Timezones sucked, big time. That was the one repetitive thought running through his mind like a broken record as Killian yawned for the umpteenth time. Dawn hadn't even broken the horizon but here he was, already up, smoothing out his unruly hair as he glanced at the mirror one last time. Decked in a dark grey T-shirt with long sleeved rolled up to his elbows, navy jeans and his broken-in sneakers, he looked as though he was dressed to visit his friends in the neighbourhood rather than travel halfway around the world. The dark eyebags sharply contrasting with his pale skin made him look sleep-deprived. Not his fault America was five hours behind England time. Students - and the Professor heading this trip - from Hogwarts would travel to Cairo according to the time over there, and although the letter did state timezones would be taken into account for students from schools besides Hogwarts, Killian made it a habit to be on time, even if it meant screwing up his biological clock.
Reaching down to touch the brown leather pouch at his left hip, looped through his belt, Killian slotted two fingers through the closed flap and felt around to ensure his potions kit and medical supplies were present and prepared, untempered after he packed it the morning before. His wand pouch - and the wand itself - was strapped to his right wrist, a familiar weight he was unaccustomed to feeling during the holidays. Ilvermony was rather strict regarding the rule of leaving wands behind when the semester holidays came about. What a relief it was when he was permitted to bring it along for this trip. Surrounded by other witches and wizards he would be, Killian still disliked the thought of being in a new environment without some form of physical reassurance. Potions and knowledge could only go so far without a wand, and the only wandless magic he could cast all revolved around the Art of Healing.
Checklist ticked, he reached down to haul his small enchanted backpack up, slinging it over his shoulders, fastening the clasp at his waist and tightening the strap. His necessities like a water bottle, extra clothes, some cash and the like were stored within. Whatever else he lacked, he could purchase it over there. Maybe.
"Huh, and here I thought I have to throw you out of bed." Aunt Chelsea's husky voice sounded from the doorway of his room. A part of him that didn't startle at the sudden appearance envied the way she sounded wide awake, despite the fact he knew she got less sleep than he did. Maybe it was a skill veteran detectives developed sometime during their career?
"Keep dreaming, Aunt. You haven't gotten the chance in five years and you sure as heck ain't getting the chance now." He said with a fond roll of his eyes even as he suppressed the urge to yawn again.
"'sides, I don't want to be late. I'm sure the others wouldn't like to be kept waiting long. I can catch up on sleep later. Just let me get some coffee before I go and I'll be fine."Trudging down towards the kitchen, he was pleasantly surprised to see a steaming cup of cappuccino on the counter, a thermal flask with what he definitely knows is more coffee sitting beside it. No meal was prepared, but it was normal. Killian never ate until he felt hungry, meaning he usually skipped breakfast as he didn't have an appetite shortly after waking. Murmuring a quiet thanks, he downed the beverage and wrapped his left hand around the flask, the other reaching for the jar of sand at the far corner. A hand slapped down across his knuckles, making him blink at Chelsea, eyebrow quirked in question.
His aunt clicked her tongue in mild exasperation. "Did you forget the instructions regarding sand travel? Drink some water first unless you want to be uncomfortable on top of sleepy."
"Ah, right. Thanks." Sheepishly, he poured a glass of water and downed it in a swallow before turning to the older woman and giving her a quick hug. "
Take care. I'll keep in contact. If possible."Stepping into the middle of the kitchen, he took off the jar's lid and shut his eyes as he dumped the sand over his head. The drop of his stomach was similar to portkeys, but the strange sensation of his body
flaking as the tiny grains of sand whisked him away through tim and space was distinctly unfamiliar and shudder-inducing. He didn't wish to know how the entire process played out, not if it appeared as weird as it felt.
It seemed like only a few seconds passed before his feet touched solid ground once more and Killian tentatively opened an eye to glance around. The first thing that registered wasn't the other individuals gathered before him - although it should be - but the ancient-looking nature of his surroundings. This should be the Grand Bazaar, right? It certainly looked...different, with its rough stone walls and intricately carved pillars. Shops lined the streets and unique objects were sold at various booths, shaded from the blazing sun with large canvas roofs.
Finally looking his fill, he walked towards the small crowd inside a shop and gave a polite nod to the only adult there.
"Good morning, Professor. I hope I did not keep you waiting long." Turning to the other students standing around, he greeted them with another nod and a shallow smile.
"Morning to you too. Duyi Killian Song of Ilvermony. Call me Killian. I hope to get along with all of you for the duration of this trip." 
