Travel Log 3: Egypt, Alexandria to Luxor

September to November 1999

"The Great Library of Alexandria," Voldemort said, sounding honestly surprised. "And here I thought you would go straight to the Valley of the Kings to look at the tombs. Isn't that what you are, now – one who serves the dead?"

"Have you been here before?" Harry asked, ignoring the last part.

Theodore made a strangled sound. "Don't pay attention to him, Harry."

Voldemort threw him a smirk before turning back to Harry. "Of course I visited the Great Library during my travels. How could I not?" He spread his arms wide. "The magnitude of the knowledge collected here is unparalleled in the entire word."

It truly was impressive. Hermione was going to abandon her education to strangle Harry the moment she found out about this – scrolls and books farther than the eye could reach, stored on multiple floors, preserving the knowledge of millennia, continuing to grow every day. And all of it in a magical building that combined ancient architecture with modern technology.

Theodore was in heaven.

Even Harry, who had never found much enjoyment in books, was impressed.

"But how did you know it actually survived the fire?" he asked.

Voldemort threw his head back and laughed. "I didn't. It is a well-kept secret. I stumbled across it just like you did when I came to Alexandria looking for answers."

Harry stared at the young man before him, expressing his delight so freely.

He still couldn't believe that this was Voldemort. He was so – different. A completely changed person.

Changed.

Death changed people, Sephoneia had always told Harry.

And Voldemort was whole now – a complete soul once more, even though he shouldn't have been – not after what he had done to himself, after how he had mutilated his very essence.

Harry had never met Tom Riddle when he had still been whole. The closest he had come had been the Diary – already a broken-off part – and the few memories Dumbledore had shown him. Memories that had come from rather biased sources, if Harry thought about it.

So was this who Voldemort had been before it all? Was this what Voldemort could have been, had he not gone down the wrong path?

"Besides," Tom continued, still smiling openly, "it wasn't just the fire. Years of incidents following one after the other slowly diminished its glory. It would have lost its importance sooner or later just as Alexandria as a whole did."

"But it didn't."

The smile on Tom's face turned sharp. "Because of us. Because our kind took great pains to preserve all this knowledge, Harry. It's why the Muggles never found any archaeological remains."

"Alright," Theodore interrupted loudly. "That's enough of you. We've seen it, let's move on."

Harry gave his friend an incredulous look. "But we only just arrived. Don't you want to read any of the books here?"

"We can come back some other time," Theodore said primly, his narrowed eyes fixed firmly on Tom.

Harry opened his mouth to retort but then thought better of it.

"If that is what you want," was what he settled on and so they left without having opened a single book.

o

"Now, this is what I was talking about."

"Be quiet, Tom. Show some respect for the dead."

"Why, Harry dear, you forget that I am dead."

"And so was I. Now kindly shut up or I will make you."

"Should have left him in that damn sarcophagus," he heard Theodore grumble.

At least Tom did stay silent until they were done exploring the Kom el-Shoqafa catacombs.

"You know," he then began conversationally the moment they exited the catacombs, "it feels unfair for you to be able to simply silence me with the wave of a hand when I don't even have a wand to defend my own virtue."

"What virtue," Harry said flatly. "I am most certainly not giving you a wand. I would have left you with Draco at the tent if I didn't think you would somehow manage to sneak away and wreak havoc."

"Your mistrust wounds me, Harry," Tom said and the hurt in his voice was definitely fake. "Surely, you don't need two wands when you can simply cast magic with your very will. Just give one of them to me."

Harry didn't even want to know how Tom had found out about that.

"Oh, wouldn't you love to get your hands on the Elder Wand?" he muttered.

An emotion flashed across Tom's face, too quick for Harry to decipher. "I think I would actually prefer the holly, thank you very much."

Harry gaped at him. "My holly wand?"

"So," Tom said, his voice filled with painfully fake cheer, "Where are we headed next?"

Harry blinked at the sudden change in topic, but decided to allow it if it stopped Tom from continuing to pester him about being handed a wand.

"Cairo and then Luxor." Harry glanced at Theodore. "We were originally planning to stay in Alexandria for at least a month and a half so we could spend Samhain in Luxor."

Theodore sighed. "We can stay as we had planned. It's fine."

"Are you sure? We don't have to stay if you don't want to. I don't mind a change of plans."

"No, it's fine. Really, Harry, don't worry."

"If you say so."

o

"Are you truly alright?" Harry asked Theodore once they were back at their tent, in the relative privacy of their room.

Tom and Draco were sharing the other room. It was almost funny how uncomfortable Draco's presence seemed to make Tom. Harry was mostly just glad Draco didn't seem to mind.

"Of course I am," Theodore replied tersely.

Harry put a hand over the book his friend was reading to force Theodore to look at him. "Theo. Talk to me, please."

There was a flicker of a grimace before Theodore's expression settled on something neutral, something closed off. "I simply do not like having to put up with the Dark Lord's presence. I do not understand why you cannot simply leave him behind and ignore him the same way you do with Draco."

Harry winced at the reminder of his continued refusal to do anything about Draco.

"I don't trust him enough to leave him behind unsupervised."

"There is magic for that, Harry. Magic the Dark Lord doesn't know. Magic he has never learned."

"But he could learn it. He's a genius, Theo. We can't underestimate him."

"Because he has tried so hard to escape and do evil deeds so far. He said it, himself – this is his punishment. Entertaining him seems rather contradictory to that, don't you think?"

Harry looked at Theodore, carefully examining his friend's face, a realisation slowly dawning on him.

"Are you – Are you jealous, Theo? Of Tom?"

"That's the Dark Lord you are talking about!" Theodore hissed. "Not some boy called 'Tom'. He's not an innocent. He slaughtered hundreds!"

"Dozens, rather," Harry corrected absently and then winced when Theodore's expression rapidly darkened. "I know what he has done, Theo. To himself and to others. I know it very intimately, in case you have forgotten."

That made Theodore avert his gaze, guilt in his eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean –"

"I call him Tom because it humanises him. For so long, everyone around me avoided calling him Voldemort because the very mention of that name terrified them. It never terrified me. But 'Lord Voldemort' is a name that Tom Riddle chose to turn himself into a monster – it is a name he chose to rid himself of all that linked him to his Muggle father."

"I understand that," Theodore said quietly. "I do. What I don't understand is why you keep – keep inviting him along. Why you keep talking to him. Being nice to him." He made a frustrated sound and then continued in an even quieter voice, "I don't like the way he speaks to you. I don't like the way he smiles at you."

"So you really are jealous."

"That's not the point, Harry."

"But you are," Harry stressed, a goofy smile sneaking onto his face. "You're jealous of a dead Dark Lord."

Theodore grimaced. "Harry –"

Harry moved the hand he had left lying on top of Theodore's book over his friend's hand and squeezed.

"You know," he said happily, goofy smile still on his face, "there is no reason for you to be. He's not you."

"Of course not, why would you even –"

"He's not you," Harry stressed and leaned in closer, still holding Theodore's hand. "And he never will be."

He could see the way Theodore's pupils dilated as Harry's breath fanned over his face.

"What are you saying?" Theodore whispered.

"I didn't only let you tag along because I wanted the company of a friend. I could have taken Rhea if that were the case. I'm sure Hermione and Ron would also have happily come with me, had I asked."

"You wouldn't have survived a week with Rhea."

Harry snickered. "True, but that's beside the point." He gave Theodore an earnest look. "I wanted you by my side, Theo. I enjoy spending time with you."

"Why?"

Harry smiled, remembering a conversation they had had years ago.

"Why not? Am I not allowed to?"

A breath escaped Theodore with an almost soundless, "Ah."

"I always wanted us to be close," Theodore admitted.

"And we are, now," Harry said, "aren't we?"

"Perhaps."

For a moment, they simply looked into each other's eyes, Harry still leaning over the table and right into Theodore's space.

Then Theodore broke the silence with a whispered, "You said I don't have to ask anymore."

His gaze dropped to Harry's lips.

Harry smiled.

"You don't," he agreed and finally closed the rest of the distance.

o

"You never were going to take the first step, were you?" Harry asked later, after they had retired to bed.

Theodore didn't even take his eyes from the book he was still reading. "I took plenty of first steps, thank you."

(How Theodore had ever thought it possible he could willingly stay away from the Great Library was beyond Harry.)

Harry titled his head to better look at him from where he was sprawled halfway across Theodore's lap. "But no second?"

"I couldn't be sure."

"You could have asked."

Theodore finally tore his eyes away from his book to give Harry an unimpressed look. "And risk making things awkward between us? Our friendship is too precious to me, Harry."

Harry sighed. "And to think not even the Great Library of Alexandria was motivator enough."

"That's different."

"Is it?" Harry grinned. "Because I distinctly remember you giving up on it because you were jealous of the way Tom stole my attention from you."

"Well," Theodore said, deliberately returning his gaze to his book, "then it is a good thing I have no reason to be jealous, anymore. And because you love me so much, you will let me read as many books in that library as I want."

"Wait –"

Theodore fixed him with a pointed look. "Won't you, Harry?"

They ended up staying in Alexandria for almost three entire months, Halloween passing by almost without notice.

They performed the Samhain rites on the beach to the sound of rushing waves. Harry was sceptical about including Draco and Tom at first, but the rituals really did work better with four people rather than two – even if half of their group was dead. Harry wondered what either of them had seen that put such a haunted look in their eyes afterwards, but didn't think it was his place to probe.

Tom's disappeared quickly enough the moment they found themselves back in the library, surrounded by books, but Draco's lingered and Harry knew he would have to face him sooner or later.

(But later sounded good. Later was nice.)

"I will miss it," Theodore said wistfully when they were finally ready to depart.

Harry took his hand. "We can always come back later."

"It truly is magnificent," Tom said. "There is no other like it."

Theodore narrowed his eyes. "You may stay behind. We wouldn't mind."

"No, no, no," Harry said, partially joking and partially genuinely aghast at the idea. "Theo, think of the horrors he could unleash with all the knowledge he would have free access to here."

"I know to behave myself," Tom interjected smoothly, a dark glint in his eyes. "I wouldn't mind staying behind, either."

"No," Harry said firmly. "You know very well why that is not possible." To Theodore, "I'm sorry, love."

Theodore's face softened. "Alright. But if he accidentally triggers a trap in one of the yet-to-be-excavated pyramids you promised we would explore and we unfortunately cannot save him, no one needs to know."

Harry threw his head back and laughed. "Sure. Why not."

And with one last look at the city of Alexandria, they all put their hands on the ragged strawhat Draco had picked up and let the portkey whisk them away.