See You in the Afterlife

Chapter One: Summer’s End

By Gemini

“Bill, you won’t get into any trouble, will you, dear? Owl if you need anything.  And do cut your hair soon.”

“Oh Molly...” But Mum glared at my father before he could go on.  He clapped me on the back affectionately instead.  “Just keep it clean, alright, son?”

“Of course he will, Dad,” replied Charlie for me, grinning.  “Can’t scare all the pretty Egyptian girls away with dirty red hair.”

I rolled my eyes at my family as they laughed at me.  “Just you wait,” I told them.  “One day you’re going to forget about it and just move onto something new. Maybe I’ll get a tattoo, or an earring.”

My family had come to visit me in Egypt for a month this past summer – they had won the Daily Prophet Draw – and had gotten a kick out of vacationing here.  I showed them all the sights I could: the Nile, the Giza Pyramids, the Sphinx… But what had amused them most were the tombs and death curses that were put on them, apparently.  Fred and George had continuously tried to lose Percy somewhere in the pyramids, but luckily Mum spotted them.  Pyramids weren’t to be fooled around with.  She gave them a harsh talking-to which subdued them, but only for a little while.  They deserved it though. Besides, they tried to put beetles in my soup.

“Goodbye Bill,” said Ginny. I bent slightly to wrap my arms around her small body. “Try to come visit for Christmas, okay?” she said softly among the busy sounds of the Portkey Station.

“I’ll do my best,” I whispered back.  She gave me a classic Ginny-smile as we parted.  Ginny and I had always been close despite our age differences and distance.  I think she found a bit of freedom in me, while I found her to be a great source of comfort among my younger siblings.  There’s more to Ginny than meets the eye, but the others didn’t see it yet, save Charlie.  He loved her just as much as I did, and the incident in her first year at Hogwarts threw us out of the loop.  The two of us liked to write to her often to make sure she was alright, and I think she felt a little safer from reading our letters so often.

Ron was next. “See you later, Bill. You’re so lucky to live here, you know,” he said wistfully.  “All those mummies and tombs and curses and…” Scabbers suddenly began moving around in his shirt pocket.  “Dumb rat,” he muttered, trying to calm the rodent down. 

“Bill, if you ever get the chance,” began George, “you must send us ideas for…” He broke off to glance at Mum, who was staring at him hawk-eyed.

“For school projects, of course,” continued Fred. He subtly elbowed George in the ribs for being so daft.  “Egyptian curses are so fascinating. I could write a few essays on ancient Egyptian curses, particularly the temporary ones that probably got a lot of laughs.”

Pretending I didn’t get the hint, I replied, “Well, if you’re really that interested in Egypt, I suppose I could send you a few books on its history and government and the like. I’m sure you’ll benefit from reading about how the Old Kingdom, the New Kingdom and all those intermediate periods in between. One can learn a lot from analyzing the old form of Egyptian government.”

I ignored their crestfallen faces as Percy came up to me, sporting a shiny new Head Boy badge.  He was the second one in the family, and had a lot to live up to, if I do say so myself. 

Percy stuck out his hand, saying, “Thank you very much for the tour, Bill.  I hope the rest of your summer is just as interesting.”  I grinned and enveloped him in a hug, much to his squawking protest.

“Congratulations on achieving Head Boy, Perce.  I’m sure you’ll be just as good as I was.”  He stalked off, readjusting his glasses and pushing his souvenir fez back on straight, but I saw a slight twinkle in his eyes before he turned away.

Charlie said his goodbyes at the same time I did, as he was scheduled to be leaving later that day to go back to Romania.

“Excuse me, excuse me!” A man was running up to us as people Portkeyed in and out along the platform.  He wore business robes, and had a camera dangling around his neck.  “I’m a stationed reporter for the Daily Prophet; are you the Weasleys?”

“That we are,” said Dad, stepping up front.

“Well, the Prophet wanted me to take a photograph of all of you, if you don’t mind. Publicity for the contest, you know.” 

We obediently crowded together at the edge of the platform with the Great Pyramid in the background.  The younger ones stood in the front; Ron stuck his arm around Ginny as Scabbers climbed up to his shoulder.  The camera shuttered and clicked as we waved. 

“Brilliant!” exclaimed Ron. “I can cut out the photo at home and send it to Harry. Maybe it’ll cheer him up.”  The Boy Who Lived was Ron’s best friend.  I almost had a heart attack when I first heard. It wasn’t everyday your younger brother became friends with one of the most famous people in history.  In fact, Harry Potter was the person whom I would thank for stopping the war that waged misery on my family.  I won’t though; I’m sure he gets enough attention and wouldn’t want any more. I feel quite sorry for him at times, in fact.

“Thanks very much for your time, Mr. Weasley. Did you have a good vacation?” asked the photographer, fiddling around with the camera case.

“Er, it was very worthwhile,” Dad answered.  He stared at the photographer, who was apparently a journalist as well, taking notes with a Quick-Quotes Quill. 

Dad answered a few more questions for the journalist so he went away satisfied.  Finally, the Station Manager shouted out, “Egypt to Luxembourg! Egypt to Luxembourg! Eleven o’clock!”

I gave Mum and Dad a hug one more time before they Portkeyed out to Luxembourg, where they would later go through the same method to get to London.  They all put their hands on the old boot that the Station Manager held out, and chorused their final goodbyes as they were whisked away.

Charlie and I stood for a few moments, in the silence that one finds after one’s family leaves.  He would be leaving in a few hours, at three in the afternoon. 

“Ready to go for lunch?” I asked. 

“Let’s go.”  We walked down the platform and out of the Portkey Station, which was a little to the west of Cairo and protected by a strong Muggle-Repelling Charm.  Here, wizards could Portkey in and out without being seen by prying Muggle eyes. 

The two of us Apparated into El Aziz Square, the local wizarding centre much like London’s Diagon Alley.  We appeared on the pavilion, where the Apparition points were set up.  Charlie followed me as I led him through the sweltering sun to Tikka, one of my favourite cafés. 

What I loved most about Egypt, and never tired to see after years, were the sights.  The earthy tones, the simple colours - this was where we all came from, long ago. Not necessarily Egypt, but the desert land and brown earth.  Egypt was a place of history, our history.  The sounds and movements of the people within it today echoed ancient Egypt itself: bazaar vendors, the steam of food, and cheerful children playing in pavilions. 

Charlie followed me as I walked through the open doorway of Tikka and sat down at my usual spot.  “What’ll it be today, Bill?” Adila, one of the regular waitresses there, sidled up and smiled at me and Charlie. “Oh, has your family left already?”

“Just a few minutes ago actually,” I answered. “Charlie’s leaving in a few hours.”

“I see,” she said. “Have a safe trip home, Charlie. It was nice seeing more than one red-haired man each day. Will you come visit again soon?” 

“I’ll try my best, though the dragons might keep me back.”

We gave her our order – two savoury fiteer – and she went off to inform the chef.  Tikka was a bustling place, with many regular Cairo wizards and a few from the Gringotts internship program, which was where I was from.  After my first two years serving as an international intern from England, I applied for a real job there like many of my friends from the program.  Since Gringotts was a worldwide bank, it didn’t matter where we were from, as long as we could do the job.  Besides, we worked behind the scenes, leaving the goblins to deal with the customers and vaults. Our jobs were more interesting anyway.

I was placed into the Curse Breaking Office, which was just where I wanted to be.  Roaming all of Egypt, researching curses on old tombs, it was almost like being an archaeologist.  Of course we have a bit more danger in our field, what with the hazardous spells and charms that the ancient Egyptians invented. From the curses we found, we could tell they were a crazy bunch. Randomized hexes, perfectly executed charms and the long-forgotten mathematics involved only proved that they were very intelligent as well.

Adila came back with two dishes of fiteer, a stetchy and flaky dough crust topped with coconut, ghee, and other bits and pieces that were probably lying around in the kitchen waiting to be used. 

As Charlie and I ate, we talked.

“Do you really think Ginny’s going to be okay?” he asked.

“She’d have done something by now if she wasn’t.  You know her like I do; she’s a tough kid.”

“I know, but…” He frowned. “You-Know-Who’s old diary? That’s something that would give any kid nightmares, I’m sure.”

“If something was wrong, Mum or Dad would have told us by now.  Besides, if we just keep writing to her, she’ll know we care.”

Charlie nodded.  “You write this week, and I’ll write the next. Owl me if you can’t, and I’ll fill in your week.”  We shook hands on our newly formed plan, Operation Keep-Ginny-Happy.

“Poor girl,” he continued. “Living with Fred and George must be a pain. I mean, we had to do it for awhile, but we were older, hence scarier.”

“She’s got Ron, I guess.”  We both mulled over an image of a temperamental Ron defending Ginny.  “Percy too.”

We finished lunch and left a few sickles on the table. Adila waved to us as we left, and blew a kiss at Charlie.

We dallied in El Aziz Square a bit longer, killing time as we waited for three o’clock to roll around. Charlie picked up some last minute souvenirs for his dragon-taming friends in Romania, and bought a fez for himself much like the one Percy had gotten.  He put it on his head jauntily. “What do you think? Does this make me look smarter?”  The overly large, bright red fez clashed horribly with his hair and the tassel fell into his eyes.

“If by ‘smarter’ you mean ‘silly’, then yes.”

We Apparated back to the rented house that the rest of the family had been staying in. I could not, and would not have wanted to, host eight more Weasleys in my shared flat. Instead, I found a small villa-style house that they could rent for a month.  Besides, they had enough money from winning the draw, and it was only nice to be able to travel and live in style for a month. 

After gathering all of Charlie’s suitcases and souvenirs, we Apparated back to the Portkey Station with them.

“Take care, Bill,” he said.  He set down his luggage and we hugged each other. 

“Have fun chasing dragons,” I called to him, as he stepped onto the platform.  The Station Manager waited for the rest of those due to travel to Bucharest, Romania before Portkeying away.

“You have fun with those curses,” he said, grinning. “I’ve heard the ancient Egyptians were a crazy bunch.”

I waved as he Portkeyed out. I actually enjoyed having my family visit me in Egypt, since none of them had ever actually come before. It was always me and Charlie going back to England, though last year Mum and Dad went to visit him in Romania for Christmas. 

I Apparated back into the El Aziz Square pavilion, and made my way to Gringotts. I waved at the goblins, who all ignored me, and made my way behind the counter and into the offices. 

“Bill! You back from dropping off the family?” Neil’s cheery voice echoed across the hall. I saw him poke his sandy-haired head out from one of the doorways.  Neil Finnigan was always in a good mood, and his smiling face peered out at me as I approached.

“They’re all gone now,” I replied. I stepped into his office, which was like stepping into a Zonko’s gone wrong. He somehow managed to decorate his half with all sorts of bright garish colours by charming the walls blue, leaving piles of coloured paperwork here and there, hanging his robes on various pieces of furniture. It reminded me of Ron’s interestingly orange room back at the Burrow.  Unfortunately enough, the Gringotts supervisors didn’t care what we did to our offices as long as it wasn’t permanent.  Michelle Lavallée, Neil’s office partner, did care.  Her efforts at trying to keep their office clean did not go unnoticed, as her side was nicely organized and all of her work and tools were stacked neatly on her desks and cabinets.

“It was great meeting them all,” he continued, grabbing some papers from his desktop and stuffing them into a drawer. “And amusing to see red hair everywhere I looked.”  Neil was one of my housemates, and he found it entertaining to have eight more Weasleys walking around the flat every so often.

“Salut Bill!” Michelle walked into the office hauling two canopic jars under each arm, gave Neil’s side of the room her trademark look of disgust, then gently set the jars down on her desk.  She was followed a moment later by my own officemate, Sophie Li.  Sophie was carrying a small but obviously heavy stele. 

I gave her a hand, taking one end of the stele, and helped her set it gently on the floor by Michelle’s desk.

“What do you need all this stuff for?” asked Neil curiously, peering over his desk.

“Michelle decided to kindly volunteer her time for the boss,” answered Sophie, rolling her eyes.  “Karei needed to get some archiving done, so Michelle’s stuck with the analyzing.  She just wants to get on her good side, you know, so she’ll give her a raise.”

“I do not,” huffed Michelle.  “I… I thought Madame Bashir would simply appreciate a token of my kindness.” But her explanation failed to satisfy Sophie. 

We left Michelle and Neil’s office and walked further down the hall to our own.  We opened the door (“Sophie Li; Bill Weasley; Curse-Breaking Division”) and entered.

Our office was less eccentric than Neil’s half, which I was greatly thankful for.  Sophie and I managed to work out a nice method of an organized mess.  We each knew where our supplies were, which report was sitting in the corner, and also worked out an efficient method for watering the plants: I do it every three days whenever she reminds me, though why she doesn’t do it herself is beyond me. Women.

“How did your family enjoy Egypt?”

I sighed. “It was a great break for them.”

“Good,” she said, sitting down at her desk.  “They’d have to be idiots to not appreciate Egypt.  Your mother’s an excellent cook as well. She took me right back to China…” Her eyes glazed over as she remembered when my mother decided to cook dinner for my siblings and my housemates, Neil and Sophie, and made a Chinese dish that was finished off within minutes. Sophie was from the Shanghai Academy, the school of magic in China.  She transferred to the Gringotts in Egypt around the time I did.  “And,” she continued, tying back the black hair that fell to her shoulders, “your brother Charlie kept making passes at me. He told me all about the dragons in Romania.” 

I laughed. “That’s Charlie alright. His mind is never on anything else.”

“Oh, I need you to do something for me… Can you take a look at this? It’s the report of the curse  we broke in that mastaba last month.  I included the reports of the excavation later, but I want to make sure all the details are there.  I’m sure I’ve gotten them all, but it wouldn’t hurt for you to check.”  She handed me a stack of scrolls so heavy that I almost stumbled.

“Sophie, are you sure you wrote enough?” I joked.

She ignored me, reached below her desk and pulled out another large stack. “Here’s the rest,” she said with an unimpressed look.  She began to organize her desk, disregarding my situation completely.  Sophie was known around the department not only for her good looks, but her way of working. Often when I was out at Tikka with her and Neil and Michelle, men would approach her thinking she’d be an easy catch, but they were often surprised in the end when she ordered them and made them pay for all of our meals.  It amused me and the others to no end, especially when she waved them away with a perfectly manicured hand.

As I sifted through Sophie’s work, an owl flew in bearing a scroll with a familiar letterhead.  

“New assignment?” asked Sophie. “Finally.”  She wasn’t very good at sitting still either.

I read the letter out loud to her:

Attention: Miss Sophie Li; Mr. William Weasley;

Due to a recent incident, the Department of Curse-Breaking requires your presence in the current Sphinx excavation.  Further details will be given tomorrow, and the Department requests you do not speak of this to your coworkers or friends. 

You are required to attend a meeting tomorrow on the Giza plateau before going onto the regularly scheduled working hours. We will meet at half past seven in the morning; please be prompt.

Sincerely,

                     Karei Bashir

Department of Curse-Breaking, Head of.

“The Sphinx?” Sophie frowned. “That’s strange.  Have they found something new?”

“I hope so…” I reread the letter. “She says, ‘the current Sphinx excavation.’  Does she mean they’ve already started digging?”  The more I tried to figure it out, the more I was confused.

We sat in silence, mulling over the idea of what the current dig was.  The Sphinx had stood silently for ages, but no one had yet been granted permission to dig beneath the paws. Politics played into this little game. No one could go in, nothing could come out, and we eager Egyptologists impatiently waited to be given the cue.

The Muggles knew there was something about the Sphinx too, though not as much as we do.  It was so ancient and considering what they had discovered of it so far, its mystery wasn’t broken. And there was a mystery. Ancient Egyptian wizards weren’t the most skilled wizards in history for nothing.

Curse-breaking was always limited to old dusty tombs and mastabas, where there was little adventure. Occasionally someone would get struck by a vicious curse but that’s not so much an ‘adventure’ than ‘Get him to the medi-witch!’  But the Sphinx was rumoured to have more wards and charms than any other tomb so far uncovered, even that of Tutankhamun. The Ministry of Magic tried to cover it up and keep it safe from Muggle inspection, but a few secrets had slipped through.  Yet, wizards still tried to break through tombs. The history of our magic was very much stemmed from Egypt’s buried treasures, and the search for its secrets. 

We knew the Sphinx held secrets. Hell, we knew the Sphinx could very well hold The Secrets. The secret of how magic came to be, what magic is, and why some of us have it and some of us don’t.  All the wizarding archaeologists vied for the discovery, and the Ministry kept its mysteries as secret as possible from the Muggle world.

The Sphinx was every curse-breaker’s dream, and could very well be our nightmare.

~ * ~