"Hey, don't say it like it's my fault!" Bill immediately retorted, his face lighting up with the excitement of someone whose passion had been acknowledged. "That's what life's about! Besides, this time is different!"
"We'll see." Douglas chuckled softly. "Just don't make it like last time. You swore you'd found a modern wizard's tomb. We spent half a day breaking in, only to find it emptier than your pockets. Just a mummified cat that hissed at us."
Bill didn't mind the reminder of that failure at all. He latched onto something else instead. "Why my pockets?"
Douglas grinned. "My pockets? You really wanna compare?"
"Ha!.. Nobody can compare with you. Your pockets are like that magical creature you mentioned—got everything in them… But I'm telling you, this time is absolutely, positively different! Guaranteed!"
"Alright, eat first." Douglas picked up a piece of mutton with his chopsticks and placed it in Bill's bowl. "We'll talk after you show me tomorrow."
They ate, chatting about recent trivialities.
"Speaking of which," Bill said, swallowing a bite of mutton as his tone shifted. "Charlie's been acting strange lately."
"Charlie?" Douglas paused, chopsticks in mid-air. "He's got his eye on another rare breed of dragon?"
"No." Bill shook his head, his expression turning more serious. "There's some big movement in Romania. Charlie wrote a few days ago. Said the dragon reserve went into its highest state of alert. All leave cancelled. Seems they're prepping for some secret project. He was vague in the letter, just hinted it might involve the Ministry."
Douglas felt a flicker of recognition. He remembered Dumbledore's words before he left, about potential changes to teaching next term. He did the math. The Triwizard Tournament. That was probably it.
"Did he say what, specifically?"
"No. Just told us not to worry and not to ask. You know him. The vaguer he is, the bigger the deal." Bill sighed. "My guess? Some uncontainable beast is being shipped over. Or… they've bred something serious themselves."
"Don't worry," Douglas said, eating another piece of mutton. "I suspect it's related to Hogwarts."
"Forget him." Bill shifted to a lighter tone. "So. Italy. All settled?"
He asked casually, like he was asking about the weather. But the concern in his eyes was more earnest than any interrogation.
"Settled." Douglas was concise. He set his chopsticks down, wiped the corner of his mouth slowly with a napkin, then looked at Bill, a meaningful curl at the edge of his lips.
"You know," he said, drawing it out, enjoying the curiosity blooming on Bill's face. "You're always going on about discovering amazing things in Egypt." He paused for effect. "I brought a little souvenir back from Italy myself."
Douglas reached leisurely into his pocket and produced the golden Snitch-like sphere. He placed it gently in the center of the table.
A soft thud as it rolled half a turn and settled.
A soft, sacred golden light instantly spilled forth, dyeing the dishes on the table in a holy hue. The lights in the apartment seemed to dim, all illumination drawn to the small orb. At its heart, the light-forged monster was frozen forever in a mask of ferocity and shock.
Bill's gaze was nailed to it.
"Merlin's beard…" He leaned forward instinctively, eyes wide as saucers, his face a picture of the stunned, obsessive fascination a professional curse-breaker shows when facing a top-tier magical artifact. "This… what level of alchemical creation is this? The energy signature… it's impossibly stable!"
"A little religious trinket." Douglas said it offhandedly, tapping the golden sphere with a fingertip, watching the light-monster inside wobble.
"A trinket?" Bill's voice cracked. "What church uses this as a trinket? This thing…" He stopped abruptly. His head snapped up. He stared at Douglas, hard, his eyes filled with disbelief. "Your souvenir… where did you souvenir it from?"
"The Vatican." Two words, flat as saying 'Diagon Alley'. "I imagine they're rather missing it right about now."
Bill's mouth hung open. He was frozen for a full five seconds. Then, like a full-body bind had been lifted, he threw himself back in his chair and burst into roaring, earth-shaking laughter.
"HAHAHAHAHA… I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT!" He laughed, pounding the table, tears threatening to spill. "Douglas, you madman! You went to deal with the werewolf problem! How did you manage to nick their holy relic on the side?!"
"Be precise with your words." Douglas corrected him with mock seriousness. "It's lost property. I'm considering putting a notice in the Daily Prophet. Title: 'Lost: One Glowy Bauble. Contains Screamy Monster. Contact Professor Holmes, Hogwarts.'"
"Don't! For Merlin's sake, DON'T!" Bill was wheezing with laughter. "They'd send a whole squadron of Templars to discuss the retrieval with you! Merlin… you are… I yield!"
He laughed until he was breathless, looking at Douglas with that complex mix of 'how did I end up friends with this lunatic but I'm so damn proud of you.'
A grade-A flex.
The laughter echoed in the apartment, washing away the gloom of tombs and the grit of battle.
"Get a good night's rest." Bill's laughter subsided. He looked at Douglas, his gaze earnest and brimming with anticipation. "Tomorrow, I'm taking you somewhere. A place… even Gringotts' archives can't find."
He slept soundly.
Cairo's morning held none of London's damp mist. The sunlight was dry and direct. Golden beams cut through the gaps in the curtains, painting bright trails on the dark carpet. Dust motes danced in the columns of light.
Douglas woke to find Bill already up.
The living room was tidy. Last night's plates and glasses were cleared, only a faint trace of wine scent lingered as proof of their hearty conversation.
Bill stood in the middle of the room, his back to Douglas, stuffing items into a worn leather tool bag. He'd changed out of his casual clothes into professional gear. Khaki multi-pocket trousers, a pair of high-top desert boots. A fitted black T-shirt under a leather vest hung with small hooks and clasps. His long hair was still tied back, looking efficient and sharp.
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