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thecooloneThe Nile River sparkles in the sunlight; Bill tucks his wand quickly out of sight beneath his shirt. The last thing he wants to do is attract any more attention than usual with his red hair and blue eyes and pale skin already on the docket as cause for curiosity. He walks quickly along the Nile Corniched, all familiar territory to him. It's a fairly busy day; pedestrians and cars share the road and he keeps to the side, breathing in as deeply and inconspicuously as possible for someone who just leapt through time and space and across dimensions to find himself here. He turns onto the Sharia al-Mahatta and away from the sparkling blue water of the Nile and the lazy palm trees, trodding down old familiar paths.
The bazaar is this way. He walks the Sharia al-Mahatta until it meets up with the street to the temple at Karnak and here that street changes names. It used to confuse Bill; he's spent enough time here to not only know and understand the city, but also to love it greatly. The sign reads Sharia al-Markaz and he's glad to see that not much has changed since he was last here. As he winds his way south past the temple and into the market area, he catches a glimpse of a newspaper: 10 April, 1997.
Curious. Time has been passing day-for-day here as it has in the bar; that's counter to what most have told him but in a way he's glad. It means that no time has been wasted; no days of his life have gone unaccounted for, if he's keeping track. The crowd jostles him along and alert as always for pickpockets, he realises with amusement that he's come here with no money other than the few Galleons in his pocket.
He's been in tighter fixes before.
No worries, Bill. No worries, mate. It's the voice of one of his coworkers at Gringotts, almost a mentor to him when he first arrived in Egypt fresh from Hogwarts and first-round training. If you've got your wits with you, you've got what you need. Those words have come in handy on more than one occasion and they sound rather good to Bill just now. Rows of pottery and rows of alabaster catch his eye; he's close. Very close. For behind the largest of the Muggle bazaars here lies the Bazaar Al-Amun: the wizarding bazaar. Its entry is decorated by crio-sphinx statues: with their ram's heads and lion's bodies, they're the symbol of the God Amun. Seven of them grace the hidden entrance, and if you tap them in the correct order...
In a flash Bill is through the entryway; it closes behind him with a quiet hiss and he remembers thinking a long time ago that it was Luxor's answer to Diagon Alley. In some ways that's not a bad comparison. Things have not changed: he heads straight for the Luxor Gringotts Auxiliary office, hidden behind a pottery stall. Pushing back the rug that hides the door, he peeks inside.
"Hullo?"
It's dark inside, and the room low and long. At the far end at an elevated desk sits a goblin he recognises and he's glad to realise that some things never change. "Hullo, Crankgrap."
The goblin looks up at him; his long fingers twitch in anticipation. "If it's not our wayward Mr Weasley. What have you got for me?"
"Nothing, I'm afraid." Bill studies the goblin; this is not an answer they like to hear. "I need a new assignment." In all his years, this is only the second time he's appeared in this office empty-handed. "I got sidetracked, through no fault of my own and drink had nothing to do with it this time." Although one cannot simply charm goblins into laughing, he's never stopped trying.
"Sign the ledger." Crankgrap slides a book toward him. "Line 42."
Coincidence? Bill takes the quill and signs his name with a flourish. "Crankgrap, there haven't been strangers here asking after me, have there?"
"None stranger than you, Mr Weasley." The goblin examines the signature carefully, then pulls out a parchment envelope from a desk drawer. He hands it across the table to Bill. "Newly discovered tomb. No one knows what guards this one, Mr Weasley. Caution as always; don't come back empty-handed a second time."
The parchment has the Gringotts wax seal on it; Bill breaks it open and takes a deep breath. Right here, Valley of the Kings. The trick to this is to do the work during the daytime without attracting the attention of any tours or archaeologists or...
"You've given me a challenge." He breaks into a smile and turns to the wall; a series of cubbies are barely visible in the dim light. He knows which one is his, though, and reaches for an inconspicuous sand-coloured galabayya with a hidden pocket for his wand, which he slips on over his body. It will help him blend in just that much more. He wraps a scarf around his head, turban-style.
"Close enough, right?" A bit less obvious at any rate. "I'll either return with treasure or not return this time."
The goblin shakes his head, scanning his ledger. "Second tomb to the right and straight on till morning, Mr Weasley."
Goblin humour.
The bazaar is this way. He walks the Sharia al-Mahatta until it meets up with the street to the temple at Karnak and here that street changes names. It used to confuse Bill; he's spent enough time here to not only know and understand the city, but also to love it greatly. The sign reads Sharia al-Markaz and he's glad to see that not much has changed since he was last here. As he winds his way south past the temple and into the market area, he catches a glimpse of a newspaper: 10 April, 1997.
Curious. Time has been passing day-for-day here as it has in the bar; that's counter to what most have told him but in a way he's glad. It means that no time has been wasted; no days of his life have gone unaccounted for, if he's keeping track. The crowd jostles him along and alert as always for pickpockets, he realises with amusement that he's come here with no money other than the few Galleons in his pocket.
He's been in tighter fixes before.
No worries, Bill. No worries, mate. It's the voice of one of his coworkers at Gringotts, almost a mentor to him when he first arrived in Egypt fresh from Hogwarts and first-round training. If you've got your wits with you, you've got what you need. Those words have come in handy on more than one occasion and they sound rather good to Bill just now. Rows of pottery and rows of alabaster catch his eye; he's close. Very close. For behind the largest of the Muggle bazaars here lies the Bazaar Al-Amun: the wizarding bazaar. Its entry is decorated by crio-sphinx statues: with their ram's heads and lion's bodies, they're the symbol of the God Amun. Seven of them grace the hidden entrance, and if you tap them in the correct order...
In a flash Bill is through the entryway; it closes behind him with a quiet hiss and he remembers thinking a long time ago that it was Luxor's answer to Diagon Alley. In some ways that's not a bad comparison. Things have not changed: he heads straight for the Luxor Gringotts Auxiliary office, hidden behind a pottery stall. Pushing back the rug that hides the door, he peeks inside.
"Hullo?"
It's dark inside, and the room low and long. At the far end at an elevated desk sits a goblin he recognises and he's glad to realise that some things never change. "Hullo, Crankgrap."
The goblin looks up at him; his long fingers twitch in anticipation. "If it's not our wayward Mr Weasley. What have you got for me?"
"Nothing, I'm afraid." Bill studies the goblin; this is not an answer they like to hear. "I need a new assignment." In all his years, this is only the second time he's appeared in this office empty-handed. "I got sidetracked, through no fault of my own and drink had nothing to do with it this time." Although one cannot simply charm goblins into laughing, he's never stopped trying.
"Sign the ledger." Crankgrap slides a book toward him. "Line 42."
Coincidence? Bill takes the quill and signs his name with a flourish. "Crankgrap, there haven't been strangers here asking after me, have there?"
"None stranger than you, Mr Weasley." The goblin examines the signature carefully, then pulls out a parchment envelope from a desk drawer. He hands it across the table to Bill. "Newly discovered tomb. No one knows what guards this one, Mr Weasley. Caution as always; don't come back empty-handed a second time."
The parchment has the Gringotts wax seal on it; Bill breaks it open and takes a deep breath. Right here, Valley of the Kings. The trick to this is to do the work during the daytime without attracting the attention of any tours or archaeologists or...
"You've given me a challenge." He breaks into a smile and turns to the wall; a series of cubbies are barely visible in the dim light. He knows which one is his, though, and reaches for an inconspicuous sand-coloured galabayya with a hidden pocket for his wand, which he slips on over his body. It will help him blend in just that much more. He wraps a scarf around his head, turban-style.
"Close enough, right?" A bit less obvious at any rate. "I'll either return with treasure or not return this time."
The goblin shakes his head, scanning his ledger. "Second tomb to the right and straight on till morning, Mr Weasley."
Goblin humour.
