Although the old man's story was fascinating—and he even reminded Dawn that the Carter family had people in Egypt—Dawn had no real interest in those counterfeit protective amulets.
Ignoring the old man's look of regret, he turned and walked away.
It was now about two in the afternoon.
Dawn planned to find a camel and head back to Cairo for a while. He wasn't in a hurry to start exploring. His plan was to first study the Egyptian script.
And, according to the tavern owner, the only branch of Gringotts in Egypt was located right in Cairo's city center.
Merchants who provided transport for round trips needed to gather enough passengers before setting out, so by the time Dawn returned to Cairo, it was already past six in the evening.
Fortunately, Gringotts was open 24 hours a day.
Following the directions the tavern owner had given him, it was easy to spot the dazzling, golden facade of Gringotts among Egypt's low, flat-roofed houses.
After a moment's thought, Dawn transfigured himself a hooded robe once again, pulling the hood low to cover his face. This way, Egypt's Gringotts wouldn't connect him with the British branch.
He pushed the door open.
The goblins in Egypt looked exactly the same as those in Britain—sallow-grey skin, long pointed fingers, seated behind their desks with their heads lowered over some unknown work.
Dawn approached one of the counters and poured a heap of gold onto the desk. His voice was raspy as he said, "Exchange it for wizarding currency."
"Oh, of course, esteemed sir. Old Gurna will see to you at once!"
Blinking against the golden gleam, the goblin's face spread into an exaggerated grin. Sweeping both arms around the pile, he gathered it greedily into his arms.
After a short exchange, Dawn learned that the Egyptian wizarding currency also came in three types.
From highest to lowest value, they were the Gold Sun, the Deben, and the Kait.
The exchange rate between the Gold Sun and the Deben was 1 to 19.
The rate between the Deben and the Kait was 1 to 22.
To be safe, Dawn decided to exchange half his gold into Egyptian currency and the other half into British currency.
The goblin pinched a monocle between two fingers, holding it up to his eye as he carefully analyzed the gold's composition and weight.
Dawn waited idly, and his wandering gaze landed on a rack of newspapers nearby.
It held a dozen papers from different countries.
He walked over, pulled out the British edition, and saw that it was today's Daily Prophet.
[Murder and Escape! The Most Dangerous Eleven-Year-Old Wizard in History!]
As expected, the Daily Prophet still had him splashed across the front page.
Compared with last time, this edition even included his photograph—he had no idea where they had managed to take it.
[Emergency Notice from the Ministry of Magic!]
[The wizard Dawn Richter, who cruelly attacked Harry Potter, has now, after once again ambushing and killing his own Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, been confirmed to have escaped the castle!]
[The Ministry has activated full-scale tracking spells and deployed an Auror task force around Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, and the vicinity of Hogwarts to ensure everyone's safety]
[In addition, any wizard who can provide information on the fugitive's whereabouts will be rewarded with 500 Galleons, jointly sponsored by the Ministry and the Avery family!]
Seeing the words "Avery family," Dawn let out a quiet, derisive hum.
The Prophet had not mentioned that he might head to France. It seemed the Aurors had not yet gone after his father.
He kept reading.
The second article was by Rita Skeeter, but this time she had turned her aim on Dumbledore.
[Cover-Up? Obstruction of Justice?]
[What is going through the mind of Hogwarts' greatest headmaster?]
[Given that Dawn Richter escaped only because Dumbledore blocked the Ministry, the author cannot help but wonder—
Was the Dark Lord who terrorized Britain eleven years ago also nurtured under Dumbledore's guidance?
Could it be that this trusted white wizard is using such shadowy methods to seize fame, fortune, and influence over the wizarding world's decisions?!]
As always, her writing was filled with distortion and inflammatory suggestions.
Dawn guessed it was either the Minister, Cornelius Fudge, or certain governors of the school who had paid her to write it.
He turned the page.
[Heir to the Longbottom Family Publicly Declares Dawn Richter Innocent! Is This Empty Grandstanding, or Sheer Foolishness?]
Beneath the headline was a large photograph.
It had been taken in the Great Hall.
Neville stood with his fist clenched, speaking loudly. Around him, people had pulled back, forming a clear gap—some looked indifferent, some astonished, others openly disgusted.
"Neville…" Dawn stared at the picture, feeling a mix of emotions.
"Sir, I've finished counting. Here's the currency you requested."
The goblin was now placing coins of gold, silver, and bronze onto the counter, counting them several times to make sure there was no extra before announcing it loudly.
Dawn snapped out of his thoughts, sliding the newspaper back into the rack.
Hiding his hand in the wide sleeve of his robe, he picked up the coins one by one and left Gringotts.
Forget it—better to focus on the immediate matter and find a place to stay for the night.
.....
Night had fallen.
Dawn felt a wave of drowsiness.
He closed his book, turned off the lamp, and lay down on the bed fully clothed.
The quiet atmosphere was the perfect lullaby. With the blanket pulled up, his breathing soon settled into a steady rhythm.
A cloud drifted over from afar, veiling the moon and stars, its cool touch soothing the heat of the day.
A soft breeze stirred the sand with a husky whisper, sweeping it along to tap against the white-painted window of the inn.
Slowly…
The night seemed to grow restless.
Clatter—
Something in the room seemed to have fallen and shattered on the floor.
Crack—
Overhead, the building's materials expanded and contracted with the night chill, producing sharp, marble-like pops.
A cabinet scraped across the floor.
Metal clicked together.
The creak of wooden boards pressed underfoot brushed past his ear.
Dawn's once-relaxed brow slowly furrowed. His drifting thoughts were being dragged back to wakefulness, until he suddenly opened his eyes wide.
In the instant he became fully alert—
A strange stillness filled the space. Sounds he would normally ignore now rang out unnervingly sharp.
A musty, decaying smell spread through the room.
Something's wrong!
The thought hit him at once.
Instinctively, he grabbed his wand from the bedside, rolled off the bed, and pressed his back to the wall, eyes narrowing as he scanned the room.
The rumpled bed.
The desk piled with books.
A picture frame with a drawing of a pyramid.
And then—
His pupils shrank sharply.
The door to his room was open!
By the small points of light from certain appliances, he saw a withered, bony hand reaching in from outside, gripping the doorframe tightly.
"Who's there?!"
He meant to ask—but before he could—
Half a dark face slid into view past the doorframe, peering in like a spy, eyes glinting faintly in the gloom.
°Lumos°
Dawn snapped his wand upward.
A bright, rounded orb of light floated up to the ceiling, dragging the stranger's face into the glow.
Dawn froze for an instant.
It was a face unlike anything he had ever seen—covered in short black fur, with a protruding muzzle, and a pair of tall, sharply pointed ears atop its head.
The face of a jackal!
Creak—
The floorboards groaned again.
The hand gripping the doorframe tightened, the shoulder rolling forward, and the rest of the body stepped into full view.
It was a humanoid figure with the head of a wolf, a ribbon tied around its neck, a short skirt at its waist, a long spear in its left hand, and a set of scales in its right.
"Anu…bis?" Dawn's eyes widened.
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