Harry had woken at some point but just couldn't find a reason to get up just yet. The first thing she had done once she woke up was reach for her glasses. It took a moment for her sleep-addled mind to catch up but once she realized she could see her glasses sitting on the floor next to the bed perfectly. That brought back the memories of Imhotep healing her sight and with it, even more questions she didn't have answers to. Thinking back on her time here, she realized that she couldn't remember ever putting them on and wearing them. Not like the clear memories from Hogwarts anyway.
Instead of trying to face the day and everything that came with it, she wrapped the expensive blankets into a cocoon around her so she could hide from everything for just a little bit longer. This all was past being too much. What was happening to her here? Was Imhotep clouding her mind? Luring her into a trap she had no hope to escape? If that was the case, why didn't it seem like a trap? Why did he let her come and go as she pleased? Was it Heka that was leading her into a trap? But again, it didn't feel like any trap she'd triggered before. They were telling her nothing but good things, amazing things, but there was always a catch.
Some days Harry felt like a kitten in a small cage. Just hoping to get out someday and be free again. Other days, she felt like a tiger prowling the forest full of rabbits for its next meal.
After everything that she has witnessed here, she should want to go home! Home was out there, waiting for her. Why did she not feel any compulsion to leave this sandy place and go back to England? Sirius had left her a house that she could move right into and make her own. Hermione and Ron were waiting for her to come back healthy and whole which she was now. Even others like Neville and Luna would be happy to host her at their homes. Molly would have her over for every meal every day, if Harry let her. There were stores that held all the products she recognized. The future was bright and just waiting for her.
But as Harry thought of home, she knew that none of that was really true anymore.
Yes, she had a house that Sirius left her when he died. It was dark and dreary and constantly reminded her of the parental figure that she could have had. There were reminders of the Pureblood Ideologies everywhere, a stain that could never be fully washed away. She had friends waiting for her and would love to have her back again, but they were all left scarred, both mentally and physically, by the war they were all victims to. There was no way they could fully forget what they all went through during that time. Those memories might fade given time but they were never going to be fully forgotten. Even the Weasley Burrow had painful memories waiting for her since Fred's death. She knew George would never be the same after that. It may have been kinder if he died as well rather than be reminded of losing the other half his soul every time he looked in the mirror. Many of her favorite stores might not ever reopen since their owners were either driven away or killed by Lord Voldemort and his supporters. What was waiting for her other than painful memory after painful memory? Each memorial to those lost, a silent reminder of everything she once had and would never have again. Why would she want to go back after all that?
At least here…
Harry physically choked on that thought but she needed to see it through. Closure. She had so little closure from the war and all the atrocities she bore witness to. Of a childhood that prepared her for the war yet to come a little too well. Didn't she deserve a rest now?! No one here knew of what she had been through. No one here looked to her to be their savior when she was still a child. Here, she was shiny and whole.
Harry could be anyone or no one. A brand new beginning.
Slowly, Harry looked her head out from her blanket cocoon to the soft light of sunrise. Maybe she didn't need to run home quite so soon. She still needed to unravel the mystery surrounding Imhotep and Heka, afterall. After that, who knows? Would she stay? Would she travel? Maybe, for the first time in her life, she would decide when she got there.
Feeling invigorated, Harry got out of bed and quickly got dressed in the first outfit she saw. A bright white piece with a black design that looked like vines climbing up the shirt and pants. She ran into Zalika and Clione on the way out of her room.
"Are we continuing to work on your potion project again?" Zalika asked excitedly.
"Well, the cauldrons have been replaced, so now we'll be moving onto the next step." Harry explained to them as they passed through the magical door.
"You had the cauldrons replaced?" Clione asked quietly.
"I didn't. Imhotep did." Harry stated and both girls made an 'oh' sound. "Next we need to figure out how many storage containers we'll need to get as well as putting in more shelves for them and maybe some more hanging racks."
"How will we know how many containers we'll need?" Zalika asked.
"We look at the potions we'll be brewing and the number of ingredients that they use. Then we make a list of those ingredients. That will tell us how many containers we'll need." Harry explained kindly.
The girls were still quite excited to help Harry with her little distraction and that made her happy. She didn't even like Potions when she was forced to learn it from a man who hated her and her father as much as he loved her mother. She actually enjoyed the subject once she had Slughorn for a teacher and found the subject quite easy with Snape's old potion book.
The girls rushed into the kitchen once they reached it. They were quite excited to see the new cauldrons and help with the next step. Harry wondered why they were so happy to help her. Maybe she'd ask them when they took a break or sometime tonight once they were done for the day. Harry moved over to the large cauldron to look at the shelves they had and how many more they might need. After only a moment, she decided that she should start by making a list for the ingredients they would need immediately and about how many bottles for the finished product they would need first. But as soon as that thought solidified, another did as well. The few books she had as well as any writing supplies were in the office Imhotep made her which she was still not sure where it was actually located in relation to the kitchen.
Harry was just trying to think about how she could ask Lock-Nah to take her to the office without making a fool of herself when something moved out of the corner of her eye. She turned and saw the three potion books that she remembered seeing in the office as well as a couple of the potion books she had at Hogwarts sitting on top of some of the parchment. Looking closer, the quill and pot of ink that she used for her letter to Hermione were also there. Harry looked around, wondering if this was some kind of joke or prank but there was no one there. The girls were still in the storage room talking about the cauldrons and no one new had come in. Now that Harry thought about it, this same thing happened with the torches and small Oasis she made the day before. She thought something and it 'magicked' into existence right after. She made a mental note to speak to Imhotep… or Heka, about this next time she had a chance.
Upon opening the copy of Advanced Potion Making, she found that it had all the notes left by Snape, meaning that this was her actual book from school. Instinctively, she wanted to think this was Imhotep's doing but she knew that wasn't fair. She just couldn't attribute every bit of strangeness that happened to him. Another mystery for another day. Harry quickly began jotting down the various ingredients that she would need to get started making the more basic healing potions with rough amounts and notes for the number of potion bottles she thought she might need.
Harry was pleased looking over her list and notes. She'd have to speak to Imhotep at some point on how he would prefer his cult members to hand these potions out. Thinking about it, she'll probably end up insisting on being present while they are handed out, just in case the new priest is anything like Mr. Hafez. She should get to know the new priest and figure out if he's any better than Mr. Hafez, but that should probably be another thing to run by Imhotep. This was his cult so it should be his decision.
"My Lady?" Clione's gentle voice got Harry's attention. "We've got all the storage containers together, but there might be a problem." She explained hesitantly.
"What kind of problem?" Harry asked as she approached the storage room.
Zalika motioned to one of the shelves that had a large variety of different pots. They ranged in size from one that could be used to hold salt or pepper for the table to a large one that Harry guessed could hold a bunch of apples. They were all made of either clay or terracotta, some of which were already showing signs of cracks.
"Will these work?" Zalika asked tentatively.
"No, they won't." Harry sighed unhappily. Each ingredient needs its own jar and it was looking like she would need to buy all new containers. "Looks like we'll need to budget a container for each ingredient we buy." Harry had absolutely no idea how much this was going to cost, though she hoped not too much. Perhaps Lock-Nah would be willing to continue helping her with all this. He had a better idea on how things in this place were done.
"What kind of containers are you looking for?" Clione asked while she inspected one of the smaller clay pots.
"I'm used to glass jars with lids." Harry picked up the lid of one of the containers and it broke apart as soon as it detached from the base. She set the lid back down on the base and it immediately fell into the container. "Easier to keep clean, prevents contamination, and you can reuse them for other purposes." Harry explained while tapping her chin.
Looking inside the storage room, Harry noticed that there were not many shelves and they were quite short and may not work for whatever containers they end up getting. Snape's containers ranged in size but many were tall and thin which would not work here. She also had to decide how she was going to store the cauldrons not in use. They might need to also look into getting a carpenter or mason to reinforce the shelves since they looked more on the rickety side of things.
"I saw glass containers at the one shop we went to with Lock-Nah." Zalika spoke up excitedly. "Perhaps the shopkeeper could tell you where he got his?" She suggested pleasantly.
"You know what?" Harry turned to the young girl. "That's not a bad idea." Zalika's face lit up like it was Christmas morning. "I'll run that idea by Lock-Nah, just in case he has a better idea, but I think that's a good place to start."
"I heard my name." Lock-Nah's voice came from the open door of the storage room the three girls were still standing in.
"Do all the men here have the ability to appear silently?" Harry replied to the large man sarcastically. Something told her she was one of a very small number of people that were allowed to be so sarcastic with him while keeping all her limbs.
"Only when it's most convenient." Lock-Nah replied with a smirk, making Harry laugh. The girls also giggled along with her.
"But to answer your statement, you did hear your name." Harry replied to his statement once her giggles calmed down. "We were talking about needing to also get storage containers for any potion ingredients we end up buying. The ones we have here are not going to work." Harry motioned to the pots on the shelf.
Lock-Nah stepped further into the room to get a better look at what Harry was motioning to. Clione, who was between them, quickly scampered to the other side of Harry. "I see what you are talking about. These are ill-suited for what you will need." He stated like he already knew what she was talking about and she desperately hoped he really did.
"I was hoping for glass jars with lids. Clione mentioned that perhaps we could work with one of the Apothecary shopkeepers who could help us get some." Harry motioned to Clione, who responded by trying to hide behind Harry. How peculiar.
Lock-Nah hummed to himself for a moment before answering. "Amom at Tefnut's Kitchen is the only one that stores his ingredients in glass jars. I have spoken to him regarding setting up shipments for you but I have not done so yet. I did not want to presume that I knew all that you would need." He bowed to her slightly.
That statement gave Harry pause. Lock-Nah was continuing to help her with this project on his own yet was not making any of the decisions for it without her. What a strange feeling of authority. A growing part of her actually kind of liked it, but she kept that part reigned in. With authority came responsibility and she wasn't ready to take on new responsibility when she had only just completed her past responsibility that was thrust upon her.
"Will he be able to get us containers as well as the ingredients?" Harry asked.
"Last I spoke to Amom, he was very interested in becoming our sole supplier for apothecary supplies. That would include the ingredients and any other related supplies and services you may require. I can escort you to his shop so you can set up the details with him when you wish." Lock-Nah explained.
Lock-Nah's words sounded really good and this Amom guy would make her job here a hell of a lot easier. "That sounds like it could be expensive." Harry sighed.
"Not as expensive as you're fearing." Lock-Nah's deep voice calmed her worries a little bit. "You would be paying for the supplies at a nominal markup to cover the extra services. We have members that will be going over his billing statements very closely to make sure he does not attempt to cheat us." There was a slight edge to his words that made Harry hope that Amom would not try to take advantage of them for a few extra galleons.
"Are you available now? We've kind of hit a wall here." Harry asked motioning to the sad-looking containers.
"You are in luck for I am available to escort you to Amom's shop." Lock-Nah replied pleasantly.
"Perfect!" Harry exclaimed before turning to the two girls. "If you two wouldn't mind, can you start cleaning the kitchen?" Harry was not going to order these girls to do anything that they didn't want to do.
"We can clean." Zalika stated happily.
"Where would you like us to concentrate?" Clione asked timidly.
"General cleaning for now. Floors, surfaces, walls. That sort of thing. If anything requires a more thorough clean or if you have trouble with it, set it aside for now." Harry hoped that they weren't sick of cleaning after spending a couple days trying to clean the cauldrons.
"Of course we can work on that." Clione replied with a bit more vigor.
"That kind of cleaning is easy compared to the pots." Zalika added with a smile.
"Wonderful! You can fill me in on your progress once we get back."
The two girls nodded excitedly and quickly started formulating a plan. Harry turned to face Lock-Nah, who took the cue to start escorting her to talk to the shopkeeper as promised. She made sure to grab the paper with her notes before they left the kitchen. A stray thought came to Harry as they walked through what Harry still considered to be the main room of the large building. The same room where she watched Imhotep murder six of his own cult members. Imhotep's throne was empty.
"Where does Imhotep go? I almost never see him without him having a reason first." Harry asked as they exited the building.
"I do not know." Lock-Nah answered evenly. "It is not my place to question the Dread Lord."
Harry didn't like that statement, but chose not to say anything about it. Lock-Nah was a member of a legit cult that followed, or possibly worshiped, Imhotep. She still wasn't sure what Imhotep's whole history was, but it sounded bad from what she had been told from Heka. Also super unbelievable. Something to keep in mind if her standing with Imhotep or his cult ever changed.
Harry decided to change the subject. "Me and the girls were discussing storage and I was wondering about how hard it would be to get someone in to see about reinforcing the shelves and maybe putting some more in?" She handed her notes over to Lock-Nah so he could see what she was considering.
Lock-Nah looked over the paper. "That would not be difficult. Once we know what kind of supplies they will need to hold up, we can…"
"Harriet Iris Potter!" A woman's voice with a strange accent coming from Harry's left cut Lock-Nah's statement off. Harry looked to the voice and found a dark skinned woman with her hair done in neat rows and wearing a well fitting light brown suit. "A pleasure to finally meet the woman who defeated Lord Voldemort." The woman bowed her head slightly to Harry. "You are under arrest. Please do not resist." She stated firmly.
Harry watched as several more foreigners stepped out of doorways and walkways around her and Lock-Nah. Looked to be about eight men and women dressed from various countries and they were all armed with wands. Lock-Nah looked to be ready for a fight, but Harry knew that as one wandless witch and a squib, they were outmatched, hilariously outmatched.
"May I ask for what and by who's authority?" Harry replied pleasantly. No use trying to start a fight just yet.
"Of course." The woman responded in kind. She pulled out a piece of paper out of her suit jacket and handed it to Harry. "The Head Auror of the Statute of Secrecy Task Force has issued a warrant for your arrest for the crime of breaking the Statute of Secrecy."
Harry looked at the warrant for her arrest. She didn't recognise the name of the Auror that signed it. "Statute of Secrecy Task Force? I've never heard of that group."
"It's a new department in the International Confederation of Wizards." The woman replied. Harry remembered Lock-Nah and Ardeth Bay's last conversation. Ardeth said he was sending his letter to the ICW and the notice in her hands meant they already got it and were acting on the information there. That wasn't that long ago. And to already have a warrant for her arrest? Something wasn't adding up. "The Statute of Secrecy Task Force was created following the chaos the Second Wizard in Great Britain had on the European continent. Any further questions can wait until we are at the ICW Headquarters."
"You can try." Lock-Nah growled his threat at the nameless well dressed woman. She barely reacted, only pulling out her wand from her jacket without changing her expression.
Harry placed a gentle hand on Lock-Nah's arm, which relaxed him only slightly. "And where can my legal council find me?" Harry asked the woman, who turned her cold eyes back to her.
"We will be taking you to the ICW headquarters in Paris, France." The woman put her wand away only to pull out handcuffs. Harry could guess they were magic suppressing handcuffs.
"I cannot let you take her." Lock-Nah snarled. Harry was sure he would fight as hard as he could, but she also knew that these Aurors would not fight him fairly.
"Lock-Nah, don't." He stopped with Harry's words and she was grateful. "This is a fight we cannot win. Go back to the others."
Lock-Nah turned his head to her. "I cannot let them take you!"
Harry could hear the subtle fear in his voice. Harry knew he was afraid of what Imhotep might do to him if he returned to the cult with the information that she had been taken away. She was still at a loss as to the why of Imhotep, but Harry hoped that Imhotep would at least take the news of her being taken better than Lord Voldemort ever took bad news.
"Tell Imhotep everything you saw and heard. Tell him where these people took me."
"The Dread Lord will skin me alive if I return without you!" Lock-Nah spoke with a tremble in his voice. It made Harry wonder what Imhotep did when she was not around.
"Then tell him I commanded you." Harry stated firmly. Lock-Nah reluctantly nodded to Harry and she desperately hoped he understood the situation they were in. Harry turned back to the woman in front of her, who seemed to be waiting patiently for them to finish. "Will you let him go?" She asked.
The woman shrugged inelegantly. "We don't want him." She then waved at Lock-Nah dismissively.
Harry could see that Lock-Nah wanted to sneer, but was smart enough to take the opening that was afforded to him. With a last worried glance to Harry, he took off briskly back to the cult building.
The woman quickly grabbed her hands and put the handcuffs on Harry's wrist. The cuffs were definitely magic suppressing. She could feel her magic being pushed away but it was holding onto her for dear life. The battle very nearly hurt. The woman grabbed her, not unkindly and started to lead her down a walkway she hadn't taken yet. Two of the Aurors joined them while the others walked back into the buildings they came out of. Harry could guess they were using the cover to discreetly teleport to wherever they came from.
She was led to a medium sized building and pushed into it with little care. There were two more people, a man and a woman, waiting for them inside with what looked like a pile of rope. The two new people took the rope and wrapped it around her wrists snugly. Each person put their hands on the rope before one spoke a phrase that Harry belatedly thought that she should pay attention to before the Portkey activated and they were whisked away.
The spell finished and Harry was grateful. Portkeys were easier to stomach than apparition, but it still made her ill. She much preferred how Imhotep used his magic to teleport. Remembering what she told Lock-Nah…knowing what she saw from before…Imhotep was probably going to be very angry that she was taken. Maybe even murderously angry. Harry just wasn't sure how she felt about that just yet.
"Please take Harriet Iris Potter to Interrogation Room #4." The first first woman said as she handed the arrest warrant to the woman. Harry wasn't even trying to keep up, because she knew these people didn't matter. They were just delivering her to the ones that did.
"Of course, Madam Visser." The man replied kindly. His voice had the dual tone quality that Harry had come to understand meant that he was speaking another language but her magic was doing…something…and allowing her to understand it. She hadn't felt the need to test that bit of information before and now she wasn't sure if she'd get the chance. No, Imhotep wouldn't leave her here to rot for an unspecified time like so many people before him…right?
The man removed the rope from Harry's and passed it off to yet another person. The man and woman then each grabbed one of her arms and marched her down a rather unremarkable hallway with few other people around. Harry still felt numb and detached from everything that was happening to her. No use getting herself worked up at this point. Things might actually turn out alright, afterall.
They came upon a rather unremarkable door that blended into the neutral colored walls. There were words above the door that read, 'Interrogation Room #4' written is a bland script. She was marched roughly into the room and sat down into the hard metal chair. The man and woman then left her in the quiet room, all alone.
That left Harry alone with her thoughts in this cold, neutral colored room. This was all such a surreal experience for her. She'd been brought before Wizengamot for underage magic use but it had been clear from the start that she was being railroaded by Fudge. She also had Arthur Weasley and Dumbledore there with her. Not to mention that experience only happened once. Her and her fellow students had broken into the Ministry but the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore had been there to save them in the end when the Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort showed up. Thinking back on it, Dumbledore was always working in the background whenever her and her friends broke laws. How was Harry going to get out of this jam without Dumbledore's considerable political weight working behind the scenes for her benefit? Harry didn't know. She could only hope that her extraordinary luck continued to hold up.
The door opened loudly within the quiet room and a tall black man wearing colorful clothes that reminded her of Shacklebolt walked into the room. He had a thin folder in his hand that he placed on the table between them. That little tidbit could either be very good or very bad.
"Hello Miss Potter. I am Abeba, a Senior Auror within the Statute of Secrecy Task Force." Abeba stated distractedly as he looked through the small file. He had a thick accent that she couldn't place. "There's not much to cover here, so I'll keep this brief."
"That's fine by me." Harry replied pleasantly. The war taught Harry many lessons. Not needing to start an outmatched fight unless strictly necessary or advantageous was one of the bigger ones.
Abeba opened the small file and lifted up the top piece of paper to read the one beneath it. The script was small enough that Harry couldn't read it from this angle or distance. "Looking here, it appears that the crime of breaking the Statute of Secrecy is the lesser charge against you." He might as well been talking to a houseplant for all the inflection he didn't have.
"That charge was the reason for my arrest." Harry added, hopeful that this would all be something minor that would pass with minimal issues.
"However," Abeba continued on as if she hadn't spoken. "Your other charges are far more severe and, therefore, more pressing." He stated very plainly.
"My other charges?" Harry was thoroughly confused about what her other charges could be. She hadn't done that much since being brought to Egypt. She supposed that something could have followed her out of the War, but what could it have been? So much had happened. "What other charges?"
"I am seeing six counts of murder that you committed within the borders of Egypt." He explained.
Harry's mind actually ground to a stop. Six murders? She had done no such thing! She had technically broken the Statue of Secrecy and probably committed some other minor crimes without thinking, but she had not done anything even remotely close to that! "I have done no such thing!" She tried desperately to keep her voice steady, but she didn't quite succeed.
"We have several sworn statements from authorized agents of the ICW that state the opposite." Abeba returned the paper to the small file and closed it. He turned an uncaring eye to her. "There's really nothing more to be said."
"I deserve a trial!" Harry exclaimed. Her mind was reeling and she just couldn't understand what was happening here. "I have several people I can call as witnesses to prove I didn't commit a single murder." She implored, but the Auror seemed unmoved.
"Look," Abeba interrupted her once more. "The ICW doesn't really care about a few dead cultists in some backwater village. It doesn't even matter to us that you murdered the Curator of the British Museum, Mr. Hafez. The root of the matter is that we just can't have British Wizards galavanting around the world causing more problems for us."
Harry's mind was racing. Dead cultists? Mr. Hafez? "Imhotep used magic to kill those people. I had nothing to do with it." She whispered to him. Were they really going to try to pin what he did on her?
"Ah yes." He gained the smallest amount of inflection in his voice, but it could have just been sarcasm. "We've heard all about the immortal and unstoppable ancient Wizard that was brought back from the dead and will destroy the world from the Medjai. We have dismissed that claim." He waved a dismissive hand in her direction. "We do not take what those Squibs have to say with any real amount of credence."
Harry's mind was trying to go in a hundred different directions without making any real progress towards a thought. She was horrified that Imhotep's actions were going to be placed on her without any proof. Furious that this man would degrade Lock-Nah, Ardeth Bay and the other Medjai so casually just because of their lack of magical ability. Lost as to how she could convince this man or any of the ICW that Imhotep was the one responsible for those murders when they had already judged her guilty.
"I can provide several witnesses…" Harry began to say slowly as she tried to formulate some kind of plan.
"I will be honest with you, Miss Potter." Abeba cut her off once more. "The Second Wizard civil war in the United Kingdom had many long lasting ramifications for the whole of Europe. We have had other extremist groups rise up and attempt to stage their own civil wars as well as other British Nationals galavanting across Europe while causing problems as if it was their right. To combat this, the ICW has passed several laws expediting the investigation and trial processes to handle the chaos of Lord Voldemort's second defeat."
Harry could barely keep up with how fast this man was talking. "What are you saying?" She sounded so pathetic to her own ears. So much like the starved and abused child she used to be.
"The ICW has already tried you on these charges and found you guilty." Harry's blood ran cold. They couldn't do this to her! "You will be transferred to the incarceration unit shortly and will begin serving your life sentence." Abeba nodded to her before rising with the file and leaving the room.
Alone once again, Harry wanted to cry but couldn't find enough emotion inside her to. After everything she gave to stop Lord Voldemort, a childhood robbed from her and given trauma after trauma without respite, it all meant nothing to these people. They didn't even want to question her or even bother with a sham trial. Just toss her in a cell and throw away the key. Just like the British Ministry did to Sirius. She might as well have stayed in the cupboard under the stairs for all her hard work mattered in the end! She'd be put in a cell and never see the people she cared about again. Any hope she had of seeing her friends again were ripped away from her and thrown away like it was worthless trash.
Just like they were about to do to her.
As she slowly began to fall down that never-ending pit of despair that she was so familiar with, a new sensation brought her out of it, if only a little. A white hot feeling started to drip down her shoulders and her spine. She recognized the feeling as the same feeling she felt when Lock-Nah was talking strangely about Imhotep to her. That conversation had happened only days ago and yet it felt like years at this moment. That hot feeling kept dripping down her shoulders, exactly like before, until it changed and began spreading throughout her body, filling every nook and crack of her mind and soul. It felt so comforting despite her still not knowing where this feeling was coming from. It continued to spread until she was full to the brim and had successfully brought her back to the edge of that dark pit. Despite still feeling all of those familiar negative emotions, they dulled further with each passing second until she wasn't afraid anymore. This feeling inside her made her believe that everything would be alright.
Harry tried to shake off the feeling and come back to herself, but it was difficult. It was like this calming feeling had a mind of its own and it wasn't going to leave her. She needed her wits about her to try to get out of the awful situation she had found herself in this time. One last try failed like the first, so she let it be. Another mystery for another day. So many mysteries saved up to explore, but did she have any more days?
The door opened and Abeba stepped in again. He detached the handcuffs from the table with a practiced ease and pulled Harry by her left arm back out of the room with a continued lack of care. He practically dragged her further down the nondescript hallway until it finally ended. A set of thick doors at the end of the hallway opened into what must have been the main atrium of the ICW Headquarters. The room was huge, bigger than the British Ministry in more ways than one. The offices with fancy marble balconies went straight up for what seemed like forever. There were large moving banners of people hung up all around the huge room which Harry guessed were the different department heads. Harry wondered with a mental sneer which one of the banners had decided her fate.
The overwhelming urge to fight or run or do something overcame her and she pulled sharply against Abeba's grip. It shouldn't have surprised her that his grip was absolutely solid. He reared around on her and pushed her up against a stone wall with his wand pushing hard into her neck.
"I would suggest you do not do that again, Miss Potter." Abeba threatened her lowly. It was the most amount of emotion he'd shown since she had met him. "The ICW has lifted other requirements for incarceration procedures, including the state that you are allowed to arrive at the incarceration unit in."
Harry wasn't sure how the ICW operated before Britain's many wars, since she was either a small child or not even born, but she was disgusted by how far they had fallen. Throwing people into jail without a proper trial or even much evidence and allowing their Aurors to harm the people in their custody was too far down the wrong path any governing body should take.
"You cannot do this." Harry stated firmly. She wasn't sure if she was trying to threaten him or warn him, but it didn't look like Abeba cared about her words whatsoever.
"You are in no position to order me!" Abeba yelled right in her face.
The two of them stood there, pressed against the wall while glaring at each other. Harry was hoping to come up with some kind of a plan to get out of this whole situation, but she knew that Abeba was more than willing to harm her for even thinking about trying. That didn't even touch what she would do with the ICW hunting her down. She didn't want to live the rest of her life on the run.
A foreign hand appeared and clapped Abeba's right shoulder hard before he was turned quickly to the side and away from Harry.
"Imhotep." Harry gasped. She had hoped he would come for her, but she was still afraid he wouldn't for whichever of the numerous tolerable reasons she had heard in the past. Just looking at him calmed her very soul. Despite her euphoria over finally having someone in her life that came before the bad part, she did not miss the feeling of pure rage rolling off of him.
Abeba growled something to Imhotep that Harry didn't catch since she was no longer paying the cruel Auror any attention. Abeba put his wand right into Imhotep's face and shot off a bright green spell that Harry knew far too intimately. Imhotep didn't even blink as the spell bounced off his face and blew up against a statue near them. Imhotep responded, as callous as Harry had come to know him as, without a speck of emotion on his handsome face, he grabbed Abeba by the neck with his left hand and lifted the Auror into the air as if he weighed nothing. Abeba tried to fire off another spell at Imhotep, this one a bright red one, but it bounced off just like the first one to blow up near enough to Harry that she flinched.
Imhotep's eyes darted to her for the briefest moment, showing Harry the wildfire of his rage in his eyes, before they returned to the Auror that was flailing helplessly in his grip. As soon as Imhotep's eyes were back on Abeba, the Auror burst into blinding flames that covered his entire body. The man began screaming shrilly and tried to thrash about except Harry knew that Imhotep was keeping the man contained as he was consumed. The fire burned hot and fast and after only a brief moment, Abeba had stopped screaming and moving all together. The fire burned out nearly instantly once the Auror stopped moving and Imhotep punctuated his disdain for the man by throwing his burnt corpse away as if it were nothing more than a piece of lint. Harry's eyes followed the brutal attack and now saw the many people that had surrounded them, their wands at the ready. Imhotep was unconcerned by it all and turned to Harry. He reached out for her hands, which were still bound by the cuffs, and sneered.
"How far those chosen by the Gods have fallen." He hissed softly, as if he was speaking to himself. He grabbed her hands with a gentleness that seemed so at odds with the brutal act she just watched him commit. He pulled on the handcuffs and they stretched as they were pulled away from her like they were made of Candy Floss.
Harry couldn't help herself in that moment and threw her arms around Imhotep's neck, holding him tight to her. She had come so close to being jailed for life for a crime she did not commit. Like most of her life, alone against the horrors of war. Sure, she had Ron and Hermione for much of that time, but this was different. This was like Arthur or Sirius or Remus coming for her in her time of need. A powerful person using that power to help her out of a jam. Not because she was useful in their scheme or advantageous in their war. For her and her alone.
"Thank you." Harry whispered in parseltongue into his ear as she tried hard to not let any tears fall. She saw that there were now twenty, but probably more, people standing behind them with their wands at the ready, but Harry didn't care. She knew Inhotep would protect her from these wizards playing at being tyrants.
"Fear is an emotion you no longer need to feel." Imhotep hissed softly back to her. One of his hands settled into the small of her back firmly and Harry couldn't help the swell of emotion that rose in her. Listening to his low voice that oozed confidence, she wanted to believe him. She was sick and tired of being afraid all the time but she wasn't sure how she could just stop being afraid. She had been afraid for so long.
Imhotep used his magic and apparated them away from the ICW headquarters smoothly, the surroundings melting away and into the new location. It took her a moment to figure out where he had brought them. They were back in the overly extravagant office Imhotep had made for her back in Egypt.
Harry pulled back from Imhotep so that only her hands linked by her fingers were resting against the back of his neck, her mind still hyper aware of the skin to skin contact they still shared. They were closer than they ever had been before and Harry's body yearned to close the distance once more. Imhotep moved to remove her hands from his neck emotionlessly.
"Why?" Harry whispered in parseltongue once more. She needed him, now more than ever, but had no way to actually vocalize that need. There weren't many times in her life that she had been allowed to show such weakness outside of close friends and family, so she wasn't sure how he would react. She didn't know him!
"I must punish those responsible." Imhotep responded calmly. He removed her hands from his neck, but held them in his hands like they were precious gems. "I will return to you once it is finished." He looked at her with that same intensity that she had come to know about him.
Harry knew what he wasn't saying. He was going to go back to the ICW headquarters and kill everyone that he could find. He had threatened to level the village if anything happened to her there, so she could assume he was planning on at least doing something similar. People were going to die brutal deaths like the now seven murders she had watched him commit. She should say something. Stop him or something!
But did she want to?
Harry knew stopping him from killing nearly everyone who worked in the ICW was the right thing to do, but she couldn't find it in her to actually do that when they themselves weren't doing the right thing. She was tired of being one of the few people it seemed were actually trying to fix things. She was tired of being the only one that cared about what was right and just while so many people in charge only cared about power. Abeba had proved to her how meaningless her actions during the war were perceived by those outside of the country, so why should she continue to carry a flag that didn't seem to matter anymore? She wanted it to matter, but it wasn't like she could make anyone else care. Harry was just one kid trying to stop a tsunami with a broom.
"Just…" Harry began to say but choked on her words. There was a battle inside her and she wasn't sure which side was winning or even which side she wanted to win. "Make it quick." She finally said. If there was a higher power out there like the Christians believed, she hoped they understood her actions. "Don't let them suffer." She begged him softly.
Imhotep's expression did not change, but his eyes did soften as he regarded her. "You care about them, despite what they were going to do to you." He stated, not leaving any room for her to argue.
Harry wanted to tell him not to hurt those people. It didn't matter what they were doing, just that they thought they were doing what was right to keep the majority of people in Europe and beyond safe and from harm. But did that excuse their actions? Throwing people away without a proper trial. It wasn't right! But was she in any position to judge them? Was Imhotep, for that matter?
"To a degree." Harry replied once she found the most truth she still possessed within herself.
Imhotep nodded, seemingly accepting her answer. "I will bring vengeance to your enemies, but I will spare them their most righteous ends." Imhotep declared to her, still with that same intensity in his eyes as he looked at her. She was beginning to believe in the power he said she had over him.
"Thank you." Harry croaked out.
Imhotep tilted his head slightly as he regarded her. "Thank me when you sit on your rightful throne." He declared before he used his magic to apparate away.
Standing alone in the office that had been gifted to her by the man that was now most likely killing innumerable people, Harry never felt more lost. So close to losing everything. So close to being thrown away like the Dursely's always tried to do to her. How was she supposed to process everything that had happened in what was probably only twenty or thirty minutes? Her entire world view had been challenged in a way so much worse than anything the Purebloods in Great Britain could even dream of managing.
Harry sat down on the steps that led up to the fancy desk, put her face in her hands and cried. She cried over what had happened at the ICW, over what happened during the war, over her childhood, and all the people she had lost over her short life. She cried until she had cried out all her emotions and she was left an empty shell of a person. There was no telling how long she had sat there crying so there was no way to figure out how much more time it would take for Imhotep to come back to her.
Come back to her, she scoffed at her own train of thought. What was wrong with her? Imhotep was a monster. He killed people without care and little provocation. He wanted to bring the world under his rule and kill anyone who tried to stop him. Just like Lord Voldemort and Gellert Grindelwald wanted. Why was it that those names filled her with righteous hatred while Imhotep did not? Was it because she found him attractive? She'd never had anyone light the fire in her soul quite like him but was that the reason she stepped aside and let him commit his deplorable acts? Was she even looking at this situation from the right angle? She didn't know. At this point, she could only hope that her letter had made it to Hermione and that her and Ron would be there to help her soon. She was so far out of her depth that she was drowning.
Instead of thinking about anything of substance, Harry laid her forehead on her knees and closed her eyes. She tried to meditate like Luna had suggested to her a few times but found that her mind had a mind of its own. Of the few stray thoughts she allowed to blossom in her mind were mostly little things that didn't matter. She thought about the potions that she had agreed to make for the locals. That thought gave her a small bit of happiness and satisfaction. Harry liked helping people. Helping people was easy and rewarding. Clione and Zalika were a treat to be around and she found their naivety refreshing if not a little concerning.
Finding no more happy thoughts that weren't somehow tainted by the war, Harry closed her eyes and rested her mind. She had no idea how much time passed and she didn't really care. She just wanted to go to sleep and never wake back up. How she longed to have a normal life, but that seemed too far away to be attainable anymore.
While there was no noise to announce his return, Harry knew when Imhotep came back from his crusade. He kept his magical energy close to himself for some reason but Harry couldn't really care. She still hadn't figured out how she felt about him and his murdering ways.
"So it's done?" Harry asked without lifting her head from her lap, her voice devoid of all the emotion she cried out earlier. Imhotep did not answer right away, but that was fine. She didn't want to rush into the news about the terrible things she had allowed him to do to her own kind.
"Yes." He finally stated with some hesitance, though Harry didn't know why. Why now did he hesitate when he never had before?
"Look." Harry said as she stood up from the step she had been sitting on for who knows how long. Her back and butt did not hurt, which she might find interesting if she had anything left inside her that cared. "I appreciate the time and care you've provided me during my stay here, but I think it's time for me to leave." Even with the boost from the stairs, she was still shorter than Imhotep by a bit. Harry looked to the closed office door, not wanting to look at the one man that somehow managed to break her resolve just by looking at her. "Maybe go back home, to Great Britain, and see everyone. Maybe see the world." Harry smiled, though there was nothing behind it.
Harry looked back to Imhotep and found him staring at her with an open look. She noted that he had lost some of that intensity that he usually had, but she wasn't sure why. Then again, she still wasn't sure why he wanted her here with him. Oh sure, she knew what he and Heka had told her, but she didn't believe either of them when it came down to it. She had no reason to believe what they said. She had no reason to believe anyone anymore. It was all too much and she was still so tired.
Imhotep continued to look at her silently and Harry decided to wait to see if he had anything to say. It wasn't like there was somewhere she had to be. She dropped her eyes to the floor when she felt the slight pull within her chest towards him. She would hold tight to what little resolve she still possessed and wait to see what he said. It'd give her a good idea on how hard it would be to leave if he forced the issue.
"I was once like you." Imhotep hissed slowly. Despite her resolve, Harry looked back to the man. "A prodigy in my own right. Powerful beyond what my teachers expected from my breeding. What I lacked, what you lack now, is purpose." He finished with a soft sigh.
Purpose. She wanted to be angry that he had boiled down all her problems in life to a single word, but it did make a lot of sense. For all her life, from the Dursley's to Lord Voldemort, she fought for her life. That left little time to think of the future. Sure, she had many nebulous ideas for what she could do once the fighting was finished, but made no concrete plans. Even her idea of becoming an Auror had been put on hold and subsequently forgotten during the war. Hard to make plans for the future when dying tomorrow was a very real possibility.
"It's not like I can go to the corner shop and pick up some purpose." Harry sighed out.
Imhotep chuckled softly. "The Gods would never be that kind."
"Then what would you suggest I do? How can I find this purpose that I am apparently lacking?" Harry questioned a little sharply, but she couldn't help it. Just once she would like it if the answer she sought was easy to find.
"I can only speak of my own experiences in this regard." He began slowly. Harry wondered why he was being so gentle with her, but chose not to question it since she liked it. "I was lost until I was accepted into Osiris's Temple. The teachers there taught me control. They taught me about my own power. But most importantly, they gave me purpose." He spoke severely, but his face remained soft. Harry couldn't sparse the oxymoron of his words and actions. It just gave her a headache.
"So what are you suggesting? That I join a church?" Harry asked not a little bit sarcastically. She had so little faith left these days that the idea of joining any church made her inwardly cringe.
Imhotep chuckled with a small smile before answering. Harry didn't think the man could get more attractive, but he seemed to be constantly surprising her with every interaction they had. "Not quite." He let his mirth die down before continuing. "It's clear to anyone with sense left in their chest that you want to help people." It was a question and a statement all wrapped into one.
"Of course I want to help people." Harry felt herself prickle slightly. Was he suggesting that she didn't? She was renovating an entire kitchen to cook potions specifically to help the locals here! She didn't have to do any of that!
Imhotep smiled kindly at her. "There are many ways to help people and find your purpose." He stated. He stepped toward her, bringing himself just within reaching distance of her. "You need only to find the courage to ensnare it." He spoke harshly, like he was trying to coach her through this hurdle.
"Ensnare it?" She asked, thoroughly confused. How could she just take something like purpose? This man existed only to vex her.
"You have so much power. I can feel that it is poised to bend whatever you desire to your will." Imhotep paused, seemingly to let his words sink in. "You need only to command it."
Harry scoffed. "You talk like it's just so easy to do such a thing."
Everything would be so much easier if you could just take what you needed, but then what kind of a world would that be if everyone could do that? If even one person had that power…how easy would it be to abuse it. No one should have that kind of power over anyone else.
"I am unaware of any mortal given the ability to attain Godhood. I can say that, if there were any such blessed ones, there has been nothing written of their journey." Imhotep explained. "However, I am pleased to be here to aid you in yours"
Harry looked at Imhotep closely, trying to find a lie about anything in this conversation, but he was as hard to read as Professor McGonagall ever was and she knew she was outclassed in this regard. He had successfully peaked her interest though. Heka had spoken about the power she allegedly had much in the same way Imhotep did now. All this made Harry wonder about this power. Was it real and was it something she would actually want to use?
"How am I supposed to access this power I allegedly have?" Harry asked the strange man timidly. She wasn't sure how he could aid her in this journey, but a growing part of her wanted to see this through. What could be the harm, a little voice in the back of her mind questioned ardently. "Doesn't seem like the type of thing I can get from a book." She added limply, trying to think about how Hermione would handle this situation.
"You have already begun your journey." He made a familiar motion that she still couldn't translate. "The alchemy workshop you are building is coming along splendidly." He seemed to suggest rather than say. "Soon, it will be ripe and can be assigned to the alchemist of your choosing." He gave her another small smile.
"It's just some silly potions." Harry sighed unhappily. It really was just a way to distract herself from all the looming life-changing decisions she didn't want to make.
"Perhaps to you." Imhotep muttered as he took another step towards her. He was now nearly chest to chest with her, though she found no reason to move away from. This was the most they had ever spoken to one another and she wasn't willing to end it too quickly. "Your effort, no matter how small you feel it is, will mean the Nile to those you help." He looked at her with such affection that she nearly missed his words.
"I know it'll mean a lot to them." Harry sounded so pathetic to her own ears, but he was right. She was lost and lacking purpose or even a sense of direction. "I just feel so lost." She finally admitted with a cracking voice. A part of her didn't want to show this stranger such an intimate and broken part of herself, but the rest of her didn't care. He hadn't shied away from her or criticized her in any way thus far. And if he ever did, made her feel small and pathetic like so many other had, then she'd leave. Such a novel feeling, having the ability to leave an awful situation when she wanted to instead of when forced.
"I know." Imhotep stated so kindly. "I felt much the same during my own journey." He grimaced slightly. "I feel I am still traveling that long road. I will share a piece of wisdom given to me by my most adored teacher at the Temple." Imhotep grabbed her right hand slowly, probably so he wouldn't spook her, and brought her hand to his neck, palm flat against his throat. She tried to yank her hand back, almost feeling scalded by the skin contact, but he held her in place firmly. "Take what you want from me." He ordered her sternly.
"Excuse me?!" Harry tried hard not to screech her question out, but her entire body had gone haywire with such simple contact. She tried once more to pull her hand away, but she knew it was useless. "I will not!" She stated as firmly as her voice would allow her.
"You must." Imhotep looked down on her with that same look she knew him for. Profound and violent, yet fully restrained for her benefit. The idea that he caged himself for her benefit did make her feel a little more in control of this crazy situation. That a man, who she knew was so much older and more powerful than her, allowed her to have so much control over him…well, it was hard to not feel that power within her entire being. "I am gifting you complete control over my vessel." Imhotep moved the hand that was holding her hand against his throat by her wrist to cover her hand with his own hand, and made her grip his throat a little tighter. "Take." He commanded, teeth bared, or maybe begged. His tone was hard to interpret, if she had any mind left to her.
Harry looked up at Imhotep, wondering what game he was playing at here, but it didn't seem like there was a game. She'd been fooled so many times before by people manipulating her, but this felt different. Kind of the same, yet different in a way she hadn't had a chance to figure out. Every unanswered question and lingering mystery she had encountered since being brought here began crawling out from the crevices of her mind, demanding her attention with increasing urgency. A maelstrom was building inside her skull, threatening to break out if she didn't do something to stop the noise.
Harry looked back to Imhotep, not noticing that her eyes had dropped to the floor between them, and found him still watching her like a predator. But he was a patient predator. He was older and so much more powerful than her. And yet here he was, waiting patiently for her to take whatever she wanted from him. Didn't she start this day with the resolve of trying to be a little bit selfish? That felt like a lifetime ago now. She was tired. Tired of…so much in her short life. She just wanted to live her life by her own decisions instead of what someone had decided decades ago. The pressure of everything she'd seen and experienced kept building up pressure inside of her body and mind and she finally decided to just go with her gut on this situation. Consequences be damned.
Without really thinking it through, Harry gripped Imhotep's neck, just like he was doing with his hand. His face had barely moved, but she could see the pleasure in his dark eyes. She could see that he wanted more and she was beginning to realize that she did too. Her decision was made, Harry pulled Imhotep by the neck towards her and into her lips roughly.
The feel of Imhotep's lips against her own sent an electric thrill through her body. It felt like nothing had before that moment. It was thrilling and felt so right. Harry was just about to open her mouth for him when her brain finally caught up to what she was doing and whom she was doing it with. She pushed his head back sharply. She had wanted to push him back her full arm length, but her body disagreed, keeping him close enough that she could feel his breath tickle her face.
"What am I doing?" Harry whispered harshly to herself. When had she lost so much control of herself?
"Do not run from me now." Imhotep expressed with noticeable urgency. His arms snaked around her body, holding onto her without moving her.
Harry was caught off guard by how tangible his urgency was. She knew he wanted her in a way she had trouble comprehending for her age but perhaps she had misjudged just how deep that desire went. That knowledge didn't scare her like she thought it would. Imhotep's desire for her did not bother her.
Making up her mind, Harry pulled Imhotep to her once more, pressing his lips to hers once more. The electric feeling from the first kiss was more mellow the second time around, feeling like every nerve ending in her body was tingling pleasantly. His arms tightened around her and pulled her body the scant space between them into his own body firmly. Harry was rendered senseless from all the new contact and it was quickly becoming too much for her to even comprehend. His strong arms made her feel like he would always keep her safe. His solid body was unlike anything she'd ever felt in any of the hugs or furtive encounters with classmates she'd ever had. One of his hands slid down to her lower back and spread his fingers out slowly, using the new leverage to more firmly press his erection against her.
Harry pulled back once more but only a scant distance this time, allowing their breaths to mingle in the space inbetween. Imhotep didn't move to close the distance. He waited while looking down at her with dark eyes full of a primal hunger. Harry could see the hunger in his eyes, could feel it in her own chest. Take. His only command for her or maybe request. Harry was having a hard time holding onto her thoughts while this man held nothing back. Laid himself bare before her without a hint of shame. She reached up to his face with her free hand and placed gentle fingertips on his chin. Seeing Imhotep make no move to stop her or remove her touch, she pulled on his chin and he obediently opened his mouth for her. Harry pulled him forward by his neck once more, not that Imhotep seemed to mind, and took an open mouthed kiss from him.
The slow slide of her tongue against Imhotep's was the only part of her that existed in that moment. It was like nothing she had ever experienced. Not flying, not magic…nothing. She took her time, kissing him slowly and giving into all the sensations he brought out in her. Her grip on his neck tightened as she deepened the kiss even more. Harry had never felt so alive or so hungry in her life. Imhotep must have felt the same way, given how tight his own grip on her body became. This kiss was so unlike any other kiss Harry had ever had. There was no hesitation or clumsiness with Imhotep. His movements were sure and true.
Harry was overcome with the powerful hunger for more. More of the magical power Heka had been giving her. More of the certainty of the future being promised. She wanted more of Imhotep. His unwavering devotion, his unending hunger…his hard body pressed against her. She wanted him to give her more of the desire he had laid before her and was pressing into her. She wanted him to push her further than she'd ever been. Harry wanted him so badly that it scared her.
Harry quickly pushed Imhotep away from her by his neck more forcefully than was strictly necessary. "That's enough of that." She gasped out, unable to get enough air through all the sensations that were assaulting her.
Imhotep did not seem the least bit put off by the sudden change. "As my Goddess commands." He uttered lowly with that stupid smirk back on his stupid face. He didn't seem the least bit affected by their kiss while she felt like she was being engulfed by the tide of feelings.
Harry tried to rub away the numerous powerful feelings she was still grappling with from her arms. The motion did nothing for her but it did deepen the smirk on Imhotep's lips. The lips she'd just kissed. The thought made her own lips tingle pleasantly. "I need you to…go…somewhere else. Please." Harry stuttered out, unable to meet the man's eyes.
Imhotep bowed his head deeply to her. "I will not roam far should you require my presence once more." His tone dripped with what Harry could only think to call masculine pride. She'd heard Ron and Fred use it a few times with girls. This was the first time someone had used it on her that wasn't creepy as fuck.
Imhotep left the office quickly, leaving Harry to try to get her body back under control. It took a lot longer than she'd ever admit to to get her legs to hold her weight well enough to even attempt walking. There was too much bouncing around her head. Harry needed somewhere quiet to think. She couldn't stay in the place where she'd just lost so much of her senses and she didn't want to go to the Oasis either. Having no better ideas at the moment, Harry went to the kitchen she was still renovating.
Making sure to close the door behind her tightly, Harry picked a random prep station to sit at. The room was quiet and dark with the door closed. Few people had a reason to even walk down the hallway, so she at least had until Zalika or Clione eventually came here to be alone.
Once she settled down, she was at a loss as to where to start. So many thoughts and questions were demanding her attention inside her head. She had been trying to get everything straight in her head once more, but had been failing when each new thing threatened to break her once more. A conversation her and Hermione had when they were alone in the Forest of Dean after Ron left came to her mind. Harry had been having an especially rough day handling pretty much everything and Hermione had tried her best to help by suggesting binding her painful memories into books in her mind and placing them on the shelf. Detaching all emotion from them to better examine the information there. To find a solution that might have been hidden by those emotions
Having nothing better to try, Harry set to trying to pull her emotion away from the innumerable painful memories she continued to hold onto. She started small with the memories of her childhood with the Dursely's which was made easier with Dudley's efforts to mend their relationship after the Dementor attack. The death of her parents was also easy since she didn't really know them. Memory after memory was examined, emotions severed to the best of her ability, and placed on the bookshelf of her mind. There were many memories that she had trouble severing the emotions from. Many events with Lord Voldemort as well as Dumbledore were going to take more effort to deal with. More memories put away and, hopefully, would no longer linger in the recesses of her mind to jump up and cause her problems at random. This effort would be well worth it if it meant she wouldn't have to deal with random panic attacks anymore.
With the older memories hopefully dealt with, Harry turned to the newer memories. The ones involving Imhotep still confused her greatly. Those were ones that she was going to need to talk through with someone she trusted. Thinking about who she trusted enough left her with a heartbreakingly short list. It seemed like she was going to have to wait for Hermione to write her back before she could fully deal with the thoughts and feelings that were evolving quickly for the man in question.
That word caught Harry's attention. Man. Imhotep was very clearly older than her but how much older than her was he? She'd managed to get enough small comments out of Lock-Nah as well as what she could infer from the tense conversation between him and Ardeth Bay to piece together some of Imhotep's legend as believed by the Medjai. He was a man that lived in Ancient Egypt, he did something pretty terrible, and was punished by the ancient Medjai. A punishment that was alleged to have been continuing for the thousands of years Imhotep spent gone, but that didn't seem to be the case. Even Heka had made a few comments that lent credence to that legend being at least partially true. Harry wasn't sure she believed any of it, but she was not going to outright disregard it. No one had mentioned how old Imhotep was when whatever happened long ago might have happened, so Harry was left to guess. The last thing she wanted to do was ask him.
Having done as much thinking as she wanted to do right now, she decided to get back to life already. She'd made some good progress trying to compartmentalize all her bad memories to the best of her ability and without an actual therapist to help. Only time would tell how successful she had been.
Harry shook her head trying to shake out any lingering feelings in her shoulders. She was already feeling better just from what little she was able to do on her own. She opened her eyes and her whole body immediately flinched hard when she saw Imhotep sitting at the prep table with her. All Harry could do was glare at the man that seemed far too amused with himself while she clutched her aching chest and took in stuttered breaths.
"Was asking for a bell too much?" Harry asked as sarcastically as she could manage.
Imhotep only chuckled in response. He reached out and removed her left hand from her chest so gently that she barely felt his touch. "Were I to live forever, I would never grow tired of watching you use Divine Magic." He spoke softly, almost reverently, as he also placed an equally soft kiss onto the back of her hand. Harry had nothing to say to any of that. Thankfully, Imhotep did not let her suffer long. "I did not wish to interrupt your meditation, though it seems you already knew you were needed by your faithful." Imhotep continued to speak to her in that soft tone that she liked.
Imhotep stood up first and helped her stand up in a very gentlemanly manner that Harry had never really experienced. She noticed how little her body hurt from sitting as he guided her out of the kitchen and towards the front of the building. Imhotep continued to hold her hand, though he held it in the air between them. She could only assume that this is how people were escorted from where or maybe when he was from.
"Is something wrong?" Harry asked timidly. She quite liked this version of Imhotep and wasn't keen to watch it be replaced by the more bloodthirsty version, even if that version of him was still exciting.
"Your favorite found a foreign jackal hunting you." Imhotep's words were usually harsh, but they took on a sharper edge with the word 'favorite'.
Harry didn't really understand what he was saying, but chose to wait and see since they were coming up to the large main room of the building. The first thing she saw was Lock-Nah, standing tall and respectfully next to someone who was kneeling on the hard floor with their head down. Nothing but a messy mop of bright ginger hair.
"Lock-Nah? What's going on here?" Harry asked as they approached. Imhotep dropped her hand with care and did not stop her as she continued to approach the two people.
"Found one of your countrymen asking questions about you." Lock-Nah explained respectfully. She was grateful when he did not use an honorific when addressing her. "I thought you might want to know." He finished with a bowed head.
"Hey there Harry." The person on the floor spoke softly with a very clear British accent as they lifted their head to reveal Bill! Harry was overcome with emotion at seeing someone that she recognized in this place and ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck.
"Bill!" Harry exclaimed as she hugged the older brother she never had. She pulled back, ready to excitedly ask if Ron and Hermione had come with him, when she noticed a large and nasty looking bruise that covered most of the left side of his face centered around his eye that was swollen shut. "Oh, Bill. What happened?" She asked with great worry as she stroked his cheek with great care.
Before Bill could even respond, Harry could feel Imhotep's dark presence quickly surround her and began to press in on her body. It almost felt like millions of little hands were trying to grab onto her body and magic. The feeling made her heart race in a very similar way to the way it did when they kissed. It felt nearly as intimate.
Harry turned her head to look at Imhotep who looked like he was a hair's breadth away from murdering Bill. "This is Bill." Harry explained in Parseltongue to Imhotep. His eyes darted to look at her but he didn't move otherwise. His magical presence gripped onto her harder. "He's my best friends older brother." Her mind was racing with a way to keep Imhotep from doing anything to Bill. "I'm also good friends with his wife."
"Wife?" Imhotep answered a little too quickly. It took absolutely every bit of her self control to not smile. He was jealous! Something to be giddy about once things settled down.
"Yes. Her name is Fluer. She's quite lovely." Harry managed to keep her voice steady. Harry turned back to Bill now that she had managed to placate Imhotep. If he was concerned or confused about what was happening here, he hid it well. "What happened?" Harry motioned to the large bruise on his face.
"Was trying to find any information on you by talking to the locals." He shrugged inelegantly with his right shoulder. "Your boy here has a wicked right hook." Bill nodded to Lock-Nah with a crooked smile that Ron had sometimes.
Harry couldn't help the small laugh that bubbled up from her chest even as Imhotep's magic pressed in on her body, making it hard to breathe. She ran her left hand across the bruise as carefully as she could, wishing she could wipe it away. Which it did, startlingly. As her fingers passed over the ugly bruise, it was wiped away, like it had never been there. She let out a small laugh as she carefully wiped the bruise on Bill's face away.
"There we go." Harry said happily once the bruise was gone and Bill was able to open his eye once more. "All better."
"Harry. Your eyes…they…glowed gold." Bill said with a small amount of urgency. Imhotep's dark presence became sharper, wanting to hurt Bill but did not because of her affection for him.
"A new type of magic I'm trying out." Harry explained simply. She really didn't want to get into everything that had been happening to her since the failed ritual at Malfoy Manor. "What are you doing here?"
Bill laughed attractively. "Right. That. Hermione was packing to come down here within an hour of getting your letter. Took us everything to keep her in place long enough to talk." Bill chuckled again.
Harry laughed, knowing how stubborn Hermione could be once she set her mind to something. "That sounds like her." She looked down at his body, now seeing that his hands had thick metal shackles around his wrists with a thick metal chain that looked like it had broken through the floor. She grabbed onto the junction of the cuffs and chain, wondering how to ask to have them removed, but seemed to phase through his hands when she gave a half hearted pull and came off with a heavy thunk. "Oh, hey!" Harry exclaimed. "That was easy."
Harry helped Bill up to his feet and he rubbed at his wrists and his face where the bruise once was once steady. "Well, this has already been a very interesting day. Oh!" Bill reached into one of his pants pockets with a sharp movement that made Lock-Nah flinched towards them but he managed to keep himself from moving further. Imhotep's magical presence coiled around her even tighter, though not enough to cause her any discomfort, but it was getting very close. Bill pulled out a small bag that looked similar to the beaded bag Hermione heavily enchanted for their mission during the war. This one was silky looking and a deep green color. "Mom and Dad convinced her and Ron to stay in Britain with three conditions. One, I would be the one that came here since one of the Archaeology teams I worked with was at a dig site near here. Two, I would write back to her with any and all information I see. I would appreciate some help there." Bill requested her directly, making her laugh. "And three was that I would deliver this bag to you. She spent three days enchanting it and packing everything she could think you might need or want. Pretty sure everyone added something in there, so you'll have fun going through it." Bill tossed the bag to her with a flick of his wrist.
Harry opened the bag excitedly, wondering if Hermione remembered everything of hers that was stored in her own bag. At a glance, she could see all her school books and clothes as well as numerous packaged foods that she knew had preserving spells cast on them. She was giddy just thinking about really diving into the bag and seeing what all her best friends packed for her.
"Thanks Bill! This means a lot!" Harry hugged his chest this time even as Imhotep's magic tried to pull her away. Bill hugged her back tightly, unaware of what was happening magically. "What's your plan now?" She asked once she detached from him.
"Well, we still need to talk and write at least one letter back home, but I did promise an old friend of mine from my Curse-Breaking days a few drinks tonight. How about we meet up tomorrow and catch up?" He suggested.
"Sounds wonderful. I'll make sure you can get a hold of me." Harry assured him.
Bill smiled brightly at her, but she noticed how it faltered when his eyes flicked up to behind her, no doubt to Imhotep. Perhaps she had underestimated how much he was keen to. Bill stepped around Lock-Nah and walked out the front of the building with purposeful steps.
The silence left by Bill's departure must have made Lock-Nah nervous as he was the first one to speak or move.
"Your Majesty." Lock-Nah spoke and waited for Harry to look at him. "When you have a moment, there is a matter I must speak to you about." He explained calmly, but there was a small amount of insistence in his voice.
"How urgent is this?" She asked, wondering what he could possibly need to speak to her about.
"Fairly." He replied.
Harry tried to take a deep breath, but Imhotep's magic was still pressing down on her and restricting her movement a little. "Can you give me a day or two to get my bearings?" A lot had happened today and she still wanted some time to go through the bag Bill gave her.
"I can. I will speak with you tomorrow and we can plan then." Lock-Nah bowed his head to her and walked further into the building. That left Harry and Imhotep. His magical presence did loosen once Lock-Nah was out of sight, but it didn't leave her completely. He walked closer to her, though his steps made no sound, to place his hands on her shoulders and grip her tightly.
"I dislike it when these mortal men touch you." Imhotep growled angrily.
That comment actually made her a little angry. She might have started developing feelings for him but that could be rectified if he was going to try to control her like that. Harry turned around sharply to face him and saw him pull his hands away from her like he had been burned. "Let me make this clear: You have no say on who I hold affection for or how I choose to show it." She ended with finality.
Not waiting for a comment, Harry turned and walked into the building like Lock-Nah had, shaking off his magic like an itchy coat as she went. She had assumed that grown men did not play those kinds of games in relationships. Perhaps they just played for higher stakes.