Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Mummies Alive. I do own Leigh, and semi-own Jillian (whom is also owned by Jibs and is named in her honour) and Estelle.

Chapter 1: I saw King Tut walking down Bank Street

Magic lived deep in the shadowed grey wells of Leigh Goodfellow's eyes. It's pulsed and flowed through every vain in the young woman's body. Friends laughed good-naturedly at her, paradoxically calling her an odd mundane.

However, Leigh was not mundane…

Leigh Goodfellow walked down Back Street, pushing her slightly longer than shoulder length red hair out of her face. She shifted her nearly-but-not-just-quite-yet-full backpack into a more comfortable position. Had she missed any thing? Ink, Jillian's new spell book, several packages of loose leaf lined paper, powdered mandrake for Estelle, a new copy of Charles de Lint's 'Moonhart' (someone had spilt coffee all over her last one and still hadn't owed up -but she had found ten bucks on her dresser with a note saying 'Sorry'), cream cheese, some of the materials needed for amulet making, red thread, bandages and a tube of toothpaste… She knew she was missing something! Think, Leigh! Come on, what was it?

It continued to elude her as she turned off Riverdell onto Bank Street. And through she was thinking about it hard, the missing item was completely driven from her mind when she looked up to a peculiar sight (peculiar even for Ottawa); a man dressed in linen, strips of it wrapped around his body, the rich gold and jewelled ornaments he wore offsetting his unadorned white clothing. He was talking to a eight-foot-tall, bear like creature, who seemed to be wearing little more than a tee-shirt with the 'Bud Light' logo across the front and his own shaggy brown pelt (which was thankfully sufficient cover), and had a camera slung round his bull-think neck. They had their heads together, bent over an unruly map, talking quietly.

Feeling her eyes, the man lifted his head. He was fairly young, in his early twenties perhaps, and looked as if he'd stepped out of the pages of one of her 'Ancient Egypt' reference books. He waved at her.

Dumbfound she did the only thing she could; she waved back.

"Hey!" shouted the young man from across the street, "Could you tell me how to get to the NAC?"

Leigh limped into the apartment, planning to take a painkiller or three to banish the shin splint pains shooting through her right leg and the beginnings of a migraine.

Their apartment was almost too small to contain very thing they'd stuffed into it. It had five rooms; the bathroom, the bedroom (which the three of them all shared), two studies (which were supposed to be bedrooms), and the main room that served as a living room, dining room, a kitchen and an entrance hall all at once.

Jillian was there, sitting in a low desk in the corner of the room. She looked up from her work and smiled cheerfully, pen tip resting against the blue lined paper. "Hey!" she piped, oblivious to the ink blotch forming around the ink stained nib, "How was your day?"

Leigh paused thoughtfully, her backpack in one hand, her coat in the other. "Oh…not bad," she said nonchalantly, "I got you that book you were after. Ran into Ted. Said 'hi.' Bought some more toothpaste… Oh, and I just happened to see King Tut walking down Bank street. So, you know…just a plain old, average day."

"Tut?" enquired Jill, grinning, "Asking if Air Canada could get him back to Egypt by 3000B.C.?"

"No. Asking Bigfoot for directions to the NAC (A/N: National Arts Centre, in Ottawa, Ontario). So, how's that paper coming?"

"Good. It's--" Jillian cut off with a little shriek, jerking her essay out from beneath the old fashioned ink pen. She examined the black spot, dismally. "Oh, shit," she muttered, "Not again…"

Leigh gave her wryly look and, taking a small, recycled nail polish bottle down from a near by shelf, handed the witch the ink remover Estelle had made for exactly this purpose.

"Thanks," said Jillian ruefully, excepting the vessel, "Guess it really helps to have a Mage around here, eh?"

"It does."

Jillian used the nail polish brush to spread the translucent green liquid over the inkblots and smudges. The solution would dry clear and take the ink with it. Replacing the cap, she took a look a Leigh's face, "You were being serious about the King Tut thing, weren't you?"

The other teenager nodded, "I usually am."

Jill put her elbows on the desk and studied Leigh's face for any hint of cynicism. Jillian was a pretty girl, blond hair pulled back in a neat bun, her blue eyes clear and bright. Wearing a loose fitting tank top, a red skirt and a pair of Estelle's big woollen socks (-why, Leigh didn't know-), Jill was obviously having one of those 'laze-around-the-house-and-eat-chips/get-around-to-work-later' days. Huddled down in her lap was a small, grey, floppy eared bunny named Cabby, Jill's helpful little familiar. Jillian's second familiar, a grey and brown stripped tabby cat named Rabbit was curled up in a near by chair, fast asleep.

"So," Jill muttered, "You saw an Ancient Egyptian pharaoh and Bigfoot strolling casually down Bank Street, Ottawa?"

"Jibs," growled Leigh, warningly, using an old nickname for her friend, "The high school principle is an ogre! The book store owner? A hobgoblin! What's King Tut and Bigfoot to Ottawa's magical community? Is it really that unbelievable?"

Jillian frowned, "I guess not. But you're making an awful big fuss about it. What's wrong?"

Leigh wandered over to the window. Looking out from their eleventh story apartment windows, they could easily see most of Ottawa. Focusing on the Rideau Canal, the redhead took her time formulating a reply. Jillian sat, stroking Cabby, patiently awaiting a response. "I just have a…a bad feeling…a very bad feeling…" The faerie Skilly woman turned back to the young witch, "I know something is wrong…something is very wrong, but I don't know what. Tut just made me think about it… Brought it to mind… but I don't know why!" She gestured vague with a long nailed hand, "It just a…feeling…a raw instinctive feeling that I can't shake…" Her hand tightened into a fist, nails digging into her palm. She brought her hand down on the windowsill, frustrated.

Jillian put Cabby on the desk and stood. "And you think your Tut has something to do with this 'bad feeling'?"

"Not this Tut, himself, just something about him."

Jillian looked, mock regretfully, at her nearly dried essay. "This will just have to wait, I guess," she said, cheerily, rolling the parchment up and stuffing it into one of the desk drawers, "I'll scry for the source of your dire intuition."

Leigh grinned, "Thanks! You're a life saver!"

Something rapped on the window pane. The Fay girl open the window and a large black raven flapped into the room, flying to the top of the tallest bookcase and well out of reach. "Hey!" snapped Leigh, standing on a chair to lift her arm up to the bird. The raven regarded her slowly, then hopped onto her wrist. Brandy-Eye was one of Estelle's familiars… and she seemed to hold herself in very high regards.

Leigh jumped back down and stroked the raven's glossy feathers. Then she noticed the small letter tube tied to the bird's scaly leg, "Oh. Got a letter?" she reached for the massage tube and got nipped, "Ow! Hey!" Leigh put her finger in her mouth. "Speaking of whom…" she addressed Jillian, "Where is Estelle?"

"I don't know," replied the witch, picking Cabby up and cradling him in the crook of her elbow, "It's Est! She just sort of disappears when she wants to and comes back later. When she's missing, no one can find her!"

"She just fades."

"Fades? Is that what it's called?"

"What? The spell to draw attention away from something? Yeah, fades. Because it removes others' attentiveness from a spot and that whole area just kind… well… fades…from our awareness."

"Oh! I didn't know that."

"I'm back!" As if on cue, the fore-mentioned mage stepped through the door and doffed her coat.

"Hey! Where've you been?" demanded Jillian. Brandy-Eye cawed and flapped her wings, losing a few broken, stray bits of feathers. Leigh turned her head away to avoid getting slapped across the face as the big raven launched herself off her wrist and flew to Estelle.

"Oh, just out," said Estelle absently, holding out one dark arm to catch Brandy-Eye, "Have you got a letter for me, girl?" Estelle was the shortest of the three by a hand, barely five feet tall. She was dark, of Indian-English back ground. Her hair was long and her eyes (beneath a pair of green rimmed spectacles) were vague and wistful. She looked older than her mere sixteen.

The mage untied the small plaster tube from Brandy-Eye's leg (without getting nipped, Leigh noted enviously) and quick read the tiny piece of paper inside. "Well?" enquired Jillian after a minute. Estelle was frowning, she dark forehead creased.

"Do you guys know who Albus Dumbledore is?"

"Yes! How could we not?" Leigh turned to Jillian, accusingly.

"Hey! He wrote some really good books!" said Jillian, defensively.

"All of which Estelle and I don't need to read any more, because you've summarized them all for us, in great detail, a hundred times!"

"Well--!… Just shut up!"

"Hey!" Estelle glared at both of them. "Leigh, remember how you were looking for a summer job?"

"Yeah?"

"Well…in short. We've all just gotten a summer job."

TBC…

So? Is it any good? I know this chapter just has OCs but I didn't want to make it really long. Next chapter will be Mummies Alive only, promise!

Note: For anyone who's lost on the classes of magic user, there are 3 main types of magic user in this story; Mage, Witch and Skilly.

1) Mages like Estelle, use raw magic to do spells. There magic is often very noticeable and they excel at potions and spiritual work (i.e. summoning). They use long-winded speeches as spells.

2) Jillian is a witch like Hermione; she uses a wand, simple, Latin-based spells, etc. She'd b in Hogworts if she lived in England instead of Canada.

3) Leigh is a Faerie Skilly woman. Their magic is often very subtle and they have excel at making things like brooms and amulets. Their spells are short, rhyming lines, usually made on the spur of the moment. They usually have animalistic instincts.