Chapter 2. How did Latin work?

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the Mummy.

A/N: There's one thing that bugs me about the Medjai how can a group of people generations upon generations old that has seen and experienced the power of the Egyptian Pantheon for themselves, go and worship Allah or indeed any other religion that excludes them maybe that is why the gods never give them a break. So they will worship the old gods here.

Upon reaching Hamunaptra, Ardeth was able to work out why the resurrection ritual seemed muddled "How in the name of Ra did some twice damned fool manage to use Latin of all things"

Putting that thought aside he tried to summon his brethren in general as his short – ranged spell had come up short "Follow thy sacred mark, find your brethren" He incanted swiftly grasping the hilt of his sword, the results filled him with confusion and then rage he didn't detect the Medjai mark anywhere, but he was getting echoes of a corrupted form from somewhere in England "Why does it also end up being England" he mused before realising he really needed to catch up on events both magical and muggle as he had come to realise that the only way Latin would work is if an additional magical source most likely a wizards core was added to that of the curse, plus he really needed to know why there was a dark and corrupted version of the sacred mark of the Pharaoh's guard in circulation especially as the complex spell required was lost to all but the elders.

So naturally he went to the Wizarding Library of Alexandria, were he learnt of the dark forces prevalent in England distinguished by a strange tattoo on their forearm, just as the Order of the Medjai used to have, and he began to despair knowing that the only way his brothers would have helped such evil was if someone betrayed them meaning they were likely all dead, yet as he read on he learnt of how a small boy had defeated their leader this 'Dark Lord', bringing an abrupt end to their wave of terror. It was almost as if the gods had blessed him that Halloween night twelve years ago, yes perhaps all was not yet lost. He had decided his course of action, he would find this Harry James Potter and offer his aid, train him in the arts of the Medjai, destroy the creature and vanquish this Dark Lord. That said he quickly apparated to the old O'Connell Mansion as it was the most familiar English place to him. He felt a flash of sadness when he saw the dwellings destroyed state. He had a strange fondness for the muggles strong enough to defeat one of Egypt's most powerful curses not once but twice it still amazed him that they didn't have a drop of magic in them and he had to admit he still had a certain preference for that blessed Thompson of Ricks, but this was no time for reminiscing he had to get to Surrey where his tracking spell would lead him to a more precise location.

He couldn't use magic as he was unfamiliar with the area and he wasn't getting on that thrice damned Knight Bus he had heard rumour of since his first bus ride during Imhotep's second rising he had vowed never to get on the contraptions again, after all there was nothing quite like the undead to put you off something so it was between a taxi or walking it seemed, quickly hailing the first available car, he requested that the driver take him to Little Whinging in Surrey whilst using a little mind magic to insure the distance wouldn't be questioned, roughly two hours later he finally arrived at his destination only to realise in his haste that he hadn't thought to obtain the local currency luckily he was able to conjure some without the driver noticing him.

Suddenly he gripped his sword tighter and his eyes narrowed as his finely tuned magical senses detected a powerful field of blood magic, in his experience there were very few positive uses for such a dark art, and most of those were mere parlour tricks certainly nothing as powerful as what he felt and why did he have the foreboding feeling that the one he seeked was right at the centre of it.

He needed to find Mr. Potter and fast, he made his way to this Number four, Privet Drive. Praying to any of the listening gods that he wouldn't find what he suspected correct, after a short while he reached the fabled home of The – Boy – Who – Lived to see a barred window and feel enough hatred to make him want to retch he now knew what the blood magic's purpose was it was a keyed hatred curse and he suspected magical suppression charm which would certainly fit what he had read about Harry being a mediocre student yet being able to manage enormous feats of advanced magic near the end of the year when the curses effects would be at it's lowest, mystery solved for the moment he approached the door wondering as to what he would find and hoping that for once he wouldn't have to fight...