Figgy Pudding

by RoseWhispers6

After the first wizarding war, Arabella Figg's life changes forever when her memories fuse with those of a future Self Insert, creating a new, complex persona with knowledge beyond the Potter-Verse. With spycraft skills she's picked up, Arabella navigates the intricacies of the Goblin Nation, the Mer, and explores diverse magical cultures as she tries to save Harry and the world.

16. Divine, Oasis

~oo00oo~

Chapter 16

Divine, Oasis

_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
ˇ

10 February 1985

During our drive we ate a simple meal and talked about what it was like to be able to speak to animals that others could not. Harry was at turns frustrated and disappointed by the talk, but it made me silently joyful that he was expressing negative emotions around me. We had to get used to each other, no more walking on egg shells, and part of that was having negative feelings.

"Having the ability to communicate with animals is unusual and it often shows up in family lines. Not always, just often. It's one of the inheritable traits under divination." I ate a bite of my sandwich and chewed thoughtfully. "The abilities are slowly being lost. Over the last century there have been very few who have any of the unique abilities associated with family lines. There hadn't been a metamorphmagus in the Black family line since 1890, but one popped up in a cadet branch recently."

"Meta-more-majest?"

"Metamorphmagus," I said enunciating slowly. "That ability allows a wixen to change their physical appearance at will, they're born with that ability. It is an inheritable trait under transfiguration. An animagus, on the other hand, is a person who can turn into an animal after they work very hard at their transfiguration magics. And a werewolf is a person who is infected with lycanthropy and doesn't have a choice but to transform into a werewolf on the full moon. Neither of those is an inherited trait though."

That reminded me, I didn't know if the Wolfsbane potion was already out and available. That is definitely something the Potters would have funded. I'll need to look into it for Harry's new portfolio.

"So you can only be born with it? The metamorphmagus one?"

"Yes, though when you get older you can learn human transfiguration. A metamorphmagus just does it with a thought instead."

"That's so awesome," Harry said before taking a sip from his drink. "How do they know? That they can do that stuff? Is there a test? Cause I didn't know I could talk to snakes."

"Well," and here's where that heartbreak was going to come in, "I'm not entirely certain that it's you that can speak to snakes. Do you remember how we talked about the magic going through your scar? It might be because of that. I don't want you to get too excited, when you get your scar healed the ability might be gone."

Master Clinkscale and I had told Harry about the magical protections and the wild magics, but we had presented the scar as more of a magical infection that was not healing properly. He thought getting to be bathed in starlight was a neat way to fix it. Telling an abused child that a piece of the man who murdered his parents – and tried to murder him – was sitting inside his scar was just not going to happen. That sort of information could wait until we knew he was emotionally capable of handling it and after Tom was absolutely dead.

"uMmm– Well, that's okay. Cause I've got it now an' I can talk to a bunch of magic snakes while I still have it. Even though I won't have it later."

I was a little stunned. Partly because of how he had taken the idea of not being able to Speak anymore and partly because of a quote rattling around my head. For some reason I thought it was from The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe but I couldn't place it.

"Because what's the point in them being happy now if they're going to be sad later? The answer is, of course, because they are going to be sad later."

"You're right. But you should be careful when using it as it does make noise and the reactions in Britain especially won't be favorable. You see it's an ability associated with the Slytherin family and, most recently, with Voldemort. They weren't very nice so a large number of people associate the bad things they did with the powers that they had."

"That's not true though right?"

"Of course not, but sometimes people can't separate things in their heads. They think something is bad because someone once did something bad even if it isn't bad in other ways or circumstances."

How does one have this kind of philosophical discussion with a child? I had no idea, just had to wing it and hope for the best.

"Take the dancing feet charm for instance. In Britain Tarantallegra is considered to be a child's spell, used by silly children and not very effective at doing anything other than making one's feet jerk in a dance like motion. But in Laos the Tarantallegra is considered a dark spell and it is illegal for its magical population to cast. That's because decades ago a serial killer used it on people to cause them to fall down stairs or over ledges. In Laos that spell became so synonymous," look of confusion from Harry, "it meant the same thing, made them think of the death caused by the spell so much, that they outlawed its use entirely."

"So it's good in Britain, but not in Laos?"

"This is the same problem that people will have when they know someone is a parseltongue, they won't be able to separate the bad things that happened with a gift that, in and of itself, is not bad. Just like the Tarantallegra, it simply exists. It is people that make something good or bad, Harry. Britain never had the bad things happen with Tarantallegra, so they don't think of bad things for the spell. Laos had a lot of bad things happen with Tarantallegra, so they think of those bad things with the spell. It is illegal in Laos, but not illegal in Britain because of the associations it has for each group of people."

He looked so confused and I was worried that I had mucked it all up, so I settled on a compromise.

"I know that in Meso America and parts of South Asia they are very appreciative of the parselmouth ability, though I don't rightly remember all the specifics at the moment. How about, if you still have your speaker ability after your starlight bath, we go for a visit to one of those places and you can learn more about it from people like that?"

The confusion faded with a little gasp of happiness and a bright smile.

After that Harry spent his time reading quietly beside me or looking out one of the windows. I was trying to focus on a book of my own, but my thoughts continued to get pulled into what had happened with the tapestry.

I had to finish that letter to Clinkscale. There was just so much to cover, I needed a bit more time and space to write it all out. I couldn't help but wonder if she had known. Often muggleborns who have grandparents that were part of the magical world would have some indication. Perhaps he was too worried that telling her would put her in danger? He did change his name when he left, probably to avoid association with his pureblood family. Her mother's father had been born into a pureblood family, her great grandfather had active magic. Wouldn't she have mentioned it if she had known?

It's just that Lily would have qualified as a half blood, legally speaking, if she had known. A half blood is someone who had both muggle and magical family in the four generations before themselves. That sort of thing was established back in the sixties after long, drawn out political struggles. Even stranger was that on her father's side there were squibs too. Her father's grandparents had both been squibs of pureblood families. She would have been legally qualified as a half blood from either side.

If she had known, why wouldn't she tell anyone?

Why didn't she tell me?

_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
ˇ

11 February 1985

"Long ago," she said, "before the end of the time of Alexander, there was one who went out into the desert to make a new home. Si-Amun came to the oasis and here created a thriving home. He was a diviner of great ability, all the generations after him were blessed with his gift. It was considered to have been given to him by the gods and so the Temple was built to honor Amun and Horace. But in the building of the Temple Si-Amun divined that there would be a day when the people needed to separate, in his wisdom the people built the great expanse below the Temple. It is this place that is the entrance to Shali Adrár to this very day."

Bunched together in the amphitheater, Harry and I watched as the scenes behind our narrator changed to reflect the story as it was told. We had spent yesterday lazily shopping after arriving at the Oasis and were now enjoying a retelling of its history. The Haka was an informative, artful telling about the people of Shali Adrár.

"The descendants of our great Si-Amun eventually divined that the time had come to remove ourselves from the non magical community of Shali and create the city of magic known as Shali Adrár. From within the depths of the world we continued to thrive while war took hold in the outside. The council of Shali Adrár watched over the populace of Shali to take in any who proved themselves magical, so they might join us and learn our craft."

The schools of Shali Adrár that were being shown behind her were places Harry and I had plans to visit later today. The subjects of divination were taught at an advanced level here. At least it was advanced compared to Hogwarts. Many in Britain, and some of Europe, had begun to believe that it was a wooly branch of magic. That it was inferior because it wasn't as focused as transfiguration or as precise as potions.

The real problem was that there were so many forms of divination that it was up to each individual to figure out what their magic responded to best. It wasn't really a task that teenagers might be up to, but the adults that should be helping them with their studies should be able to guide them towards what their magic preferred. Albus Dumbledore was one of those believers who thought only individuals capable of prophecy could divine, that it was useless to try and teach anyone else. Even before he became headmaster in the sixties, he seemed to be influencing the education at Hogwarts.

"It is the duty of the people of Si-Amun to teach those who have forgotten how to teach themselves. Many of the world, throughout history, forget that there are differences and distinctions in the varied subject of divination. They forget that most divination is dependent magic. Dependent on caster. Dependent on reader. Dependent on subject. Dependent on person. They forget how much this influence can corrupt what is given to us through magic."

My mother and her sister were both very adept at several forms of divination and had made sure that all of us, my siblings and cousin, received a basic education before we even turned eleven. Sometimes I believed this was because my mother thought one of us may inherit her skill. Sometimes I thought it was simply because she knew that the quality of divination education was going down hill even then. I never really asked before she died and neither of my wand wielding siblings had inherited the skill to her level.

There were many types of divination. They told us that divination really could use anything from flour to chicken bones or even smoke to divine. One person might do wonders with nephomancy, reading the clouds for knowledge. But that person's sister might be better at lampadomancy, where they divine through a single flame. Or their cousin, well he might be better at bibliomancy. Even an augur needed some connection as they found the balance in the disciplines of astronomy, arithmancy, and runes. My mother and aunt had compared it to wands, everyone had a different wand because their magic was as unique as they were. It was the same with finding the right tool one could properly use for divining.

Though my mother had been capable of seeing much more than was normal for an average witch and could use many tools to the same degree, her favorite was always nephomancy. I had wonderful memories of laying out on the grass with her and interpreting the clouds for hours.

"They forget that everyone capable of magic can call upon it for divining," she said as the images behind her swirled with the many types of divination. "Today our metropolis thrives as our city opens itself to more of its brothers and sisters in magic from all over the world. We share and encourage the sharing of magical knowledge so that our histories will not be forgotten."

There was no question that they had thrived in the millennia since they broke off and founded this community. Far beneath the sleepy village of Siwa were buildings as tall as skyscrapers and acres of two or three story houses and shops that spread out for acres. Beyond the buildings there were farms, built and maintained by magic, that fed the whole populace and produced enough for the tourists as well. They had schooling in magical and muggle subjects from infancy to university levels. Their libraries were well stocked and their teachers were incredibly knowledgeable.

Some might wonder why the people of Shali Adrár were not a bigger influence on the rest of the magical world. It wasn't that the rest of the world did not believe that the people here were more capable than others in the arts of divination. It was because they were certain of it. The people of Shali Adrár walked a fine line with the rest of the world. So long as they continued their policy of non involvement with the rest of the world on politics and war, no one would attack them. The moment that they did become involved, any one of them, it was very likely that the oasis would be wiped from the map to ensure their divine arts could not be used against those in war. This was, perhaps, why they were so open to educating and sharing with outsiders. They wanted others to understand they were not the threat fear might make them out to be.

In addition to these fairly touristy intros to the history of Shali Adrár, the seminars at the school focused on the astoundingly long list of possible ways to divine. The one Harry and I had signed up for later would be an eye opening experience. It would also help create a foundation of trust and knowledge with Harry for when we shared the information about the prophecy. Harry deserved to know about the prophecy, but I was not going to just thrust that knowledge on an abused four year old. Regardless of how much magic he had been saturated in, he was still a child.

The restaurant we visited after our time at the amphitheater for the Haka was really more of an outdoor cooking area with seating and tables all around it. Though, what was outside when everything was underground?

The smell was amazing and we poked around before settling in with our little clay pots. There had been dozens of lamb heads roasting on the grills, it was a delicacy of the Berber cuisine, but the pots of tajine had drawn our attention. Rows and rows of little pots that were tall like urns, with little curls of handles on either side, were cooking on the grills beside the lamb.

A delicious steam filled with spices lazily drifted up to us when they uncovered our pots. Inside were lamb meats, fat, and brain mixed with preserved lemons, garlic, spices like cumin, and smen. Smen is made from clarified butter and salt that is left to ferment, it develops a strong taste and smell. They poured the tajine from the pots into big plates set before us, almost as big as a platter, the delicious food spreading out across its expanse.

Harry dug right in with confidence, taking a piece of the bread and dipping it in the flavorful juices before grabbing a chunk of meat and scarfing it. I laughed a bit, he must have been hungry, but he just smiled. He reminded me more of James in that moment than Lily, his eyes sparkling with mischief and a sweet smile gracing his face.

Tomorrow we would explore the interesting historical sites around Siwa, and tonight we would go to our seminar on divination, but right now we were going to shop. The Haka had said that the magical market place of Shali Adrár could be a maze more confusing than the shopping districts of Egypt on the non magical side. This was done on purpose centuries ago to fool anyone who would pierce the secrecy of the magical community. The invaders would be forever lost. After the second World War, however, the Siwa Oasis became a tourist attraction and the magical community followed. There were now magical maps that one could follow available at most of the shops and lodgings of Shali Adrár.

After our meal we grabbed one of the brightly colored maps and took off for a walk in the part of the market place we had already passed. We stopped a time or two to admire something in windows or at stalls before we were back in the market place.

"Look at this rug," Harry said in Italian as he held up a runner that had bold diamond shaped patterns.

"Do you want to spend your allowance for today on the rug?"

"No, it's just neat. But what would a rug be for allowance? Fun or Educational?"

"I suppose that would depend what you could learn from it."

We stopped in a large apothecary to replenish our supplies. I gave serious thought to gathering more supplies than just those to make the developing solution. The holiday we were on was making it a bit difficult to study up for my license and certification. I was barely holding my own with all of the letters going between myself and Master Clinkscale, which is why I decided to wait a little while longer before doing any actual brewing. The few times I had been able to sit down with a book or journal would need to be enough until we were back in Britain. Though I did get some of the more curious specimens under preservation charms that I would definitely be experimenting with once we were home.

We were very interested in any divination materials they might have as it seemed reasonable to assume that Shali Adrár would be the best place to find authentic and accurate works on the subject. Later we would look for artifacts to help us on our journey after we had learned more at the seminar. The bookstores made up whole blocks in the market space and provided information on nearly every subject.

The bookstore that we spent most of our time in was geared towards the divining arts, but had a good selection of other subjects. Harry and I had a great deal of fun going through the truly massive bookshop. We found dozens of books that we deemed worthy of looking through for information and instruction in for divination. We also found books on magizoology, herbology, and history that sparked our interest. I found a few more books on children's psychology and parent rearing that seemed more acceptable than I had found elsewhere.

While Harry was busy looking through some of the fictional children's books the owner and I were working to find books on ancient rituals, death magic, blood magic, soul magic, and the magics of other beings and creatures. I needed books that would teach me about the things Harry might be subjected to and would help me prepare myself to defend him. I also needed a book that mentioned horcruxes outright so that I could realistically bring it up with the team at Gringotts. My plan was still to use my insider position to make it appear that important objects to Voldemort were known, but I needed to pretend to not have the knowledge of horcruxes. Most of these books would be considered restricted or outright illegal in Magical Britain, but I wasn't really worried about it. Who was going to check a squib's mostly muggle home for prohibited magical books?

_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
ˇ

Most forms of divination required materials that were imbued with magic in some way to enhance the odds of actually divining anything. We learned at our late afternoon seminar that the objects needed to be made in such a way that the maker of the object did not imbue them with their own magic. Objects like dice or cards needed to be carefully crafted so that they were "clean" until they reached the user. Objects such as candles were more difficult to keep clean and would be much less expensive for the diviner to make themselves than rely on those crafted by others.

We had gotten wonderfully lost in a new bookstore while looking for divining objects that might interest Harry. The owner of the bookstore, Yimlul, suggested that we go and meet his cousin several stalls down and to the right to pick up the materials for divination. Harry was very excited about this prospect and we wandered over to the new shop, our extendable bags stuffed with books.

"Hello and welcome friends," a deep voice greeted as we walked into the dimly lit shop. A tall man dressed in white, except for a tan cotton vest, appeared from the shadows behind the counter. Harry, apparently completely over any residual shyness, smiled up at him. "Welcome to my shop. You may call me Ziri!"

Harry gave a little childish giggle at how gregarious the man was being, but introduced himself in Arabic. "Hi Ziri, I'm Matteo and this is my grandmother."

"Ah, you speak good Arabic. That is a nice thing. It is nice to meet you Matteo and Matteo's grandmother."

"Hello, it's nice to meet you too," I laughed. "Please call me Sofia. Your cousin suggested we come see you after we depleted his store of a few dozen books on divination."

"We did get other things! Like on history and animals and things like that too."

"Good, good. It is best to know a great many things. Though if one has talent in a particular area, it should be explored to its fullest. Do either of you divine?" He looked between us with a wide smile.

"My mother was very talented, though myself and my siblings never inherited it to such a level. Most of the talent seems to have gone to my cousin, who is very talented. Matteo's parents passed away when he was just a baby and were both masters of other fields with very high distinction. Neither seemed to be as talented in divination as my mother was, but that doesn't mean little Matteo won't have the ability."

"No, no of course. We find in Shali Adrár that the talent can fluctuate, especially if a person is very gifted in another way. I have a cousin who is simply amazing with all types of plants, but couldn't read a thing no matter how hard he tried. But then we realized he was looking in all the wrong places!" he said with a chuckle.

Ziri gave Harry a mock stern look and pointed at him, "It is very important to try many different ways of reading the signs before deciding that one has no talent at all. Almost every being of magic can divine to some degree, just sometimes it gets overshadowed by great talent in another area." He gave an easy shrug and moved out from behind the counter. "Let me show you all the different materials I have to help with that."

By the time we set out for dinner from Ziri's shop we had spent a large amount of money on several different tools to work divination with and Harry had used his educational allowance to buy a small divining bag with clean rune stones. Runes were really just a language and once Harry learned the language he could use cleromancy, sometimes called casting, to try and divine. Cleromancy was often done with stones or dice, but by putting runic forms into the stones one could imbue the stones with an even greater amount of magic. We learned in the seminar that this was believed to give a better, or sometimes a more personal, casting.

After a few more shops we stopped at the lamb pits for our evening meal. Every day they put entire lambs into a large pit with embers and covered it with sand, by this time the first lambs into the pits had roasted to perfection. They were just beginning to take it out as we arrived. Harry held my hand and watched with avid interest as it took three men to haul them out and place them on the butcher's table. We watched as the butcher began his expert carving, quick and efficient, and two young boys on either side separated the pieces into different piles. I gave Harry a nudge and took out my camera, he posed as they brought another lamb out of the pit behind him.

We continued on to a table to enjoy a feast of lamb and rice in a rich sauce. The whole of the lamb was used, the meats of the face were considered a delicacy. I had a quip about Harry getting cheeky with me when he bravely tried some lamb cheek, but remembered that the Dursleys often used food to cause harm to the children under their care and wisely said nothing. I suspected that the treatment of food would be a sensitive subject that I would have to be especially aware of for years to come.

_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
ˇ

12 February 1985

The small population of Siwa made the town above the Shali Adrár feel empty after the cramped excursions into Alexandria and the bustling city below the desert, though both of us enjoyed our morning walk to the Temple of the Oracle.

The temple had been a focal point for this region well into Greek and Roman times. It was famously visited by Alexander the Great where the Oracle proclaimed him as a son of Zeus, giving him the birthright needed to be able to rule over Egypt. The most interesting thing about the people of Siwa was the higher than normal level of divination abilities, so maybe it wasn't all political nonsense but we'd never know for sure.

Hidden within the Temple of Amun are many halls that run along the main chamber. This was done partly for effect, a voice could easily and eerily carry from the hall into the main chamber allowing the oracle to be heard without being seen. It was also done to disguise the entrance that lead down into the magical community of Shali Adrár. The guide book had stated the magical community began separating itself earlier than any still existing community in the whole world and suggested that it was due to a foreseen conflict without ever actually stating that as fact. Our Haka the day before gave some confirmation of this idea, but still didn't really go into any depth about what it was that they were separating for so early. On coming war? Dangers to the magical people in particular? No answers were really given.

When we arrived at the oasis after our long trip from Alexandria, we found the entrance after some careful prodding and made our way down a large curved staircase of rough hewn stone. The light was blue there and I looked up to see that there were little cut gems patterned in the walls that glowed with an ethereal light. At the end of the stairs we encountered a great door that our book said only someone of magic could open. I had Harry open it out of an abundance of caution, the book didn't say what would happen if the person didn't have a great deal of magic.

Leaving the underground magical city was much the same as entering it. We walked through the main bazaar, the only part to not require a map, and made our way to the Temple. Harry opened the door and we slowly made our way up the stairs surrounded by an ethereal blue light. Once we reached the Temple the brighter light had us squinting. Shali Adrár was properly lit, giving it an almost outdoor quality, but going from the blue light into the sunlight was difficult.

The Mountain of the Dead, or Gebel al-Mawta, was our first stop in the very early hours of Tuesday morning.

The original tomb in Gebel al-Mawta was for Si-Amun and built in the third century BC with lavish decorations, at least compared to the other tombs within the necropolis. The non magical history states that not much is known of Si-Amun as he held no official titles and that he must have been a merchant to afford such a fine tomb. The magical history tells us that Si-Amun was well known for his skills in divination, something that both his children inherited and then passed on through their lines. He was the first to settle in Siwa and paved the way for prosperity and safety for the people that settled there with him.

Many images were still intact along the walls of the tomb. Again we saw how the three cultures of the Egyptian, Greek, and Roman combined in the art work. We also noticed that Si-Amun was depicted with a staff, much like those magic wielders we had seen during our tour in Alexandria. The Haka had proclaimed that Si-Amun helped even his modern day descendents as many had fled to the tombs for shelter when the Italians began their invasion of Libya, Palestine, and Egypt during World War II.

It was still fairly early in the morning as we ate our balboula and orange juice at a café looking out over the desert under a brightly colored cloth shade. Served in a painted ceramic bowl the balboulas were a creamy type of porridge. Harry and I had chosen to drizzle our balboula with honey and oil before adding just a little bit of flaky salt that was local to Siwa. It was the cool season in the desert and that made it orange season. The fragrant juice that we drank had just been squeezed from freshly picked oranges. I may have promised Harry that he could grow orange trees in the suitcase if Avira told him it would work properly, the taste was so wonderful that he wanted to have fresh orange juice all the time. She would adore the information we had picked up about how the people of Shali Adrár keep such a large agricultural industry going in a contained area.

After our meal Harry and I checked out the lake. The salt lakes of Siwa have a higher water to salt ratio than even the famed Dead Sea. This quarry had only just opened for tourists and we were both looking forward to it. Harry and I had worked with the pond a little bit in the suitcase to get him comfortable with water, but the high ratio of salt in this lake meant that it would be even easier for him to float. I thought the experience would both be interesting and educational for him.

When we arrived we had the lake completely to ourselves. Amongst the mountains of excavated salt we carefully stepped into waters that were so clear and azure that one would think we were in the Caribbean instead of Zeitoun Lake, the largest of the salt lakes. I took a few pictures after we quickly changed into our swimwear.

"Okay, I'm going to get in here and then you can just walk right out to me."

Harry nodded as I stepped into the crystal blue waters. There was a bit of a ledge set into the lake, the water only came up to my knees before we could see it get very deep.

"Alright," I said as I held my arms out to him. For Harry the water would come up to about his chest, which was slightly deeper than what we had practiced with so far. I made sure that he understood that the intense salt ratio in the water basically made it a solid so there was no chance he wouldn't be able to float if he tried. He was still tense though, his little hands curling and uncurling in tight little fists. His shoulders were hunched and his jaw was set.

And then he almost slammed into me because he thought he needed a running start.

I caught him though, coughing and laughing about a broken rib he gave me. He calmed down and smiled.

We spent nearly an hour floating around in the salt lake before drying off and getting dressed. Harry had eventually felt comfortable floating on his own and had even allowed me to take a ridiculous number of pictures with him in various poses in and around the water.

"For my room at home!" he said as he encouraged me to take another one.

"But we need to send one to Clinkscale too!" he cried as he begged me to take one with as much of the water in the picture as possible.

The poor boy had somehow inherited my need to take a million pictures. I was so happy.

Hungry and tired we made our way back to the suitcase for lunch and a nap. Though we had aspirations of trying our hand at making some of the dishes we had eaten so far, both of us were too tired. After a quick shower to clean off most of the salt, we sat on the couch in the living room eating fish fingers and an easy pasta salad. We were both starting to nod off by the time the dishes were cleaned and put away.

After our nap we explored more of the Shali Adrár before our next seminar at the school. During the Haka we had learned that the name of the magical community's city was taken from the name of the old town of Siwa where the non magical community once lived. The old town Shali was composed of mud salt bricks that had basically melted after a massive three day rainstorm and been abandoned by the people above in the 1920s. The word adrár meaning mountain suggested that it was inside of a mountain, but it was actually quite deep underground. The guide book posed the theory that it might have been a figurative or metaphorical mountain. The Haka did not elaborate.

_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
ˇ

13 February 1985

The drive to the Farafra Oasis was about an hour and a half if we didn't bother with roads, we decided on a few things to keep us busy before we packed everything away and checked out of the campsite. Though Farafra had few places of any historical interest to me, it did have unique hot springs and easy access to a strange stretch of desert. Since we were skipping staying at Farafra for the night in order to make up time lost to the deshret lice, we went directly to the snow white portion of the desert.

Stepping out of the pleasantly lit Carriage, it took us a few minutes to adjust our eyes to the brightness of the desert. We had spent our time reading in the comfort of a space about the size of an average living room, stepping out of the artificial light into the brilliance of sunlight across a white desert was disconcerting. Stretched before us was a desert as far as our eyes could see, but unlike a normal sandy desert this one had odd protrusions made of milky white calcium. The desert was made up of clouds, great big whisps and fluffy towers that almost looked like they could move across the pale landscape.

We left the Carriage out while we explored the dunes. Drifting away from it we pointed to different chalk formations trying to determine their shape.

A mushroom!

A sphinx!

An ice cream cone!

A hawk!

This whole area of desert was once submerged under the sea and the amazing rock formations made of pure white, smooth shapes were created by erosion mostly through sandstorms. Amazingly, some of the chalky boulders still had things like shells and shark teeth embedded into them. We took a picture of Harry pointing out a particularly fearsome tooth that was jutting out of a monolith.

At one of the shops in Shali Adrár we had come upon a useful tripod that could attach to any camera. I specifically hadn't asked for a stick to be somehow integrated into the camera, but came to regret that as there were very few pictures of us together. I wanted to be more a part of my own life, I didn't want to always be the one behind the camera anymore. The longer we spent on this trip, the more I felt like I wanted to change things like that. So when we found a magical tripod that could direct the camera without additional magic I latched onto it. The shopkeeper had helped me to teach the tripod which button to push as well as teach the tripod a preset word for when to take the picture. Now Harry and I had pictures of both of us on what looked like solid clouds.

After a long time of having fun exploring the White Desert, Harry and I packed ourselves back into the Carriage to journey on to the Dakhla Oasis. We still had the Kharga Oasis to visit before we began our voyage on the Nile. The Nile cruise was the last thing to do in Egypt, though it included many stops of its own, and we could not be late.

It was afternoon by the time we reached Dakhla and we were both hungry. We needed to reach Kharga by that evening so there were no planned convenient campsites to pitch our suitcase. We wandered a bit until we smelled cooking meat and spices, following it we came upon a kebab cart.

"Food on a stick is the best food ever invented," Harry said as we carefully ate piece of tender lamb from wooden skewers.

"It isn't just meat that comes on sticks either, if you think about it."

"Really?" he whispered in awe and delight of such a simple fact.

"Yes. Umm, in Japan they have these syrup soaked donut things called dango that are on sticks. In the Philippines they take bananas, deep fry them in sugar and then put them on bamboo skewers. They do that with potatoes too. In China they have fruits that are on sticks with a hard candy coating on them… and if you think about it we do food on a stick that isn't meats too."

Harry raised a brow at me while he rearranged his skewered vegetables, trying to eat them before they fell off.

"Toffee apples."

"Tah-huh," the over dramatic gasping was followed up with throwing his head back as he rolled his eyes. I hid a smirk, that wasn't James or Lily coming through. Harry was being just Harry, without any worry of something bad happening to him. It was wonderful to see. It was also hilarious to watch a little boy roll his eyes so hard he nearly fell over.

We found our way to Deir el-Hagar, or the Monastery of Stone. It is a sandstone temple that was known as Set-whe, or the Place of Coming Home, in ancient times. It had been buried in sand for a long time and was uncovered and restored. There are plans for their local council to reconstruct some of the temple, but nothing more than that was listed in our guide book.

This temple was a festival temple rather than a cult temple and was dedicated mainly to the Theban Triad and to Thoth. It was started during the reign of Roman Emperor Nero, his cartouche can be see in the sanctuary. This temple was built to encourage settlers and they have found villages, irrigation works, and farmsteads surrounding the area of the temple.

It was more impressive than what was left at Siwa, but not nearly as impressive as what we had seen in Giza or Memphis. Despite it's appearance as Egyptian it was made solely under Roman rule. The plaster we could see was painted and very pretty and the inscriptions were wide ranging, but it was the graffiti that seemed to actually be the most interesting part of the temple. Travelers from all over had added their signatures to the temple.

In the temenos wall of the sanctuary there were many Greek inscriptions and graffiti. But when the travelers of the 19th century came to Deir el-Hagar the sand had covered most of the temple. The names of those travelers were carved into the high column and the walls of the temple's porch. A testament to the human need to say, "I was here."

We returned to the Carriage to make our way to the Kharga Oasis a little disappointed in the temple. Very few people even went into the Monastery of Stone which made it seem precious and unique. Instead the low number of visitors was more because the recovery and restoration had not made as great a progress as places we had visited that had larger numbers. In the decades to come more places of historical significance would be restored and reopened attracting tourists and historians, but for now the world was still learning to appreciate these places of history.

It's an odd thing to think that in a place like Egypt that has such monuments to ancient history prominently on display that there are places like Deir el-Hagar. Places that have been neglected or forgotten. Perhaps there are even places that are lost in the sands that have been completely lost to memory. Something that can never be recovered because there were no stories passed down about them. No one left to tell them.

_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
ˇ

14 February 1985

The Kharga Oasis was a bustling village compared to the other oases we had explored. While Siwa had perhaps the same population, it seemed sleepy and relaxed. Here it seemed everyone had something important to do and they were always in the midst of doing it. When we arrived we had gotten into the hidden village and relaxed for a time in our suitcase at the campsite. I was able to finally send that long letter to Clinkscale.

Since we were mostly back on schedule, I made sure that Harry knew we should sleep in a little more in the morning. We would still leave to explore just after breakfast, but it wouldn't be a rush to be early. The Kharga Oasis and our next stop at Aswan would be much more sedate than the rushing we had been doing lately.

The camp was part of a hidden village near the Temple of Hibis. While Shali Adrár had felt very much like a small city, Irp was more of a farming village that had a sizable market. The areas around the temple were incredibly fertile and while both communities took advantage of this to grow fruit bearing trees, they differed in what they did with the fruit. The non magical community sold the fruits in their markets and exported them to other places, it made a nice profit and was well tended. The magical community, however, took the fruits then sold a percentage of them in their market and the rest went to creating wine using the ancient magical methods that had been lost to most of the world.

As Harry and I wandered through the village in the morning we saw that, between the fruiting trees, were wooden trellises that created archways. All along the arches were grape vines, new grapes just budding here and there. We were invited by a farmer in these fields to look at the wood of the trellises more closely.

"You see just here," he said as he pointed to small cut designs made into the wood. "This is old work. Each year we take them down and bath them in the right mixtures, we pour our energies into them, and then under the light of a full moon we put them back into place. One whole lunar cycle later, we reattach the vines– which were being steadied by the trees– and then we pour our energies into them again. It is less a spell and more of a prayer. That is what makes the grapes magic. And because we have the fruits here while we do this, the fruits get caught in the good magic too. We have been doing this for many centuries, many, many generations have tended these same trellises."

In a small shop in the village wines were available for purchase. They were rather expensive, but it was unlikely that I would ever again travel to this ancient place. I decided to purchase three different amphoras of wine, the small rack with cushioning charms was free of charge. The ceramic amphoras with black writing down their shoulders were not spelled against harm as they believed magic too close for too long near the wines would effect the flavor. The ink read like a modern wine label with the name and location of the estate, the name of the winemaker, and even quality notes. The brochure the shopkeeper gave me said that the year of the pharaoh that was inscribed on the bottle was a continuance of tradition.

The people of Irp completely disregarded that there was no longer a pharaoh after the deaths of the Ptolemaic pharaohs and the take over by Rome. It was decided, in the round about way that such things seem to happen, that there was simply a new pharaoh. It is unclear who it was that initially decided the new pharaoh was Weha, but everyone went along with it. The new Pharaoh Weha had a serekh instead of the newer cartouche and within its palatial box was set a scorpion with two tails ready to sting. Since then anytime that there has been a great upheaval there was a new pharaoh. Beside the new serekh they will list the year of the new pharaoh's reign that a wine was made. Such as the 22nd year in the reign of pharaoh Weha.

Leaving the village we made our way to the nearby temple to explore.

Darius the First, a Persian ruler, originally built the temple in honor of the Egyptian gods Amun and Osiris. To date it is recognized as the largest of all the temples that had been built in Egypt during the Persian rule. It is believed to have been built on top of the ruins of the city of Hebet and that the ruins of this city are mostly under the crops nearby. Our trusty magical guide book informed us that though the larger districts of Hebet eventually were abandoned and the area reformed, the village of Irp was the last of its remnants. In the ancient languages Hebet meant plough and Irp meant wine, giving more substance to the claims that the area was split in this manner long ago.

We were met by a large sandstone gateway almost five meters high after passing through the outer wall enclosure. Rows of small sphinx lined the walkway and on the inside of the gate was an ancient notice board of sorts. During Roman rule this had been added to educate those passing through on a variety of topics such as taxation, inheritance, the court system and rights of women.

As we ventured deeper into the temple we were astounded by its vastness. It was so tall and so large that it would be more comparable in size to one of the forts in Egypt than any of the much smaller temples that we had seen. On nearly every surface there seemed to be something carved, painted, or inscribed. It seemed that generations had imprinted beauty and luxury onto every part of the temple.

"Nona look at this! It's Seth, just like we learned with the papyrus."

"I remember," looking at Harry's excited face as he pointed out the blue figure conquering what was probably Anubis. "Would you like your picture next to it?"

We spent a couple hours in the temple and, after taking far too many pictures, had returned to the campsite to escape the midday sun. Back in the suitcase we ate roast chicken kebabs and planned out the rest of the afternoon.

"It will certainly be difficult getting used to the damp of home again after all this," I mused as I picked at my vegetables.

"We'll have sunshine inside, though, right?"

"Oh, yeah. Avira is making us gardens and exercise rooms and even a great big pool."

"I want to put more veggies in my garden here when we get home."

"As long as you take care of them that would be fine with me, but we're going to have gardens on Wisteria so really think about it. Give it a month or two after we get there before you make a decision."

"I will."

He sounded very serious about it. I was hoping the houses would have enough for him that the suitcase wouldn't feel like something he absolutely needed. It would provide him with a sort of safety blanket, just like the food in his room would give him a feeling of safety, but I hoped that he would never feel more comfortable in a suitcase than in the houses. There should be plenty of room for our small family.

"Good. Now I'm not particular tired today since we took it easy. How would you like to develop some more pictures? We took an awful lot."

With his affirmative and plans to explore the Irp food scene we went to the room we were using as a lab and set up the lab in a box. After our time in Alexandria I had taken to popping out the packets of pictures when we went to a new place. Even though the packs would be considered filled at fifty pictures, I would pop whatever was in there out so that a new place wouldn't wind up in the same pack. I was hoping that would be an easier system than the mess we had worked with before. Especially if Harry wanted to do more from the largest developing tray.

Right now we only had new pictures from the Catacombs of Kom el Shoqafa, Siwa, and the White Desert as I was not taking out the Kharga pictures until we had left the oasis. However, we hadn't been able to finish the packs from before due to our lack of additional ingredients for the developing solution and had plenty to develop from older packs. As they finished developing Harry would very seriously take them to write the date, location, and who was in it on the back of each picture.

The lab and developing trays basically ran themselves and, with Harry busy, I was finally able to start researching the books I had found in Shali Adrár. Yimlul's bookshop had proven a particularly bountiful adventure for all sorts of magics and interests for both Harry and myself. Though, as I wanted to be able to shift the Gringotts team into thinking about horcruxes instead of just a single errant soul leech, I started with the three books on soul magic before making my way through the others. Once I had a reasonable way to prove myself, I could simply vaguely remember that there had been interest in such a thing before the death of the Potters. That I could remember several objects of importance or places that were of interest, and we could begin our own quest to destroy the soul jars as effectively and quickly as possible.

It was a very soothing afternoon in the suitcase. The sound of Harry's quill against the photographs, of the pages of my book when I turned them. Occasionally we would go back to the lab to move things around and gather more of the finished products. But most of the time was spent in a sort of happy, productive quiet. There was no tenseness in Harry as he worked. Neither of us felt the need to fill the silence. It was nice and I hoped that meant we were finally completely comfortable with each other.

_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
ˇ

In the early evening light, Irp seemed both the same as Shali Adrár and radically different. Magical fires glowed in different colors on top of high poles throughout the village and the fields. A colorful glow made all the more inviting by the music and laughter pouring out of every building. It reminded me of the place we had eaten at in Cairo, with tables set up so close to the street that it was more street party than restaurant.

As we walked through the rambunctious people, laughing and eating while they sang along to the music, Harry attempted to look everywhere and see everything with a wide smile on his face. He was holding my hand again. I was glad of it because of the crowds, even though the streets were several times wider than those we were used to back home. That he was willing to constantly initiate this small amount of physical contact was a wonderful sign. Even his nightmares had now decreased to simply being restless.

I had still reached out to Master Clinkscale in my letters about having a therapist available to him, with everything that was going on and was coming up we would perhaps all benefit from a little extra help. I still wasn't sure what someone so young could speak about, but I was willing to give it a try. It had taken quite a few internal battles to get to this point, my feelings on therapy were extremely mixed. But I would never want children to suffer unduly when such a thing could potentially help them. Luckily, with all the safe houses Lily had set up we could have a therapist in a different country without worry and completely under Gringotts contract.

"THERE! THAT ONE!" came a rough shout from my elbow as I was dragged away.

"No need to shout, love," I remarked in surprise as I reigned Harry in. "What is it about this one that makes it so interesting?"

"The sign says they've got a belly dancer!"

Hoping that he didn't mistake my stifled laughter as a negative reaction to his enthusiasm, I let him lead me indoors. In the middle of the restaurant was a large square space for the dancer, all around it were low tables and cushions set slightly higher than the stage. We sat at one as close to the dancing area as we could and stared as the musicians set up along a back wall. There were low ceramic bowls surrounding the square that burned with the same colorful magic fire that we had seen outside and it added a fanciful play of light along the stage.

A young man came to greet us and we ordered a hearty meal. We nibbled on our pita and scooped up meats while we waited for the dancing to start. Musicians started playing after a while and we looked around to see where the dancer might come from.

The woman who took the stage was not the young, nubile barely dressed girl that I was expecting. Instead she was perhaps close to mid thirties and wearing a long gauzy green dress. It had wide bell sleeves that swept behind her and a long tunic down her center that was made of a veil material in russet with a shiny triangle of bronze ornaments. Along her hips, yellow and russet scarves shook with sparkling silver while she moved barefoot to the center of the stage. The fires from the floor reflected in the shimmer of gold around her ankle that matched the golden sequined band wrapped around her dark hair.

A slow tempo picked up from the darbuka and the fluted instruments followed. The woman made her way around the floor twisting and reaching, her hips at a faster tempo than her slow hands. The men began singing in deep long vocals, drums and lutes joining as she danced. The green sparkles along the bottom of her full length skirts were moving with her motions and catching in the magic of the lights around the stage.

One of the men joined her on the stage with his drum, a massive tambourine, and they danced in slow jolting movements. Back and forth, step, twist, a sweeping move that turned them around the length of the stage. Her layered, sparkling skirts flowing around her as they moved.

The tempo changed and the drumming became sharper. She removed the shimmering golden band of cloth from her hair, untwisting it into a straight glittering length that she held in front of her face as she took her small steps back and forth. The men singing in shouts of encouragement. She spun around on her toes with it as the man danced around her. The beat of the drum so sharp it sounded like an apparition cracking. She tossed her golden prop towards one of the musicians as her dancing became as sharp as the drum, before she stole the dancing man's large tambourine to dance with instead and became more graceful.

She spun tight circles on her toes, reminding me of a ballerina, the drum a halo behind her head. When she brought the drum down, she controlled the beat. Each hit to her tambourine resulted in the jerking shake of her hips or shoulders. The flairs of her green sleeves swinging around her, glinting with each twirl. She forced the beat faster and faster, relinquishing her tambourine to one of the men while still spinning. The others drumming so fast it was almost a drum roll. The high strumming of the lute coming through as she spun out of the tight circle and her arms flowed like water as the rest of her stilled to the sounds of cheers from the musicians and the audience.

Harry and I were both too awed by the dance to do much more than clap, our mouths open and our eyes wide. That was not the semi cabaret burlesque show I had been expecting of a belly dance. The Khan El Khalili in Cairo had belly dancing costumes strung up in a multitude of colors in many of the shops, Harry had even commented on it when the bright colors had caught my eye. Those costumes looked nothing like this and I have to wonder if this dance was more traditional, less influenced by the Europeans who might have over sexualized it.

Our neglected food was still warm even though we had been watching the dance for nearly ten minutes. There must be some sort of warming charm embedded into the dishes or table. Neatly scooping up some more of the aromatic flavors on my piece of bread, I smiled at Harry who was remembering the food as well.

After several minutes of scooping up our food and talking about the entertainment, the lanterns hanging from the ceiling darkened. From the cheering of the crowd we assumed that meant that there was an encore performance. This time however a woman's voice sung out a throaty reverberating sound along with the lute and woodwinds.

Two women emerged from the dark, both in skirts with many layers. Around their hips were a fringe and scarves with crystal decorations. The long sleeved cropped tops they wore also had decorations of a diagonal fringe made of beads that reached a point at their navel. One of the women was outfitted in white with clear crystals and a long white veil from her pale fan ended in an electric blue. The other was in a burnt orange outfit with amber and gold crystals and a long yellow veil from her tan fan ended in the same color as her skirts. Other than the colors their costumes were exactly the same.

The magic lights were brighter now with soft blues and reds thrown across the floor. The two women stepped in tight movements onto the stage while their bodies made slow undulating movements. The fans covered their faces and the long veils were over their shoulders as they rolled like waves further onto the floor.

Bending their bodies back and pulling another veiled fan from a hidden place, they moved in sync with each other as the mizmar sung along. In graceful arching steps, their skirts flowing around them, perfectly in time with each other. It seemed like a dance of orange and blue fire.

As they spun, a thin, high-sounding lute was quickly strummed. The twin flames spun faster and faster as they opened and closed the fans while dancing. Moving across the floor, they used the opened fan veils as wings, flaring and floating behind them, and their steps quickened. The flames appeared caught in an invisible wind.

More instruments joined in, more woodwinds and cymbals as the two worked their way back to the center of their stage. From off to the side more women joined them in identical costumes, whites and blues mixing with oranges and golds. Their numbers now up to six, it seemed that the women were dancing with each other while throwing fire back and forth to the other color in an intricate pattern.

They moved around and through each other, their fans popping veils of small flames at different levels. At their hips. At their chests. Over and again until the music sped back up and they moved into new positions. Short steps and waving fans, timed to the motions of their hips and the speed of the music.

They created a circle of their veil flames and with tiny steps turned the circle of fire, the woman's song becoming louder in the music. It looked as if they spun by magic, so quick and deft was their foot work. White and blue flames raised high over head, while the orange and gold were fluttering at hip level.

Parting from the circle so that they were with their own colors, orange and gold on the left with white and blue on the right. They spiraled and danced on one side, skirts and veils flaring around them, and then were mirrored by their partners on the other side of the stage.

Somehow the music seemed even faster as they spun in tighter circles, concealing themselves with fans and veils. Pairing themselves off they closed their fans, tightening their veils into sleek lengths. The percussions of the music hit faster and louder, the thin veils whipping through the air like hot serpents before being opened again to wildly flare their colors. The hips of the six women were moving in time with the percussion, with each hit their hips moved in sync.

They came together again in smooth steps that seemed unreal, to form a long line in the center of the stage. Their fans spreading flame on either side, before spinning out and away from each other. Circling, spinning they danced back into a single line again. Waving their veiled fans while taking small steps to the left or right, creating even greater movement.

The percussion died out as the strings livened the music, the women parting to spin amongst their own colors again. As the music sped up again each yellow and red dancer found a blue and white partner and they spun in to each other. Eventually, their veils thrown up into the air each pair back to back ended the performance with fans touching.

The room exploded with cheers and shouts. Harry and I joined in, clapping encouragement to the marvelous dancers. The ladies bowed and left the stage, the lights going back to their normal glow. We ate the rest of our dinner in stunned amazement. I certainly had never expected something like that for a belly dance performance either.

After enjoying such a lively evening meal we went back to our campsite and packed everything up. We were going to Aswan, but first a short detour to see the Temple of Dush. Barely a thirty minute drive south in the Carriage, Harry and I dozed on our way there. In ancient times the city of Kysis surrounded the temple which is dedicated to Serapis, Isis, and Harpocrates.

It dates back to the Roman Period and was both a religious and military center that was on the route of the caravans crossing the desert. It was a border town strategically placed at the intersection of five desert tracks and was one of the southern gateways to Egypt It was begun by the Roman emperor Domitian and further expanded under Trajan, Hadrian, and Antoninus Pius.

The complex was an odd and interesting place. It reminded me of the mud brick ruins we had seen in the old town of Siwa. This was because it looked though these ruins hadn't simply worn away, but were melted by the elements. There was still interesting inscriptions along interior walls, partial columns and walls dotting the landscape, and arches that remained. But it all seemed as though it was washed away. No color, nothing felt solid.

Once this place was a massive complex, but to my untrained eye it felt like little more than a folly in the desert. Especially compared to the grandness of the Temple of Hibis in the Kharga Oasis, this one seemed to fold in on itself. Perhaps that was because of it's difference in use. The Temple of Hibis was one of festivals and harvest. Where as here it was to make a stand at a vulnerable point in the crossroads.

It was such a contrast to where we had just been.

Harry and I took a few pictures, but both of us decided that was enough for the day and we made our way back to the Carriage. Aswan awaited us.

_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
ˇ

15 February 1985

After our visit to the Temple of Dush, we had arrived in Aswan fairly late in the evening and gone straight to bed. We had a spot at a small campsite until our river cruise started up. The cruise itself would include some tours of Aswan, but Harry and I had plans to visit things not on their itinerary.

Our first stop very early in the morning was the High Dam of Aswan, though as a place of such strategic importance there wasn't really a tour. We had to carefully turn off many of the enchantments and features of the Carriage in order to get through multiple military checks. It wouldn't do for them to catch us on some equipment the enchantments didn't take into account and not see us being checked by the personnel on the dam itself.

The Nile River has always gone through flood and drought seasons. In 1898 a dam was built to help meet the needs of Egypt. This Low Dam was considered an astonishing achievement at the time it was built, but it was kept low due to conservation concerns. In the following decades the dam was raised twice, but still could not meet the growing irrigation needs.

In the 1950s, after a revolution overthrew the monarchy of Egypt, there were plans for a new dam but the problem became funding such an extensive construction. And the funding became more about politics and military might than about the irrigation and electrical needs of the Egyptian people. Between the governments of the UK, the US, and the USSR, and the new Egyptian government that was led by Gamal Abdel Nasser there was a continuous back and forth about how funding for other things might effect how much they were willing to invest in the High Dam.

In the end, Nasser made the bold move to nationalize the Suez Canal Company which was a private company with mostly British and French investors. He planned to use the revenues generated by the canal to help fund construction of the new dam, but it led to significant military conflicts. At the time they called it the Suez War, the UK, France, and Israel seized both the Suez canal and the Sinai. Forty ships were sunk in the canal while it was blocked. The three allies had made the canal useless.

Unfortunately for many of the governments that were involved in this crisis, most of the people in their countries did not support a war over a shipping canal. There were protests in Britain over the invasion, sending in paratroopers and trying to strong-arm the foreign government. Talk shows angrily debated the ridiculous maneuvers. The US threatened seriously damaging the British financial system by selling their government bonds. The USSR supported Nasser in his plans. Between the USSR and the US, as well as pressures elsewhere, the rest of the nations involved were forced to withdraw.

It was a massive loss of face for the British government.

In the end British prime minister Anthony Eden resigned, the Canadian external affairs minister Lester Pearson won the Nobel Peace prize for his work in proposing the creation of an emergency force and the resulting cease fire in the United Nations, those UNEF Peacekeepers then policed the Egyptian and Israeli border, and the whole thing might have influenced the USSR in their relations with Hungary. It was a big deal at the time and it absolutely changed things all over the world.

Then the dam itself had controversies attached to it. Over 1,000 people died during the construction of the High Dam. More than 100,000 Nubians who lived along the banks of the Nile were forced from their homes. And 22 historical monuments were moved to avoid the flooding, though not all could be so systematically broken down and reconstructed elsewhere. Under the waters there are still archeological sites.

It's total cost was 450,000,000 Egyptian Pounds by 1970. Economist say that it recovered that amount by mitigating the effects of the floods in 1964 and 1973 as well as the droughts that started in 1972 and in 1983. It also allowed for electricity to reach outer villages for the first time.

The High Dam of Aswan was not exactly a beautiful temple, but stretching out beside it was Lake Nasser. A glittering blue expanse, the lake was a beautiful jewel of the Nile.

Though we took a few pictures at the dam, the monument had a height that allowed for more impressive photos. It was made to honor the friendship between the governments of Egypt and the USSR and was a great place to see far out across the manmade lake.

"Okay, all set." I turned back to Harry who was on the edge of the circle. We posed for a few photos with the lake in the background, the tripod taking the actual pictures. There weren't many tourists at the monument, but it was the best place to get a picture of us in front of the lake. The sun was just rising in its rosy colors, a golden hour to take our pictures.

"I don't understand," Harry said once we were back in the Carriage. He was reading the little brochure we had picked up on the dam's history and comparing it to pamphlets he snagged about other places in Aswan. "They just picked up the whole place and moved it?"

We were on our way to Abu Simbel, about an hour and a half from Aswan. It was one of the many archaeological sites that had been moved because of the dam.

"Yup. It's much higher up now and won't be affected by any of the flooding."

"But it's a mountain," he remarked, incredulously. "And they weren't using magic right? How do you move a whole mountain without magic?"

"You'd be amazed at all the things that can be done without magic. In this case, I think that they didn't move the entire mountain though. I think they just removed the biggest parts of the exterior and interior before putting them in and around a manmade dome. It's still super impressive though."

His face was scrunched while he thought hard, it was always an adorable thing to see on him.

"They just lifted up a statue that is," he checked his pamphlets, "twenty meters tall and moved it to a higher place?"

"Well, it was a little more complicated than that because they didn't want to break anything beyond repair. Basically they carved it all up like a jigsaw puzzle, moved it to where they wanted it to be, and then put it back together."

"Because they wanted water?"

"Water. Money. Life," I countered. "More control over the water meant that they could have better crops and have a greater amount of area having higher yields in those crops. Then they sell the crops for money. With more control of the water the people were less affected by the droughts and flooding, which would have made them sick and probably destroyed property."

"hMmm, the gifts of the Nile," Harry said in a low murmur.

When we reached the site of Abu Simbel Harry had to be pulled away from his reading with promises that there was plenty of time to read more today. In fact I didn't really have anything planned beyond seeing this site. Our whole time in Aswan was going to be incredibly relaxed and the next day and a half of sightseeing in Aswan would be part of the Nile cruise tour. All we had to do today was make sure to get to our dahabiya on the Nile at the right time this afternoon.

It was only the promise of seeing the massive complex that really got him moving.

With the Carriage parked away we continued up to the Abu Simbel complex. The complex included the well known Great Temple dedicated to Ramses II and the Small Temple which was dedicated to his chief wife Queen Nefertari.

We stood at the water's edge looking up at the impressive statutes of gods sitting along the outside of the Great Temple.

"It's bigger than like all the other ones. It's bigger than a castle."

"I don't know about bigger than a castle, but it is much bigger than all the other statues we've seen I think. Not as tall as the pyramids though."

"Not as tall as the pyramids, but the pyramids didn't have statues."

"That's true. What's better? Bigger with no statues or being just big but having statues?"

"Definitely statues," Harry replied sagely. "The pyramids had cool architecture, but they didn't do more than that really. This is cool architecture and more."

We both nodded our heads in agreement to such a wise statement.

We moseyed back towards the tours sign post, we had paid for a group tour of the site. Standing beside the sign for the tours Harry and I chatted in English with a few couples and a family who were waiting as well. We had spent quite a bit of time doing things on our own and it felt difficult to interact with people after having been in a bit of isolation for so long. Even the few tours we had taken previously, we purposely tried not to interact too much. This was mostly a safety precaution, but on the upcoming cruise we would be in close quarters again with other people and I wanted us to be a little better prepared for social interactions.

"Hello, hello," a voice called to us, "I am Milad and I will be giving the ten o'clock tour of the twin temples."

We all smiled up at the tall man in a galabeya and I took Harry's hand in mine, a little worried he would get separated as we toured the complex.

After he finished counting us, he motioned our way down the path.

"This is the way for the tour. Abu Simbel is the name of this town," he started. A wide well finished path wound its way around hills of sand towards the lake where Harry and I had just been, we ambled down towards it with Milad walking half faced towards the group. "So this town it is called Abu Simbel. Abu means Father and Simbel is the name of the first man who came here in the ancient times. In front of you is the Lake Nasser. Lake Nasser is the biggest manmade lake in all of the world. It's created by the dam, the High Dam in Aswan. So this lake is about 500 kilometer in length, 350 kilometer in Egypt and 150 kilometer in Sudan. This is the best place for fishing in the whole of Egypt, but due to the many, many crocodiles living inside it is forbidden to swim there."

He smiled widely as he motioned jaws closing with his hands. The children laughed a bit. The French speaking family had three children with them, the oldest was twelve and the youngest was Harry's age. They had naturally gravitated towards Harry during the walk, but he kept me close in his shyness.

"There is a Great Temple and there is another one called the Small Temple. The Great Temple, it was built by Ramesses II for himself as a god. So Ramesses he built four statues only for himself in the façade of the Great Temple. And he built another temple near to his temple, but just for his favorite wife, Queen Nefertari."

He paused for a moment and turned towards the group a little more with a mock serious look on his face.

"Queen Nefertari should not be confused with Nefertiti, wife of King Akhenaton. Nefertari was the wife of Ramesses II. She was from Nubia. She was a very, very beautiful woman. And the king loved her so this is the reason he built the Small Temple for her. And Nefertari it means 'the most beautiful lady has come,'" smiling Milad turned back to his walk.

"Ramesses II was married around 68 times. Whoa, he must be lucky. He must be a strong. He had 120 boys and 83 girls. Busy man," he laughed with a shake of his head. "Maybe he's my great great great grandfather, nobody knows."

All of us laughed at the joke, but the adults smirked knowing smiles to each other over the children.

"He ruled Egypt for 67 years. When he died he was 94 and this was unusual in that time."

That was surprising to hear. The average muggle didn't live that long even with all the advances being made in medicine. It made me wonder if he had some magic.

"Our two temples were discovered at the beginning of 19th century, before that time heaps of sand had hidden them from the view. In 1813 a traveler called Ludwig saw a large uh stone faces, they seem to be coming out of the sand. In 1817 the sand was taken away then the temple and the statue appeared – it was discovered by Giovanni Belzoni, he was Italian."

"This is a shortcut," he said. We were on the walkway that went down towards Lake Nasser, but Milad was branched off to the right where a path had been worn into sand and stone by hundreds of feet.

"But why did King Ramesses the Great choose this part of Nubia for such a splendid temple? There are many different reasons, but the most important one it was the gold. More than 80 percent of the gold of ancient Egypt came from this land, from Nubia. So maybe Ramesses he want to catch the Nubian gold in his hands. So the pharaoh's land called Nubia and that's mean the land of the gold," he said as we came around the mound on our beaten path to the expanse of Lake Nasser.

The lake is truly beautiful. A deep blue that shines in the sunlight against the backdrop of Egypt. We begin walking towards it as he continues with the tour.

"Look at the lake," Milad exclaimed as he waved over towards the lake. "This was the old location of the two temples. You know these two temples and the mountain had been moved from the old place. The old place was just down below there, about 200 meters from this location now. And the middle beach of the old place about 65 meters deep under the water."

We reached the walkway again and took a look around. Harry was mesmerized by the massive temple that we had caught a peak of earlier when we explored nearer to the Nile. Closer to the temples now, gave us an even greater understanding of just how massive they were.

"The water of Lake Nasser covered all this area our Egyptian government with UNESCO tried to save our two temples and cut it into big boxes and rebuild it here," Milad made motions with his hands of great big cubes being lifted from the area where the lake was towards where the temples now stand. "I mean this is original temple, but all the mountain behind this is an artificial mountain, man-made mountain. They built a huge concreted dome to carry as the mountains and then they started cut the original mountain from the original place and resulted here."

Gathering us closer, we started walking more towards the temples. "The work takes four years from 1964 until 1968 and it cost about 36 million American dollars."

As we got closer to the Great Temple he explained what we are and are not allowed to do. This is pretty common in historic sites and museums to try and cut down on the wear and tear. Some pigments are very sensitive to these high level lights too, and they also take into account how the use of cameras will disrupt the museum. Luckily my camera works on magic and has been enchanted to not create any disruptions.

"The system here in Abu Simbel is that we cannot do the tour inside, and there is no flash photography. But we will stand out here and I will tell you of the Great Temple."

Milad turned towards the Great Temple and begins, "Okay, look at the façade of the Great Temple. Each statue runs 20 meters high. The second one was destroyed by earthquake it was happening in 27BC. And there is many smaller statues between the leg and under the feet. This representing some of the members of the royal family of Ramesses the Great or royal children. And all the names of these members of royal family, they were written under the feet of the biggest statue in the cartouche."

"But look at the top," he pointed high above us, "at the very top, very tall there are rows of baboons or monkeys. So the monkeys, over there, look at the figure. They are welcoming and greeting the sun every morning. In the middle, above the gate of the temple, the statue of god Ra, the sun god. But here he's considered the leader of the god that's inside the temple. On each side of him we can see Ramesses, he is offering to him."

As he pulled out a rather large album with photos, each the size of whole pages, he encouraged our shorter members to move towards the front.

"When you enter to this temple you are going to see there is two halls of pillars, already inside this is first hall we have eight standing statues representing Ramesses II. They are shown here Osiride pose of the underworld. This is the form of Osiride," he said as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Looks like the mummy, yeah?"

The children copied him for a bit by crossing their arms, getting a few laughs from the adults in the group.

"Behind of the statues from the right and left hand side you're going to see many storage rooms – inside of the storage rooms, it was used to preserve the offering objects. But the whole scene inside the first hall here it's fighting scenes, or military scenes, for the famous battle – it was called Kadesh. It was in Syria between Ramesses II and Hattusili II, king of Syrian people in that time.

"Inside the temple on the left hand side wall you will going to see three fighting scenes. This one, the first one it's very famous. Look," he tapped the picture. "Ramesses is fighting with the chariots and he's pulling his bow and aiming around to the enemy in front."

He held the photo down lower for the children to get a good look at this particular scene.

"Look at this very well we have something strange we have two bows, two arms, and four legs for one horse. It's considered the first animation of movement in all of the world. More actions, maybe this is the Egyptian copy from Walt Disney."

Only weak laughter from the adults greeted this attempt at humor, so Milad tried to move on quickly and flipped to the next photo.

"Another one – Ramesses, he is fighting with two enemies in the same time. He wants to show his power," Milad held up his arm like a body builder to show off his biceps. "After the famous battle have ended Ramesses he returned back home an officer marching before him, his favorite lion is beside him usually and this looks like celebration."

He flipped his album again to the next page.

"The last one for the hall is representing the panorama of the battle. The panorama there is more details, soldiers, chariots, horses, slaves. And the slaves they ask for mercy from the king, Ramesses II. And this document it is very important in our history because it's considered the first peace treaty in all of the world, or peace agreement. Between Ramesses II and Hattusili II."

Milad took a step back, "So listen." He held up his hands with a defeated sigh, as though he had wrestled with this problem forever and never gotten a better answer. "There is no winner in this battle, but our ancient Egyptian document told us, 'Ramesses you are the winner,' of course. And of course the other document with the king of Syria, told us 'Hattusili you are the winner' so we have two big players there is no winner in this battle – this one you're going to see just on the right hand side," he said it with an incredulous smile. It makes me wonder what actually did happen. If they really did both decide they were both the winners, maybe it was because no such thing had ever been done before. In peace everyone wins.

"Inside the Great Temple there is another hall, it's much smaller than the first one. But whole of the scene inside the second wall, just for offering. All the religion scenes. For example on the pillars you can see Ramesses he is offering to the gods."

The next page is turned and he continued.

"As I told you in the beginning Ramesses he was married about 68 times, and he had 120 boys and 83 girls. If he still asked the fertility god to give him children, it would be a surprise to me. So could you show me which one the fertility god here?" he asked as he held out his photo. The children looked at it for a while, none of the adults wanted to interfere. Harry eventually pointed to the correct deity.

"Yes the one with the magic stick, is called Amun Min. He has one leg and one arm. There is the offering table and Ramesses here again, but as a human. We have Ramesses two times. First time represented as a god. Second time represented as a human, different face. This one you're going to see on the right hand side once you get through the gate of the second hall."

It was an interesting piece. He was mortal and immortal. He was human and god. At the same time, in the same space. Rejoicing in both. Perhaps it meant something different, something magical, another thing to look up in our ever growing collection of books.

"Ramesses here he was burning some incense and standing before the sacred boat. Which have been carried on the shoulders of the priests. Ancient Egyptians believed that the sacred boat would carry the gods to the underworld. They also believed the sacred boat would carry the king also to the underworld."

We had seen these boats elsewhere in temples, museums, etc during our journey and it was an interesting tradition. The boats were solar boats and were a part of Ra's mythology. He would ride the boat for the morning to bring the morning light and another to bring the night. Very much like Helios, but instead of a chariot it was a barge. During the night hours, Ra was in the underworld. As the earthly representative of the sun god, the pharaoh would use the same boats to reach the underworld.

"This is the most important part of our temple here. The holy of holies," he said as he excitedly showed us a new photo, "or the sanctuary, four sitting statue carved into the temple. This is Ptah, God of Memphis. Amun Ra, God of Karnak Temple in Luxor. And this one, this king like himself so much, he put himself as a god. Beside Ramesses is Ra the sun god of this temple, you can see him above the entrance. But most important thing here, the light of the sun enter the sanctuary directly through the gate. This happened two times a year, 22nd of February and 22nd of October. On the faces of these three statues only. This one can have no light. Why? Because he is considered the god of darkness. But why all of this happened two times a year? Because the first day his birthday another his coronation day."

I had known that, but decided that it would be more fun to be in the Adriatic than Egypt at the end of our trip.

"When the temple was in the older place it was happening in 21st of February, 21st of October. After moving the temple to the new location here it became late one day. Why? Because they moved the temple up."

After Milad had finished his talk we finally entered the Great Temple. And it is Great with a capital letter "G." Huge and elaborately decorated, this temple is perhaps my favorite stop so far. The pyramids in Giza were monumental, that's true, but this temple felt more like a three thousand year old palace than anything else. I cannot even begin to imagine how someone from Ramesses' time would react to such an impressive build. It might be like showing a video to a caveman.

Harry and I took many discrete pictures along the inside of the temple. When we went to leave, however, we found the three French children speaking in very good English to the man at the door. He was showing them the key that opened the doors to the temple. I was sure that was probably just decorative, but it was interesting and rather pretty.

I nudged Harry to go up with the other children. After a while, they were each given the key to hold, it was nearly as long as little Harry's arm. He turned and took a cautious step towards me before holding the key in front of him, posing for a picture that I quickly took. As he held it, the shape became more obvious. It was an Ankh, a golden Ankh with a key bit at the bottom of the long shaft.

I rather thought I would like to meet the person who decided that would be what opened the temple's door. The Ankh is often translated as "the key of life" or "the key of the Nile" and is a widely recognized symbol, even outside of Egypt. It almost felt like a prank that the key for all life would be used to open the temple for a king that lived an abnormally long life.

We found Milad outside the Great Temple and walked together towards the Small Temple.

"Now we're going to talk about the temple for the queen, Nefertari the favorite wife of Ramesses II. And this one in the same time it's dedicated to goddess Hathor. You know Hathor? The cow goddess. Hathor goddess of music, dancing, love, joy, and fertility. It's a female goddess. There is two form of Hathor. First form like head of women's, another form like cow."

He showed us pictures in his album of the different versions of the goddess Hathor before he stepped closer to the Small Temple and pointing to the large statues in front of it.

"Six standing statues in the side of the temple. Four for Ramesses II and two only for the queen. I think Ramesses he maybe like himself again," he said. There was a bit of weak laughter, this man was not a born comedian.

Milad pointed to the picture of the outside of the temple, "Ramesses, Nefertari, Ramesses, Ramesses, Nefertari, Ramesses…Wow he liked himself more than anyone."

It was easier to see who he was pointing to on the photo he was holding than the statues. I could see a kind of symmetry to the statues as well. Two of the Ramesses guard the outside of the temple walls and the other two have the temple's door between them. Nefertari is protected on both sides by her pharaoh.

"And there are twelve smaller statues between their legs or under their knees, these representing the children between Ramesses and Nefertari. So Nefertari she had twelve children, she's a lucky woman."

That is a lot of children to turn into statues. Just a few hundred years ago in England it would have been difficult for one woman to have so many of her children make it to adulthood. For a woman three thousand years ago to have twelve living children made into statues – seems like a big deal.

"Ramesses II he was so proud by himself he left some hieroglyphic letters outside the this temple he wanted to say, 'I built this temple into the mountain, such work has never been attempted before,'" Milad added with a grin. But, I had to admit, Ramesses should have been proud of himself. The temples were incredible.

"Inside the temple there is only one hall of pillars. Look six square columns seem to support the roof. Whole scene inside this temple just for offering. The front part of each pillar, this is face of women with two small ears for the cow. This is the form of the goddess Hathor," he pointed to one part of the new picture.

"And this is the beautiful lady queen Nefertari," he showed us her image from inside the temple, "She putting the crown of Hathor above her head." The crown was the two horns with a disc between them that is seen often throughout Egypt.

"Now this is the coronation picture from King Ramesses himself," he held out the picture so that everyone could see better.

"Ramesses he's just standing in the middle, Seth and Horus seem to be giving him the crown. So Seth god of evil, Horus god of good. Seth had a jackal head, Horus had a falcon head," he said as he pointed to each of the gods in the photo.

"This is the coronation picture for Queen Nefertari," he showed us the new picture before pointing to the goddesses. "She's standing in the middle between goddess Hathor and the goddess Isis they seem to be giving her also the crown. But let me ask you. How can we know that this is Hathor and this is Isis? Because they are both twins. How can we recognizing them?"

Milad was obviously hopeful that someone in our group would be clever enough to know how one tells apart identical looking goddesses. He was not too disappointed when no one could answer though.

"It is in the cartouche," he said as he tapped the cartouche before he revealed the last photo in his album. "The last one of the Small Temple we can see we can see Hathor in the form of the cow just standing in sacred boat between the lotus flowers. And Nefertari, she's offering flowers to Hathor."

Inside the temple we found the artistry very different. The columns very blocky, with the goddess portrayed on each one. It is still a beautiful work of art. If it is true that he built this out of love of her, it would not surprise me. There is just so much detail.

Harry and I took a few pictures inside the Small Temple before heading out to meet back up with Milad. The tour was over now, but he would be walking us back to the post that we had started from. The French children and their adults had already wandered nearer to the lake while we were inside. Harry very cautiously looked at me. I didn't think I should push him to say the actual words of what he wanted just yet, at least when it came to human interaction. He was getting better, but these were children his age and that made it a slightly new experience.

I gave him a smile and a nudge in their direction and let him run off to play by the edge of the Nile. I absolutely took pictures of those moments.

We had spent hours at the temples in Abu Simbel. It was late afternoon and we decided to make a quick stop for some barbeque mutton before driving back to our campsite in Aswan. After packing up we would need to make our way to the dahabiya for our cruise. Technically, it started tonight with an evening meal on board. The next day we would still be sightseeing in Aswan, but it would be a part of the Nile cruise package.

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Inspiration for the Egyptian baladi was taken from YouTube videos, however links cannot be provided on FFN. Please see this same chapter on AO3 if interested.

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