Harry Potter and the Eye of Isis

Chapter 13 - Philea

Harry had been bullied into doing Voldemort's bidding not by his words but by the proof he offered to Harry that he could, and would, kill Mrs. Weasley. Voldemort had shown Harry third eyes that had been planted inside the Burrow and watched with his own eyes as Dobby came to her (as instructed by Harry if anything ever happened to him) weeping about Harry's capture. He watched Mrs. Weasley console the small elf, all the while weeping herself. And then he watched as Dumbledore appeared at the Burrow to tell her that he indeed had been kidnapped, presumably by Voldemort.

It was all the proof that Voldemort needed to show Harry. If he could get into the Burrow to plant third eyes, he could get into the Burrow to kill as well. Harry had agreed, rather quickly, to go to Philea and seek out the Eye of Isis, though he still didn't know what it was or why Voldemort wanted it. He assumed it might have something to do with the coffin that was being toted around with them everywhere, but he just wasn't one hundred percent certain. For all he knew, that truly was the coffin that Voldemort intended to bury Harry in, and he was bringing it along as a constant reminder that death was imminent.

To Harry's great surprise, Snape had been ordered to heal Harry's back correctly. And while it had been an unpleasant experience, consisting of Snape scrubbing him down in the Nile River with what felt like a brillo pad, Harry's back did feel much better. It had taken several days of constantly taking potions, but he almost felt back to normal. If he weren't concerned about Mrs. Weasley's safety, he would have Apparated away. He just couldn't threaten her life though.

The journey to Philea had been made on camel back; Harry shackled in a cage like an animal all the way with Professor Snape and Lucius Malfoy staring at him. Harry didn't turn his gaze away from them, and in fact, had managed to make them stop looking at him by refusing to give into their attempt at intimidation.

When they arrived at Philea, Harry was immediately taken into a pyramid. It seemed like forever into the depths of it but finally all of the Death Eaters made a camp in a large chamber, putting Harry in a side chamber and sealing it so he couldn't get away.

"My Lord," Severus Snape bowed deeply before Voldemort, "he is fully recovered."

"Thank you, Severus," Voldemort said, his voice very indifferent about Harry and his condition, or the man that delivered the news. "Why have you not opened up your mind to me, Severus?" he asked coldly. "I hadn't expected you to hide from me in these last few months."

"Of course it would give me great pleasure for you to know my thoughts, my lord," Snape explained, "however, you know that I had been asked to train Potter in Occlumency."

"And?"

"He is quite proficient at it, my lord; both in Occlumency and Legimency. I do not wish for the boy to be able to read my thoughts."

"Is he truly doing that well?" Voldemort asked out of curiosity.

Snape just nodded. "You trained me, my lord, and I've trained him. Had I known he would actually excel in a subject I would not have been so forthcoming, as it is--"

"He is an Occlumens of your calibre?" he asked of his servant and received a nod as an answer. "This is indeed disappointing, but also encouraging. It explains why I can't read Potter's emotions any longer, unless he's fatigued."

Voldemort paced silently around the room for a few minutes. Surveying Snape kneeled over on the ground. "And he believes that you are spying on Dumbledore for me?"

Snape only nodded. "It would appear so."

"What was he told, Severus, that would lead him to this conclusion?"

"He was told that I am working to gain Dumbledore's trust back by spying on you."

"I see." Voldemort smiled ever so slightly, sure not to reveal his happiness to Snape. "It would appear as though he never believed that story, and now that your true intentions have been made known, you can never go back to Dumbledore."

"Thank you, my lord."

"Tell me, Severus, what happened to Harry when he turned sixteen that has changed so much in him? How did he know that my Death Eaters were coming for him in October?"

"Dumbledore believes that Harry may have the sight, and has had the centaur, Firenze, tutoring Harry in the art of Divination since the summer."

"Very well," said Voldemort, seemingly accepting these explanations. "I want you to go into the temple with Potter, Severus. I want you to keep him in line, by any means necessary. And I want you to bring him back to me with the Eye of Isis."

"With great pleasure." Snape finally rose from his kneeling position.

"It is not to be destroyed under any circumstances, do you understand? It and Harry must come out of the temple alive and in one piece."

"What is it, my lord?" Snape had to ask, even if it meant that he would receive the Cruciatus curse for questioning Voldemort.

"It revives, and I believe there are only two people in this world that can use it. One is Harry Potter and the other is Crouch," Voldemort answered.

"Why them?" Snape continued to press his luck.

"Because they are both descendants of two of the Hogwarts founders."

"Two?" Snape racked his brain wondering how that was possible.

"Yes, I am not the last of Salazar Slytherin's line. It turns out, after doing much research on the matter, that Potter's Mudblood mother wasn't all Mudblood after all. And while it isn't commonly known, the Potters are of Gryffindor's line.

"Crouch, of course, hails from the other two founders. While less distinguished, he would still be able to wield the power of Isis." Voldemort peered at Snape with what seemed to be amusement. "Is there anything else that you'd like to know, Severus?"

He shook his head slowly. "No, My Lord, I thank you for sharing so much with me. I will bring you the Eye of Isis."

"Good," Voldemort's face turned back to an emotionless mask. "Before you go, bring Harry to me. I wish to speak with him...to encourage him." A cool laugh departed his thin lips.

Snape did as he was told and went to retrieve Harry. When he got to the small room where Harry was kept, he had to look for Harry. He searched each wall knowing that he couldn't Apparated while in a pyramid. He realised that Harry must have charmed himself to match something in the room. Snape didn't know how much Flitwick was teaching Harry, or how advanced Harry had become at Charms, but if he had accomplished the disillusionment charm...Snape was impressed.

"I know you're in here, Potter," the greasy-haired man told him, "I can feel it. You're not going to escape while you think that the Dark Lord will kill Mrs. Weasley, so let's just stop this foolish game."

Why are you trying to convince me that you are really on my side? Harry's voice entered Snape's mind. What is it that he sent you in here to do to me?

"He wants to speak with you," Snape answered aloud. "Why don't you just get this over with? You know as well as I do that you're going to retrieve the Eye of Isis for him, so stop acting like a boy and start acting like a man. I don't think you want to endure any more pain."

Harry finally appeared to Snape. He had been on top of the cage, blended in completely with the black metal. "Are you threatening me?" he asked as he jumped down and stood directly in front of Snape.

"I don't have to, Potter, the Dark Lord has already taken care of that. Now come," he grabbed the back of the black robe that Harry had been given, "he wishes your audience."

Harry shoved away from Snape, forcing his Potions Master to release the robe. He continued to walk though, knowing that his chances of getting away, and saving Mrs. Weasley, rested on this Eye of Isis. If Voldemort wanted it, then Harry wanted it. He could only hope what he attempted earlier in the day would work. He hoped he chosen the right person to send the message to, and that it would work because Mrs. Weasley was only safe until Harry had performed his task, after that...she was as good as dead.

*

Harry had refused to sit this time when Voldemort commanded. Voldemort had become so enraged when Harry had beaten the Imperius curse that he cast the Cruciatus curse at Harry, only to find that Harry was some how able to block that one as well. He simply looked at Voldemort and smiled.

"You didn't even manage to tickle me," Harry said casually, knowing he was angering Voldemort more, but even more shocked that he'd actually been able to block the pain. Mad Eye Moody (or rather, Crouch in Moody's body) said he could do it if he just disconnected himself from the pain, but Harry wasn't sure if he could really do it with the Cruciatus curse knowing the agony it caused.

"Your servants have done a fine job of teaching me, haven't they?" Harry asked. "First Crouch, and now Snape."

"Yes, well, I must take the credit for that, and the blame," Voldemort conceded. "I ordered them to instruct you, but I didn't think you were capable of learning these techniques."

"You don't deserve any credit for what I've learned," he snapped. "Dumbledore is the Headmaster of Hogwarts; he is the one who--"

"Dumbledore, oh yes, mighty Dumbledore. He's always had your best interest at heart hasn't he, Harry?" This question was clearly getting under Harry's skin. Voldemort didn't need to curse the boy to torture him; he simply needed to remind him of the life that Dumbledore had chosen for Harry to live.

"You place too much faith in that old man," Voldemort's voice suggested that he was merely taunting Harry, but Harry seemed to sense the truth in the words Voldemort spoke. "Why can't any of you see that there is little difference between me and Dumbledore...that he too is driven by power?"

"Liar."

"Yes, it's easier to call me a liar than to look at the truth," he conceded. "I don't blame you, Harry, but I know that you see the truth is just as I say. The only difference between your precious Dumbledore and I is that he is no leader at all. He stands on high and has others do his work for him. Tell me why he is training you, Harry, when he could fight me himself. Why did he abandon you as a child? Tell me why he put you in that filthy Muggle home when you deserved to be raised as the wizard that you are?"

"To keep me out of the attention, to let me grow up normal--"

"And did you? Did you grow up normal?"

Harry didn't answer because he didn't want to concede the truth to Voldemort, Harry believed whole heartedly that Dumbledore had made a mistake placing Harry with the Dursley's, and so did a great many others.

"He put you in that home, Harry, to keep you from becoming the wizard that you are meant to be. He kept you there so that you wouldn't steal any of his following and so that when he did finally send for you, you would be grateful... so grateful that you'd go to war for him.

"You're sixteen, right, Harry? How many times have you faced me now?" Voldemort knew about his encounter with his diary self in the Chamber of Secrets in Harry's second year. "Four times, not including your journey with me now. How many times has Dumbledore himself faced me? Once, Harry, and you were there."

"You're scared of him-- you--"

"Did I look scared of him, Harry? You were there?"

"You fled--"

"I was weakened from possessing you," his thin lips spread revealing an unnerving smile, "and you know how physically draining that is. I hear you're getting quite good at it. You've even taken your dear professor over, haven't you?"

Harry's mind revolted at that thought. Of course, the loyal Professor Snape had told Voldemort that he was giving him Occlumency lessons, and that Harry possessed the ability to do Legimency as well. It solidified Harry's feeling that Snape was indeed a double agent and his true loyalty held firm with the Dark Lord.

"So?"

"Lucius tells me you can control electrical currents as well. What else have you learned to do, Harry? And where has this power surge come from? You're too young to have gone through your change but something has happened."

"Why would I tell you anything?" Harry asked venomously. "You only mean to kill me."

"Harry, I would train you to be at my side if you'd agree to it. Have you ever thought of the wonderful things that we could accomplish together?"

The goal of this conversation dawned on Harry. It was all merely an attempt at turning him against Dumbledore, and of all things, into a Death Eater. Though Harry's contempt for Dumbledore was growing by leaps and bounds, his desire to join Voldemort would never change. He would never become a Death Eater.

"Rot in hell," Harry insisted venomously, locking eyes with Voldemort in order to show him that he no longer scared him. This direct eye contact caused his scar to begin throbbing, ablaze with pain for the first noticeable time since standing before Voldemort. When he had arrived in Egypt it had been to a battery of curses inflicted by others, he hadn't even seen Voldemort before he was unconscious the first time.

"I'll never join with you."

Voldemort slowly shook his head in disappointment. "Have it your way then." His wand pointed directly at Harry. "Crucio!"

Harry didn't have far to fall as the curse sliced through him. He was trying his hardest not to scream, trying to block the pain, trying not to give in but in the end he was lying in a heap on the ground. Sweat and tears covered his face, and his scar, which was still searing with pain, began oozing blood. It told him of Voldemort's anger.

"Where's Dumbledore now, Harry?" He squatted down next to him. "Where was he last summer when you so foolishly got your godfather killed? Where was he the night I took your parent's lives? Where was he when your father's best friend became a Death Eater? Where was he last week when my servant swooped right in under his nose and removed you from Hogwarts?"

Harry's pain and anger boiled together, these very questions and emotions had been stewing for far too long, and Voldemort seemed to be fully aware of where Harry's breaking point was, and who it lay with. Where had Dumbledore been? Why had he allowed any of that to happen? And why was it that he, Harry Potter, seemed to be the only one suffering at great lengths by Voldemort's own hand?

Harry tipped his head back and screamed. His voice shot through the small chamber, cracking the walls and vibrating the floor, but Voldemort was undeterred from his stance. That angered Harry more. As angry as he was with Dumbledore he was livid with Voldemort for continuing to ruin his existence, leaving him no semblance of life. He could feel his fury rising within him and he welcomed it.

The air began to crackle as static filled the room. Voldemort glanced around watching the energy that Harry was pooling until beams of light were streaming down from the ceiling as if lightening were about to strike. Several bolts struck Voldemort, but he refused to acknowledge the pain that Harry was capable of inflicting. Finally, a bolt struck down with so much force, it hit them both and blew the stone door off of the chamber.

Harry sat up, and immediately attacked Voldemort, his fists flying at him fiercely. Voldemort backed away quickly and pointed his wand at Harry but Harry anticipated it this time.

"Accio wand!" The wand went directly to him, and Harry had no doubt what to do with it. "Crucio!"

The amber current connected with Voldemort, and for a moment the monster became a man again, remembering what it felt like to be cursed as Harry's anger continued, coursing through every inch of his body. Voldemort collapsed, convulsing on the cold stone floor. Harry moved closer to him, not removing the curse. When he was standing directly over him, watching the horror he was inflicting he dropped the wand suddenly, feeling the anger within consume him. He was becoming just like Voldemort, enjoying the pain he was causing. His legs gave out from his fatigue and sorrow, and he sank to his knees, gripping his own body.

Though the Dark Lord was in pain, he was also hopeful and amused as he rolled to his seat, taking deep breaths and laughing at the same time. He hadn't enjoyed being cursed, but Harry's reaction of doing evil had been worth every moment. If he couldn't talk Harry into joining with him, he certainly seemed to be doing an excellent job of proving to the Boy-Who-Lived that they weren't so different after all. Harry possessed the power and the anger to become Voldemort, and Voldemort was succeeding at turning Harry into him. He was succeeding at breaking through any morals that were left in the hope of the wizarding world, taunting him into using the darkest of magic.

"I see that we are not so different after all," whispered Voldemort as he grabbed his wand off of the floor. No further curses were necessary; Harry had cursed himself far better than Voldemort ever could. "Get him back to his chamber," he ordered a Death Eater standing just outside of the room. "He will begin his journey in the morning."

Harry didn't spend a moment of the evening sleeping. Hatred boiled in his veins and it wasn't directed at Voldemort. Sure, he was livid at the thing that was holding him captive, but even more so at the wizard who had imprisoned him for ten years of his life. As much as Harry didn't want to admit it, Voldemort was right. Keeping Harry out of the wizarding world only stood to gain Dumbledore acclaim. Had the Boy-Who-Lived been raised a proper wizard, things would have turned out much differently for a lot of people...mainly Harry, who wouldn't have been starved and tortured by the Dursleys. Voldemort was right, there wasn't much different between the Dark Lord and the Headmaster.

To add to everything Harry felt that Dumbledore was responsible for in his life was the fact that everyone trusted the man implicitly, and now Mrs. Weasley's life hung in the balance. Harry had the opportunity to escape, but who would protect the woman he'd come to love as his own mother? Could he really trust Dumbledore to take care of that enormous task? Especially since no one knew that she was in danger?

Harry's worries ate him up inside, and the morning came all too quickly. Before he knew it, six Death Eaters stood in the limestone room he'd become accustomed to. One of the men was a certain rat-faced traitor that Harry recognised all too well. As he walked by Wormtail he leered at him, letting his eyes remain on the man responsible for ending his parent's lives as long as possible. Just before exiting the room, Harry mouthed, 'You're dead,' to him, invoking a fearful reaction.

He was escorted to Voldemort again, but this time he was presented in front of the rest of the Death Eaters. Snape was standing at Voldemort's side. Harry didn't listen to what Voldemort was saying to the group; instead he was picking up a soft echoing sound that was coming off of the walls. It seemed like they were actually trying to talk to him.

Harry's attention was brought back to his current situation by Snape grabbing the front of his robes and pushing him forward. "He never listens, my lord," he said impatiently.

Voldemort nodded and repeated himself what he had said to Harry just a moment ago. "You will Apparate to the Temple of Isis. In the inner most sanctuary you will find some ancient artefacts, among them is the item I seek--"

"First off," Harry sneered, "I can't Apparate, and second, I have no idea what it is you seek."

"You know exactly what I seek," said Voldemort in a low voice that displayed his extreme dislike for Harry's sharp tongue, "and it will know you. And I assumed you could Apparate since you got away from my servants before you even went back to Hogwarts last year."

"Well, you assumed wrong," Harry lied.

Harry didn't anticipate being cursed at that moment. And he certainly didn't expect it to be anything other than an unforgivable. "Aduro!"

Harry's sleeve burst into flame, but he knew immediately knew that it was not his robes that had been set on fire. The flesh underneath them had. He frantically beat on his right arm, trying to put out the flames but it didn't work.

"Exstinctum!" Harry shouted in pain. The smell of burnt flesh filled his nostrils as the flames were extinguished. He clutched his arm to his chest, hoping that the agony of the continuous throbbing feel of the burn wasn't showing. He didn't want to give Voldemort any satisfaction.

"Get him out of my sight," Voldemort finally told Snape, "and bring me the Eye of Isis!"

Snape nodded obediently then shoved Harry out of the room. After making their way through a corridor that was so narrow it required them to crawl, Harry finally emerged into the sunlight for the first time in days. He wanted to feel it was a welcome sight, but instead the heat pouring down from the sun irritated his arm even more, causing the pain to double.

Snape grabbed Harry's injured arm, forcefully rolling up the sleeve. "Don't be such a snivelling little wimp, Potter, there are far worse things that he could have done to you." Without saying a word a red light emitted from his wand and covered the fresh burn. The burn quickly became a large blister but was immediately covered by a white substance that followed the red light out of Snape's wand.

While the burn looked better, it didn't feel any better. Snape seemed to sense what Harry was thinking and answered him. "A little burn is nothing to shed a tear over. Let's get on with this," he ordered, his wand pointed directly at Harry's stomach.

Harry turned and marched in front of him, feeling the point of the wand in his back as they went. "You can never go back now, everyone knows by now that you're loyal to Voldemort--"

"Don't say his name!" he hissed.

"You're a coward--" Harry didn't even get to finish his thought of his former professor, he found himself faced down in the sand. He rolled onto his back and glared up at the pale-faced man. "Go ahead, kill me!"

The look on Snape's face seemed to suggest that he was considering the request but instead he leaned down and grabbed Harry by the front of his robes. "You know everything don't you, Potter?" he lifted Harry to his feet, and again thrust his wand towards his gut. "Now get moving before the Dark Lord begins to listen to our conversation. Don't you know that he can read you when you are distracted or weak?"

"What do you care?"

Snape didn't answer, instead he pushed him again. Harry finally began walking, spitting sand from his mouth all the while. They stopped in front of an ancient building that was obviously the Temple of Isis. Harry stopped in front of the entrance and peered back at Snape. The man had picked up a rock and was tapping his wand on it. He muttered the charm that Harry remembered Dumbledore using to make a portkey at the end of his fifth year.

"Here," Snape held it out for Harry, "it will take you back to the Forbidden Forest. You're own your own from there, but I suggest you run...fast."

Harry stared at the stone for a moment then up at Professor Snape. "What?"

"I'm not loyal, you idiot, I came to rescue you," he explained. "Do you think I could have just spent the last week here without pretending to want you dead?"

"You've got me convinced." Harry didn't take the rock; certain this was some sort of ploy by Voldemort.

"Take it, you can't Apparate back to England," he sneered. "You might be stronger but you aren't that good of a wizard yet."

"I'm not going to leave without to Eye of Isis," he informed him. "Voldemort wants it pretty badly; bad enough to keep me alive this long, bad enough to keep me healthy. If he wants it, I want it. Besides, he will kill Mrs. Weasley, you and I both know that."

"If she is the Dark Lord's collateral then she's as good as dead." Snape was certain of that much.

"Exactly, that's why I must get the Eye of Isis for myself. As long as I have it, she will live." Harry turned his back on Snape and marched directly into the temple. "Aren't you coming with me?" he asked without looking back at the man.

Snape tossed the rock to the side, wrapped his arms across his chest and followed Harry; his thoughts screaming to be spoken, but biting his tongue. He despised being told what to do by Voldemort, but even more so by Harry Potter. He owed James and Lily this though; he would look after their son.

Harry and his professor walked through the temple both unsure of what they were looking for and Harry felt no pull towards the object, regardless of what Voldemort seemed to suggest. He was at a loss as he stopped to study the inscriptions on the walls.

"You can't read it," Snape looked over Harry's shoulder at the Egyptian symbols craved into the wall, "why are you even trying?"

Harry didn't even glance back at the man standing behind him. The thought of having to look at him over and over was getting to Harry, and he wasn't about to act like a petulant student any longer, Snape was going to know exactly how Harry felt about him without using Legimency.

"Has it ever occurred to you that I might be able to decipher what's on these walls if you'd just shut up?"

"Why you--"

"Don't threaten me," Harry said coolly. "We're not at Hogwarts anymore, and I'm certain that you'll never be teaching there again, so you can give me detention all you want, Snape, it doesn't matter."

"You think you know so much, don't you, Potter?" Snape questioned Harry. "You've always been so arrogant, so unlike your mother. You haven't a clue how you've survived all these years. How she protected you--"

"I know about the blood magic."

"Yes, well, you would be wise to remember more than that," he turned his back and walked away.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked looking at the silhouette of Snape until it disappeared into the darkness. "What did you mean by that? How am I supposed to remember anything about my mother when she died so long ago?"

"You're so smart," the voice came from the darkness, "you figure it out."

Harry returned to looking at the hieroglyphs, he really didn't have the time or the energy to talk to Snape. The man obviously wasn't going to offer him any insight into his mother's life. "I should know better than to ask for anything from someone who is loyal to Voldemort, or Dumbledore, or who ever it is that you serve. It doesn't really matter, does it?"

"There is a big difference between the Dark Lord and the Headmaster--"

"Not from where I'm standing...they're both the same." Harry felt this to be true. "Voldemort wants me dead and Dumbledore has taken my life away already, so you tell me...how are they different?"

"Believe what you will, Potter. It never makes a difference what people tell you; you always believe what you want."

"I am the only truth I know," Harry whispered quietly to himself, momentarily feeling sorry for himself, but knowing it would do him no good. Pity had no place in war, and it had no place in Harry's heart. He could do very little to change the circumstances surrounding his life. All he felt capable of at the moment was trying to find a shred of safety for those that he cared about.

"You're not the only person who had a rough childhood," Snape's voice interrupted Harry's train of thought almost as if he knew that Harry's emotion was falling to self decay and wanted to change it back into loathing. "I don't feel sorry for you at all."

"I knew that already." Long minutes passed before either said anything again. When Harry turned to tell Snape he thought the he'd found something, the greasy haired man was standing right behind him again.

"According to this, there are secret passageways that lead to different tombs and mastabas. I think what we're looking for will be somewhere that a Muggle could never find it."

"You don't know much about Egypt, do you, Potter?" Snape didn't let him answer. "That is fairly obvious."

"I know about the wards, forgive me for stating the obvious," he begged sarcastically, while wishing that Snape had not suddenly become the person he must trust in order to survive. "Just help me start looking for a passageway."

As Harry instructed, they both began pressing on stones as their journey continued into the bowels of the temple. This made the journey very slow going, and after an hour in silence, Harry recovered from the surge of anger he'd had towards Snape and his curiosity getting the better of him caused him to speak.

"You were friends with my mother, weren't you?"

"Not at first," Snape answered matter-of-factly, "but over the years I came to trust and respect her. Yes, to answer your question, she was my friend."

"Even though she was a Mudblood?" Harry wondered how that had happened since Snape appeared to be a cold-hearted Slytherin. Of course, the memory of what a prat his father could be entered his mind, reminding him that not everyone showed their true selves.

"I hated her more for your father than her blood."

"Why didn't you try to save her if she was your friend?"

Snape looked over his shoulder at Harry. "Who do you think told Professor Dumbledore that the Dark Lord was after you?" Harry didn't answer. "You don't think at all, do you, Potter?"

"You really are spying on Voldemort then?" Harry seemed to realise it just by looking in his eyes now. Something had happened in the last week that had convinced Harry that Snape was working for Dumbledore; Harry just didn't want to admit it to himself. He liked hating Snape. He didn't want to be on the same side as the Slytherin.

A feeling, almost as if he had a distant memory about Snape, and it seemed to be gnawing at Harry. It was what Harry was reacting to as he realised, "And you are now?" he asked and Snape nodded. "This is all a trap then."

"I'm afraid I've come to that conclusion as well," Snape affirmed. "It is the only explanation as to why the Dark Lord would send just me with you to retrieve the Eye of Isis. He knows that I will help you escape. He's probably surprised that we haven't left Egypt already."

"No, he's not," Harry leaned against the wall. "He knew you were disloyal, I sensed it." He realised that was the feeling he was having. He'd sensed it from Voldemort, and that was why he trusted Snape now. Voldemort knew that Snape had come to Egypt to rescue Harry.

"I thought so," the professor confessed. "He offered too much information to me when I didn't ask for it, and even when I started asking questions, he continued. It would seem to me that he wanted me to pass that information onto you--"

"Which means that he doesn't really know what the Eye of Isis does," concluded Harry. "What would he want it for if he wasn't sure what it does?" He wondered.

"I'm sure he knows what it does, Potter. I think that he doesn't know how to use it; that's what he wants you for--" Snape quit speaking abruptly as the stone he was leaning on gave way a bit. "This is it!"

Harry joined his side and they both pushed as hard as they could on the large limestone. It moved inch by inch until a deep black hole was revealed. Harry stuck his head and wand into it and tried to look around but couldn't see a thing.

"It looks endless. I don't even see a bottom."

Snape stuck his head in too and looked into nothingness. "I can levitate us into the space until we find something to walk on."

"Levitation takes a massive amount of concentration. You'll be completely exhausted in no time."

"Then I guess you'll have to take over if that happens." He looked at Harry. "You have been working on levitation, haven't you?"

Harry nodded. "Professor Flitwick has been teaching me charms and how to use the electrical currents to levitate, but I haven't perfected it yet."

"There's no such thing as perfection with magic," Snape explained as he backed his head out of the hole. "You will just have to hope this tunnel isn't as deep as it appears to be."

Harry straightened up, standing at the edge of the opening. "I'm ready...just do it."

Snape pointed his wand at Harry, and without saying a word, Harry was pushed back off of the ledge drifting downwards. He'd gone down so far that he couldn't even see the opening any longer and he had no idea how many kilometres he'd travelled before his feet finally touched solid ground again. The moment he did a bright light ignited, filling what was a wide, long corridor with a brilliant green light.

The light was so bright that Harry had to cover his eyes for a moment so that he could adjust from the darkness to this vibrant glow. When he uncovered his eyes he looked at the source of the green light. The corridor was lined with hundreds of green flamed torches. The light shone off the golden wall with such beauty it was hypnotising.

"Potter!" the shout broke Harry's concentration. "What happened? Where did all of this light cover from?"

"When I touched the floor it just lit up!" Harry shouted back.

"Don't touch anything, I'll be right down." Good to his word, Professor Snape was standing next to Harry within moments. With the lights on he was able to see his final destination, making his descent much easier. "We can't Apparate in here," he told him. "I just tried."

"I figured as much," Harry recalled Ron telling him about his trip to Egypt three years ago and how the Egyptians had put all sorts of curses and charms on the pyramids. And Bill worked as a curse breaker in Egypt, so to Harry it was only logical that Apparation wouldn't be possible within the temples.

"We'd better be on with it," said Harry, turning away from Snape and starting down the corridor. He knew that Snape fell in line behind him because of the sounds of his shoes on the stone.

The corridor didn't hadn't ended yet when both men stopped at looked up at twin statues on either side of the wall after walking fifteen metres or so. Harry glanced back at Snape, who was studying the identical women intensely.

"I think these are oracles," he finally told Harry. "They will judge us when we pass through."

"And what exactly will they be judging?"

Snape pointed down at the feet of the left one, and an inscription that made her different. Harry read the inscription several time until the hieroglyphs formed words in his mind and he said it aloud. "Em m ka nw rehew htp m mahr s-ph nw ba."

"What does that mean?" Snape asked.

Harry pointed at each symbol as he translated it for his unlikely companion. "In the heart of men lay the true intent of the soul." He looked back at him. "I suppose that means we must be pure of heart to pass through.... You might as well turn back now."

"Why you little--"

"Careful, Professor Snape, you wouldn't want to insult one of your students, would you?"

"As you so astutely pointed out earlier, I'm not your professor right now, and I'll do more than insult you if you continue to make snide remarks at me," he said coolly. "I'll go first, that way if anything happens to me you can still turn back."

"What difference does it make who goes first?" Harry asked impatiently. "Even if your head explodes, I'll still try." With that comment, Harry drew in a deep breath and cleared his mind of fear. He stepped between the two statues, his eyes focused on the path ahead. Nothing happened, so he proceeded forward.

Just as Snape was about to step through the path of the statues they turned, facing Harry's back. Harry sensed this and turned back to look at them in time to watch them become animated, springing to life as if they were two women trapped in stone.

Harry spun on his heels without control as a foreign force clutched him from within. His mouth opened to scream but instead a deep gurgle emitted. Snape tried to run to help him but was immediately met with the wrath of the woman standing on the left. Her fist hit him in the face with such strength he was sent straight to the ground, unconscious from either the force or the fall, Harry just couldn't tell.

"Who dares pass?" a resonating voice asked...actually, Harry was certain it wasn't one voice, but two voices, speaking in perfect synchronisation. He laboured to bring the source of the voice into view, finally finding the mouths of both women moving perfectly together. "Answer!"

"My name is Harry...Harry Potter," he struggled to offer an answer.

"What is it you have come here for?"

Harry felt his mind releasing his grip on consciousness. The tightness in his chest and throat was beginning to cause him to see tiny black spots; his vision was littered with them. Just before passing out he managed to utter one word: "Hope."