The silver-eyed horse hadn't just been a figment of the moonlight. As Allen watched, the creature's form began to ripple and distort, the elegant equine features elongating into something far more ancient and predatory. Its neck stretched, its legs fused into a powerful, serpentine trunk, and suddenly, a giant sea serpent was thrashing in the center of the Nile. It wasn't just swimming; it was claiming the river, its massive coils churning the water into a frothing, violent whirlpool.
"Ron, look at the size of that thing," Allen whispered, his hand going to his wand.
But Ron didn't respond. His eyes were glazed, fixed on the center of the churning water. A strange, glassy sheen had taken over his pupils.
"Gold..." Ron muttered, his voice hollow and melodic. "Allen, do you see it? The riverbed is paved with it. Huge, heavy coins... just sitting there. We'd never be poor again. I have to get it. I have to show Mum."
"Ron, stop! There's no gold!" Allen shouted, reaching out to grab the back of Ron's shirt.
But the strength that surged through the younger boy was unnatural. It was as if the river itself was pulling him. With a violent jerk, Ron broke free of Allen's grip, his feet hitting the sand with frantic speed as he sprinted toward the water. He didn't even slow down as the current hit his waist; he lunged forward, diving into the dark water with the grace of a professional swimmer.
"Ron! Get back here!" Fred and George's voices came from the shadows behind them, their joking demeanors replaced by sheer, unadulterated panic as they saw their brother vanish into the surf.
Allen didn't hesitate. He waded in after him, but the Nile was an unforgiving host. He was a decent enough athlete, but against a boy possessed by a Kelpie's siren call, he was hopelessly outmatched. Ron was moving like a loach, slippery and impossibly fast, his silhouette darting through the waves. Allen fired a Stunning Spell, the red bolt of light hissing as it struck a rising wave, missing Ron by inches.
The atmosphere shifted with terrifying speed. The dry desert air was suddenly heavy with a cloying, salty humidity. Above them, the stars were snuffed out by a wall of obsidian clouds that seemed to descend from the heavens themselves. Lightning flickered within the mass, illuminating the towering cumulus clouds that stacked up like a funeral pyre over the spot where Ron was swimming.
"We can't reach him!" George yelled, stumbling onto the bank. He didn't waste time. "Fred, help me with the wood! Transfigure!"
The twins worked in a desperate, synchronized blur, turning a pile of driftwood and debris into a crude, flat raft. They scrambled onto it, paddling with conjured oars toward the center of the river.
Allen, treading water and realizing the distance was growing too great, cursed his own lack of foresight. He didn't need to be a better swimmer; he was a wizard. Reaching into the expanded space of his storage charm, he summoned his Neptune broomstick. The polished wood slapped into his palm, and he kicked off from the water's surface, soaring into the air just as a bolt of lightning split the sky.
Below him, the scene was a nightmare. Ron had reached the monster. The Kelpie had shifted back into its horse-like form, its mane of weeds tangling around Ron's arms like reaching fingers. With a terrifying agility, Ron climbed onto the creature's back, his hands buried in the kelp-like hair.
The Kelpie let out a triumphant, bubbling shriek. This was its favorite part of the hunt. It would dive deep, dragging the "rider" to the rocky floor of the Nile, where the pressure and the drowning would do the work. Then, it would feed.
As the beast arched its back to plunge into the depths, Allen pushed the Neptune to its absolute limit. He was a streak of dark light against the gray storm.
Just as the Kelpie's head dipped below the surface, Allen swung the broom low, leaning out with one hand. He didn't go for a spell—not at this range. He delivered a sharp, focused punch to the side of Ron's jaw. The boy went limp instantly, his "possession" broken by the shock. Allen hauled him upward by his collar, dragging him onto the narrow frame of the broomstick even as the Kelpie's tail lashed the air where they had been a second before.
"Go! Get to the bank!" Allen roared at the twins, who were struggling with their raft in the surging waves.
The storm was now a full-blown gale. The wind screamed across the water like a battery of heavy cannons, and the river responded with ten-foot swells. The Kelpie, robbed of its prize, was no longer a shy river spirit. It was a primordial force of fury. It shifted back into its serpent form, its tail a massive whip that cracked against the water, sending plumes of spray fifty feet into the air.
Allen dropped the unconscious Ron onto the safety of the sandy bank and immediately pulled a sharp u-turn. He couldn't leave the twins. Their raft was caught in a downwind surge, spinning uncontrollably as the Kelpie circled them, its glowing eyes fixed on the two red-heads.
"George! Hold on!" Fred screamed as a wave washed over the flat boards.
Allen dived. He leveled his wand at the looming shadow of the serpent. "Stupefy!"
The spell hit the water, the energy dispersing harmlessly against the creature's thick, magical hide. The Kelpie turned its attention to the buzzing fly in the sky. It didn't just strike; it anticipated. As Allen tried to bank for another pass, the serpent's tail came out of the water like a falling tree.
The impact was sickening. The Neptune broomstick snapped like a dry twig under the force, and Allen was sent spiraling into the churning river. The broom—his partner through so many matches and adventures—was swallowed by the white foam, lost to the depths of the Nile.
"Allen!" The twins screamed in unison.
They paddled toward the spot where he had gone down, but the Kelpie was faster. It surged toward George, who was half-submerged as the raft began to disintegrate. The monster lowered its head, opening a maw filled with rows of needle-sharp teeth, ready to claim at least one soul from this botched hunt.
But Allen hadn't been defeated. He surfaced right beside the beast's head, clutching a jagged piece of the broken raft. In a flash of desperate magic, he performed a silent Transfiguration, the wood twisting and hardening into a heavy, reinforced leather bridle.
As the Kelpie lunged for George, Allen threw himself onto the creature's neck. With a strength born of pure adrenaline, he jammed the bit into the monster's mouth and snapped the bridle behind its ears.
The effect was like flipping a switch. The thrashing stopped. The violent waves began to settle. The Kelpie, bound by the ancient magic of the bridle, went suddenly, unnervingly still. It let out a soft, defeated huff, its eyes losing their predatory glow and becoming as dull as river stones.
A long, exhausted silence followed, broken only by the distant rumble of the retreating thunder. The three of them, soaked to the bone and shivering, slowly guided the docile monster back to the shore where Ron was starting to groan and stir.
"Allen... we're so sorry," George whispered as they stepped onto the sand, his voice thick with guilt. "The Neptune... it's gone. We know what that broom meant to you. We can't even begin to pay you back."
Allen looked at the dark water where his broom had vanished, then at the three brothers who were all alive and breathing. He let out a short, tired laugh.
"Don't be daft," Allen said, shaking his head as water flew from his hair. "I heard a rumor that a new top-tier model is coming out this year anyway. The Nimbus 2001, I think. I was looking for an excuse to upgrade. Out with the old, in with the new, right?"
"But it was a Neptune," Fred muttered, looking at the ground. "That's a fortune."
"And you're my friends," Allen countered, his tone leaving no room for argument. "That's a bit more valuable. Besides, we can't let this thing back in the river. It's got a taste for wizards now. It'll just wait for the next person to walk by."
They dragged the Kelpie and a very confused, jaw-aching Ron back to the villa. The house erupted in chaos. Molly Weasley's scream when she saw her four "drowned rats" and a giant water monster could have been heard in Cairo.
Once the story came out—mostly through Ron's garbled explanations and the twins' shameful confessions—Molly went into a whirlwind of maternal fury. She scolded the twins until they were physically shrinking, then turned to Allen with tears in her eyes. She insisted on paying for the broom, offering every galleon of their prize money and a lifetime of installments.
It took Allen nearly an hour to convince her that the broom was already "on its last legs" and that he'd been planning to bin it anyway. Eventually, she settled for forcing them all into hot baths and making them swallow a potion that tasted like liquid fire and old socks.
Half an hour later, the four of them sat in a row on the velvet sofa in the lounge. Thick, white steam was literally billowing out of their ears—the side effect of the Pepperup Potion.
They looked at each other, the sight of four steaming heads too much to handle. Simultaneously, they burst into fits of laughter that made their ribs ache.
"You really punched me?" Ron asked, rubbing his bruised jaw. "I thought a rock hit me."
"It was either a punch or a drowning, Ron," Allen smiled. "I figured you'd prefer the bruise."
"What are we actually going to do with it?" George asked, gesturing toward the garden where the Kelpie was tied to a sturdy stone pillar, looking like a very depressed pony.
"We'll leave that to Bill," Fred decided, leaning back. "He's an Unspeakable, he deals with weird magical stuff for Gringotts all the time. He'll know who to call."
"Exactly," George agreed. "Right now, I feel like I could sleep for a century. Pranking is exhausting work."
"If you hadn't started it, we'd be asleep already!" Ron grumbled, only to be promptly tackled into the cushions by both twins.
They eventually dragged themselves to bed, the exhaustion finally winning out over the adrenaline. The night ended in a deep, dreamless sleep, but the bond formed in the cold waters of the Nile was something that wouldn't wash away.
The next morning, the smell of fresh pita and honey woke them. When they finally stumbled into the dining room, rubbing the sleep from their eyes, they found the table covered in a feast—and a very unexpected visitor waiting for them.