Ginny woke to the noise of the curtains being drawn back and found herself bolt-upright in a strange bed with her head throbbing and an unfamiliar figure silhouetted against the sharp morning light. Her fingers were already around her wand under the covers when the figure spoke.
"I hope you slept well."
The voice was husky and familiar, as was the way in which each word was spoken with a deliberate, practiced slowness, like the speaker was unfamiliar with English. As the sun glinted off the long, dark hair, and her groggy mind put together the pieces, Ginny sighed and fell back into the pillows.
"What are you doing in my room, Neti," she grumbled, pulling strands of her hair off her face as she burrowed into the silken sheets. The slender woman snaked over from her pose by the window, her movements slithering and languid, until she stood by Ginny's bedpost.
"Your family is down at breakfast," she replied instead, smoothing back her perfect, dark hair in a casual flipping motion that was distinctly feminine but surprisingly assertive. Ginny glared at her, incensed by the cursebreaker's coolness – and by her own comparative frumpiness.
"I'll be down in a minute," Ginny muttered, rolling over. Through her frizzy cloud of hair, Ginny could see Neti cross her arms. Today she was wearing all black, again, and her bare forearms against the dark fabric were striking. Ginny glanced over and saw the green tunic her mother had laid out for her and only felt more resentful towards her brother's partner. For a breath she indulged herself and buried her face in the strangely satin pillows; when she looked up, Neti had vanished.
"Where'd that Neti disappear to?" asked Mrs. Weasley. She kept her face blank, but Bill wasn't fooled – the rivalry he had tried to avoid was only intensifying.
"She's getting Ginny," Bill replied, trying to avoid the confrontation that he knew was coming. "Pass the toast?"
Down the table, Percy silently levitated a piece and sent it zooming down the table. It nearly clipped George in the nose, as the latter was climbing halfway across the table to thread a cord through the silverwear across the table from him. The flesh-colored string was attached to what looked like a human ear, and George was trying to position it so that it was directed a nearby table of sunglass-wearing businessmen.
"Watch it, Perce," George grumbled; he had drawn back quickly to avoid the carbohydrate missile and, as he staggered to find balance, was disappointed to discover that all his attempts at concealment were made futile – the businessmen offered the Weasley banquet table a few apathetic glances and then continued their muted discussion.
"It's not my fault if you find yourself unable to remain seated while at meals," replied Percy stiffly. He was suddenly very interested in buttering his toast.
"Sorry, Head Boy," replied Fred. "We forgot we were in the presence of royalty."
Both the twins bowed towards Percy, flourishing identically as though removing invisible hats and doffing them at their older brother. Percy sniffed and pursed his lips at his buttered toast. The threat neutralized, the twins resumed their attempts to feed the ear to the nearby table, only to break off in cries of anguish as the string attached to the back of the ear split over the distance.
At the other head of the table, Arthur was enthusiastically telling the waitress the family's story, only to be diverted by the arrival of Charlie, who was covered in sweat and sand.
"For goodness's sake, Charlie," Mrs. Weasley chided from across the table. "This is a restaurant. You should at least clean up a bit."
"They don't mind," Charlie laughed, smiling rakishly at the waitress that had been claimed by his father's story; she blushed and looked down, embarrassed by his flirting. In an easy movement, Charlie was seated at the table and filling his plate with pastries. But before he could raise a muffin to his mouth, he was engulfed in a whirlwind of sand; across the table, Mrs. Weasley had shot a spell at him, which removed the sand and scattered it around him.
"Jeez, Mum!" he chuckled, shaking the grit off his breakfast. Mrs. Weasley made a harrumphing noise and resumed her meal.
"Where have you been?" asked Ron quietly. He looked like he had shrunken into his chair, unable to get a toe into the conversation with Bill or the argument between Percy and the twins.
"Dune surfing," replied Charlie, shaking the sand out of his hair like a dog. Luckily, the room was spelled against sand; Ron watched in fascination as the particles were drawn to the floor and then vanished between the stones of the courtyard floor.
"How was it?" asked Ron. He seemed to continue shrinking further into the wooden back of the chair, sounding more like a mouse as the war across the table intensified: Fred and George were jinxing utensils to dance around Percy as Mrs. Weasley began scolding them in a tone loud enough to draw more irritated stares from the businessmen.
"Very dangerous, I'm sure," interrupted Mr. Weasley with a firm glance at Charlie.
"Yes," Charlie replied stiffly, although his eyes danced mischievously. "Very dangerous."
Mr. Weasley sighed and reached for his water glass.
"But all the really fun things are dangerous," whispered Charlie conspiratorially, winking at Ron. Mr. Weasley choked on his water; Charlie calmly pulled out his wand and cast anapneo, managing to keep his face straight (although the corners of his lips twitched in amusement). The moment he was able to breathe again, Mr. Weasley began to scold Charlie, who listened politely as he surreptitiously charmed Ron's syrup to show little cartoon-like drawings of dune surfing.
"What did I miss?"
A frazzled Ginny fell into the chair next to Ron, her hair darkened by its dampness and her green tunic looking decidedly wrinkled.
"Nothing much," Ron replied through a mouthful of pancakes, looking behind Ginny nervously. "Wasn't creepy-Egyptian lady with you?"
"So you agree!" Ginny replied.
Ron shrugged.
"Well, they're cursebreakers, aren't they?" he asked darkly. "Gotta be ready to deal with anything. Although by the way she looks at us, you'd think she's just waiting for us to sprout extra heads – and even if we did she wouldn't be fazed at all."
"Tell me about it," Ginny muttered, helping herself to a few biscuits. "And the way she's just lurking everywhere… I swear almost hexed her when I woke up and she was just... there... in my room."
"Weird," agreed Ron, who was now filling his plate with sausage.
"But where did she go?" Ginny repeated Ron's question, the meaning of his words finally sinking in. It was terrifying to not know where she was; it suddenly seemed inevitable that she would pop out somewhere and frighten them yet again.
"It you're talking about Neti," Bill asked from across the table, startling Ginny who had forgotten that she could be overheard, "she went to go get the camels."
"Camels?" asked Ron, shooting a worried glance at first his sister than his brother, the latter of who laughed kindly.
"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll have fun. Tomorrow we'll be using their equivalent of Floo, but for today I thought it would be fun to see how they get around here."
"Where are we going?" That was either Fred or George from down the table; they had begun a powwow over the broken ear and were facing away from the table.
"The letter I got yesterday was from Gringotts," Bill told them, removing the crumpled parchment from his pocket and waving it around. "And it's authorized you all to join me and Neti to some of the more-famous pyramids."
"Does this mean if we find anything we can keep it?" asked Ron.
"No," laughed Bill. "All gold goes back to Gringotts, that's what they pay me for."
"But why not just keep it?" asked the other twin.
"Gringotts has an agreement with the Egyptian government which gives it monopoly on found gold. Not to bore you – it's basically politics. We could have a long discussion about the magical fine print in the Anglo-Egyptian Treaty of 1936… or we could discuss the joys of camel riding…" Bill said, standing slowly as he segued to a discussion of the day's activities. He raised a hand to indicate the corridor that lead to the main lobby and the front door. The clan quickly stood, Ron leaning over his plate to shove in a few final mouthfuls, and then they trooped off to the outdoors and the promise of adventure.
When they filed outside, Ron shaded his eyes against the sun and was surprised to discern the figure of Neti perched like a queen on a particularly stubborn-looking camel.
"Does she have to?" grumbled Ginny, angrily shoving her sun-covering on, upset by the tranquility of the Egyptian.
"I suppose," Ron replied, staring up at the imposing form.
"So: camels," Bill said, clapping and then rubbing his hands together excitedly.
"Does my foot go here?" asked Fred, who looked like he was trying to ride his camel sideways. It made a mooing noise at him angrily and tried to take a bite out of his poncho-like shirt.
"C'mere, Perce," George said, grabbing his unwilling brother, "we'll hoist you up."
Soon the twins were chasing an irate Percy, who was insisting that he could just walk, which quickly devolved into Mrs. Weasley chasing them chasing him. Neti scowled at the shenanigans, flipping her waterfall of hair over one shoulder in just the way that a cat whisks its tail impatiently.
"I'll meet you at the first temple," Neti told Bill, a sarcastic edge biting into her voice.
"Race you," offered Charlie, slinging himself into the saddle gracefully. Neti looked him over, cocked her head, and, after a moment's deliberation, struck her camel into a the semblance of a gallop. Charlie grinned and took off after her. Soon, the two had disappeared into a cloud of dust.
For a good five minutes, Ron refused to even go near the camels, especially after he saw the way his father's made a low, rumbling noise when its reins were yanked. Anything that growled was decidedly not a friend of his.
"Stop being such a sissy," muttered Ginny. She was frustrated with her own discomfort, with the way her toes were too short for the stirrups and the way she hesitated to strike the camel with the prod Bill had given her - and, as a result, was unsuccessful at urging the beast forward. Fred and George were trotting in circles around each other, and would have continued hexing Percy to keep him falling off had Bill not told them how easily camels were spooked by magic (another thing that had Ginny restless, as her wand had to be kept stowed in her tunic pocket).
When finally everyone was atop a camel, it then took another long while to get them moving in a forward direction; when Mrs. Weasley shook her reins, her confused camel began meandering backwards, which made the stubborn Mrs. Weasley only madder and the camel only more confused. Percy's camel was as jumpy as he was, and continually seemed to question its footing, which lead to Percy completely neglecting the reins and clinging to the saddle for dear life. Meanwhile, Fred and George were trying to make their camels do tricks, and seemed determined to get them to rear or buck or dance around like trick ponies.
Eventually, Bill casually slung himself off his camel in defeat and began leading the other camels by hooking all the reins in his hands. At this snail pace they took off across the dunes, where the sun glinted along the crests and blinded the Weasley caravan.
"How long do you think they'll be?"
"Quite long," Neti replied, calmly tying the camel up to a post and unloading a canteen from the saddle bags. As she worked her long hair fell across her face, a sheet of ebony. Charlie found himself tracing that hair, where it wound around her long, graceful neck and fell in loops to lie against the revealing plunge of her shirt, which was ever more revealing as she bent to secure the reins.
"Am I doing something wrong?" she asked, pausing as she tied the reins, flicking her full lashes upwards as she stared up at him. Charlie blushed, his freckles fading as red took over his cheeks.
"No, why would you think that?"
"You're staring," she replied, raising an eyebrow. But somehow, there was a teasing lilt to her pleasantly-husky voice.
"I don't think I was," Charlie replied nervously.
"You were," Neti replied confidently, straightening so that her face swung dangerously close to Charlie's. "But don't worry," she murmured, leaning in closer so that her breath brushed his neck, "I don't mind."
In a sinuous, languorous movement she turned and paced away from a pink-eared Charlie who was shaking his head and muttering to himself, trying not to watch the way her hips swung suggestively as she drifted away from him.
It seemed like an eternity of waiting by the camels, but Charlie felt tethered there by some strange honor, some unconscious idea that Neti was Bill's property. It was an arcane, chauvinistic idea, but try as he might to rationalize accepting Neti's flirtation, Bill found himself scowling into the reflected sun and waiting for his family instead of following the seductively twining shadow of Neti into the cool depths of the nearby temple.
"Sorry about the wait," muttered Bill, who was drenched in sweat and knee-deep in sand. He looked exhausted; Charlie hurried to offer him a canteen.
"I'm good," Bill replied, holding up the empty water bottle that was looped around his neck.
"We are Floo-ing back," muttered Ginny, who slid ungracefully off her camel into the steadying arms of her oldest brother.
"I second that," grumbled Ron as he was helped down by his father.
In a shared exhausted silence, the Weasleys paraded into the cool shadows of the temple. It was dark, but with a great whooshing sound, a match was lit by Neti. After a moment of holding the flickering light to her face, during which her bewitched-looking eyes met Charlie's confused pair and then Bill's jaded pair, she held it to a nearby oil lamp that was attached to the wall. As it lit, it cast a dancing light across the millennia old soot marks that stained the walls above it.
"This is the Temple of Dendur," Neti intoned quietly. Her voice, however, was easily heard; the Weasley family was, for once, silent. All were in quiet awe, except Bill, who was smiling to himself, relieved by their reverence. It would only have taken one muted critique from his mother or a hushed laugh from one of his brother's to anger Neti irrevocably. But luckily, they remained silent as Neti began her tale, her voice mellowing into a ghost-story tone.
"It was relocated here to protect it from Muggle construction that would have re-routed Nile waters into it; they believe they relocated to America as a demonstration of gratitude " here her voice took on a sardonic edge, which she quickly muted in favor of her mysterious tone "—however, we managed to replicate it prior to its removal and relocate it to a better-suited resting place."
Neti began to wind her ways through the rooms, down the main corridor that was barely wide enough for half the Weasley family to pass through at the same time. At the far wall, the temple branched to the right and left, where twin tunnels returned to the main entrance. All along the walls, in scrolling borders, cartouches and hieroglyphics marched across the pale stone, reflecting the torchlight. Mr. Weasley went to light his wand, but Bill quickly gestured his disapproval, and as a result all wands remained in pockets. It was a gesture of respect that made Ginny feel panicked in an isolated, alienated way.
"The temple was built about fifteen years prior to the birth of Christ and remains an important paradigm of Egyptian temples. Although historians believe the temple was reserved for Isis, Osiris, and lesser chieftains…
The twins gathered around some writing, guffawing. They were pointing to some inscribed names in English, marks of ownership, carved names and clearly AD dates, demonstrations of English superiority and disruptions of the apparent legitimacy of the temple. Neti scowled and drew her wand; at the movement, the twins drew back abruptly, only to see the markings glow an electric blue and then distort into different shapes following Neti's silent flourish. The dates bent into flowing hieroglyphics, and the band of blue, glowing shapes spread across the temple, stork-like figures sprouting into lit shapes out of the sandy-colored stone.
"… the temple was actually a place of heka or Egyptian magicking," Neti continued, now giving the twins a scathing glare that kept them sober for a few more moments. "However, the symbols were hidden from prying Muggle eyes."
"And this shape?" asked Ginny, from the northwest corner. She flinched again, this time feeling Neti's presence appear at her back before her voice answered her.
"Clever girl," Neti breathed, following Ginny's inquisitive glance to the tile with the carved geometric symbols. They clearly lacked the fluidity and pictographic qualities of the hieroglyphics and had drawn Ginny's gaze.
"A shield charm," Bill replied. Ginny did not flinch at his voice; she had heard his scuffed footsteps as he approached. Perhaps that was what was so unsettling about Neti's movements: their quiet, catlike quality. "If you look carefully, you can see that the square with the super-imposed triangle is filled by an invisible depiction of a man with both arms raised, fingers pointing skywards."
Bill waved his wand, and the pictographic hieroglyphic appeared in faint, glowing blue. Ginny watched it, drawn by the exotic, unknown quality of it all. The picture was distinctly Egyptian, with the classic profile depiction of the face contrasting the straight-on view of the chest and arms. Her eyes found the face of the man and traced it upwards to the headdress; instantly, in a moment of foolishness, she was reminded of a quail.
"That hieroglyphic can be loosely translated as 'a million' or 'many'," Bill explained, apparently unamused by the headdress that was so striking to Ginny. "It signifies the many shields that protect this temple. The shield is shown as the triangle, where the square is a representation of the temple itself."
"That's how anchors work, isn't it." Mr. Weasley had come up and had listened to the mini-lesson with grave interest. "Physical representations that strengthen the charm or spell."
"Yeah," Bill replied. "Many times, that's how we work to unravel curses. Usually—"
Neti made a noise in the back of her throat and Bill cut off abruptly.
"Anyone care for a refreshment?" she asked, saccharine sweetness melting into her normally-sharp voice.
And before anyone could ask for any more specifics on cursebreaking, she led them outside for some water and wine.