Romancing the Sorcerer's Stone

Chapter 13: Golden Snitches

June 2001 — Giza Pyramids, Egypt

"These are fantastic!" Harry exclaims. "And they built these by hand?"

Malfoy doesn't look up from his staring contest with his camel. "For the most part," he says absently. "There were wizards back then, too, you know. The mages we were talking about earlier. They mixed with muggles more back then and so naturally helped with some of the construction."

He gives the rope holding his camel one last tug, then strides forward. "Stop gawking, Potter. We can take a tour later. Right now we want the seventh pyramid." He waves his hand vaguely to the right of the pyramid Harry's been staring at and completely ignores the informational signs, hopping over the barrier and heading around the side of one of the smaller pyramids.

Harry rubs the back of his neck. "Er, Malfoy," he says hesitantly.

"What, Potter?" Malfoy turns and regards Harry with annoyance.

"Well, it's just that..." Harry rubs the back of his neck again, unsure how to phrase it.

"There's only six pyramids, Malfoy," he says finally, settling on blunt truth.

Malfoy looks up at the pyramids, startled, and then sniggers. "These are the muggle pyramids, Potter. We're after the wizarding entrance."

"Er, there's a difference?" Harry studies the six pyramids again doubtfully.

"Just come on," Malfoy says. "Obviously, they wouldn't want muggles finding it. Remember that temple in Peru? Same thing. There's the muggle section," he taps one of the blocks on the side of the pyramid, waves his wand in a complicated squiggle, muttering something under his breath, and then grins as another pyramid shimmers into being in front of him. "And then," he continues, voice brimming with satisfaction, "there's the wizarding section."

He gestures Harry forward. Harry follows him through the suddenly visible door, still frowning.

"Harry," Malfoy says, exasperated, "who do you think designed these pyramids? You don't think muggles did, surely. And remember that mage war we were talking about earlier? There's a rich history of wizards in this region. I'm beginning to think you didn't pay attention to a single History of Magic lecture."

Harry glances sheepishly at him. "Well.."

Malfoy rolls his eyes. "Luckily, I did pay attention, and I've done my research for this trip. Just follow my lead, Potter, and you'll be fine."

June 2001 — Giza Pyramids, Egypt

"Well, how was I supposed to know the bloody thing was booby-trapped?"

"Malfoy," Harry says, rubbing his forehead wearily, "We've been chasing hints of this scroll for years. You've been studying it for years. How could you not know?"

"I'll admit that there were a few small gaps in my knowledge, but—"

"Small? Small? Malfoy. You were nearly beheaded. I was nearly eaten by bloodthirsty beetles. We were both nearly impaled, suffocated, drowned, crushed, and sealed into a tomb for a thousand years, and you say they were small?"

Malfoy purses his lips. He's probably trying to find a flaw in my argument, Harry thinks, amused despite himself.

"Well, all right, I will admit that —"

"Good job, boys."

A rich, honey-smooth baritone floats down to them as they approach the tunnel's entrance, still bickering. They freeze.