CHAPTER 3 - Carry On Wayward Son (Act 1)
15 July 1994 - Khanefermerenre - Hamunaptra, 11:58AM
"DEPULSO!"
A burst of brilliant white light erupted from the 17 and ⅔-inch sycamore wand, successfully sending one of the wizard's many relentless pursuers crashing into a wall with an unholy screech. Two Everte Statums followed, sending another duo to a similar fate.
Bill Weasley was in trouble.
Very serious trouble.
He had been running non-stop for almost twenty minutes since his initial confrontation in what he assumed to be the northern chapel, though given this particular site's tendencies to alter and displace spaces like the twisting of a Rubik's cube, he really wasn't sure. Everything had happened dizzyingly fast before he'd been forced to run for his life.
Multiple attempts at a Point Me spell had all failed, his wand remaining infuriatingly inert. Using his Patronus as an envoy had also failed as had his attempt to use his emergency Cleansweep, the result of some form of nullifying magic permeating throughout the maze-like space. His legs were starting to burn and his heart was pumping furiously in tandem with his near ragged breaths, struggling to maintain enough energy to keep his pace. He was grateful for his acromantula robes, spelled to be sweatproof with copious Cooling Charms. It was his one reprieve given his current situation. In line with the day's theme, he cursed his stupidity in choosing the career of a Cursebreaker.
"You could've been-huff-a bloody Auror-huff-huff-You could have applied to Riddle's Program to get yourself a couple of Masteries… Hell, you could have even been the star Chaser for Puddlemere United but noooooo-huff-huff-huff-you're Bill-bloody-Weasley! You had to become a bloody Cursebreaker-huff-huff-being chased to your bloody death-huff-huff-by a bloody legion of the undead whilst trapped in a bloody necropolis!"
And to make matters worse, he'd lost his partner.
A blood-red spell sailed past, crashing into the wall just above his head and turning the rock-hewn surface to sludge. A sharp flick of his wand created an Impervius shield, before a few sharp twirls transfigured the debris into sharp stone stakes that he sent sailing towards his attackers. Gargled shouts of pain elicited a grim smirk of satisfaction.
He barely had time to enjoy the brief victory before a trio of acrid-yellow hexes hurtled his way. Averto thwarted two followed by a Protego Horribilis that barely staved off the third.
"EXPULSO!" The cobalt blue light slammed into three of his pursuers, giving him a brief reprieve to nonverbally cast Sticking Charms and Acid Hexes, creating a temporary bottleneck of screeching and melting mummies as he continued racing on.
'Nenet…where are you?!'
They'd been separated almost an hour prior when the horde had been set upon them. Their leader, naturally, was the furious and somehow embodied form of Sekhem-Shery the Great Elder, Royal Vizier and Dark Mage-Commander who'd risen to glory during the Sixth and Seventh Dynasties.
And as with all truly unfair things,Tjaty Sekhem was a High Priest of Apep, a Parselmouth who didn't just speak the regular language of snakes, but Apophic Parseltongue.
A shiver ran through Bill in recollection of hearing the sibilant hisses that felt as though they were literally crawling up his back, accompanied by a preternatural rattle that could only be caused by a serpent. It was always followed by the distinct sensation of suffocating in white noise, as though the very syllables of the strange language had taken tangible form to snuff the life out of him.
The keen primordial terror that flared through him at the serpentine sounds also didn't help.
'And of course, the bloody Rosetta Stone can't translate a word of what he's saying.'
Said Stone was an amulet composed of a moonsilver and goblin alloy with a diamond-shaped glowing granodiorite nestled in its surface. The center stone bore tiny indiscernible symbols over its surface that served as the runic translation matrix. It was created by one of Gringotts oldest spell-crafters a few centuries prior to help Ward-Breakers (the Cursebreakers' predecessors) to understand the ancient Kemetic language, auto-translating into its wearer's native tongue. After many frustrating efforts, it'd been discovered that hieroglyphs were immune to any kind of language translation spells, leading to the amulet's creation.
That it was unable to translate the mummy vizier's infernal hissing added another vexing layer of complication Bill could not afford at this time.
His musings were interrupted by the bloody floor falling away, self-transfiguring into a flight of seemingly endless downward steps that caused the eldest Weasley son to swear as he adjusted his speed.
Similar to Hogwarts Castle, Hamunaptra was a sentient necropolis, the gilded edifice created several millennia ago by the High Mage Priests of Amun, Anubis, Heka, and Ra. A culmination of High Magick wizardspace and temporal charms that forged the true final resting place of the Great Pharaohs and their chosen Queens and Consorts, impenetrable from breaches by blood warding spells of the High Mages' own creation.
And like with all truly mysterious and arcane things, Hamunaptra existed everywhere and…nowhere.
The sentient city of the dead would pick and choose which pyramid would host its entryway to the necropolis, usually found in the heart of the pharaoh's burial chamber where the ley line magic was the strongest. Said doorway would only 'appear' during the summer solstice and remain open until the equinox, wherein it would disappear at the literal stroke of midnight. This year's chosen entryway was Khanefermerenre, the final resting place for Pharaoh Merenre Nemtyemsaf.
While the next equinox wouldn't be until September, Bill had absolutely no desire for himself or his partner to end up trapped in this hellscape labyrinth for any additional duration of time.
'We'll just have to tell the Goblins The Alpha Package was unsecured and try again later in the -' "GAH!"
One of the creatures succeeded in tripping him before scuttling up the wall like an inhuman spider as the others followed.
Repressing his reflexive snarl Weasley lightly dilated his perception, tucking himself into a roll as his increasingly speeding body bounced hard down the stone steps. He had enough of a mind to use his Occlumency to repress his capacity to feel pain.
Reaching deep within his psyche Bill focused, and in a flash his form blurred into a ginger-furred wolverine.
It was perfect timing as a trio of the undead pounced with lethal intent towards him, rotted maws stretched wide revealing surprisingly well-preserved sharp teeth. The animagus deftly leapt and twisted its form, extending its claws and slashing viciously at the closest face. The creature emitted a ghastly shriek of pain before crumbling, joined by another who suffered a similar fate.
The third was a bit more persistent and clever. It leapfrogged to land in front of the animagus to block its path, emitting an unholy shriek as it began rapidly advancing.
As Redmond wasn't a run-of-the-mill wolverine, the mummy stood no chance. The furry creature vaulted directly into its face with mouth wide open, powerful jaws clamping right around the shrieking carcass' head. Using his sharp claws as an anchor, the wolverine tightened his jaws and twisted hard, successfully ripping the corpse's head off as its now headless body crumpled.
Spitting out the rotted and rancid flesh, Redmond once more blurred and in a blink was replaced by the form of Bill.
"GLISSEO!"
The steps transformed into a slide, and shifting into a crouch, Bill soon reached the bottom.
"RESINA CONCALFA." Thick blasts of ichor-colored resin shot out of the sycamore wand, coating the ramp. Additional flicks transfigured the stairwell into a narrow stone box with a very small circular opening, perfectly wand-level. Almost immediately he registered the scuttling of undead feet, followed by the ferocious bellow of Sekhem-Shery preceded by that accursed hissing.
Weasley didn't hesitate.
"INCENDIO!" A thin gout of flame poured through the opening and created a napalm bomb, setting the beasties aflame. Their ghastly shrieks were deafening, but not enough to distract Bill as he ventured deeper into this new space.
"LUMOS SOLEM." A bright orb of light separated from his wand tip and levitated to illuminate the room.
It was quite large, stretching as far as the eye could see on either side and paired with a high ceiling that resembled that of Hogwarts' Great Hall. Like all others within Hamunaptra, its walls were made of gilded flawless rock, bearing several hieroglyphic inscriptions. The handful Bill could understand were references to passages from The Book of the Dead, causing him to quickly avert his gaze.
Now was not the time to open up that particular can of worms.
A few seconds passed before he realized that the room resembled a perfect rectangle, almost unnaturally linear.
No sooner had he made that realization did he hear a strange noise, like the grinding of several gears. His sun orb flicked up higher, causing his eyes to widen.
The ceiling was descending, and given the day's event's it was safe to assume that given enough time, it would inevitably crush him to a pulp.
Of course, his makeshift killbox chose that exact moment to explode outward, revealing the enraged and partially burned form of Sekhem-Shery the Great Elder, eldritch-green eyes blazing with the promise of violent vengeance.
'You've got to be fucking joking!'
The killer mummy roared again, the sound both distorted and wrathful. He was strikingly tall and uncommonly handsome for the undead, his nearly 7-foot tall stature towering over Bill's own.
Despite being dead for well over a millennium, his oddly iridescent skin bore little sign of decay and was stretched tautly over his sinewy muscles, save for the patches of still-burning flesh which, to Bill's mounting horror, seemed to be regenerating like a snake's! He was draped in gold-embroidered black ceremonial robes displaying status as both royal vizier and a High Priest of Apep, the woven serpentine motifs shimmying about to-and-fro whilst hissing infernally.
In his left hand was a mage staff almost as tall as he, fashioned into a horned viper whose stone-like scales were made of glistening malachite, emeralds, and jade. Its unblinking amber-gold eyes were just as furious as its master's, emitting a series of unintelligible snarling hisses that caused an unbidden tremor to slither up the Cursebreaker's back.
The Parselmage drew a deep breath before speaking in the tongue of the Old Kingdom. "...Hef-day hekau khet nehet… Wenut…inek khedeb tjut!" Weasley blinked, realizing that the Stone had failed to translate what he knew was Ancient Kemetic.
'...That can't be good.'
Sekhem then hissed, causing the maw of his mage staff to open impossibly wide, practically perpendicular to the floor. Bill had less than a moment to comprehend the horrific sight before a massive ball of hundreds of writhing asps poured from its mouth and raced towards him.
"IHIPYU-SsSsSETNAH!"
'SHITE!'
"MALEDIGNIS!" Roiling purple flames raced from Bill's wand towards this new enemy, fanning out to swarm the killer snakes.
Not waiting to see which of their number were destroyed, the Cursebreaker frantically looked around for an escape, peripherally registering the ceiling's increasing descent to flatten them all.
'How the HELL am I supposed to get out of here?!'
Almost as if the necropolis had heard his pleas and decided on magnanimity, a strange black door appeared in the northernmost wall. It was about half his size, not nearly tall enough for him to fit through, but more than enough room for Redmond.
'I guess that will do it!'
Casting another bout of the Flesh-Eating Fire Curse Bill turned and raced towards the door, slashing his wand in "CISTEM APERIO!"
The door banged open and in a blink, Redmond replaced Bill to bound through the dark tunnel. It took less than a moment for him to register that something was following him.
The wolverine chanced a look back, immediately wishing he hadn't.
A mammoth-sized king cobra chased after him, its ink-black and olive green scales shimmering ominously in the tunnel's darkness. Its giant hood flared threateningly, emphasized by the enraged hissing it emitted. Eldritch green eyes glinted with lethal intent, signaling the snake animagus' desire to consume and destroy the prey before it.
Ignoring the base panic fueled by pure animal instinct Redmond bravely charged on, registering that the tunnel seemed to be shrinking. A chilling HISSSSS sounded just behind his left ear, paws desperately clack-clack-clacking against the stone surface as he increased his speed. The hissing increased in volume as the tunnel began to press in tighter against them, the horrific sound accompanied by the preternatural sensation of being smothered by a BUZZZZZZZ of white noise.
Every hair on the wolverine's body stood up in alarm.
It felt like eternity of a cat-and-mouse chase before Redmond's superior sense of smell detected open air.
Desperation combined with adrenaline pushed the racing wolverine to thrust himself forward in a giant leap whilst shifting back into Bill.
THUMP.
"ASCENDIO!"
The spell propelled him in a straight line right into the open air space, which he realized in his fully dilated state was a vast cavern whose ground-level was hundreds of feet below.
Twisting his body mid-jump, he witnessed the king cobra just about to emerge from the tunnel, the menacing glint of dripping fangs matching the sinister glow of those chilling eyes. As always, the Cursebreaker fought to physically repress the bizarre buzz of suffocating white noise that accompanied the infernal hisses pouring from the being's mouth.
Suddenly the king cobra leapt just as Redmond had, comically slow through Bill's still-dilated perception.
'Like hell you are!'
THUMP.
"REDUCTO!"
The spell rushed out of his wand and slammed into the tunnel directly, erupting in a shower of broken stone debris. To his immense satisfaction he heard a shrieking hiss of pain and rage, hoping the damned undead Parselmouth had met his demise.
Weasley's victory was short-lived as the blowback force of the explosion caused chunks of stone to slam hard into his face and head, drawing pained grunts. He'd thankfully ended his dilation as he began freefalling down the cavern, slowly losing consciousness as injury combined with exhaustion amidst the loud whistling of air against his ears as gravity dragged him downward.
He had just enough mind to gargle out an Arresto Momentum to slow down his fall before reaching the ground. The moment his body gently touched its endpoint, Cursebreaker Weasley mercifully surrendered to unconsciousness.
Dining Hall - Castle Warrington - Mid-Cheshire Ridge - Lancashire, 1:13PM
Pausing to take a sip of ice-cold milk, Cassius dug into his honey and double raspberry pie, savoring the fruity sweet taste. Chert had really outdone himself, preparing all of the young wizard's favorite meals since his return home.
He was the sole diner at the table, another bit of respite Heir Warrington was pleased for. While he enjoyed Father's company as much as was expected, each also preferred having their moments of relative solitude. Besides, the upcoming Quidditch World Cup meant that Antonius was spending a considerable amount of his time with the Montrose Magpies, observing and schmoozing as needed. Cassius would be joining him in the week leading up to the Cup, presenting the perfect father-son image one would expect from a Lord and his Heir.
It was one of the few moments of respite since…everything.
His jaw ticked in reminder of The Worst Night of His Life, the frightening memories of his time at Cauchemar Abbey that were forever etched in the fabric of his mind.
Cassius reflexively brushed his hand over his neck in recollection of That Hand squeezing the life out of him.
A shudder ran unbidden through his form as he pushed the disturbing thoughts of his near-death experience away.
The Worst Night of His Life had set in motion the path to Heir Warrington's new future, and it was one he was not willing to waste.
He simply had too much to lose.
Having to sit through the Yaxley brothers condescending to him about the ins-and-outs of Durmstrang, nerves grating at Giles' ceaseless arrogance and open hostility towards him. Albert was only slightly more tolerable, but he was of a sharper and more clever tongue than his brother and thus was far more effective at getting under Cassius' skin.
Doubly so when he was Chosen for House Bogatyr and proved the brothers right in their initial sneering assessment that he would not end up in House Chernobog or House Zmeyevich like he'd so wanted.
However, the House of Knight-Mages had been rather eye-opening for the former Slytherin despite its glaring similarities to Hogwarts' Gryffindor, albeit a considerably more disciplined version.
Those Chosen for House Bogatyr were just as opinionated as he was, and though there was strong regard for venerating wizarding traditions, Cassius found that spewing the pureblood bigotry of olde would not be tolerated. He'd learned that the hard way when he'd run his mouth against his Housemates Luka Petrovski and Marko Mitreski when he'd called them "dirty mudbloods who obviously weren't from any proper wizarding families!"
His humiliation at being thoroughly subdued by a muggle style of fighting called Da Dao by each wizard on two separate occasions in the Central Common Room, much to the entertainment of most of the present Bogatyrs - most notably Star Seeker Viktor Krum.
It had been a humbling and well-deserved lesson in understanding that Cassius Warrington being himself would not be tolerated within his new House.
Chivalry, personal excellence, and a complete rejection of fear in any form were the tenets of the House, and that included any fear based in misguided dogma that touted anyone as inherently superior based solely on one's bloodline.
It helped that the countries of the magical Balkans had successfully adopted the true Slytherin Solution, adopting muggleborns into wizarding families after wiping the memories of them and their birth families to allow for a more seamless transition.
Within House Bogatyr, superiority was demonstrated by one's ability, preferably with the magimartial arts. Their House possessed a strong martial bent and in many ways, was modeled after a military academy very similar to the Durmstrang League of olde. Cassius had been surprised to learn that the reputation of his House was the reason for Durmstrang's long-standing notoriety as a militaristic academic institution.
Several students within his House lived up to the reputation of budding warrior-mages, with many holding rank within the European Junior Dueling Tournament. His yearmate Olga Zedescu was the reigning Wolfram Champion of the League's Open Class, gunning for the Aurum Champion position in the upcoming competition. Fiammetta Montessi - rising Fifth Year - was also aiming for the Aurum Champion position, though that was moreso a testament to her ambition than anything else. Cousin Giles also had his eyes on the same prize, though Heir Warrington was certain that whatever 'arcane magicks' he learned as a Black Wolf wouldn't give him the advantage he thought he deserved.
A deeply vindictive part of Cassius also hoped he would be able to bear witness to the smarmy buggering twat receiving a thorough arse-kicking.
Matthieu Kama and Victoire Rousseau were of a similar mind, and Heir Warrington - after a considerably rocky start due to the ex-Slytherin's unrelenting ego - was pleased to consider them friends and they in kind.
Brushing aside his thoughts, Cassius finished his dessert and swiftly made his way to the upstairs suites, peripherally hearing the soft pops of Chert clearing the table.
Venturing to the east wing of the ancient castle, Cassius soon reached his suite, pausing to stare at the sprigs of flowering holly and juniper framing the doorway with an unreadable expression. Sighing, he ventured into his room and quickly shrugged out of his summer robes and made his way over into his closet, specifically a bloodlocked hidden cuddy on the westernmost wall.
This hiding place held certain items discreetly retrieved from one of the subterranean vaults nestled deep within Castle Warrington and only accessible to the Lord or his Heir.
A set of garments created of shimmering moonsilver thread and embroidered with ornate patterns of blackthorn flowers were slowly placed over his body, followed by a pair of dragonhide boots with sprigs of nightshade flawlessly sewn into the leather by house elf magic and bearing heels reinforced with moonsilver caps.
A papal cross forged of moonsilver and teeming with protective runes was draped across his neck. It'd been gifted to his ancestor Dunstan Warrington by Monsignor Eduardo Borghese some centuries past. A St. James Cross strapped to a charmed dragonhide bracelet slid over his wrist, a personal gift to Dunstan from Abraham Van Helsing.
Holy water blessed by Borghese was sprinkled all over his body, with the original Unbreakable phial and built-in aspergillum tucked into his robes pocket. Two satchels of crushed mustard seed followed, one placed in each pocket. Cassius then reached for a miniature flask containing strong garlic-scented holy oil, rubbing the reeking concoction over his pulse points and through his hair.
'I'm going to need a very long bath after all this is over.'
Blood-locking the cuddy and emerging from his closet, Cassius called out:
"Shale!"
A soft pop sounded. "Yes, young master?"
"Visiting hours."
His valet nodded once despite the slight nervousness in her countenance. "Right away, young master!" She extended her hand, and together, the two were apparated into the entry room of Lady Warrington's quarters. Cassius peripherally registered her popping away, knowing she would be stationed just outside the door.
Just in case.
As always, his mother's lodgings were shrouded in darkness, only offset by the warm yellow glow of charmed lamplight. Her suite was tastefully decorated in the manner befitting a noble Lady, a stylish combination of English Romanesque and gothic elements highlighted by opulent French rococo accents favored by the Bonnevies of the Ancien Régime.
He'd never cared for the space before, too focused on infinitely more 'important tasks' of broom riding, impromptu Quidditch games, and basking in the attention of being Antonius' only son and Heir whilst lording his position over his less-privileged cousins.
"You… stink!"
The tone was harsh and rasping, as though wrested from a throat that spent years yearning for moisture but never receiving.
"...Hello mother."
A snarling hiss was his response, finally signaling him to the witch's position.
The scowling form of Juliana Warrington was huddled in a corner, her pale face standing in stark relief against her gossamer black robes and the creamy textures in the background. Inky veins stood out across her face, creating strange patterned fissures. Her dark-red hair was pulled back from her face in an elegant chignon that further highlighted her pallid expression. Arctic blue orbs stared unblinkingly at Cassius, their gleam both assessing and predatory. A glistening sheen of sweat coated her face and she looked to be slightly shivering, as though in the grips of a light fever.
'About as normal as can be expected.'
Ever since The Worst Night of His Life, Lady Warrington's life had been irrevocably changed. Cassius could still recount the horror he'd felt when his near lifeless mother had been unceremoniously dumped in the large study and billiard room where her son had almost been strangled to death. The room was mostly empty by then, sparing father and son the indignity of being seen dragging a limp Juliana through the Floo.
They'd made it to her suite and got her into the bed. Cassius had thought it most strange that she was so feverish and seemingly bloodless, but he'd chalked it up to Grandfather using some dark curse on her as punishment for her son's sins.
Then… she'd changed.
Antonius had recognized the signs almost immediately amidst her gut-wrenching screams, and the memory of his father's panicked and horrified voice summoning Marble and Granite to restrain his wife was forever burned in Cassius' memories. He vaguely recalled his shocked outrage at Shale apparating him to his quarters, screaming at the elf to "take me back to my mother this instant!" She'd been unmoved, magicking him into bed before warding his door to prevent his exit.
Once the dust settled, an exhausted and defeated Antonius joined his son and after successfully calming down the agitated boy, made him swear the necessary oaths before divulging the true secret of House Selwyn.
"Marble's already fed me, though I won't say no if you're offering."
He expertly bit back his shudder at that suggestive statement, ignoring the hairs rising on his neck.
Her current diet consisted of fresh blood drained from muggle victims that came from all over England so as to not draw any suspicion. Marble handled the offensive task, placing the muggles into a deep sleep with the Lulls-of-Bes before draining them dry and Vanishing the bodies. Their blood was kept under Stasis Charms in Unbreakable Jars, fed to the witch thrice a week.
"Why are you here again?" she asked snidely.
"Same as always," was the gentle reply. "Just checking in on you."
She scoffed. "Funny. Your mother is a human and you barely paid her the time of day. She's now a vampire and you just seem soooo…eager… to be in her presence." He ignored her jibe whilst focusing on her smile, her sharp canine fangs shining with unnatural brilliance in the low-lit room. Instinctively Cassius tightened his grip on his wand and prepared to unholster his knife-cross, working to keep his breathing level from her inhuman hearing. Granted, she was infinitely more agreeable than when she'd first…transformed.
The horrifying image of her snarling and feral form still gave him the occasional nightmare, and according to the research he'd been able to scramble together, that stage would have only lasted for nine weeks instead of an entire year if she'd been under the guardianship of her sangpère - that is, the one who turned her.
Grandfather was obviously not in the mood to do that.
The third time he'd visited, he'd nearly shat himself when his mother commented that she could hear the blood pumping through his veins and it sounded so thirst-quenching. Cassius had screamed for Shale and without hesitation, his valet apparated him straight to his bedroom with the express warning to not visit his mother again for at least a month.
'And they made her this way!' The leering faces of Cousin Cassilda, Auntie Camilla, and Great-Uncle Merihem looped through his mind, substitutes for Grandfather since he hadn't a clue what the vampire-mage looked like.
'All their tripe about 'preserving the pure of blood', not sullying ourselves with lessers, 'die-mudbloods-die!', and the whole time, their bloodline is tainted with the fucking undead!'
He swallowed back his rage, fighting to keep his heart from beating too fast and enticing his mother.
"So," she asked snidely. "How's school?"
Her son realized that his mother had yet to blink, but nonetheless gave her an abridged version of his current schooling situation. Truth be told she looked completely uninterested in what he was saying, but he was willing to pretend that this was the indulgent Juliana of olde. Midway, he realized that she was inching closer to him, subtle enough to not be noticeable had he not already been paying keen attention.
Just as he was about to finish, she struck.
Had he not been so focused, Cassius was certain he would be writhing in agony under her lethal bite. Thankfully, he'd had enough mind to loosen one satchel of mustard seed that he blew directly into her face and open snarling mouth. Her eyes widened as she began audibly wheezing as though in the grips of an asthma attack, shrieking as droplets of holy water were flicked into her face that caused the flesh to sizzle.
"SHALE!"
POP!
WHOOSH!
The blur of elven apparition disappeared as a panicked Cassius realized he was back in his room.
"You stay here young master, Marble and I will take her off the Mistress." And with that stern warning, his valet popped away to help attend to Juliana.
Hunched over and drawing ragged breaths to loosen his panic, Cassius didn't bother holding back his bitter tears, screaming as he punched the carpeted floors to unleash all of the pent up frustration and fury he'd bottled up deep within his heart and mind.
His blood boiled with anger and resentment at his current situation, the feeling compounded by the guilt he felt for inciting the Selwyns' wrath in the first place. He wept at his powerlessness for being unable to strike back at The Family. He wept at the rage he felt towards his father's continued deference towards House Selwyn when they'd so thoroughly fractured House Warrington, coupled with his refusal to have anything to do with Juliana.
And most of all, he wept for his mother he lost on The Worst Night of His Life, knowing the humanity he'd taken for granted would never be bestowed upon her again.
When no more tears came, Cassius mustered up his remaining strength and dignity to march to his closet and open the hidden cuddy, disrobing and returning all the items he'd used earlier. His hand brushed over the small chest that held his mother's wand - 9 inches hawthorn with coral core. It'd rejected her, the wood causing her skin to burn when she'd attempted to touch it.
'Just another thing they took from her.'
Taking deep practiced breaths he retreated from his closet and made his way to his bathroom to begin his ablutions. A few minutes later he sank into the sprawling tub, sighing at the soothing feel of the hot water and soapy bubbles surrounding his skin.
While he hadn't the means to take The Family head-on at the current moment, he did have enough time and resources to plan. While he'd been initially put out by being Bogatyr, he'd come to realize just what a boon he'd been given. Though the House of Knight Mages all lived by a code of chivalry and personal honor, their greatest goal was their pledge to use their arms and their magic against The Darkness and to protect the innocent against monsters and dark wizards.
The most evil of The Darkness had come to House Warrington and wrought havoc against his innocent mother, rendering her into a monster.
Heir Warrington would find any and all arms and magicks to defeat it if it was the last thing he did.
1:57PM
A sharp gasp of air marked Bill Weasley's return to wakefulness.
Wincing and groaning, he took a moment to assess the extent of his injuries. His head rung like mad and three large gashes across the left side of his face bled profusely. The thick taste of copper in his mouth and the throbbing of his right jaw indicated that he'd at least lost one tooth.
No sooner did he shift into a sitting position did he register a faraway screaming from the void above that grew increasingly louder. He immediately recognized the voice.
"Nenet! Thank Merlin!"
His relief turned to horror as he realized the witch was not slowing down.
"ARRESTO MOMENTUM!"
Her screams quieted as she realized she wasn't tumbling to her death, visibly sagging in relief as she recognized the form and voice of her savior.
Weasley's magic gently guided her to the ground, causing them both to exhale. Like magnets they drew close to each other, assessing how much damage the other had sustained. They worked as one to administer first aid, sighing as they felt their healing magic and potions take hold as they clung to each other.
"Nenet," Bill whispered reverently as his large hand cradled her cheek.
"Bill," she replied, running a gentle hand through his hair.
Baby blue gazed intently into deep brown, allowing many unspoken words to gather and dissipate. He ignored the cool metal of her wedding ring pressing into his face. Nenet Magdy (née Kolumbiko) was a married woman, though happily was up for debate considering it had been an arranged marriage for political gain orchestrated by her mother and her husband's father.
They broke apart though their hands linked together on instinct.
"Where are we?"
"Not sure," she replied as she quickly unholstered her wand - 15 inch mopane with Tebo heartstring. A quick flick bathed the expansive area in the light of a nonverbal Lumos Solem. "We're in the wabet!" Nenet gazed around in brief wonder at the ancient and exceptionally well-preserved and surprisingly immense ceremonial room as she absorbed its many details.
Suddenly, she frowned.
Bill opted for levity at the turn in her expression. "I can assume us being in the purification room being chased by a homicidal mummy is a bad thing."
"But that's just it! We shouldn't be in the wabet at this time. I spent hours before this mission finagling all of the arithmancy formulas that decode the various configurations of the many spaces within Hamunaptra. Given the date and the time of our entrance, I successfully calculated exactly which configurations would occur today, down to the minutiae! I even created a corresponding pictograph map to aid us, but everything's been thrown into disarray. None of the calculations I made were correct, and while I recognize that this is a sentient necropolis and thus isn't completely 'predictable', it's been acting completely haywire! Every single room we've gone through since entering this place has tried to kill us! Almost as if…"
Her partner frowned as he watched her brilliant mind whir through the possibilities.
"What? What is it?"
"It's him." Her tone was grave, causing Weasley to tighten their joint grasp. "He shouldn't be here."
"...Huh?"
"Sekhem-Shery is a High Priest of Apep, meaning he was…is… a high-ranking worshiper who venerates the Serpent-Demon. Said deity is regarded as a Chaos-Bringer, a Dweller in Darkness from whom the Tenth Region of the Night was born, the deepest chasm of terror in the Duat. All that is feared and should be feared outside the divine order of the cosmos and creation; The Serpent of the Nile… The Enemy of Ra… The Lord-Bringer of Chaos… He-Who-Can-Supplant-the-Will… He is the boat-crashing rapids, the apocalyptic, primordial devourer of the sun, light, and life. The very words of Apep were believed to have the ability to unravel Reality itself and thus should never be spoken out loud."
Bill was immediately reminded of the psychic feelings of unnatural fright and panic when he heard Sekhem hissing.
"If that's the case, why the hell was he made a royal vizier?! And then buried with the Pharaoh?!"
Nenet sighed. "Because of his ability to cause destruction. Such power makes it easier than naught to conquer an enemy and his or her kingdom, so that Pharoah, embodied by the life-giving power of Ra, could rebuild the conquered in his image. Someone like Sekhem-Shery and other similar cultists were considered a 'necessary evil', and that was only made possible by swearing fealty to the Pharaoh."
She paused for a breath.
"Regarding your second question…he wouldn't be buried with Pharaoh, never. Because of the fealty oaths tying him to the king, his final resting place would be an unbreachable sarcophagus magically transported into the Abyss by a High Priest of Horus or a High Priestess of Isis." Nenet shifted. "Forever contained in The Wells of Darkness…the magiphysical space that surrounds Khanefermerenre and its thaumaturgical counterpart in Hamunaptra. He should not be able to cross over. There must be a breach somewhere, a leak of some sort."
It took great effort for her partner not to groan.
"In fact," Nenet continued. "I imagine it's why Hamunaptra has been acting so strangely! It's trying to get rid of him! I suppose we're collateral damage though, but still! This space is consecrated to Ra, alongside Heka, Amun, and Anubis, and I imagine the influence of Heka - the god of magic - is why Sekhem can even inhabit this space and use spells. Ra is the primordial enemy of Apep, and thus on an innate level, whatever aspect is imbued into this place is actively working to destroy him."
"And how the hell do we get out of here before this entire Merlin-forsaken edifice crumbles around us?" growled Bill.
"I honestly haven't a clue but-"
A strange rumbling filled the cavernous space, like the loud displacement of earth.
"What the-"
BOOOOOOM!
"PROTEGO HORRIBILIS!"
The matching Cursebreakers' shields sprung over their forms just as the easternmost wall exploded in a shower of smoldering masonry. Though it was well over a 100 feet away, the concussive force tangibly pushed them backwards.
It was accompanied by a bellow of pure rage soon followed by a cacophony of furious hisses that forced the pair to physically recoil as they gripped their wands tighter.
The Parselmage emerged from the rubble, clearing the mess away with a sharp wave of his mage staff as he glared hatefully at the Cursebreakers, oozing lethal intent. Not having the chance earlier, the two noticed a distorted halo surrounding his towering frame, like an aura actively warping the space around it. Bill then recalled Nenet's warning about Apep being the embodiment of chaos whose very words could unravel Reality.
'Blimey…he might end up opening a bloody void to suck us all up!'
As one the Cursebreakers tightened their holds on their wands, prepared for an offensive reprisal. Sekhem-Shery viciously scowled as he made to speak, before suddenly pausing. His eldritch orbs gazed penetratingly at Nenet as though properly seeing her for the first time. It made sense, considering their initial encounter had resulted in the vizier almost immediately siccing a horde of the undead upon them.
The elder mummy continued his intense perusal of the witch, who fought the instinct to shiver at the intensity of his eyes. A strange expression of recognition overtook his face, illuminating his eldritch orbs.
"Anak-sssu-namun?"
Nenet frowned as Bill blinked in confusion, once more annoyed that his Rosetta Stone wasn't working properly. Not for the first time since this morning, he wished he'd learned more Ancient Egyptian than the standard greetings. "What did he say?"
"I only understood 'Anck' and 'namun'," his partner whispered, her voice lightly strained as she fought to keep her eyes from gazing into those of the undead High Priest. "But I imagine it's a reference to Royal Consort Anck-su-namun of Pharaoh Merenre. She was his most favored, entrusted to him since her girlhood by her father, a royal scribe of Merenre's court. Anck-su-namun was trained by the priestess-witches of the Sacred Order of Amunet, goddess-consort of Amun-Ra. As Pharaoh embodied the creator god, it was only fitting that his chosen beloved would be the creator goddess."
Sekhem glid closer, causing their hackles to rise as they slowly backed into the wall with no clear path of escape. He even moved like a serpent, assessing and curious as he drew upon his targets.
And just as deadly.
"So why the hell would our would-be murderer here care about this Anck-su-namun at all?!" Bill ground out. "And why the hell does he think you're her?!" Oddly enough, he registered Nenet stiffen at the question.
"Star-crossed lovers, so the records claim."
'Oh.'
"And to your second question…it's entirely possible that I look similar or identical to her, some sort of bizarre and wholly unexpected physical reincarnation."
"Oh."
The undead vizier took a step closer. "Nebet-i-nakht… Inek imi-er-hut-netjer… Inek za-nakht netetjen."
"Ben pay-ay hau-tay nef-hut!" Nenet looked visibly furious, and though he couldn't understand a word of what either had said, Bill felt his hackles rise in matching offense as he glared at the Dark Mage-Commander who wore a disturbing expression of fond amusement.
To the Cursebreakers' shared bewilderment, Sekhem extended his right hand to Nenet. "Khard-isssh, míh pharosss… Anak-sssu Namun."
Though she didn't understand the hissed phrases, the witch still spat:
"Em-biat!"
The vizier laughed, a cold and sinister-sounding thing. "Nofer har-neb… uat-sssonet-nin-uesss-er-noufer…" He took another step closer, once more extending his hand to Nenet. "Keetah mi pharosss…ay nilio... isssirian…"
"Em-biat! Sebek han-ef!"
She reached for Bill's hand and tightened their grip. The action enraged Sekhem, who raised his mage-staff and made a series of incomprehensibly sharp swirls that transformed the gilded tile floor surrounding him into whirling pools of sand.
"SSSAH-ATAY VAPUKU RAHEK!"
To the Cursebreakers' horror, the sands began to coalesce and thrum as something started to emerge.
"Blimey…they're back!"
Twoscore of mummies reemerged as Bill and Nenet watched with wide disbelieving eyes, the same mummies that had originally been sicced on them in the northern chapel.
They were Sekhem's wab priests, underlings bound by blood and magic to do his bidding both in life and death. They were automatons of rotted flesh and bone encased in long-decayed scraps of cloth, and despite the seeming feebleness of their forms, possessed an unholy strength and resilience. Empty sockets that once held eyes focused on their targets as though the creatures could still see, the horrifying effect compounded by the strange rattling they emitted.
"IHIPYU-SsSsSETNAH!"
And with that hissed command, the mob swarmed to kill.
"PROTEGO DIABOLICA!"
Blue-black flames poured from sycamore and surrounded the duo at Bill's command, providing a momentary reprieve as the few creatures closest to them were rendered into screaming ash. It would be for naught as Sekhem hissed and waved his mage staff, the action once more raising the felled undead.
"You've got be fucking joking! MALEDIGNIS!"
Not satisfied with the army, the High Priest once more twirled his staff before pointing it sky high. Then, he hissed - the serpentine syllables audibly slashing through the air and causing every hair on the Cursebreakers' bodies to stand on end. The eyes of the staff glowed, and for a moment, it felt as though time itself had stopped on a precipice as they all froze.
…Until it rained serpents.
"BY HEKA ABOVE!" Nenet visibly paled.
Horrified by the sight of literally hundreds of venomous asps falling upon them like apocalyptic rain, Bill once more bellowed "PROTEGO DIABOLICA!", pouring his magic into the spell to combine his original. The circumference of the barrier spread as it rapidly coalesced into a protective dome around their persons.
Quite a few of the serpents and the mummy-army were rendered into screaming ash upon contact, but it wasn't nearly enough. Grunting with visible sweat dripping down his brow, Bill poured more of his magic into the modified shield as Nenet cast Flesh-Eating Fire Curses with nonverbal Peredos, Vipera Evenescas, and Confringos at the encroaching horde through a small opening in the shield, making a slight dent in their number. She would switch between them and Sekhem, pummeling him with envenomed arrows and Reductos.
To her mounting frustration he blocked and redirected most of her spells, puppeteering his priests and using that blasted mage staff to launch equally offensive magicks. They were at an impasse and despite their combined magical prowess, the Cursebreakers would succumb to exhaustion long before successfully defeating this legion.
In a pique of desperate frustration Nenet roared "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
A rush of silvery light poured from mopane… before resolving into a corporeal baboon that flew straight through a writhing ball of asps to land on the startled vizier. Sasha screamed and clawed at his face, deftly avoiding frantic swipes from his and staff whilst he screamed in pained anger. Smirking, Nenet poured more magic into her protector's efforts, enough for her to gouge out his right eyeball with a triumphant shriek.
The Parselmage let loose an excruciated howl, managing to grab the baboon and toss it into a wall and causing it to dissipate upon impact. With a roar he turned his full enraged attention towards Nenet, who instinctively gulped at the look of homicidal rage burning through his still functioning orb as he charged at her, the remaining asps parting like a sea.
He was less than five feet away from their dome-shield before the room suddenly rocked to the right, startling all its occupants as it tilted to a sixty-degree angle.
'Damned place trying to kill us again.' Colloshoos from Nenet prevented them from slipping, both watching with grim satisfaction as their attacking horde shrieked and slid, with the wab priests clawing for purchase.
Taking immediate advantage, Bill dispelled the protective dome of blue-black flames before launching a trio of Epoximise spells at their attackers, sticking them together like a large wad of gum. Black resin shot out from his wand to cover the screeching horde, before a cry of "INCENDIO HORRIBILIS!" set them ablaze.
Nenet hadn't been idle. She'd succeeded in creating some additional distance between them and the parselmouth with Pushback and Knockback Jinxes, taking advantage of the room's unnatural angle to try and box him in a corner. It was working as he struggled at staying upright to retaliate. Turning into his animagus form would have been futile, much to Nenet's relief.
For a moment, the two Cursebreakers had the advantage.
That instantly changed when the room reoriented itself, giving the Dark-mage a chance to retaliate
"SsSETA-"
"SILENCIO TOTALUM!"
Sekhem's mouth comically opened and closed, eldritch orbs wide at the sudden inability to vocalize his hissing as he turned to glare at a smirking Bill Weasley.
Their brief satisfaction was short-lived when the parselmouth suddenly launched his mage-staff directly at the redhead, the object unfurling midair into its full twenty foot-long horned serpent form.
In a blink Redmond appeared to dodge the unexpected attack, powerful claws taking a swipe at the snake and drawing some of its blood. The horned serpent cried out in pain before charging at the snarling wolverine that fearlessly stood its ground.
At the same time, Sekhem transformed into his king cobra form to leap at Nenet, hoping to catch her unawares to deliver a killing blow. He was incredibly fast in his transformation and subsequent attack, the entire event transpiring in less than a second.
To his anger, the witch evaded his dripping fangs at just the right moment, her form changing into a serval cat that deftly leapt over his own. Overcoming his surprise, he twisted to strike again, startling back at the vicious swipe of claws that drew blood from his torso. Unrelenting, Miwa jumped and succeeded in sinking her razor sharp teeth just beneath the cobra's hood, eliciting an ear-bleeding shriek as the serpent was viciously shaken to-and-fro before getting tossed aside.
It was good timing as the room tilted to the left, forcing its occupants to adjust to the new change.
Redmond succeeded in cornering the staff-snake, transforming back into Bill and immediately casting "VIPERA EVANESCA!" The spell rushed into the horned serpent and instead of disappearing, caused it to shrink ever so slightly! Though not the effect he wanted, he cast the spell twice more, followed by a non-verbal Saeptum and Stasis charms to keep it imprisoned.
He turned just in time to see a giant king cobra leaping at a serval cat, baby blue eyes widening in horror at the serpent being less than a hair's breadth away.
THUMP.
Through the reprieve of his dilated perception Bill cried "PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!", watching as the serpent froze and remained suspended midair. It was followed by a modified Silencio and Homorphus Reverso, leaving a fuming dark-mage who was unable to verbalize his curses.
"Restrain him!" cried a now-human Nenet as she raced towards the northernmost wall which was flanked by life size statues of Horus and Anubis. "And nothing rope-like!"
Casting another Petrificus and Silencio, Bill lapsed his dilation and looked around the spell-damaged wabet looking for anything he could use as a useful restraint that the Parselmouth couldn't find some way to transform into a serpent or something equally appalling. He spotted a small slightly out-of-the-way cubby housing three rows of mostly intact canopic jars.
'Please be empty-Please be empty-Please be empty-Please be empty!'
And with that desperate mental plea Weasley waved his wand over four figurines whilst incanting the Animation Charm, immediately followed by Engorgios. With a sharp slash, he set the group of four towards the still-frozen Parselmage.
The baboon-headed being jumped on the Dark vizier's chest as the jackal leapt onto his stomach, pressing him into the floor with unrelenting force. The mini-human leapt onto his legs, using his arms and legs to pin down the appendages. The transfigured falcon landed right on Shery's face and with spread wings, pushed down on his arms.
The mummy-vizier was well and properly trapped, but it would not last for long as he very slowly began unwinding the chords of Bill's magic as the redhead imbued more power into his spells.
"Hurry up Nenet!"
Reaching her destination, Nenet drew close to the Horus statue and took a second to offer a bow of respect. With her left hand, she used Diffindo to deftly cut a right-facing wedjat-eye into her right palm, Occlumency repressing her capacity to feel pain.
"PIERTOTUM LOCOMOTOR." The silvery spell rushed into the Horus statue, causing it to slowly shiver to life. Drawing close to the golden figure she pressed the bloody palm against its right eye.
"DAMJEUQULINA."
She touched her head to the statue, palm falling away as the necessary link established. It was strange seeing through its eyes, doubly so that its quasi-sentience was a result of her own magic. Everything stood in sharp and clear relief, fitting given the gaze of a falcon. With a deep breath Nenet sank deeper into a meditative state, ignoring the frantic warnings of her Inner Voice that practically shouted that the danger for this particular magic was too great.
In any other context, she would have agreed.
But a Parselmouth High Priest of Apep capable of necrokinesis, essokinesis, and regeneration - on top of being a deadly Animagus - hell-bent on her and partner's demise within a mercurial sentient necropolis hellbent on killing them all would have to be the exception.
'May Ra take pity on me.'
With a deep breath, Nenet softly incanted:
"Weret-hekau Nekheny
Inek sebkhet netjer Hor-wer,
Resut Hor-merti,
Resut Har-em-akhet,
Resut Ra-Horakhty!"
A strange chorus of whisperings began, as though someone or a group of someones was attempting to force their way into his mind, making his head spin as he felt like he was vibrating within his own skin. Bill grunted, psychic shields immediately clamping down on the sense of primordial panic that bloomed across his perception at the strange sensations. Chancing a glance at his partner, his eyes widened at seeing her pupils completely white as she braced her head against the golden-eyed Horus statue.
"Redji mih zenef ni khet,
Redji mih ka i sah,
Redji mi sekhem i heka!"
The golden glow of Horus' eyes intensified, with a distinct thrum running along his body as the nature of the primordial magicks Nenet invoked and used filled him with power. The golden spear he carried began vibrating, as though preparing itself for battle.
"Aapep in aa,
Heftay ni Ra,
Netjer ni isfet,
Aapep in aa!"
The whisperings were now shouts piercing through BIll's mind. He could feel the blood rushing and pounding through his skull as he fought with all his physical and mental might to not tear out his hair and crawl out of his flesh. Though he'd sunk to his knees he kept a shaking hand trained on the Parselmage who suddenly looked terrified, as though he could sense the impending storm of his demise as he actively struggled against the figurines pinning him down.
Nenet was on the verge of a seizure as blood trickled from her nose, eyes, and mouth, but she couldn't afford to stop even as her Inner Voice screamed at her to do so:
"Aha er medjedu en ib en amun-ra,
Tjezi ti dja nub,
Khedeb sut en-weser-ra,
Seq sut en-weser-ra!
SEQ SUT EN-WESER-RA!
SEQ SUT EN-WESER-RA!"
And that last declaration the witch dropped like a puppet with its strings cut.
The fully embodied Horus tightened his grip on his golden spear, and with purposeful steps, marched straight towards the now-flailing Dark vizier. By some sheer force of unholy will, the Parselmouth broke through Bill's incarcerating magicks and flung off the figurines, jumping to the offensive
"SsSASs-"
Not this time.
Horus lunged and plunged the golden spear straight through the Parselmage's heart, pumping into him all the power of Ra's unrelenting desire to purge the world of Apep's very existence, to banish the embodiment of pure chaos and darkness
Tjaty Sekhem screamed, and with the horrifying sound came an ear-splitting and dichotic crescendo of wailing voices clashing against a BUZZZZZZZ of stifling white noise. The two unearthly sounds fought against each other as though caught in a great battle, neither giving the other purchase for a full heartbeat as Bill struggled not to choke himself to death…
…Until the voices swelled in an ear-shattering climax marked by Horus' golden spear becoming alight with golden flame that burned through what remained of the Parselmage's khet, ba, shut, and ka from the current plane of Existence. With that came the absorption of his sekhem and in this case, the erasure of his ren as it was symbolically identical to his True Name. As he burned to complete ash, the once-great Vizier's sah was banished to the Unending Void of the Wild Unknown, beyond the reach of all.
Suddenly, the embodied statue turned towards a horrified and gawping Bill. Despite his base instinct to cower and disappear, the redhead reached deep into his reserves of Gryffindor bravery and held the gaze of the One Nekheny. Baby blue stared into pure gold as The Great Falcon evaluated the wielder-of-hekau that remained bent but refused to break.
Heru-ur looked…
Stared beyond his khet, akh, and shut..
Past his ba…
Beyond his sekhem…
To gaze at his sah…
To see into his ib…
To see…TO SEE… TO SEE… TOOOOO SEEEEEE…
The moment stretched taut as the swelling crest of voices pounded against Weasley's head with a power that was Terrifying-and-Unworldly-and-All-Consuming…
Pushed past his shields and sought to supplant his mind, his thoughts, his will…
To wipe Bill Weasley from this plane of Existence and force him into Another…
…Until the moment snapped and the statue and his flaming spear faded into quiescence as whatever essence of Horus Nenet succeeded in invoking returned back to the Ascended Realm of the Divine Wild.
Bill choked out a deep and gurgling breath, vaguely registering that his nose, eyes, and mouth were bleeding, vision swimming red as he smelt and tasted the sharp tang of copper. His concern over his own state lasted for a few beats before his eyes connected with his partner who looked dead.
"NENET!"
Eleven Minutes Later…
With a sharp inhale Nenet came too, eyes slowly focusing as Bill's pale and worried visage swam into view.
"Thank Merlin!" His relief was tangible as he resumed casting Biognosis to ensure that everything was working as needed. "You alright?"
It took a few tense moments, but she nodded in agreement.
"How…how long was I out for?"
He frowned. "Not long. Took a lot of rejuvenation potions to get you back up!" The feigned playfulness of his tone was obvious, but it was better than telling her he'd used the Life Support Charm on her for a few seconds as her heart had momentarily stopped beating.
'Thank Merlin I took some healing potions before I did that.'
He was still in horrified awe of what she'd done and how it'd led to what he'd experienced, mind and memories in mild disbelief.
"Are you going to tell me how the hell you pulled that off?"
She chuckled weakly. "A little something I picked up during my DADA Mastery. To be used for the strictest of emergencies." Her Inner Voice scoffed that High Mistress Dihiya Zidane would have hexed her well into the next century for the insane stunt she'd just pulled!
Bill wanted to ask more but judging the increasingly wary look on her face, he refrained and just nodded.
"Thank you." She gripped his hand gratefully, basking in the warmth of his earnest baby blue eyes. He smiled sweetly before slipping his hand into hers and tightening their grip.
"Well, he's well and gone, and I don't think he'll be coming back this time." Nenet snorted out a laugh, hopeful that they wouldn't be proven wrong. She examined their chaotic and debris-laden surroundings some more before a proverbial lightbulb dinged over her head.
"I wonder…" Gently removing her hand from Bill's, she reached into her fanny pack and retrieved her pictograph map which hadn't worked earlier. Waving her wand over the parchment she whispered a few key spells, eyes widening with satisfaction at each one. Finally, she smiled as she turned to Bill:
"I know exactly where to go," she said confidently, slipping her hand into his. "Follow me."
One Hour Later…
As one, the Cursebreaker pair huddled over Package Alpha, amazed to have found it at all.
"I cannot believe it was here this whole time!"
Nenet chuckled at Bill's incredulous tone. "It's fitting that it would be in the burial chamber. It is technically treasure, its material notwithstanding."
She was right of course. The pair of gilded papyrus sheets glowed under the dim ensorcelled light that came from everywhere and nowhere. According to the witch, the one on the right was from a passage of the Golden Book of Amun-Ra, its various hieroglyphic symbols almost hypnotizing. It was nestled in a gold puzzlebox encrusted with jade and emerald lockbox bearing an ibis. Opening the box had required solving three Arithmancy-based riddles that Nenet made quick work of.
"What does it say?"
His partner hummed noncommittally as she scanned the document. "It speaks of the night and day. Specifically, something called the 'Great Devourer Forged from the Primordial Penumbra' being overcome by surrendering to the 'Primeval Light-Giver of the Eternal Flame'… It's rather poetic, more than I would expect given the nature of this information." She frowned as her deep brown eyes continued their perusal.
"Can you make sense of the other?"
Blinking to attention, the witch squinted at the document with the seemingly unintelligible words. Focusing too long made her head feel funny, and upon further inspection, the hieroglyphs seemed to be moving as though slithering-
A gasp of recognition escaped her as her expression paled.
"What is it?" Bill's tone was sharp.
"I… I recognize what this is. It's written Parseltongue; or rather, written Apophic Parseltongue."
Her partner's eyes widened before immediately turning weary, grip reflexively tightening on his wand as his eyes roamed the room in a slight panic.
"I am not capable of reading it," she continued. "And even if I were, I would never be foolish enough to read it out loud. Heka only knows what could arise if I do." She shuddered in recollection of all they'd gone through. "To be quite frank, I don't even know if it can be read; the only one who would be able to would be a High Priest of Apep, and considering the only one we know is dead after spending the entire day trying to kill us…" She balked.
A strange thought came to Bill. "Are…are there any others like Sekhem? But you know…alive?"
"...Yes, though they live in secret and have their identities obscured from all records. They are rumored to be conscripted members of Magical Egypt's version of the Unspeakables. For the best, right?"
"Indeed," chuckled Bill.
With a sharp wave of his wand he conjured a protective shroud to cover both texts, before placing them back into the puzzle box. Reaching into his magically-reinforced fanny-pack, he whispered a key phrase that sent a small, palm-sized container sailing into his hand. The slightest prick of Diffindo against his thumb created a pebble of blood used to trace a series of runes that caused it to expand and unlock. WIth a sharp flick the puzzle box was levitated inside, before another set of blood-locking runes returned it to its original form and placed back inside his bag.
"As efficient as ever, Mr. Weasley."
He snorted out an amused laugh. "I do aim to please Madame," causing her to giggle. He linked their hands together on instinct. "Now, let's get the hell out of here!"
6:14PM
After a thorough checking over by Gringotts Cairo's best healing team, Bill and Nenet proceeded to the office of Krunch, one of the scarier-looking goblins within Gringotts who split his time between their England and Egypt branches.
In addition to the fierce and scarred visage standard to the beings, Krunch was blind in one eye, only opting to wear his eye-patch when meeting with clients. Any other occasion, he preferred to let the orb breathe without a seeming care in the world, least of all for the opinions of those who found it offensive.
Especially any of the bank's employees who were already busy internally balking at the sight of his blood-splattered ill-fitting suit.
"Well, I haven't got all bloody night!"
Bill lightly jumped before reaching into his fanny-pack to retrieve the lockbox, nullifying all the security magicks to hand Package Alpha over to the scowling goblin.
With a grunt Krunch retrieved a pair of goblin steel glasses, his eyes roving over the parchments with his usual intensity. He grumbled to himself as he reviewed the documents, and after a few minutes, nodded in satisfaction.
"Your acquisition bonuses will aptly reflect your success in acquiring this package, in addition to the relevant hazard pay bonus." He took off his glasses to glare at them. "Now get out!"
Lightly jumping, the pair nonetheless bowed as was appropriate and quickly left, making their way to the bank's lobby.
"So, can I interest you in a nice supper?"
Nenet's expression dimmed. "I'm having supper with Haaibre and his family tonight I'm afraid. Perhaps this weekend?"
Bill expertly swallowed his disappointment. "I'm afraid not; I'm taking some personal holiday time to kip over to England for our annual visit to my mémé."
"Aaah, la rose doré?"
Bill laughed. "The very one." They laughed in unison, basking in the glow of the moment.
Of course, a teasing voice chose to interrupt:
"Nennie! How wonderful to see you here!"
The witch frowned at the use of her most-hated nickname, before turning to address the speaker who confidently strode in their direction: "Halyat!" She pasted a passably polite smile on her face. "Ahlan, cousin."
"Ahlan-beek," the witch replied, teak-brown eyes penetrating despite the imperious smirk on her face. Halyat Baig (née Mustafa) was a modelesque beauty, some inches taller Nenet's lithe form. Near-waist length dark locks fell sleek and glossy, with fashionable bangs framing her face. She was draped in the finest blend of Acromantula silk and Egyptian cotton robes from her personal dressmaker. A wesekh forged of gold adorned with emerald, jade, carnelian, and turquoise scarabs dominated her neck, complemented by glimmering drops of garnets on her ears, wrists, and fingers.
"You recall my partner, Bill Weasley?"
Remembering Cedrella Black-Weasley's lessons Bill bowed as was appropriate to a noblewoman, who tittered and lightly curtseyed in response whilst flirtatiously extending her right hand. He brushed the slightest kiss over her knuckles, eliciting a girlish titter and a coquettish sweep of her hands under his chin as Bill fought the urge to roll his eyes.
His partner lightly frowned.
"Of course Cousin…how can you forget a face like that?" Nenet's jaw ground at the suggestiveness of the older witch's tone, though she didn't rise to the bait.
Halyat had always been fond of provocation despite the 20-year age gap between the two, her maternal cousin's reputation well-known by almost every member of the Kolumbiko family, especially Cousin Libra.
"So, how are the children?" Halyat smirked before launching into her favorite topic aside from herself - her daughter and son. Jumana Baig was currently working on her second Law Mastery, hoping to garner a position within the International Relations office of the Egyptian Ministry. Her son Ramy was wrapping up his final year at Almadrasa, deciding on whether to pursue an Auror Track or travel out of the country to pursue a few Masteries.
"You will experience these joys when it's your turn to have children, Nennie." The snideness was more pronounced. "Especially since you'll be birthing the next Magdy heir. How exciting!" Her exuberant tone did little to hide the insincerity of her expression as she giggled at the sudden stoniness of her cousin's face. Halyat spent a few more minutes bragging about her children, the successes of her career, and other such self-important things before flouncing off citing "important dinner plans", though not before teasingly kissing Bill on each cheek.
"...I see why she's your favorite cousin." Nenet looked briefly outraged before bursting into laughter, pleased to hear the warm tenor of her partner's voice. They basked in the moment before Nenet settled her expression and hugged him goodbye.
Swallowing his disappointment, Bill comforted himself with the thought that they would be going on another whirlwind expedition in another week that would be just them two.
'Here's hoping the Oasis of Ahm-Shere is as paradisiacal as they say.'
Somehow, he seriously doubted it.
Later That Night…
A quiet clearing of the throat filled the spacious Gringotts office, indicative of its maker's impatience.
Lightly blushing Eye-Gouger - real name Mr. Bumbershoot, Director of Human-Inhuman Resources - backed away to give his colleague some breathing room.
Amused, Krunch - real name Mr. Paradiddle, Vice-President for Matters Pertaining to the Spirit - returned to his task, fiddling with his pure gold transliteration goggles as he perused the papyri that constituted the Alpha Package. Despite his blindness his eyes roved the sheets with near-casual ease, lightly mumbling to himself.
After a few minutes, he set the glasses aside as he adjusted the cravat of his impeccably tailored linen summer suit.
"Well, I've got good news and bad news."
The conference room's occupants perked up with varying degrees.
"The passage from the Golden Book of Amun-Ra is easily translatable, I will have it completed by tomorrow morning. It's standard Kemetic, a bit more grandiloquent than the Funerary Texts, but not so much so as to interfere with its understanding."
"And the bad news?" asked King Ragnok - real name was Mr. Periwinkle, Chairman and CEO of Gringotts Interdimensional.
"I cannot read the other text."
"...Do you mean within the set time frame?" asked Mr. Butterdish with the softest note of worry, Vice-President for Security and Conflict Resolution.
"No. I mean, I cannot read the other text, ever." Eyes widened in collective shock. "I can glean that it is written in a language adjacent to modern Parseltongue given its linguistic and arithmantical base. However, the complexity of its form reveals that it is much older than the modern tongue of the serpent, and while I can attempt a reverse-transliteration, there is a serious potential for major errors that I would prefer to avoid."
"Not even with the Slytherin Lexicon?" Periwinkle asked concernedly.
"Unfortunately, no. The Lexicon is based in modern-Parseltongue, and even with the additional references provided by Achlys Gaunt's Compendium Serpentis, it won't be enough considering the… unidentified inhuman linguistic reference in this document."
"Is there anyone who can read this? I'd rather not engage the Alexandria Archive but if we must-"
"I think I can be able to help with this." All eyes turned to Mr. Camembert, who looked almost smug as he puffed on his favorite infused Chimera-Canyon Cigar.
"Oh?" Doolally replied, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.
"Yes. I have an upcoming meeting scheduled with him, and he is a most impressive Parselmouth, being descended from Achlys and all that."
"Indeed," stated Periwinkle, bright hazel eyes twinkling behind his moonsilver-frame glasses. "He is our 'Most-Valued Earth Realm Investor' for a reason!"
The tension noticeably drained from the room as a chorus of chuckles erupted, before the group moved on to the next topic on their nightly agenda.
AN 1: I've always wanted to do a Bill Weasley-centric mini story heavily inspired by The Mummy (1999), especially given his choice in career as a Cursebreaker. His form of a wolverine is a nod to his canon lycanthropy and homage to the weasel-symbology of House Weasley. Redmond is homage to Redmond Weasley in AD, founder of House Weasley.
AN 2: It took considerable effort with translating quite a bit of the Ancient Egyptian vocabulary in this story, and I decided to go that direction to amp the uncanniness and overall danger of what Bill and Nenet faced. Granted, I am no Ancient Egyptian linguist in any form of the word so it's entirely possible that what I wrote is gibberish, which, if it is, apologies! :)
AN 3: The role of Nenet is played by Sophia Boutella in her role as Princess Ahmanet in The Mummy (2017), pre-Set's influence. The ritual she uses is a reference to the Taking a Knife to Smite Apep ritual in The Books of Overthrowing Apep, which invokes Horus wielding an iron spear to smite the Serpent of Chaos. Her animagus Miwa is a reference to Miw-aa, the golden-cat form of Ra when he takes a knife to smite Apep (his primordial enemy).
AN 4: Cassius' goal is quite lofty very much fueled by revenge. Will he even be able to tackle a 1/4 of it in the face of the Selwyn enemy? We'll see! ;) The role of Cassius is played by Fionn Whitehead in his role as Pip in Great Expectations (2023).
AN 5: The role of Halyat Baig is played by Patricia Velazquez in her role as Anck-su-namun/Meela Nais.