Harry sat on a large rock that reached over the water of Heka's Oasis with her legs hanging over the edge. The rock was tall enough that only her feet were able to reach the cool water. There was a small baby crocodile that was swimming with another creature that looked like a weasel with a cat head and something that looked like gems sticking out from its spiky fur. Each would take turns at trying to nibble on her toes anytime they were in the water, making Harry think they were playing a game with each other and her toes.

"The creatures here like you." Heka stated from her throne. "I am pleased."

"Why?" Harry asked as she turned to look over her shoulder.

"It makes things much easier." She replied plainly. Harry scoffed and turned back to the water. Heka was no different from Dumbledore in many ways. Speaking cryptically, being the most obvious and irritating reason. "I am insulted by that comparison." She at least sounded a little upset.

Harry sighed again. She had absolutely no privacy with this…person. "You have given me precious little to go on." Harry replied perhaps a bit too harshly. She was understandably upset with the situation however so she could be forgiven for her caustic words.

"I hold my words for your benefit." Heka spoke calmly.

Harry glared at the large woman over her shoulder. "My benefit?" Harry asked snidely. She quickly looked back to the swimming creatures when one of them managed to bite her big toe. The weird cat-weasel was doing tight backward loops under the water, making her think it was that one that nipped her. "I don't like being left out of the loop, especially when other people are making decisions for me."

"I'm not leaving you out of my plans," Heka insisted, "Due to your experience, and your comparing myself to that old fool, I fear that giving you all the details of my plan that I have planted and grown," the Goddess paused, "would overwhelm you." Heka explained, her voice surprisingly tender.

Harry pushed her foot under the little crocodile and brought it up out of the water. The little creature looked around while making soft sounds that sounded like laser guns before it scrambled from her foot and jumped back into the water, attacking the cat-weasel once it came close.

"Are they so lofty?" Harry asked as she blocked the cat-weasel so that the crocodile could catch up to it and bite its tail.

"They could be," Heka admitted with some regret, "I miscalculated the mortal heart once before. I do not intend to make that mistake again." Heka spoke with a harsher edge to her words.

The cat-weasel turned on the crocodile, chasing it and biting its tail several times in a row. Harry lifted the crocodile out of the water with her foot once more. The cat-weasel tried to climb up onto Harry's foot after the crocodile so she lifted her leg more. The crocodile ran happily up her leg until it got to her thigh, where it laid down and looked up at her while still making the laser gun sound. Harry smiled down at the little lizard and pet its head as gently as she could.

"You're talking about this 'Imhotep'?" Harry affirmed as much as she questioned.

Harry could feel Heka's nod. "I am. It was easier to come to him, speak to him of my plan. My brothers and sisters still had influence on the land back then. He knew of us. Believed in us. So he accepted his place in my Grand Plan with little convincing. He was proud to serve me." She revealed without the expected haughtiness in her tone.

Harry thought on her words as she watched the crocodile jump off her leg and back into the water. "Is that what you really want? You want your worshipers back?" Harry suggested as she considered the Goddess's words.

"The other Gods may require Temples and worshipers to maintain their power but I do not. This Oasis is the source of my power. The water flows from the heavens to the mortal realm, where it soaks into those I have chosen to hold that power. Those chosen give me a small amount of influence within the mortal realm." Heka explained. "But I need more."

Harry turned back to Heka now that the crocodile and cat-weasel were finished playing. "Why do you need more influence?" Harry requested of the Goddess, not really expecting an answer.

Heka smiled fondly at her. "I remember when the universe was still young. A time before the Earth was green or humans were even born. Before even the Gods were born. I existed before duality even came into existence." Heka made a strange movement with her right hand. "I helped bring my brothers and sisters into existence and so they need my power to influence your realm and worshipers to solidify that connection. I want to bring them back, but cannot. Diminished as I am now." She spoke sadly.

Harry was surprised to receive such an honest answer. Dumbledore would have talked circles around her and only given her enough information to keep her on the path he needed. It made Harry warm up to the woman, if only just.

"How," she paused as she licked her lips and offered the Goddess a timid trust, "How do I fit into your plan?" Harry asked hesitantly. While she was desperate to know everything this woman had in store for her, she was afraid of having to face more hardships and heartache.

"You do not need to feel that fear anymore." Heka assured Harry in a way very similar to how Molly Weasley always did. "You are more powerful than you know."

"How am I more powerful? I'm still just a kid." Harry knew she was nearly eighteen at this point but she didn't not yet feel like a true adult.

"When Imhotep fell, I realized he needed someone to…" Heka made another hand motion that Harry recognized as her considering her words. "...govern him. I saw that he was a wildfire, a maelstrom waiting to ravage the land." She turned her kind eyes back to Harry. "I crafted your soul thousands of years ago when I realized what was missing from my Grand Plan. Unfortunately, Egypt fell to her enemies before I could finish." Heka's words trailed off as she looked down.

Harry's heart broke for the woman. Harry still wasn't sure if she was who she said she was, but it sounded like losing Egypt hurt her deeply. "So you, what? Just put my soul on a shelf until you were ready?"

Heka tilted her head to the left. "Not exactly. All souls that use my Gift pass through my body on their way to the mortal realm. I was not willing to send you to be born until I was confident the time was perfect so I held your soul within myself until everything was ready."

"And it was perfect when I was born? During a war?" Harry asked incredulously.

Heka shrugged elegantly. "I was not worried about the war, for it was nearly over. Everything was in place for you to flourish into a formidable woman. At least until that man decided to interfere." Heka sneered.

Harry knew that Dumbledore interfered with her plan and made Harry's life so much harder than it should have been. She decided that she didn't want to know how her life could have been if he had chosen to listen to Heka rather than his own ego. She didn't need more hatred within her heart.

One of her statements suddenly came to the forefront of Harry's mind. "You said you held my soul in your body while all others passed through you." Harry paused as Heka nodded. "That did something to my soul, didn't it?" Harry tried not to ask that question too accusingly.

Heka smiled fondly at Harry. "You are correct. You spent over three thousand years within me. Your soul absorbed much of my magic during that time. At this point…" Heka hesitated to continue.

"At this point what?" Harry insisted and Heka relented.

"You…aren't a typical magic user. That I'm sure you've come to understand," Heka grimaced slightly. "You can hardly even be considered mortal anymore."

Harry blanched. "How can I not be mortal?!" She demanded.

"It's a complicated scenario, not something I intended, but not something I bemoan." Heka put up a soothing hand. "As your soul absorbed my power, it also absorbed a small part of my Divine self." Heka smiled warmly at Harry. "You hold the power of a God within you. You merely have to accept it and it will be yours."

Harry startled awake with a pounding heart. These visions were as aggravating as they were illuminating, though this one really took the cake. Before Harry could even begin to think on her words, Zalika walked into her room. Harry was immediately concerned when she noticed that the young girls' head was hung low and she was missing all other usual spunk.

"Zalika? Are you ok?" Harry asked.

Zalika sighed softly. "I am fine. I am just worried about my mother."

Harry waited for Clione to appear as well, but there was no noise beyond the bedroom.

"Is Clione with her?" Harry placed a gentle hand on Zalika's shoulder.

Zalika gave her a strained smile. "Yes, she is. I wanted to stay as well but we could not leave you untended."

Harry felt a wave of disgust wash over her. "Nonsense!" She exclaimed, surprising Zalika into looking at her with big, wet eyes. "I will not stand by and let you work while you're worried sick about your mother!"

Zalika gave her a small, genuine smile. "But I cannot leave you here alone."

Harry thought about it for a moment before she had an idea. "What if I went with you?" Harry suggested softly. Zalika looked at her with a larger smile. "It could be like the other day. When you two took me to the Market?"

A few tears fell down her cheeks before she launched herself forward and wrapped Harry in a tight hug. "Thank you! Thank you so much!" Zalika sobbed into Harry's neck. Harry let her cry out her fear and pain for a moment before nudging her back up.

"Dry your tears and get changed." Harry quietly commanded the girl.

Zalika nodded vigorously before jumping off the bed and running out of the bedroom. Harry couldn't help but feel happy about being able to help Zalika calm down and make her happy by letting her go back home to care for her mother.

Harry got up out of bed and walked down the steps to the small dresser Harry had asked the girls to move into her bedroom so she could dress herself instead of having to bug them. She pulled out an outfit very similar to the one she wore out to the market except this one was a darker brown with lighter brown designs. She quickly got dressed and pulled her hair into an unruly ponytail. A still smiling Zalika met her just outside her bedroom. Harry thought that her clothes looked very similar to the clothes she wore to the Market, but couldn't be sure.

"Ready?" Harry asked and Zalika nodded vigorously once more.

They walked quickly and left through the magical doorway. Harry could feel Imhotep's darkness further inside the building. She felt it move towards her and follow her as they left the building and headed out into the village. She didn't try to stifle the growing feeling of gratification knowing that she had at least a small portion of Imhotep's attention. No harm in a little self-indulgence inside the confines of her mind. Harry was sure Hermione would have a lot to say about that.

Zalika led Harry through what felt like a maze of same looking buildings until she finally opened the wooden door to one of the homes.

"Mama! Clione!" Zalika called out to the empty room that looked to Harry to be a sitting area or eating area. It was a fairly bare looking home to Harry.

"Zalika?" Clione answered as she walked through a doorway on the other side of the room that had a piece of cloth up as a door. "Oh! My Lady!" Clione exclaimed when she noticed that Harry was also there.

"Hush now. None of that." Harry walked over and gave Clione a tight hug. She felt the young girl's whole body relax. "I'm just Harry right now."

"Of course…Hari." Clione spoke her name with her accent that changed how her name sounded.

"How's mother?" Zalika asked as she walked past them and into the room Clione came out of.

"About the same, unfortunately." Clione replied as she followed her sister.

Harry was unsure if she should follow them since this was a family affair and she was not family. That worry was squashed when Clione held open the fabric barrier and beckoned her to follow. This room was much like the first room. Mostly bare with only a bed and some other pieces of small furniture.

"Mama!" Zalika knelt down next to the bed and Harry now realized that there was someone under the blankets of the bed. "Mama, how are you?" She asked softer. Their mother spoke to her daughter but she was quiet enough that Harry could not hear the response. "No, no. Our Mistress allowed me to come back to take care of you." Zalika looked over her shoulder to Harry and motioned her over to them. "She even came with me!" She said happily.

Harry came up behind Zalika and was now able to see their mother. She looked much like the girls except she had slighter darker skin than them. Her long black hair was laying in just about every direction and was also wet from her sweat and just overall very dirty. The sheen of sweat on her forehead was the only clue Harry had that she had a fever. "This is our mother, Farida."

"Hello there. I'm very happy to know your daughters. They're both quite wonderful." Harry assured the sick woman.

She smiled as much as she could but it was clear how sick she really was. "I am glad." She said weakly.

Zalika stood up quickly and walked over to her sister. "Did you make her something to eat yet?" She asked firmly.

"I've got the base started but I haven't finished it yet." Clione replied.

Harry knelt down by their sick mother where Zalika had been. "You look quite ill. Is there anything I can do to help you?" She asked lamely.

…You can heal her…

Harry heard the voice that she now knew was Heka speaking to her in her mind. The sick woman shook her head weakly.

'I am not a healer,' Harry thought along the same connection she heard Heka. She felt it would be at least weird to speak out loud to a voice in her head in front of other people. Excluding Imhotep, she figured from what little she knew about his power and abilities.

…You are so much more…

Harry looked down at the sick woman once more. She had closed her eyes and seemed to at least be resting, if not fully asleep. She could hear the girls bickering over the soup in the other room. She placed a hand on the back of Farida's neck and felt just how high her fever really was. How was she supposed to heal her? She had no wand and knew only basic healing spells. Hermione knew a couple diagnosing spells but that didn't help Harry now.

…Reach out with your magic…Find it…

Reach out with her magic? What the hell was that supposed to mean? As if on cue, she felt Imhotep's darkness that had been in the background of her mind move towards her. It was like water moving in slow motion towards her. It pushed up against her own magic in a way she had never felt before. She had no doubt that he could force his way in just like Voldemort had done, probably a lot easier than him, but he didn't. His presence, his magic pushed and rippled against her magic like he was just trying to find a spot to latch onto and hold. It was comforting in a way that a man literally dripping with dark magic was being so gentle with her.

Harry decided to try to mimic what she felt from Imhotep. It took her a little bit but managed to find her magical core and pushed it out down her arm. She found that it felt very similar to when she used wandless magic so she leaned into that feeling and continued to push it until it reached her tingling finger tips. With a bit more of a concentrated push, she was able to push it into the sleeping woman. Harry felt an exhilaration that she had never felt before. This was something that was supposed to be incredibly difficult for even the most powerful magic users and she'd managed to do it in one try. Hermione would be so jealous. Imhotep's presence moved to envelope her and pressed in slightly, almost like an embrace. Harry pushed Imhotep out of her mind for the moment. She had an objective that she still needed to complete and she was still struggling to figure out how she was going to do it. Harry closed her eyes, trying to figure out how to move her magic inside Farida. It was a slow process, like trying to direct molasses across the counter on a cool day. She felt a strange presence inside of the mother that Harry couldn't quite describe. It felt…red. And angry.

…You found it…

'What do I do now?' Harry asked her Goddess.

…Strangle it…

Harry wasn't sure how she was supposed to 'strangle' something inside another person using only wandless magic. She tried to wrap her magic sound the red color but it leaked out of her grip and back into the woman before she could tighten her hold on it. Harry thought on Heka's words, especially the use of the word strangle. Some of the visions she received from Voldemort held the answer. There was more than one way to strangle something.

Instead of trying to grip the color and strangle it from the outside, she pushed her magic into the color. It wasn't exactly like what Imhotep was trying to do to her magic but the idea was the same. The red color was destroyed as soon as it touched Harry's magic which she thought was quite interesting. In no time the bulk of the red color was gone and she was chasing after the small remnants that were spread out in her limbs. Harry was just finishing up when she heard a small gasp from behind her. She turned her head and saw Clione and Zalika standing at the doorway holding bowls of what she assumed was the soup they were bickering over earlier.

"You have magic?" Clione asked breathlessly.

"Yes." Harry replied while removing her hand from their mother. "I thought you knew that."

"No!" Clione exclaimed, rushing over to inspect her hands. "Your hand was glowing and yellow! Like gold!"

"What were you doing to our mother?" Zalika asked softly.

"I wasn't hurting her. I swear!" Harry couldn't help but try to defend herself. It must look so bad to them.

"We never assumed that, Hari." Clione soothed.

"But what were you doing?" Zalika asked once she had set the bowl down next to the bed and checked her mothers' temperature. "She's not so hot now!" She said excitedly.

Clione dropped Harry's hands and rushed over to her mother. "You're right!"

Both girls turned to look at Harry with nothing but happiness and curiosity in their eyes. "I…felt like I might be able to help her." Harry explained slowly. There was absolutely no way she could explain that she had an Ancient Egyptian Goddess talking to her and that she was told she held the power of a God without being committed to an asylum.

"You healed her?! Oh, thank you, My Lady!" Zalika launched herself at Harry and wrapped her in a tight hug for the second time today. Clione also hugged her and her sister just as tightly. They both released Harry after a moment and Harry could see now that they were both crying.

"She got sick so quickly. Do you know what she was sick with?" Clione asked as she wiped away a few happy tears.

…Poison…

Harry's blood ran cold with Heka's words. Who would poison their mother? Were they going to be safe working for Harry? It was something to think on later. Right now, she felt like she needed to be truthful with the two young girls looking at her expectantly. She decided that she would not be like Dumbledore or any of the other adults in her life and keep them in the dark indefinitely.

"She was poisoned." Harry stated firmly.

The two girls gasped in unison. "Poison?!" They screeched.

Zalika rushed over to hug their mother while Clione stayed by Harry and held onto her hands hard enough that it nearly hurt, though Harry was not going to ask her to stop. It was clear she needed reassurance.

"Who would poison our mother? What did she do?" Clione asked no one in particular. There was so much pain in her voice.

"Probably nothing." Harry replied, pulling both girls' attention back to her. Harry looked between the two of them before sighing. "In my experience, it can take very little to provoke some groups of people into murderous violence." The girls remained quiet, hanging on her every word. "You mentioned that you would have been married off after your father died had Imhotep not stepped in. It could be something related to that. Or something to do with Imhotep specifically." Harry shrugged. She was no good at investigations without Hermione around to connect the dots for her. Only rarely had she figured something out before her brilliant friend.

"Can you…" Zalika began to ask but choked on her words.

"Can you protect her?" Clione finished her sister's sentence.

Harry was lost on how she could protect their mother. She was just one person, just Harry. A nobody. She felt Imhotpe's presence again. It changed and hardened around her like armor that was serrated and impossibly sharp, just as willing to protect her as much as there was a desire to bshred/b threats to her. Harry found that she was not afraid of his darkness turning into something so dangerous. It felt like a cobra that was reared and ready to attack anything that happened by, yet she somehow knew it would never strike at her. She reached out with her own magic, though she could not manipulate it like he could, she was able to nudge at his signature ever so delicately. It immediately softened a touch from the motion. The cobra was still reared, but not so ready to attack. Harry was pleased by that if only that it meant that he might not lash out at any poor soul that happened to cross him.

"Something tells me it's already being handled." Harry told them with a smile.

The two girls smiled warmly at her words, finally relieved. Zalika set to getting her mother to eat some of the soup they made which she remarked was much easier now. Clione brought several large pillows for Harry to sit on and also brought her her own bowl of soup. It was on the bland side and heavy with a meat she couldn't place, but found it was still quite good which made the girls even happier.

Their mother did not wake up before Zalika decided that she needed to get Harry back and into bed. Harry did not agree that she needed rest, but she knew the girls needed to regain some control in their lives and let the girl set the pace. Clione gave Harry another tight hug before they left, promising to let them know if their mothers' condition changed.

Zalika chattered away as they walked back to the building that housed Harry, though Harry was not really listening to her. Her mind was whirling with what she had just done to Farida. How could she have so effortlessly performed a type of magic that should have taken her a lifetime to even be able to perform? It made her nervous in a way. If she were able to hear this person claiming to be a Goddess in her mind and they were able to coach her through performing incredibly advanced magic that she should not have been able to normally, what else were they telling the truth about? Was everything Heka said true? If she was telling the truth about everything…then Imhotep…

"Hari?" Zalika's voice jarred Harry out of her spiraling thoughts.

Harry realized that they were standing outside the magical doorway to the place Imhotep kept her. There was a question that had been niggling at the back of her brain since she woke up here. She had wanted to wait until she had more information but it was quickly becoming apparent to her that things were a lot more complicated than she had first assumed.

"You and your family have lived in this village your whole lives, right?" Harry questioned Zalika.

Zalika seemed confused by her sudden question. "Yes." She answered hesitantly.

"Then how do you know English so well?"

Zalika looked down quickly but was it due to embarrassment, shame, or something else?

"The Dread Lord, Imhotep gifted me and Clione with the ability to understand your language. I believe that extended to our mother, but I'm not sure since I don't know if she knew your language before." Zalika explained softly.

Harry rubbed the girl's upper arm soothingly. "I should have guessed he had something to do with it." Harry said with a smile which made Zalika smile again. They walked back through the magical doorway and Zalika quickly set to dressing her for bed despite Harry's fond protests. Despite not feeling tired before, as soon as her head hit the pillow, she was asleep.

The Palace of Pharaoh Seti I, inherited from his Pharaoh father before him and his Pharaoh father before him. The grand scale of the building was matched only by the opulence contained within its walls. Beautifully painted pictures of the Gods and history, statues of long dead Pharaohs, and other statues of great importance to the ruling family. The granite and marble had been painstakingly polished to a shine and kept that way by the uncountable slaves owned by Pharaoh Seti I. Everything from the rugs he stepped on to the curtains that he pushed aside were of the highest, and most expensive quality.

Imhotep stalked the empty halls of the home of his old friend, feeling wild and untamed. Like a jackal in a cage just waiting to be let free so that it can hunt and devour. After his foolishness so long ago, he had been commanded by his God to remain in the Underworld until everything was ready. To learn patience while aiding Anubis with his Scales. Now he was back in the mortal realm, ready to commence his Gods' Grand Plan, but he was commanded to wait more! How much longer must he delay?!

His anger began building in on itself, ready to drown him and the world in its fury. Imhotep was so consumed in his thunderous thoughts that he nearly missed the arrival of another presence within these dead halls. He stopped his stalking, leaning into the new aura that was slowly filling the empty palace. The glittering brilliance warmed his weary bones with its golden splendor. It called to his very soul in a way he had never felt before. He began to walk again, this time towards the new magic that was filling the palace with its grandeur. He turned to walk into the Throne Room but stopped before actually entering.

Someone was sitting on the throne and it was not Seti I. It was a young woman that he did not immediately recognize but he felt like he should know her intimately. Her body was wrapped in gold that matched her blinding golden magic. The woman beckoned him to enter the room and Imhotep walked towards the woman with carefully measured steps. It was only once she halted him with an elegant hand that he finally realized who she was.

Heka, his God of Magic, had sent many visions while he was in the Underworld. Many of them regarded a young woman with black, quarrelsome hair and unusual green eyes. Imhotep was confused at first, unsure why he was receiving this woman in a vision but his God explained it all and gave him the first true hope he had felt since that disastrous night.

This woman was the same woman from all those visions. This woman, called Hari, who Heka affectionately referred to as his daughter.

The dress she wore was designed to look like molten gold was flowing over her body and pooling on the floor beneath her. The crown on her head had many golden spears pointing outward, appearing very much like the sun rays. Her unruly black hair was done in a similar style to what Anck-Su-Namun usually wore, straight black with many golden beads braided in. She was divinity made flesh. Any Pharaoh would have made her their wife as soon as they laid eyes on her.

Imhotep was rendered speechless by her beauty. "I…" He wanted to say something, anything to the breathtaking woman that Heka crafted, but words failed him. Hari tilted her head elegantly. He walked towards her throne and kneeled in front of the stairs. "I am yours, My Goddess." He pledged to her.

"Mine?" Hari regarded him closely. Where Heka's eyes were cold yet all seeing while never truly seeing him, Hari's eyes were warm and calculating. "Do you truly believe that you deserve such a boon?" She asked coldly, voice suddenly devoid of the warmth he saw in her eyes.

Hari was the daughter of the God of Magic, the very power behind all the Gods. What could a mortal man do to deserve to have her as a wife. "No," he muttered as he gazed up at her, "But I will. Command me and it will be done." He pleaded desperately as he reached out for her, hoping she would let him touch her. To those who knew Imhotep they might assume he would have been embarrassed at how pathetic he sounded, but he knew that he would not hesitate to lay bare his feelings even with other people to bear witness to his vulnerability. He knew, deep down in the heart of his soul, that he was a weak man. If she would only have him as her husband, he would become her most loyal disciple.

Hari looked down at him, a sly smirk on her lips. "I want to rule the world. I want it to be crafted in my image." Hari leaned forward in her seat. Her right leg moved out, bringing Imhotep's hungry attention to her pale skin. "Do that and you will earn your place beside me." Hari spoke like a cat's purr, making Imhotep's blood begin to boil.

Imhotep stood and walked up the steps, not taking his eyes off the woman he hoped one day would accept him into her life and her bed. He kneeled down again, right at her feet. "It will be done," He whispered before bending down and kissing the top of her foot lovingly. Hari's amused and pleased hum resonated deeply in his bones.

Harry shot up from her bed, heart pounding and unable to get any air. The bedroom was still dark and she was alone. She tried to feel if Imhotep had just left like before, but she couldn't calm herself enough to be successful. Once she was able to finally calm herself down enough to think, one question came to her mind.

What the fuck was all that?!