The next day, Tiffany sat on the stairs of the temple, watching the sunrise. It hurt her eyes after a while, cos the sun's so bright, and hot, and stuff, so she stopped watching the sun. Smart move, girl. She made a small fire in front of the temple, narrowly avoiding burning the whole thing down, and waited until all members of the party were sitting by the fire before she spoke.

"Professor?" She asked. "Can you go see if there's anything to eat anywhere?"

"Well, I really would, what with my leg and all..."

"Oh, ANY excuse to get out of work. Just because you were impaled on a rusty iron spike, and you're probably septic, does not mean you can get out of your duties!"

Silently, McGonagall limped off into the jungle.

"So," Tiffany said to Sinthya. "Why did you want us to take you to Africa?"

"It's a long story."

"We have time."

"Ok. I was born of a long dynasty of African leaders. I became leader, and all was right with the world. We didn't have great tourism... I was known as Queen Sinthya the Intolerant, and I suppose that would scare off potential tourists. But that name was misleading, and only a shortened version – my true name is Queen Sinthya the Lactose Intolerant."

"That's great... but what does that have to do with anything?" Harry asked.

"Oh, you will see, youngling. You will see..."

-Start cruisy flashback mode...-

Sinthya ran along the stone tiles, her dress flying out behind her.

-End cruisy flashback mode...-

"What was that for?" Harry asked curiously.

"I wanted you to see my dress. Isn't it faboo?"

"Totally faboo." Tiffany agreed.

"Anyway. A group of people from the neighbouring country knew only of my shortened name – they thought that my country was being run by a tyrant who was intolerant, not lactose intolerant. They invaded my country... thought the people had been brainwashed when the said I was a good leader... Killed all that sought to oppose them. Many joined the ranks, as no matter who is leader of a country, there will be people that hate that leader and wish them dead. They stormed my beautiful palace... killed my husband, Antonio Banderas... trapped my children in the cellar... then burned down my house. It was horrible, watching it go down in flames. A loyal servant got me out of the house in time and prevented me from re-entering it when I was wrought with despair at my children's cries. The cellar would have gone up like a bale of hay – Antonio and I were extensive wine collectors. I needed to get to Africa so I could find Antonio Banderas' brother and marry him or whatnot. Anyway, no airline would take an exile, so I used my metamorphmagi skills to change into your friend... little did I know he was dead and it was all in vain..."

Tiffany blinked tears back, shocked at Sinthya's story.

"So un-faboo..." She murmured, not noticing McGonagall's return from the jungle. The professor was sporting a large gash on her stomach, and two fingers were missing, but over her shoulders there was a large Bengal tiger, which she had obviously killed with her bare hands.

"Breakfast." She grunted, and Sinthya set to work on building a makeshift wok to hold over the fire.

"Took you long enough." Tiffany muttered under her breath, as McGonagall set the tiger down on the stone, two bloody fingers rolling out of its mouth.

-----

"So, Sinthya," Tiffany said through mouthfuls of pirhana (sp?) that McGonagall had wrestled out of the nearby river; "Why don't you tell us more about yourself?"

"Well, I was born in Africa..."

"No, like, anecdotes or something. I like a good yarn."

"Here ya go." Sinthya said, tossing a ball of yarn over. Tiffany caught it and began playing with it.

"Seriously though." Tiffany said.

"Ankh." Sinthya said.

"Where?" Tiffany asked, dropping the ball of yarn.

"Made you look you dirty chook, hanging on a butcher's hook, all the little doggy-wogs will have a little... ergh..." Sinthya trailed off, looking embarrassed.

"Ok, I shot the elephant with those tranquillisers you gave me Tiff, but I think they were faulty because they didn't work and I had to strangle it to death..." McGonagall started.

"COUGHCOUGH Yes, well, the important thing is that it's dead, right guys?" Tiffany muttered.