Chapter 5 – Emissary

THREE MONTHS LATER – 3047 B.C.E.

Harry sighed as he stepped back into his private rooms. The Pharaoh had been less than receptive to his suggestion of a second trip to Heliopolis. He supposed he could just apparate there, and it'd only take a few jumps, but he certainly couldn't stay away for more than a few hours without someone noticing.

His first trip, right after his second run-in with Khnurn, he'd scoured the city top to bottom, asking everyone he could about the whereabouts of the man, or whether he'd been seen recently. Chasing down the man to his hometown had seemed a good idea, but even with the Pharaoh's permission to pursue it he'd effectively wasted several weeks. Though the city was quite pleased to have a representative of the Pharaoh in their midst, even their considerable resources had been unable to locate the man. He hadn't picked up a scrap of information, not even the slightest hint. Khnurn had vanished off the face of the planet, and the trail was now so cold that it would be impossible to pick back up.

The man was an enigma, still. In recent weeks, though, he'd come to an uncomfortable conclusion. Not only was he the only one he'd seen who was even remotely out of place, like himself, but he then vanished as if by magic. What if it was just that? As a wizard he could evade Harry as long as he wanted. He had no easy way of tracking someone through apparition after all.

A second discovery that he'd made had sent him for a loop as well. Unlike Per-Bastet, the capital had shrines for all the gods that the Egyptians worshipped, somewhere, and there was one that he'd stumbled upon completely by accident, and he hadn't been able to shake the connection. The god Khnum, depicted as a man with a ram's head sitting behind a potter's wheel. The statue had seemed almost to smile at him from its shrine, and Harry had almost fallen over when one of the priests had described him as the 'Divine Potter' of all things. He would've forgotten even that if not for something else. At the feet of the statue, staring at him with its eerie eyes, had been a black cat.

After his visit to Heliopolis he'd tried at length to get another chance, hoping that with his new-found information he might make a better chance of finding the man. He'd tried all the spells he remembered from Hogwarts that might be remotely relevant, but without any success.

He'd ended up admitting to himself that he wasn't going to find the man if he didn't want to be found, since he was far too slippery. He'd tried to get rid of his annoyance by focusing on his work. He liked the diplomacy and resource-management more than he'd anticipated, mostly because the people tended not to bicker too much about what he came up with. He'd also doubled down on studying magic. He'd never really done so at Hogwarts, seeing as most things were already available in books, but toying with spells was intriguing. He could see why Snape had started making his own, or why Dumbledore might have begun making his own little inventions, like the Deluminator. Perhaps he could replicate such things himself, if he tried long enough.

That said, he'd not gotten terribly far. He had no books to go by, so he had to rely on trial and error and he'd had to write down his own notes. Though his chicken-scratches on crude papyrus were hard to decipher even for him, they were helpful enough to keep track of what he'd already learned, and he was confident that nobody in the palace had any way to figure out what it said. Most didn't even know the hieroglyphic language, much less a foreign one.

Jotting down a list of all the spells he knew had been the first thing he did, and it was with some surprise that he'd ended up with page after page scribbled full of incantations and crude descriptions. Several years of Hogwarts combined with quite a bit of private research for the DA and his upcoming Auror education had left him with more than he'd anticipated. On the other hand, most of it wouldn't be terribly helpful. He could hold off Muggles easily enough, and a lot of the prank hexes and minor charms had rather limited applications. For example, he was uncertain why he'd need to transfigure a vole into a mole rat, ever.

Atop his desk stood a broken pot, looking decidedly battered. Although he'd stopped trying his Portkeys for now since they had a tendency to land in the nastiest of places, he figured he could still use them to figure out other things. For example, what exactly did one need to focus on while casting the spell? He'd succeeded once with only a vague idea of where he was going, while his deliberate attempt to replicate that effect had smashed him into a wall, hundreds of miles from his target. He was doing something wrong, and he'd figure out what.

"Hard at work?"

Harry turned, smiling. "My Queen." He bowed slightly, though she'd told him off often enough that he didn't need to do that in private. "What brings you here? Not to foist another one of your acquisitions on me, I hope?"

"No, no, none yet," the Queen said, smiling thinly. "I was merely wondering if you were well." She glanced over the piles of objects that littered the room with a curious expression. Harry had made some basic shelves by sticking some blocks of stone to the wall and neatly cutting them into shape. It was a little crude, but the place was beginning to look remarkably like Headmaster Dumbledore's old office. Dozens of little knick-knacks and failed experiments littered the shelves, while others were covered with dozens of unorganized piles of papyrus, his notes. The Queen stepped closer, picking up one of the small jeweled amulets. "I understand that you had another disagreement with my husband?"

"The same reasons, again," Harry grumbled, running a hand through his hair. "He seems unwilling to leave me out of his sight for very long. I wonder if he believes I will simply vanish, never to return?"

"I would not say that so strongly," the Queen said, smiling knowingly. "He does not wish you to waste the time that you have, and I agree that your search for this unknown man might be ineffectual. This is the reason that I argue in favour of giving you more responsibility." She winked as Harry blanched. "Oh, do not worry too much. I merely suggested that your attempts to track down this man were symptoms of feeling cooped up in the palace. It is why my husband was short with you, I suspect. He does not like being contradicted, even by myself."

"What did you tell him?" Harry asked, blinking. "How am I cooped up?"

"In the coming year there will be a festival in Heliopolis," the Queen said after a while, ignoring the question. "I have made sure that you are able to attend, in place of one of our representatives that would normally do so. The Pharaoh has other obligations at that time. To make this plausible, though, you will be required to similarly represent the palace separately, so that the priests of Heliopolis do not believe we are merely doing this to be rid of you."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, shaking his head. "What do you want me to do?"

"There has been some trouble with a collection of city-states to the north, going by the name of Ka-na-na," The Queen said. "Djer has had contact with emissaries of late, as you have doubtlessly noted, and they have asked for a visit by the ruling class of Egypt so that diplomatic agreements can be made." She frowned. "There are several among their number who are well-versed in the Egyptian language, so that shan't be a barrier. What is more worrying, though, is the tales that abound about this civilization. Some claims are made that their priests who worship foreign gods, gods of blood and soul, are capable of great wonders. It is said that they conjure mighty lances of flame, storms from a clear sky, that they impart death with a single word."

Harry's eyes widened. That had to be magic. "What do you want me to do?"

"An invasion of this 'Ka-na-na' may be inevitable, but peaceful alternatives would allow for more stability at our borders," the Queen said after a while. "Making such diplomatic contacts with a culture that is different form our own might prove difficult, since we only have some trade agreements, and no more. We cannot afford to show weakness, lest the inhabitants descend upon us like a swarm of locusts. Neither can we arrive with a great military, as they might see it as a deliberate precursor to an assault."

"You want to send me," Harry concluded.

"There is none alive who more exemplifies the blessings upon our land," The Queen agreed, smiling knowingly. "My husband agrees that it would be best if you and a small contingent of others travel to these people and make contact. Should the stories about their mighty conjurers be true, then you are the finest we can send to show our own prowess. I expected that you would appreciate this chance, coupled with the opportunity to pursue your personal goals after your return."

"So be it." Harry nodded, shrugging.

"I will inform Djer that you agreed." The Queen smiled, putting down the little sculpture that she'd picked from his shelf. "Perhaps you will find what you are looking for."

"Kneel."

"Please, don't do this!" The dark-haired youth exclaimed, flinching away from the imposing figure before him. "I shall not do it again, I swear!"

"There is only one punishment for thieves, boy." The man barked, narrowing his eyes. "Perhaps your pathetic gods of fertility and flowers might have given you reprieve, but they are not present, are they?"

"Please," The boy whimpered, trying to ignore the wounds across his back, where the man had used his vicious whip so harshly that it would doubtlessly scar. That is, if the wounds ever got that chance. The boy retreated into a corner of the room, swallowing thickly. "Please, I don't want this."

The man stepped forward, grasping the boy by his hair and dragging him upright. Whimpering and sobbing he managed to keep himself from tipping over and his torturer prodded him in the side where two broken ribs made his breathing difficult. "What's your name, worm?"

The boy cowered as if hit. "It's Mot."

"Mot. I suppose a disgustingly mundane name like that suits you," the man muttered. "Stealing food from the tables of your betters in a city such as this? Surely you realized that no mercy would be shown?"

The boy winced. "Please, c-can I return to my mother?" He ducked away, hoping that he wouldn't be hit again. His head was still ringing from last time. "Just one time?"

The man sighed, stepping forward. A hint of compassion momentarily entered his eyes, and it seemed like he wanted to say something less threatening. Then he grasped his whip tightly, and his expression turned stony.

Nobody in the streets even responded to the anguished cries.

ONE WEEK LATER – 3047 B.C.E.

Harry walked back through the streets of Tjenu with a small smile, giving friendly nods to several craftsmen that he'd interacted with before he became an advisor. He'd only been gone for two days, but every time he ran some errand, people would wonder what he was up to. Tales of his exploits, mundane as they were, tended to be exaggerated over time. Unfortunately, denying that they were true would only make people believe the stories all the more closely.

Quite a few people bowed or cast down their eyes and Harry ignored the twinge of discomfort at the sight. He'd had to squash his tendency to speak to everyone as equals, since that was a decidedly alien idea in his time. Though he would like to introduce the idea in due time, right now the people needed stability and he couldn't really do so. The people were generally not bothered by being in such a layered society aside from the very lowest, since they didn't know any different. Harry had no real idea how to end their misery, beyond making sure that they were well-fed and healthy; he'd hardly start a revolution.

Most days, his occupation as Pharaoh Djer's court wizard was quite mundane. He used his magic often enough in the confines of the palace or for the Pharaoh's benefit, and it seemed almost like he was back at the Weasley residence, where he was mostly just making things easier with his particular talents. Whenever he was out here he saw the bigger picture, the many things that he could perhaps help change while he was here, particularly with his position. Granted, he could use a better understanding of how to use his magic since his current repertoire was limited, but he was certain he could do it. Perhaps, in due time, he could turn this humdrum civilization into something a little more modern.

Occasionally he still worried about changing things. He'd been here for years, and he'd altered quite a few things. He'd even started to think of Egypt as his home now, sort of. He frequently wondered what everyone back home was up to, how they'd dealt with his disappearance. Then he remembered that they hadn't been born yet, and he wasn't sure if that was a relief or not. The thought of his life just before he'd left made him wonder what he'd been thinking. He'd been uninterested in much more than just getting on with his life after the War, and he'd never really considered doing anything he did now. Making jewellery, experimenting with magic, politics, would he ever have discovered such things if not for his return?

Sighing, Harry kicked away a rock and sent it skipping across the ground. It was no use thinking of the future, if he wasn't going back there. His friends might miss him, but it was unlikely they'd ever find out what happened. Maybe he could leave a message for them, somehow, that they'd find in a few thousand years. Perhaps he could make sure they knew that he'd survived, that he hadn't died out there in the Egyptian sands. Hopefully Bill wouldn't feel too terrible about losing him in that pyramid. Hopefully Ginny would find someone else to be with.

"Heru!"

Harry blinked, glancing around. There weren't very many people carrying that name for obvious reasons, so who had called him? He narrowed his eyes as he realized a short woman with numerous necklaces was hurrying over towards him, smiling broadly.

"Heru, it is you!" she yelled again, stopping in front of him. She smiled as she looked down at herself. "I do not look that different, do I?"

Harry gasped. Her hair was neatly tied together in an elaborate style that reminded him of a Noblewoman's, and she was wearing some kind of light makeup, but it was most definitely her under all that. Around her neck was a beautiful sash decorated with golden-red feathers that he instantly recognized. "Ahaneith!"

"It has been far too long," she said, nodding enthusiastically. "Come! Nebit will want to see you again. I can scarcely believe all that has happened."

"What?" Harry asked, baffled, as he quickly walked after her, glancing around nervously. He was attracting quite a bit of attention. "Why are you dressed like that? You could pass for a noblewoman!"

Ahaneith nodded, smiling broadly. "You must truly have gained great favour here, Heru! The Queen of Egypt sent one of her servants to tend to my appearance," she answered, her eyes wide. "Nebit and I arrived yesterday, hoping to meet with you. When we found out that you were absent we intended to find a sleeping place in the city, but the Queen approached us, commoners as we are, and insisted that we follow her!"

Harry rubbed his eyes, realizing where this was going. "You told her that we were close, didn't you?" he asked tiredly.

At her hesitant nod, Harry groaned. "I should've guessed that something like that would happen," he said. "I suppose she's already arranged a room, told you where to get food, and sent half a dozen people to tend to your needs?"

"…How do you know that?"

Harry rubbed the back of his head, smiling sheepishly. "A hunch."

Twice now Harry had found himself face to face with a woman he'd never met before that had apparently moved right into his part of the palace. The Queen had decided, given the fact that he was past twenty and still unwed, that she'd find a wife for him. Unfortunately she didn't exactly take into account his own preferences, since she was well aware he wasn't the type to go out and find someone himself. Thus, she'd taken a more proactive approach.

The first time Harry had been rather irate about the whole thing, particularly since the woman the Queen had picked was from a noble family and rather uninterested in even speaking to her prospective husband. After he'd found her rifling through his writings and gemstones not once but twice he'd rather rudely showed her to the door, his patience exhausted.

The second girl that the Queen had sent his way turned out to be a much nicer person. She was the daughter of a commoner and a Noble, and friendly to a fault. She and Harry had effectively become close neighbours after a while and she'd occasionally sat in on his experiments, but whatever spark the Queen had hoped to see hadn't been there. Ultimately she'd moved out when she and a commoner bricklayer got together, and Harry had every intention of attending their marriage ceremony.

This, then, was her third attempt. Harry realized that he'd probably brought up Ahaneith and his time in Per-Bastet a little more than he ought to have. He couldn't really talk about anything before that, since it was all distant future stuff that would mean nothing to her, and she'd drawn her own conclusions. He hoped that she wouldn't make things any more embarrassing than this. Who would've expected that the biggest risk in becoming the Pharaoh's advisor was attracting his wife's attention?

"Heru? You seem distracted."

"Ah, just reminiscing," Harry admitted, shrugging. "So, what brought you to Tjenu? I'm sure that you hadn't anticipated the Queen's… unique character."

Ahaneith laughed softly. "No, it was nothing so dramatic. When you passed by Per-Bastet a few months ago, I heard that you attempted to reach us at our place. We were out in the wilds at that time, though, and we felt bad about missing a visit. Nebit decided that we should return the favour. The first workers from the city arrived a short while ago to begin work on the temple, so our departure was not really noticed, I believe."

"So, here you are," Harry said, smiling. "I might have a jewellery business that you might be interested in continuing, you know. I remember that you rather enjoyed that, and if you continue under my name, I believe you could certainly be successful…"

"Truly?" Ahaneith smiled, nodding contentedly. "Yes, I believe that may be what I will do. Perhaps Nebit could find work as a guard here. He has some experience now in keeping bandits from ransacking Per-Bastet, you know. He has taken four so far, in fact!"

Harry smiled hesitantly, not sure if one should be complimented for killing four people. Still, he supposed that it was to be expected in times like these. The kind of brutality he'd already seen had become almost too normal, though he supposed it was quite humane compared to what he remembered from History of Magic. Whether that meant Muggles were more reasonable in punishments or wizards were simply more effective at it he didn't know.

"There is something that I wanted to show you, from our last trip into the wilds." Ahaneith took her sash and thumbed one of the long feathers attached to it. "We found them, you know. We found the Bennu, right where you once spoke with them. Nebit decided to go back there to show me their amazing colours, and one of them ate from his hand, completely unafraid. It was astounding!"

"Phoenixes can probably sense your intention," Harry said, shrugging. "They're intelligent enough to know who to trust. Nebit respects them, so they respect him back. I take it they left you those feathers there?"

"They did," Ahaneith agreed, smiling. "The tree in which they lived held many of them, and the Bennu let us take them. I decided that they should only be used for important times, though Nebit insisted on making this." She ran a hand over the sash and smiled. "He believes that it will bring good tidings in the future."

"I'm sure it will," Harry agreed, sighing contentedly. "It's good to have you here. I know plenty of people at the palace, but they tend to be a bit stiff. Per-Bastet is boring compared to what happens here on a daily basis, but I do miss talking to people who aren't either my superiors or scared of even slightly disrespecting me. Comes with the position, I suppose."

"Well, you won't get that with me," Ahaneith said, winking. "I'm sure I can grovel a bit if you want to, though."

Harry coloured, trying not to make a rather crude remark. "We should head to see the Queen, then. I want to know what plans she has spun now. Sometimes I truly wonder if the Pharaoh is in charge of the palace or she is." He shook his head and smiled. "First, though, I should go past an old friend."

Harry didn't even notice that they walked into the palace hand-in-hand. The Queen certainly did.

"This is your friend?"

Harry shrugged helplessly, grabbing the tail of a dead rat between the fingers and dangling it into the room. Excited hissing could be heard from the darkness, and Harry grabbed his wand, quickly conjuring a little ball of light. The three bobbing heads of the Pharaoh's Runespoor slid into view. Harry turned to Ahaneith with a smile. "He's got nobody else around here. I figured I could take care of his welfare a little."

The Runespoor's three heads rose up from the ground, both of the heads on the side focused on the dead rat while the middle weaved back and forth to an unheard rhythm. Ahaneith had gone completely still, and Harry smiled encouragingly at her, hoping that she'd understand things were safe.

"He is the Pharaoh's serpent," Harry explained, finally throwing the rat into the room. Before it even hit the ground it was snatched up by the middle head that suddenly interrupted its dance for a single big gulp. The two heads on the side hissed at the Dreamer in irritation, though it did not care in the slightest. Harry wondered if it even mattered which head ate, given that they all shared a body. He shook his head as the snake slid back into the shadows, convinced that the long hiss at the end was its word for 'thanks'. It was odd knowing that snakes had their own language, and no longer being able to understand it.

"Why does it live here, in its own room?" Ahaneith wondered. "Does it not bite anyone?"

"Actually, when I first came here it was perpetually locked in a little box maybe twice its size. I argued with the Pharaoh that it really should have a larger place to roam in." Harry wisely didn't tell her how he'd found that out. "I was sure that the box would inevitably get so small for the snake that it would not be content to stay within it. Nobody dared handle the creature, though, so I was the one that ultimately made this happen." He tapped the side of the door proudly. "I placed an enchantment on the door that should prevent any living thing from going inside except for me. It keeps the Runespoor in too, unless I'm there to release it. If you stick out your hand you should notice that."

Ahaneith carefully tried to reach into the room, wary of the snake that was looking at them interestedly, and her hand stopped in mid-air as if encountering a wall. She brushed her hand across the invisible barrier in wonder.

"It's a variation on a spell I once needed while camping," Harry admitted. "That one was meant to keep out anything with bad intentions, but the principle by which it worked is pretty general. Someone persistent enough could break through this one, I'm sure, but I figure that it'll keep idiots out. Anyone who forces their way inside is just asking to get bitten."

"Amazing," Ahaneith said, looking at the Runespoor curiously. Apparently, knowing that it was safely behind Harry's spell had calmed her nerves. "I have never heard of such a creature in all of Egypt either!"

"It comes from the far south, actually. Somewhere within a few days' walking distance of the border with Egypt, I believe. I'm pretty sure he was bought from a local merchant as a fresh hatchling, and he has been in essentially voluntary captivity ever since. He could've broken out often enough but didn't, content to mooch off the humans who fed him and kept him clean."

"You know so much. It is as if you can speak to it." Ahaneith smiled. "I would not be surprised if you could."

Harry smiled sadly, glancing at the Runespoor. "In a way, I suppose I would like that too. Perhaps I'll decipher the language, someday. I'm sure it can be done."

"Decipher the language of the serpent?" Ahaneith smiled, shaking her head. "You deny a connection to the gods, but every time you speak of your pursuits I am reminded of them. You correspond with the mighty birds of the Sun God, and now with the creatures of Wadjet, Protector of Egypt!"

Harry shook his head, trailing his hand over the rough stone of the doorway. Several hieroglyphics had been carved into the side, though they didn't actually do anything. As far as he knew, they were essentially a warning to trespassers, declaring the room guarded by the power of Heru. Harry wasn't sure if the little falcon was signifying the god or himself, but it didn't really matter. He turned to Ahaneith with a sad smile. "The Phoenix and the Runespoor here are like me. In that way you are correct. They are my closest kin, in a way."

"Kin to the sacred animals, are you?" Ahaneith turned, away, smiling. "How long will you continue to deny your connection to the divine, Heru? There is humility in your refusal of such honour, but certainly among friends you can let this slip a little?"

Harry just shook his head, smiling.

"You're kidding me."

Ahaneith giggled softly, though she forced herself to keep them in with only mild success. "I believe that the Queen is, as you say, determined in her pursuits."

Harry rubbed his head tiredly as he observed the damage. His bedroom, one that he'd had to himself for ages now, had suddenly been filled with all sorts of things that were definitely not his own. Right next to his bed were a large pile of Ahaneith's clothes and various odds and ends cluttered the place. Indeed, the bed itself had gained a second pillow.

"So, where will I sleep?" he asked after a while, shaking his head in amusement.

Ahaneith chuckled. "You are not so naïve, Heru." She pressed down on the mattress that Harry had transfigured from the rather lumpy excuse for one that it'd been delivered with. Harry wasn't sure, but it might well be a better bed than the Pharaoh's at this point. He did like his comforts. Ahaneith seemed to notice the quality as well as she turned to Harry in surprise. "This is very soft!"

"I made the mattress myself," Harry admitted, colouring. He knew full well what the Queen was doing here. The Pharaoh was busy all the time, and didn't concern himself terribly with what Harry did privately. The Queen didn't have as much restraint. "I bet she's laughing herself silly over this."

Ahaneith sat down on the edge of the bed as she pulled off several of her necklaces and dropped them on Harry's bedside table, in between notes on Portkey creation and a rather deformed stone replica of a Phoenix. That had been one of his attempts to recreate the permanently burning torches that had made Hogwarts so well-lit at night by glowing with a soft light. It had melted rather quickly when Harry realized he'd forgotten about the heat aspect.

"The bed is large enough for two," Ahaneith said, winking. "I'm sure she didn't mean to insult you, Heru. I imagine that she doesn't have any children of her own that are of marriageable age, and this is an amusing diversion."

"It's not that," Harry said with a sigh, rubbing his forehead. "The Queen can do what she wants. She can be a bit overbearing, but I guess that's what you get, being Djer's wife. I was wondering what was wrong with the perfectly fine room down the hall that the last two women used?"

Ahaneith shrugged. "Nebit's sleeping there, of course. He'll probably have the whole thing filled with his tools and weapons before the night is out. No room for two people anymore." She smiled teasingly as she glanced back at the bed. "Ah, come on now Heru. Certainly you can see the humour in this?"

"That doesn't mean I have to like it," Harry said, deciding that he'd have to bear the Queen's whims, for now. He walked over to his bed, taking out his wand. "Well, if this is how things are going to be for now, so be it. There's not really enough space for two beds here, but I can at least make things a bit more manageable." With a slight prod the bed jumped to attention, stretching itself until it was almost half again as wide. It groaned as if in protest and Harry viciously prodded it in the mattress. "Keep still, you."

"Why are you talkingto it?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "It's being annoying. That's what you get with conjured objects, sometimes. They get a bit uppity if you don't do it properly. I suppose practice makes perfect, though." He stabbed the bed again and it finally snapped into place. "There we go."

"Only you would have a bed that resents being poked," Ahaneith said, grinning.

Harry nodded distractedly, frowning as he looked at the enlarged bed. "You know, this is going to be a pain to explain to your brother."

Ahaneith smiled, winking. "Come now, Heru, you know what he will say. I distinctly recall that you had that very conversation before."

"Fine, I'll go with it," Harry said. "I'm too tired to make much of a fuss, though I'm sure I can figure out a way to get back at the Queen for this." He glanced at Ahaneith for a moment, smirking. "If you snore I'm shoving you out of the bed."

"You would not dare!"

"Get up, Mot."

Mot rubbed his eyes tiredly, slowly wobbling to his feet. He hadn't been fed in two days, and it was beginning to show: he was listless, his muscles felt like jelly, his mind was foggy. He tried for a long moment to identify who had spoken, failing miserably. He slowly turned to go back to his cot. Straw on stone, not very comfortable.

"Mot, pay attention!" The tall man shook his head, slapping the boy roughly around the ears. A spatter of blood dotted the wall as the boy cried out in pain; the sharp ring that the man wore had cut a neat gash into the boy's ear.

"Wh-what is it?" Mot shivered, even in the heat. "Is it time?"

"Not yet," the man said, and he sounded almost sorry. "They wish you to suffer before you meet your true punishment, I believe. Two moons, perhaps three. No more."

Mot sighed miserably. "Can I have a piece of bread, please? I'm so h-hungry."

"I will bring you soup, tomorrow." He shook his head. "I have convinced them that lashing you would only kill you, now. The last of the wound rot could only barely be stopped, and your execution is to be a spectacle."

"All that for a thief," Mot muttered, rubbing his forehead tiredly. "Why? The punishment is death, I know that. Why this torture? Do they not trust the gods to tend to my punishment themselves?"

The man smiled thinly. "You speak of them often; I suppose there is some honour in that. I'm afraid that here there are few who share such beliefs here. The Egyptian influence is not yet so great."

"I have spoken to Anubis himself," the boy said sharply. "Your beliefs in non-existent beings will not sway me. If I have done wrong, let those who exist judge me, not my captors!"He trembled, thinking that saying something like that when he barely understood what it meant was probably a bad idea.

The man's expression turned from almost conciliatory to furious in an instant. "I will not hear such blasphemies from your mouth again!" He frowned as he retrieved a length of wood. "There will be no wounds, this time."

Mot shrank back, hoping dearly that it would all be over soon.

THREE WEEKS LATER – 3047 B.C.E.

"Half a year?" Harry glared in annoyance. "I can't just leave for that long!"

The Pharaoh merely raised an eyebrow. "I was informed that you had already agreed."

Harry frowned, thinking back to his meeting with the Queen, weeks before. He'd considered the task that the Queen had referred to so that he could reasonably stand in for the Pharaoh at a celebration such as that in Heliopolis, but he's mostly forgotten about it since. Other things had caught his attention, not the least of which was the return of some of his closest friends, and he'd gotten quite engrossed in his research. "I figured it would take a month or two," Harry said at last, slumping in his seat. "I can't just skip out of town for months on end and then reappear! Nobody would take me seriously as an advisor, I would think. Besides, I can do little from the other side of the country, much less from outside it!"

"It is more than eight weeks of travel," the Pharaoh pointed out. "Perhaps it could take considerably more time considering the distance that must be traversed. Surely you had not assumed that a diplomatic excursion would be a quick walk back and forth?"

Harry sighed, frowning. He didn't really mind going to this country. Perhaps he'd even find other wizards. He'd be leaving Ahaneith and Nebit behind again though, both of whom were tolerated only for their connection to him. Certainly the servants and most of the nobles didn't much appreciate the presence of commoners. They had trouble enough accepting Harry's position as it was.

"Nakhtneith will look after them," the Pharaoh said after a moment, smiling knowingly.

"Your wife is quite persistent," Harry observed, rolling his eyes. "I suppose she's content with the current arrangement, though."

"She can be quite headstrong," the Pharaoh agreed. He straightened. "Do you accept this task, advisor? It is possible that you will return sooner than the end of the dry season, but it is unlikely. If you cannot tolerate such a long absence, I will have to find an alternative."

"I'll do it," Harry said at last.

"Good." The man sipped from his cup. "I expect that you will represent our country well. If these foreigners have the great power that they're purported to have, I hope that you will prevent it from reaching our shores?"

Harry nodded distractedly. Although he knew little of ancient Wizarding history, he was pretty sure that the vast majority of the spells he knew hadn't been invented yet, which would make him rather a match for any wizard he might come across. At worst they'd simply have no idea of each other's spells, and he did have a pretty good track record of getting through a conflict or two.

This, Harry realized, was where he'd first leave Egypt since he arrived. Leave the relative safety of a world that he'd made his own in favour of some strange other culture, probably as primitive as this one, if not more so. A few years ago he would've jumped at the chance. Even a few months ago he would've had no reservations. Now, though, things were different.

"I will do what is in my power, and hurry back."

Harry trudged into his workroom, dropping his jewellery haphazardly on a shelf. He stepped into his bedroom and dropped his wand on a small shelf near the door, where he had easy access to it. That particular shelf he'd enchanted with a Muggle-Repelling charm; even if someone were to break in here in the middle of the night, they would have no idea where he kept his weapon. He would've considered keeping it under a pillow or something similar, but he heard too many horror-stories in the past. With only one wand available to him, he couldn't risk breaking it.

"So, what did the Pharaoh say?"

Harry jumped slightly, shaking his head at the reaction. Sleeping perfectly alone for a few years had made him rather jumpy at sounds in the night, and he hadn't gotten used to having someone sleep so close. Granted, it wasn't the first time he'd shared a room with other people, but it was the first time he'd shared a bed.

"He really wants me to go. He's already made all the arrangements for tomorrow," Harry answered, sighing. "Six months, probably more." He yawned loudly as he walked over to his cupboard. Three half-formed pairs of glasses lay on top. None of them were good enough to actually wear, but he was getting somewhere, slowly. The things were at least no longer exploding the instant he made them, which set his mind at ease a little. He'd rather not have one of them go off while he was wearing them after all. He wondered what Professor McGonagall would've said about his rather dreadful attempts.

"Half a year is not so bad," Ahaneith commented, raising herself up from the bed. She looked challengingly at Harry as she brushed her hair aside, and Harry had to force himself not to blush or look away. Admittedly, the latter was not hard. "I would be worried if it were Nebit, because I know that he would risk dying by the sword. You will not suffer such a fate, I believe." She smiled.

Harry sighed. "It's just that you've been here for only three weeks, and now I'm the one who's leaving. I feel like a terrible host."

"Eh, you let me sleep in this bed when you know full well that you could have gone against the Queen," Ahaneith said, smirking. "I do not think you could be much more hospitable."

Harry shook his head, dropping his clothes in a disorganized pile next to the bed and quickly jumping in. Ahaneith looked on in amusement as he wormed himself under the blankets. "You know as well as I do that the Queen would have someone else in here by the end of the month."

"Still so insecure, Heru?" Ahaneith wondered, smiling thinly as Harry hugged the blanket. "Your culture must truly be uncomfortable with the body."

Harry sighed, giving up on covering himself. "Well, I suppose you're right. I had trouble enough getting used to all the people on the street going around with barely a loincloth. Someone back home would probably have frozen to death doing that in this time of year."

Ahaneith smiled. "It's cute, really. Most of the men here would be all too eager to show off. If you've ever seen Nebit in one of those moods you know what I mean."

Harry laughed softly. "I suppose I do know." He relaxed into his pillow. "Egypt can be very weird, even after years here."

Ahaneith nodded, smiling. "So, off on a valiant excursion for the Pharaoh?" She smiled deviously. "I suppose you'll be on your own, then. Maybe you'll miss me?"

Harry blinked as Ahaneith scooted closer. "What are you doing?"

"Shhh..."

Harry swallowed thickly.

"Is everyone here?" Harry asked, glancing over the half-dozen soldiers that were gathered near the gates. Several of them were carrying what appeared to be some kind of yoke with two bags on each side, filled with all sorts of goods and food. Harry frowned, shaking his head. He'd gotten down to the capital without much in the way of provisions, mostly because he could get some more easily enough. Travelling long distances was different, he supposed.

"I believe there is one more who will be joining us, advisor." The man who'd spoken smiled cheerily. Harry realized suddenly that the man seemed awfully familiar, and he grinned in recognition.

"So, they did let you come along, Sam? I'd wondered whether or not that request ever got through." Harry shook his head in amusement. "It's been a while."

"That it has," Sam agreed. "I am most honoured that you thought of me. I had not imagined that you would remember someone like me. Your sudden rise to such a high position truly did astound me, I admit. I scarcely believed it when I heard!"

"I know, I know." Harry raised an eyebrow as he glanced over the rest of the soldiers. "Are you familiar with the others, by any chance?"

"Of course," Sam replied, looking slightly affronted. "I hand-picked them myself, if you must know. Each has seen at least one battle and all have served throughout Egypt. They will be ready should violence become necessary."

"Let's hope not," Harry muttered. "This is a rather small group, isn't it?"

"There are enough here to suit our needs," a rather high-pitched voice said behind Harry and he slowly turned. A grey-haired and rather rickety-looking priest stood before him, carrying a small pile of papyrus under his arm and a decidedly gaudy locket around his neck, though Harry couldn't complain given his own golden collar. Harry narrowed his eyes at the jewelled object, thankfully noting that it was decidedly different from the last locket he remembered.

The man squinted at Harry and frowned. "So, you are the one that the palace sent, then?"

Harry nodded, trying a smile. The other man scoffed and glanced over the soldiers with an appreciative eye. "I suppose their martial prowess will make up for your unimpressive stature."

"I beg your pardon?" Harry blinked as the man simply waved him off. Considering how the temple of Heru had tried so desperately to get back in his good graces, he hadn't expected such a casual dismissive reaction. "I do have some suggest-"

"Be silent," the priest snapped, gesturing out the gate. "Let us be off. There are many hours yet left in the day, and I would not spend them dilly-dallying. Transportation and supplies are waiting a good day's walk away."

Harry followed the man with a bemused expression, looking over his shoulder a last time. Ahaneith and Nebit would be fine, he was sure. They'd keep their rooms at the palace if the Queen had anything to say about it. They had decided not to come see him off: apparently they thought it would bring bad luck. He wondered whether that was really a local custom, but dismissed the thought. They'd still be here when he got back and he could always bring it up then.

"Do hurry up!" The old man said, and Harry sighed in annoyance as he quickly caught up. It seemed that he'd ended up with the only priest in all of Egypt that actually sounded like Filch.

"What should I call you, priest of Heru?" Harry asked curiously as he surreptitiously slipped his wand into his hand. He could subtly lighten the load of the soldiers when they weren't paying attention. He was so invested in his silent spell casting that he almost missed the haughty priest's answer.

"Wosret," he replied, and then looked at Harry with narrowed eyes. "You are that upstart that's got all the palace upset. There have been many tales concerning the elusive advisor who channels the spirit of Heru himself."

"I don't know about that," Harry said, shrugging. "The Pharaoh himself offered me the position of advisor, and I was not about to disappoint him. Whether or not you consider me worthy is hardly up to you." He smirked. "I dare say I am, though. The recent trade agreements with the south were mostly my doing, after all."

Wosret sniffed, shaking his head. "The temple has been a truly deplorable place to be for several months, you are aware? Three priests decided to leave Tjenu. Three. All because they believed they had committed a grievous offense. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that their anguish was over you."He glared at Harry. "I argued that they were fools, but they wouldn't accept the criticism."

"I had nothing to do with that," Harry argued. "The first day I came to town, well, I didn't make a good impression, I suppose. It took quite a long time before the Pharaoh took notice, so I could hardly blame the priesthood for denying a foreigner."

The man's expression softened a little as he nodded. He glanced at the soldiers speculatively. "I am certain we shall talk of it again. We should think of our travels, now. Camels shall be ready to take us and our supplies further down the Nile, though it is a solid day's walk before we reach the town that they have been moved to. When we come to the eastern reaches it will be only a relatively short trip to reach our destination."

Harry nodded. "Well, what are we waiting for? We have miles to tread, destinations to reach." Harry fell in lock-step with the soldiers and it wasn't long before his thoughts wandered off as their procession departed down the long road to the north. He realized that he wouldn't get much time to experiment with spells. Well, at least he could use the time penning down some new ideas, since he could probably duplicate some of Wosret's papyrus.

He raised his hand a last time towards the walls of the city that were quickly vanishing in the distance. He doubted that Ahaneith or Nebit would see it, but it didn't matter. In six months he'd see them again. Hopefully he could pick right back up where he left off.

He'd miss her, especially.

TWO MONTHS LATER – 3047 B.C.E.

"Stand."

Mot got up without a protest, hanging his head low. He'd learned not to contradict his captors, or they'd just cause him pain until he did. He didn't know the name of the man that tormented him, of the man who seemed to pity him and hate him at the same time. He wiped his long hair out of his eyes, wondering if he could have cut it somehow. Unfortunately sharp implements were kept far away from him.

"It is time?"

"I'm afraid so," the man said, nodding morosely. "There is talk of a foreign emissary coming to the city from a powerful country, and the priests wish to have your punishment done with before they arrive."

Mot didn't have to think long about what that implied. "Egyptians," he surmised. For a moment he felt hope flutter in his stomach. "They've come, at last."

The man frowned, shaking his head. "They do not know you're here. To their mind, all were killed. They certainly do not know of any surviving outside their own borders."

Mot slumped a little, but he refused to budge. "C-Can you?" He gestured to his wrists. "Please?"

"Free you? No." The man shook his head, seeming ashamed. "They would have my own head if I were any more lenient than I am. Many others would have taken great joy in torturing you for information about your heritage. I know that you were too young to remember much, and that is all that has kept me as civil as I have been."

Mot scowled. The burning lashes on his back were testament to the fact that the man's word was worthless. Barely two weeks after the whip had been replaced by a broader length of wood it had been switched out for the nastier weapon once more. The temple had been unhappy with his relatively health and insisted that the punishment became harsher once more. Mot wondered sometimes if his pain would ever end at all.

Now there was a ray of hope. His own people, Egyptian people, were coming. Considering the way his tormentor talked about them, they had to be important. The Pharaoh himself, perhaps? He could not die so close to salvation. It could not end here. Not today.

"Come," the man said, stepping towards him with his hand outstretched. For a brief moment Mot utterly panicked. He was only eleven, this wasn't right. He couldn't let it end like this! He kicked out with all his might as the man came near, scrabbling desperately upright to get away from the man who pulled out a vicious-looking knife. "Vicious urchin!" he snarled. Mot backed against the wall as the man stabbed towards him with him, though it stopped in mid-air as a gurgling sound interrupted the enraged snarl.

Everything was still. The man stood before him with wide-open eyes, one hand grabbing at his throat, and blood dripped from in between his fingers. His blade fell out of limp fingers. Very slowly he toppled to the ground. Blood gushed out on the floor, streaming into the dust.

Mot stared in horror, shivering. His hand wouldn't start shaking as he got up. Very slowly his gaze moved from the quickly cooling body to the wide open door.

Author's Note: Cheers for the return of Ahaneith and Nebit, Harry getting his ass moving, and Mot! Ka-na-na is based on the proto-Canaanite civilization that formed in the region northeast of Egypt. This is related to the biblical Canaan, but not by much.

The fact that the Queen got quite a bit more screen time than I'd expected just happened without intending it. I wanted her to be a bit of a busybody that, compared to her husband, had time to interfere with people who worked at the palace. The fact that she dominated several scenes is because she also ended up responsible for allowing Harry more time to do his own thing. The Pharaoh is in here but plays a relatively minor role until Harry's return. Yes, Ahaneith and Nebit moving to Tjenu actually has a purpose, even if Harry's off on his wanderings again.

I had intended to include Mot in the next chapter, but I felt that telling some basics here was appropriate, and I'm sure some can guess that he and Harry will meet soon enough. That said, perhaps some can already hypothesize why he is important. ;)

Next chapter has Harry's arrival in the future Canaan, the clash of two religions as their representatives meet, and a small boy's fate hangs by a thread. Perhaps the greater problem, though, is not taking place where Harry is...