A/N: Really happy to see folks are enjoying the story. Thank you for all the lovely reviews! Lets keep this ball rolling.

Chapter 14

It wasn't long after their arrival that Harry and Diana were intercepted by whoever was the senior unspeakable on duty. "You are not authorised to be down here without an escort or formal request from the department," he said without preamble. "Do you not have pressing investigations to pursue?"

In theory, when they were in their unspeakable robes, no-one was supposed to know who they were. Usually it worked, as while Harry knew a few of the witches and wizards who worked in the Department, he didn't know them well enough that he could identify them beneath their obfuscating enchantments. The problem was that that only worked so well for the more senior ranks.

"Yeah, yeah, Gareth, that's exactly why I'm here, actually," said Harry.

Gareth Greengrass, the uncle of Daphne, was not a difficult person to identify even beneath the charms, especially when he was clearly so invested in the search for Daphne. Croaker wouldn't have mentioned it, that much Harry was sure of.

The way Gareth's shoulders tensed told Harry he'd been right on the money with his identification. "What do you need, Head Auror?" he asked tightly.

"I don't know how much you know about the investigation," Harry said, though privately he suspected that Gareth knew more about the investigation than he should. For a department so steeped in secrecy, they had a remarkable ability to disseminate rumours. After-all, the only thing they had to keep confidential was their research. Airing other people's dirty laundry was apparently a-okay.

"I know a little," said Gareth impassively, confirming Harry's suspicions.

"In that case," Harry said, "we need to find locations for Diana's blood relatives." He saw no reason to give the man any more information than he already had. He was a smart man, Harry was sure he'd figure it out.

Despite the concealment charms, Harry could tell Gareth was bristling. The body language was hardly subtle. "How precisely would that knowledge aid your investigation?"

"Look, Gareth, you know how this is going to go," said Harry tiredly. "You hum and haw about how it's not proper procedure, and how I need to submit my request officially, then I tell you it's time critical, and to stop bloody getting in the way. It's my investigation, and I'm asking you to perform a blood magic scrying in order to locate a possible lead. Family or not, explaining the full circumstances to you will take time we do not have. Do you understand?"

"Do you think I have not already attempted to locate my niece?" said Gareth, sounding frustrated. At least Harry had managed to avoid the usually inevitable hand-wringing related to correct procedure. "Surely even you know that any blood search for Daphne will produce so many false-positive results as to be completely uninterpretable. I was nearly blinded when I attempted it!"

"Like I said, we're not looking for Daphne's relatives," said Harry as patiently as he could manage. "We're searching for Diana's."

"Then I fail to see how this will aid your investigation."

"Well it's good that you're not the one running the investigation, then, isn't it?" Harry shot back with a bit more bite than was strictly professional. "We have reason to believe that Diana has some blood relatives who may be involved, and her family relations are significantly more limited than Daphne's. It's worth a try at least. Unless you want to delay us further?"

There was a short pause as Gareth was seemingly caught unaware by the intensity of Harry's response. "I will perform the scrying," he said eventually, holding up his hands, "but it takes some time to prepare, and you will use that time to inform me of what has happened to Daphne."

"Look, fine," said Harry, choosing to overlook the fact that Gareth had just tried to issue him a command. He took a slow, calming breath. It was an endlessly frustrating characteristic of people of Gareth's age and social standing that they seemed to regard Harry similarly to how they might view a talking bear in the Wizengamot. A curiosity, and potentially dangerous in the wrong situation, but definitely out of his depth. Harry had given up trying to convince them otherwise. "I'll let you in on some of what we've learned, but can we please get started?"

There was another delay as Gareth, eyes hidden by charms, assessed Harry's trustworthiness and Harry considered the possible merits of attempting to make the Imperius Curse legal for aurors. Fortunately for both of them, the delay was only a short one. The man might be a bit of a stick-in-the-mud, but perhaps Harry's momentary outburst had been enough to convince him that Harry really did have Daphne's best interests at heart.

"Very well," said Gareth. He turned and swept briskly in the direction of the Hall of Doors.

He led them safely through the correct door in the Hall of Doors, and into a chamber that Harry had only been in once or twice before in all his time working with the Ministry. It was the Blood Magic Chamber and, more than any of the other rooms in the Department of Mysteries, it tended towards the macabre.

There were ranks upon ranks of shelves, each filled with thousands of small vials of blood. Most were the easy-to-recognise dark red and brown of ordinary blood, but here and there he could see other vials filled with blood that was green, blue, purple or even silvery white.

He didn't want to know what price had been paid for that particular vial.

Diana looked around with a look of mixed awe and horror. Harry could easily understand that feeling. Every one of the vials was carefully labelled and organised. It was at once mundane and grisly. Even the smell of the room hung in that balance: it was like a musty old library mixed with the lingering scent of a long-abandoned abattoir.

They made their way past the ranks of shelves until they came to the end of the room. There, built into the wall, was a small alcove which was almost anticlimactically barren. All it contained was a rickety old table, heavily worn and stained, no doubt by some of the blood they'd just walked by.

On the table was a small bowl, barely larger than a fist. It was made out of some kind of dull grey stone, and was covered in runes in more intricate arrangements than Harry would ever be able to recognise. Next to the bowl was a single yellowing candle, which had dribbled so much of its wax over the table that it was barely more than a nub.

Gareth sighed when he saw the candle, and muttered something about Gamp never cleaning up after himself. He turned to Harry and Diana. "Very well, what is it, exactly, that you are seeking?

"It should be simple enough," said Harry. "We are simply looking for all those who share a blood relationship with Diana."

Gareth frowned. "You do realise that if you do not narrow it down, you may end up with more results than you might hope?"

"That should not be a problem," said Diana as she shook her head. "My people have not closely associated with Man's World for many hundreds of years."

Harry added, "Besides, this particular person is, if we are correct, rather unusual."

"Unusual?" Gareth asked, eyebrows raised.

"Ares is my half-brother," said Diana simply.

"Ares," said Gareth blankly. "As in the Greek god of war?"

"Indeed."

"But that would make you the daughter of either Zeus or Hera," said Gareth, clearly not believing it.

"Zeus, yes," said Diana in the same kind of matter-of-fact tone of voice that Harry would use for discussing his own parents.

Harry got the feeling that there was a very long story behind that particular state of affairs. He turned to Gareth and, going for nonchalant, said: "So, simple enough?"

"Simple?" Gareth very nearly shouted. "Have you any idea how the power of Greek divinity interacts with the blood magic we are about to attempt?"

"Well, no…"

"Neither do I," said Gareth, deflating almost instantly. "Who knows what havoc such powers could wreak together?"

Diana didn't seem to share his concern. "You will find that the divinity in my blood is much diminished compared to what you fear."

Her attempts at calming Gareth down didn't achieve all that much. He gave her a flat look. "My dear, forgive me for saying this bluntly, but your knowledge in this field is eclipsed even by Mr. Potter's."

"Look, Gareth," said Harry, deciding that they'd argued long enough. "This is the only way we're tracking down your niece today, and if we don't do it today then things will go from bad to worse. So pull yourself together."

"Are you mad?" said Gareth, clearly still not understanding the stakes.

"Much as I hate to say it, this is not merely about Daphne," said Harry. He'd ignore that particular question as the answer may well have been 'yes', and that wouldn't help anyone. "She's caught up in something bad, yes, but it's not her that's the problem. I know how much you lot like to whisper and gossip so you probably know that we believe that she may have been possessed by the spirit of Herpo the Foul. It's worse than that, though, as he, through her, also appears to have complete control of the hero known as Superman who could, if the whim took him, break our entire planet in two.

"So I'd suggest you get on the same page," he finished.

There was a lengthy pause, but eventually Gareth gave way. Harry saw the slight drop in his shoulders, and knew he'd won. "Very well," said Gareth. "We will do this, but if anything goes wrong, I want my protestations to be known."

"Yes, yes," said Harry, waving off the last vestiges of Gareth's defiance. "Now, can we get started?"

"Very well," said Gareth, still obviously reluctant. He picked up a small, rune-enchanted knife, and tiny little bowl that was really barely more than a thimble. "Could you please cut your hand with this knife, and fill this receptacle?"

With little more than a confirming glance towards Harry, Diana took the knife and slashed it across the palm of her off-hand. She didn't so much as wince. She clenched her fist over the thimble until a few small drops of her blood had dripped into it. "Will that be satisfactory?"

"Indeed," said Gareth. He levitated the thimble over to the larger scrying bowl, and dropped half of it in. With another spell he spread the blood out over the thousands of engraved runes, until every one glistened a dull red.

As he worked, he asked Harry, "Now, will you tell me exactly what it is that's going on?"

A deal was a deal, and so Harry explained some of the stuff they'd found. He had plenty of time, as the work was no simple task. Harry couldn't follow most of what was going on, as really it was just a succession of obscure spells and wand motions. There was something in there about isolating the influence of the shared ancestor, and Harry also remembered that the actual relationship of the people to be scried, and the person providing the blood almost completely changed the way the spells were conducted.

After he finished describing the recent encounter at the museum, Gareth looked up from his work.

"So, if you do find their location, how exactly do you intend to restrain this Superman?" he asked, frowning. Like most wizards, Harry supposed the man had probably never really appreciated the potential problems posed by someone like Superman.

"This time, we will be able to work together," said Diana with the kind of rock-hard certainty that had even Harry believing her. "Superman is a dangerous foe, but I can keep him occupied for long enough to allow Harry to defeat Daphne."

"Once that's done, it only takes a single spell to put Superman on his arse," said Harry. It was obviously significantly more difficult than either of them were suggesting, but the broad plan wasn't so outlandish. It did neatly skip over the difficulty of actually hitting Superman with spells.

"Hmm." Gareth was, apparently, a little less than convinced. At that moment, however, the bowl lit up, and an image of millions of unreadable spidery lines was displayed upon it. There were thousands of little spots of light dotted all across the bowl. A few were brighter than the others, but it was still a mess. He looked over to Diana. "Do you have any other half-brothers?"

The look Diana gave him could best be described as incredulous. "You are asking me if Zeus, Zeus, had any other children?"

Harry might not be the most knowledgeable when it came to the Greek pantheon, but even he knew how stupid that particular question was.

"Ah, well, yes. Then this may prove more difficult than I had imagined," said Gareth, his embarrassment leaking even through the obfuscating charms. "Do you have any other relations that I might be able to use to narrow the connection down somewhat?"

"Ares may also be my grand-father," she admitted. "My mother never spoke of him in such terms, however."

"That'll do," said Gareth before he muttered some more spells over the bowl. Many of the lines and points of lights faded away, but those that remained still refused to come properly into focus.

"I'm not sure what the problem is," said Gareth, as he waved his wand over the bowl again, which caused it to shift and change once more, but to little benefit. He looked at Diana. "What other relations did Ares have? I believe I may have failed to account for some, and that is causing the spells to become confused."

"There are his godly children, who are well known," said Diana. "Eris, Eros, Harmonia, Phobos, and Deimos" —she counted them off on her fingers— "There is one other mortal child of which I know, called Lycus. But he is long dead."

Another spell from Gareth caused the shapes to shift and change once more and this time the lines became something much closer to recognisable. It was, very approximately, the outline of North America, superimposed over the top of the out-scaled outline of Great Britain.

Harry peered closer, and it looked as if there were a few bright spots visible, but it was impossible to tell if they were in either America or Britain.

"Are you sure he did not have any children in the Americas?" asked Gareth. Another swipe of his hand and a couple of the bright spots flickered. "The east coast, if I am not mistaken?"

Diana's eyes narrowed and she looked closer. "I know of none of godly descent in that part of the world," she admitted, and Harry noticed she looked troubled by the revelation. "Perhaps we would be best served limiting our search to the island of Great Britain?"

"Indeed," said Gareth, and he poked at the bowl with his wand a couple of times. The second time he did so, the outline of the American east coast faded to almost nothing, and the image became much clearer.

"Wales," said Harry as he looked at the location of the remaining bright spot.

"Hardly a surprise, in the circumstances," said Gareth. A final wave of his hand caused the image to expand a hundred times, until it was only a small portion near the centre of Wales that was shown over the bowl.

Harry and Diana both leaned in close.

"Snowdon?" they both said nearly simultaneously.

Harry looked up, and very nearly butted heads with Diana as she did the same. There was a brief moment of awkwardness as he jerked backwards, but he quickly pushed it away. He cleared his throat and said, "Well, I guess that's where we start looking."

Fortunately for Harry, it seemed Diana hadn't thought anything of it, though she did offer him a curious look, as if she was trying to work out what it was that had caused him to react as he had. He wasn't even sure himself. Perhaps he could blame the constant needling from his friends.

That was a problem for another time. Harry turned to look at Gareth. "In that case, I think we have what we need." With a flick of his wand he vanished the scrying concoction, and any of Diana's remaining blood. While he, in general at least, trusted the Ministry, there was a big gulf of distance between that and trusting everyone in the Ministry.

The political issues surrounding the place of heroes in the world were far too significant for him to simply leave something so potentially powerful lying around, even in the Department of Mysteries.

Gareth looked affronted by Harry's lack of trust. "Do you suspect me of some kind of foul play?" he asked.

"If I did, I wouldn't just have vanished the blood," Harry pointed out. "Let's just say that it is much easier to keep something from being stolen or misused if it doesn't even exist any more and leave it at that."

"This is the Department of Mysteries. It is the most secure—"

"Yes, yes, I know," said Harry, interrupting the man's blustering. "But you know that nothing is ever absolute. Let's just call it paranoia." Harry turned and looked at Diana. "We should get going. There's no telling how long we have." They might already be too late.

As they started walking towards the exit, this time apparently without the need for an unspeakable escort, Harry asked, "How's the hand, by the way?" He realised he hadn't actually offered to heal it up for her.

She held it out for him to see, and it was already well scabbed over. "It is healing well enough," she said dismissively. "I have had much worse than that in training."

"Here," said Harry, reaching out to take her warm hand for a moment. He trailed his wand over the cut and murmured the words for a minor healing charm. In seconds, it was as if it had never been cut, and the smooth unblemished skin of her hand was restored.

Diana held her hand up to look at it more closely, probably looking for any hint of scarring and found none. "Impressive," she said as they once more began walking. For a few paces there was a thoughtful silence from her, until: "There is much good that your people could do in Man's World."

That drew a smile from Harry. "I thought the same, when I found out I was a wizard." He remembered what Hagrid had said at the time, about how it only made sense to hide away, because if they didn't muggles would just want magic to solve all their problems.

At the time, he'd accepted that reasoning. Well, really, he just hadn't given it much thought. Later on, though, he'd started to wonder if that was such a bad thing? If a problem needed solved, then someone would need to solve it. If that person could use magic then surely it was only a good thing?

"The problem with it is that we're no better than anyone else," said Harry as they both stepped into the lift, and Harry requested the correct floor. "Good and bad, if witches and wizards join the world, you have to get both sides. Do you think it's worth it?"

"I do not think I know enough of your people, or your powers, to say," said Diana. Harry had to admit, it was a fair comment. He saw her glance across at him for a moment before she said: "If most of them are like you, however, then I think the world would come out ahead."

"Hah! I've been told I'm a bit of a freak, sadly," Harry said drily. He shot her a grin. "The attempt at flattery is appreciated though."

"It was not—"

She was interrupted by the doors opening to reveal Padma.

"Harry, Improper Use have reported a major spike of magic in Wales," she said urgently.

Harry glanced over at Diana, and they traded a knowing look. "Let me guess," he said. "Snowdon?"

"Yes, it— Wait, it worked?" said Padma, eyes flickering across to Diana. "You really are a descendent of the actual Greek gods?"

"Is the team ready to go?" Harry asked, hoping to speed things up. While the expression on Padma's face was no doubt amusing, time really was of the essence.

"It is," she said, nodding firmly. "Susan and Quigley were given the all-clear, and I've asked McDonald to stay past his shift too. Nestry's already gone home, and Williamson and Smith are at the Museum."

"Good enough. Can you organise the portkeys?" he asked before he strode into the middle of the Auror Office and clapped his hands to get everyone's attention. "Alright. Everyone listening?"

There was a smattering of 'Yeah's, and so he launched into his strategy.

"Now, at this point all of you have seen some of what Superman can do." He looked around the assembled group, Diana included, and saw them all nodding. "Hopefully that means I don't need to explain just how dangerous he is. At the same time, every indication is that he's a victim here too, so be very careful about potentially deadly curses. Remember, as far as magic is concerned, he's just a muggle, and there's no point even trying something physical on him."

He glanced over at Padma as a thought occurred to him. "Did we hear back on a transfiguring Kryptonite?"

It was obvious from her expression that it wasn't good news. "Without getting ahold of some, they can't even get started on the spell."

Resisting the urge to swear, Harry continued: "Spells with visible manifestations are almost all completely useless. Everything must be silent, and if you can manage it, a few bits of wandless magic wouldn't go amiss either.

"The most important thing you can do is protect yourself. Superman only needs to connect with one good hit and we're down a man."

Diana spoke up then: "I do not think Superman would kill you, even controlled as he is. When I fought him he was most certainly holding back."

"But that doesn't mean he doesn't hit like a lead bludger," Harry added. He dreaded to think what the fights might have been like if Superman weren't obviously still fighting the control somehow.

"What about Greengrass?" Susan asked.

"Greengrass needs to go down first," said Harry, nodding to Susan. "If you can take her down, we might just break the spell that's on Superman. As soon as that happens, whether she's still got fight in her or not, it'll be game over."

At that point Padma reappeared, three empty crisp-packets in hand. "We're good to go," she said as soon as she joined the group.

Soon they were paired up. Padma and McDonald, Susan and Quigley, and Harry and Diana. Harry felt some final words were needed. "Good luck," he said simply before he tapped the crisp packet with his wand, and he and Diana were whisked away into a tunnel of rushing colours.

They arrived to a scene of chaos. Almost before he had even managed to adjust to his surroundings, a huge boar, larger than a bull, flew past him. It was squealing loudly enough to wake the dead, and he jumped back instinctively. Before even attempting to catch his bearings, he cast a protection charm over both himself and Diana.

With that done, he finally had the spare seconds to work out what it was they'd just gotten themselves into the middle of.

Not far from where they'd appeared, the slopes of the mountain split open into a wide cave-mouth, filled with impenetrable darkness. In front of the cave Superman was locked in battle.

There were at least two-dozen gigantic boars, though that was being kind to them. They were uglier than any pig or boar Harry had ever known, with huge tusks as long as his forearm, and every one of them was covered in a mixture of scales, fur and dangerous-looking spikes.

In the middle of them all was Superman. He was a blur of motion as he sped between them. Each punch was punctuated by a reverberating crack as it made contact, but despite that the boars were almost completely unfazed.

The boar that had flown by was already getting back to its feet. It shook its head, but apart from being slightly dazed, there didn't seem to be any real damage from a punch that surely could have shattered stone.

The more immediate problem was that it was looking right at them both, its piggy little eyes gleaming with malice. It loosed a cry that bore very little resemblance indeed to any sound Harry had ever heard from an ordinary pig, and charged straight at them.

Instantly, Harry's wand was in motion. Before the creature had closed half the distance between them, it was met by a powerful freezing curse. The bright blue spell, which left frozen ice crystals hanging in the air as it passed, hit the creature directly in the face in a flash of light and a rush of cold air.

The boar didn't even seem to notice. Through the freezing cloud it hurtled, and it was only Diana's intervention that stopped it. She met it, hand to tusk, and the force of their collision threw out a blast of earth and pebbles. For a moment, Harry watched in amazement as the two battled for traction, which he fully expected the boar to win. Four legs were surely better than two, after-all. Then Diana twisted and the boar, suddenly unrestrained, lurched forward, losing its balance. Diana needed no more opportunity than that, and directed it face-first into the ground, which it hit with a crunching noise.

She clearly had that situation in hand, and so Harry returned his attention to the rest of the battle, as really there was no better word for it.

McDonald was already injured, skewered through the belly by another of the huge beasts before he could even get his bearings following the apparation. Before it could do any more damage he disappeared with a crack of inrushing air. It didn't take long for the boar to turn its attention towards the next nearest person to it: Padma.

She'd been knocked over by it when it had charged her and McDonald. It looked like they'd had even less time to react than Harry. She was quickly finding her feet, but it wouldn't be fast enough.

Harry sent a completely ineffective stunning charm at the boar threatening her. Ineffective, but it still fulfilled his purpose; it got the beast's attention.

It released a howl every bit as loud and terrible as the last, and lurched in his direction.

Ordinary spells were useless, that much was clear, and physical force was barely any better, but perhaps there was something else he could do. He brandished his wand and thick unbreakable chains burst from its tip, quickly tangling around the animal's legs and trotters. It fell to the ground with a much more piggy-sounding cry of surprise, and came to a rolling halt as it struggled against its restraints.

A glance over at Diana told Harry that she had also managed to restrain the boar she'd been fighting, but it meant she no longer had her lasso.

Superman, too, had found a way of dealing with the boars that Harry had never seen before. He simply threw them into the air, far enough that Harry couldn't even see where they'd ended up. He did know that the Hollow was in that direction, and wouldn't that just be his luck?

"Padma!" Harry called out as soon as he realised what that might mean. "Office. Now. DRCMC."

Her eyes widened when she understood what it was that was happening, and after the briefest of nods, she disappeared.

That left just Harry, Diana, Susan and Quigley to deal with the remaining boars, in addition to Superman and Daphne. The odds, which had originally been firmly in their favour, were looking worse by the second.

At that moment he realised that both Susan and Quigley were unaccounted for. Since his arrival, hectic as it had been, he hadn't seen Daphne either.

Finally, he located both Susan and Quigley. They'd managed to find a position a little way up the mountainside, and as such had apparently avoided any battle with the boars. As he looked on, though, he realised something was amiss. They were clearly trying to use their position to take down Superman, but their spells were fizzling out before they could even reach him.

He saw Susan try an animated transfiguration, a huge cat-like creature of rock and stone that bounded towards the distracted Superman. As soon as it got within a few feet of him, it fell into a heap of rubble, the spells completely unravelled.

There was still no sign of Daphne. He cursed. Clearly he was not the only one learning from their fights. Herpo the Foul might possibly be one of the most evil bastards to ever walk the earth, but no-one had ever said he was stupid. In fact, he was clearly smart enough to survive for hundreds of years, and to essentially rule over an entire civilisation.

Even as he realised the potential problems that might cause, the last of the boars was thrown clear over the horizon by Superman. Then, much to Harry's surprise, he did not move. Instead, he stood in the mouth of the cave and folded his arms across his chest.

Another spell fizzled out uselessly just feet from where he stood, and a smirk spread across his face.

The cave must have some kind of magical protection laid over it, but what kind of spell could deaden magic like that? The only time he'd ever seen anything like that was…

The quintapeds. Was it the same magic? Then he saw it, just behind Superman, huge and hairy: a quintaped arm, and it was a big one. Thick purple blood leaked slowly over the ground beneath it. That had to be what was causing the magic to fail like that. If they waited long enough the arm's ability would surely fade, but they simply didn't have time. Even a few minutes would be far too long, and he wouldn't be surprised if it took hours.

"Diana," he said urgently. "He's got a quintaped arm. As long as that's there, there's not much we can do to him. Can you try and get rid of it?"

Her expression was grim, as Harry would expect from anyone contemplating the idea of going up against Superman in a stand-up fight. "I do not know," she said, her voice serious. "By Hera, though, I will try."

"If you can get him away from it we might be able to help too," said Harry as he tried to think of something. There was also the lingering question of where Daphne had gone. Was she in the cave? Had something else happened to her? At that moment, he felt a rumbling vibration through his feet, seemingly coming from deep within the cave being protected by Superman. That probably answered his question. He really needed to get down there.

Diana pulled her sword from its scabbard, and stuck it straight into the ground. Then she threw away her shield. When she noticed Harry's surprised look she said, "They are of little use against him. Better to have the added speed and freedom." She then started walking up the incline to where Superman stood, ready and waiting.

Susan and Quigley, having realised that their spells were less than useless, climbed down from their vantage point, and joined Harry as he watched Diana step forward to meet Superman.

"What's she doing?" Susan asked incredulously. "Doesn't she know that there's nothing we can do to help her?"

"I wouldn't count her out quite yet," said Harry. He wasn't much of a betting man, but the simple fact of the matter was that Diana was a warrior, while Superman was not. Not really, at least. Controlled or not, he was not the one with the warriors training, or the centuries of experience. "Also, we're not just going to let her take him on alone."

"But we tried every kind of magic," said Susan. "Charms, curses, transfiguration, conjuration, nothing works."

"Then we don't hit him with magic," said Harry simply as he readied his wand.

Diana's back was to them, and so Harry hoped that his play wouldn't cause her any problems. He raised his wand high, and focused his mind.

Then Diana stopped, and called out to Superman. "Kal. You can stop this. No more bloodshed."

Superman didn't respond, but his stance shifted just slightly. Harry's arm dropped back to his side. Superman's posture was tense, but it wasn't the tension of battle-readiness. Instead it was the kind of tension Harry had seen and experienced plenty of times before.

It was the tension of someone fighting against the Imperius Curse. Was his proximity to the quintaped arm weakening whatever hold Herpo had over him?

"It is too late, Amazon," said Daphne as she emerged from the cave. Behind her, bobbing slightly in the air, was a huge cauldron, larger than a man. As she neared the quintaped leg, it dropped to the ground with a clang. "I think I am going to enjoy this new time. You Amazons and your troublesome gods were so very tiring to deal with. This Superman has none of your divine favour. Such power under the control of so weak a mind."

"He is not weak," said Diana before turning to Superman once more. "You must fight it, Kal. Think of all of your friends, all of your family. They need you to fight this Kal."

Even from as far away as he was, Harry could see the war being waged in his eyes. Superman's fists clenched, and he even started to turn, but then Daphne raised her hand, and he froze completely still.

"Perhaps not so weak as I thought," she admitted. "But it matters not. His soul is mine, and where the soul goes, his body will always follow."

"Why are you doing this?" Diana asked. She was slowly circling around them both, and Harry realised she was trying to get close enough to the quintaped arm to take it out of the equation.

Fortunately for them all, Daphne either did not notice, or did not care. "I do not propose to tell you," she said, laughing at the very idea of it, as if it was the most amusing thing she'd ever heard. Her laugh was not the lady-like titter that Daphne had, and which had always grated on Harry's nerves. Instead it was a high pitched cackle that would have been more at home coming from a pantomime villain.

"Herpo," Harry called, walking up to stand next to Diana. "There's no way you can come out of this on top, you know. The world is much bigger than it was in your day."

"Ahhha! So you have worked it out," Daphne crowed. "I am impressed, I must say. This stupid girl's memories were most flattering of you, did you know that? And I will admit, she is most pleasing. I can see why you desired her. I think I shall enjoy toying with her. Perhaps I will even find a way to permit you to watch."

Harry felt very real anger then. He'd never had feelings for Daphne, of course, but there was no way he'd let anyone become Herpo's plaything so long as he had a single breath in his body.

"I can feel your power," said Herpo, as Daphne's piercing eyes watched with amusement. "I had thought them to be the mere fantasies of a love-struck fool, but I must admit, I will enjoy seeing you attempt to contend with my newest pet."

For a moment, Harry thought she… he —he wasn't sure anymore— was talking about a basilisk, and he thanked his stars for the fact that he still wore glasses. It didn't take long though before he realised that basilisks took many years to hatch, and decades to reach maturity.

Unless Herpo was talking about some primordial basilisk from his original lifetime, it probably wasn't a basilisk. When he heard a regular, rhythmic rumble coming from the darkness of the cave, he knew.

It was the sound of footsteps. Definitely not a basilisk.

From out of the cave a gigantic figure emerged. First, the creature's skull loomed out of the darkness, a corroded brass crown fused to the bone by years of oxidation. Then the rest of the body followed, crouched, but still as tall as a building, and with bones thicker than tree-trunks.

Their assumption that Ysbaddaden was dead was clearly correct, but it didn't really improve the situation in any meaningful way.

Harry knew that giants had shrunk over the years, but he'd never really appreciated by just how much. He must have been well over fifty feet tall.

"I can see that you are like me," said Daphne as the giant emerged fully into the light. "You have brushed with death, but you lack the strength of will to command it. That is a weakness that will be your downfall."

"Well, shit."

A/N: Ysbaddaden is pronounced a little like 'usba-tha-den' but with a harder 'th' than usually used in english (and a u more like in 'us', rather than the one in 'use').

Sorry about the slight cliffy. Tune in next Friday to find out what happens!