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Chapter 3

When Farida was done with her coffee, she and Newt stood up, readying themselves to leave. Farida walked over to Marco, and put her hand in her pocket, bringing out some coins and counting them carefully. Newt had a feeling that this was all she had with her. He wanted to pay, though he didn't have much money himself, but he wasn't sure how Farida would react to that. The last thing he wanted was to make her feel embarrassed or offended.

Luckily, Newt saw Marco shake his head when Farida tried to hand him the money. Farida, however, kept on insisting as Marco continued to refuse to take anything from her. Finally, Farida gave up, and that earned her a kind smile from Marco as he waved goodbye at her and Newt.

It was completely dark when they got out, save for the faint light from the few gas lamps flickering in the alleyway. The weather of early November had a cool breeze to it, which didn't bother Newt as much as it seemed to bother Farida. Her body became noticeably tense as if suspended in an incomplete shiver the moment the air had hit her face.

"Is it fine if you apparate?" She stretched out her arm to Newt. When she saw the small grimace of his face, she added, "First time is always the worst, but after that your body starts to get used to it."

Newt was still reluctant to the idea of undergoing the unpleasant experience of wandless apparition again, but he had no other choice to make. He caught the sleeve of Farida's linen coat, making sure to avoid the the slightest contact with the skin of her hand, then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

The tornado swallowed Newt again. The world around him twisted and twirled, a dense cloud of dizziness blindfolding his brain until he was back on a solid ground. He gasped for breath, his eyes open at last to see nothing but an array of blurry figures. He blinked twice, and his eyes began to adjust to their new surroundings by bringing them into focus. He was standing in front of a small building, dizzy and thankful that he kept his stomach empty as the nausea was even worse.

"I disagree," Newt said weakly. "Second time is definitely the worst."

"That's strange," Farida remarked. "But you won't have to do it again if we find you a place to stay. Now come on."

Newt shambled after her into the inn, where a clean-shaven young wizard sat behind a desk. He gave them a broad smile, though the way he glanced at Farida's clothes contradicted his welcoming demeanor. Farida ignored it, or perhaps she didn't notice it at all, but at least Newt did and it filled him with an upsurge of disgust.

Farida rested her arms upon the desk and said something to the wizard, then she indicated Newt with a gesture of her head. Newt didn't understand a word, but he assumed that she must have asked if there was a vacant room. The wizard shook his head, giving Newt in advance the gist of the spoken answer that followed: no, there was not.

"I'm sorry." Farida turned to Newt. "He says that all the rooms are full. But don't worry, I know other places, so let's go and check them out."

Not worrying became easier said than done as the time wore on without a glimpse of hope that Newt would find a bed to sleep in. All the places that Farida knew turned out to be fully booked, so they extended their search to include any hotel or inn that encountered them, but still with no luck. Newt thought that looking for Atlantis would have been an easier task.

The only positive thing was that their quest didn't require any Apparition as lodgings seemed to take up a specific district with only a few places outside that territory but not too far from it. Farida explained that the Egyptian Ministry of Magic deemed it easier to conceal the areas occupied by wizards if they weren't scattered and far-between.

"Conceal them from the Muggles?" Newt asked.

"I don't know what that means," said Farida, "but they want to conceal us from El Tanyeen — the Others — that's what we call the non-wizards."

"We call them Muggles."

"And do you hide yourselves from them, too?"

Newt nodded. "Mostly, yes. Because of the International Statute of Secrecy we can't perform magic in front of them, and we can't let them know anything about our world. But we can marry them and befriend them if we want. What about Egypt?"

"There's no law that says you can't marry or befriend one of them," said Farida. "But I don't think that many of us would want to do that. The death of Hypatia is still remembered after all those years. It was the reason many of us initially went into hiding way before the Statue of Secrecy. And also there are the descendants of the Ennead who are too full of pride to marry anyone that doesn't have a noble blood, let alone someone who doesn't have magic at all."

That reminded Newt of the concept of blood purity which some wizards were obsessed with. "I guess there are bigots everywhere. We too have our share of them."

"Oh you have no idea. Even on the other side, you'll find bigots among the... what did you call them?"

"Muggles?"

"Muggles. That's a funny word." Farida chuckled. "But anyway, yes, Muggles. You'll find bigots among them, or else how do you explain the wars they get themselves into? And I don't think they are fond of us, either. At least that's my experience with them."

"So are you against hiding from them?" Newt asked, trying to make the question sound casual to cover the intent behind it. He was afraid that Farida might turn out to be one of Grindelwald's fanatics.

"What sort of fool would be against it?" Farida said with a slight scoff at the possibility. "Except, of course, that man with the strange name everyone is talking about nowadays."

"Grindelwald."

"Yes, that one. He lost me when I read that he murdered people. I mean, if that's how it is now, then what will happen when are no longer hiding?"

Newt was relieved to hear Farida's opinion regarding the matter. Before he could utter something in response Farida had come to a halt in front of yet another inn and said to him, "Let's see this one."

"You know, I'm beginning to believe that my presence is what's jinxing us," said Newt. "I'll wait for you here."

Farida laughed as she pushed the door open and disappeared behind it. Newt glanced at his wristwatch only to discover that they had been in the streets for almost an hour and a half. His legs were sore, but that didn't matter to him. All he could think of was his creatures and how hungry they must be.

"I am sorry, everyone," he whispered, squatting beside the suitcase. "I'll get to you as soon as I can."

A minute later Farida came out, and Newt looked up hopefully at her. She shook her head and said nothing, then she and Newt heaved a sigh at the same time.

"Forget about wizarding places," Farida said at last in a tone announcing defeat. Newt too had lost all hope. "Do you have any Muggle money with you?"

"No, I don't," Newt answered. "Just Galleons."

"You'll sleep at my house, then," said Farida. "It's not really my house, and I'm not sure if calling it a house is the best way to describe it, but I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all." Newt was willing to overlook how suspicious that sounded for the sake of ending that long night. "But do we have to apparate again?"

"Yes, unfortunately."

Newt's face fell. He made to clutch Farida's sleeve but stopped midway when she broke into laughter.

"I was joking." Farida's gaunt face was wearing a broad grin. "It's only a five-minute walk from here."

Newt couldn't help but chuckle as he followed Farida again. The two didn't exchange many words on their way, which gave Newt the chance to notice the  transformation occurring in the architecture around them. As they trod on, the exterior of the buildings underwent a gradual change from being painted with shimmering colors and adorned with pharaonic inscriptions to bespeaking nothing except for neglect and the eroding effect of time.

Even the streets got quieter and quieter, until Newt found himself in a deserted, narrow one where the echoes of their footsteps was all they could hear. Newt took a look at the few houses there only to find some of them in wrecks, while the others that weren't destroyed were charred and blackened with what could have been nothing but fire. There was no sign of a human life, and it wasn't surprising, yet Newt felt cold for the first time that night when he thought about their previous presence and what sort of end it had met.

"What happened here?" he asked quietly.

"A fire back in 1890," said Farida, her voice bearing an evident note of sorrow. "I wasn't even born then, but from what I was told, it was horrible. A crazy man who knew how to create Cursed Fire... no one can put an end to that, unfortunately."

Newt swallowed and tried hard not to imagine any gruesome details.

"That's where I'm staying." Farida changed the topic by indicating a two-story house on Newt's right. It was the least affected by the flames, and perhaps the only one that had an intact door. She rummaged through her pockets and brought out a key before heading towards it.

The door opened with a click, and Farida entered immediately. Newt on the other hand was a little hesitant. He craned his neck to find out what to expect on the inside, and when he saw nothing but darkness he drew his wand and cast Lumos.

The tip of Newt's wand was now ignited, and its bright light gave him enough confidence to go into the house. Farida's face was full of admiration as she gazed into the illuminated wand. But then as if remembering something of great importance, she outstretched her hand slightly in front of her, then murmured something hardly audible. A wisp of light rose from her palm and disappeared like smoke, marking the beginning of Newt's turn to be intrigued. But Farida didn't look satisfied by that; she repeated what she did twice with the same result, and it wasn't until the fourth attempt that a ball of light was floating steadily above her extended fingers.

"That's the first spell we learn at Iunu," said Farida with a bitter smile. "And I still don't know how to do it properly on the first time."

"It's natural for many of us to face some difficulties, even when it comes to easy spells." Newt comforted her. "I can't for the life of me do any magic without a wand, so what you did is in fact very advanced."

"You know, Newt, wandless magic here is like Arabic," Farida responded. "Arabic is only difficult for those who don't speak it. So imagine living your whole life in Egypt and somehow you realise that you aren't able to speak its language as good as you should. Now that would be bad, right?"

"That's true. But it wouldn't make you less worthy of being Egyptian."

"Maybe." Farida shrugged, then gestured towards the staircase separating the two floors. "Anyway, you must be tired, so let me show you where you'll sleep."

In the light of his wand and of Farida's hand, Newt saw that the staircase was dusty and almost had no banister except for a few odd wooden pieces randomly placed along its length. As he walked towards the staircase, a quick, involuntary glance to his right showed him an open door leading to a dimly-lit room. That must be where Farida slept. He then averted his attention to the stairs as he began to climb after Farida. He surely didn't want to trip on the debris that lay scattered at his feet. It was truly a mess.

And if Newt thought the staircase was a mess, then the room he was introduced into proved to be a disaster. The walls were stained and cracked, and the windows were covered by perforated rags that had once been curtains. There were fragments of glass in every corner of the room, and the floor was a sea of misplaced or broken furniture and more debris. Newt wasn't a very organized person himself, but the sight truly startled him. How could anyone live there? He tried not to let the shock show on his face because he didn't want to make Farida feel bad. She probably was magically unable to clean it up. He decided he would offer to help her in the next morning.

"Home," Farida said, clicking her tongue.

"I like it," said Newt.

"You're too bad at lying, do you know that?"

Newt turned to Farida to reply, but as he did so, his suitcase hit something of which Newt didn't become aware until he heard a loud crash. It was a bowl, and what the suitcase collided with was a strangely lopsided table.

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Newt pointed his wand at the bits of china. "I'll fix it. Reparo."

"No!" Farida almost cried but it was too late. The bowl was now as good as new.

Next moment, Newt heard a terrible screech pierce his ears. A figure of a man appeared out of thin air, nearly giving Newt a heart attack. He was hovering above the ground, his bearded face contorted with pure rage, then with a sudden force he flew towards the ceiling and punched it with his clenched fists, sending down a shower of powdered cement as he continued to scream. Newt couldn't understand what the Poltergeist was shouting, but the fury in his words was so clear that part of Newt thought it was better for him not to ask.

Farida shook her head in frustration, and yelled back something in Arabic at the Poltergeist. He stopped punching the ceiling and turned to her, brandishing his hand threateningly. In no time, they were engaged in a heated argument, giving Newt a minute to realize what he had done wrong that infuriated the Poltergeist.

"Farida, how do you say sorry in Arabic?" Newt asked hastily.

"Asef," Farida answered without looking at him. "But don't apologize to that idiot. He needs to behave."

Apologizing, however, seemed like the right thing to do. Newt cleared his throat, bringing the attention of the poltergeist to him, then uttered the word which Farida had said.

"Mesh kefaya!" The poltergeist spat with malice.

Newt looked cluelessly at Farida and she was quick to translate.

"He says it's not enough. Told you he is an idiot."

Newt thought for a second, then picked up the bowl which he had repaired and smashed it by throwing it at the wall with all his might. The result was instant; the poltergeist's screams turned into joyful cackles, and his expression was no longer angry. He saluted Newt with a wave of his hand, then disappeared.

"I'm sorry about that," Farida said wearily. "Marzoo cares so much about keeping the whole street as destroyed as possible, and whenever people from the Ministry come to fix anything, he attacks them, so in the end they stopped coming."

"And of course he doesn't let you clean up, either."

"That's right. He's the reason I live in this mess, but I'm not complaining."

"How did you gain his trust?" Newt wondered. "Poltergeists are very hard to control." With an inner smile, he remembered Peeves.

"It took a lot of breaking things to show my loyalty, and some shouting to get along. But you see, he's not that bad. He was kind enough to let me live here when I had no other place to go... those were some horrible days. But anyway," Farida struck her hands together, as if driving off the bad memories with the ball of light that had just vanished, "I'll leave you now. There's that couch over there for you to sleep, but if you don't like it, then use your wand to make something more comfortable. You can do it, right? And if you need anything, I'll be downstairs. And don't worry about Marzoo, I will tell him to stay away from you."

"Thank you, Farida," said Newt genuinely. "You've done a lot for me and I don't know how to repay you."

"Don't be silly. You saved my life."

Newt looked at her and smiled. "I hope you feel better now."

"I hope you do, too." She gave him a meaningful look. "We both need to feel better, don't we?"

"Perhaps." Newt shrugged and hoped she wouldn't ask him anything about that subject.

"Well then. Good night, Newt."

"Good night."

When Farida had left and closed the door behind her, Newt wasted no time in putting his suitcase on the floor and opening it.

"Here I come, my friends," he whispered before disappearing into the suitcase where his creatures were impatiently awaiting his return.

***
Author's note

Thanks for reading. A little fun thing I want to clarify is that "asef" means "sorry" if the speaker is a male, but if the speaker is a female then she should say "asfa." Also, "mesh kefaya" does mean "not enough" in Egyptian Arabic, which is different from Standard Arabic and the other dialects.

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