Disclaimer: I don't own anything, only the plot line actually belongs to me. I really need to write disclaimers before I begin writing, righting them all at once sucks. Especially when there's eight more to go. Wish me luck and enjoy the story.
Chapter 4
I didn't end up actually going to detention. Mainly because I was kidnapped, but how do you say no when your cousin asks you to make sure he doesn't accidently crash his sports car, which is also the sun, into the planet and kill all. Which was how I found myself in the front seat of his Maserati Spider with tunes cranking.
"See, this is so much better than detention," he crowed in amusement. I totally would have called him on bullshitting his excessive tiredness – some God of Truth he was, but he had showed me how to use the mist to make it look like I was in detention rather than doing something better with my time.
"So right," I said nodding and almost feeling lighter than I had in days, "But I thought that you weren't allowed to hang with Demigods cousin?" He laughed.
"After that thing with Gaia, you're kind of exempt. Like a loophole, so you should expect more of us to visit and stuff, just because we can," he explained smiling, dare I say it sunnily, "But that wasn't the only reason I picked you up."
"And why else did you pick me up?" I asked before snapping my mouth shut, wanting to stuff the words back in my mouth.
"To give you a physical, of course," he said sending a smouldering gaze my way. I laughed and hit him in the arm, which in hindsight doing that while he was still driving the sun may not have been the smartest idea.
"Your sister is right, you are an idiot," I said easily. There was a glimmer of sadness in his eyes even though he was smiling. I blinked and it was gone.
"Which sister?" he retorted.
"All of them," I answered cheekily, "Burn."
"Can't burn what's already too hot to touch, but you're still getting that physical," he said raising an eyebrow at me, daring me to nay-say.
"Not that kind of physical," I said to him still keeping up the banter, "You're not that lucky."
"And don't I know it, still," Apollo said wrapping his hand around my wrist using only his forefinger and his thumb, "This isn't healthy, or sexy and we have to get you back to your bootalicious self."
"Oh my Gods," I cried in horror, almost giggling, "I don't ever want to hear the word bootalicious come out of your mouth ever again."
"Bootalicious," I said smirking as I cringed, "Bootalicious, bootalicious, bootalicious."
"No, stop it," I cried the tiniest baby laugh slipping out of my mouth. He gasped.
"Was that a laugh? Was it?" he asked over the top, "I think it was, but I'm not sure. Come on you can do better than that. Bootalicious." I shook my head again, that little piece of happiness had burned coming out. Eventually that would go away, I just had to stay strong. Annabeth would forgive me, she would want me to be happy again.
On another less depressing note, I did end up getting the physical… no, not like that you pervs. He fixed me up and then told me to meet him every night for the week when I was supposed to be having detention, so he could heal a little bit more without 'Overloading my sensitive body so soon after its original power slam.' So I had something fun to look forward to each night. I told him about the room that I had found soon into my first year of Hogwarts. On the seventh floor there is a room that appears when you walk past it three times, and is whatever you need while you do so. Detention was officially replaced with archery. Apollo was determined to teach me, even if I was only able to hit things three feet behind me and slightly to the left. On a joint note, he now knows not to stand there anymore.
"Professor?" I asked holding up my arm with a smirk in Umbitches, the new school favourite slur, class. She ground her teeth in irritation. I had been asking frequent and pointed questions that worked on the knowledge of Voldemort's return and her capability as not only and educator or a witch but as a functioning bipedal. There was a betting pool on when she was going to snap.
"What now, Miss Potter?" she asked in her saccharine sweet voice.
"I was just wondering what it takes to be a qualified defence teacher and I thought you would be the best person to ask," I said in a blasé tone, "Obviously as our teacher, you would have to get some sort of degree in education or apprentice under a more experience professor. Which did you do?"
"I… we're reading now," she said irritated. I raised my hand.
"But professor, I really wanted to know," I continued, "I thought that with your opinion that the ministry and the minister is everything good and holy in the world, that they wouldn't hire such an unqualified person in such a crucial area, especially since you were only in administration before and have no practical experience, so which was it?"
"Critical area, Potter there are professionals trained to deal with threats, should any arise and there certainly isn't anything so severe that you would need to know anything to advanced," she said latching onto another topic to avoid answering the question.
"What about Sirius Black?" I asked catching her in a trap of her own making, "The ministry are making it clear that he's at large and so dangerous that the school was swarmed in Dementor's."
"I thought that you and your little friends thought he was innocent," she sneered, forgetting the faux sweet tone for a second before controlling herself, "Are you admitting your lies?"
"Considering I've seen Peter Pettigrew, once in third year where he admitted being my parent secret keeper and the second where he was resurrecting Voldemort," I said ignoring her screeching of lies and the flinching of my classmates, "But you don't believe that he is, so what's your excuse?"
"Enough," she shrieked, "Detention. How many times have I told you not to tell lies?"
"Then I'll refrain from complementing you," I said in a bored tone. She went from red to a puce colour and I thought for a moment I was mission complete and her short sighted mind was going to short circuit all over the floor.
"Get out. Get out. Get out!" she screamed in a fit. I smiled wanly at her.
"Of course," I replied standing and putting my bag over my shoulder, "But professor, you didn't answer my questions." She let out a wordless scream of fury and I turned and walked away victorious. On the walk to see Professor McGonagall I wondered if it was making any difference.
"Again Potter?" she said aghast as I knocked on the open doorway of her office.
"I think you ought to get used to it," I said to her plopping down on a seat, "Because I'm not going to stop." She sighed and poured herself a scotch. Taking a deep drink she turned back to me. Oh dear, I've driven the professor to drink.
"I told you to keep your head down," she said frustrated, "Why? Why keep getting yourself in detention and making a scene." I observed her for a moment before deciding to tell her the truth.
"Because this is more important. I'm doing something that has to be done," I said confidently.
"Get yourself in trouble? You really are your father's daughter," she said taking another swig. Yes I am, I thought in agreement. Both of them.
"No. I'm doing one better, I'm not just pissing her off," I explained carefully, "That just happens to be an extremely pleasant side effect. I'm asking questions. I'm asking question that her, and the ministry can't answer. I do this in class in front of my peers and soon with the Hogwarts gossip mill the whole school is asking these questions, and then they talk to their families, who talk to their friends and soon you have a whole community asking what's going on."
"Smart, but you don't fear the backlash of the resentment from you housemates for losing all those points, and with it the house cup?" she asked intelligently.
"Surprisingly good question," I said watching her let out a snort at my words, "I'll tell the people that confront me about it the same thing I'm going to tell you. Do you know what the house cup is? It's a hunk of flashy gold that shows which house was most easily manipulated that year."
"You weren't always so cynical were you?" she asked softly.
"You fought it the last war… you know that this is going to get bloody before it ends. The truth hurts and before it's over you're going to have to learn to cut your losses, whether it's your fifteen year old silliness or your pride," I answered in a tired tone, "I just want people to think for themselves."
"Ah yes, I've heard the gossip from your housemates and from the order, and I like to hope I'm not a sheep or a duck," she said smiling grimly, "Though I'd like to know, what's the difference?"
"I like to think that your far too clever to be either of those things professor," I state honestly, "The difference between the two is people go duck hunting for fun, and if you wait long enough you don't have to kill a sheep, because they'll walk into a slaughter house all on their own."
"True. Miss Potter, I never usually say this to someone sent to my office for bad behaviour so often but I want you to know that I am extremely proud of your maturity," she stated, "And to let you know that if my drinking habits get around the school Umbridge will be the least of your problems. Now off you go."
"I look forward to it," I said sending her a two fingered salute teasingly. She just looked at me for a moment before downing the rest of her glass and going for a refill.
I should probably point out that this is a story with Greek and Roman gods in it, and that there will being some unusual pairing and romantic interests. What with Zeus marrying his sister Hera, then having his daughter Persephone with his sister Demeter, who marries his brother Hades…. You get the gist. Just a heads up.
