A/N: thanks again for all the reviews, people!!!!
Oh my, you can't imagine how much I envy you right now! If only I lived in the US or the UK!!! I suppose many of you have already seen the film – good for you. I have to wait for another 25 days! Life isn't fair!!!! *big sigh* All I can do now is listen to the soundtrack… over and over and over… Williams really did a great job with it.
Reemaski: you wrote: "JK would be proud." Wow! That was the greatest compliment I could get! Thank you!
Zoozoonee: I hope you did well on your exam! I'd feel really bad if I was the reason why you got bad marks at school :-)
Waldomier: No, I can't speak Egyptian, nor Arab – so the street names is in this chapter don't mean anything, I just made them up. All I know in Arab is "Yallah!", which means "hurry up!"
Amanda: you asked about Draco. My answer is "well, kind of" :-)
jabberwalkie and Dragonessa Smith: I appreciate your suggestions for the baby's name but I already know what he/she will be called and don't intend to change it.
Lexi, Anti Cho Queen ((does this mean that you hate Cho??? I for one detest her.)) Anyway, I didn't mention with a single word that Lucius died….
ickleyoda: I'm happy that you liked Gilderoy! I love that guy! He's so funny! ((you are also an SW fan, aren't you? There are so many of us, even here in the HP section of ffnet!))
janus melina: why Dallas??? Simply because I love its main theme, and used to like the series too, when I was ten. You were surprised that a 17 year old could hum its melody – well, why not? Even Dudley could have heard it from his parents, couldn't he? (Anyway, this little detail wasn't supposed to be important in the story.)
April Rane: thanks for your compliment on my grammar skills. It's always nice to hear that I'm quite good in English…
And now, on to chapter 17!
Chapter 17
Arabian nights
It was December the second when the first snow fell on Hogwarts. The meadow and the trees of the Forbidden Forest were covered with a cold, white layer that glittered in the winter sunshine. The water of the lake had frozen the night before, and now it reflected the rays of the sun just like a polished mirror.
Ginny was sitting in a window, watching the sunshine dance on the fields. Everything seemed to be happy and bright, but in her heart there was nothing but darkness. She hadn't heard anything about her love for more than two weeks now. She was determined not to give up hope, but every passing day, hour and minute without Harry was hell for her. She wasn't that sure about ever seeing Harry again. She wasn't sure whether he'd ever come back to her.
Of course she had no idea about Harry's amnesia, because Dumbledore didn't tell them about it. The old headmaster didn't want to worry them even more. Neither did her parents inform her and Ron about the article they had read in a Muggle newspaper, because they eventually came to the conclusion that the boy at the photo wasn't Harry.
Now, two weeks after the 'de-journalisting', the students of Hogwarts started to realise that the famous Harry Potter was still absent. They began to ask Ginny, Ron and Hermione about his whereabouts, but these three refused to tell them the truth. It had to be kept a secret as long as possible. However, it wasn't easy, especially not when pupils started to question Harry's devotion to Ginny, saying that he might have got scared and ran away. Sometimes even Ginny inclined to believe this absurd theory – usually by night, when she had no one to turn to, no one to pour her heart out to. She often cried herself into sleep, and dreamed about Harry every single night. In her dreams he always looked happy, smiled and waved to her yelling that he loved her more than life itself.
Now the coldness of the snow outside couldn't be compared with the coldness in the youngest Weasley's heart. Gazing out on the fields, she wished to be in a particularly warm place… for example Egypt.
* * * * *
Little did Ginny know that at the same time she was thinking of her lost love, a certain boy in the far Egypt was also deeply immersed in his thoughts. He – Harry – who else? - was sitting under a palm-tree in an oasis, watching the camels drink from a puddle. It wasn't something too interesting to watch, but looking at those animals calmed him down so that he could think. He needed to think.
The events of the previous week had been more than enough for him. He was totally worn out.
A week earlier he and his crazy friend had still been at the police station of Great Winging, in the very far Great Britain. Then – he didn't understand at first, how – they got here. All he knew was that Gilderoy had taken him by the hand… in the first second they were in England, in the next one in the middle of a dune-sea. He remembered to have extremely been shocked by the sight of the infinite desert around them.
"Where on earth are we?" he had asked his companion. "Egypt? How in hell have we got here, Gilderoy?"
"By magic, of course." the blonde man let go of his hand, dusted off the sand of his clothes with a smug grin on his handsome face.
"Magic, sure." Harry sighed. "Did you not intend to bring us to Egypt?"
"That's exactly what I've done, kid." the man smiled, using his hands to shield his eyes from the burning rays of the desert sun. "Well, I guess I've miscalculated our jump a bit."
"A bit?" the boy exclaimed. "Man, you have brought us into the middle of the Sahara! Not into Cairo or some other civilised place… now would you please make another 'jump' and transport us directly to your friend, Abyss Sunny Amon?"
"Abysmal sun-Amun." Gilderoy corrected him. "But you have to admit now that there IS something like magic."
"Okay, okay, right, there is." the boy sighed. "Then would you bring us to your… um, wizard friend?"
"Who? Where?" Lockhart's face abruptly changed into the usual idiotic expression he used to wear when having a new attack of his selective amnesia.
"Oh, no! Not again! Not now!" Harry slapped his forehead. "Gilderoy, Gilderoy, remember! You're a wizard! You brought us here! You have to bring us elsewhere… immediately!"
Lockhart looked around, shaking his head. "Blimey, what dreary place this is! It's unbearably hot, don't you think? It isn't good for my hairdo. Oh, by the way, my name is…" he stretched out his hand, "…gosh, I don't remember!"
*Here we go again…* the boy sighed inwardly and began to inform Lockhart about the events of the last two weeks. As usual, the man didn't believe a word of his.
"Okay, then don't believe me, but please, get us outta this desert, will ya?"
"You are asking me to do the impossible!" Lockhart kept shaking his blonde head.
"It's NOT impossible, Gilderoy! I've seen you do it! You are capable of it!"
"I'm sorry, kid. It looks like we're stuck here." he sat down and started to build a sandcastle. "Shit, no water for it."
"No water for us, either." the boy reminded him.
"Oh, don't worry, we won't need it. When nightfall comes it will be freezing around here. You won't feel like drinking, kid." Gilderoy explained.
"Freezing? Cool. Just what we need now." Harry kicked into Lockhart's half-ready sandcastle. He sank down into the sand next to Gilderoy. He let out a resigned sigh. It seemed that they were condemned to death if the wizard's memory didn't deign to come back within a few hours. But there was not much hope for that.
About four hours later, as the sun started to dive behind the horizon, painting the sky with all colours of yellow, orange and red, the boy suddenly looked up. "Look, Gilderoy! A caravan!"
"Where?" the blonde man blinked, so worn out from the terrible heat and the lack of water that he didn't even feel strong enough to open his eyes.
"There! About a mile away!" Harry pointed his finger at the small figures moving on the ridge of a far dune. "Come on, we've got to reach them!"
"They are moving too fast on their camels. We'd never catch up with them." Gilderoy sighed. "If only we could send them a sign…"
"A sign?" the boy's eyes widened. "A sign!" he reached into the pocket of his robe and grabbed his wand. *I don't know how to use this thing, but if Gilderoy is a wizard, then I also must be one! I must try this!* he told himself and made some flips with the 'staff'. It produced some red and gold sparks. "Yessss!" he yelled excitedly and started to make bigger loops with his wand, every nerve in his body concentrating on the act. However, the wand didn't give any signs of wanting to eject bigger sparks that could be also visible for the members of the caravan. Meanwhile, the sun totally disappeared behind the horizon. There was no chance anymore to get noticed by the travellers in daylight, and the boy was sure that his weak little flakes wouldn't attract any attention.
"Give it up, boy, it isn't worth the trouble." Gilderoy sighed.
"NO!" Harry kept swishing his wand. *A spell, there has to be a spell or something!* his mind reeled, trying to remember. "Um, light? Er, no. Brightness? Nay. Luminosity?" the wand started to shudder. "Almost, huh? Lumi… lumi what? Or Lumo? Lumos?" suddenly the brightest white flames appeared on the tip of his wand. "That's it!" he yelled and started to wave the wand with the fire on its end in the nightly darkness. *They have to notice it! They have to!*
They did. Twenty minutes later the boy and his blonde companion were given water and a spare camel by the leader of the caravan.
"My name be Ali Ababwa." the bearded man introduced himself. "I learn English, speak it. Who you are?"
"We are two unfortunate travellers, sir." Harry replied. "My companion's name is Gilderoy Lockhart, but I cannot tell you mine, because I don't remember it."
"Not remember?" Ali knitted his eyebrows. "Why?"
"I lost all my memories, sir, about two weeks ago." Harry answered.
"And friend yours, there?" the Arab asked. "He remembers name?"
"Oh, he has a selective amnesia. But please let me explain it later." the boy said, frantically waving his wand, trying to put out the light. He simply couldn't. Harry tried to blow it away, but the flame burned on persistently.
"Say Nox." Gilderoy yawned.
"Huh?" Harry blinked, then shrugged. It was worth a try. "Nox."
The flame went out and Harry was eternally grateful that Gilderoy accidentally remembered the right spell.
* * * * *
Thanks to Ali Ababwa and his caravan, Harry and Gilderoy reached the oasis Murzuk in three days. They spent two days there to recover their strength for the upcoming big journey to Cairo, where they had to find Abysmal sun-Amun, the wizard, who allegedly was an expert on amnesiac cases. Fortunately Lockhart regained some of his memories in Murzuk and was very eager to see his old friend again.
Harry, sitting under a palm-tree, watching the camels drink, was thinking about his magical deed back in the desert. He still couldn't believe that he actually implemented a charm. He started to believe that he really was a sorcerer.
Suddenly something heavy, landing on the top of his head, shook him out of his reveries.
"Ouch!" he yelled and looked up to see a small monkey at the tree. "Hey, stop that, pal, will ya?" he shouted. "Bombarding people with bananas isn't a nice thing to do!"
The monkey gave out a funny voice, sounding like chuckling. "Are you laughing at me?" Harry jumped up from his sitting position and grabbed the animal by its tail. "Got you, you little imp!" he smirked. The monkey looked surprised then started to snigger and point his little fingers downwards. Harry looked down and gulped.
He had somehow jumped up into the foliage, five metres from the ground. People gathered around the palm-tree, murmuring excitedly.
"How have I done this?" Harry asked the monkey, but it didn't reply, just shrugged.
"We've got to get down from here." Harry said. "And explain this to those people under us. Whew, you've got me into trouble, you know it, don't you?"
A mischievous grin spread on the monkey's face.
"Okay. I start to climb down - you stay calm and don't throw bananas on me, OK?" Harry told the animal, as though it had been intelligent enough to comprehend his words.
As Harry reached the ground, he immediately got surrounded by people frantically blabbering in a funny language - surely Arab, gesticulating with their hands.
"Sorry, I don't understand." Harry shook his head.
"They saying you are magician." Ali Ababwa helped him out.
"Magician?" the boy laughed. "Rubbish!" he felt uneasy - he had just persuaded himself, that he was a wizard, and now had to deny it.
"People here believe magic a lot." Ali explained. "They never seen magic, but believe it… oh, look, your friend wake up!" he pointed his finger at a blonde figure coming out of the local 'hotel', that consisted of three dirty rooms and a dining room full of flies.
"Good morning, Gilderoy!" Harry greeted him.
"Hello." Lockhart waved his hand, smiling. "What beautiful day we have! Though the desert air isn't good for my sensitive skin… oh, well, I'll have to buy hydrating creams in Cairo. Ah, Mr. Abu, when are we going to set off for Cairo?"
"Tomorrow, Mr. Lockhart." Ali answered. "You know Cairo well?"
"What? Cairo? Who's going to Cairo?" Gilderoy looked around, confused. Neither Harry, nor Ali got surprised this time - they already got used to Lockhart's sudden relapses.
When being in his 'remembering-stages', Gilderoy managed to recall some interesting details about his past: he remembered his grandma curling his hair when he was a four-year-old child; he remembered the thirteen girls' names, who were in love with him in the kindergarten; he remembered to have been bombarded by a hundred owls on every Valentine's Day; and remembered having written a dozen books about deeds that he 'stole' from others. (Though he never mentioned this to Harry.)
However, he didn't remember a single day of his stay at Hogwarts, neither did he recall any of his students. He never even found Harry familiar.
Harry thought that he'd already have gone crazy in Gilderoy's place - always forgetting everything, always recalling new things - it had to drive one crazy.
Harry was happy, though, that Gilderoy didn't want to try another 'jump' in any of his remembering stages. He was sure that they'd get to Cairo much safer with the caravan. Harry simply didn't want to turn up in Namibia next time.
* * * * *
"…oh, and when I saw myself in the mirror, I told it: 'Mirror, mirror, on the wall, I'm the cutest guy of all!' And it answered: 'I looove modest people… especially when they are as handsome as you…' and then an eye appeared in the middle of the mirror, winking at me, followed by a text asking: 'Dinner tonight?' Do you get it, kid? Granny's old mirror fell in love with me! But this case was nothing compared to my adventure with the sirens. You know, they are beautiful creatures - not as beautiful, as me, though - who live on an island and enchant people with their song. So, I was sailing on the Mediterranean Sea, when I heard their song… um, kid…?"
Harry had fallen asleep.
* * * * *
Next day the caravan set off for Cairo. Gilderoy never stopped complaining about the swaying of the camels that made him nauseous, and about the monkey that kept jumping on his head, tousling his neatly arranged locks. The monkey that was getting on is nerves, was the same that had attacked Harry with bananas. To Lockhart's sheer disgust, the boy had befriended the monkey and given him the name Abu. Abu was a very vigorous little being, full of mischief - he somehow reminded Harry of someone, but he didn't know whom. Once, when Lockhart shouted that he was fed up with 'that ugly, peeving banana-gobbling furball', Harry was struck by a familiar feeling. *Peeving?* he thought. Ha had no idea why, but he felt a bit strange.
* * * * *
A week later they arrived at Cairo and said thanks and good-bye to Ali.
"And now?" Harry asked. "How are we gonna find that friend of yours in such a huge city? Cairo has more than eight million inhabitants! Do you know which quarter he lives in?"
"Quarter? What quarter?" Gilderoy frowned. "He lives in Malahalla al Manah ul Yalla."
"Where?" Harry gaped.
"Malahalla… er, just call it Systematic Alley."
"Huh?"
"Come, and don't ask. You'll see." Lockhart smiled smugly. Harry decided to follow him, hoping and praying that no attack of amnesia would hit Gilderoy before they reach their destination. He didn't want to get lost in one of the biggest cities on Earth.
On their way through the streets and markets they were 'attacked' by thousands of merchants, wanting to sell them copper necklaces, earthen wares and strange-smelling food.
Harry kept shaking his head: "No, thanks, not hungry… no, I usually don't wear earrings… no, what could I use it for?"
Finally the queue began to thin and Harry was surprised to see that they'd reached the riverside.
"Er, Gilderoy, what are we doing here?" he asked. "Is your friend a fisherman, or what?"
"Nay, he's working at the 'Let's save the Pyramids from over-curious Muggles League'."
"The what League?" Harry gaped. Lockhart had explained him what the word 'Muggle' meant, but he had never heard of a league with such a funny name.
"I'll tell you later." Gilderoy replied. "Come, we've got to get to the other bank of the Nile."
"The… the other bank?"
"Yes, into the cemetery."
Harry frowned. Either Lockhart had gone mad, or this Mr. sun-Amun was a gravedigger
"I need your wand for a second." Gilderoy stated.
"Why?" Harry gulped. He didn't want to be transported to Guatemala by a mistaken swish of Lockhart's hand. He was aware, though, that he couldn't get themselves to the other bank. He had to trust Gilderoy - at least a bit.
Since they didn't have Muggle money, they couldn't ask a fisherman to carry them over the Nile.
There was simply no other chance.
*Trust Gilderoy and pray.* Harry told himself and handed his wand to the blonde man. He squeezed his eyes shut and waited for a bang, and for some Papua-New-Guineans yelling that dinner has just arrived.
Nothing like that happened.
"Okay, we're here." He heard Lockhart's voice and carefully opened his eyes. Abu the monkey let out a hysteric squeal.
They were in the middle of a huge cemetery. The tombs with the gloomy air around them made Harry have the feeling that he'd spent some time in such a place before. For a second he expected to see a cauldron among the gravestones, but couldn't explain, why. He didn't want to mention it to Gilderoy, though - Gilderoy would think of some beneficial effects of cemeteries on the skin of face, and Harry was definitely in no mood for listening to the Lockhart-beauty-recipes.
"Okay, this is the one." The blonde man pointed at a crypt made of the same black stone as the obelisks around. He stepped to the door and knocked on it three times with Harry's wand.
Harry didn't know what to expect - a ghost telling them where to look for Mr. Sun-Amun, or rather a zombie with a scythe in the hand?
Neither of these appeared. No sooner had Lockhart knocked on the door, than it opened, leading them not into a dark crypt, but into a very noisy, full-of-colours street. As though the silence and gloominess of the graves had never even been there, Harry thought, stepping into the Malahalla al Manah ul Yalla, aka Systematic Alley. The magical gate behind their backs closed and disappeared, hiding its secret from the Muggle visitors of the Cairo cemetery.
"Now we only have to find 77. Systematic Alley. That's where Abysmal lives." Gilderoy turned to Harry, giving him his wand back.
Harry opened his mouth to reply, but no voice came out of it - he was too dumbfounded by the sight: the perfect image of a town from the Arabian Nights. On both sides of Systematic Alley merchants were offering their wares: not simple copper necklaces and spicy food, like in the Muggle Cairo, but flying carpets in all sizes and colours, turbans that changed their sizes according to he wearer's hat-size, talismans with the symbols of Isis, Thot, Osiris and all the other Egyptian gods, speaking replicas of Tutanhamon's death mask - available in three types: one that tells the exact time every half hour, one that keeps repeating ancient Egyptian curses, and one that knows all recipes of falafel (perfect gift for the wizarding housewives.)
Harry was dazzled by the thousand different colours, voices and smells mingling in the air, and didn't even know where to turn, what to look at - there were too many things to see. One of the merchants was offering him a collection of scarab beetles, another wanted to sell him a bouquet of desert roses (allegedly cures diarrhoea), a third one was keen on selling him a colour-changing fez (available in Abu's size as well), a fourth one wanted to thrust one of his enchanted lamps upon Harry (the bigger lamps, that contained genies, were offered for 100 galleons each, the smaller - fake - ones with camel-ghouls were available for fifty sickles.)
"Did… did you see that?" Gilderoy turned to Harry, his voice trembling. He was clearly in a 'forgetting-stage' again. "Mum… mummified cats… where on earth are we?"
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