Chapter Text
In bold – reading, past simple writing
In italics – description of what is shown on the screen, written in the present tense
Valerius Montague wondered if he had made a mistake in offering to read. The booklet was a little small, and it appeared shortly after the name of the Survivor came out of the Cup. It was impossible that Harry Potter put his name since he had not set foot at Hogwarts since last June. It was also unlikely that he would have asked anyone to put his name since the announcement of the Tournaments had only been made a month ago, and Potter had never reappeared at Hogwarts (he had officially been reported missing in August).
According to the Unspeakables, however, this booklet was supposed to provide answers. This old senile Dumbledore (yes, Valerius was heavily influenced by his older brother, Graham) had tried to grab the book. Still, they had all realized that the words would not appear if they were not read aloud in the Great Hall with all the people who had been present at the draw. That's why everyone was again present in the Great Hall of Hogwarts the night after the names were drawn.
The young Slytherin rubbed his sweaty hands against his uniform and then swept the room with a glance. Six hundred people faced him (about 800 Hogwarts students + delegations, teachers, and guests), and some whispered in anticipation.
Valerius swallowed and then opened the libretto. The words inscribed themselves as he cleared his throat.
Harry glanced at the compartment window while Ron and Hermione shared their vacation plans. He was vague when they asked him what he planned to do with his family.
Antonin Dolohov tilted his head to the side.
The truth is that he did not intend to return to his relatives.
Albus Dumbledore frowned at the guests' table – joined by the teachers – as Minerva glanced at him, lips thinning. She told him that these people were the worst muggles imaginable! Of course, she hadn't argued for long. After all, he was her mentor.
Standing in front of a podium, Valerius paused.
Oh.
Oh.
Oh, it was going to be a shock to the witch community.
Oh.
Dumbledore wasn't going to like it.
It was just as well since the Dursleys hated him, even though Harry perhaps hated them even more.
A stir stirred the room, and glances flew towards Dumbledore at the guests' table. Dumbledore, who had always assured them that the Survivor's blood family adored their nephew and vice versa. Dumbledore, who was going to have to endure a proper interrogation by the DMLE when all this was over, according to the piercing look of Amelia Bones.
"Albus!" whistled Minerva even as Severus glanced at the Headmaster snidely.
As much as he didn't like Potter, it was true that he had sworn a magical oath to protect Lily's son. Leaving the latter with abusive guards did not fulfill his role as protector. Even if he knew nothing about the abuse (and what a shame. He was supposed to know how to spot the signs. After all, many of his snakes had been abused in the past). Besides, who were the Dursleys?
Related...
Related...
Oh.
Severus turned his head so fast that Pomona winced for him when she heard a crack. He remembered hearing from Minerva that Lily's sister had married a certain something-Dursley.
"Petunia?" He sneered. "Did you leave the brat with Petunia?"
His voice barely carried, but the closest people heard it, including Amelia Bones and some Unspeakables and Aurors.
"Come on, Severus, boy. I know you didn't get along with -
"No, Albus," interrupted the Potions master. "Petunia was the worst choice you could have named for raising a magical child. I doubt very much that Lily would have approved."
Valerius cast a nervous glance around him and resumed reading when he judged the room calm enough to be heardTen10 years of physical and moral abuse could generate these kinds of feelings.
He almost flinched when the room exploded into murmurs. He had expected it but still.
Ron, Hermione and the twins exchanged a dark look. They knew that Harry would never have wanted this information to come to fruition, but they couldn't help but think it was for the best. Hopefully, an adult would FINALLY do something about it.
At the Slytherin table, Adrian grabbed Terence's wrist as Terence seemed to be trying to grab something invisible.
Since his friend had always wanted to take Potter in a koala embrace and not let him go, Adrian imagined it was one of those times.
"Ter, come back down to earth."
Terence pouted.
"But – but-"
"I know. Listen, if Potter comes back, you can give him as many hugs as you want."
This seemed to soften the young Higgs a little.
Adrian shook his head in amusement.
"Still," Terence muttered. "I told you there was something wrong."
Marcus Flint and his housemates grimaced. Four years earlier when the Boy Who Lived had been sorted into Gryffindor, Terence had told them there was something strange about the boy; that he was too small, too frail and that he flinched at sudden movements and loud noises.
No one had listened to him.
"yeah.."
At the guests' table, Mrs. Bones took a scroll of parchment and enchanted a pen to note the important points, and while she herself took notes on the abuse apparently suffered by the Survivor. Judging by the expressions on the faces of the vice-principal, principal, and students she knew were close to the Survivor, she knew it was an understatement and was probably really bad. In fact, she was furious that the principal and her assistant knew about it and did nothing to change that. After all, Minerva McGonagall could pester as much as she could, but if she knew as much as she let on, she should have done something sooner and not... Foolishly follow the director like a loyal servant.
Valerius was about to resume reading when he advised what followed, and he made a funny face before looking at the teachers.
"Uh, there's a... well, it's not a bad word, but it's an insult – err... am I reading it?
He received a pinched look from McGonagall and an approval from Professor Flitwick and shrugged.
So no, he did not intend to return to his relatives. Apparently, when that senile old Dumbledore said something, he expected everyone to obey without question.
At the Slytherin table, Marcus guffawed before he could contain himself as Malfoy gasped in amazement.
Minerva pursed her lips but refrained from saying anything. After the previous revelation, it would take her a while before opening her mouth again.
Hermione opened her mouth to lecture Harry and closed it without saying anything because 1/ Harry was not present and 2/ Dum – Professor Dumbledore had recently revealed himself less... grandiose than she imagined. She did not intend to defend it.
She really had to think about it independently, but she kept putting it off because she didn't want to doubt the authority figures. The Headmaster always seemed so good to Hermione! Of course, he had also asked her many questions about Harry, and now she realized that she might have delivered things that her friend would have preferred to keep private.
Maybe that was why he didn't tell her everything. Because he knew the director was good with words and he knew how to get people to talk without having to threaten them.
At the guest table, the Neutral and Black sections were on their ass. The Boy Who Lived had always been portrayed as the Great Dumbledore's protege so it was a shock to learn that was not the case (and that the boy might not be the old geezer's puppet). The Light section were equally surprised though, like the other two sections, some were pleasantly surprised (others not so much – but those were the Dumbles fanatics and there weren't that many).
Technically, Harry was going to be spending the Summer with his family... but they weren't the people this dear Headmaster was expecting. That suited Harry. If there was one thing he had learned since his introduction to the magical world, it was not to trust adults and even less old bearded bastards who thought they knew everything.
Valerius paused to make sure he wouldn't burst out laughing at some unexpected moment and did his best not to look at the guest table, where the manager was.
Albus frowned severely. Yet he had believed that Harry trusted and admired him. Sure, the boy had almost been sent to Slytherin but Albus couldn't have been so fooled, could he? And besides... family? What family ? He didn't get along with the Malfoys and although the Potters had quite a few other distant ties to other wizarding bloodlines, he would surely have heard of them if Harry had spent his Summers in the wizarding world!
While hearing the boy refer to Dumbledore as a 'bearded old bastard' was amusing, some didn't miss the fact that the boy didn't trust adults and that… that was concerning. Not surprising, but concerning all the same.
It was lucky the goblins had given him an international portkey (it had been worth the hours of paperwork at least) because although he had his uncle Z's permission to fly the sky, he hadn't. Intend to tempt fate by getting on a plane. Nope. Without him.
"Uncle Z? said Lisa Turpin of Ravenclaw.
Miles Bletchley cocked his head to the side.
"Given? Did they give him a portkey? They didn't make him pay? he whispered in disbelief.
His classmates, friends, and allies were all equally stunned.
The goblins must like Potter if they still needed to make him pay for the portkey. That in itself said a lot about the character of the boy. Few people had the respect of goblins, after all.
Albus' frown deepened. Had the boy left the country? And he never knew about it? How was this possible?
"Why doesn't he want to be in the air?" Is he a catcher? Terence Higgs asked.
"Maybe he's afraid of planes," suggested Tracey Davis.
"But why does he have to have his uncle's permission?"
"I don't know, maybe his uncle is worried about his safety or something."
Tracey was saying that, but she felt it was for another reason.
The Potter mystery only thickened.
The train began to slow down. Harry cracked a smile as Ron and Hermione continued to bicker.
Ah, the feuds between Weasley and Granger were known to all of Hogwarts. They almost rivaled the arguments between Weasley and Malfoy.
It was hard to convince Mrs. Weasley that she didn't need to meet her relatives – Harry didn't know why she wanted to meet them so much since she hadn't even believed her children when they told her about the bars and the cat flap in Harry's 'jail' a year earlier. er
"Wait – hold on… Did I hear you right?" began Evan Rosier, a criminal lawyer and member of the Wizengamot, pale in complexion.
Amelia Bones looked pinched as she watched her enchanted quill transcribe what was read.
"Yes, you heard that right."
Oh.
Around him, people were agitated and glances drifted towards Dumbledore, whose perky expression was crumbling as the reading progressed.
The Weasley twins winced at the mention of Harry's 'bedroom.' That was something they didn't like to think about. It always made them mad, and they disliked being mad. Furious at the Dursleys for condemning Harry to years of Hell, furious at their mother for not believing them. Furious with Dumbledore, of course, for his plans and for forcing Harry into abusive muggles. They were also a bit angry with McGonagall after learning from Harry that she had been there the night Dumbledore had left him on the Dursleys' doorstep and hadn't done much to talk Dumbles out of it as her decision.
Besides, the Dursleys weren't even at the station anyway. They had made a mutual agreement since Harry had started studying at Hogwarts; the less they saw each other, the better. The Summer following his first year had been the only exception, and Summer had made Harry more confident in making the deal.
Terry Boot frowned. He couldn't imagine feeling this way towards his family members. Then again, the Boy Who Lived's relatives weren't the most pleasant from what little he had heard and seen (he had seen Harry Potter's uncle at the end of their first year,r). It was an understatement considering what he had just heard.
The hardest part was going to be leaving the magic district. With the surrounding magic, it was easy to go unnoticed, but once he was in the non-magical world, he was easy prey for monsters to spot.
Antonin cocked his head to the side thoughtfully. Why did that remind him of anything?
Draco snorted. Potter did well to be scared; if he wasn't careful, the Dark Lord's former followers might decide to make him pay for his insulant.
He hadn't heard, but others had noticed, that Potter didn't feel so unsafe in the magical world but would be once in the non-magical world. Whatever those 'monsters' were, the surrounding magic was enough to camouflage the boy around wizards or magical creatures, but not when he was with muggles.
Did that mean he had been attacked before? But by what? Werewolves? No. They would have heard of it. And the werewolf packs wouldn't have wanted to risk the new freedoms they had gained with the recent laws passed.
But there were still the lone wolves...
Or vampires... Or other creatures of darkness (or others for those who weren't too biased).
"Are you sure you can't stay with us?" Ron asked as they collected their luggage.
He looked worried. Harry knew he remembered last Summer.
"Don't worry, we avoid each other with the Dursleys."
He would have told him that he wasn't spending his holidays with them, but he had heard from Ron that Dumbledore tended to visit his family during the holidays. And if he trusted Ron and the twins, he didn't trust the others.
Ron and the twins cracked a smile and then raised an eyebrow at Hermione, who looked hurt.
"You know he didn't think your name because you weren't mentioned there, Mione?" He said he didn't trust other people and Dumbledore, that's all."
Oh.
Hermione's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as the three male Weasleys giggled. They knew they shouldn't feel bad or angry for their father; they knew Harry had difficulty trusting people and had only met Mr. Weasley twice. So sure, he had spent several weeks with them before his first year, and they had all spent a week at the Leaky Cauldron before their third year, but that wasn't a lot, especially when you consider that their father spent quite a bit of time at the Ministry.
Hermione and Harry passed the barrier separating them from the muggle world together, and they were not long in parting when Hermione saw her parents.
Hermione smiled at the mention of her parents. She couldn't see them much but loved and missed them terribly. Harry also missed him terribly. She was worried about not hearing from her even though she understood. After all, the twins had told him they were worried about their mail being filtered at Hogwarts. Every once in a while, the twins would get an owl from Harry because they were used to ordering stuff by owl, so it was no surprise to hear a postman owl land in front of them. It would be weirder to see an unknown owl or owl land in front of Hermione and Ron when those two were using Errol (and Harry knew better than to use Hedwig to send mail to Hogwarts).
As soon as he was alone, he hurried to an isolated corner near the toilets and grabbed his pendant with a firm hand:
"Eleuthería ế Thánatos! he whispered.
The familiar feeling of portkey travel gripped him, and he stumbled as he landed.
"Hey? What did he say ?"
Hermione blinked and then turned her head when her classmates asked her if she knew what he had said.
“'Eleuthería ế Thánatos!' It's part of a Greek poem. It means 'To life, to death!' "she explained. This should be the portkey activation password.
"I didn't know he was a fan of Greek culture," Katie Bell said, blinking.
Hermione, Ron, Neville, and the twins turned their heads to her and the other confused Gryffindors.
"We knew it," they said in the chorus before blinking at each other and exchanging sidelong glances.
Terence giggled; he had understood that Potter was not very good with magical transportation methods.
Harry took some drachmas from his trouser pocket. His portkey had dropped him off at MACUSA headquarters in New York, and Harry had to go to the camp on Long Island – about four miles away. Fortunately, he had a means of transportation that served several people, including half-bloods. And this means of transport had nothing to envy to the Knight Bus.
At the mention of drachmas and half-bloods, Miles Bletchley's eyes widened.
Oh.
Oh!
Miles was a descendant of Hypnos, and he had always been able to see through the Mist. Potter was –
Oh.
Potter was a half-blood.
"What is a drachma?" inquired a young first-year Ravenclaw.
"It's the old Greek currency," said one of the upper year.
The explanation brought more questions; how come Potter, had Greek currency on him, especially if it wasn't current currency?
"Seems to me the drachma is still in use though," said another.
Oh, and they didn't even agree.
Draco frowned.
"Why the hell do they serve half-bloods?" What is this story? Americans are really weird.
"Idiot," breathed Miles.
His comrades gave him a sideways glance as Mini Malfoy looked indignant.
"You know something we don't," Terence said, looking at him curiously.
Miles gave them an enigmatic smile that made them cringe. Even Adrian Pucey and Vincent Carrow glared at him.
"Am I the only one wondering what he's doing in New York?" inquired a Ravenclaw in the assembly.
The others just shrugged. They were hardly as advanced as him.
Still, others paled at the mention of the Knight Bus. Oh. Oh, they felt bad.
"Stêthi 'O hárma diabolês"
At that, most of the students turned towards Hermione, but she shrugged, just as confused as them.
"I've no idea."
Amélia Bones and Augustus Rookwood turned to Antonin Dolohov and he blinked.
"He calls the Chariot of Damnation. Funny name for a means of transport."
At the same time, everything they were reading was rather strange and intriguing.
The characteristic sound of a speeding car was heard, and Harry's vision was filled with haze for brief seconds. When the Mist cleared, a car was standing there. It looked like a New York cab, except it was gray, not yellow.
"Is this a magical means of transportation?" inquired Theodore Nott.
"I doubt it. Americans mostly use magical buses that blend in with the muggle buses," Urquhart said.
Still, if that wasn't it, what was it? Besides, it wasn't like Jason was an expert in magical American transportation, so maybe he needed to be corrected.
Harry had been nine years old the first time he had taken the Chariot of Damnation – called Gray Nuns Taxi to normal people – and he had sworn to himself never to get back in it.
As a result, he took it every year to come and leave the camp.
Ron chuckled. He should have expected something like that. If this taxi had anything like the Knight Bus, he understood why Harry (a nine-year-old mini Harry) would never want to take it again. Again, since it was Harry, he wasn't surprised that he continued to use this means of transport. After all, Harry was an adrenaline junkie. Even if he refused to admit it, he was still in denial.
The taxi looked like a wreck. Any sane person would refuse to get inside because it looked like it was about to crumble, but Harry knew the vehicle was much stronger than it looked.
"Come on, let's get in the taxi," came a nasal voice from inside the vehicle.
Antonin didn't know why he was nervous.
Harry obeyed and got into the taxi (having shrunk his trunk and Hedwig's empty cage before he left Hogwarts).
In the front of the taxi were three women with their backs to him.
"Three? Muttered Antonin, frowning.
He wasn't an expert on Muggle things, but was it normal for a car to have three seats in the front?
"Ah, Hadrian, my little one. How was your year?
"Uh... eventful," replied the teenager.
How could I tell you that a few weeks earlier, he had been confronted by Sirius Black and a living Peter Pettigrew, who learned that his godfather was innocent and that the real culprit had been Pettigrew all along? After that, confirmation that their minister was incompetent hadn't surprised him.
Amelia snorted amusedly as Fudge blushed with anger and was only further embarrassed when quite a few ministerial employees and members of the Wizengamot seemed to nod in agreement with the boy's words.
The Ministry employees couldn't help shaking their heads in shame at the mention of Sirius Black. The so-called right-hand man of He Whose-We-Must-Not-Pronounce-The-Name had received a trial under Veritaserum and Pensieve a few weeks earlier at MACUSA. He had been found innocent. Newspapers all over the world were raving about it.
And since then, the English Ministry has been overwhelmed with howlers and negative articles.
The members of the foreign delegations exchanged low masses when they learned that the Boy Who Lived had been confronted with the terrifying Death Eater (well, at that time, he was represented as such) on the grounds of Hogwarts.
Really, what about "the safest place in Britain apart from Gringotts"? Ha!
Anger, Wasp, and Tempest were the drivers and owners of the Tank of Doom, and Harry had no idea what they were, but he wasn't going to ask them. They got along well because Harry had never been sick in their vehicle (a feat considering how they drove), and he had never criticized their prowess behind the wheel.
Harry tightened his grip on his seat – there was no seat belt.
"There is no belt!? Hermione cried with wide, wide eyes.
Fred and George smiled broadly as if reading that line had given them a brilliant idea for a new prank and prank product. Maybe it was.
At the Hufflepuff table, it was a whole different story.
"They have weird names," Ernie MacMillan said, rubbing his eyes.
"Because 'Hogwarts' and 'Hogsmeade' are normal names for you?" Hannah Abbott commented in turn.
"Well these are places, it doesn't matter."
Hannah shook her head, a small smile on her face.
Given that none of them could see and shared one eye for three, Harry was somewhat impressed that there had been no death.
"..."
Terence blinked.
"Wait, what?"
Miles chuckled.
"They share an eye."
"Yes... That's what I thought I heard. How the Hell is that possible?"
"We live in the magical world and you ask yourself the question?"
Terence glared at him and then noticed the amused sneer on Miles' lips.
This one knew something. He was sure of it!
A few seconds later, the taxi passed a field of strawberries and wasted no time stopping at the forest's edge.
Harry exited the car and stared at the forest with a searching gaze.
"Good luck staying alive, kid!"
He hated that they were right. He had less than a kilometer to reach his destination but had to go through the woods. And that was the most dangerous area for him and anyone who wanted to get to camp.
Miles had heard of a camp for demigods, but until now, he didn't know where it was.
Ron was almost biting his nails under the stress as Hermione had her fingers in her mouth to contain her anguish.
Summer vacation was supposed to be relaxing. Harry wasn't supposed to be in danger!
Fred and George weren't laughing either; they were too nervous!
The taxi took off quickly, immediately covering itself with a thick curtain of Mist before zooming off toward the center of New York. Left alone, he peered into the tree cover and took a deep breath before heading into the woods. Nothing good would happen if he remained uncovered for too long.
Severus frowned. As much as he wanted to think the Potter brat was paranoid, all those years of playing a double agent in World War I had taught him to be constantly on his guard and to approve of the boy's behavior for a while.
"Am I the only one who is lost?" asked Justin Finch-Fletchley.
His housemates shrugged without answering. As much as they were somewhat perplexed, they more or less understood that the teenager felt in danger and wanted to join 'the camp' as soon as possible.
Every rustle of leaves made him look over his shoulder. He had just seen the arch leading to the camp in the distance when a noise sounded, and he froze.
Evan Rosier also froze. He was so fixated on the story that he jumped when a hand landed on his shoulder.
"Don't forget to breathe," Antonin told him, a slight smile on his face.
Evan grumbled but complied.
A distant roar echoed through the forest, and Harry's heart skipped a beat. He did not wait; he leaped up and darted through the woods. He could hear the creature approaching at high speed. He didn't turn around. He didn't need it. Something leaped above him and stopped him dead in his tracks. He was only a few hundred meters from the camp! But he was under cover of the trees and didn't know if the others had noticed the commotion – a sign that one of their own was probably attacked by a monster.
Hermione grabbed Ron's arm in fear, and the redhead didn't even react, too worried he was for their best friend.
Fred and George exchanged worried looks. The time was over for joking. Admittedly, they had received letters from Harry since the start of the school year, but let's be serious. He would never have told them if Harry had been injured during the Summer.
Heart pounding, he slid his hand over the bracelet that never left him and twirled the blue diamond twice. The action triggered the transformation, and he immediately found himself with a dagger in his hand.
It was a gift from his father, enchanted by the care of Lady H. (*)
Valerius paused to take a sip from his glass of pumpkin juice (it didn't quite quench his thirst, but still).
"Lady H? Seriously, what's his thing with first names in initials?
"Names have power," said Luna Lovegood in a dreamy voice.
"What else is she talking about, Loony?" Said Marietta Edgecombe, not seeing the warning look Professor Flitwick gave her.
"No, she's right," intervened Miles Bletchley of Slytherin. "Names have power. These in particular."
Curious glances slid over to Bletchley. What did he know that they didn't? And how was it that Miss Lovegood knew these things, too?
The others were more concerned about James Potter giving his son a dagger.
James Potter was dead.
He may have left it in the boy's vault until he found it.
Yes, that was it.
After all, James Potter was dead.
The teen shuddered when he spotted the creature facing him and sighed in annoyance as he stared at the monster in disbelief.
Were they seriously getting bigger and bigger as they reformed!?
… It was unfair.
"Reform? What does he mean by 'reform'? Like a music group?"
Terence laughed at the Vincent Crabbe comparison.
"In a way, I doubt it."
"Wait, did that mean he had faced that monster before!?"
Harry tightened his grip on his dagger when he saw the hound camped on its feet, ready to attack.
Ron didn't open his jaw as he listened to the lil'-Montague.-read how Harry defended himself against a giant dog attack and then stabbed the beast by driving his bladed weapon through the creature's jaws while its mouth gaping to bite him.
He shivered.
All around him, students and adults were whispering excitedly about what they had just heard. Harry Potter was truly unique. But how come they had never heard of these attacks? How did Potter know what to expect? What was he hiding?
Ron sniffed. Harry was a person. He had the right to privacy too.
Valerius was about to resume reading after taking a few sips of pumpkin juice when he saw three Unspeakables approaching after being called out by other ministerial employees.
They inspected the booklet for a little while before one started casting new spells on the book.
One of the Unspeakables – Blade – swung around towards Valerius and the rest of the assembly before speaking as his two colleagues launched into a long Latin magic, and the golden filament encircled the booklet spell was a prototype. It's not very advanced yet, so even if we can't see everything, we might be able to see some scenes, said Unspeakable as his colleagues chanted under their breath.
When they were done, a screen of smoke rose in the Great Hall near Valerius Montague. A scene gradually appeared, and the students gasped when they saw it; Harry Potter stood before a huge black dog – not a Cerberus, no, but a dog of the same kind, just a little smaller and with only one head.
The beast was dead, and the Boy Who Lived had a bloody arm, his shirt ripped.
// The teenager crouches in front of the creature and mutters something in Greek; then, the monster slowly crumbles into golden ashes.//
Antonin, who spoke the language well, blinked and widened them. Potter had just offered to Artemis, the goddess of the hunt... What?
The screen zoomed in slightly, and they saw that he was holding something.
It was a fang. A large fang (if Harry had been present, he would have thought that although less impressive than a basilisk fang, it was still quite large. And it cut into his skin, very close to his other scar – thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Basil).
// Suddenly, screams catch the boy's attention, and he turns his head towards the archway indicating the entrance to Camp Half-Blood and smiles as he begins to sprint towards camp. //
Hermione cracked a smile when she saw Harry smile. It was a real smile, not a smirk, not a fake smile. A real one. She was glad that Harry was happy where he spent his time. Even if before, she would have probably disapproved. At the same time, she thought Dumbledore was always right.
That she had been naive in the past.
At last! That era was over.
And it was for the best.
She glanced at Ron and smiled fondly. She had her flaws, and Ron had him, but the redhead had matured over the past few months. They understood that Harry had his secrets; he had a right to privacy too. Being a celebrity shouldn't change that fact.
The mist screen froze but did not disappear. They may see other scenes later.
When Harry finally broke through the barrier separating Camp Half-Blood from the rest of the world, his shirt was in tatters, and a long trickle of blood was rolling down his arm, but he was smiling victoriously and holding a Hellhound tooth in his hand...
Ron smirked, proud of his best friend. Hermione winced at the sight of Harry's new injury. Admittedly, the scene was no longer displayed on the screen, but she had seen it.
A few people gulped. A Hellhound? It had sounded dangerous. At the same time, it was dangerous from what they could see. Probably classified in category XXXXX.
At least now he knew what Luna had meant when she told him to watch out for the fangs. He would never doubt her again, promise.
Hearing Lovegood's name, many jumped up and stared in disbelief at the book, then at the lady in question.
Loony? Loony Lovegood!?
No, surely, it could only be another person. Probably someone outside of Hogwarts. Did Potter even know Loony? No, not, thought Marietta, shaking her head.
He honestly couldn't understand why people at Hogwarts called him 'Loony.' It was mean of them.
…So it was her that Potter was talking about, thought Roger Davies, a sixth-year Ravenclaw.
Filius frowned at the 'nickname' given to one of his eaglets. He had already heard it a few months earlier but had never known who had been nicknamed that. Now that he knew, he was going to have to do something about it, especially if his eaglets took part in the persecution of Miss Lovegood (or any other student)
Then again, if there was one thing he had learned early on, it was that children could be cruel to each other. And Hogwarts was no different.)
Evan grimaced as he remembered his years at Hogwarts. He had been mostly spared, being a high-standing heir, but he had still been targeted by the Marauders several times.
He wondered if the Potter Heir had heard of what his father and his friends were doing when they were at Hogwarts. No, surely not. He wondered how he would react – probably badly. Evan had heard that young Potter reacted badly when he saw acts of persecution. That wasn't a big surprise considering how he had probably grown up.
He decided the teenager didn't know about his father's past as a bully. It wouldn't do any good. Then again, he thought as his gaze drifted to the Hogwarts Potions Master. If Severus was even remotely like his younger self, he might have already taken care of it. Talk to the boy.
Severus was such a bitter man.
Laura and Nathaniel were the first to reach him and jumped on him. Harry stumbled back, but his back met resistance, and he heard Joshua's familiar voice – a mountain of muscle from the Ares cabin.
"I thought I recognized our little Aegir."
Harry blushed softly. The other campers had all taken to giving him ocean-themed nicknames, but he liked Aegir. It was always better than Limpet or Amberjack.
"Why do they call it by ocean-related names? Ginny inquired with a confused grimace.
Ron shrugged, well aware despite himself that he had the attention of part of the Great Hall.
"Harry is comfortable in the water. It's probably related to that."
"Oh good ? I thought he hated water? He always avoids Black Lake," Ginny retorted.
"Nah, you're not there at all."
He, Hermione, Neville, and the twins knew why Harry avoided Black Lake when the weather was good. It was because, at such times, the other students would go outside, and for some unknown reason (to them anyway), Harry could understand the water beings, and he didn't want to be taken as a lunatic when responding to sea creatures.
Antonin Dolohov cocked his head to the side again. Aegir was a god from Norse mythology representing the Sea. Water was a major element in the young Potter's life.
"Limpet? Who would call someone Limpet?" Cedric Diggory said softly with an amused smile.
"Embarrassing friends," replied his best friend, Khalid.
"Josh!"
The screen cleared, and they saw a few people surrounding Harry Potter and greeting him warmly – like friends who hadn't seen each other in a long time.
// The boy, built like a quarterback behind him, points to the fang Harry is holding.
"Trophy of the battle?
"In effect."
"We heard grunts but our best archers haven't arrived yet. Finally, you are here now."
"I haven't really had time to draw my bow," Harry retorts softly.
The so-called 'Josh' smiles amusedly and ruffles his hair.
"I didn't know Harry could shoot an archery," Hermione whispered.
Ron shrugged.
"We never asked him the question."
At the guest table, Evan Rosier raised an eyebrow, looking puzzled.
"Trophy of the battle?"
His associates needed to be more advanced on the question.
"Maybe as a memory of the victory. Rather, I wonder how he made the creature's corpse disappear.
"It looked like he was making an offering following ancient rites," Rabastan Lestrange commented softly from his place next to his older brother, Rodolphus.
Both men were released from Azkaban in 1986 after being heard on veritaserum. True, they had been forced to take the dark mark under pressure from their father, who was worried that the Dark Lord would kill his sons, but they had never voluntarily served this berserk. And neither they nor Barty was in any way responsible for what had happened to the Longbottoms – as the rest of the world had learned during the trial of the Lestrange brothers. Barty Crouch Sr was forced to step aside for a long time after the trial when people learned that he sent his son to Azkaban without even giving him a chance to defend himself in a trial.
So now that we had learned that the same thing had happened to Sirius Black, it was too much for Crouch. After that, the older man couldn't keep his place in the Ministry.
(No one besides Crouch Sr knew, but Barty wasn't dead. And after his innocence was announced, he had no choice but to keep his son under imperium as he had since his death. 'dead.' Might as well say it right now, he was very scared since he learned that Barty had broken his control and escaped.).
Their uncle, Rowan Lestrange, nodded in agreement with Rabastan's words as Remington, their father conversed with Lord Nott.
The screen thawed.
"Have the others arrived?" Harry asks as the other two campers hug him briefly before stepping back.
Josh shrugs.
"They all come in dribs and drabs. The trio is there though. They'll jump for joy when they know you've finally arrived."
"I'll go see them after I've reported my arrival to Mr. D. It's surprising that he is not in his usual place," said Harry, glancing towards the porch of a house a little further.
"Apparently, he tried to negotiate a shortening of his punishment with his dear dad and he received an addition of ten years."
The four teenagers burst out laughing at this.
Evan cocked his head to the side. It was frustrating to feel like I only understood half of the conversation.
A punishment? Punishment for what? And what kind of parent gave such a long punishment? Ah, one of those extremely long-lived creatures.
"And Chiron, where is he?"
Was it a way to completely immerse yourself in the Greek theme? Was it a nickname given to an animator? Antonin thought before shaking his head. No, it was more than that but... was it really? Was he imagining things?
"Ah, young Hadrian. I see you have arrived! a new voice exclaims. I heard the commotion but you were already done with that Hellhound when Demetri and Sullivan took their bows. Good work. »
Terence felt his jaw drop when he spotted a centaur. He didn't know why he was so shocked – it wasn't like he had never seen a centaur! There was a herd of centaurs in the Forbidden Forest, but they weren't easily approached. Maybe it was because even though they had seen a lot of more or less magical things so far, he thought the camp was a non-magical place or maybe a camp for half-blood wizards only. (even though Miles had said 'Half-Blood' didn't have the same meaning here).
"Hadrian? His name is Harry! Shouted a third-year Hufflepuff, quickly approved by others.
Ron and Hermione rolled their eyes.
"His real name is Hadrian. Hadrian as a tribute to his great-grandfather on his father's side. Harry for his grandfather on his mother's side. The name on his birth certificate is 'Hadrian.' His parents just decided to shorten him to 'Harry' to pay homage to his two ancestors," Hermione said pedagogically.
Everyone listened carefully and found themselves very surprised by the information.
"How do you two know that?"
"Harry told us."
The 'We're his best friends, of course he told us' went unspoken, but it might as well have been yelled.
//Harry's eyes light up as he hurries towards the centaur, which another bearded man accompanies.
"Chiron! Mr D!
"Oh, here's another one. Summer is just beginning and I'm already exhausted. Where do they find the energy to be so happy?" mutters the stranger before taking a sip from his Diet Coke can.
George laughed.
"He reminds me of Snape for some unknown reason?"
His housemates laughed when they heard that.
Draco frowned at what the man was holding. Was it a muggle drink?
"I know you're happy to see me, Mr D," Harry said with an amused grin.
"Nonsense!"
The boy laughs.
Terence wasn't the only one to flush when he heard the young Potter burst out laughing. It was so pure! He had never heard Potter laugh like that. He wasn't sure he had ever heard Potter laugh.
He wondered if the other two members of the Golden Trio had ever heard it like that.
Ron, Hermione, and the twins blinked. Sure, they'd heard Harry laugh like that before, but it had never been...like that. His laughter was usually controlled… There… he sounded like a child – like a normal teenager.
It was... It was nice to see him like that.
'Mr D' was not very tall and a little overweight. He had curly brown hair, almost purplish, and small, piercing black eyes. He was dressed in a panther skin-patterned short-sleeved shirt and wore red running shoes.
He didn't look scary at all, just grumpy and resentful.
// Harry twirls towards the man in question, a big smile on his face.
"Hey, Mr D! I have something for you. It took me hours of research, but... Tada!" Harry exclaims happily, handing the man a glass filled with… something.
The so-called Mr. D raises an eyebrow, and Harry smiles, almost bouncing with excitement and anticipation.
"It tastes like alcohol but it's not alcohol!" Uncle Z shouldn't be too mad. However, it should not be abused.
Seamus' eyes twinkled. That was not the spell he had been trying to produce since entering the wizarding world (turning a glass of water into a glass of rum), but it was close nonetheless! He should look for that spell! Whatever, he wanted to experience a proper binge.
// Mr. D raises an eyebrow, curious and a bit skeptical, then accepts the strained concoction and takes a sip.
After a moment of silence, he looks surprised:
"It's... it's quite nice."
Harry's face lights up.
"That means I won our bet, Mr D!"
"… I imagine that is the case."
Antonin Dolohov's eyes widened. Chiron. Mr. D. Lady H. Half-bloods. How could he not make the connection sooner!? He had, of course, heard the rumors many years ago. Of course, these rumors had never been proven, but he had heard things in the Department of Mysteries.
"(Sigh) Very good, very good. Go ahead, Hadrian, and put things in your cabin."
Harry chuckled.
"You know Mr. D. Hadrian is my real first name. So technically you said the right name!"
The expression on 'Mr. D's face was hilarious. Apparently, the man habitually said the wrong name and seemed to be doing it intentionally to irritate the campers.
"Never mind, Harold. Shoo~”
Chiron looks at them amused and laughs softly when Harry bursts out laughing and rushes further into the camp.
The screen froze as they got an aerial view of the camp, and Valerius cleared his throat as he stared at a new page of the book. Words were still registering when he started to read.
If he remembered correctly, Summer vacation started in a few days in America, so Harry wasn't surprised that the camp was still empty. A few campers always stayed here year-round, but there were quite a few of them. Most were starting to arrive now. He greeted the people he met on his way and laughed when Dalan – the satyr who had shown him around the camp when he was eight – did a double take on advising him and ran to meet him.
On the screen, they saw Harry talking with a young satyr with dark skin and amber eyes. He appeared to be in his early twenties and wore an open jacket. His chest was mostly bare, and he wasn't wearing any pants – logical. Two small horns protruded from his curly hair.
They didn't hear the conversation between the two males, but they suspected it was just a matter of making up for lost time and getting the news.
They separated a few steps from Harry's cabin. He was the only cabin occupant – which was a bit sad, but he just had to wait for Fen to arrive.
"Fen?" Ron repeated slowly with a slight frown.
He wore a confused look that reflected on Hermione's face. The girl shook her head, but they weren't surprised; Harry avoided telling them about his life outside of Hogwarts because neither had mastered Occlumency. Fred and George could detect mental intrusion and were chaotic enough to push someone out of their minds, so they knew slightly more.
"He's a close friend of Harry's."
Students and guests looked in awe as they saw the bungalows. About ten cabins stood in the middle of the field, forming a large Greek omega (Ω) when they once again had an aerial view of the camp. There were funny symbols on each of the cabins. Only Antoninus and Greek mythology buffs recognized some symbols for what they were.
Hermione recognized a few of them and thought this camp should educate fans of Greek mythology, but she would need more information before she understood what this place was. And what one of his best friends was.
The bungalow Harry stood in front of was quite large but smaller than the one that sported a large lightning bolt on the front. The building was hewn out of gray stone and encrusted with coral. He was beautiful, and he, too, had this theme of the Sea, just like Harry Potter, who seemed to subscribe to this theme.
Arrived in his bungalow, Harry deposited his trunk on the ground and pressed a button to restore it to its original size, and then he fell on his bed.
Ah. 'Home Sweet Home.'
Terence made an admiring noise when he saw the bungalow inside. The walls were pearly white, and several beds were stacked with silk sheets.
In the middle of the living room, there was a circular hatch, and when Harry (who had gotten up in the meantime) leaned over to open it, Terence realized that the hatch opened directly onto the water. For all he knew, the cabin was probably overlooking a lake or a beach. Wow, that was so cool!
On the screen, they saw the teenager grabbing his shirt and slowly pulling it off with a grimace.
Terence's eyes widened, and a growl rose in his throat. Adrian swore softly under his breath as their housemates stared at the screen in disbelief (in the space of one evening, all their preconceptions about the Boy Who Lived had just faded. No, they had just been shattered, shattered. For some, it was for the best, but this one... they would have preferred not to see Terence's theory confirmed like this).
Potter's back was covered in scars. It wasn't – mostly small, thin scars, but they were there. They were there. There were a few bite marks, but some weapons and belts had made others, most definitely of human origin. There were also a few long scratch marks. One was particularly impressive; three long marks crossed his back diagonally. That scar must have been six inches long, and it was still a pretty bright red, a sign that it wasn't that old (although Potter's famous lightning bolt scar was thirteen years old and was still brightly colored as if it had recently bled. But hey, a scar from the Death Curse, it was an unknown variant). They were only slightly reassured to see fewer marks when they saw Potter's chest. He had a few scars on his chest and a longer one on his arm.
What caught Terence's attention, though, was the beautiful tattoo that adorned Potter's chest, just above his heart. A nautical compass adorned the Boy Who Lived's chest. It was very pretty and incredibly detailed. The only hint of color in the tattoo was a bit of blue in the ink connected to the compass.
// The teenager sits on the ground next to the circular hole revealed by the hatch. His legs are soaking in the water. //
Neville blinked when he saw Harry jump into the water. He didn't know why he was surprised; he shouldn't have. Harry always took advantage of every opportunity to find himself in the water. He seemed to prefer the type of swimming used by freedivers (yes, Harry had told his pureblood friends about things and things from the Muggle world, especially anything to do with water or Greek mythology ). He swam, stretching his arms before him as his body followed in undulations like a little mermaid.
"Uh, isn't he out of air yet, is he?" asked Lisa Turpin with a bewildered doe look.
"Maybe he cast a bubble-head spell?" Suggested Marietta Edgecombe.
"No, we would have seen him do it. We would see at least a slight distortion of the air around his head and he's not allowed to cast spells outside of school. He would have had a warning."
"You are right for the first two arguments but not the last. It is said that a barrier separates the camp from the rest of the world. The barrier also allows wizards to use magic undetected.
After all, underage wizards could use magic outside of Hogwarts if they had permission from their guardians or were supervised. That and, of course, that muggles didn't see them.
// He swims several hundred meters and smiles brightly when a few fish come to meet him.
"Little Prince !"
"Lenny! Kiroya!"
Harry stops, content to float in place as the few fish present crowd around him.
Terence blinked.
"Little Prince ?"
Miles was smart. Between that, Potter's fixation with all things water, and the trident-marked bungalow, he knew the teen was the son of one of the Big Three, which was... crazy. Then again, if he believed the rumors, Lord Z was the first to break their oath to have no more children, so maybe it wasn't so surprising to see that another bro had broken his promise.
"It's me or he's having a conversation with the fishes, like it's normal?" Sophie-Anne Perks, from Gryffindor, blinked.
"Is it me or did we just hear a fish talking?" adds Parvati Patil.
"I'm more surprised that we heard Harry talking like it was normal. He didn't even choke or anything. It's like he can breathe underwater," stated Seamus.
It wasn't 'as if.' It was the case.
What was Harry? A water creature? A mermaid... Uh... A merman? But no, he had no fishtail, no scales either.
On the screen, Harry was telling the fish that he was refamiliarizing himself with the lake, and the fish were quick to follow the teen as he swam lazily through the depths of the water.
Finally, when the teenager emerged from the water, over an hour passed, and he looked serene with his hair flattened against his skull and the water dripping down his body.
Evan Rosier felt himself blushing when he saw this. It wasn't – it wasn't – no! He was not flustered!
However, they all noticed one thing - as the screen focused on it momentarily: the wound on the boy's arm had disappeared. All that remained was a fine bite mark that had healed perfectly.
Odd.
The screen froze again, and Valerius retrieved the booklet, opening it to the marked page.
That evening, when Harry left his bungalow to join the Dining Hall, he met Cala and Milena, two of the Nymphs who resided at the camp, and greeted them with a nod. He didn't wonder why they were laughing at them or why they were blinking. Three years at Hogwarts had taught him to ignore the strange behavior of certain people.
Valerius paused briefly, a slight smile on his face as others laughed amusedly. He didn't know that Potter was also… naïve on certain subjects. Did he have no idea the effect he had on many people? He was sure the two nymphs found Potter attractive or lovable.
An image appeared on the screen, and looks of approval or even envy appeared on some faces when they saw the place where the campers were having their meals.
The 'pavilion' was an area outside, framed by Greek columns, on a hill overlooking the Sea. There was no wall, they were outside, and the view was pleasant. Ancient torches sprang from the columns and illuminated the dining space. A good dozen tables occupied the space, and a large bronze brazier was in the center of the refectory.
Valerius, who until then had been staring dreamily at the screen, caught himself.
A few campers were already there. One of the tables was busier than the others.
"Harry!"
"Ooh, our little Eldoris has come home." (1)
"Eldoris?"
"The other campers started giving Harry nicknames related to the Sea or the ocean. I don't know what it refers to, but it's probably something like that," Hermione said.
Ron and the boys gasped in mock shock.
"Hermione Granger? Don't know something? And admit it? Impossible !"
Hermione rolled her eyes, but the shadow of a smile appeared.
"So shut up, and let's see what happens. Harry will not be happy to know that everyone has learned more about him, but since we can do nothing to stop it, we might as well learn more.
Harry smirked as he let Eddy ruffle his hair. Suddenly, a scream caught his attention, and something jumped on his back, sending him almost waltzing against the table.
"Harry!"
Oh, he knew that voice.
// On the screen, two (pre-) teenagers and a young girl appear in the dining hall. The youngest – a little girl with blonde hair and a clever gray look- jumped on Harry with a squeal of delight. The other two children seem just as playful but contain themselves better.
"Anna!"
"And what are we, a butter?" the boy joked.
"Of course not, how can I forget the great Luke Castellan and our hunter (not Artemis, but in the sense that she is a good hunter) Thalia?"
The so-called Thalia laughs as she comes to hug Harry.
The screen paused once more, and Valerius shook himself.
Thalia Grace, Luke Castellan, and Annabeth Chase. Harry had met them two years earlier. He was almost twelve, Luke was ten, Thalia was nine, and Annabeth had just turned seven.
Terence cooed, thinking of all those children and of Harry Potter – who had been much more frail and puny two years earlier (not that he wasn't frail anymore, but he had fleshed out a bit since then).
If you listened to Thalia and Annabeth, you would get an epic tale of how Harry saved them, Luke and Grover from the Furies sent after Thalia killed her. If you listened to Harry, he had managed to save them purely by luck, and the only reason there had been no deaths was sheer stubbornness on their part.
Uncle H. Antonin could have cried (well, not really, but the idea was there). Who among the gods could control furies? Antonin knew a little about mythology. The Furies were known as the "female dogs of Hades," so really. Uncle H...
How could he not make the connection earlier with the deities, uh? He was disappointed in himself.
But... But if Potter addressed Hades as "uncle," that must mean... Oh, Merlin.
He must have made a face since Madam Bones and Lord Ogden gave him strange looks.
"Are you all right, Lord Dolohov?"
He had taken over the title of Lord a few months ago – his father being too old to take on his responsibilities at Wizengamot; he had decided to step down and let his son handle it all. After all, Antoninus II of the name was old enough and responsible enough to handle all these things, and his father (Antonius I) could barely get out of bed now.
"Everything... It's fine, I just...realized something about the Heir Potter. I'm just in shock."
Lord Ogden raised an interested eyebrow but said nothing. He suspected that Dolohov intended to let them marinate.
Mrs. Bones tilted her head to the side.
"And I imagine you're not going to tell us?"
Antonin shook his head with an amused grin.
"Even if I told you, I don't think you would believe me."
Really? It must have been really big, then.
Around them, excited whispers rumbled across the tables.
"Safe? Did he save them?
Padma Patil scowled at Elucain Abbott. We had no idea to be so energetic and excited late at night (it was only eight o'clock but still).
"I don't know why you're so surprised. Potter has already saved people at Hogwarts."
"These are just rumors."
"It stops being rumors when the teachers confirm them. Potter and Weasley received the honors when the Chamber of Secrets was opened two years ago.
Roger Davies cocked his head to the side.
"We never knew what happened, by the way. All we knew was that the culprit had been found, and that was it.
It was true. They had never known what had happened. Just that a student had been abducted and later found safe and sound. Since Harry Potter and Ron Weasley received the honors soon after, they had just assumed that they had found the person responsible for all these attacks.
Romilda Vane and Ginny Weasley sighed dreamily. They knew that Harry was THE prince charming of their dreams.
That or maybe Uncle H had mellowed. A shiver took him, and he sniffled amusedly. Ha! As if!
Uncle H, Antonin thought with a nervous smile.
It was Hades.
Hades was renowned for his furies, not Hephaestus or Hermes.
And if Uncle H was Hades...and Harry Potter's divine parent was his father, then that probably meant Zeus or Poseidon...if he was not mistaken - at the same time, he didn't know the masses about it. Greek mythology.
To be continued...