The Thief King of Ancient Egypt was a tanned man, tall, strong, with slate-grey eyes and hair bleached by the sun so thoroughly that it appeared almost white. His soul was trapped in the Millennium Ring.

Harry Potter of Godric's Hollow was a small baby, cheerful, active, with bright green eyes and hair that was blacker than the tar that covered the roads. On his first birthday, his godfather Sirius Black gave him the Millennium Ring, believing it to be an ancient protective talisman that would keep the child safe from the the ever-present threat that was Voldemort.

He was sort of right.

When Voldemort came, killing James and then Lily, before turning his wand to the toddler in his cot, the Thief King had been hanging around for three months already, and had grown somewhat attached to young Harry. In more ways than one.

Now, the thing you must know about the Killing Curse is that, to perform it correctly, the caster must feel nothing in regards to the 'victim' of said curse. It was created for the purpose of killing livestock, and prevented those who couldn't stand killing animals from having to do so, as well as removing those who felt sick pleasure at the task. The thing which needs to be understood about Voldemort is this: while he was rather peeved with James Potter for having evaded death at his wand-point three times already, he was able to push that to the side in order to dispassionately kill the man. The same went for Lily Potter, who had done the same thing and was begging before him to spare her child. The difficulty came when Voldemort looked into those bright green, intelligent eyes of young Harry Potter, and felt loathing for the child that had been prophesied to bring his downfall.

The Killing Curse would not work with that amount of emotion. An alternative would be required.

Voldemort had not known this about his so-called 'favourite curse' however, and was surprised when the curse failed him at that moment.

That moment was all that the Thief King needed to retaliate. Having heard the same words uttered to kill his little host's mother quite effectively, he was going to appropriately punish this man for attempting to do the same to the child.

And punish him harshly at that.

The Thief King called on the power of the Millennium Ring, called to the shadows and the magic of same, and forced a game between himself and the interloper.

"Who are you?" Voldemort demanded harshly.

The Thief King smirked, and the cruelty of that expression was further emphasised by the scar that he had drawn himself over his right eye and cheek. "Bakura," he answered simply. "Play with me," he said, his smirk stretching maliciously as he laid out a game between them. "The rules are simple..."

Of course, Voldemort lost the moment he cheated, and the Thief King sent what was left of his soul to the Shadow Realm. And wasn't he just pissed when he recognised the magic that the foul man had been using to fragment his soul and put off his own death. It was the same magic that had required the death of his entire village.

The Thief King watched over the infant from within the Ring once more, and watched as a large man scooped the child out of his cot. Bakura was ready to catch this man in a Shadow Game as well, since he didn't recognise the large man, when a much more familiar face appeared: Sirius Black, the man who had given the Ring to Harry.

"Hagrid, give him to me, I'm his godfather," Sirius said, reaching out for the babe.

Hagrid shifted Harry a little closer to his own chest. "I can' do tha', sorry Sirius. Dumbledore give me orders," the large man answered, though in a compassionate tone.

The Thief King watched, mildly amused, as Sirius grit his teeth, visibly became more angry – and distraught, as his blue eyes caught the site of his best friend, dead in the kitchen.

The eventual nod from Sirius was a reluctant one. "I should..." he trailed off, looking back at the body of James Potter. "Sort out everything here, I guess. Bury James and Lily. Make sure their valuables are properly secured. Where are you taking Harry anyway, Hagrid?" he asked, looking back to his godson.

"Dumbledore said Harry here should be with family," Hagrid answered.

"I am family!" Sirius protested, getting some of the fight and the fire back in his eyes.

"Blood relations," Hagrid countered with a shake of his head. "James 'ad no family left, so it's Lily's."

Sirius was very nearly growling. He was family. James' mum was a Black. His favourite great-aunt actually. Lily's only family left was Petunia Dursley, a spiteful, muggle woman who had hated magic ever since Lily had gotten her Hogwarts letter. He knew that wasn't a good place for Harry to be, and he'd bet that Dumbledore knew it too.

There were other people who were related to James in the same way of course – Bella, Andy and Cissy as well as his own baby brother Regulus, but Reg was still a bit young (not to mention missing a lot), and of his cousins, Sirius would only trust Andy with Harry. Then again, there were other options as well. Arthur Weasley was a Black as well – his mother was Credella Black. There were also the Longbottom's, though it was a little more distant since it was Frank's grandmother on his dad's side who was Callidora Black. Still, Sirius had a closer relation to James by blood, by friendship, and by being Harry's Godfather dammit! So why the hell was Harry being sent to Petunia Dursley?

"And he's to stay there I suppose?" Sirius asked lowly, fighting back his anger.

Hagrid nodded. "Tha's what Dumbledore said," he agreed. "Now don' you worry, Sirius. Harry'll be jes fine, an' I'm sure you'll get ta see 'im when he gets 'is Hogwarts letter."

Sirius nodded absently, not really believing it as he just kept his eyes on Harry.

The Thief King gently brushed his fingers over Harry's forehead, ruffling fine black hair in a way no breeze would.

Sirius saw it.

Hagrid didn't.

"Let me say goodbye?" Sirius asked, arms out for Harry.

Hagrid sighed, but gently set Harry in Sirius' arms before laying a hand on the man's shoulder in an offer of comfort and support – as well as making sure that the man didn't apparate out with the boy. He had orders from Dumbledore after all.

Sirius bent over Harry and kissed his forehead gently, one hand stroking the Millennium Ring that he could feel, still hanging around Harry's neck, beneath his all-in-one. Then his nose twitched.

"Hagrid? I think Harry's nappy needs to be changed before you take him to Dumbledore," Sirius said, looking up at the larger man.

Hagrid paled under his bushy beard.

Sirius chuckled. "I know. Lily made sure we all knew how to do it right, so I'll do it if you like."

Hagrid nodded and gestured for Sirius to lead the way back to the nursery, where Harry's cot, toys, and most importantly at this moment, changing table all were. Once they were there, Hagrid waited by the door rather than following Sirius in.

"Lily's sister isn't nice, and her husband is worse, but I'm sure you'll be just fine," Sirius said softly, brushing his finger's over the Millennium Ring as he spoke. "Since you won't be alone," he added in an even lower whisper. "I'll sort out everything here, probably put it all into a vault at Gringotts. The goblins may not want to tell you about your fortune when you get bigger, but they always answer questions honestly, which is more than most people will do without veritaserum being involved."

Sirius had finished taking off the old nappy and cleaning Harry, and with a flick of his wand had a number of items flying to him from around the room. A clean nappy, a fresh (warmer) all-in-one, a thick blanket, Harry's travel-seat that sometimes James attached to his broom or sometimes Lily attached to a stroller-frame, the soft brown dog that had been a birthday present from Remus, and a number of small odds and ends that Harry really ought to keep with him – the key to Potter Vaults and the signet ring that denoted Harry as Lord and Head of the family (greatly reduced as it now was) among them.

"It seems to me that there's more to that Ring than I thought," Sirius said as he wrapped the tired boy up in his blanket and tucked him into his travel-seat. "So if I hide these important things inside of Happy here," he said, meaning the stuffed animal, "do you suppose that whatever is looking after you will remember, and tell you when you're old enough to understand?"

The Thief King chuckled. "I'll do that," he answered, whispering in Sirius' ear. "Don't you worry. I'll take good care of my little Light."

Sirius relaxed minutely, nodding as he bent to kiss Harry's forehead one last time before tucking Happy (and his hidden contents) into the blanket and basket with Harry, and very reluctantly handing him over to Hagrid.

It didn't take long for the Thief King to decide that he really didn't like riding the Knight Bus, which was Hagrid's chosen mode of transportation from Godric's Hollow to Surrey.

He also decided, very quickly, that he didn't much like the wizard with the long white beard and a sense of fashion that leant towards something that could be best described as rainbow-coloured moth-leavings. And by moth-leavings, he meant something that even the moths wouldn't go near for fear of indigestion.

No, the Thief King held absent-minded contempt for the man known as Dumbledore. Until he just left Harry on the doorstep of one of the houses with only a letter. Then he decided that he would send him to the Shadow Realm at the very first opportunity that presented itself.

The woman who had been there as well, McGonagall, was almost as bad. She objected to what Dumbledore was doing, and then didn't suit actions to words.

Hagrid had simply handed over Harry and left, and so, for this at least, would not be held accountable. He would be remembered though, and not entirely fondly.