Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to the original works of the HP or PJO works by JKR and RR. Any similarity to forms of entertainment including books, movies, plays and television shows are not entirely coincidental.

The Battle of the Labyrinth. And this fic will have another adventure after the Labyrinth.

Listening to – Welcome to My Life by Simple Plan

Words- 4300

Petunia Dursley prided herself for a good many things. The extensive neatness of her domain, the perfect reputation she'd built for herself, her clean name in all records of consequence and of course, her sacrifice in having to take in her very troubled and vicious nephew who was abhorred by the neighbourhood since he did not fit in specific categories of Privet Drive.

Her friends were very sympathetic to her cause. How could a wonderful woman like her be saddled with the devil's spawn? Oh, if you knew of the troubles that Potter boy had brought along with him that morning post Halloween nearly fourteen years ago!

It was luck that they were able to find a good institution for him to stay in for the majority of the year. The neighbours knew that the summer vacations were the only time when he'd have to spend at No. 4. It was a dreaded space and so many people were too frightened to be in his presence. There was something so odd and unnatural about him. There was an aura of danger, a foreboding presence in lively and warm Little Whinging.

The Dursleys must be the bravest family ever known. How could they spend three months with him under the same roof? How could they stomach his presence?

Petunia gave herself a grim smile. This was the story of the Dursleys in their locality. Selfless and brave to accept someone who would no doubt grow up to be a serial killer, despite all the help possible in the 21st century.

On the first week of June, they'd have to drive to King's Cross to pick him up. It was as though everything from last summer had been erased. The deal was to take him in their house and seal the blood protection until he was seventeen.

She sighed. Vernon would be home in an hour. Dudley wouldn't be accompanying them. That would be for the best. It was barely nine in the morning, the June day was warming up and it would be hot soon.

The bell rang.

Petunia looked up from her magazine in surprise. No one was scheduled to ring the bell. Not on that particular day. Everyone – everyone – knew that the Potter boy would be arriving. Nobody would dare venture near No. 4, today of all days.

It couldn't be Dudley, he'd let himself in through the kitchen door. It was too early for Vernon and too late for the postman.

Ignoring the prickling behind her neck, she dropped the magazine and walked up to the door, automatically smoothening down her neat little summer dress and patting her hair.

She opened the door, not bothering to look in through the peephole. It was a clear morning. No burglars would be on the prowl under the sun.

A tall and vaguely familiar woman stood on the other side. She had a bright face and a strong smile. Dark hair pulled back into a braid and pale blue eyes almost flashed at Petunia.

"Good morning, Petunia! You're looking well." The woman greeted her too warmly.

Petunia frowned in confusion. Her voice seemed to strike a memory deep in the recess of her mind. She knew the stranger but for the life of her, couldn't recall a name...

"It's me." The stranger woman said lifting her hands to make a vague hugging gesture. Petunia didn't move.

Could she be... one of them? No. No, not possible. She was dressed in a plain thin jumper and a pair of trousers. A set of car keys dangled from her fist and they jingled as she waved her hand. She was far too happy for the mood Petunia was in. The word 'juvenile' floated around her head more than once.

The woman gave an exasperated sigh. "Really now? Come on, Petunia! We used to be neighbours! I moved away few years ago, but I must have made some kind of impression."

A man walked in through the gate and came to stand behind the woman while she was talking. He had a smart face and handsome eyes, silver in the sunlight. His hair was longer than what Petunia would've liked. He was dressed normally, but Petunia did not like the expression on his face. It was too smug as though he knew something of importance and she did not.

"You probably wouldn't remember me, Mrs. Dursley, but we've met once, several years ago. My name is Sirius Black."

Petunia frowned. That named sounded far too familiar for her liking. The stranger woman sighed and gave a wide grin as she said, "I'm Sally Jackson. I use to live in No. 3 with my son, Percy. You must remember me!"

The memories flooded in. The Jacksons had been just as weird and hazardous as the Potter boy.

Petunia let out a squeak and shut the door in their faces.

On the other side, Sirius snorted and said, "Oh, you've definitely made an impression, Sally."

"It seems so. And when did you meet her before?"

"A long time back. I had tagged along with James to pick up Lily from her parents' memorial service. She and Petunia had a tiff right in front of the graves. Lily was never good with funerals."

Sally's smile vanished. "Nobody likes funerals. I hate the masks we have to wear in front of people."

The pair stood in remembrance for a minute before she raised her hand and pressed the door bell again.

"Go away!"

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "She sounds just as pleasant as she did before."

"Try knowing her for seven years." Sally muttered before raising her voice, "Petunia, for gods' sakes, stop pouting and open the door!"

"Leave before I call the police!"

"We just want to talk!"

"And sign some papers." Sirius announced.

The curtain behind the front window was pushed aside and they saw Petunia's face through the glass. She looked quite annoyed and wary.

"I have a rifle."

"Yes." Sally said, her smile forced. "I've heard all about that rifle. Too bad Vernon isn't home. I would've enjoyed that chat."

Petunia glared at the duo. Who did they think they were, barging into her normal life? Why couldn't they just leave her alone? She hadn't asked for this!

"What do you want? The boy isn't here. He's on the train. He'll reach the station at six in the evening."

"We know that. But do you remember the phone call Harry made to you back in winter?"

Petunia clenched her jaw. She remembered that call. She'd nearly screamed in horror when she picked up her phone to find his voice on the line. How did he even remember her number? They'd never called each other. She could have changed the number for all he knew. She was sure that he'd checked their records with magic or some other nonsense.

Sirius peered into the window. "Well, if you recall, Harry told you that I'm his godfather and I am willing to take on his guardianship from your hands."

Petunia stared. She did remember that bit of conversation. She also remembered the letter that had accompanied the boy when she first found him on her doorstep. The one that talked about blood protection that would keep them safe until when Harry would turn seventeen.

She'd obviously refused to do it then. Compromising the wards after putting up with him for so many years? Not an option.

"I remember his proposal. And like back then, I still refuse to hand over the guardianship."

Sirius was joined by Sally as they gaped at her through the glass. Petunia felt righteous now that the smug look and smiles had dropped. It was good for them to be knocked down a couple of pegs.

"You don't like him." Sirius said finally. "And he doesn't like you. Why would you choose –"

"Why would I choose to put up with him for three summers more? My priority is my family. I don't know how it is in your world. By letting him stay in my house for the summer until 2013, blood wards will keep my family safe from your kind. I'm not giving up after fourteen years. You lot dumped him on my doorstep, so I will see fit to deal with him as I want. Now, leave!"

She swung the curtains back into place and stomped into the kitchen, almost relishing the looks of shock on their faces. Ha! They hadn't expected that, did they?

There was a sudden and incessant rapping on her door. This time, she ignored it. Petunia wondered if the situation was dire enough to call Vernon. He may not like it, though. She'd rather be able to deal with it herself.

The sound stopped but ten seconds later, they started to knock harshly on the door again. Petunia glared at her counter, before marching to the cupboard under stairs, ripping open the door and grabbing for the rifle. She did warn them.

She checked the safety, held the weapon below her right shoulder and opened the front door.

Harry Potter stood in front of Sally and Sirius. His eyes widened when he saw the barrel of the firearm aimed at his head.

Sally gasped and yanked him out of the way. She held him at her side, on arm around his shoulder protectively as though she cared. Sirius gaped at Petunia and immediately reached into his coat.

She inhaled. It looked like they were about to have a fight right at the moment but Sally hissed, "Petunia! Put that down! Why the hell do you have to overreact all the time?!"

"Whoa." Another voice said. Petunia looked down and saw a boy who looked a lot like her nephew with that wayward Potter hair. Beside him was another boy, about a head taller, the same height as Harry. He looked just as surprised.

"If it's safety you're worried about, we can have different shields put up for your benefit. But you have to admit, nobody likes the current arrangement." Sirius said in a soothing voice probably used in hostage situations. Petunia nearly snorted but that would be undignified of her.

"This is for everyone's best." She continued, eyeing the rifle with trepidation. "Petunia, may we please calm down and have a mature conversation rather than a showdown in the Wild West?"

"Yeah, we're kinda East to the original West." Percy muttered. Harry peeled himself from Sally's side and said, "Actually, I was hoping to say something to you, without an audience."

Petunia glared at him, her usual expression towards him. Harry swallowed and turned to look at his posse. "I'll talk to her."

She lowered her gun and strode back into the house. Harry was stubborn. She knew she wouldn't be able to avoid whatever he had to say, because it was rare when he actually did talk.

Harry walked in and closed the door, not before shooting a significant look at the others. Petunia held herself from rolling her eyes and kept the rifle on the dining table. She folded her arms and levelled a look at him to stop shuffling around the room.

He was staring up at the photos on the mantle. There'd been a new one of Dudley being selected for a Junior Boxing Tournament. He hadn't won, but Petunia knew that he'd probably found his calling.

"Make it quick." She snapped. Harry blinked, opened his mouth and then shut it, looking as though he'd lost his words for a moment.

"Well, like... like Sirius said, we can upgrade your house to accommodate a shield around it without blood wards."

"But it won't be as strong as the one we already have."

"Yes." Harry frowned, "Not as strong. But we can put up more than one shield. If anyone means you harm, they won't be able to entire the premises. You'll be absolutely safe and these shields can last for years, even up to a decade."

Petunia exhaled, still nerved by the prospect of changing. "But you have that enemy out there. He – he isn't dead."

Harry looked up sharply, "How do you know that?"

"You're limping. It's not obvious, but you must have broken your leg a while back." Petunia said, nodding at his right leg. The jeans looked slightly engorged around his knee which meant bandages.

"It must have been bad enough that it's still hurting now. Either your school is so dangerous that it just can't keep you safe or you've ticked someone off. And the way everyone waited until the summer to actually put forward the plan to change your residence? That brought up another alarm."

Harry sighed and pulled a parchment roll from the inside of his jacket. "I tick people off by breathing. You're one of them. If you sign the papers, you'll never have to see me again."

Petunia shook her head, "We'll cross paths eventually –"

"No. I mean it." Harry stepped towards her and spoke deliberately, "This will be the last that we see of each other. I know you hate me. You've hated me since day one. This is your chance to get rid of me. Why aren't you taking it?"

She looked at him. He was nearly at her height. "There'll be a catch in it someday."

Harry clicked his tongue. It was a sound she loathed and he knew it. "Sign it."

"If I refuse?"

"Then I'll assume that you like me and don't want me to leave."

His eyes were a bright green that was unhindered behind his glasses. He didn't realise how much he looked like Lily up close.

Petunia knew what people from his world thought of her. That the Dursleys were cruel tormentors of the Freak-Who-Lived but the real story was known only to Privet Drive.

"You've made my life miserable."

"Don't be such a diva. If you've been nice to me, none of this would have been necessary."

He glared back at her. She'd finally had enough. "Fine. Maybe I'll get lucky and you'll get blown up like your rust bucket parents. Make sure I'm not invited to the funeral."

She snatched a pen from the table and signed on the dotted line. Rolling it up, she thrust it to his chest. "Now, begone!"

He stared at her, the roll held in his limp hands. "You really hate me...?"

Petunia grabbed the collar of his jacket and pulled him towards the door. He let her drag him passively. "I thought you just enjoyed the fighting."

"No." She said plainly. "You like the drama and arguing. You like correcting people. You just didn't want to believe that I'd loathe you along with the rest of the world."

She shoved him to the door roughly. He stared at the roll in his hand, looking completely taken aback by her reaction.

"What did I do?" Harry asked, still not meeting her eyes. "What's my fault?"

Petunia shook her head and opened the door. Sally, Sirius and the two boys where loitering by the gate. They looked up at the aunt and the nephew.

"You aren't normal. You're not my family. Those shields better be up by tomorrow or I will shoot you."

She shoved him out with surprising strength. She caught the sight of his face. Lily looked back at her. Petunia slammed the door shut trying to convince herself that she didn't regret it.

Harry was still staring numbly at the parchment where his aunt had signed. That had hurt a lot more than he'd expected. Sure, he knew there'd be some kind of disappointment but to be rejected like trash made him want to swallow harshly to get rid of the heaviness that had permanently settled in his chest.

He exhaled and looked up at the four people, standing by the gate. Waving the parchment over his head and walking towards them, he said, "Told you I'd get it."

"Harry..."

"What?" He looked up expectantly, hating the pity he could see in their eyes.

"You okay?" Percy asked, frowning. His hands were twitching as though he'd wanted to shake sense into someone.

"Fine. I'm fine. Let's go. Oh, she wants the new wards to be up soon."

Sirius nodded, tight lipped about what he wanted to say. Harry sighed, wishing they'd forget it. He turned around but then stopped and looked back at them, "Just a sec. Can you see me limp?"

Sirius, Sally, DJ and Percy looked at him, slightly wide eyed and said, "Nope."

"Not at all."

"Not one bit."

"No."

Harry raised his eyebrows. He let out a snort which made DJ cough.

The thing about having to live with each other in one household, they'd learnt to pick up cues and hints of what to be said and what had to be heard. Was that what was meant to be a family? More like an impractical group of people. But Harry wouldn't trade them away.

"Right." He said and they crossed the street to Mrs. Figg's house. The lady, who'd known about the Wizarding World all along ('I knew it!' 'No, you didn't, Percy') had apparently been keep a reflexive eye on Harry's days pre-Hogwarts. Harry hadn't taken that bit of news too happily, mostly because he hadn't been able to figure it out for himself. Mrs. Figg was a Squib, born to magical parents but being non-magical gave her a sharp edge against the two worlds. She was an informant of sorts to Dumbledore. It didn't appeal the man to Harry in the least.

"I don't like the Floo." Percy muttered as Sirius offered them some floo powder. They stood in front of the fireplace. Once of Mrs. Figg's cats was watching them lazily from its perch on the mantle place.

"At least you land on your feet." Harry pointed out. He didn't like flooing either. It made him too dizzy too fast and he always tripped when he reached the destination.

It was no different this time.

Remus was waiting for them when they reached Frost. The mansion seemed smaller once furniture and all their stuff was set in. The feeling of having settled in a house together made them feel closer automatically.

While Harry and Percy untangled their limbs after having fallen over while landing, Remus lifted an envelope and waved to towards Sirius. "Mantis sent a proposal of Saturdays during school term. That sounds reasonable to me."

"Good." Sirius said shaking the soot from his hair like a dog. While Sally brushed out the dirt from DJ's jacket, she looked up, "Is that the doctor you were talking about?"

"Healer." DJ corrected.

"Retired Healer." Sirius added, opening the envelope to read the short message. "He's taken up a counselling practice in a clinic. It's close to St. Mungo's and highly recommended."

Harry nearly dropped his glasses from where he'd been wiping them. "The counsellor you were thinking of for me?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

Harry looked towards Percy who shrugged. "He prefers knowing things before hand."

Remus sat down at the table to look at the scroll of parchment where Mrs. Dursley had signed. "Did it go well?"

"You mean, did it go smoothly as in did my aunt invite us for tea, organized a group party, signed the papers and sent us on our way? No."

"She hasn't changed much in her attitude." Sirius said with a half frown. He shook the letter towards Harry who took it and read through.

Hr. Aron B. Mantis, 64, Certified Expert for Underage Witches and Wizards' Therapy.

Harry held in a sigh as he went through the details. Apparently, he was scheduled for a session the next day and would have to go for individual sessions every Saturday morning during the first half of his fifth year. There was no mention of group therapy.

"Did you do a background check on Mantis?" Harry asked. Sirius sat next to Remus ready for the interrogation, "Yes."

"Proficiency?"

"Highly qualified."

"Recommendations?"

"From Muriel Weasley and Willy Widdershins."

"Previous occupation?"

"Major key-hole operation healer."

"Expertise in mind knowledge?"

"Extensive theory and practical records."

"Case Study?"

"Research papers on magical children and stress effects with demanding jobs."

"Family?"

"Really now?" Sally interrupted. "I don't think family matters, here. He's here to help us and he's qualified to do so."

"But I should know a bit about him before I unlock my head and dump everything that's up here onto his note pad." Harry exclaimed, not looking forward to it at all.

Percy sniggered, clearly having imagined the scenario. "Shut up." Harry mumbled.

"I hear just talking about stuff helps clear a lot of things." DJ piped up. He'd removed his scarf and dusted it. "It's not like he's gonna psych evaluate you. He's just a listener."

"A paid listener."

"A good listener. And he'll give advice."

"Have you even met him?"

DJ wrinkled his nose. Remus leaned in. "Yes. And he's a likeable character."

Harry ran a hand through his hair. He didn't like the case. Everyone was of the opinion that he had to see a professional and get his head examined, but really, all Harry wanted was a good night's sleep.

He hadn't been able to stop himself from wretched nightmares of Voldemort, green lights, giant snakes and spiders and the lot. He still felt his knee burn when he put too much weight over it. It would take another few days for the bone to heal completely. He could put up with the pain. It was physical and he could feel an amount of control by ignoring it and busying himself with working his phone through magic.

It was the sleepless nights that had been taxing him. Madam Pomfrey had refused to let him take anymore Sleeping Potion since he'd already had some of it during the year, at least once a month as he recalled. One vial of the stuff and it was lights out – a beautiful feeling. No fear, no nightmares and no hopeless worrying that someone was about to attack him from behind. Eight hours of solid dreamlessness was a coveted gem and he would not mind that. But the matron had minded and had been stern with him, telling him that he'd have to focus on healing more than resting. They sounded the same things to him, but he didn't argue.

Well, as long as Mantis the counsellor would prescribe Sleeping Potion or at least Dreamless Sleep draughts, Harry'd be fine. The summer after his fourth year would hopefully be less exciting than the previous term, but they'd rather not hold their breaths. Percy and Harry were bound to go to Camp after all.

While Harry, Sirius and Remus were at the clinic, Sally and Percy were busy with clearing up his room. DJ had seen the cyclonic mess that Percy had always been able to manage and had immediately opted out. It was amazing to discover how many shades of blue existed by simply observing Percy's stuff. The guy had blue clothes, bags, toothbrush, paste, deo, books, phone cover, earphones, headphones, watch, bed sheets, curtains... and at the top of the list, the glass in his room's windows were tinted blue which created a blue-green effect over the room due to sun light.

Percy said the light reminded him of his cabin at Camp. DJ decided to try and outdo him by colour co-ordinating his room in shades of red, brown and black. Red and gold would have been too much like his dorm at Gryffindor tower. There was a limit for him.

DJ grabbed an autobiography titled, The Modern Demigod, by Ajax Furor. Annabeth had given them a set of books that she'd thought could have something to do with wizards, since there were a lot of references to Hecate and magic wielders. DJ sat on the front porch outside Frost and commenced with the story, when a sleek, black and shiny limo pulled up on the road in front of the gates.

He paused, wondering if he should alert Percy and Sally. There was enough protection around the house that only let in people who meant no harm, but it wasn't everyday that one could see a grand and expensive limo drive across the barely tarred roads of Gretna Green.

DJ stood up and took out his wand without really thinking about it. The last passenger door of the limo swung open and a small boy stepped out.

From all the guesses DJ could have had, he would not have expected Nico to come back home in a limo.

Nico ran up to the front of the car and leaned in through the window to talk to the driver. With the glass down, DJ could see a corpse with peeling skin and bloody uniform nodding blankly at what Nico said.

He climbed down the stairs and strolled along the drive way towards the gate. He was surprised that Nico was back. Considering that the boy's sister had abandoned him for a post among the Hunters and that Camp was not so big on accepting sons of Hades, it was not shocking to hear that he'd run away. DJ knew what it felt like, being singled out and alone for no reason or fault of one's own.

The limo drove away, bouncing slightly on the road and Nico looked stringy and nervous, staring at DJ who opened the gates.

"Hey."

Nico nodded.

DJ smiled. "Cool limo."

"Thanks. My d... Hades sent it for me." Nico let out a lame gesture. "I was... well, I'd ended up in China."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

" 'Kay. Who was the driver?"

Nico slumped near the wall, looking very out of place in his slightly ragged clothes, "Rex. NASCAR racer. Met with an accident a while back in the 1950s."

DJ coughed. Apparently, Hades was quite biased when it came to his kids. That sounded good, right? From what he'd heard from Percy, most gods didn't care about the demigods.

"Right. You hungry?"

And here we go! There wasn't enough Nico word time in this chapter, but I'll make it up. Stay tuned, people!

Q: Who was not entirely themselves in their first year at Hogwarts?

Cabba.