He
was thankful for Hermione’s presence the morning they were rushed out of bed
and out to the airport, where Mr Weasley found everything highly interesting
and more than once Harry wondered how he was going to survive a prolonged stay
in the Muggle world with the Weasleys when, for all their supposed love for
Muggles, they were completely hopeless in the Muggle world.
If
it hadn’t been for Harry and Hermione’s combined efforts, the Weasley twins
would have ended up being left behind because they irritated the security, Mr Weasley
would have been so fascinated by the check in desks that he wouldn’t have made
through security, yet alone gotten to the right gate.
Soon
enough though they touched down in Egypt and checked into their hotel, one of
the many in the wizarding section of Cairo. He and Ron got the pleasure of
sharing a hotel room on the third floor of a surprisingly Muggle hotel, while Percy
and the twins took over the room on one side of them and the girls got the
other. The parents on the other hand, were up a floor and across the hotel.
“Bill
will be joining us tomorrow.” Mr Weasley said as they gathered in the hotel’s
atrium after settling all their stuff, “And he’s going to take us on a tour of
the local area, so I thought, since we all have a little spending money, we’d
explore the bazaar.”
“Awesome!”
The twins grinned at each other.
“Before
we go anywhere you’re to take this,” Arthur handed each of them a pair of sweets.
“They’re called Babel Bombs. They come in different flavours and each flavour
teaches a different language. We’ll take two, Arabic and Ancient Egyptian.”
To
Harry the ‘Babel Bombs’ kind of looked like gobstoppers, but he put the first
in his mouth and sucked on it, enjoying the spicy flavour and wondering when it
was supposed to take effect. He only worked out that it had, and had been the
Arabic Babel Bomb when the sign on the wall, which until then had been in what
looked like squiggly lines suddenly became legible words in his mind.
“Do
Not Feed the Crocodiles.”
“Wow.”
Hermione looked delighted, not that Harry was surprised. This opened up whole
new opportunities for Hermione to learn, and as he popped the other sweet into
his mouth, he could already see his friend making a plan to hit every book
stand she could find in the bazaar.
Ron,
of course, looked rather bored by the whole situation, as he normally did when
Harry and Hermione were introduced to something new. It was an example, Harry
realised, of what Hermione had mentioned when they’d been playing Duel
Monsters. Ron was a Pure Blood, he had been raised around magic, had seen it
every single day growing up and had probably seen it do much greater things
than create such trivial things as Babel Bombs.
As
they left the hotel and wandered down the street, Harry wondered when and how
he should share the information that he’d gathered on the Serpent Bracer with
his friend. Hermione, of course, had read the books and worked it out for
herself, but Harry knew full well that Ron would never do such a thing. Trying
to get Ron to read his text books was bad enough, getting him to read anything
extra without bribery involved would be impossible, especially on his holiday.
Plus
Harry had a horrible feeling that even if Harry swore he wasn’t going to use
the item’s powers, Ron would either instantly condemn the Serpent Bracer as a
dark magical artefact and start shunning Harry, or he would see the powerful
golden item and want it for himself. Harry didn’t want to believe it of Ron,
but something in the back of his mind kept offering that as an option and Harry
had learned to listen to his instincts.
Still
he had to tell Ron about his findings sooner or later and sooner was probably
the better option.
In
fact he was going to tell Ron the moment that they split up, Ginny going with
her parents, the twins and Percy wandering off, probably to split up further
along, once they were certain their parents weren’t watching, and Harry and his
two friends sticking together to explore, except he was distracted almost
instantly by a voice he recognised. A voice that really really shouldn’t have
been in Egypt.
“You
like that bike then?”
Harry
wanted to groan and complain but he had to keep the fact that his godfather was
in Egypt a secret, as it was he headed towards the voice, only to find Sirius
chatting away happily to a surprisingly pale Egyptian boy whose hair was almost
white, about the motorcycles in a magazine.
“Harry.”
Sirius, and it was obviously Sirius even with his changed hair and eye colour,
grinned and waved when he spotted him, “I wondered when I was going to run into
you.”
“Mr
Grey.” Harry nodded back, unable to avoid the irritation that seeped into his
voice, “I thought you’d cancelled your flight.”
“You
know him Harry?” Ron asked, confused since he’d never met the man before and
though Harry could recognise his Godfather, the fact he’d shaved and tidied his
hair up, along with the grin on his face made him different enough that Ron
didn’t recognise the wanted criminal in front of him.
“Mr
Grey was Padfoot’s previous owner.” Harry explained, noting the way the boy
Sirius had been talking to seemed fascinated by the conversation, “We met in
Diagon.”
“Marik,
this is my friend Harry and I’m guessing his friends Ron and Hermione.” Sirius
introduced the boy, Hermione and Ron nodding to the boy as Sirius mentioned
their names, “Guys, this is Marik. He likes motorcycles.”
Hermione
just rolled his eyes at that, but before she could ask Marik any more questions
a black haired, just as pale skinned, girl popped out of the crowds looking
exasperated. “Marik, we must be getting home. You know father will be cross if
we’re not back in time.” She scolded the boy, who had gone slightly more pale
at the mention of his father, before turning to the others, “I’m sorry but my
brother and I must be going now.”
“But
Isizu,” Marik complained, “I’ve just met them and he,” He pointed at Sirius,
“Has a flying motorcycle.”
Isizu
gave Sirius a sharp look, muttering something about it being ‘a bad idea to
drag Marik to the magical bazaar’ under her breath and started to drag her
brother off. Marik, of course, put the breaks on so Hermione, being the one
with the most common sense made a suggestion.
“Why
don’t we walk you home?” Hermione asked, wondering why Isizu seemed even more
put off by that idea then she did the idea of Marik staying a little longer.
“Then Mr Grey can tell Marik a bit more about his bike.” And she could listen.
She was intrigued as to how he had gotten it to fly, considering that she’d
never had a chance to see Mr Weasley’s car in action before Harry and Ron had
crashed it into the Whomping Willow.
“No,
no. That’s not necessary.” Ishizu seemed more shocked at Hermione’s response to
Marik’s complaint than anything else and, “We really do need to get going and
you wouldn’t want to rush past all the... hey!”
Ishizu’s
tone of complaint made the man who had barged into her and caused Marik to go
tumbling into Harry, causing them both to fall over and hit the ground hard, wheel
around and glower at the group. “Yeah what?”
“You
should apologise to the kids.” Mr Grey pointed out as Marik picked himself up
and offered Harry a hand.
“For
what?” The man, who was obviously on holiday as well since he didn’t fit in
with the crowds and had none of the relaxed attitudes of the locals, sneered,
“They walked into me.”
“They
were stood still.” Sirius growled slightly.
“No,
that’s not how I remember it.” The man snorted back, turning to leave when
Marik put himself between the man and his route forward.
“Apologise
to my sister.” Marik growled.
“Look
kid, just move.” The man was less amused now and when Marik refused he took a
swing at the boy, knocking him into one of the stalls.
That
was quite enough for Sirius who seized the guy’s arm and wheeled him around to
face him. There would have been a fight if Harry hadn’t put his hand on
Sirius’s arm and shook his head.
“I
have an idea.” Hermione shot Harry a sharp look and froze when she realised
that Harry didn’t look very much like Harry anymore. The browner hair and amber
eyes were disconcerting in her friend. “Why don’t we play a Game?”
“A
game?” The man looked confused. “Why should I play a game with you?”
Ishizu
watched Harry carefully as she realised she’d seen this before. Her father had
used much the same sort of tone when referring to games while wielding the
Millennium Rod. She quickly looked the boy over, wondering whether he held one
of the remaining mystical items and only just caught a glimpse of gold at
Harry’s wrist.
“Because
if you win, we’ll admit you were in the right. If you lose or refuse to play,
we’ll report your attack on Marik to the Egyptian version of the Aurors.” Harry
replied, except Sirius knew full damn well it wasn’t Harry anymore, it was
Powel.
The
man paused to consider it and then shrugged. There was little harm in it and if
he lost he could always obliviate the group any way. “What’s the game?”
Powel
pulled a pound coin out of his back pocket and flicked it up in the air.
“Heads
or tails, best of three.” Powel stated confidently as the Shadows flickered and
danced around the pair, touching, but not harming those who weren’t involved
while testing the mental defences of the two players, poking for weaknesses.
Luckily Powel had the advantage there. Though he had plenty of flaws that the
Shadows could exploit if given the chance he had proved before that he wouldn’t
cheat. He was almost certain his opponent would.
“That’s
it?” The man asked, looking highly
amused by the ‘boy’s’ audacity.
“That’s
it.” Powel nodded, offering the coin to the man who reminded him of another
bully he’d had to deal with on the behalf of his host since awakening. “I’ll
even let you flip, but the coin must land on the floor and you must call before
you flip AND,” The emphasis on the word made the man look at him sharply, “You
mustn’t use magic to help you win. Also you are not allowed to hurt me or any
of my party and if you break the rules, you’ll suffer a Penalty.”
The man nodded his understanding, wondering
why the kid was even going through all of this considering it was all a game of
chance.
“Heads.”
He called, tossing the coin into the air milliseconds after he spoke. The coin
flipped in midair, rotating again and again until it bounced off the floor,
rotated one last time and landed heads up. “Ha.” He crowed, smirking at the kid
who had challenged him, trying to work out whether the amber eyes were a trick
of the light or the kid thought it was intimidating. “Give me a second and I’ll
have this won.”
“You
do know what you’re doing, don’t you?” Sirius asked Powel who just gave him an
amused look as the man bent down to pick up the coin and toss it again, “I
mean...”
“Don’t
worry.” Powel murmured back, taking his eyes off of his opponent to reassure
his host’s godfather, “I’ve been doing this since long before you were born.”
The
spirit of the Bracer had a point, Sirius had to admit and he backed off
slightly so the game could resume. At the end of the day it didn’t matter one
way or the other and he had to wonder why Powel had gotten involved in a
dispute that didn’t even really involve Harry except by accident.
The
man Powel was playing against wasn’t concerned, in the critical few moments
that the boy had taken his eyes off of his opponent the tourist had taken the
opportunity to slip his wand into his sleeve, just in case it was needed.
“Heads again.” The man said, flipping the coin
again and scowling as one of the uniformed policemen walked around the corner
and started heading their way. This time the coin landed on tails.
“All
even.” Powel stated with a small smirk, knowing that that it was the man’s lack
of concentration that had cost him the round. Even with something as simple as
luck the Shadows were forever testing the players. Though the Game had to be
fair, at the end of the day the one with the strongest will was almost always
the one who won the game. “One more round?”
The
tourist hesitated as one of the merchants further down the row of stalls came
out from behind his counter and started talking rapidly to the officer,
gesticulating wildly towards the man.
The
man scowled, realising that he’d wasted too much time humouring himself with
the group and attempted to leave, only to find he couldn’t walk away from the
coin on the ground.
“What
have you done to me?” He demanded, drawing his wand and pointing it at Powel,
who seemed to gain an eerie smirk.
“You
cast a single spell you lose.” Powel merely pointed out calmly, seemingly
unphased by the fact he had a wand pointed at him.
“I’m
done with your game, freak.” The man snarled as the policeman left the vendor
and headed for the man, looking rather irate, “I’m leaving.”
‘Freak’
was the wrong word to use around Powel, who had, thanks to Harry’s relatives, a
rather negative view on it and the Ex-Teacher scowled. “You can’t leave until
the game is played out. You only have to toss the coin once more. Or is that
too hard for you?”
“Heads.”
The man seized the coin, tossed it at Powel’s head and attempted to scarper.
The coin hit Powel’s forehead, just above his right eye and bounced off to land
on tails, but that wasn’t what everyone was watching. The moment the coin had
impacted with his forehead, Powel’s scowl had darkened and his eyes had glowed
with magic, along with a glowing serpent that settled upon Powel’s brow.
The
man got less than two steps away before he was dragged down by shadowy hands
and though he tried to get to his feet, he found that the most he could do was
turn to face his accuser.
“You
broke the rules.” Powel’s dark tone frightened Harry’s friends, who backed away
slightly from the spirit possessing their friend, “And for that there’s a
Penalty.”
“Wh...What?”
The man demanded, fear obvious in his tone as he realised that his wand had gone
flying when he’d been dragged down and he couldn’t move, “What are you talking
about?”
“Penalty
Game,” Powel didn’t pause to explain, raising his hand, fingers splayed out,
magic surging around him, darkening the surrounding area, “Rectitude.”
No comments:
Post a Comment