Well, here's the next chapter of MoA. Enjoy, r&r, and if you have questions just pm me as usual.

Magicks of the Arcane

Chapter XIII

Egypt – 29. June 1995

The sensation of using a portkey was always the same, probably, nonetheless for someone who had only done it once or twice it wasn't pleasant. It prickled, and while it did not really hurt it was uncomfortable to say the least. The disorientation, the dizziness after seeing too much colors fly by, meshing together and becoming something new, intangible... was it possible to be awed by beauty, yet not pleased to have seen it? For Harry James Potter it was possible, definitely, and he thanked Merlin that as his feet met the sandy ground the hand of his mentor came to rest on his shoulder and steadied him. The travel had been shorter than before, quite possibly due to the distance involved, Harry mused and while he was not overly fond of their method of transportation it did have its uses.

Definitely a piece of magic he intended to learn in the future. Magical power was, of course, an obstacle he had to overcome, but if there was one of the three pillars that defined a wizard's might that he had in spades it was raw power. He wasn't bad in the creativity part either, but knowledge – and the experience to use that knowledge – well, he was sorely lacking in that department. It was a problem he had hoped to tackle in his fifth year, away from deadly distractions like the tournament, away from the need to learn certain magicks just to survive. Voldemort's return threw a wrench in his plan however and now, while still learning things that interested him, he was once again forced to study for the sake of his survival.

Harry sighed and his eyes wandered to the man standing next to him. At least Dumbledore would make it fun, he thought.

He wondered what their destination was. The headmaster hadn't told him of any friends of his that they would visit, but he was quite sure that there had to be a reason for their arrival in the land of the pharaohs. As insane as Dumbledore sometimes appeared, he never did anything without a reason and Harry knew that behind the mask of a barmy old man, there was a mind sharper than most. He trusted the headmaster, he liked him, really, but there was no doubt that he was a man not to be crossed – at any cost.

His eyes left the headmaster and he took a look around. Houses, not unlike those he saw in Izmir, lined the street and while they bore a striking similarity, they seemed to be more gaudy. Richly decorated and not hinting toward any kind of poverty, they were the sort of residences he would attribute to rather wealthy people. In Izmir the clothing had come in various colors – shades of red mixed with green, black and brown often interwoven in white – here however, the people had a clear preference for white, and only white colors. Another peculiarity that didn't escape his notice where the trims. Black, red, blue, and green were the colors he saw. Only one for each robe, but one for all of them and the only exception seemed to be tourists like Dumbledore and himself.

Now that he thought of it, Dumbledore and himself stood out like sore thumbs. Cobalt and the black of his school robe – without the crest – clashed heavily with the 'only white' in the street, so much in fact that people started to look at them strangely, no doubt wondering who they were.

"We are strangers here, Harry. It is no wonder that they try to discern our origin and purpose," the headmaster answered his unasked question. It was rather unnerving.

"You will find that Egypt his quite different from Turkey despite their obvious similarity at first. Laws for one are quite well enforced, especially in the grand district of Cairo, where we are by the way, so it might be prudent not to let anyone know how we arrived here."

"I already noticed some of the differences. What are the colored trims about?"

"Identification marks. I can't say I agree with the system, but Egypt still uses castes and has done so for thousands of years already. There's no need to be intimidated by anyone though. The only color you should be wary of his gold, because those who bear the golden trim belong to the ruling caste and can be offended quite easily if one isn't practiced in their customs – wars have been fought for less after all."

"Castes? That's a bit archaic," said Harry and was rewarded with an amused look.

"Archaic it might be, but who are we to judge traditions as old as these? No, if there is one way to anger someone, it is to insult their home – intentionally, or not."

"I never intended to insult them."

"I know that and you know that, but the other people here don't so it might be wise to be cautious," said Dumbledore and walked ahead.

"Egypt is, by the way, not divided into several magical districts. Rather there is one large settlement and hundreds of small outposts throughout the country. Many adventurer try to brave the unforgiving desert seeking riches or knowledge and the outposts can equip them with the necessary tools, for a fee of course"

"Sounds like they're run by goblins," said Harry and half-expected to run into Bill Weasley at any moment. It had been months since he last spoke with Ron, but at that time the eldest child of the Weasley Clan was still stationed in Egypt.

"They are owned by goblins, but mostly run by the humans they employ. There has been much blood spilled between wizards and goblins, and both tend to avoid each other outside of fiscal matters."

For nearly an hour they walked through the magical district of Cairo and although he probably should have panicked, Harry was quite amused by the fact that Dumbledore looked just as lost as he did. Lost, but not unaware, amended the last Potter in his mind. The blue eyes hidden behind half-moon spectacles were still as observing as ever and he was sure that no person they had passed in the last sixty minutes went unnoticed by the headmaster.

"What exactly are we looking for?" Harry asked when Dumbledore had come to a standstill for the second time in five minutes, taking a good look around.

"An information board. They hold various job offers and we might find something interesting on it," Dumbledore answered and continued to sweep the area with his eyes. "So far, they remain illusive though."

Albus Dumbledore was a great wizard, one of the greatest in fact, but sometimes Harry had to wonder about the man's common sense. He was tired, hadn't even slept the night before, and wanted nothing more than to find a cozy bed and fall asleep, so he did the one thing he knew would help him in that particular endeavor – he asked one of the locals.

Before the headmaster even had a chance to hold him back, Harry walked over to a man that bore a red trim and asked him about the next upcoming information board. The guy had been incredibly helpful and now, as both of them stood before the board that was filled to the brim with pieces of nailed parchment he joyfully thought about the surprised face his mentor had made when he walked directly toward the target of their hour long search.

"Good work," Dumbledore said as he searched through the many ads on the board. "Tell me, Harry, why did you chose the man with the red trim?"

Harry wondered about that. Was the question some kind of test, or was it the headmaster's natural curiosity? Why had he chosen the man amongst the dozens around him? Maybe Dumbledore was referring to his mistake in Izmir when he nearly bought cursed daggers...

"Let me rephrase that question: Do you know what the red trim stands for?"

"Not really," Harry answered.

"The red trim indicate the Aurors of Egypt, and maybe our adventure became just that more adventurous should you have roused their suspicions."

It took a few more hours until they boarded a room that would serve them for some days. Harry had been amazed by the older man's ability to haggle when Dumbledore nearly reduced the owner of the establishment to tears. He wouldn't quite call it a hotel, but it did provide them with an ordinary sized room, equipped with two beds, a desk and comfortable looking cushions – and all that for the prize of five Galleons the night.

"We have much to discuss, Harry. Make yourself comfortable," Dumbledore said, already having drawn his wand.

The first few charms that silently left the headmaster's wand he had managed to identify due to the precise wand movements, but as the time went on the movements became more complex and at some point Dumbledore had abandoned silent casting, chanting in different, but clearly old languages. Colorful jets of light splashed against the walls, leaving them unmarred, and Harry felt dozens of privacy charms settle in. No, not only privacy charms, he thought, but even more than that. Repelling charms, security charms, obscuring charms – the list went on and on.

In ten minutes, the headmaster had cast an amount of magic that was nearly incomprehensible and it hadn't even left the man sweating.

"Wasn't that a bit excessive?" Harry asked.

"Maybe, but the topics of our conversation are rather sensitive. It is, after all, better to be save than sorry."

"Mhh, true," said Harry and sank deep into a large green pillow.

"You can take out your pipe, Harry," Dumbledore said and frowned a bit. "I assumed that you would want to smoke and included some air-freshening charms."

Harry inclined his head, a sly smile tugging at his lips. "You know what they say about assumptions, professor."

The reproving look Dumbledore gave him nearly made him giggle. "Don't be coarse, my boy. I only worry about your health – smoking can't be good for it."

"Don't worry, professor," Harry said, the smile never leaving. "I already researched some rather obscure healing charms that will heal any damage I inflict on my lungs. Might ask madam Pomfrey if she can help me to learn them though."

Dumbledore had seemingly resigned and just looked disapproving, but Harry, who had spent the last few days exclusively in the company of the esteemed headmaster, also detected a hint of amusement.

"I think I know what charms you mean."

"I had a feeling you would, professor," Harry said and carefully unhooked the pipe from his belt. Not long after, the spicy smell of various herbs filled the room and clouded them in a sense of mystery.

Despite himself, Dumbledore was impressed. The last Potter had achieved what many thrice his age failed to do and created an impression of wisdom that belied his years. He really wondered whether the lad knew that he sometimes unconsciously created a hazy shroud around himself that wasn't unlike his own aura.

The companionable silence stretched on as Harry exhaled clouds of smoke and Dumbledore fished an unlabeled bottle out of his robes. He quirked an eyebrow when the dark red liquid filled the headmaster's cup.

"You know, Harry, there is a yearly celebration to honor Hathor in magical Egypt. I don't know whether the Muggles still do the same, but then it was hold at Bubastis and honored the goddess of love, joy, and drunkenness."

Dumbledore took a healthy gulp from his goblet and let out a content sigh. "'... when they come to Bubastis they hold festival celebrating great sacrifices, and more wine of grapes is consumed upon that festival than during the whole of the rest of the year.' - I've read these words on an ancient inscription decades ago, and sometimes I wonder why we never had such wonderful customs at home."

"Bubastis?" Harry asked somewhat amused by the headmaster's words.

"An old Egyptian city that sadly is no more. Nowadays the wizard and witches of Egypt flock to Cairo to celebrate such festivals. There are so many gods in this countries mythology, it is a wonder we didn't see an ongoing festival as soon as we arrived here."

For a moment a look of emotional pain flashed over the man's face and he wondered what thought the headmaster just had.

"Nonetheless, I feel it is time for me to tell you why we are here, because as much as I would like it to be, it is sadly not for pleasure."

Harry sat up a bit straighter and focused completely on the man as Dumbledore continued to talk. "At the end of your second year in Hogwarts, after you emerged from the chamber for all intents and purpose victorious over the spirit of Voldemort, you brought with you some very interesting magical items. Can you guess which items I talk about?"

"The book and the sword," Harry whispered and Dumbledore nodded.

"Exactly, though I don't think you understand why those items are so interesting aside from the obvious."

He frowned and thought back to his second year at Hogwarts. The voice coming from the walls, the fear that insanity had him firmly in its grasp, the discovery of his ability to speak parseltongue, the suspicions of his peers, the damning feeling to be ostracized, the petrification, and finally his confrontation with Tom Riddle and his pet, the fifty feet long basilisk. Before Fawkes had helped them out of the chamber, he had stabbed the diary with a fang from the freshly slain basilisk, vanquishing Riddle... still, all of these things were obvious – to him at least.

He shook his head and answered, "No, not really."

"And that is a good thing, Harry. I would have feared for your mental health had you known what I talked about."

Again the look of pain flashed over Dumbledore's face. "I couldn't quite believe it myself, hoped beyond hope that even Voldemort wasn't as depraved as to use the magicks you have witnessed in the chamber of secrets. Alas, he did and when you brought me the diary of Tom Riddle my suspicions were proven to be right."

Harry remained silent and Dumbledore looked contemplating. "Do you have Sirius' dagger with you, Harry? It is time that I introduce you to a new, interesting type of magic."

He was thrown for a loop by the abrupt change of topics, but nodded and pulled out the dagger, presenting it to the headmaster.

"What I will tell you about Voldemort requires the highest of amount of secrecy possible and while magical oaths are powerful, there are ways to circumvent them. Precious few, but it is not a risk I'm willing to take."

Dumbledore took the the dagger from Harry and chuckled when the boy nearly jumped up in concern as he nearly cut his hand in half. The blood pooled in the headmaster's hands and when it was enough he started to trace various unknown symbols onto the desk.

"What I will show you is a minor blood ritual. Definitely not light, as are no magicks that require a sacrifice, but not really dark either. The ministry might disapprove of such things, but for once we can thank the staunch supporters of pureblood traditions that rule the Wizengamot."

"What do I have to do?" Harry asked.

"Just feel it, and it will come to you," Dumbledore answered and spoke a short incantation. "Jana, consort of Janus, seeker of truth, goddess of secrets. I offer thee my blood for thy protection."

For a short moment the blood on the table glowed in an unnatural color and then Harry felt it - a foreign presence, completely unknown, was in his head and asked for permission. It asked if he agreed to protect the secrets the headmaster had to share. The question rang through his head, not in words but in feelings and emotions.

The magic felt his acceptance, the room was glowing blood red, and Harry bit back a strangled gasp of pain as something burned itself deep into his wrist. It ended quickly, and when the room was back to normal he saw the symbol on his wrist. Coincidentally, he saw the same symbol on Dumbledore's wrist – a man with two faces, looking away from each other.

"What was that?" He bit out.

"That, Harry, was a secrecy ritual that supersedes magical oaths in every imaginable aspect. You temporarily offered your dagger and magic, and I permanently offered my blood, binding us together as the sharer of the secrets I will tell you now."

"They better be worth it, professor, or you can keep your secrets the next time," Harry said and rubbed his wrist, trying to alleviate the pain.

"Oh, they are, unfortunately they are," Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "I told you that my suspicions were proven correct once I examined the diary. It was a horcrux, probably the blackest magic in existence."

Harry didn't know why, but he shuddered in disgust. The word alone sounded foul. "What is a... horcrux?"

"I know only bits and pieces of the ancient myths, but those are enough to paint a truly horrendous picture. To create a horcrux one has to tear the soul asunder and in return it grants a form of immortality."

"And Voldemort made such a thing?"

Dumbledore shook his head again. "Tom is a foolish man and I believe he made even more than one. Remember, you already destroyed the diary and yet he returned. I know so little about them, it is disconcerting that Tom learned enough to create one when he was just a student. A manipulative and murderous student, but a student nonetheless."

Harry frowned. "So we're here to find and destroy the rest?"

"Not exactly, my boy. It took me nearly two years to hunt down legends, myths, and forgotten lore, but in the end I found a promising lead. The origin of the abomination called horcrux is here in Egypt. We are here to find long lost knowledge about them."

"Egypt is rather large though, professor. Isn't that like searching a needle in a haystack?"

"Why yes, it is. What a marvelous expression! I guess it is something the muggles say? Still, this knowledge is the most important part of our travels and even if we don't have the time to visit any other country, this is a quest we have to fulfill."

"So, where do we start to search?" Harry asked and pondered the problem himself. Where does one start to succeed with such a goal?

"You won't be searching with me at first, Harry," the headmaster began and upon seeing the incredulous look of his charge quickly elaborated. "We will search together once we have a definite location, but until then I have to visit the darker parts of Cairo. Information such as these won't be in the hands of innocent citizens, and I will not risk your life in such a manner. Especially if it isn't strictly necessary."

"Can I explore the city at least?"

Dumbledore's look shifted from concerned to somewhat guilty and Harry groaned. "You're kidding, right?"

"Due to the strict laws it might be a bit dangerous for you to wander the streets without me. Don't worry though you'll have enough to do in the time I'm not here."

Harry raised an eyebrow sceptically and Dumbledore, wondering if Harry had copied the move from Severus, elaborated. "Before our travels began, I compelled a list of spells and magicks that might come in very handy for you. I'd like you to master them, and I'll help you as soon as I'm back from my daily searches."

The last Potter greedily took the small stack of parchment from his mentor's hands and looked through them. Dumbledore had to admit that he felt a bit smug with each widening of Harry's eyes as he read the list.

"These are pretty difficult," Harry said, indicating to the parchment.

"Oh, I'm sure that you will manage to learn all of them while we're here. You're an intelligent lad, after all."

The emphasis on the word all didn't escape Harry. It wasn't a threat, more like an expectation as if there was no doubt that he would be able to learn them. Somehow it filled him with pride that the headmaster had such faith in him, but on the other hand...

He had a lot of work to do.

A lot...

Egypt - 3. July 1995

Days went by and while Albus Dumbledore, arguably the strongest wizard of the century searched for clues and leads that might help them in their quest, Harry James Potter trained himself to exhaustion in the room they had rented. He had thought that he managed to see every spell the professor had used when they had arrived – see, not understand – but there was more to magic than what the eye could glimpse, and while he had seen a lot, there were also charms that he hadn't noticed which were later explained to him by the headmaster. Charms that made training a whole lot easier as they repaired every bit of damage he managed to inflict on the room, cushioned him whenever he was thrown back by his own magic, and muffled the noise of his spells to a minimum.

His studies had mainly consisted of introduction to new shields, a few new curses, a bit more information on wards, and a rather heavy handed introduction to the darker aspect of magic. Not for his own use, of course, but theoretical knowledge that had horrified him beyond what he had previously thought possible.

It took one hour, two at most, until his firm believe that the three curses Imperio, Crucio, and Avada Kedavra were the worst of the lot, became uprooted. What he had read was even uglier than those and he shuddered when he thought back to the Edo Corpus curse and its three different variations.

Edo Corpus, that would make the victim believe that he was eaten alive and Edo Corpus Os, that would make mouths appear on the victims body so that he was truly eaten alive. The worst by far however was the Edo Corpus Coactum variant, which compelled the victim to eat itself. It was truly horrifying magic, aptly named the cannibal curse and he had no doubt at all that Voldemort had read about those particular curses.

Compared to such a fate, the killing curse seemed like mercy and he had wondered for a while why the three Unforgivable were considered as such when there were far more devastating curses to be found in the world. In retrospection Dumbledore's answer made sense. They couldn't be blocked and that was all there was to it. Sure, they were dangerous, dark and hurt their victims, but if someone managed to create a way to shield against them with pure magic... it wouldn't take long until they were just classified as highly punishable dark arts.

He wiped the sweat from his brow and was about to incant another spell when the door opened and Dumbledore strode into the room, a satisfied smile on his lips.

"I believe I have found a lead, Harry. There is an old store selling antiques at one of the outposts a few days travel away from Cairo."

"Good, I guess I'll come with you for this one?" Harry asked.

"Of course. I told you that you would accompany me as soon as I've found a more precise lead and I'm true to my word. Have you exhausted yourself much?"

"Nah, not really. How do we get there? Portkey again?"

Dumbledore frowned and pulled a piece of parchment out of his robes. "Unfortunately I only managed to get this crude map. We will apparate as near as possible to our destination and walk the rest of the way."

It didn't take long for Harry to get ready and with a nearly inaudible sound they vanished from their room.

"This method of travel is even worse than using Portkeys, professor." Harry stated, feeling as if he was about to puke any second. Indeed, side-along apparition was an unpleasant sensation and he sincerely hoped that the normal process of apparating was different. The headmaster, as always, only chuckled and observed him with amusement.

"With experience it won't bother you as much, but I have to agree. Apparation, while highly useful, was never my preference either," Dumbledore explained. "I believe that we have to walk for a few hours, Harry, so keep your eyes open and take in the wonders of the world."

And in the hours they walked, Harry did just that. Non-magical people would have been sorely lacking in amusement though as for a good portion of their walk nothing but sand upon sand was to be seen. What made it interesting for the sophisticated wizard however were the magically protected areas they had to cross in order to reach their destination.

At some points he had felt Muggle-repelling wards wash over him and the dull picture of a desert changed completely. Mountains sprung up where there were none before, sometimes a few sources of water even, generated by ancient magic and overseen by ministry personal. Animals, magical ones at that, could be seen often and the headmaster was nice enough to answer any question that he had about them.

"Those are Lareezes, Harry. They are very proud so be careful never to insult one," Dumbledore explained as he pointed to an animal.

Harry looked over and snorted. "Those are camels, professor. Why didn't we just ride one of those?"

"Ride them? Godness, Harry, what gave you such a bizarre idea! Their humps are filled with poison. Can you imagine the disaster it would bring were you ride them?"

He tried not to laugh – he really did, but the shocked expression of the headmaster was just hilarious and as if a dam had broken, his laughter bubbled up. "I don't know if they're the same, but if they are then muggles have ridden them for thousands of years already, professor."

"Truly?"

"Yes, it was the preferred way to travel through the desert. Some even refer to them as 'desert ships'," explained Harry.

"Riding Lareezes indeed, simply marvelous! I wonder if they truly are the same, or if the species has divided itself into magical and non-magical over the centuries."

"We could make an experiment," Harry said and pondered on the matter. "Why don't we try to ride one? If it works then they're the same, and if not then they're different."

Dumbledore suddenly looked a bit green around the nose and quickly led Harry away from the grazing herd of Lareezes. "I think we will have to conduct that experiment at another time, Harry. First we need to reach our destination."

And so they walked on, still observing the nature around them, but always in motion. Harry even saw a Bicorn, one of the creatures he had slain during the third task, lazily and peacefully grazing on a patch of grass. Soon another ward washed over them, obscuring the view of mountains, water and grass, and instead they found themselves back in the hot and dry desert.

Their march continued for another half and hour until they finally reached the outpost, an odd assortment of four buildings. It wasn't hard to guess the building's purposes either, because large plaques indicated what they were used for. The large Gringotts sign obviously stood for the Goblin bank, the large goblet wasn't hard either and indicated a pub of some sorts. Harry guessed that the plaque with a grain symbol stood for a store that sold equipment, and the last sign, an hourglass, was probably the shop the headmaster had mentioned.

"That must be the shop, Harry. Now let's talk to this knowledgeable man that might have our information," Dumbledore said and walked with quick strides toward the shop with the hourglass. The headmaster knocked politely on the door and the voice from the inside beckoned them into the shop.

And what a shop it was, littered with odd knick-knacks and books that were seemingly from all around the globe. He spied a few books with rather gruesome titles and even saw a Hand of Glory, the item Malfoy had wanted in their second year when Harry had hid in the small cabinet at Borgin and Burkes.

"What can I do for you, gentlemen?" The portly man behind the counter asked.

"My apprentice and me are looking for legends and myths about resurrection," the headmaster answered jovially and Harry had to suppress his emotions from showing. Why did Dumbledore state something like that so openly? Although Harry could be cunning occasionally, he wasn't really a sly or sneaky person, but this was blunt – really blunt, even for his standard.

"Resurrection? My goodness man, why would you ever look for something like that? That's rather dangerous territory you're moving on," the man said.

"We're working for the British Institute of Ancient Magic History and we're currently undergoing a field study of ancient Egyptian wizards. Of course, resurrection features quite heavily into your countries culture so every bit you know would help, good sir," Dumbledore said and Harry was somewhat astounded by the smooth lies that left the headmaster's mouth. "But where are my manners! My name is Cornelius Dufge and this is my apprentice Doloran Umbrage, at your service."

Harry nearly choked on his spit as he heard the name and it was quite difficult to keep the twitch in his left eye under control. Cornelius Dufge, really? Nonetheless he nodded eagerly and behaved exactly like he thought a history apprentice should behave.

"It's incredible, sir! By Merlin I just heard about the Hathorn celebrations that took place in Bubastis in the past! Simply marvelous. I can't wait to delve deeper into the mystery that is Egypt!" Harry said, having a lot of fun offering his contribution to the cause.

"Well... yes, I suppose I can tell you a bit then. You see, there's this tomb not far from here, but every time I try to get some of the adventurers or cursebreakers to look into it they just brush me aside. An old, babbling man I am to them! They say that if it is this close to an outpost it's already excavated, but I know it isn't! I'm pretty sure that if you look for history and myths about resurrection, you'll find at least something there," the man said, waving his hands wildly through the air.

"If you tell us where it is then we're going to take a look," Dumbledore replied, still in a nearly hurtful chipper mood.

"Of course, of course. I was there once, you see? I can give you the apparation coordinates. Didn't go in though. Not that I'm scared, no, no, but I'm no cursebreaker. I like my life!"

"Understandable, of course. We'll have to be extra careful in the tomb then," Dumbledore said and waited patiently until the man finished writing down the coordinates and gave him the piece of parchment.

"Thank you, kind sir. We're on our way then."

It was a testament to Harry's mental fortitude that he managed to hold himself together so well, but as soon as they were a respectable distance away from the shop he burst out laughing, sputtering and wheezing.

"Cornelius Dufge, professor? I don't know whether to cry or laugh about that," he said.

"Laughing is obviously the better choice my young history apprentice," Dumbledore replied chuckling. "Anyway, it's still early in the day so I think we should visit the tomb and see if there's anything that could help us. Please take my arm, Harry."

Harry did so, and true to the headmaster's words, the second time didn't seem to be even half as bad. A lecherous grind stretched over his face. It had been awhile since he had heard it, but a few years ago there had been some kind of joke that he hadn't understood at that age. Now, however, he did.

The first time always hurt.

"Bombarda!"

The first thing Harry did upon arriving was to listen to his instinct that basically screamed at him to jump. The hairs on his neck rose and he quickly dove behind a rock, barely avoiding the explosion that had rocked the point where he had just stood.

He saw that Dumbledore had simply sidestepped the curse and a silvery shield protected him from the flying sand and debris. Someone was attacking them! The headmaster shouted something at him, but Harry only saw the man's lip move, to loud were the drums of war pounding in his ears. A bloodthirsty grin stretched his face as he noticed the vicious rhythm.

Finally! He had nearly forgotten the feeling, the ecstasy of battle. How could he? How could he have ever forgotten this glorious feeling.

Harry jumped away from the stone as it was smashed to pieces and then the field was alight with colors. Dumbledore could handle himself, he was sure, and so he searched some opponents for himself. It could even been called giddiness that surged through him as he found three wizards that weren't currently occupied with the headmaster...

"Debiles Fulmen! Reducto! Sagitta! Percutere!" Curse after curse left his wand and he was excited to see his enemies erect shields in time.

Oh, it would be fun!

The small electric strike crashed against the blue shield doing nothing, and so did the Reducto and the Percutere, but his third curse, Sagitta, hit home and the arrow clipped one of them on the leg. Smiling viciously, Harry walked forward and batted away the incoming curses, sometimes even casting a shield charm when they were particularly strong or dark.

His wand was in constant motion and he transfigured everything that was large enough and was lying around on the battlefield. Rocks became boars, debris, the result of many curses, became flocks of birds and shrubbery developed a life of its own as it constricted their movements whenever possible.

"Incendio! Ignis Flagellum!" A constant stream of fire battered their shields and when it was nearly breaking, Harry's wand became a fiery whip that sent them scurrying out of the way.

"Crucio!"

He jumped out of the way of the Unforgivable and narrowed his eyes. Until now the curses had been dark, but still fairly easy to deflect. A crucio was another matter altogether and he had no intention of feeling that particular curse again after the fake Moody had nearly killed him with it during the third task.

He directed his whip, avoiding another two of the curses and sidestepped a beam of green light that looked eerily familiar. His whip wound itself around the legs of one of them and soon they were heavily burned. That man wouldn't be walking anytime soon.

It took another five minutes until he had finally finished off the last of his opponents and turned toward Dumbledore who sat calmly on top a heap of bound and silenced men, sipping from a flask that looked suspiciously filled with alcohol.

"Not bad, Harry. Still needs some work and you took quite long, but you're getting there," the headmaster said and placed his goblet on the head of one of his frozen victims. "Anyway, this was clearly an ambush. Cleverly concocted if I say so myself and it probably would have worked against anyone but us. The shop owner isn't really innocent either if you're wondering."

"Are we going back to the old man and have some words with him?" Harry asked.

"No, that would be a waste of time," Dumbledore said and explained it further. "But he doesn't know that and the fear that we might come back will punish him quite well, I think."

"So, back to Cairo?"

"Yes, my boy, back to Cairo it is," Dumbledore said and rose from his human throne, looking for all intents and purpose like a dark lord. It was a thought that inwardly made Harry giggle like a little girl.

When they arrived back in Cairo, another shock was waiting for them. Half a dozen of men and women in white robes and adorned with a red trims lingered around their 'hotel', asking questions. It was quite clear that the Aurors of Egypt were onto them and that definitely wasn't a pleasant thought.

"Well, it seems as if you really managed to get their attention, Harry."

"What do we do now, professor?" Harry asked uncertain.

The headmaster's brows furrowed as he thought about it and Harry was amazed by the change of emotions that showed on Dumbledore's face. In the end he looked resigned.

"I will apparate us to an old acquaintance of mine. One I hadn't hoped to meed again..."

"Do you dislike him?"

"Not exactly... you will see what I mean when we are there," Dumbledore answered and with a soft popping sound they left the place.

"Albus Dumbledore, you really have some nerve to come here after over five decades!"

"Hello Berenib, I'm gla-"

A slap echoed through the house and the woman, quite an old one at that, laid into the mighty Albus Dumbledore with all her being. "Don't Berenib me you ancient relic! I haven't forgotten how you just disappeared to the continent. Probably gallivanting around with that bag of dragon dung, Grindelwald!"

Harry was grinning like a madman at that point, until something quite bizarre caught his eyes. Slender legs, a neatly trimmed triangle, a belly piercing, round melons and to round it off, a smoldering gaze accentuated by long black hair. The naked woman grabbed his ass and leaned over to him.

"Hi there, handsome," she said and Harry had to admit that while it was quite the pleasant sight, he felt slightly bewildered.

That was, until he finally took the time to look at the room he was standing in. Red walls, red cushions, red candles, red drapes, the heavy smell of incense lingered in the air... yep, somehow he felt right at home here.

"Hi, a pleasure to be here," he said and cast another glance around the room. There were other women too, either naked or in various states of undress. Quite exotic, if he said so himself. Harry wasn't a racist, but usually his interest in black woman was rather limited. The one in the far corner to his right however had the biggest breasts he had ever seen, and sweet Maeve, they weren't even sagging.

Magic was simply wonderful.

The shouts of fury brought him back to reality and he looked over to Dumbledore who was still trying to argue with the old woman that called herself Berenib. It was probably the mother, he mused while immensely enjoying the shoulder massage the naked beauty behind him offered.

"Professor," he called over the shouting and directed the attention of both ancients to him. Dumbledore's eyes widened momentarily as he saw Harry. "Please don't argue with the nice mother and apologize. I like it here and it's quite rude to barge in and start shouting in a stranger's home."

The headmaster looked flabbergasted for a moment, and the mother next to him was laughing in between wheezing breaths.

"Your apprentice, I take it? Hehe, I like him,"she said and nudged the headmaster not so gently in the stomach. The old crone seemed to have quite a lot of strength if the headmaster's bent over posture was anything to go by.

"Well, yes... Berenib, might we stay here for a few days?" Dumbledore asked.

"Grovel at my feet for a few days and I'll let you stay," she cackled in response. It was quite bizarre when Dumbledore jumped up and was about to leave until Harry's iron glare firmly locked him into place. Never before had the wizened man felt so stared down in his century long life.

Another cackle escaped Berenib and she clapped her hands twice. "Girls, we have visitors! Wine, fruits, music and company! You know the spiel."

The women shed the rest of their clothing, at least those that weren't naked already. With a mighty grin he looked over to his headmaster and saw that the man was decidedly uneasy, but Harry shrugged it off. It wasn't any of his business.

Egypt - 9. July 1995

The last six days had been the most pleasurable, memorable and enjoyable he had in his life so far. Days were spent lazing around, listening to the girl's tales, playing cards and dices with them and enjoying their company in any capacity he could.

Any.

Sure, it might have been prudent to study more, especially after the headmaster had urged him to, but somehow the thought of dusty old tomes wasn't nearly as appetizing as the nubile flesh that was around him all day now. A few words of choice from Bernib had left Dumbledore a stuttering mess afterward and Harry was free to enjoy the days in peace.

With a content sigh he sunk deeper into the abnormally large cushion and opened his mouth, greedily accepting the grape that Kiya had just offered him. A few sensual licks of her fingers later and she settled down next to him, quite naked and laughing softly when she noticed his undisguised leer. The strong smell of incense was only strengthened by the puffs of smoke that he periodically emitted from his pipe.

Honestly, if it weren't for Voldemort he would probably never accept to leave this place again. As it was however, Harry knew that the days of pleasure would be over soon. Every day, Dumbledore returned with just a bit more smugness in his smile and he knew that it wouldn't take much longer for the headmaster to find another lead.

Speak of the devil and the devil may come...

Just as he wanted to bring his thoughts about ravishing Kiya into reality, the door to his room opened and the headmaster strode in. Dumbledore's disapproving stare met an innocent shrug and after a few seconds long stalemate, Harry cracked a grin and the headmaster shook his head bemused.

"I fear the good times are coming to an end, my boy. I just swallowed a small dose of liquid luck potion and overheard quite an interesting conversation a few alleys away. Get ready, Harry, we're moving out soon."

Harry sighed deeply and gave Kiya's left breast a good squeeze, eliciting a squeal. "Where to, professor? I'd like to know our destination this time," he said.

"A few hundred miles to the south west of Cairo an excavation was suddenly aborted and the whole team left the newly discovered tomb as quickly as possible. Why is not known, but it is the best lead we currently have."

Harry nodded and rose from his cushion. The time for pleasure was over and now the hard work would begin anew.

Egypt - 10. July 1995

"Here it is, Harry. Can you feel it? Can you feel the magic?" Dumbledore asked as he walked toward a place that would look like just another area of sand to an outsider. His voice was reverent and he wore a benign smile. In truth, Harry thought that Dumbledore seemed to belong to places such as this. The concentration of magic in the air was incredibly high, maybe even higher than in Hogwarts, and like a moth drawn to the flame he couldn't help himself but walk toward it, completely unaware of the amusement that shone in Dumbledore's eyes.

Harry lifted his hand and although he wasn't able to see it, he certainly felt the magic as it wove around his fingers like water, neither feeling dark nor light, neither welcoming nor resisting him.

"It draws us in, does it not? Century old, no, millennium old magicks saturate this place. Some wizards, Harry, visit places like this and don't feel a thing. To sense it, to feel it in its entirety makes us privileged. Don't you think so?"

"Yes," Harry answered, still not believing he was actually in Egypt, one of the first places where magic came to be.

"Do you want to see it? Go even further beyond the incredible sensation?"

Harry turned around, his tone was pleading. "Please... if there is a way to... it's- it's incredible."

"I don't think your mage sight has developed just yet, but there is a spell I learned a long time ago. I can't hold it too long as it is rather exhausting, but you will be able to see... for a short moment that is."

"Please," Harry asked again. He wanted to, no, he had to see it. Had to verify with his own eyes that this sensation was real and not just a figment of his imagination.

"Very well," Dumbledore said and pulled his wand out of his robes.

"Sérat ûn Æthølōs - Ařwãƾ nøs Løđioch," the headmaster's voice rumbled in a deep timbre, and Harry felt it before he saw it. Incredible amounts of magic converged around the older man, his robes and beard whipping around in a wind that hadn't been there seconds ago. The wand moved in patterns he had never seen before, tracing symbol after symbol into the air.

"Are you ready? Ready to see farther than you ever did, to get a glimpse of what was hidden from us mere mortals so many aeons ago?" Dumbledore asked, or rather shouted over the howling wind.

"Yes!", Harry shouted back, his message nearly lost amongst the noise.

"So be it - Løđioch as Åchâmøn!"

Magic responded to the headmaster's call, brought its full might upon the two souls that wanted to watch it in all its glory. Like waves, the currents of magic shifted around them, became visible and hypnotized them with their beauty. Golden mist swirled around them, forming clouds, releasing itself and vanishing into nothingness again just to start the cycle anew.

He had tears in his eyes, didn't dare to speak in fear that it would scare the magic away. Tentatively his hand reached out and just as hesitant the magic of the place touched him, judging him and his intentions. Blood and sweat, the life of hard work as it was built, death and decay as its intended members were laid to rest. He didn't see the tomb, but felt how it was built through the magicks that now surrounded him. The intentions of casters, dead for thousands of years, swept into him and it was as beautiful as it was awe inspiring.

Just as fast as it came the feeling and magic vanished. His sight returned to its normal state...

And, all that was left was a profound sense of longing – of belonging.

Harry turned to his mentor and saw the man kneeling on the ground in exhaustion, his knees tremblings and his hair and beard in disarray. Yet when Dumbledore directed his eyes to him there was nothing in his gaze but pure joy.

Joy that was able to brighten even the darkest days.

Slowly Dumbledore stood up and although the man had to fight hard to keep himself upright, he radiated a sense of contentedness that was hard to describe.

"Ah, Harry, my boy," he whispered and Harry walked over to help the man. "It has been far too long since I last witnessed it. Indeed, I feel like I've just met with long lost family."

"Sir, I-" Harry searched for words, but found none. What he had just seen was beyond any description.

"I know, Harry. Believe me, I know. My sight allows me to see something similar, if severely dulled, when I wish to, but... to once again see it completely – it renders a man speechless, leaves us in awe, does it not?"

Harry nodded and when he saw that the headmaster had still problems standing up he quickly reached to his belt – the Belt of Hypolytos – and fetched a bottle of Pepper-up potion. Dumbledore took it gratefully and seconds later he was able to once again stand under his own power.

"Will I be able to see it again?" Harry asked.

"I have no doubt that you will, my boy. Once the opportunity arises and the occasion calls for it, never doubt that you will see it again. Now, lets pass through the illusion of sand and see what you just felt," Dumbledore said and with quick strides they walked through the Illusion ward.

Here, in magical Egypt, it was much more believable that such a thing existed than in the bazaar of Izmir.

They wandered through rows of abandoned tents, once belonging to the base of operation of the investigation and cursebreaking team, until they stopped before a nondescript building.

"Stairs," Harry whispered as he inspected the building. "I guess those lead to the tomb."

"Right you are, Harry. From now on please follow my lead exactly," Dumbledore said and cast a glance around the campsite. "The people who researched this didn't leave in an orderly fashion. I believe it was more of a hastened abandonment wrought in fright and terror."

Harry couldn't help himself and a shiver of anticipation ran over his spine. "Do you think we'll have troubles?"

"Oh yes, of that I have no doubt, but we should be fine as long as we are careful."

Dumbledore took the first step into the darkness and Harry followed obediently. The strange glow in his eyes went unnoticed as he contemplated the peaceful sensation he felt despite the danger the tomb would bring.

AN: Egypt is apparently quite the ride for our hero. Anyway, here is a summary of the new magicks:

Sérat ûn Æthølōs - Ařwãƾ nøs Løđioch / A charm of power to allow a person a short glimpse into pure magic

Ignis Flagellum - Firewhip

Edo Corpus Curses - Cannibal Curses

Lareezes - Camels, or maybe even their magical equivalent

Hope you had fun, and I'll try to update soon!