Chapter 1 - Welcome to the Jungle

"Bem-vindos ao Aeroporto Internacional Eduardo Gomes em Manaus, o Coração da Amazónia" a melodious female voice announced over the intercom. The words sounded like music, but they exploded inside James' head and pierced his brain like shards of glass, as he struggled to wake up.

"Welcome to the Eduardo Gómes International Airport in Manaus, the Heart of the Amazon Rainforest" the same voice in a sugary English accent repeated the information.

People around him were taking their seat belts off and getting up and picking their luggage from the overhead compartments. He couldn't even open his eyes. His head felt as if it was about to split open in two. His eardrums were ringing with a chilling sound that pierced his brain. This kind of flying wasn't for him. He preferred flying the traditional way, with brooms and not in giant metal cages that defied all laws of gravity, including magical ones.

He vaguely remembered being seated on his grandfather's knee, listening to him explain how the wings of airplanes did something to the airspeed that allowed them to fly. Or was it something about the pressure being lower below the wings that did it? He hadn't paid much attention to the explanation. Even if he had, he doubted he would have understood or even remembered it. He had been what? Four or five years old? It felt like a lifetime ago.

He decided to open his eyes and saw that most of the other passengers were still picking their luggage and queuing to get out of the plane as fast as possible.

"Aren't we leaving?" he asked.

"Not yet. It's too crowded on the aisle. Let them go first. We're not in a hurry".

James looked to his uncle, who seemed to be enjoying himself while reading, for what must be the tenth time, the in-flight magazine. While in his fifties, Bill remained the image of cool with his long red hair, with some wisps of grey, tied in a ponytail, and his dragon fang earring. Even the scar on his face, a souvenir left by a vicious werewolf in a darker age, gave him the seasoned look of an adventurer that had lived through enough stories to fill a book.

"I hate flying like this," James complained again. "Why didn't we use the normal way to travel? Our way?"

"As your grandfather," said Bill patiently, "will tell you, time and again, there's value in knowing how to travel like a muggle. You never know when it might come in hand."

"I know that. And I get it. But being stuck in planes for over a day is not really a great experience. My head feels like it's going to explode, and my ears are ringing."

"Here, let me help with that."

Bill got up, and under the pretense that he was putting his jacket on, pointed his wand to James and murmured something. Immediately the pressure on James' head subsided, and the ringing noises on his eardrums disappeared.

"Thanks. That's much better."

"Now, we better go. The plane is almost empty."

Bill got up, threw James' luggage to him before picking up his bag. Each man carried a simple bag. Compared to the regular transatlantic travelers, they were under-equipped in terms of cases and bags. Although, to be honest, James thought, most of those passengers on the plane didn't have extension charms on their bags.

Going through the airport corridors, James was fascinated by all the technology muggles used to get by without magic. It was not his first time in an airport, and he wasn't from a traditional wizard family that shunned all things muggle. Quite the opposite. But he still felt as if it was a completely different world. The digital display systems with all the flight's numbers, hours, and points of destination and origins fascinated him. He chuckled, trying to imagine his grandfather Arthur in a muggle airport.

Bill was already at the end of a very long customs line when he caught up with him.

"Grandfather would love it here."

"Yes," said Bill. " I don't doubt it. I took him flying with me once. London to Dublin. Just enough for him to ride an airplane. Big mistake. Couldn't keep quiet, asking everyone how planes flew and how everything worked."

James laughed so loud people stared at him.

"That is great and all, but I still don't understand why we needed to come here by plane."

"Magical ways of traveling between countries are a bureaucratic nightmare. First, we need to get a permit and notify everyone where we're going. Not the best option if you want to maintain your travel private."

"And are we?" asked James. "Keeping it private, I mean. Isn't this work-related?"

"Not exactly. At least not for Gringotts."

"I see..." James paused, thinking he should ask his uncle what he really wanted to know.

"So," he decided to risk it, "if we're not here in a job for Gringotts, what are we here for?"

"We're here to explore," James emphasized the last word. "Take it as a sabbatical leave for academic and professional purposes and curiosity."

"To explore what? Are we here on the Order's request?"

"Shh shh," Bill told him. "We might be in another country and in a muggle airport, but it's best to keep some things quiet."

"Sorry, uncle Bill" James answered peevishly.

"That's fine. It's natural to be inquisitive. All good curse breakers are. Add to that our family inclination to be involved in all kinds of mysteries and secrets; it's natural to be curious. I'll explain everything later," he said reassuringly.

The line moved slowly to the front, where a portly middle-aged man in a uniform was checking everyone's tickets and passports. James noticed that the process was quick for some, while for others, the man took his time and, on two occasions, called someone on a telephone. On one occasion, three other guards, younger, muscular, and more menacing looking, arrived at the place and escorted a young woman to some rooms nearby. Bill explained this was the procedure when someone suspected of smuggling illegal products was identified.

It was their time to pass the customs checkpoint. They approached the booth with their tickets and passports in hand.

"Bilhetes e passaportes por favor." The man wasn't even looking at them.

"Hi," said Bill jovially. "Here they are," handing him both sets of tickets and passports.

The man's head went straight up when he heard Bill speaking English.

"Americanos?" he asked.

"What? Sorry, I don't speak Portuguese very well." Bill answered.

"Oh. A-mé-rí-cá-nush?" the man asked, prolonging the words and speaking louder as if that helped them understand better what he was saying.

"No." Bill had caught the meaning of the question. "English."

"Inglês. Ok," the man smiled, giving him a thumbs up. "Arsenáu, best team, yeah?"

Bill looked puzzled to James to see if he knew what the man was talking about. James didn't have a clue of what that was all about.

Bill decided to go along with the man.

"Yeah," he said, trying to sound convincing.

"I love Arsenáu" the man continued, not even looking at their papers or seeming to have any interest in validating them.

Bill smiled, put his hand to his right pocket, and quietly removed his wand. Then, pointing it under his coat to the man, he whispered.

"Confundus."

The man's eyes went slightly out of focus for a brief instant. He then shook his head as if trying to ward off a fly and processed their papers without asking anything else.

"Aqui está. Próximo" he shouted to the back of the line while giving Bill their papers.

James and Bill passed the checkpoint as quickly as possible without drawing attention.

"What happened to stay private?" asked James, grinning.

"Sometimes, we need to improvise. Hadn't the foggiest idea of what he was talking about. Better not to waste time or get anyone else involved. Come, my friend Eduardo should be waiting for us."

Compared to the London airport from where they started their trip, the Manaus airport was tiny. There weren't a lot of people waiting for other passengers. Still, James saw a lot of hugging, kissing, and smiles among the people gathered here.

"Bill," a dark-skinned man shouted from the crowd while putting a hand up and waving at them. Although he was younger than Bill, James noticed that his face seemed more lined as if he had endured more hardships. But he had a friendly face, a broad smile, and bright eyes.

"Edu" shouted Bill, leaving his bag to James carry and walking to greet his friend.

The two men gave a tight embrace showing how deep their friendship was, even though they hadn't seen each other for years.

"How's everything? How are the girls?" Eduardo had the same musical tone of voice James had started to identify as Brazilian, but almost no accent.

"Everyone is great. What about you? Decided to settle down?" Bill asked with a grin on his lips.

"Nah," dismissed Eduardo. "You know me. It's all about samba and Carnaval".

Stolen story; please report.

Bill gestured for James to approach.

"Edu, this is my nephew James. James, my old pal Eduardo Melo. He worked with me in Egypt a couple of years back."

"A couple of years," Eduardo laughed. "A decade ago, more like."

"Is it already? Time passes..."

"So this your nephew from which of your brothers?"

"From my sister, Ginny."

Eduardo's eyes bulged in surprise, but he quickly shrugged it off.

"Ah... so you're the son of Ginny and Harry Potter?"

James was used to this. Every time people knew who his parents were, questions followed, and the expectations rose. It wasn't easy being the son of one of the most famous people in all of the wizarding world. The fact that his mother was also an international sports celebrity didn't help either.

"Yes, sir. A pleasure to meet you," said James stretching his hand to shake Eduardo's.

"Nice to meet you too. Please call me Edu. Everyone does. Come, the car is in the parking lot outside."

Eduardo and Bill went ahead, chatting about families, work, and life. Stuff that older adults do when they reach a certain age. James continued to follow behind, more interested in watching the muggles all around him. Seeing how they behave was fascinating. Although, of course, he knew more about muggles and their way of leaving than the majority of wizards, his age or older, because his parents, and mostly his grandfather, made sure he knew. But it was a different thing altogether seeing them in real life.

Everyone seemed to be attached to a small device they carried around everywhere. A smartphone, it was called. An instrument they could use to contact other muggles, research things on something called "internet," play games, and share photos, including moving pictures, something that wizards had been doing for centuries, but that still fascinated the muggles.

James was amused by it. So much so that he didn't see they had reached the doors to leave the airport. But, even if he had, the shock of the breath of hot air that embraced him once the doors opened wouldn't be less disturbing. It was hot as he had never felt before. He had been in the desert of Egypt but in the cold season. Here in Manaus, the air made his mouth and nostrils dry up.

It wasn't only the heat that made him uncomfortable. As soon as he stepped out of the cool air vented by the airport air conditioning system, his clothes started to glue to his body as if they had a permanent sticking charm put on it. Walking to the car in the scorching sun was painful. He was eager to get to the vehicle and protect himself from the heat.

Eduardo's car was old. The best compliment James thought he could muster was that it had four wheels and seemed to be functional, although it was doubtful it would remain like that for much longer. Some of the lights were broken, and the paint had clear rust marks all over. For the looks of it, it sooner would break into pieces than roll down the street. Eduardo put their bags in the trunk and gestured for them to enter. Despite his misgivings about the car, James didn't wait to be told twice.

Accustomed to all the ways wizards had to disguise themselves and their belongings, James couldn't help but be surprised every time he encountered one of the ingenious ways they manage to fool muggles. And here was one of those times.

The inside of Eduardo's car was as different from the outside as possible. The car had more space than what one could expect from a regular vehicle. Everything felt and smelled brand new. A juice machine on the back seat was already working and distributing a fresh, and quite tasty, juice that James gulped in one draught, immediately refilling his glass. Clean, comfortable, and with the ideal temperature, there wasn't any other place that James wanted to be at the moment, especially after spending more than a day traveling by plane and stuck in airports. He sighed in relief.

"Comfortable?" asked Edu.

"Yes," he nodded.

"I bought this car almost 25 years ago. I tweaked it a little, as you can see. Inside and outside."

"Outside?" asked Bill. "You seemed to skip a few spots of painting."

Eduardo laughed.

"This is Brazil", he said. "You don't want to travel around in a nice car unless you want to be robbed. So, better lay low and be as unassuming as you can possibly be. No one wants to rob this car. And so, I don't have to bother myself with that."

"Nice thinking," said James.

"Thanks. Now, try and relax. You both must be tired from the flight."

James let his head hang back and closed his eyes, trying to get some rest, maybe enter a dreamless slumber while Edu drove through the city. He noticed that the car had a noiseless spell on it that didn't allow the rumble of outside life to disturb the passengers. James was slightly annoyed by this. He counted on the noises from the streets to nurse him to sleep. Without the background noise, James tried to concentrate on his thoughts. After a minute or so, he gave up as a bad job and spent the rest of the time staring out of the window, not really seeing anything as the car slithered through traffic jams with ease.

The journey was quicker than he expected; a bonus from all the magical spells Eduardo placed on his car, that allowed it to jump lines in traffic and fit through spaces James was sure no muggle car would be able to. Not without causing some damages. He noticed that, whenever they reached an interception, green lights would appear letting them continue their journey. So what would take at least half an hour on a good day was only 10 minutes for Eduardo's shabby-looking car.

"Here we are," said Eduardo with a smile on his face.

Eduardo lived in a favela, a type of slum that thousands of people called home near the river. The shabby look of the houses didn't shock James. The Burrow, his grandparents' house exterior, wasn't that far from what he was seeing. What surprised him was the number of houses stacked together in a way that reminded him of a house of cards, ready to fold at the slightest of touches. He thought that thousands, or tens of thousands, of people must live here. Poverty, something that he never experienced for himself, wasn't an alien concept for him, but never had he seen it on such a scale.

"Come," said Bill, gently guiding him with a hand on his shoulders.

Eduardo guided them to a house just on the edge of the water. The house stood on top of a platform of wooden stakes, driven into the river floor. The walls were brick red, as Eduardo clearly never took the time to paint them, while the roof was a grey metal sheet. Looking up, James saw that the houses rose, on atop of the others, to the skies. Most were grey or had the brickish tone of Eduardo's. But here and there, a touch of color burst into life. A vivid green, a bright blue, or a lively orange called for his attention. A statement of individuality in a sea of sameness, or the colorful spirit of the Brazilians materialized on the walls of their misery.

James was transfixed for a moment, not realizing that his uncle and their host had already gone in. Then, putting his sack on his shoulder, he followed them. On the inside, Eduardo's house was pretty much what you expected to see from the outside, a single room that appeared that someone had forgotten to finish building. There was no paint or wallpaper on the walls, revealing the concrete and bricklayers that held them together in their nakedness. The floor was also made of concrete, with some mismatched rugs scattered around. A single couch, visibly worn, was placed in the center of the room, facing a window towards the riverfront, below which lay an old tv set placed on top of some old cardboard boxes. There was a bed, or what passed as one, a closet with a broken door, some kind of a stove and kitchenware, and not much else.

"Welcome to my humble house," said Eduardo in a theatrical way, waving his arms and bowing. "It's not much, but feel free to make it yours while you are here."

"It's perfect," said Bill, letting himself fall on the couch. The squidgy noise it made, made James think that some kind of colony of insects was just exterminated. "I claim the couch," he said, grinning.

"Well, as the bed is mine, you can have the floor, James. Hope that's not a problem?"

Eduardo was looking at him with a genuine smile. James hesitated before answering.

"Sure. That is fine," he said in a thin voice and sat on one of the rugs.

The two older men exchanged complicit looks before bursting into laughter. When they finally controlled themselves, Eduardo beckoned James towards the wardrobe with the broken door.

"Come in," said Eduardo before disappearing into the darkness that was the inside of the wardrobe.

Tentatively, James followed. He was sure there wasn't any danger and that Eduardo didn't have any creature hidden there to attack them. But a couple of years working as a curse breaker alongside his uncle had embedded into his mind a continuous sense of alertness about any dark places or corners where danger may lurk unexpectedly.

As soon as his foot passed the threshold, the wardrobe's interior lit up, revealing a spiral staircase to a lower floor that James was confident wasn't visible outside the house.

The contrast couldn't have been more evident. While the top floor was bare to the minimum, James found a modern apartment filled with top-of-line furniture and appliances. There was even a giant television screen mounted on the wall.

"I see you upgraded." James looked up to see Bill coming down the stairs with a massive grin on his face.

"Don't take it personally," he said to James. "Edu pulled the same trick on me the first time I visited him. This Is part of his welcoming policy."

"Guilty as charged," Eduardo answered. "I thought you two might want to take a bath and change clothes, and then we can go and have something to eat." He said. "But if you want to rest a bit, I'm sure there is something in here that I can cook."

"No," said Bill, a little too hastily. "We don't want to cause you more trouble," he added. "We'll just refresh a bit, and then we go and see the city."

"Ok, then. The rooms are over that corridor. Each has its own bathroom." Eduardo pointed and sat on the couch watching tv.

"Edu is a great host but an awful cook," Bill said under his breath. James chuckled. "We'll meet here in half an hour, ok?"

After a quick shower and a change of clothes, James felt as good as new; the weariness of the journey washed out of him. Bill and Edu were already waiting for him in the living room.

"Good," said Eduardo. "Now, let's go and eat something, and I'll show a bit of my hometown."

They got in Eduardo's shabby-looking car once again, and this time James was more attentive to the landscape. It took only a short while for the slums of the favela where Eduardo lived to give place to better-looking neighborhoods. James noticed that as they got closer to the city center, the buildings had different architectural styles and, although they seemed older, better cared. He commented this to Eduardo.

"Manaus," he started to explain, "was once the jewel of the Amazon. A rich city built on the fortunes of the rubber industry that attracted people from all over Europe. In the 19th century, it was one of the most lively cities on this side of the Atlantic. People came looking for jobs or even to make their own fortunes. Some managed to get it. Most failed, and the city started to fade and lose its appeal, as the rubber boom ended".

They were now entering a more modern area of the city, with skyscrapers and what seemed to be office buildings. Here and there, James recognized some structures that could be in any European city center, with its turn of the century architecture features. Eduardo parked his car right in front of a beautiful red and yellow building, with stained-glass windows and metallic structures all around it. If it wasn't for its bright colors, James might guess it was a Muggle church or, at the very least, a government building.

"Here we are," said Eduardo.

"And where exactly is here?" asked James, still impressed with the building.

"This is the Mercadão, the city market of Manaus," Eduardo explained. "This is one of the oldest and prettiest buildings in the city. It was actually built in Europe and then shipped and re-built here. Muggles do some strange things," he added, leading them inside.

The market was filled with people and with life. In every aisle, James could see little shops selling everything from t-shirts to local indigenous handicrafts, to fruits, vegetables, and strange-looking fishes, some of which could very well earn a place in his "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them" copy. The smells wafting through the site were so powerful and entailing as the colors that brightened the place. Intense aromas of grilled fish and meat left James' mouth watering with anticipation. He hadn't realized how hungry he was before entering the market.

Luckily, Eduardo decided that eating should come first, then a tour of the place, and directed them to a small open seated restaurant at the center of the building.

"This is one of my favorite places to eat in all Manaus," Eduardo told them. "They cook the fish to perfection, you'll see. I'll get it for the three of us."

Five minutes later, he came back with three plates of grilled fish and three glasses filled with some liquid, ice, and lime. James picked up his glass and inspected it.

"That is the caipirinha," said Eduardo. "Brazil's national drink made with cachaça, sugar, lemon, and ice. Saúde," he raised his glass to the other two in a toast.

"Cheers," said Bill and raised his glass as well.

James followed and started to drink. It had a sweet and pleasant taste. So much so that he almost gulped half of it.

"Easy now," said Bill. "Don't let yourself be fooled by the sweetness. This stuff is powerful, and if you don't watch yourself we'll have to carry you back to the car".

They spent the next half-hour eating and drinking and listening to James and Eduardo reminisce about their adventures in Egypt working for Gringotts before the Brazilian decided to head back home and accept a teaching place at Castelobruxo, the Amazonian magic school.

"What do you teach?" James asked.

"Magical Zoology."

"Edu here was always a big fan of animals. That's why Charlie always liked him so much." Bill chuckled.

Music started playing somewhere in the market, and James noticed that people had started dancing and partying. He watched them for a while before returning to Eduardo.

"There are many magical animals in the Amazon?"

"More than anywhere else in the World. And we haven't even found all of them yet," answered Eduardo. "But," he continued facing Bill, "I doubt that you came all this way to hear me talk about birds, serpents, or enchanted dolphins. What brought you to the Amazon?"

Bill gulped the last remnants of his drink and looked around as if to make sure no one was listening to them. Then, leaning over the table, with little more than a whisper, said:

"I think I found it, Edu. The lost city of the Amazon. I think I know where it is."