Unfamiliar territory
The days stretched on like an unbroken line, each one blurring into the next under the heavy weight of Cairo’s heat. The four boys—James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter—had settled into a routine of sorts, but the undercurrent of tension was palpable. They didn’t belong here. Severus had made that clear in a dozen small ways, his sharp eyes observing every move they made, his cold, clipped tones a constant reminder that they were strangers in a foreign world.
Today, the sun had climbed high in the sky, beating down on the narrow, winding streets of their temporary refuge. They were still in Severus’ cramped apartment, still trying to adjust to the strange customs and unfamiliar language of Egypt. Their host had been uncharacteristically quiet for the last few hours, his head buried in a new set of textbooks—more medical notes, it seemed. His presence loomed over them like a shadow, an unspoken command to behave, to adapt.
“Do you ever leave this place?” James asked, his voice heavy with the boredom that had settled over them like a second skin. He sprawled on the small sofa, his feet resting on a pile of textbooks that were, to him, a mystery.
Severus didn’t look up from the stack of papers he was scribbling on. “What’s the point?” His voice was sharp, as always, but there was a weariness to it that James hadn’t noticed before. “You lot will only make things worse.”
“I don’t know about that,” Sirius chimed in, glancing around the room, “But I’m not exactly thrilled about being cooped up in here like a bunch of lab rats. We’ve been here for days now, Severus. You’ve got to teach us something. At least show us the ropes or something.”
Severus’ dark eyes flicked up from his work, narrowing slightly as he regarded Sirius with something that could’ve been disdain—or perhaps amusement. It was hard to tell with him.
“There’s nothing to teach,” Severus muttered, standing up and folding his papers with careful precision. “You’re British, they’ll know. No matter how hard you try to fit in, you’ll be spotted. Egyptians don’t tolerate outsiders acting like they belong here. So, for your sake, you’d best learn to keep your mouths shut and your eyes open.”
“Lovely,” James muttered under his breath. “Guess we’ll just sit here and wait for the inevitable then.”
Severus shot him a sharp look. “Complaining won’t help. You’re here because you need to be, and I’m doing my best to keep you alive. The sooner you accept that, the better.”
They all fell into an uneasy silence after that, the weight of their situation pressing down on them once again. Even Peter, who usually had something to say, seemed to shrink back into himself, clearly out of his depth. None of them had ever imagined they’d be stuck in a foreign country, unable to leave, with no idea of when—or if—things would go back to normal.
But the silence didn’t last for long.
Sirius pushed himself off the chair and headed for the door, a familiar restless energy taking over. “Alright, Severus. You’ve made your point. But I’m going for a walk. Can’t stand being cooped up in this room all day.”
“No,” Severus snapped, his tone suddenly dangerous. “Don’t go outside. It’s not safe for you.”
Sirius glanced back at Severus, raising an eyebrow. “And you think hiding in here is safer?”
“Yes,” Severus responded coldly. “If you step foot outside, you’ll attract attention. You won’t even realize it, but they’ll know. It’s not the same as in Britain. People here notice everything. And they don’t take kindly to foreigners, especially British ones.”
Sirius hesitated, his eyes flicking to the door again, then back to Severus. For a moment, the two of them locked eyes, the tension between them thick enough to slice through. Neither spoke, but both understood that this wasn’t just about following rules. It was about survival.
James sighed, rising from the couch. “Fine. I’ll go see what’s in the fridge.”
The conversation was over. The boys slowly scattered, each retreating to their own corner of the apartment to try and pass the time. James, ever the optimist, tried to focus on the small victories—like finding a tin of beans in the tiny fridge—but the heavy silence still clung to the air. It felt wrong to be stuck here, in a place that wasn’t their own, with someone they had once made their enemy.
Remus was the first to speak again, his voice quieter now, almost contemplative. “I don’t think I realized how different it would be here. I mean, I knew it wouldn’t be the same as home, but…” He trailed off, eyes drifting to the small windows that looked out over the crowded street below.
“I think you’re the only one who’s surprised,” Sirius said from the couch, tossing a cushion behind him. “You knew we’d be stuck here for who knows how long. The sooner we get used to it, the better.”
“Easy for you to say,” James grumbled. “You’re not the one who has to keep looking over his shoulder every time someone walks by.”
Severus’ voice sliced through the conversation like a blade. “Then you better start learning how to act like you belong here,” he said from across the room, his back turned to them as he adjusted the stack of textbooks on his desk. “Because if you don’t, you’ll be dead before the week’s out.”
The bluntness of Severus’ words hung in the air like a dark cloud. James swallowed hard, knowing full well that Severus wasn’t joking. The reality of their situation hit harder now. The Death Eaters had found their trail, and even though they were in Egypt, hiding, they weren’t safe. Not yet.
“Alright, so how do we blend in then?” Sirius asked, his usual bravado slipping as he turned to face Severus.
Severus took a deep breath, turning slightly to face them, his dark eyes intense. “Start by learning how to dress like you’re not foreign. You’ll wear what everyone else wears. And you’ll speak their language. No excuses. The more you stick out, the sooner they’ll find you.”
“What else?” Remus asked, eager to understand more.
Severus paused for a moment, considering their faces. “There’s no room for mistakes here,” he said, voice low and measured. “You’ll need to act like you’ve lived here your whole life. Mimic the accents. Learn the manners. There’s no ‘excuse’ for being British here. Trust me. If you want to survive the summer, you’ll do everything I say.”
The four of them nodded in silence, the weight of his words settling over them. For all their bravado, for all the jokes and easygoing nature they liked to hide behind, they were out of their depth now. The summer was just beginning, and it was already clear that it would be unlike anything they’d ever faced before.