The "Harry Potter" Saga, belongs to J.K. Rowling. The Saga "The Chronicles of Camp Half-Blood", belongs Rick Riordan.
Three Odd Demigoddesses.
10: All surprises are unexpected.
Throughout 1985, Dumbledore did not stop using his influence and his contacts, to make other contacts, increasingly distant.
In order to find wizards, whether luminous or dark, from abroad, whether they were European or African or even Asian. He needed to acquire all the knowledge possible, he needed wizards who knew branches of magic that he did not know, to try to free Harriet Potter Evans, from her arboreal prison.
But it was turning out to be fruitless work. None of the wizards, warlocks, sorcerers, or necromancers, that he had contacted, knew what to say to him to break Harriet's tree curse.
Dumbledore could no longer sleep, without being assailed by nightmares of all kinds.
Horrifying nightmares, where England was burned to ashes, and Voldemort crowned and relentlessly ruling an England where only the Pureblood Wizards remained.
A future where he would lack any political or ideological power, as he would be dead.
He went to Madame Pomfrey, to see if she could give him something. But she decided to lie, saying she couldn't sleep, and the innocent Mediwitch handed him a potion.
It was even worse.
Escaping the nightmare, it consumed quite a bit of magic from the old man that night, as sweat soaked his pillow, pajamas and blanket.
Even so, it was quite good that he woke up, because there was an owl next to his bed, he approached, while he was looking for some bronze Knuts, to pay the bird, for bringing him that letter, he paid and sighed, he lit a few candles, just with a wave of the hand.
April 15, 1985
Dear Prof. Dumbledore.
I need your help. It's about my elder daughter (Veronica), who has disappeared in the middle of the night.
Sincerely.: Arthur Weasley.
Dumbledore groaned.
First Harriet is transformed into a tree and cannot find a way to free her, and now, Veronica Weasley has disappeared.
She needed to free The-Girl-Who-Lived, from her prison. And also, he needed to find Arthur Weasley's daughter, for the two to become friends.
"Finding Veronica shouldn't be too difficult." He thought to himself, as he remembered the Obscurus, and remembered how the girl was stripped of her magic. Her original plan, had revolved around the girl arriving at Hogwarts, marveling at the Wizarding World, and being able to guide her, to complete the Prophecy, defeating Tom, she wanted Veronica to befriend Harriet, not only because the Weasleys were his great students and now followers within The Order of the Phoenix, but because, for him, they represented the goodness of the Wizarding World. That goodness and innocence of the Wizarding World, for which Harriet would have to fight and die, so that Voldemort could be totally defeated.
But ... now, that future was impossible.
He did not have Veronica, who would be the same age as Harriet and it was likely that James and Lily's daughter, wished she had a friend her age, who could teach her how the Wizarding World worked.
"But we don't have Harriet, either," his sinister consciousness said, from the deepest point of his head. Not only did she not have the Potter brat, she was no longer a Horcrux, she had become an Obscurus.
Surviving Obscurus = Loss of Magic.
Had she survived, the girl would have become a useless Squib.
Then, he remembered what happened in Gringotts, with the Potter economic heritage, which was completely merged, now not only did he not have the boy, nor did he have the Potter wealth, to support the Order of the Phoenix.
This was only getting worse.
He had to keep trying. Maybe...
Yes. Perhaps you could argue that Stella Black, being a Death Eater and imprisoned in Azkaban, lacked the right to manage the Black fortune.
No! He must withdraw that argument.
Such an argument could cause the money to flow to Narcissa Malfoy. For Bellatrix was also a malefactor, she was also in Azkaban; And Andromeda married a Muggle, so she wasn't worth the Black money.
The entire Black fortune could end up very far from his hand. A letter arrived at his office, snapping him out of his thoughts.
April 15, 1985
Dear Mr. Dumbledore.
Although, it has been shown, for my team and for me, that there is latent magic in the Walnut tree, which you have asked us to investigate, it is also clear to us that there is no type of consciousness, nor that it has been formed, from a human body, as you have assured us, it happened.
Even if it was the case of a magical loss of control, there would still have to be some trace of magic.
Sincerely .: Faris Coldfort.
The poor old man was left without knowing what to think.
He began to shake, turned and went to his library. He needed to calm down, and think with a cool head. He needed to find a spell that would serve him in this situation, and his personal bookshelf, both the one in his room and the one in the office, had certain very rare volumes.
It took him until it was three in the morning, to find a spell that could be useful, he reread the title several times, until he made sure he had learned the spell and the necessary wand movement. Only then did he remove the anti-Apparition room, to Disappear from his office, however, it took him a bit to get to Privet Drive.
The Towering Walnut Tree was still there. He sighed and pulled the legendary Elder Wand from his robe as he slowly began to wave his wand and recite the spell. Quickly, he changed the wand movement, casting another spell, and repeated the process, with another spell, and a third ... and another. - "Anima Revelio!" He concluded, after having to chain, an extensive series of spells, not only in Latin, but also in German, Hebrew and Persian (also called Farsi), more than six spells, each one having a reaction on the Elder Wand . For an instant, Dumbledore had a hunch that: If that had been his original wand, it might have been destroyed by all the accumulated spells, and then suddenly released, on the Walnut tree. He saw the tree being enveloped by a gray aura.
Gray aura turned to purple.
Dumbledore chained another spell, to those who were already acting on the tree.
Violet turned blue. Blue that became light blue.
He whispered a fifth spell, waving his wand, forming a letter Z, in the air.
Light blue that turned to violet. Violet turned red.
A sixth spell, said with difficulty, bit his lip, struggled, to maintain all the spells, while the magic itself, looked for some sign of life, inside the tree, and waved the wand, in a kind of N, and then nail.
Red turned pink. Pink turned white.
He turned the wand, and again chained another spell, now on his body, managing to calm the pain that threatened to reach him.
White turned to gray. Gray turned black.
He screamed the last spell, as he called out to Fawkes, who inflicted a wound on his left finger and blood flew towards the tree.
The black light stayed on the tree, it began to expand. Dumbledore whispered the last spell cast, like a Mantra.
The black light returned to Elder's wand, and Dumbledore flew off.
Fawkes came to his Familiar and sang, to heal the old man, who rose paper white in disbelief at the result of his spell, due to the knowledge transmitted by the spells, a knowledge that came to his mind (even if he had not expected, fly away).
They did not exist: no soul, no consciousness, no trace of ...
Of absolutely nothing.
As if she were just an inert tree, and not a girl transformed into a tree ... Something clicked in the old man's mind, who began to shed tears.
What if it was the corpse of a girl, what was transformed into a tree? After all: Someone threw an Avada Kedavra at her, and he was there, when they did!
But, if that ... if that was the case, what could that mean, as far as the prophecy, or the Horcruxes?
- / - / - / -
At the same time, deep in the so-called Forest of Death, at Camp Olympus, an exhausted Harriet Evans was awakening in the cabin in honor of her father. He sighed, as he tried to organize his thoughts, sat up, ran a hand over his eyes.
Since he arrived at the Camp (or perhaps thanks to the excellent care and medicines, which the children of Apollo had provided), he no longer needed glasses. He lit a candle by his bed, opened a drawer, and pulled out a sheet of paper.
Harriet's pov
Definitely, this Weasley girl and I, will start a new dispute between our parents (and I do not remember that Zeus and Athena, they got along, in any of the historical records, that we have).
Apparently this girl is somewhat jealous of me, and I think she wants to become as good as I am. Although I can say without problems, that we are even when doing the obstacle exercises, I am improving in my understanding of Latin and I can read some pages of (for example) Gesta Romanorum (Acts of the Romans): an extensive work of myths, fables and stories originally written in Latin, having among all these, the various myths about the Olympics and that was what I was most interested in reading.
Veronica and I are evenly matched in Fencing, but she is better at having a one-and-a-half sword (also called a bastard sword), while I am better at having twin swords, and they hold on With a single hand (or something like that, since my swords are not physically identical, but one is in the Greek style and the other Roman), my thing is two-handed fencing and agility, when moving around the battlefield.
- / - / - / -
One night, I dreamed that I was in front of a man in his thirties, with long blond hair and dark blue eyes, he had a padlocked beard, he was dressed in a purple robe, he indicated to him how to use his skills.
According to the man (unconsciously I knew it was father, Jupiter), I had control over snow, I could create it if I wanted to, and I also had Cryokinesis. I guess it's all a matter of training my latent skills, and yet to be discovered.
We were at one of the training grounds at Camp Olympus. I saw my father, perform a battle move. But as I imitated him, ice emerged from my right hand, while making another movement, snow emerged.
He could generate ice and snow, and control them at will.
Then, a woman appeared, being even taller than Jupiter, who took a few steps back, looking surprised, I did the same, but she managed to block the sunlight, preventing us from seeing her well, we could only glimpse her blue tunic and her Caucasian skin . The woman stroked my head, playfully ruffling me. I thought I heard "Never give up" from the woman, but the voice was like a whisper. The woman extended her hand and a miniature sphere of light (or perhaps a star, or even a sun) shone in her hand, until she closed it, and the light was slowly extinguished.
I heard them talk to me, I talked to both of them.
They felt close. Next to me
- / - / - / -
So, I woke up, because there was a knock on my door, apparently the entire Olympus Camp sensed a presence in my cabin, and they violently opened my door. Still recovering from the confusion of the dream and somewhat frightened, I threw a blast of snow, Leslie stepped aside to avoid it, next to Fame; Not so Kiria, Veronica, Gabriela and Coralia, the four of them ended up under a mountain of snow, making the other campers laugh.
"Wow, it's funny to see a daughter of the king of heaven, with Cryokinesis and not with Electrokinesis!" Fame said in surprise.
"I'm sorry," I said sadly.
"That was unexpected," Gabriela said, standing up, while Veronica was the only one who was glaring at me.
They all knelt before me, suddenly, I looked up, meeting the hologram of three suns. "What does it mean?"
"Apparently, Harriet dear, you are not only the daughter of Jupiter, you are also the daughter of the Titan Eos: Goddess of the Dawn, Titan of the dew, mother of the winds and the stars," Kiria said.
"Tomorrow you can train with us, your Photokinesis! "She said ... Santiago or Nathan? I was still VERY asleep, and somewhat confused, I just knew that they were both sons of Apollo, that's why they told me to train with them; and they were so similar that they all believed they were children of the same mother. Apparently my mother was not only a witch (Lily), she was also a Titan, but I still did not understand how it was possible.
I think I will suffer a headache (and one of the great ones)
I told everyone, my dream, and everyone was surprised. And no matter that it was night, we all left my cabin and they were advising me together, on how to summon my Olympian powers.
In two hours, I was able to master creating and controlling snow and ice.
And in an hour, I could do much more than just generate light that arose from the palm of my hand, (thanks to Santiago's advice - I am one hundred percent sure, that it was Santiago - I was able to generate spheres of light and send them to fly, but it was quite complicated, gathering the light in my hands, and then sending it to fly, did not seem to be my strong suit, as if ice and –even more– snow were).
Following Nathan and Leslie's cacophony of advice, I was able to learn the basics of archery, and Apollo's cabin captain (who turned out to be Leslie herself) handed me one of the best bows they had, apparently he didn't want to upset a Titan or the King of Olympus.
While this curious daughter of Athena (I mean Veronica), keeps trying to find where to win me, she does not seem to be like her brothers: she does not think first and stab later, but vice versa. And for this very reason, she used to challenge me.
At first, it made me angry, but then we took it as healthy competition, and a way to improve, thanks to the other.