In Egypt 4/15
Title: The Camel or the Camel Driver
Characters: Tonks, Fleur
Rating: G
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Many thanks to my beta schemingreader *hugs*
Chapter Four - “The Camel or the Camel Driver
That was probably a little melodramatic, thought Tonks, but really, at this stage she hardly cared whether Fleur was working for the other side or not - all she knew was that Fleur was one of the most singularly irritating people that she had ever met.
“Perhaps because I am ze only one between us ‘oo knows where we are at zis moment?” replied Fleur, “and therefore ‘ow to get us out of ‘ere?” Her French accent thickening as she laid heavy sarcasm through every word.
Tonks wavered slightly. It was true that to apparate somewhere they did need to know their starting point for reference. She had no real idea where they were apart from a vague idea that it was somewhere in Egypt. Damn, damn, damn. The devious, untrustworthy, infuriating cow was right. She advanced on Fleur, wand tip pointing in her face.
“Hand over your wand.”
“My grandmother, she said that a sweet word is best for to open an iron door,” said Fleur reproachfully, offering it up.
“I don’t care what your granny thinks.” Tonks stowed Fleur’s wand safely away. “Just you do what I tell you. You’re going to show me where Bill’s dig site is.”
Three hours later, trudging over stony ground, trails of choking dust raised around them, and having breakfasted on an unappetising meal of transfigured belt, Tonks was reconsidering her options. Distances were deceptive in this heat-hazed valley and it was a lot further to the tomb than she had been led to believe. Tonks recast the anti-apparation ward around Fleur just as a shallow depression in the sand ahead resolved into a large freshly-dug hole with several gloomy entrances.
Fleur gestured at the excavation. “Voila. It is the tomb of Pharaoh Kruhetset the Second. But, look, the is no-one there now - the tents are all gone. They must be back at the office.”
Tonks poked a bit into the shadowy holes. They smelt dank and musty. She could feel dark magic tickling small hairs all over her body from unbroken curses still littering the air.
“BILL WEASLEY! BILL!” Tonks yelled a few times, but there was no reply.
Tonks hunkered down on the sand to give her tired legs a rest. What now? Using one sleeve to wipe the grimy moisture out of her eyes, she tried to think. On reaching up to her head, she discovered that her pink spikes had become completely plastered down with sweat. She stared down at her t-shirt. It had three huge, stiff, dark wet patches which were threatening to merge into one. Glancing up at Fleur, standing pristine and unruffled, her shiny silver hair catching an invisible breeze, Tonks finally gave into the gurgle of laughter that was beginning somewhere deep inside her.
“You are crazy,” commented Fleur, as if she had suspected it for some time.
Tonks let the last giggles trail away into the parched air and took a deep calming breath.
“Okay. So where is Bill’s office, then?”
“It is a few hundred miles from here. I can apparate us. It is not a problem.”
“Hah! No bleeding chance. You can draw a map. In the sand.”
Fleur shrugged again, bored. “Give me back my wand to draw with.”
Tonks laughed again. “Use your finger.”
Fleur touched the ground only with the greatest of distaste, but grudgingly drew a serviceable map. Meanwhile, Tonks secured the bag holding the glass lotus to one of the many straps on her combat-style trousers.
Wiping another salty trickle out of her eyes, Tonks dried the palm of her hand on the side of her leg. She held it out to Fleur, who regarded Tonks’s outstretched hand as if it were a particularly slimy Flobberworm.
“Grab on, Fleur,” said Tonks. “We’re going to apparate.”
Back in the chamber with the Hathor carvings, a hollow ‘pop’ sounded in the gloomy back room, signifying that someone had just apparated in. After searching the chamber and cursing bitterly, a second ‘pop’ echoed, this time against the rows of silently watching one-eyed gods and goddesses. Then all was quiet once more, except for the remote hiss of wind caressing the miles of barren sand outside.
The first attempt at apparation left Tonks and Fleur stranded in another stretch of anonymous, sharp-rocked infinity, only minus the distant mountains. Tonks released Fleur’s hand briskly and readied for possible attack. There was nothing. Just dust and simmering sand. Tonks magically scanned the horizon and found one tiny dot.
Their second attempt brought them within sight of a large temple. They managed to reach the entrance by the third apparation.
“Merci des fées! Finally!”
Fleur climbed between the monumental pillars into a welcoming shadow. Tonks followed as Fleur wound her way through the archways and statues like a woman with a mission.
“Where exactly are we going, Fleur?”
“My grandmother told me that you can either be the camel or the camel driver,” Fleur replied, confidently striding forward. “Now I think it is I who am the camel driver, no?”
I really have to work on my professional intimidation skills, thought Tonks. I shout at her, confiscate her wand, drag her halfway across a desert and all the fear I inspire is a comparison to her grandmother’s camel.
Despite the pace Fleur was setting, Tonks was noticing something peculiar about the temple’s extravagant decorations.
“Hold on a minute, Fleur… I’ve seen that before… hang on!… it’s over there as well… bloody hell, it’s everywhere!”
The symbol from the glass lotus was profusely strewn all over the walls, crowning the statues, even atop each pillar.
“That is not surprising. This is the Temple of Hathor. Ah, here we are.”
Fleur stopped abruptly at a bare wall, remarkable enough in its simplicity among the other ornate columns and decorated friezes. She pushed her sunglasses up so that they rested stylishly on her sleek hair and turned to Tonks.
“And now it is necessary for me to have my wand, if you please.”
“You must be kidding.”
“No, absolutely not. This is the entrance to Gringotts Egyptian office and only employees are keyed to enter.”
“Fine. We both hold your wand while you open it up. And in case there’s any funny business, just remember that my wand is aimed right in your face the whole time.”
Tonks was learning to read some of Fleur’s expressions. The one Fleur wore now while she reached out for her wand was the same as when she had earlier told Tonks, “You are crazy”.
Am I crazy? thought Tonks. What really lies behind this stone wall? And am I ready for it?
next part
Characters: Tonks, Fleur
Rating: G
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Many thanks to my beta schemingreader *hugs*
Chapter Four - “The Camel or the Camel Driver
That was probably a little melodramatic, thought Tonks, but really, at this stage she hardly cared whether Fleur was working for the other side or not - all she knew was that Fleur was one of the most singularly irritating people that she had ever met.
“Perhaps because I am ze only one between us ‘oo knows where we are at zis moment?” replied Fleur, “and therefore ‘ow to get us out of ‘ere?” Her French accent thickening as she laid heavy sarcasm through every word.
Tonks wavered slightly. It was true that to apparate somewhere they did need to know their starting point for reference. She had no real idea where they were apart from a vague idea that it was somewhere in Egypt. Damn, damn, damn. The devious, untrustworthy, infuriating cow was right. She advanced on Fleur, wand tip pointing in her face.
“Hand over your wand.”
“My grandmother, she said that a sweet word is best for to open an iron door,” said Fleur reproachfully, offering it up.
“I don’t care what your granny thinks.” Tonks stowed Fleur’s wand safely away. “Just you do what I tell you. You’re going to show me where Bill’s dig site is.”
Three hours later, trudging over stony ground, trails of choking dust raised around them, and having breakfasted on an unappetising meal of transfigured belt, Tonks was reconsidering her options. Distances were deceptive in this heat-hazed valley and it was a lot further to the tomb than she had been led to believe. Tonks recast the anti-apparation ward around Fleur just as a shallow depression in the sand ahead resolved into a large freshly-dug hole with several gloomy entrances.
Fleur gestured at the excavation. “Voila. It is the tomb of Pharaoh Kruhetset the Second. But, look, the is no-one there now - the tents are all gone. They must be back at the office.”
Tonks poked a bit into the shadowy holes. They smelt dank and musty. She could feel dark magic tickling small hairs all over her body from unbroken curses still littering the air.
“BILL WEASLEY! BILL!” Tonks yelled a few times, but there was no reply.
Tonks hunkered down on the sand to give her tired legs a rest. What now? Using one sleeve to wipe the grimy moisture out of her eyes, she tried to think. On reaching up to her head, she discovered that her pink spikes had become completely plastered down with sweat. She stared down at her t-shirt. It had three huge, stiff, dark wet patches which were threatening to merge into one. Glancing up at Fleur, standing pristine and unruffled, her shiny silver hair catching an invisible breeze, Tonks finally gave into the gurgle of laughter that was beginning somewhere deep inside her.
“You are crazy,” commented Fleur, as if she had suspected it for some time.
Tonks let the last giggles trail away into the parched air and took a deep calming breath.
“Okay. So where is Bill’s office, then?”
“It is a few hundred miles from here. I can apparate us. It is not a problem.”
“Hah! No bleeding chance. You can draw a map. In the sand.”
Fleur shrugged again, bored. “Give me back my wand to draw with.”
Tonks laughed again. “Use your finger.”
Fleur touched the ground only with the greatest of distaste, but grudgingly drew a serviceable map. Meanwhile, Tonks secured the bag holding the glass lotus to one of the many straps on her combat-style trousers.
Wiping another salty trickle out of her eyes, Tonks dried the palm of her hand on the side of her leg. She held it out to Fleur, who regarded Tonks’s outstretched hand as if it were a particularly slimy Flobberworm.
“Grab on, Fleur,” said Tonks. “We’re going to apparate.”
Back in the chamber with the Hathor carvings, a hollow ‘pop’ sounded in the gloomy back room, signifying that someone had just apparated in. After searching the chamber and cursing bitterly, a second ‘pop’ echoed, this time against the rows of silently watching one-eyed gods and goddesses. Then all was quiet once more, except for the remote hiss of wind caressing the miles of barren sand outside.
The first attempt at apparation left Tonks and Fleur stranded in another stretch of anonymous, sharp-rocked infinity, only minus the distant mountains. Tonks released Fleur’s hand briskly and readied for possible attack. There was nothing. Just dust and simmering sand. Tonks magically scanned the horizon and found one tiny dot.
Their second attempt brought them within sight of a large temple. They managed to reach the entrance by the third apparation.
“Merci des fées! Finally!”
Fleur climbed between the monumental pillars into a welcoming shadow. Tonks followed as Fleur wound her way through the archways and statues like a woman with a mission.
“Where exactly are we going, Fleur?”
“My grandmother told me that you can either be the camel or the camel driver,” Fleur replied, confidently striding forward. “Now I think it is I who am the camel driver, no?”
I really have to work on my professional intimidation skills, thought Tonks. I shout at her, confiscate her wand, drag her halfway across a desert and all the fear I inspire is a comparison to her grandmother’s camel.
Despite the pace Fleur was setting, Tonks was noticing something peculiar about the temple’s extravagant decorations.
“Hold on a minute, Fleur… I’ve seen that before… hang on!… it’s over there as well… bloody hell, it’s everywhere!”
The symbol from the glass lotus was profusely strewn all over the walls, crowning the statues, even atop each pillar.
“That is not surprising. This is the Temple of Hathor. Ah, here we are.”
Fleur stopped abruptly at a bare wall, remarkable enough in its simplicity among the other ornate columns and decorated friezes. She pushed her sunglasses up so that they rested stylishly on her sleek hair and turned to Tonks.
“And now it is necessary for me to have my wand, if you please.”
“You must be kidding.”
“No, absolutely not. This is the entrance to Gringotts Egyptian office and only employees are keyed to enter.”
“Fine. We both hold your wand while you open it up. And in case there’s any funny business, just remember that my wand is aimed right in your face the whole time.”
Tonks was learning to read some of Fleur’s expressions. The one Fleur wore now while she reached out for her wand was the same as when she had earlier told Tonks, “You are crazy”.
Am I crazy? thought Tonks. What really lies behind this stone wall? And am I ready for it?
next part