I had a great month-long saga with AT&T trying to get internet installed in my new place, but I prevailed in the end! Here's a new chapter for celebration. I did a lot more PoV switching in this one than normal, sorry about that. Also, there was a question about Bill having retired from Gringott's. I don't know if he did or not; I'd have to go back and reread the seventh book. I'm inclined to say that he didn't though, or that it was a temporary thing. The man's gotta have a job to support his family after all. Plus, it works well in my fanfic. :) At any rate, please enjoy and leave a review. I still love you all.

Chapter 6

The demon was watching again. Ryou sensed his silent, mocking laughter. It loved to take a dip into this hell, to bathe in the turmoil of his mind. That was fine. Ryou let his mind stay in turmoil until the smirking presence faded. Once it was gone, he took a firmer grip on his emotions. He couldn't banish the memories that constantly replayed around him—this was still his prison after all. However, they no longer affected him quite as strongly as they had at first. They still hurt, hurt worse and deeper than he would have thought possible, but they no longer divided him.

Ryou had decided that he wanted to get rid of Zorc. To do that, he first had to put himself back together. It was no easy task. He had been who he once was for much longer, but he was more familiar and comfortable with who he was now.

Wasn't he?

Ryou wasn't so sure anymore. The longer he was stuck here, seeing these old memories, feeling the rage and pain of the Egyptian thief, the more it felt…normal.

That scared him.

He didn't let that fear deter him. It was that other side of him that felt it. And in the end, both sides were really…him. He was afraid of nothing more than himself. This was the first roadblock he had to hurdle, and he did.

He just accepted it.

He was a ruthless, revenge-bent thief who had watched his whole family—his whole village—butchered by the Pharaoh's soldiers. He accepted it. He was a teenager who had been plagued by a strange spirit from the time he was little, who now wanted nothing more than friendship. He accepted it. The spirit was his own fault, and it had put his precious friends in danger more times than he could count. He accepted it.

It was his responsibility to banish Zorc to where he belonged. He accepted it.

The turmoil died. In its place, rage remained. The rage of the thief. The rage of Ryou Bakura. This time, however, it wasn't directed at the Pharaoh. He directed all his fury at the demon that held him prisoner.

Zorc will pay. For everything.

The walls of his prison began to weaken.

Bakura crouched outside the wall around the opulent grounds that had become the Tomb Keepers' residence after leaving their lightless crypts. He would have preferred to wait until dark, but he was impatient. After waiting for so long, with the Pharaoh at last gone to the underworld where he could no longer interfere, his goal was within reach. All he needed were the Items and the underworld tablet. No more tricks, no more games. No more planning or scheming or watching his back. There was nothing standing between him and the world except a wall, a few guards, and Malik.

He was not the least bit worried about the wall, or any other security measures that might be in place. Humans had always overrated their ability to protect themselves, and having more advanced technology made little difference. A bit of shadow magic trumped it all. Then same went for the guards: it was simplicity itself to sneak around them. He would rather not kill them because bodies might be discovered too soon, raising an alarm, but he would if he had to.

Malik was another matter. He would have to be careful about Malik. The young Egyptian had command of the Millennium Rod, and he had a decent amount of power. Coupled with his post-Battle City allegiance to the Pharaoh, he would present a real problem if he discovered Bakura and realized that he wasn't really Bakura.

Of course, if he found the Millennium Items, then it wouldn't matter if Malik fought him or not. Bakura would have the upper hand. He smiled to himself as the guards made another rhythmic sweep of the grounds. The pattern was too easy; he would be able to evade them without a problem. He had already checked on Ryou; he was still locked safely away in agony in his soul room. How that thief had become such a weakling boy was beyond him.

The guards reached the edge of the wall and passed around a corner. Bakura jumped up to the top of the wall and dropped silently on the other side.

Bill was at the Egyptian Ministry at five in the afternoon as he promised. That was disconcerting to Harry, who had just woken up early in the morning in Japan ten minutes ago. If Kingsley felt any effects from the time shift, he didn't show it.

"Sleep well?" Bill asked them with a grin, shaking hands with each in turn.

"Yeah," Harry replied. "Er, dig well?"

Bill laughed. "Exceptionally. We might be able to finish early and go back to England for a while. That sure would make Fleur happy."

"She's doing well, then?" Kingsley asked.

"Better than well." Bill's grin somehow widened. "She's pregnant."

Harry felt a thrill of joy at the news. "Really? That's great, Bill!"

"Yeah, I know. It's another reason to get through here, too. Neither of us wants the baby to be born in Egypt. But we can talk about this later; you've still got a murderer to catch."

"Right," Harry said as Bill started leading them through the Ministry. Like the one in Tokyo, the Egyptian Ministry of Magic was aboveground, this time in a nondescript building that was surrounded by a chain link fence covered with signs proclaiming it condemned in Arabic, English, and a few other languages Harry didn't recognize. No one seemed to notice when Bill led them outside and through a gate to slip into the crowd. It was brutally hot.

"I contacted the Tomb Keepers just before you arrived, and Ishizu agreed to an audience," Bill told them as he tried to wave down a taxi. "Unfortunately, they're Muggles, and they live quite a way out of town, so we have to get there the conventional Muggle way. Still, getting to meet any of the Tomb Keepers on good terms is a rare thing. I don't see how you get so lucky, Harry."

Harry thought that he wasn't always so lucky; in the past he had had Dumbledore to thank for most of his so-called "luck" (and at one point Felix Felicis). This time was an exception, but he didn't say so to Bill. He had finally succeeded in getting them a taxi and was waving Harry and Kingsley in.

"Maybe your luck will lead us right to Ryou Bakura," Kingsley commented as Bill gave directions to the driver.

"It has been. And always three steps behind," Harry replied gloomily.

The inside of the mansion was as quiet as a tomb. Bakura wondered why anyone would need so much space to live in. Even with servants, the Ishtars' residence was large enough that most parts were utterly empty most of the time. Many rooms didn't even seem to have a purpose. Bakura decided that he would have a place at least as big as this, but filled with people. Screaming, crying people.

He was also now past the electronic security measures, so he had abandoned most of his sneaking. He simply strode the halls now, every once in a while ducking into a hiding place as a servant walked by. So far he hadn't seen any of the Ishtars. That was fine by him.

Neither had he found any trace of the Millennium Items. That irked him. Had Malik been enough of a fool to leave them buried after all? He didn't want to think he had given a human more credit than he deserved.

He found a staircase and ran up it. The hall at the top was more spartan in décor than was the ground floor, but he also saw that there were a few ancient artifacts on display. Opening the door to the nearest room, he looked inside and grinned. He was on the right track; the room was filled with artifacts. The Millennium Items, if they were here, would most likely be somewhere in this section of the mansion. It was all too easy.

Bakura sensed no more security measures, so he strolled through the room, taking his time as he studied the jars, jewelry, and other things that were stored here. On the walls were massive blocks of stone that had been taken from the walls of the Tomb Keepers' ancestral home. Bakura slowed down to read some of them.

Most detailed the history of the Egyptian shadow games, starting with a time long before Atem's father ordered the creation of the Millennium Items. It was a much weaker magic then, unable to draw power from the magic of the underworld. That changed quickly when Aknadin found the book of dark alchemy and used its secrets to make the Items. Bakura smirked when he got to a hanging that showed the great battle between the Pharaoh and his priests and the invaders that plagued them. It was the first real use of the Millennium Items, and through the Ring he had witnessed every glorious, bloody minute. Even back then, from the moment of its creation, the Millennium Ring had belonged to him.

However, it wasn't here. Bakura reached the end of the room and turned back to the door. As he reached it, he heard footsteps in the hall outside. He closed the door as quickly and silently as possible, and then he waited beside it. Outside, the footsteps came closer, and then passed by. Bakura waited a few more minutes to make sure whoever it was didn't come back, and then he reopened the door a crack and peered out.

The hall was empty again, so he slipped out and continued over to the next door. In that room, he struck gold.

There, in a glass case against the far wall, were the Millennium Items. All seven of them.

Other relics lined the walls of the room as well, but Bakura cared nothing for them. He didn't even register their existence. His eyes remained fixed on the precious Items as he walked slowly toward them. Malik had dug them up after all, and apparently thought they were safe here, in this house, in a glass case without even an alarm. He should have known that the guards and the walls would be no match for someone who truly wanted power such as this.

He lifted his fist and brought it crashing down on the top of the case, not caring how the glass bit into his host's skin as it shattered. Blood dripped down, the bright red contrasting against the gold, and he thought it was lovely. He held the hand there for a few moments, and then he dug the annoying splinters out. He would have to remember to wrap it soon; it would do no good if his host bled to death.

With trembling fingers he reached out for the Ring, anticipating its smooth cool metal against his chest, the feel of its dark power coursing through him, amplifying and adding to the power he already possessed. Soon he would have so much more…

He frowned as he picked the Ring up. Its power was muted. In fact, it almost wasn't really there. Bakura could work with it, for sure, and it would add to what he could already do, but for all intents and purposes, the Millennium Ring had lost its dark seething energy.

Bakura didn't drop it, but he reached out with his other hand and picked up the rest of the Items in turn, leaving bloody handprints smeared on them all. They felt the same as the Ring: the power was there, but the intensity was not. He doubted that normal humans like Malik or Ishizu would realize there was anything left in them at all. What could be the cause of this?

Putting the Ring around his neck, Bakura finally looked over the rest of the room. The underworld tablet wasn't here, and he felt that it wouldn't be anywhere else in the mansion, either. It would have taken more of an effort to move, and there wasn't much point since it only functioned properly with the Millennium Items, so Malik must have elected to leave it behind. Bakura had to find it. Perhaps there he would get the answer to this new mystery.

He turned and took two steps toward the door before he froze in place. A shadow moved in the hall outside, and then Malik stepped into the room, also freezing. His eyes went wide, and the two stared at each other for many seconds before he spoke. "Bakura-kun?"

In that instant, Ryou struck.

It was a sudden thing, a split second of weakness. The demon was shocked (or stunned or something close, Ryou wasn't quite sure), and the iron walls of his prison weakened ever so slightly. Not long ago, it wouldn't have mattered; it would have still been more than enough to keep the teen in his place. Now, however, was a different story.

Now, Ryou had a reserve of rage that enabled him to burst through those walls in that split second of weakness. It wasn't easy, and for an instant he thought it wouldn't be possible, but then he broke through. Suddenly, just like that, he was in control of himself, and the demon was the one locked behind prison walls.

Ryou blinked. He was in a place he didn't recognize, but he knew all too well the person standing in front of him. Malik looked shocked, but he also looked tense, as if he were just waiting for the right trigger to fight. Around them were piles of ancient Egyptian artifacts. Around his neck was an all-too-familiar weight. In his hand sharp pain throbbed. It seemed that the demon's habits had changed not at all.

He gasped and put a hand to his head. The demon was already fighting back. Ryou knew he didn't have much time to spare.

"Yugi called me," Malik said in a wary tone. "He said you might show up here. I don't really believe that Zorc could be back, but I don't like the way you managed to slip this far past our defenses."

Ryou was glad that Malik had skipped past all formalities and hedging. It would have wasted the precious little time he had. "He is back," he told Malik. The Ring around his neck trembled as another lance of pain stabbed through his head. Ryou groaned through gritted teeth and fought back. You're not going to use me again. I won't let you.

He thought he could hear laughter in return.

Malik took a hesitant step forward. "Are you okay?"

Ryou backed up to keep the distance between them and held out a hand. "He is back," he said again. "And I can't hold him back for long. Malik, you have to help me. He…he wants…" He doubled over against the rise of pain in his head. "Malik, tell me the underworld tablet isn't here!"

"It doesn't matter where it's at." Malik folded his arms with an expression on his face that was caught somewhere between gloating and concern. "The tablet's broken. It can't open the door to the underworld anymore. Since the magic of the Millennium Items was tied to it, they've also lost their power." He leaned forward slightly. "So if you can hear me right now, Zorc, however you've managed to come back, it's for nothing. You can't get the power you want."

Ryou felt such absolute glee, the joy of a thief king seeing his enemy thwarted, that he managed to push Zorc back into his mind a little more. The pain lessened, and he straightened with a surprised chuckle. "I don't think he can hear you," he said in wonder. "I think I'm keeping him completely trapped, like he always keeps me."

Malik began to grin, but it faded quickly as suspicion began to bloom. "You are really you, aren't you?" he asked.

"Of course I'm me," Ryou said with another laugh.

Malik said nothing else. Alarm crossed his face, and he began to back up. Ryou felt confused, and then he realized that he wasn't acting quite normal. Malik thought he was actually Zorc because he wasn't acting quite like himself. He faltered then, the shy teenager surfacing in a moment of self-doubt.

It was enough for Zorc to seize control once again.

Malik backed up again as Ryou shrieked and clawed at his head, his hair getting streaked with red from the blood on his hand. He felt more powerless than he had been since the death of his father. At first, when Yugi had called him and told him about the visit from the supposed wizards, he had been dubious about the entire story. Maybe some kid from England had just wanted revenge on Ryou for what the Ring's spirit had done. Maybe Ryou had run away, or that kid had done something to him. He didn't really believe it was possible for Zorc to be back, and neither did he believe anything those 'wizard' people had to say.

But now Ryou was here, and he was acting strange to say the least. He wasn't acting like the Ryou he remembered at all. He never laughed in a bad situation. He had no tolerance of pain; he wouldn't be ignoring his wounded hand like this. And he never, ever had the strength to wrest control of his own body from the spirit.

Malik was almost sure that this was, in fact, Zorc.

But why would Zorc tell him—tell anyone—that he was back?

That alone gave him pause and made him wonder if it really was Ryou standing in front of him, screaming in pain. He stepped forward and raised a hand before hesitating. What could he possibly do to help? Without the Millennium Rod, he was powerless.

Ryou abruptly went silent. He straightened, and then he grinned at Malik with a manic gleam in his eye that the Egyptian knew too well.

"You should have listened to my landlord," he said.

There was no doubt now. Malik knew what stood in front of him. He had once shared Ryou's body with that spirit, and he knew how cruel and ruthless it could be.

He also knew that if the spirit still possessed magic, he was screwed.

He lunged for the doorway, eager to get out and at least draw Bakura away from the rest of the Millennium Items. Behind him, the spirit let out a peal of bone-chilling laughter as he took up the chase. The sound of it made the hairs on his arms and neck stand on end. It was as if Bakura was just toying with him, having a little fun before he got down to business. Malik didn't want to stick around and find out what that business was. He sprinted down the hall at top speed until one wall ended at a balcony. There was a grand staircase leading into the main foyer here, and Malik spun to run down it so fast that he nearly flew into open air.

He could see Ishizu and Rishid at the bottom, greeting some guests who were just walking in. Behind him, he could feel the chill threads of air that heralded the arrival of shadow magic.

"No!" he yelled, stumbling down the steps. "Ishizu, don't let anyone in!"

The taxi ride was uneventful, though Kingsley didn't look the least bit comfortable in it. Harry would have found that funny if he wasn't so worried about getting the Tomb Keepers to believe and help him. Bill seemed to think it was a long shot at best, but he also said that Ishizu Ishtar was a level-headed woman who would at least listen to them. "Be glad we're not talking to her little brother," he had said on the drive to their mansion. "I've heard stories about him."

Harry wanted to ask what kind of stories, but he was distracted by the view of the pyramids as the taxi drove out of Cairo. Now, as they stepped out of the car in front of a large, beautiful mansion surrounded by guards, he hoped that this little brother wasn't around. Convincing Ishizu that she might have a body-snatching murderer hanging around would be hard enough.

"Don't look so nervous," Bill said as they ascended the steps to the main doors. "I've talked to Ishizu before. She doesn't bite."

"Maybe you shouldn't be nervous," Harry replied. He had noticed how antsy Bill seemed the whole ride over.

Bill grinned. "I can't help it. It's a rare treat just to talk to one of the Tomb Keepers. No one's ever come to their house before that I know of. I bet they have lots of stuff in here."

"Lots of magical artifacts?" Kingsley queried with a raised eyebrow. The Egyptian Ministry would know it if they did, wouldn't they?"

"Not necessarily." Bill was about to say more, but then they reached the top of the steps and the doors opened. A man and woman, both dressed in the traditional garb of the desert, waited for them just inside.

The woman looked them all over with cool blue eyes. "I am Ishizu Ishtar," she announced. "Welcome to my home."

"It's an honor, Miss Ishtar," Bill told her.

Ishizu gave him the briefest of smiles as she backed up enough to let them step in. "The honor is mine, Mr. Weasley. This is my elder brother, Rishid."

Bill nodded a greeting to the tall, stern-looking man behind her. "My friends, Harry Potter and Kingsley Shacklebolt."

"Welcome," she said to them, bowing her head. "Mr. Weasley has told me that you wish to know about the Millennium Items." Her cool eyes studied them both in turn. "I look forward to hearing how you came to know of them."

If this was meeting the Tomb Keeper clan on good terms, Harry thought he would hate to see their bad side. Ishizu didn't look the least bit happy that knowledge of the Millennium Items had reached these people whom she didn't know. "It's a long story," he replied. "However, I want you to know that we have no intention of—"

Just then, a boy about his age flew down the stairs so fast that Harry was sure he would simply tumble head over feet at any second. He screamed something in Arabic that made Ishizu turn his way with a severe frown, but Harry didn't get a chance to ask what he said. His attention was riveted on the white-haired boy that skidded around the corner and down the stairs just after him.

The boy exuded an aura of Dark Magic so powerful it made Harry's scalp prickle from clear across the room. He didn't think he had felt anything like it before, even around Voldemort.

He pulled out his wand as the first boy (Ishizu's notorious brother, he assumed) made it down the stairs without injury and rushed toward them with his hands outstretched. Beside him, Bill and Kingsley were doing the same. Harry didn't see any wand in the white-haired boy's hand, but his eyes fell on the golden pendant around the boy's neck. On impulse, he pointed his wand at it and yelled, "Accio!"

The boy skidded to a stop in the middle of the room, a look of surprise on his face as the pendant's cord snapped and it flew to Harry's waiting hand. Kingsley and Bill took the opportunity to spin a web of blueish light around him, trapping him in the middle. Ishizu's brother barely made it out of the way as he scrambled for the others. Together, the Ishtars backed up and watched with wide eyes as the wizards went about their work.

As for the white-haired boy, he straightened up and watched with a curious look on his face as Bill and Kingsley finished caging him in. The Dark Magic aura around him had faded somewhat, but Harry could still feel it, especially when the boy turned his dark eyes toward him and the relic he held. Harry pointed his wand at his chest, ready to counter anything he might throw at his cage or at them.

The boy's mouth uplifted in a small sneer.

And then he simply vanished.