"Harry Potter and the Prince of Olympus"

By Loki Palmer

Author's Note: Harry Potter and all related characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 25

The Olympians retired into another room with Frank and Alice Longbottom.

"What? Are you so surprised to see us, Nikos?" said Frank.

"After the Potters died, we thought you … were dead … since we didn't hear from you," said Michaela, trying to get over her shock.

"No, Michaela … Bellatrix Lestrange tortured us to the point where our minds locked themselves away … we were trying to protect Neville," said Alice.

"It seems to me from what we've seen from Sir Neville for the past year," said Hades, "they were trying to protect Bellatrix Lestrange FROM Sir Neville."

The Olympians laughed at this. "Getting back to the subject," said Patrick, "your minds were locked away … until when?"

"Until the day Iris died, Lord Palmer," said Frank.

"Please … we are family here. You may call me Patrick, if you so wish."

"Maybe when I am comfortable, Your Highness."

"Fine. I imagine Sir Neville is grateful for the return of his parents, and so We shall allow the three of you to have some time together at Longbottom Manor during the summer, if you wish it. Of course, as members of his family, you are always welcome within the halls of Olympus."

"Thank you, Your Highness. We shall be back in a few days."

"You're welcome."

When the three Longbottoms left, Ares turned to Patrick. "Your Highness, I can't wait to see how your new Knight will do in a game of Capture the Flag."

"Are you sure about that, Uncle Ares?"

"Why does Your Highness ask?"

"He's mighty destructive," said Hephaestus. "His Highness thinks that Sir Neville will smash anybody going against him."

"I bet ten δραχμαι that Sir Neville will smash his competition in Capture the Flag," said Hermes. "I also bet twenty δραχμαι that Ares cries like a baby. Do I have any takers?"

Later, when Neville came back, they had that game of Capture the Flag. Much to the shock of everyone involved, Hermes, Patrick, Hermione, Athena, and the others who took those bets won them. The Ares kids were arrogant enough to think they could take down Sir Neville, and ended up in the Infirmary – much to the grief of Ares. The Olympian nickname that stuck to Sir Neville was "The Tank."

~HP&PO~

"Well, well, well – if it isn't my favorite family of redheads, the Weasleys."

Patrick, Hermione, Harry, Lacey, Nikos, Michaela, Benji, Sirius, and Remus were together in Diagon Alley to do some shopping for the upcoming year when they came upon the Weasleys. Arthur Weasley, a balding man, shook Patrick's hand first.

"Your Highness, such a pleasure to meet you at last. My name's Arthur Weasley, and I work in the Ministry's Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. My wife, Molly, is a stay at home mom –"

"Your Highness," she said with a curtsy.

"Most of the family you know already, like Percy, Fred and George, Ron. The smallest one you haven't met yet – my daughter Ginny."

Patrick crouched down. "Hi, Ginny."

Ginny, for her part, looked at him with wide eyes, not sure of what to say.

"Pat, I think you're scaring her," said Hermione.

"Oh, that's nonsense, Hermione! Maybe she's just shy!"

"Maybe, Milord -" said a grinning Sirius, "she is in awe of Milord's big, rippling muscles."

Remus and Benji guffawed at this.

"There's nothing to fear, Ginny," said Hermione. "By default, he's warm, soft, and very adorable."

With a smile on her face, Ginny leaped into Patrick's arms to hug him. Since he was still crouching, the impact knocked him onto his back as the other Weasleys and his entourage cracked up in laughter.

"Are you okay, Pat?" said Harry.

"I'm fine, Harry. That was quite deliberate, I assure you." He heard the click of a camera. "MOM!"

"What? It was a cute moment for you, and you don't expect me to take a picture of it?"

Ginny was still smiling. "Don't worry, Pat. I'm not interested in anything but your friendship from you."

Patrick breathed a sigh of relief.

Hermione looked down at her. "Good, Ginny, because if you try to steal him from me, I will freeze you and stick your carcass somewhere out in the Arctic, do we have an understanding?"

"Yes … Milady."

"Hermione's fine, I assure you. I hope we can be friends."

"I would enjoy that, Hermione."

~HP&PO~

When the group arrived at Flourish and Blotts, they found it packed with screaming fangirls.

Patrick looked at the sign and frowned. "The one day we come here to get our books happens to be the same as an author's book signing? Gilderoy Lockhart? Who is that guy?"

Molly's face was open in shock. "You don't know who Gilderoy Lockhart is?"

"Is he a writer of popular, sappy, angst-ridden romance stories? Most, if not all, of his fan base here is female."

"No, Milord, he is not. Did you not see the book list yet?"

"Not yet … Hermione has it." Hermione gave him the list. "Thank you." He read down the list. "Okay … our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is either a fan of Gilderoy Lockhart, or is Gilderoy Lockhart. Either way, I've never heard of him before now."

"He's the most popular author in the Wizarding World at the moment. He has been at the top of Witch Weekly's bestseller list for 40 weeks straight."

"Mrs. Weasley, with all due respect to your gender, I'm a guy. Why should I care about Witch Weekly's bestseller list? I don't read chick lit."

"I beg your pardon, Milord?"

"Chick lit, Mrs. Weasley, is literature that is made for female readers – like Twilight, for instance."

All the non-Weasley males with Patrick groaned. "Nice way to pick an example there, Pat," said Harry.

"Would Milord care to explain?"

"Sure. Twilight is a series of four books centered around a romance between an ordinary girl, Bella Swan, a vampire, Edward Cullen, and a werewolf, Jacob Black. Problem is, the girl is angst-ridden, whiny, also a bit of a retard … not at all a role model I would want for a daughter."

"It's awful, Mrs. Weasley," said Lacey. "Trust us on that."

"Now, about this book list … 'Travels with Trolls'? No thanks, I would much rather kill them. After all, it was a troll that attacked Hermione last year, not to mention the hatred is in my blood already."

Hermione decided to explain that. "Trolls, it turns out, are descended from the jotunn, or frost-giants of Norse mythology. Patrick's maternal ancestor, Thor, hated them with a passion."

"It doesn't help that they are some of the stupidest creatures on the planet. 'Break with a Banshee'? How in Tartarus would anyone even tolerate a banshee? 'Holidays with Hags,' oh, yeah, that's a brilliant name. The only hag I can think of would have been Medusa, and she was ugly enough to turn a person she looked at to stone. She wasn't someone to spend a holiday with. What kinds of book names are these?"

~HP&PO~

Gilderoy Lockhart was a young man with blonde hair and a dazzling, charismatic smile – about somewhere in his early 30s. Looking up through the crowd, he saw – "Harry Potter and Patrick Palmer? Can it really be you?"

"Who wants to know?"

"Would the both of you like to come down and have a picture with me?"

They looked at each other, then back at Lockhart. "Nope."

"Harry," said Lacey, "it might be fun!"

"Lacey, no! I don't want anymore publicity, thank you very much!"

"I say the same as Harry."

"Honestly, the two of you can't help being popular! Now get your hot arses up there!"

With some pushing, shoving, and plenty of protests, Harry and Patrick made it to the front. Lockhart grabbed Harry on one side, Patrick on the other, saying, "Big smile, lads – together, the three of us make the front page." A camera flashed, and Lockhart started a speech:

"Ladies and Gentlemen, when Lords Patrick Palmer and Harry Potter stopped by here to pick up my autobiography – Magical Me – which I am handing to them free of charge – they had no idea that they would also receive the REAL Magical Me, as I have decided to take up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As another bonus, I am giving them all of my collected works –" here he shoved two large piles of books into their arms "also free of charge."

CRASH! The two young Lords fell down together under the accumulated weight of the books.

~HP&PO~

"Bet you loved that, didn't you Palmer? You two are so famous, you can't walk into a bookshop without making the front page of the Daily Prophet."

The drawling voice, platinum-blonde hair, and general air of arrogance could only belong to one person: Draco Malfoy.

"Just when I thought my day could not get any worse, you show up, Ferret Face. What do you want?"

"Meh, nothing, really. I just came here to look down my nose at the dumb cattle around here that royalty like yourself call subjects," he said, ripping a page out of a book.

Patrick could see the anger boiling in Hermione's mind. "Calm yourself," he thought to her. She went on to think of an angry mob dragging Malfoy away for sacrilege, crying, "BURN HIM! BURN HIM!" They smiled at the thought.

The relaxed state of affairs was not to last,. A taller man arrived behind Draco, longer hair, same shade. "Well, well, well, Draco … playing nice, are we?"

"Lord Malfoy, I presume?" said Harry.

"Indeed, Lord Potter … we meet at last. Your scar is legend … as is, of course, the one who gave it to you."

"Voldemort killed my parents. He was nothing more than a cold-blooded murderer."

"You must be so brave to pronounce his name, Lord Potter … or quite foolish."

"Fear of a name increases fear of what it names," said Hermione.

"Ah, Lady Palmer. Draco's told me all about you and your parents … Muggles, if I'm not mistaken?"

There was a growl from Patrick as the sky darkened and lightning flashed outside. "Oh, I'm sorry, Lord Palmer – did I strike a nerve?"

"Well, Lord Malfoy, it's like this: when I get angry, I have to discharge it somewhere lest it gets to be too much for me to handle."

"Well, we certainly don't want that scenario, do we, Lord Palmer?" He extended his hand to Patrick, who shook it. Upon contact, a surge of electricity went up Lucius's arm, who withdrew it in a hurry.

"Oh, I'm sorry – my skin reacts like that when it senses Evil, and you, Lord Malfoy, are crawling with it."

"The Force is strong in you, Lord Palmer – though I must caution you to watch your temper."

"For my part, I must caution you not to set me off – the consequences would be disastrous."

Lucius felt a soft tapping on his shoulder. "Oh, hey, Lucy, how have you been? I forgot to tell you … Mother called. She wants her pink ballet tutu back."

This comment of Benji O'Dolios set off a round of laughter, followed by more laughter as Michaela said, "Oh, Lucy, you've got a bow in your hair! Don't tell me you've come out of the closet already!"

A smiling and chuckling Nikos said, "Now, Michaela … Benji … we don't want to give Lucy a heart attack … or do we?"

"And have one less person to pick on? With all due respect, Uncle Nikos, I have to ask: Are you crazy?"

"The jury's still out on that question, Benji. Back to Lucy here: how long has it been since we've last seen your arrogant face?"

"Not long enough … Nikos."

Patrick cracked his knuckles. "Looks like bad guys are back on the menu!"

The entire area of Diagon Alley shook and echoed with Lucius's screams …

Author's Note: Well, I feel that is some of the funniest stuff I've written! There will be more to come. More reviews, please?

Smiles,

Loki Palmer