushi's house and slammed the door, shutting out his rude neighbor's tirade. As soon as he locked the door, he slumped to the floor, falling back into his soul room and throwing open the heavy door. His hikari's neat blue door was closed, but not locked, and Bakura pushed it open and walked tentatively inside. Ryou was curled up in a corner, rocking back and forth. The spirit snarled in anger at the damage the dementors had done. The shadows of his host's room, which had previously licked at the corners, had now made it halfway across the room. The Thief King ran towards his light and knocked him over, hugging him fiercely in a very un-Bakura like way. Ryou sniffed.

"It was horrible, Yami." Bakura held Ryou tighter.

"I know, Ryou, I know. I'm here for you. All that stuff's behind us." Ryou hugged his yami back, savoring the comforting embrace. His dark had truly changed. He was there for his light, when before he distanced himself. He was protecting him like he was supposed to, and most of all he cared. He cared, and that was all Ryou needed. Never mind what he had done, that was in the past. It was what his yami was now that mattered. The shadows in his soul room receded, slowly but surely, and finally returned to wallow in the corners.

"Thank you Yami." Ryou stood up. His face was still tear stained, but there was a look of determination in his eyes, a healthy spark. And Bakura knew that his hikari was truly alright.

xxxxxx

The next evening, the Dursleys, sans Harry, went out. A bunch of people on broomsticks arrived in front of Number 4, Privet Drive shortly afterwards. Bakura was spying on them through the window, in spirit form.

"It looks like the wizard's got a ride. I think we should follow them." he said to Ryou, who was sifting through his duel deck.

"They're on brooms. How are we going to follow them?"

"The Ring. Shadow Magic." The spirit did not elaborate, but Ryou understood.

"Fine, let me pack some stuff." Ryou shoved his deck into his pocket and ran around the house, collecting clothes and Yami no Bakura's knives. He dumped these haphazardly into a backpack before rushing off to the kitchen to throw together some sandwiches- peanut butter and jelly for himself, and meat for the spirit. Although they shared the same body, they did not share the same tastes, and he did not want to offend his dark by packing only for himself. Ryou neatly sealed the sandwiches into zipping plastic bags before dropping them into the pack.

"Done!" he said aloud.

"Perfect timing, they're leaving just now." The spirit vanished into the Ring before taking over Ryou's body. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a card without looking. "Diabound Colonel, arise!" he said, and sure enough, his ka monster appeared before him. Bakura hopped onto Diabound's back and the monster phased out of the door, stealthily blending in with the night in the process.

"Ring, find Harry Potter." the Thief King commanded. The Ring lit up and pointed south and upwards. Diabound launched into the air, following the tacit directions of his master. The ring's pointers wiggled around every once in awhile, signaling a change of course. The Tomb Robber had to commend these wizards- they would be hard to follow if one was simply flying after them. Of course, Bakura had the obvious tracking advantage of the Ring, which could find them no matter where they were. The air around them was frigid, and it was a little difficult to breathe. Fortunately, they had not passed through any clouds. Even Dark Bakura, with his high tolerance for discomfort, did not relish the thought of being soaked at this speed and altitude.

Presently, the Millennium Ring's tines moved again, sloping downwards. The spirit's quarry was getting ready to land. Diabound headed for the ground, lighting down at the outskirts of a shabby town before vanishing. The Spirit of the Ring was stiff and cold, but he continued on, following the Ring's directions on foot, winding his way through countless dingy alleyways(and thawing out in the process) before emerging at the end of Grimmauld Place. He felt a wave of sickness wash over him. There was definitely wizard magic around. Presently, the Ring pointed down the lane, leading its master to the middle of the street and swerving to point at the place in between number eleven and number thirteen. Apparently, there was no number twelve. The Thief King walked through the gap, but as he emerged on the other side, the Ring immediately swerved to point in the direction he had just come from.

"Is it malfunctioning or something?" Ryou inquired.

"It's a Millennium Item. Millennium Item's don't malfunction. Harry Potter is somewhere in between eleven and thirteen Grimmauld Place. In fact, don't you think it's odd that the numbering skips number twelve? In fact, I seriously doubt that such a mistake was made. I think number twelve Grimmauld Place is simply hidden." Yami no Bakura snarled. "And I think that's where these wizards are camping out."

"Well if it's hidden, how do we get in?"

"I have no idea whatsoever." the spirit said bluntly.

"You're a thief, aren't you?" Ryou questioned pointedly.

"Yes, yes, give me a minute, Ryou." Bakura walked back out of the gap and glanced back and forth between numbers eleven and thirteen, contemplating. This was unlike anything he'd ever faced before, and he'd faced quite a few puzzling traps and tricks in his tomb robbing career. How could he break into something that wasn't there? 'No, it's there. I just can't see it. Or touch it. And it doesn't seem to take up space...' This thought gave him only slightly more confidence as he set about scrutinizing the area. His first task would have to be getting the place to show itself. But he didn't even know what was causing it to be there but not there! He didn't know if the enchantment was cast on the house itself, on a controlling person, or both.

It was frustrating, to say the least. He had followed the wizards all the way here, yet now he was stuck glaring at a gap where something was supposed to be. He couldn't be sure what kind of spell was on the house, but he knew it was a complicated one. In fact, he suspected that only those who had been invited in could see and enter the place. There was still one glitch in that theory- or perhaps it was his way in. The area between numbers eleven and thirteen was barely spacious enough for a trash can, much less another house. That meant the actual house had been moved, and probably wasn't even there. It was only the entrance that lay in Grimmauld Place. But if it was the entrance, then the house would have to appear for the people who could enter. And if it had to do that, then other people, at least magical people, should be able to see it as well.

Still, Bakura was growing impatient. It would not do to wait for someone to show up and go in to test his theory. No, that wouldn't be prudent at all! And if it didn't work, he would be back to square one. He growled, almost at his wits' end. Perhaps he had been wrong... maybe there wasn't a Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place after all.

xxxxxx

**EDIT**

10/3/09- Problems with italics were fixed. Awkward wordings also patched up.