A/N: Yay, reviews~! ^-^
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For Want of Family
Chapter Thirteen
Harry stared in awe at the Creatures moving about in the cage, as Hagrid (Professor Hagrid! Wasn't that amazing?! ...Though it explained the snarling, biting Monster Book of Monsters. Hagrid would make it their book...) made sure to help everyone silence their books with a firm stroke of their spines.
"'Ippogriffs!" he introduced cheerfully, pointing at all the massive Creatures, before launching into a cheerful introduction and rather nice explanation on what they were, where they came from, what to do with them, and what they ate. They were beautiful, majestic, but Harry felt a slow churn of nervousness.
Unlike Pegasus, these Creatures were carnivores.
"Tha's a lad, 'Arry!" Hagrid cheered, and the thirteen-year-old's head jerked around, noticing how everyone else had taken several steps back, leaving him standing alone.
"Wait, what?!" He yelped, as the large Professor urged him into the cage/paddock, and towards one of the Creature. It's eagle half was draped in beautiful blue-gray, gray, and white feathers, with orange-amber eyes and a sharp gray-black beak, while it's horse-half was a dark mahogany brown, with black down it's legs. It cocked its head sharply, eyeing the Demigod with interest, and Harry gulps.
Oh, Gods, please don't eat me! he thought fearfully, looking up at his friend/professor desperately.
"Now, don' be afraid, 'Arry," Hagrid encouraged him warmly as he "gently" pushed Harry towards the beast, making the small boy stumble and almost fall, green eyes huge and glasses slipping dangerously down his nose. "Don't meet 'is eyes!" the large man hissed, and Harry quickly looked away, though he wanted nothing more than to keep his eyes glued on the large carnivorous Creature. "Now, bow," Hagrid urged and, reluctantly, Harry did so, and froze, eyes on the ground and muscles locked tight. The Hippogriff made a strange, warbling noise in it's throat, and flapped it's wings once, before it carefully bowed forward, it's soft crest feathers brushing against Harry's hair, and a shuddering, slow breath escaped the young demigods mouth as, with some urging from his beaming professor, he straightened up, the Hippogriff ("Buckbeak!" Hagrid introduced cheerfully) doing the same.
"Good job there, 'Arry!" the large man cheered, and Harry sent him a slightly-shaky smile, twitching sharply in surprise as Buckbeak took the initiative of bumping his beak into the boy's shoulder, nearly knocking him down, before warbling again and dragging his sharp, curved beak through Harry's messy hair. Instinctively, Harry's hands raised and dug themselves into the feathers along Buckbeak's neck and chest, earning a coo. Hesitantly, he stroked those soft feathers and, after a moment, found himself beginning to relax.
This isn't so bad, he thought to himself as Buckbeak nuzzled against the side of his head.
"Righ'," Hagrid announced, clapping his large hands together cheerfully. "I think 'e'll let ya ride 'im now, 'Arry!"
"Wait, what?!" Harry yelped, but it was too late, Hagrid was already scooping the small Third Year up by the back of his robes and dropping him on Buckbeak's back and, with a sharp smack to the Hippogriff's rump, set the large carnivore off with a scree sound of offence, and only a call of "Watch for th' feather's, 'Arry!". Harry felt his leg muscles ache in protest as he tightened his hold, arms thrown around the Creature's neck as he clung like a koala while Buckbeak flew, the strange up-and-down, bobbing motion of the Hippogriff drastically different from broom flight, but, as his heart slowed and the wind continued to blow his hair about wildly, and Buckbeak's pace continued steadily, Harry found himself relaxing and slowly, ever-so-slowly, sitting up, breath catching as he squinted his eyes behind his glasses, witnessing the Forbidden Forest way below, and the Black Lake stretched beautifully before him, fog ghosting along the far shore as the Hippogriff flew towards the water. A startled laugh escaped him as they flew, and, abruptly exhilarated, Harry flung his arms wide and laughed, feeling his Fire dance joyfully beneath his skin, setting him to glowing in the dim, cloudy lighting of the over-cast day, grinning so widely his face hurt.
When they, eventually, made their way back to the paddock and Harry's classmates, Harry had firmly decided that, scary or not, he was definitely getting on one of the Pegasus come summer.
"That. Was. Brilliant," he announced giddily as Buckbeak came to a landing, the thirteen-year-old sliding off his back, only to be forced to lean against the large Creature's shoulders when his legs, having been over-worked during the ride, threatened to give out. Hagrid beamed at him proudly, even as the other students murmured amongst one another, eager to try their hands at riding one of the magnificent beasts.
"Excellent, 'Arry!" Hagrid all but chirped, and turned to the rest of the class. "Let's see 'ow you lot do, then, shall we?" And so, the class separated and moved carefully towards their chosen Hippogriffs, eager to learn all they could.
It was a wonderful first class for Hagrid...
And Harry got to see Malfoy chewed out by another Slytherin when the blond was stupid enough to insult one of the Hippogriffs and nearly got the other boy hurt along with his idiotic self.
All in all, a great day.
~(Line Break)~
"Riddikulus!" Lavender shouted at the Boggart, turning her massive, ugly rat into a confused-looking kitten in a clown outfit, causing laughter which forced the Boggart back into the wardrobe it had come from, before Lavender moved off to the side, leaving Harry for last. For a second, it looked as if Professor Lupin would interfere, but he seemed to decide against it, and nodded for Harry to step forward.
"Whenever you're ready," the Professor offered cautiously; Harry took a deep breath, wondering what his fear was, before nodding at the older, sickly Wizard who, with a deep breath, pulled open the door and stepped out of sight, leaving Harry to face what came out.
Immediately, there was what looked like a fire that had gone out, the coals cold and dead and, lying in front of it, her face as gray as the ashes, lay Hestia in her eight-year-old form, her hands coated in soot from where she had attempted to keep the fire going. Her dress was burned and tattered, her hair blackened from smoke from when she'd bent over the fire, and Harry felt his world shatter.
He hadn't even realized his wand had fallen from limp fingers, his breath stuttering too-fast from his chest, face colorless and eyes too-wide. In a flicker of second, just as Professor Lupin called out to him, trying to remind him that it wasn't real, his Fire Roared and he was suddenly coated. The fire, so hot it was nearly blue, exploded out of him and towards the Boggart as Harry, uncaring of the terrified, alarmed screams from his classmates, could only stare forward listlessly. The Sacred Fire touched the Boggart and three things happened...
And the Boggart screamed.
Harry's vision went black.
Hestia, alarmed, called out to him.
~(Line Break)~
"Potter!" a voice called; Harry bit back a tired sigh, reaching up to rub the bridge of his nose as he turned towards the voice, bloodshot eyes narrowed slightly.
"What do you want, Smith?" He asked wearily; the Son of Aphrodite eyed him cautiously, taking in the dark circles under his eyes, his clammy skin and dull hair, and the flicker of fire that had been a constant glow under his skin since the Boggart Incident two months previously.
"...You look like shite," he informed the boy bluntly, his inner perfectionist utterly appalled at the other boy's state. As Harry's green eyes lit with flames in irritation, the Hufflepuff quickly lifted his hands in a pacifying gesture before he could get burnt to a crisp. "Sorry, sorry, geez," he muttered, before pulling a fancy letter from his pocket, the Gringotts symbol on it, and Harry blinked tiredly, and wondered if this had anything to do with the letter he'd sent to Griphook the week before the Boggart Lesson, asking about any Hufflepuff Artifacts within the Potter Family Vaults and, if so if he could check said items to see if there were any direct blood descendants who they could be given too (namely the Smiths, he had added in parenthesis). Griphook had written back with a long letter scolding Harry for being willing to just hand out Founders Artifacts, but also telling him that the only thing that was within the Potter Vaults that was related to the Hufflepuff line, was a badger broach that had belonged to Helga's mother and had ended up being given to Godric as a gag-gift, and that it could technically belong to the Smith Family. Harry had then told the Goblin to ask the Smiths if they wanted it, and thanked the Goblin for his work, and that had been the last of that.
"Badger Broach?" the exhausted Third Year asked the Hufflepuff bluntly, too tired from constant nightmares since the Boggart to really try being tactful or subtle. Zacharias blinked cautiously, then nodded at him.
"As a result of this, the Smith Family has decided to annul the Feud between us," he told the other boy, sounding rather formal even as he stuffed the letter back into his pocket with a sniff. "So, we no longer have any quarrel, you and I." Harry blinked tiredly at him, forehead wrinkling in confusion.
"I had no quarrel with you to begin with, Smith," he told the other boy, who huffed and rolled his eyes.
"Whatever, Potter," he grumbled, pouting slightly, before finally he shook his head and twitched his hands towards the smaller boy, an annoyed look passing through his pretty brown eyes as his fingers fluttered at Harry. "Alright, I can't let this go one for one more bloody second," he announced, and, before Harry could stop him, Zacharias was on him, hands flashing about the smaller boy's uniform and hair neatly for a few minutes, and Harry's skin tingled strangely as he felt something that reminded him of Camp Half-Blood. When the Son of Aphrodite stepped away with a critical eye, Harry found himself in a neatly pressed, smart looking uniform, his hair shining and clean, and his clammy skin back to its normal, healthy tone. Staring down at his hands in bewildered wonder (His bloody nails were shining and professionally done!), Zacharias conjured a mirror with a pleased look, and Harry stared at his reflection in wonder. His eyes were still blood-shot, but the heavy bags were gone, and his teeth were whiter then they had ever been before, even his bloody eyebrows were neatly arched and perfected.
"There!" The Hufflepuff announced, pleased with his handiwork. "I may not be as good as my half-sister's when it comes to prettying someone up, but I can improvise enough to clean you up. Get some sleep, Potter," he ordered, banishing the mirror once Harry had looked his fill. "You'll make yourself sick." With that parting statement/warning, the blond turned with a small, unconscious flick of his hair, and stalked off, nose in the air as Harry stared after him, befuddled.
"...Thanks?" He offered the empty space Zacharias had been moments before, before slowly turning, and heading back towards the Owlry, where he had been on his way to, ready to send some letters off to Luke and his other friends, including Mr. D.
It was his strangest encounter yet, honestly.
~(Line Break)~
SIRIUS BLACK, INNOCENT!
My dearest Readers, the above statement is, incredibly, true! Early this morning, one Sirius Orion Black, Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, was, before the entire Wizengamot, with Veritaserum and Pensieve Memories both, and was found completely and utterly innocent!
In fact, it was discovered that the true traitor to the Potters, was, in fact, Peter Pettigrew, who it has been discovered, was in actuality a Rat Animagus.
"Apparently, when Lord Black hunted down the worthless traitor," tells a Ministry Source, "Pettigrew started hollerin' 'bout how Black had betrayed the Potters, before he blew up the street, cut off his own finger, transformed into a rat, and skivvied off down into the sewers!"
After witnessing such a horrible event, and feeling guilty for having been the one to suggest making Pettigrew the Secret Keeper for the Potters, Lord Black suffered from a brief hysteria, and was found laughing wildly at the scene of Pettigrew's crime. After that, he was witnessed within the Holding Cells, repeatedly saying "I killed them, I killed them", which was, in those dark times, as an admission of guilt and, as a result, landed the young Black in Azkaban for what would become twelve horrible, torturous years.
"It was an understandable, if horrendous, mistake," Minister Cornelius Fudge informed me kindly after questioned on the lack of trial. "The Dark Lord had just been defeated, Death Eaters were being arrested left and right, and attacking just as often, and, when a man believed to be the betrayer of such an honorable and well-known Light Family as the Potters, is heard saying he killed them, well, mistakes are made in the heat of the moment, you see? We are human, after all." With those compassionate words in mind, our empathetic Minister pardoned Lord Black, and gave him 100,000 Galleons for every year he was wrongfully imprisoned in Azkaban.
Lord Black is currently residing in St. Mungos until he has fully recovered from his long stay, but he fully intends on taking rightful Guardianship of Godson, who is non-other than Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived.
~(Line Break)~
Harry waved goodbye to Hagrid, Scabbers all but unconscious in his grip, having gorged himself on some plant Hagrid kept that was like a Sleeping drought for animals under a certain weight-class. The rat would wake in a day or so, but would otherwise remain dead to the world, and Hagrid had asked the Third Year if he could take the "poor thing" back to the Gryffindor Dorms with him so that Fang wouldn't be tempted to eat it. Harry had agreed, and had every plan to simply drop the rat in Ron's bed and be done with it.
Making his way through the grounds towards the Castle, the setting sun lending and eerie light to the area, Harry peered up at the cloudy sky, and wondered if he'd make it back to the castle before full-dark fell.
"Boy," a voice ordered suddenly from behind him, and Harry whirled around, instinctively pulling Scabbers closer, eyes wide. Behind him stood a young girl, her auburn hair wild and curly in its ponytail, silvery-yellow eyes flashing as the sun sank below the horizon, brining twilight over the Forbidden Forest and School Grounds and making her beautiful face even lovelier in the oncoming night. She looked to be around twelve-years-old, dressed in black leggings and a silver, shimmering shirt, a black half-jacket over it, and a silver bow, arrow knocked, in her hands.
"...Hello?" Harry managed, eyes wide, as the girl eyed him coolly.
"I am Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt," the girl informed him simply, and pointed at the rat held to the young boy's chest. "My Father tasked me with the collection of one Peter Pettigrew, a Betrayer, and my path had been lead to him." She held out her hand, which was suddenly holding a silver cage that looked like it had been wrought with pure moonlight, and, for a moment, something dangerous passed through her gaze.
"Give the vermin to me."
Harry stared at her, wide-eyed, but slowly obeyed, setting the unconscious rat into her cage carefully. The Goddess nodded at him curtly, turned, and walked away without another word, disappearing into the ominous darkness of the Forbidden Forest without a flicker of hesitance and, as soon as she was within the trees, she disappeared, the Forest itself seemingly protecting her from sight.
Harry stared in bewilderment after her, his rapid, nervous heartbeat starting to finally slow from the scare she'd given him.
"Goddesses are weird…" Shaking his head, the thirteen-year-old quickly turned and scurried off towards the school, eager to get back inside and sit near the Common Room Fire, wanting the reassuring heat and company opposed to his private rooms.
~(Line Break)~
"Hello, my Harry," Hestia greeted her Firstborn lovingly as he got off the Hogwarts Express, and the boy grinned brightly, not even hesitating to throw his arms around the currently-adult-shaped Goddess.
"Hullo, Mum," he murmured against her stomach, breathing in her familiar fire-place scent with a happy sigh. Nearby, the recently-outted Werewolf, Remus Lupin, was watching with wide eyes next to the healthier looking, if still gaunt, form of Sirius Black, who was looking rather amused but also fascinated. Harry knew that his Mum had gone to see the two of them, after Remus had moved in with the Lord Black after having to quick, thanks to the actions of one Severus Snape exposing his... Affliction. The fact that she was Harry's Second Mother hadn't endeared her at first, honestly, but Hestia's abilities made it virtually impossible for anyone to dislike her.
"Ready to go to Camp, Pup?" Sirius asked him curiously; Harry smiled shyly up at the man from his Mum's side, an arm still tight around her waist. The two had exchanged several letters since his trial, and a Communication Mirror as well, and got along rather well. Sirius was a little pouty that he didn't get to spend the summer with his Godson (and wasn't it hilarious that he had a DemiGOD GODson!), but he understood that Harry needed proper training in his Godly Inheritance, and they had all agreed that the boy would spend the last week of Summer Vacation with the Animagus, and they had gotten Mr. D to agree to allow Sirius and Remus both to come onto Camp Grounds for his Fourteenth Birthday.
Sirius had originally wanted to bring Harry to the World Cup, but the boy had insisted on not going, especially when he found out that, in order to get their tickets, they would have to take the places of a few people who had most likely bought the tickets months in advance, which seemed to honestly be both rude and overly-extravagant in Harry's opinion. Sirius had just been mildly horrified that His Godson, who had learned the Patronus Charm in three weeks (having asked for the lessons from Remus after a particularly dangerous Quidditch Game during the year. His Patronus was a huge Grizzly Bear, and he had had to endure so many "Mama Bear" jokes from his Godfather it had been ridiculous), was the Youngest Seeker in a Century, and had so many adventures each year it was terrifying, had been against booting a few people out of the Top Box.
Of course, then Remus handed him a large, old book about the Gods and Sirius fully blamed Hestia for everything, which had earned him a fond laugh from the Goddess when he informed her of it.
"More than ready for Camp," Harry reassured the Animagus, who grinned fondly at him and ruffled his hair, grin turning wicked when the boy huffed at him in mild irritation, wild locks becoming more so with the slight teasing.
"Let's go then, shall we?" Remus offered quietly, a soft smile on his haggard, sickly features; Harry nodded and, grabbing onto Sirius and Remus' hands, he lead them through the Platform's Floo, Hestia disappearing after them with a sweet smile, pleased that her son was feeling better after his Boggart scare.
It was good to see her son happy and warm again.
A/N: Here you go, my uncle controls the computer, so updates will be sporadic and random, srry.
Also, I'm horrible at writing newspaper articles, srry about that, heh heh...
GREEK CORNER!
So, no one seems to realize that the Gods and Goddesses are purveyors of so much more than shown in the PjatO books...
Like, Look:
Hestia, Goddess of: House & Home, Civic Hearth, Family Hearth, Sacrificial Flame, and Family. Her other "Halves" are the Roman Goddess Vesta, and the Scythian Goddess, Tabiti.
She doesn't really have any Sacred Animals, flowers, or really anything like it. Her Alters were small, in home and personal things, her Symbol was the Hearth, and her Attributes were the Kettle or Kettleburn, and a modest head-veil. It was suggested that her Sacred Animal was Swine, but it's not really clear...
Anyways, people have seen my other fic, Metal Wings and it's seen tehre in how I describe the Gods and such, but, like, Hermes is the Patron God of Shepherds and Guard Dogs. Also, a Pet Peeve of Mine, is people call Hades the God of the Dead, but, no. He is the God of Riches, King of the Underworld, and it's being King that gives him power over the dead. He is the God of money and precious stones (though that second part comes from the fact that, as King of the Underworld, all things underground are his). His sacred animal is actually Cerberus.
Anyways, a lot of people just don't use the lesser-known symbols and such that the Gods & Goddesses purvey over.
Thanks for all the feedback, guys! Sorry for such a long wait.
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