It was highly unlikely that Ron and Harry would find themselves arriving anywhere earlier than Hermione. However, on this particular morning, that is precisely what happened. Harry paced back and forth in front of the revolving door leading to the street, pausing to dodge guests on their way in and out of the hotel and occasionally checking his wristwatch. "Do you think I should go up and check on them?" He looked over at Ron who was sitting on the lobby couch with one leg crossed over the other reading the newspaper.

He looked up vacantly. "What's that?" Seeing the preoccupied look on Harry's face, he added, "Oh, no. I'm sure they'll be down. You know 'Mione. She's never late to anything."

Harry nodded as he checked his wristwatch again.

She wasn't late per se. Not yet, anyway. But she wasn't her obscenely early self and that was indeed cause for concern. He had considered that she may have overslept, however, Hermione was always diligent about setting an alarm. Perhaps she had gotten the meeting time wrong? He had hollered it down the hallway after all, but he was certain she'd given him a thumbs-up. Or did something sinister happen to her after they'd parted ways? When Harry contemplated that scenario, he inwardly cursed himself for not taking the appropriate measures to ensure she made it into her room safely. That particular thought propelled him toward the lifts, before pausing to turn back toward Ron.

"I'm just going to have a quick look. Be back down in a minute."

When Ron absently looked up from the paper and nodded, Harry rounded the corner of the hallway leading to the lift, once again checking his watch. Merlin, if something happened to her, he'd never forgive himself.

Just as he pressed the button to indicate his ascent, the lift chimed with a piercing ding, opening to reveal Hermione and Malfoy casually standing there with coffee in hand.

"Oh, Harry," she said brightly, stopping to reach out her hand to prevent the door from closing. "Are you heading back up?"

He looked with intrigue from Hermione to Malfoy and back, noting how seemingly well-rested they appeared given the undeniably exhaustive effects of international Portkey travel. He and Ron were positively knackered even after their full night's sleep. "Oh, uh- no, just wasn't sure if there was a mix-up with the time seeing as I didn't see you in the lobby. You're always more punctual than Ron and me," he muttered, suddenly feeling uncomfortable with the awkward exchange.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," she said, stepping forward out of the lift with Malfoy only a pace behind. "Hope you haven't been here too long."

Harry pivoted to follow, doing a light skip to catch up. "No, not long. Ron's actually over there reading the paper. We should still be fine."

Hermione paused her stride at a marble counter where a host of bakery items were lain out along with juices, coffee, water, and tea marked complimentary for hotel guests. Malfoy stopped alongside her, reaching over to grab a plate and placing several small pastries upon it before handing it to her.

"Oh, thank you," she said, startled by the gesture.

Not once in all the years of knowing Harry and Ron had they ever attempted this level of chivalry. It felt notably good to know there were still gentlemen left in the world.

She accepted the plate from Draco with a gracious smile and walked over to where Ron was seated, settling into a chair across from him and placing her coffee on an end table. When he looked up from the paper, she had just taken her first bite of blueberry muffin.

"Morning," he said gruffly as if it was a chore to greet her.

In no mood for his antics, she simply nodded in reply, glancing across to where Harry and Malfoy were striding over to the lounge while engaged in a rather lively exchange. Hermione regarded the seemingly easy banter between them, watching as a smile spread across Harry's face at something Malfoy had said.

"I would have given anything to see the look on Krum's face when Zaghloul caught the snitch."

"From what I've heard from others in the department, it wasn't pretty," Draco said. "Myers told me he saw Krum crying into his Quidditch robes as he walked back to the locker room. Can you imagine?"

Harry snorted, his eyes alight with mirth. It was the catch heard around the world when Bulgaria lost the World Cup to Egypt when their seeker- a female- caught the golden snitch right from under Victor Krum's nose.

"Hey, didn't you used to date Krum?" Malfoy asked as he dropped into the chair beside Hermione.

"What?" she choked out, looking over at him with eyebrows drawn and a fierce blush creeping up her neck.

Her eyes snapped over to Harry and Ron when she heard them both snickering, causing her defensive frown to deepen.

"Laugh all you want. Victor was a complete gentleman when we went to the Yule Ball together. Which is more than I can say for either of you." She glanced back at Malfoy. "I would hardly call it dating, but yes, Victor and I became quite close while he was at Hogwarts. In fact, we're still friends."

Draco inclined his head with interest. "Really? And what is ol' Victor up to these days?"

"He's writing a book- his memoir. And when he's not doing that, he's a Quidditch sports commentator," she supplied matter-of-factly.

"Is that so?" he asked, looking with intrigue over the rim of his coffee mug. "I just so happen to be looking for a sports commentator for the upcoming match between French National and the Cannons."

"Well, if you'd like, I can put you in touch with hi-"

"The Chudley Cannons?" Ron piped in, suddenly interested in the conversation. He hastily lowered the newspaper and sat comically upright in his chair.

Draco gave a muffled snort as if to say what other Cannons team do you know of, but thought better of it with the feel of Hermione's eyes pressed to the side of his head. "Yes, the Chudley Cannons," he said, setting down his coffee cup next to hers. He looked curiously from Harry to Ron. "When I'm not here solving the world's problems with you three, I actually work in the Magical Games and Sports department. I'm the Quidditch Liaison," he added, which caused Ron's eyes to widen. Apparently, Harry and Hermione had neglected to tell him that little tidbit of information.

"So, do you get tickets to all the Quidditch matches then?" Ron blurted out, not even attempting to be a bit discreet about his desire to get his hands on passes to see the Chudley Cannons play French National.

"Not all of them, but a fair few, yes."

Ron raked a bumbling hand through his scarlet hair. "Well, if you ever find yourself with extra tickets for the Cannons, feel free to send them my way."

Hermione looked like she'd swallowed something sour when she heard her friend, who mere hours ago didn't even want to share a hotel corridor with the wizard across from him, put up a front of amiable camaraderie just to freeload Quidditch tickets from him. Draco seemed to share the same sentiment as he only offered a muffled, "Of course," before tucking into his plate of sweets.

"I'm sure Victor would be a good fit for the match-up between the two," Hermione added, more to alleviate the strained silence that settled into the air following Ron's shameless request. "Would you like for me to tell him you plan to reach out?"

Draco paused his chewing before swallowing hard. "Sure, although it may not be until after I'm able to address a few personal matters."

Hermione stiffened, realizing the personal matters to which he referred was the signing of his marriage contract to the French floozy.

She tried and failed to extinguish the twisting in her chest, instead opting to surreptitiously check her wristwatch announcing it was time for them to head over to meet the Egyptian Minister.

Draco stuffed one last mini muffin into his mouth before rising to his feet.

"I'll take that," he said, reaching down to grab her empty plate.

"Oh, thank you." She peered up at his towering form, noting how his perfectly pressed attire did nothing to mask what lingered beneath the scant layers of fabric.

Following the morning's latest misfortune of eyeing Malfoy through the conjoined doorway wearing nothing but a loose towel hanging enticingly low over his overtly-toned waist while rivulets of water dripped painstakingly slow down his chest left her understandably flustered. Even more unfortunate was her eyes' blatant refusal to look away, choosing instead to linger for just long enough to be caught by Malfoy in his peripheral. He was kind enough not to bring it up later but the side-eyed smirk he flashed her was just enough to throw her off-kilter for the remainder of the morning.

Truth be told, it was the sole reason why they'd arrived so late to the lobby. Following the troubling incident, her brain had devolved into an inoperative three-pound mass, rendering her completely useless as she scrambled to ready herself for the day.

She grew visibly flushed at the recollection causing Draco to ask if everything was alright as he expertly balanced her plate and coffee cup. "Yes, I'm fine," she said, running her hands over her slacks to brush any errant crumbs from her lap, looking anywhere but at him.

Her annoyance with the effect he had on her was growing and it showed as she tossed her beaded bag across her shoulder and rose to stand, sidestepping where he stood before marching across the lobby.

With every pointed glance or kind gesture he offered up, she felt herself drawing perilously close to falling for him- hard- and that just wouldn't bode well for the indisputable endgame.

Ron and Harry studied her retreat before glancing back at Malfoy with bewilderment.

"What's gotten into her?" Ron asked, tossing the newspaper onto the coffee table while sluggishly rising to his feet.

"No idea," Malfoy replied while heading toward the rubbish bin. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that Granger was perched in front of the revolving door with her arms folded and her face knotted with irritation.

"Women," Ron muttered under his breath. "I'll never understand them."

"Are you sure everything is ok?" Draco asked again as he came to a halt beside her.

"Of course. Why wouldn't it be?" Her discomfort with his proximity ignited her already frazzled nerves so she busied her eyes by glancing down once again at her watch. "We should go. We don't want to keep Minister Hegazy waiting."

As Harry and Ron approached, Hermione turned away from Malfoy, hastening through the revolving door out onto the bustling street in front of their hotel.

The balmy air hung in stark contrast to the crisp breezes of London, a hint of dryness hovering in the air as an unpleasant harbinger of the forthcoming heatwave. Hermione bristled at the thought of what that would mean for her already unruly curls.

Leaving Malfoy and Ron in his wake, Harry jogged ahead to meet Hermione stride for stride. "You don't have to walk so fast, 'Mione. We're not going to be late."

"I know," she said, stopping where the sidewalk met the street and watching as the parade of commuting cars zoomed past. She glanced up at the imposing buildings lining the Alexandrian streets and noted how different the city was from the portrayal in her history books. Granted the depictions were from thousands of years ago, but the contrast was still enough to give her pause. "Which way from here?" she asked, just as Harry had opened his mouth to direct her to cross the street.

"The entrance is past that building on the left, down the alleyway off of Omar Lotfy."

She nodded her head absently before forging forward across the lane of cars stopped at the traffic signal. Harry glanced backward to ensure Ron and Malfoy were not far behind, surprised to see they were engaged in idle chatter, presumably about Quidditch if Harry had to place his bet on it.

"Hermione, is there any reason why you appear to be hellbent on leaving Ron and Malfoy in the dust? I mean, shouldn't we all be arriving together?"

"What? Oh." She glimpsed behind them, feigning ignorance to their negligible distance. "They'll catch up when we get to the entry point." She continued to scurry past the throngs of morning commuters who were dipping and diving along the sidewalk rushing toward their destinations.

"'Mione, wait up," Harry bellowed, slightly out of breath as Hermione walked straight past the turn to the hidden entrance to wizarding Alexandria. "It's back there." He motioned with his hand down the narrow alleyway as she skidded to a halt, pivoting to retreat back to where Harry stood. Unfortunately for her, she arrived just as Ron and Malfoy edged forward from the opposite direction, bringing her face to face with the wizard she was doing her very best to avoid.

"You're in quite the hurry this morning." Malfoy's droll voice rang out above the din of the chaotic city streets.

She avoided his eyes, offering up nothing in defense, only pivoting to follow Harry as he guided them down the dimly-lit cobbled pathway toward the Fountain of Fey, the stone well that would lead them to the Egyptian Ministry.

Hermione glanced around with intrigue as the morning sun poured in from the meager break in between buildings. She could just make out the glimmer of the graying structure, feeble from age, several paces ahead when she heard Malfoy clear his throat behind her.

"Anyone know how we get past the fey?" he asked as they came to a stop at the foot of the tall basin.

Seven carved fey of varying shapes and sizes stood entwined above the fountain's foundation, the well having long since gone bone dry, leaving microscopic cracks that spread like a spider's web into antiquity across the surface. The vacant alabaster eyes of the weathered creatures were a clouded window into the past with their milky stares.

"Um, yeah," Harry replied, glancing upward to methodically examine the timeworn edifice. "Help me find the male carrying the Book of Knowledge. Kingsley said he's wearing a schenti."

"It would help if we knew what a bloody schenti is," Malfoy barked from behind where Hermione stood, his body emanating a searing heat against her back causing annoyance to once again well up inside her.

"A schenti is the name for an Egyptian skirt worn by men," she pronounced without missing a beat. "And it looks as though the man in question is right there." She pointed confidently to the rear of the carving just past a female fairy with wings. A rather tall, whimsical being with a crown of figs cut in wispy patterns stood hidden behind the others. His unhinged grin chased an ominous chill up Hermione's spine.

"So, what do we do when we find it?" Ron asked, stepping forward to angle his head around the back of the basin to get a better look.

Harry ran a fidgeting hand with visible discomfort through his tousled hair. "That's the thing. We uh- we- grab its arse."

"Sod off, Potter!" Malfoy snapped, taking a step back and looking at him with incredulity. "Quit fucking around and tell us how to get-"

"No," Harry interrupted, choking back his laughter. "I'm serious. Kingsley said the Egyptians had a bit of a twisted sense of humor. And if we want this wall to open behind the fountain then we need to uh- grab this guy's posterior."

"I'm not going anywhere near that twat's arse. Besides, you or Weasley here are much better suited to be running your hands over another man's bum."

Hermione failed to stifle her laughter as she turned around to face him. "Merlin, Malfoy- it's a statue. You're acting like if you touch it it will somehow diminish your manhood."

He glared down at her with a challenging glint in his eye. "Why are you suddenly so keen on the subject of my manhood?"

Hermione flushed. "That's not what I meant and you know it."

"Would you two stop bickering!" Ron mumbled, stepping around the quarreling pair whose eyes had yet to leave each other's fomenting stares. "I don't see what's so hard about grabbing a handful of petrified rock." He reached underneath the meager stone schenti covering just far enough to feel the fay's arse cheek within his grasp and gave it a firm squeeze as Harry stood behind him chuckling into his sleeve.

As he withdrew his arm, the pale brick wall in front of them methodically broke apart at the center, each block rotating outward to widen the divide. Hearing the low rumbling sound of the grinding bricks, Draco and Hermione's eyes finally tore away from each other long enough to watch the last several slabs fall into place revealing a world beyond that was anything but like the one in Diagon Alley.

Where Diagon's buildings were lopsided and unassuming, Alexandria's were finely chiseled and polished, with closely spaced columns that stretched far beyond the cerulean blue sky.

As they proceeded through the opening onto a mudbrick road, Hermione marveled at the brilliant hieroglyphic carvings peppered across the buildings' facades. Pictorial frescoes of lotus flowers and papyrus plants in dazzling colors trailed along the multi-faceted cylinders.

It would have taken an entire lifetime to discern each individual demarcation but the images as a whole were so stunning that not much was lost with the lack of attempt.

The three wizards alongside her absorbed the grandeur with reverence as their pacing slowed almost to a halt.

As her eyes flit over to a small grove of trees surrounding an ornamental pool filled with water-lilies, they caught on a massive stone structure just beyond, where a crowd of witches and wizards were gathered shoulder to shoulder, floundering against each other like a raging sea.

The brash noise from the commotion trailed across the desolate courtyard piquing her curiosity and causing her eyes to narrow with intrigue.

She could just make out the faint outline of the Egyptian Ministry emblem carved onto the building's smooth granite veneer.

She nudged Harry with her elbow pointing across toward the melee. "Hey, I think that's where we need to go."

"Over there?" he asked, brows furrowing. "What are all those people doing crowded around the entrance?"

"There's only one way to find out," Draco piped in, brushing past them to investigate.

The trio scurried to keep pace with Malfoy's longer stride, all the while transfixed on the growing ruckus outside the Ministry building.

As they neared, the muffled outcries became more decipherable and Hermione could have sworn she heard someone yell, "He's dead!"

Her eyes darted over to Malfoy's in a panicked exchange which told her he'd heard the same proclamation.

As she worked to process the volley of pained shrieks and hollers, they were instantly swallowed up by the undercurrent of bodies trying to edge their way to the front.

Sensing impending separation, Draco reached over and gripped Hermione's hand in his just as she looped her arm through Harry's. She looked over to see that Harry too had latched onto Ron as they were mercilessly knocked back and forth to a rhythm of distressed wails.

"Noooo! It can't be!"

"He was murdered!"

Suddenly seeming to realize the magnitude of the situation, Harry leaned forward and asked a grief-stricken woman who was caught between garbled moans, "Excuse me- ma'am- excuse me, who was murdered?"

She turned around to face him, cavernous lines of dread etched across her face. "The Minister! The Minister's dead!" she wailed, covering her mouth with a handkerchief to stifle her sobs.

"What?" the thoroughly stunned trio asked in unison, eyes widening in horror.

Hermione tugged the woman firmly by the sleeve to regain her attention. "Ma'am, I'm sorry- but can you tell me what happened?"

The disconsolate witch could barely catch her breath long enough to answer, her eyes red and worn from the force of unrelenting tears. "No one will say. But there have been whispers of a prophesy for many years now and it seems with the Minister's death it has finally come to fruition."

Hermione's heart suddenly felt like it was throbbing in her throat.

When the woman turned back around, a panicked Hermione pulled on her sleeve once again. "Wait! Prophesy? What prophesy?"

But by then the torrent of mourners had pulled her back into the fray like battered debris being sucked out to sea, leaving a petrified Hermione to shudder in its wake.

Malfoy leaned over near the shell of her ear. "Granger, I have a bad feeling about this. We need to get out of here. Now."

The forceful way in which he said it caused her hair to stand on end. But before the words even had the chance to travel to her cerebral cortex to process his foreboding warning, their surroundings began to shift with the suffocating chill of dark magic.

The trees stilled.

The breeze halted in an unnatural gridlock.

Even the fish in the ornamental pool arrested their predilection to swim.

And then the eerie sound of a disembodied voice boomed around them so loudly it dropped them to their knees, hands pressing against their ears to smother the force.

The echoes of disorder from the dispersing crowd rained down on them as the foursome sought refuge in each other's eyes.

Fear not what you think is lost, for a new Golden Age is upon us. The flesh of the past will reign once again bringing glory to each and every one of you who shows loyalty to the New Ptolemaic Dynasty.

Hermione sucked in a breath so deep it hurt as the words tore through the tense air past her palms and into her ears. She willed her crouched legs to remain sturdy as the explosive voice nearly compromised her vision.

Seeing her blink away the trembling strands of hair trapped between her lashes, Draco leaned against her, ducking his head against hers to keep her locked in place.

Quickly glancing up, everything seemed so surreal, a distorted reality that her brain struggled to comprehend. Witches and wizards were careening into one another as they fought to make a desperate escape by foot, sheer terror marring their hollow faces. Others had fallen to their knees much like Hermione had, trembling hands clutching ashen skin. And still others stood rooted to the spot looking around absently almost in mental and physical surrender.

Together we will rise to be the great Kingdom of our forefathers' design. And together we will rule the world once again.

Hermione thought her eardrums would burst as Draco tore her hand away from her face with a vice-firm grip. "We need to get out of here," he warned again, this time more forcefully. "Grab Potter and Weasley."

With one ear exposed, she flinched as she now heard panicked shrieks coming from somewhere in the distance. Even the buildings seemed to shudder as the eerie echoes vibrated the ground with their volume. She instinctively reached over with her free hand to grab Harry's arm, gulping down the painful lump in her throat. "We need to go!" she shouted above the din, her fingers quaking.

With a hurried nod of understanding from Harry's worry-wrinkled face, he latched onto Ron's elbow blinking at them intuitively before the crack of Apparition rang out transporting them far away from the mounting chaos.