Note: Last time a few people said the amount of names was confusing and hard to remember, so I'll preface this by saying most don't matter. They're just part of the world building. Who matters will be seen multiple times in the story, so you don't have worry about memorizing everyone.

The School of Alexandria

"Good morning, son," was said in Arabic.

Five year old Harry plopped down in the chair at Charlus' right, something he' done since he was able to seat himself in a chair. This morning he was dressed in Egyptian blue robes. On the left breast of those robes was a white, leaping cat.

"Morning, Uncle Charlie."

Harry looked around for breakfast, but frowned when he only found a small bowl of yogurt with some honey swirled in it. Having spent a good portion of the last six months traveling around South Asia and North Africa, he'd grown accustomed to minty tea and some sort of spicy and/or savory meal to start his day. As such, he looked at Charlus in askance.

"No food?"

Charlus just tapped the bowl of yogurt.

"What are you eating?" Harry asked.

"I've already eaten."

Harry nodded. "What was it?"

"Please, put something on your stomach so you can go."

Harry sighed and ate the yogurt. It wasn't bad. In fact, he enjoyed it, but, all things considered, it was pretty plain and left much to be desired. Thus it was no surprise that when he finished it, he turned to Charlus in expectation.

"I'm not full."

"But your fast has been broken enough," Charlus said as he got to his feet. "Come."

Harry followed him to the hallway where he found his sandals and backpack.

"Your trainers and gym clothes are inside the bag," Charlus said. "Let's go."

He'd spent the majority of the past two years living in Greece with Charlus. That summer, however, they'd moved into a two story, cream-colored villa in Cairo. It had pointed, arched windows with protruding window frames that had blue, mosaic patterns. The pattern was also painted along the pointed arch of the doors.

Once beyond the gate, Charlus held out his hand. Harry clutched it and held on even as Charlus twisted away. While he suspected he'd always hate the compressing sensation of apparation, he grew less dramatic every time he did it.

"Here it is," Charlus said.

The Mouseion of Alexandria was a magnificent institution that overlooked the blue-green waters of the Mediterranean. It was longer than it was tall, but it wasn't without height either. It had been erected along the coast and, as far as Harry could see, one could step out from various exit points and walk onto and along the beach.

Harry gaped at the tall, high relief sculptures; sphinxes attached to even taller pylons.

Charlus squeezed his hand. "Come on."

Harry was led through the slender, rectangular opening. They didn't go up the steps to the classical structure in the center, though, which Harry knew to be the Library of Alexandria. His interviewer had taken him their as part of his tour. In the present, a guard pointed to his right and Charlus veered off with an appreciative nod to the man.

They arrived at another classical structure and though it was smaller than the other buildings, it was still large. A statue of Thoth was on one side of the door and a statue of Bes was on the other side.

"Good morning," a woman greeted in Arabic when they entered. She looked at Harry's name tag. "Messrs. Potter. I'm Mrs. Malak."

Harry waved. "Good morning, Mrs. Malak."

"Tomorrow morning, you may arrive through one of those fireplaces and you may leave byway of one this afternoon," she said pointing down the hall to an open door. To Harry she said, "'The School of Alexandria, ground floor.'" She then pointed to another set of double doors. "Every morning you will arrive and enter that room where you will join your peers for meditation. After twenty minutes, you will eat then begin your lessons."

Harry nodded. "Thank you."

Charlus then led him to the door, but pulled him to the side. "The most useful thing I learned from Henry about magic was that a clear, relaxed mind was the best weapon a wizard could have, so, you know, try in there." He kissed Harry's cheek. "Enjoy your day."

Harry frowned at him. "Lucky you there's no one else in here."

Charlus rolled his eyes and opened the door.

"See you later, Uncle Charlie," Harry said.

Another boy slid in before Charlus closed the door. He had braids and his dark skin was smooth. He also had a handsome, symmetrical face with sharp cheekbones that looked as if they could slice through steel.

"Mr. Jalali. You're late," Charlus said.

The boy looked at Charlus and his eyes widened. Charlus just winked and closed the door.

'Jalali' looked at Harry. He looked Harry up and down before holding out his hand. "Cyrus, Potter."

Harry shook the hand. "Harry."

Cyrus grinned, flashing white teeth. "That's really your name?"

"Yes."

"Excellent."

Harry had no idea why Jalali was so happy about the name, beyond the usual, of course. He was used to adults finding his name hilarious. Kids, on the other hand, were always either shocked or hostile.

The two moved away from the door when it opened again. Together, they stepped further into the room, which was long with arching windows and red carpeting. The white walls had several, colorful depictions of Shu. Students sat on multi-colored mats facing a barefoot man, who walked back and forth correcting their posture.

"Grab a mat from a cupboard, place your shoes inside, and join us on the floor," the man said as the door opened.

Harry and Cyrus grabbed their mats then sat next to each other on the floor near the back. The man came over to correct their postures, too.

"I'm Mr. Abadi. Tomorrow you will arrive before eight thirty or you will find the door locked," he said before correcting the posture. "Here and now the goal is peace and clarity. You will learn how to calm yourselves, so that your mind may be clear of the stress and burdens you left at home; so that you are more attentive and alert in class. Years from now you may see other benefits. Today, however, our concerns are peace of mind and clarity for the benefit of concentration. Now close your eyes. Take a breath. Breath in…"

Harry closed his eyes and inhaled. The room smelled of green tea, he noticed. Smoky green tea.

"And out. In…out."

He didn't hear him, but Mr. Abadi walked away for his voice became more distant.

"Focus on your breathing. When your mind wanders forgive yourself and return to your breathing."

He couldn't say his mind didn't wander. In fact, it felt like every few seconds he was forcing his mind back onto his breathing. He didn't know what it was helping or improving, but he tried his best.

When their twenty minutes were up, there was a dinging noise. He opened his eyes then, for some reason, grinned.

"Interesting that your peace of mind displays itself in your teeth, Mr. Potter," Mr. Abadi said.

Those in their vicinity looked at him and Harry rolled his eyes.

"Thanks."

Mr. Abadi smirked. "My pleasure, young Potter."

After meditation, he sat next to Cyrus for breakfast where they ate shakshuka. He'd had it before at home and it had become an instant favorite. He ate it with pita and downed it with cold karkade.

The Dining Hall was a charming space without glass in the windows. Murals of Hesat were along the walls and a statue of a large cow was against the wall opposite the doors. Round tables full of food and drink went around the room

"I'm from Tehran," Cyrus said. "I live there mostly. Sometimes I stay in France with my mother's family for months at a time."

"Corfu," Harry said. He shrugged. "I think I'm supposed to say London, though."

After breakfast, they went to a classroom together and sat down. The classroom was dimly lit with most of the light seeping in through the windows, which, again, had no glass in them. They sat next to each other on the rug at the front of the room. Two other kids – girls – joined them.

One, with black hair and bright blue eyes, introduced herself as, "Rebecca Daveed."

"Zarina Azar," was the other girl. She was olive-skinned with long, brown hair and dark eyes.

Cyrus had sat up at her name. She'd wrinkled her nose at his and Harry could tell he was a little hurt. He, on the other hand, was amused.

"That doesn't bother you?" Cyrus asked Harry.

"I don't know who they are and my Uncle Charlie says anyone who scoffs at Potter isn't worth my notice."

Cyrus smiled a bit. "Azar is an old family in Iran. I don't know Daveed either, though."

The door opened again. In walked a woman he'd seen during his interview. She was a beautiful woman with long, dark brown hair and hazel eyes. Her Greek nose was situated on an oblong face and above full lips. She was on the tall side, too, with a toned, olive-skinned body.

Cyrus stiffened at the sight of her armband. It was purple with an interesting looking, golden triangle in the center and Harry knew it to be Dumbledore and Grindelwald's symbol. In that moment, Harry began to connect the dots. 'Jalali' had to have been a friend of Henry's.

"Good morning, I am Miss Alexandra Thanos," she greeted. "Wonderful to see you beat me here," she drawled. "Forgive me," she said. "For the rest of the year, I promise to be here to greet you."

She pulled out a parchment then read off the four names. She held Harry's eye and he found a glint in hers when she called his name. The glint was familiar. He'd seen it in the eye of Mr. Crouch, Mrs. Bagshot, and even in his interviewer's eyes. At the sight of the familiar look, he relaxed.

"Fantastic," she said as she placed the parchment back in her pocket. With an elegance Harry had only seen Euphemia have, she conjured a chair. "I suppose it's apt to say I'm your Hellenic Philosophy teacher." Miss Thanos summoned a book, but she didn't open it immediately. "We will begin with eudaimonia. Say that with me."

They repeated it and then said it individually.

She nodded. "It basically means 'good spirit.' That you have led a good life, but 'good' has a specific meaning. 'Good' does not refer to a quality of life. 'Good' here means righteous. Every act you have committed has been 'good.'"

"That's hard," Harry said.

Miss Thanos nodded. "Indeed, but virtue was a core part of Ancient Greek philosophy. They believed that when given a set of choices one should always make the right decision even if it brought you personal pain and dissatisfaction."

Harry made a face. "But I'm not supposed to make others feel pain and dissatisfaction?"

"It's impossible to please everyone," Miss Thanos said.

Harry grinned at her. "So if I focus on the – ahem – greater good, that would be best?"

"Yes," she drawled. "Your joys and pleasures may align with that of the few, but if the deeds are harmful to greater society than your deed isn't good."

Cyrus was frowning at her.

Harry, on the hand, tilted his head. He didn't think she was preaching Grindelwald's philosophy to him. In fact, Harry would say she sounded a lot like Miss Jones. He suspected she had a soft spot for her own muggle or muggleborn parent. However, the other parent obviously hadn't denied her much. No, this woman dressed well and held herself like Euphemia.

She picked up the book and read a story about Georgios of Corinth. He'd been a selfish man who'd only been about himself. When Athens had attacked Corinth, he'd fled, leaving his family behind. When he died, he'd gone to Tartarus.

"Now," she said, "as far as magic goes, wizards don't have 'eternal damnation.' We do, however, have souls. It is long believed that the worst of us are denied the chance to return as ghosts or to see our loved ones after our soul leaves the Earth. That is to say, on the days when the veil is thin, they cannot get close to them and, should they call, they cannot answer."

She read them poem and another short story and they discussed each book. Words like honor and respect were mentioned frequently. At the half hour mark, they were allowed a break. When they returned, she had them act out scenarios, which was a lot like his time at nursery.

Harry's first one was of him being a poor Athenian who had saved up enough money for a special meal for himself and his wife. Azar had been an even poorer Athenian; a beggar.

Thanos gave Harry a choice. "You can let her starve or not."

Harry sighed. "I'll buy you something to eat."

He wouldn't have his lamb dinner, but everyone would eat.

"That was fun," Cyrus said begrudgingly.

Mr. Hbnj, who was their math teacher, joined them just before Thanos left the room. He was a dark-skinned, black man with a round face and rounder lips.

"Arithmancy isn't important to learning magic, but it does enhance the understanding of it," Mr. Hbnj said in Arabic. "If you asked someone why they needed a certain number of a specific ingredient in a specific potion they couldn't tell you why, but they can likely tell you what the ingredient does. Unfortunately, you won't be learning arithmancy with me," he finished with a grin.

Harry frowned. "Way to work me up."

"But now you will take arithmancy at Hogwarts, Almalja, and Uagadou or wherever you end up," Mr. Hbnj said with a smile. "Today, you and I will be discussing basic numbers: of course we will begin with zero through three."

This hour was spent much like his time at The Olive Tree and Mrs. Bagshot's house. They learned the words of each number then grew familiar with the image of them. They were allowed to color in each number then Mr. Hbnj showed them the value of each. He then gave them blocks. Each number was placed on the table and they had to put the number of blocks with the corresponding image.

"Excellent," Mr. Hbnj said. He waved his wand and all the items on their tables disappeared. "Art time."

Their group swelled to ten for art. The room was multicolored with student decorated walls. Mr. Parisi had them sit at small tables of two. They then had to sit still as he made just about every item in the room completely red. It was a glaring, vibrant red; true red in all its glory.

When five minutes was up, he asked, "How do you feel?"

"Annoyed," Harry said.

That was the general consensus.

Then he turned the room bright white and allowed them to move around. Harry's initial relief turned into annoyance once more. He couldn't understand it.

Mr. Parisi turned the room green and made them sit. "Today, we will learn the beginnings of color theory. You may ask yourself why you should care. At some point you will learn just how color affects the mind and how they can be used to your advantage. We will begin with primary colors: red!"

Fifteen minutes before class ended, they were allowed up mix the primary colors on throwaway paper. Harry had lots of blue, green, and yellow on his.

After lunch he, and three others, had Greek language class with Miss Economedes. In that hour, they went over the Greek alphabet and numbers one to ten. He also demonstrated that he could write his whole name. After, she started them on numbers eleven, twelve, and then.

His last hour was spent beneath the school and/or outside. Physical activity was just as important as everything else.

Harry ended up downstairs in a patted room that smelled of feet. He was tossed a sword and shield. Harry was poked and jabbed in his sides and abdomen and ended up on his back a dozen times.

"You're tiny, Potter," Mr. Salah said. "Come back when you're big enough not to waste my time."

Harry shook his head. "You're not going to help me?" He had watched him help other students before engaging in the sport.

"You?"

Harry frowned. "Huh?"

Mr. Salah stepped closer. "Not everyone on this side of the world believes your great-grandfather is a god."

Harry rolled his eyes and wanted to throw his head back. He did not know Henry Potter and never would.

"Go," Mr. Salah commanded.

So he went, wondering just what his grandfathers and/or cousins had done to make this man still seethe forty years later.

He ended up outside where found a blue track beyond the stands. Seeing a few people running it, he decided to join.

One lap.

Two laps.

Three laps.

He kept his pace and stopped after the third lap for he felt a stitch in his side.

However, Miss Thanos was outside now. She had been there since his second lap. "One more and keep your pace."

Harry, who was holding his sides, looked at her in disbelief.

"Go."

He ran the extra lap. When he finished she met him with a bottle of water.

"Fast," she said. "I want you to do that everyday. That fourth lap and keep your pace. If you don't, I'll know." She then pointed to a set of doors. "A shower is through there."

It was the oddest shower he ever took. First it was timed. Fifteen minutes. Second the water was steaming hot. Not boiling, but it took some adjusting to. The soap smelled of roses and peppermint and Harry found he enjoyed it. He also felt he was finished around the six minute mark. That's when he noticed the temperature of the water had dropped. Around the ten minute mark, it was freezing. However, the water was warm when he finished.

When he finished he found the shelf, which contained a towel, cream, and scented oils, to be glowing. When all was said and done he left the shower rooms smelling delightfully like peppermint and rose. He would just have to remember to use less oil in the future.

Once back at the school, Cyrus and Harry took their leave of each other. Harry was content in the knowledge he'd made a friend all on his own while flooing home.

"Afternoon," Charlus said when arrived. He inhaled. "You smell good."

"Thanks."

Charlus pulled out a parchment, quill, and ink. "What questions crossed your mind today?"

"Why green tea for meditation?"

Charlus nodded. "That's a good one. Anything else?"

"I'd like to know about colors more," Harry answered.

Charlus nodded. "What else?"

"Who's Jalali?"

"Ah," Charlus said. "Fatin Jalali was a wealthy Iranian Henry met while studying at Alexandria and they became friends. He did in East Africa and the Middle East what Henry did in Europe. Unfortunately, he had traitors in his camp who killed him." He snorted. "It's how Henry found myself alone in Greece."

Harry blinked. "He wasn't in England when he lost?"

"No, shit would be a lot different if he had been," Charlus said. "Ah, well, we're not done yet. Did you enjoy your day?"

Harry nodded.

"Alright then. You may go enjoy the rest of it if you wish, but change your clothes first."

On Tuesday, Harry met Mrs. Hadid. She was their Arabic teacher and she built on his understanding of the language by working on phonetics and showing him common words in the languages.

He also met Mr. Anwer, a brown man with a long face and a buzz-cut that Tuesday. They sat on a mat in a semi-circle facing him in s room was mostly plain. However, depictions of Ma'at, Athena, Apollo, and Thoth were on the walls.

"I enjoy teaching the youngest children," Mr. Anwer said in Arabic. "You're so nasty."

"Huh?" Cyrus said.

Mr. Anwer wrinkled his nose as if to emphasize the point. "Nasty. You're on the cusp of learning the manners of polite society, but you still make so many faux pas. Sometimes you cough with your mouth open. Some of you don't know how to chew properly. You're very messy as you often still miss your mouths. Some of you are, thus far, in a life long battle against the bath tub and the soap and water it contains. Yuck."

Harry laughed softly. He sounded like Euphemia.

"But I'm here to assist your parents the best way I know how," Mr. Anwer said. "I'm going to make you bathe."

Azar giggled.

With that, they began discussing the history of bathing and the Egyptian belief in it in particular. After their break they began a study on water, its importance, and the symbolism of it.

After class, he said, "I've sent letters to your parents or guardians. As you cannot yet write for yourselves, they're going to document your feelings on washing everyday, multiple times a day. You're going to wash in the mornings and in the evenings. And by wash, I mean bathe. You're also going to wash, at least, your hands before every meal. The Egyptians were fond of washing their entire torsos and arms before every meal as well, but, for now, that is your choice."

Azar waved her hand. "What does this have to do with magic?"

"At the moment, I'm teaching you how to be well-rounded, good, hygienic individuals. However, I hope within the next three years you will be able to tell me the importance of cleanliness in the context of magical theory."

Later that day, he had the equivalent of a science class with Miss Kaya. She told them a little about the Milky Way and the solar system before zeroing in on the sun. They got to draw pictures it, told each other their favorite moments in the sun, what they liked about the star. Fifteen minutes before class ended, she read them a story about Ra, the Egyptian sun god.

Their last class that Tuesday before Gymnasium was Music. It wasn't much different from his first weeks in nursery. They listened to different tempos and told each other how it made them feel.

His last new classes were introduced on Wednesday. They had Geography followed by Greek. Just before lunch, he had Ancient History with Mr. Erling. Mr. Erling was an aged Dane who unnerved Harry by staring at him through cool, electric blue eyes.

His last class he was introduced to was Theater with Miss Bardhi.

"Oratory skills were prized in the ancient world. The ability to convey your thoughts succinctly, eloquently, and, above all else, well remains a marker of intelligence. As with many former kittens, there are future politicians and professors in this room and your journey to becoming a well spoken one begins in this class." She looked at each of them with Harry being the only to meet and hold her gaze. "One by one you will come up here and introduce yourselves for thirty seconds." She pointed at Harry. "You first."

This wasn't filler. I promise.

Thanks for reading!