AN: So as I suspected the story wasn't particularly popular. But ah well, I like the idea of playing around with the loser of a war, that and I had another interesting idea I wanted to explore. I have tried it before on my Seagate account, on another PJO/HP story called Carpe Diem, but due to a lack of planning, I kind of cocked that story up, and don't have the enthusiasm or drive to go back right now and retool it into something more readable. What I do have however is a random idea I want to explore, and a good foundation to play around with thanks to my previous attempts.
So I've decided to experiment with the idea again, because why not, I do this for fun and my own amusement. It's not a job, and I have no boss. That and I think it would be quite a cool idea to share, especially since it is a slightly different approach to other HP/PJO crossovers in the past.
So to set out the rough timeline of my idea, it would take place a few days post Last Olympian in the PJO timeline and would come in pre Order of the Phoenix.
There will be some obligatory clichés, in the sense that many others have used them before, that I will be using for plot purposes. That said I will be trying my own spin on them, or will be steering as far away from the more toxic elements of Harry Potter i.e. no soul bonding crap, no bashing, no harems, and no 12 years talking like 18th century wannabe politicians/ nobility, because ew screw that. Instead I'll just be having fun with things, and updating as and when I have the time and inclination, depending of course on where I am with my other stories.
If the story gets far enough, then I am hoping to veer back into the PJO world later on, and enter into the HoO timeline and events, with the MC causing more chaos than ever, and turning canon on its head, because why not, this is fanfiction and is supposed to be used to explore 'what if' situations.
So with that rambling out of the way, please do enjoy and leave a review/ comment with your thoughts, good or bad, I don't mind so long as they are constructive.
Also I am on a Discord with a load of other writers, so if you fancy a chat about any of my stories, or want to chat about your ideas, feel free to join up, the link is on my bio.
Note I've swapped chapter 2 and 1 around, so this is now chapter 1 not 2. Just to be extra confusing.
Disclaimer: I do not own PJO or Harry Potter.
( - )
Chapter 1
( - )
(Godric's Hollow, October 31st 1989)
Lord Voldemort was happy.
No, that would be understating just how he was currently feeling, he was absolutely delighted, almost euphoric.
Today was going to be the day that he finally put that accursed prophecy to rest.
Ever since his loyal servant, Severus, had brought him news of the prophecy, he had found himself obsessed. His every waking moment had been consumed by the possible existence of this child of the prophecy, one that would be a threat to him and his power.
Thankfully however, Peter Pettigrew, another of his loyal, if slightly cowardly, spies had revealed to him the location of the man's former friends, the Potters, the parents of this child
The Dark Lord smiled to himself at that thought, even as he neared the quaint cottage in the little village of Godric's Hollow.
This simple, rustic, little cottage by Peter's account, had been the Potter's sanctuary from him for the last year. A place for them to raise their children in safety and comfort, far out of reach of both himself and his followers.
Or at least it had been.
Thanks to Pettigrew however, the cottage and its grounds were no longer under that accursed Fidelius Spell, something he had no doubt that meddling fool Dumbledore was behind.
Gliding forward, his scarlet eyes gleaming with barely contained malice, Voldemort struggled to contain the triumphant smile that was even now trying to creep across his pale, snake-like face.
Tonight he would end the prophesied threat to his ascension into immortality, this very night he would butcher the child of the prophecy.
With a swish of his wand, the door to the cottage was blasted open and Voldemort smiled once more, even as he heard the panic in James Potter's voice as he shouted for his wife, Lily Potter, to flee with their two children.
"It's him! Lily! Take them and run! I'll hold him off!" James shouted in panic as he dived away from Voldemort, even as the Dark Lord casually entered his home. With the young Potter hastily grabbing his wand as he then turned to face the Dark Lord, his face taut with both fear and defiance.
Voldemort decided he was going to enjoy this, after all this night would be one that went down in the history books as the night of Lord Voldemort's greatest victory.
Deciding what he wanted to do, he cast an overpowered stunning spell at James Potter, the man after all was a pureblood, and yet despite his lineage and breeding he had sided with the filthy mudbloods and blood traitors. An example must be made and James Potter would be that example. And what an example he would make, it would be one that would ring through the centuries and warn all others off. It would be a cautionary tale to those who would dare stand against him.
James let out an almost feral growl as he ducked the Dark Lord's spell, the jet of red light soaring over his head and destroying a nearby vase, with a single flick of his wand James transfigured the door frame so that a half dozen metal spikes sprang out of the wooden frame, all of them aimed at impaling Voldemort.
Voldemort crushed the transfiguration based attack with ease as he sent out a spell that looked like a compressed wave of air, which, with a loud crunching sound hit the door frame and shattered it to pieces.
Lazily flicking his wand, the Dark Lord then transfigured the splintered remains of the door frame into dozens of black knives, which he then banished at James Potter.
Slashing out his own wand, and then rapidly weaving it through a number of intricate patterns, James cast his most powerful shield as he sought to defend himself, and he succeeded, if only partially, as the shimmering blue shield stopped the conjured knives.
Unfortunately, his shield did nothing to stop the overpowered banisher that followed after the initial flurry of black knives. With the banisher breaking through the remains of James's shield and striking him square in the chest, lifting him off the ground and slamming him into a nearby wall with the force of a freight train.
With a sickening crunch James Potter fell to the ground semiconscious, his brown eyes slightly glazed, and a small trickle of blood dribbling down from both his mouth, and from where the back of his head now rested against the cracked stone wall.
Seeing this, Voldemort sent another stunner at the man, this one hitting its mark and making James Potter go limp, now completely unconscious. Following this up, Voldemort conjured a set of glowing silver chains, which he then proceeded to use to bind James Potter, making sure he wouldn't escape- he wouldn't be able to make much of an example of the blood traitor to the rabble if he managed to escape after all.
With that done, Voldemort then swept past the broken and soon to be dead man, his cloak smearing blood across the polished wooden floor as it passed over James's limp body.
He didn't even bother to look down as he continued on, confident in the knowledge that the now constricted and unconscious man would not be getting back up.
( - )
"James!" Lily Potter yelled in anguish as she looked down the stairs and saw her husband fly across the room and crash into a nearby wall.
The moment she heard his body hit the floor with a sickening crunch, she knew he was dead.
Realising this, she began to back away from the top of the stairs as she saw the pale skinned Dark Lord sweep past her husband's broken body, and then start to ascend the staircase, a sneer on his snake-like face as he met her scared gaze.
Seeing his expression, her shock and fear quickly turned to rage as she saw the look of sick satisfaction on his twisted face. Letting out a snarl, she whipped out her wand and began bombarding the Dark Lord with a barrage of deadly spells, the multi-coloured jets of light ripping the staircase and the room below to pieces as the Dark Lord shielded himself from, and deflected, the unending barrage, all while still ascending the staircase, his crimson eyes gleaming with malice.
"Enough!" Voldemort yelled out as he jabbed his wand at the deadly redhead, sending out a powerful blasting curse as he did so.
Leaping back, Lily dodged out of the way of the attack allowing it to destroy the wall behind her.
She knew trying to stand and fight against him was futile. If not even Dumbledore could stop him, then what chance did she have?
Realising this, Lily turned on her heel and retreated to her childrens' room slamming the door behind her as she did so, before she whipped her wand around in a number of intricate patterns as she then began to cast a half-dozen hastily crafted defensive wards.
These were only temporary measures however, as her true defense, an intricate circle of runes she had inscribed into the floor around the cot her babies were currently hiding in, was further inside the room.
The runic circle was a part of an ancient protective ritual she had first while researching defensive charms and the like, something she had spent most of her time doing ever since she had first been told of the prophecy that was made about either one of her children, or about Frank and Alice Longbottom's son, Neville.
The runic circle she had created was based upon that very same ritual, an archaic Greek ritual she had found that protected that which the user held most dear.
According to her research it supposedly invoked divine protection for those inside the circle and judging from the latent power the runic circle emanated she knew this was no hoax, although the divine protection bit was probably added on as a hoaky exaggeration.
There was a cost to the ritual however, there always was one, but Lily was more than ready to pay any cost if it meant safeguarding her children, the two people she loved most in this world. Though to pay that cost, whatever it was, she would need to be in the runic circle as well.
The quick defensive wards she previously cast on the door ended up not doing much good, as less than half a minute after she had cast them the doorway was blown to pieces as Voldemort's overwhelming magical power, and prodigious skill, allowed him tear through the hastily constructed protections with ease.
Walking forward through the destroyed doorway, Voldemort soon came upon the figure of Lily Potter as she vainly tried to protect her children.
She had placed her body between him and the crib, her eyes narrowed as she quickly began to channel her magic into the runic circle which was hidden beneath the rug, and which encircled both herself and the crib.
Standing within the circle, Lily took a defensive position in front of her children, the one year old baby Iris, and her two year old son, Harry.
Turning to face the seemingly unstoppable force that was Lord Voldemort, Lily prepared to give her life to protect both of her children, her face filled with both fear and determination as she faced down the indomitable Dark Wizard.
"Lay down your wand and step away from the children, do that and I will allow you to live," Voldemort said coldly to the woman before him as he remembered the promise he had made to his servant Severus.
His loyal, young spy had pleaded with him to not kill the redhead, to kill her children and husband but not her. The love struck fool really thought she would be his after that. Voldemort knew differently however, the woman would just fade away, and eventually die from heartbreak, just like his own mother had. But still, he had given the man his word, and Severus Snape was a very loyal servant.
"Never! I won't let you hurt my children! Take me instead; please take me, not my children! Please, have mercy!" Lily screamed in defiance as she stood before her children, using her body as a shield, even as she desperately continued to try to and activate the defenses she had prepared earlier.
"Stand aside you foolish girl!" Voldemort snarled, his patience waning as he brandished his wand threateningly in the woman's direction. She was between him and the biggest threat to his life's work.
"No! Not my babies, please, no, take me! Kill me instead!" Lily begged as she felt the pale skinned, red eyed man in front of her drawing on his powerful magic, so much so that it almost felt like she was suffocating.
"Move!" Voldemort yelled as he slashed his wand at Lily, destroying a hastily crafted shield made out of what looked like shimmering air and sending her flying across the room to smash into a nearby wall head first.
Her body made an odd, wet crunching sound as it then collapsed to the floor, like a puppet which had just had its strings cut.
Seeing this, Voldemort sighed in irritation. He hadn't intended to kill the muggleborn bint, hurt her yes, but not kill. Still, it seemed as though his irritation at being denied his prize, and the annoyance caused by her shrill whining had made him put a bit too much force into that last spell.
Not that it really mattered. She was just a woman, a passing interest at best.
He was sure Severus would get over her sooner or later.
( - )
As all this was all unfolding the toddler, the young Harry Potter, had managed to make it shakily to his feet just in time to see the door to the room blasted open.
Walking through the doorway was a pale skinned bald man with snake-like features and red eyes. Harry felt a growing sense of fear in him as he saw the Dark Wizard, not that he recognised him as such, approach, a nasty sneer spreading across the pale skinned man's face as he sent Harry's mother flying into a wall on the other side of the room before he glared hatefully down at Harry and his sister.
Looking up into the man's hateful red eyes was almost too much for Harry's young mind to take, as he quickly looked from the unconscious form of his mother to this terrifying man.
Beside him Harry's little sister began to cry, something Harry soon copied as his juvenile mind was unable to cope with what was happening in front of him.
( - )
Voldemort winced slightly as he heard the shrill cry of the two Potter children. The sound was horrible, like nails being scraped along a chalkboard. The noise only succeeded in making him angrier as he stepped closer to the children, not noticing in his irritation, the subtle wave of magic that passed over him as he stepped over the now active runic circle that had been inscribed underneath the rug, and around the cot, by Lily Potter.
Carefully observing the two children, he tried to come to a conclusion on which one of them was his prophesied foe, they had after all both been born at the end of July, even if it had been a year apart, they were also both the children of those who had thrice defied him.
Flicking his malevolent, glowing red eyes from the older child to the younger child, Voldemort raised his wand, deciding he would just kill them both and have done with it. But first, first he would start with the older male one, the young Harry Potter, the child with the green eyes and messy black hair.
Voldemort's eyes narrowed as he carefully aimed his wand at the child's forehead, drawing on his irritation as he easily mustered up the hatred he would need to eradicate this child, and potential threat, from existence.
At her brother's side Iris's fitful wails became even louder and more grating. Harry however stopped crying, as he instead looked curiously up at Voldemort, his emerald green eyes meeting Voldemort's burning scarlet eyes in fearful interest.
"Don't worry child, your death shall be swift, and you and your mother will soon be joined in the afterlife by your sister… and eventually your father." Voldemort said softly, almost kindly, before he raised his wand, the tip glowing with vibrant, harsh green light as he prepared to cast the killing curse on the child.
"Avada Kedavra" Voldemort hissed, his crimson eyes flashing. A look of pure triumph crossing his face as he watched the deadly jet of green light erupt from the end of his yew wand, and strike the young Harry Potter.
His look of triumph however, bled away into one of shock as he felt the room suddenly filled with a powerful, potent magic, his eyes widening as he saw parts of the rug beneath him burn away to reveal the glowing red runes carved into the wooden floor below.
Looking up in shock, Voldemort's crimson eyes widened further as he saw the impossible, the sickly green jet of light had struck the boy, but instead of ripping his soul from his body like it ought to have done, it instead rebounded.
A shout of shock left Voldemort's mouth as he saw the jet of green light, his own Killing Curse, shooting back towards him.
The jet of light was moving so fast that he did not have the chance to even think of moving before it struck him square in the chest.
As it hit his body he could feel the spell trying to tear his soul from it. A pain unlike anything he had ever experienced before coursed through him as he tried to fight the effects of the spell.
He failed however and his body began to break apart as Voldemort, in the form of a cloud of black mist, exploded from his own body, screaming in agony all the while and not noticing as he fled from the room as another much smaller piece of black mist broke off from his body.
The rest of the room was not left unscathed though, because as the spell rebounded it caused an explosion of green light, dust and wooden beams as the force of the curse tore apart the nursery and almost collapsed the entire house.
( - )
For a few moments after the Dark Lord's final spell, there was silence in the Potter's home, as James, Lily and the young Iris all lay dead or unconscious with varying levels of injuries, and Harry, the only still awake member of the family just looked around him in shock as he uncomprehendingly took in all the destruction.
The silence soon ended though, as Harry then began to cry as a sudden pain began in his forehead, the pain coming from a small lightning bolt shaped scar as a fractured remnant of Voldemort's own tattered soul latched onto the nearest conscious person.
Harry's cries however, were soon cut off as the circle of runes that still surrounded the crib began to glow again, only this time they took on a golden glow, shining brightly as a lithe, humanoid figure slowly began to take form within the confines of the circle.
As the figure took form, the golden light surrounding it faded, to reveal a tall statuesque woman, who stood at nearly seven feet tall. As the inhumanely beautiful woman surveyed the wreckage around her, her features and body started to shift and change.
Her facial features remained beautiful and ageless, however her hair changed from honey blonde to raven black, even as her eyes turned from black to green. Her clothing meanwhile shifted from a misty, black, sleeveless gown to a set of white robes with ornate silver designs, like runes or alchemy symbols.
Letting out a soft sigh as she surveyed the carnage in front of her, the woman shifted her attention onto the deceased Lily Potter, the slightest of sad smiles twisting on her face as she looked at the woman who had used the ritual that would summon her. It was such a waste, for someone so talented and gifted to die so young.
Still, she thought as her gaze shifted down to the runic circle which contained her to that one spot, she had to admit, even if only to herself, that she was surprised. The ritual the mortal girl had used was an obscure and complex piece of magic, one she had not seen in centuries. In fact she was almost surprised the girl had even managed to work it, after all it was not often that a mortal was able to summon a god.
Though calling the young Lily Potter a mortal was not the full truth. She was a witch, a member of the magical society, an evolved branch of mundane mortals who had come about by sheer accident, due to the many gods and goddesses' own interactions with the mortal world.
That, and they also owed their existence to the thousands of demigods and legacies from dozens of different Pantheons that had bred, and interbred, into the burgeoning community over the millennia, mixing domains and bloodlines to the point at which they could no longer lay claim to be descended from any one single Pantheon.
Since then, the magical's had formed their own society alongside a number of other magical creatures and beings, all of whom had been created directly, or indirectly, by the interference of the divine on the mortal world, but who were, within themselves not monsters like those who dwell in Tartarus.
Thinking on it now, by her estimations the magical world consisted of only around one million wizards and witches worldwide.
Despite their low numbers however, they were still an old and proud race, and one which possessed the gift of magic. Which was something that made them especially interesting to her, and to the gods and goddesses like her.
Still, due to the nature of their creation, the magical world was seen by the many different pantheons as neutral ground.
No single Pantheon was allowed claim over them, as it was down to the actions of all Pantheons that the magicals came into existence to begin with, and no god was allowed to directly, or indirectly, interfere with them unless they were invited to, or summoned.
Those were the ancient laws that had been put in place by Chaos herself when the magical world had first started to develop. It was an immutable law, one that not even the arrogant gods like Zeus, Thor or Mars would defy.
Luckily however, there were loopholes to the ancient law. Loopholes which allows gods to get involved if they were summoned or invited, though oftentimes their power and reach were often reduced, or limited to just the area within the summoning circle that brought them.
Hearing a slight whimpering sound from behind her the goddess turned to look down at the only conscious human in the room, the young Harry Potter.
Looking down at the toddler, her eyes roving over his green eyes and messy dark hair fondly, she smiled.
"Well aren't you a little cutie." The beautiful goddess said in a melodic voice as she scooped up the sniveling child from his cot and held him carefully in her arms All around her she could feel the Mist shift as she used it to sooth the child's anguish. "And with such beautiful green eyes."
Harry continued to whimper in pain, not at all soothed by the woman's comforting words and actions.
Frowning slightly in mild confusion, she raised an eyebrow curiously. She had never before met a mortal who didn't fall instantly under her spell. Which in turn prompted her to look closely at the boy, her gaze quickly landing on the bloody cut he had on his forehead, a cut that was emanating dark magic.
Frowning as she saw this, the goddess traced her finger along the cut, causing it to glow golden as it sealed shut and disappeared, a few wisps of black mist pouring out of the wound as she then nonchalantly brushed them aside and dispersed them.
She wasn't exactly sure what the foul magic was, what with there being so little of it to go off, but she could pick up on its deathly nature at least, and the dark intent behind its creation. It felt almost necromantic adjacent. Which, in the end that was all she needed to know, in order to tease it out of the boy's scars and flick it away like the foul goop it was.
In response to her actions, a delighted gurgle left the boy's mouth as his pain suddenly vanished along with the wound.
"There we go. That's much better isn't it?" The goddess cooed as she began to cradle Harry to her, the now happy and gurgling boy in question having started trying to tug on the goddess's dark tresses as he looked up at her in delight.
Smiling slightly at this, her mind shifting back to her own demigod children for a moment, she then turned away from the child as he slowly began to fall asleep in her arms. With the goddess instead beginning to inspect the runic array that surrounded her and the crib.
The glow of the runes were growing fainter, showing that they were slowly losing power, soon enough the circle would completely shut down and she would no longer be able to directly interact with any of the magicals, or even remain within the boundaries of their territory.
Before she went however, she knew she would need to extract the sacrificial payment that summoning a god required.
Sometimes what was sacrificed was some great treasure of particular value to the summoner, other times it was a blood sacrifice as the summoner gave their own life up as a sacrifice to summon the god or goddess. It all really came down to what was agreed when the summoning was initiated.
When she had been summoned however, or rather when a request had been created to those with a connection to the Domain of Magic, no price had been offered. Instead the summoner had made ehr intent clear that she would pay any price, which of course meant that the price was up to her, the summoned god, to decide. Meaning that she could take anything within the circle as payment.
But as she looked around, saw no items of great value within the magical circle.
No, instead all she saw was a battered crib, burned rug, the dusty remains of the Dark Lord and the two children.
There was really not much for her to choose from to complete the summoning ritual, nor could she just choose nothing as that was not how the ancient laws worked. No, she had to choose something of equal value to the task she was requested to complete.
Looking down at the child in her arms, the capricious goddess made a decision on what she would take as tribute.
She was summoned to save a life, the only possible thing of equal value to that would be a life.
She would take the young Harry Potter, to be her son and Champion.
Now some may think this strange, but as a goddess she saw things differently to how mortals saw things, she could see the almost limitless potential this child possessed, and as a goddess, especially one of magic, it was enthralling.
"Well then Harry Potter, it appears that it is going to be your lucky day. After all, it is not often a person gets adopted by a goddess." The woman said softly as she cradled Harry in her arms, a look of fascination on her face as a sleepy Harry met her gaze.
"So I, Hecate, the Goddess of Mist, Magic, Witchcraft, Sorcery, Crossroads, Necromancy, Night and the Moon, make you my Son, and my Champion!" The now named Hecate said as she laid a single kiss on Harry's forehead, imbuing him with her divine magic as she transformed his body and made him into not only her demigod child, but also into her Champion.
It was fascinating in a way really, after all young Harry was now one of the very few beings in existence that had ever been both a demigod and a magical.
There had been others of course, children created by fertility rituals carried out by desperate wizards and witches, but there had not been many.
The few wizards that were aware of the divine knew better than to make such faustian bargains, and those who were not aware, well they were very unlikely to just stumble upon an ancient ritual that would allow them to summon a god.
Pushing these idle thoughts away, Hecate instead watched as Harry's body began to glow, his eyes becoming blocks of pure golden light as her blessing took its effect, cleansing his body and soul as he was instead infused with her divine radiance. She could actually feel his body being mutated and changed by her power, just as she could feel elements of his mortality being burned away and replaced with her power.
Throughout it all, Harry didn't let out a sound. Instead the soothing feeling of his mother's, or at least one of his two mothers, power flowing through him, lulled him to sleep as it quickly altered his body, magic and soul.
Looking from the peacefully sleeping child in her arms and instead to the broken body of Lily Potter, Hecate felt a small unfamiliar twinge of guilt, as a mother herself, she knew how much Lily Potter had loved both her children, she loved them so much that she tried to sacrifice her life to keep them safe. That kind of pure unadulterated love, it was a beautiful thing.
Unfortunately though she was not within the magical circle at the time of her death, and so Hecate could not take her soul as payment for the summoning and protection, even if she wanted to. No, Lily Potter's broken body was out of the circle, and so thus out of the reach of her influence.
"Do not worry Lily Potter, I will put a good word in with, old dark and gloomy, in the Underworld. You will see both of your children again in the next life, I promise you that. Just as you, like me, will always be his mother." Hecate said softly, more than aware that her time here was almost out; soon she would no longer be able to stay in this magical property.
Casting one last look around at the body of Lily Potter, and the unconscious but still healthy and living form of the young Iris Potter, Hecate decided to do one last thing before she was forced to leave.
Reaching out with her hand, she gently laid her hand on the fitfully sleeping Iris Potter's chest. "Be at peace child, and may your life be filled with joy and happiness. You will meet your older brother again before the end, I promise you that."
With that done, and with a flash of golden light, Hecate teleported herself out of the house and onto the roof of the house next door. Chaos's rules only applied to the magical humans, which of course meant she and the other gods could interfere and interact with the mundane ones as much as they wanted.
Watching on from the rooftop, hidden from view by mgic, Hecate watched as an aged, white bearded figure in garishly coloured robes, Albus Dumbledore, appeared just in front of the house with a crack, with the old man soon being followed by a dozen other armed wizards and witches. All of them hard faced as they quickly stormed the house.
She could read front their thoughts, that they were all hoping that they were still in time to save the Potters.
Running ahead of the crowd was the figure of Sirius Black, Harry's godfather, pushing the others out of his way as he rushed the house.
Turning her back on the Potter's house as she heard Sirius's loud strangled cry sounding out, Hecate looked at the sleeping child in her arms with a soft smile on her face.
"I wouldn't worry child, you will see them again before the end. But for now I will take you to Camp Half Blood where you will be safe and where you will become strong." Hecate muttered, a loving smile on her face as she looked down at the peaceful visage on his face, wishing as she did that she could raise him herself.
Unfortunately however, there were ancient laws in place that stopped a god from raising their mortal off-spring, which Harry had now become.
That didn't mean however she wouldn't play a part in his life, just like she did in all her demigod children's lives.
With that last thought, Hecate vanished from the rooftop in a flash of golden light.
( - )
(The Potter's Cottage)
Entering the Potter's partially destroyed cottage, Albus Dumbledore, followed closely by Sirius Black and a number of other members of the Order of Phoenix, cautiously advanced through the ruined doorway. The aged wizard's eyes widened as he saw the destruction around him, before his gaze fell on the unconscious and bleeding form of James Potter at the bottom of the stairs.
Before the old man could say a thing, Sirius barged passed him and ran to James, his best friend, his eyes initially wide as he quickly felt around for a pulse. Upon finding one the man turned to the other members of the Order and shouted "Help! He's still alive, but he's going to need some medical attention!"
Nodding in satisfaction as he heard that, Dumbledore quickly took charge. Looking around he quickly rattled out orders to the other members of the Order with him, ordering for James to be quickly taken to St. Mungos.
Turning back to the fallen James, Dumbledore's eyes widened as he saw Sirius barreling upstairs, calling out Lily, Harry and Iris's names as he rushed through the house, heading for the nursery.
Quickly following him, Dumbledore soon entered the shattered remains of the nursery. Almost at once he could feel the dark magic that had been at work here, the lingering remains of a killing curse and also of something else… though just what it was, he was not sure.
Continuing to look around his eyes widened as he saw the hole in the roof, before they moved down to where Sirius was cradling a broken, red haired, body to his chest, tears streaming down his face. Feeling his stomach clench uncomfortably at the sight, Dumbledore looked away and instead focused on the still and peacefully sleeping body of the Potter's baby, Iris.
Striding over to the crib, he immediately noticed that the Potter's other son, Harry, was missing. He also noticed the smoking pile of black robes and the circle of unintelligible runes that had been burned beyond recognition into the wooden floor, before being covered over by the equally burned carpet.
Dumbledore's brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of them. Before he could however, he was distracted by the sudden cry of Iris Potter as she suddenly awoke.
Turning away from the no longer readable runic circle, Dumbledore swept the crying infant up into his arms, his blue eyes quickly moving over the wailing child as he searched for any wounds or injuries. After a quick inspection, he saw that despite the dust on her onesie, and a little trail of blood on her forehead from a wound that was somehow no longer there, the child did not have a mark on her.
"Albus! Where's Harry?!" Sirius said loudly as he looked up from Lily's body, and instead took note of the fact that Dumbledore was only holding one child, and that the other was noticeably missing. "Where's he gone!? Can you see him?!"
"I… I'm sorry Sirius, I don't know…" Dumbledore replied honestly, looking around as he searched for any signs that the boy was still here, or that he had died. "But judging from the magic I can sense, it is possible that he is no more..."
Sirius's face crumpled at that, even as a loud strangled cry left his lips as he tearfully clutched Lily's dead body closer to him.
"Albus wha- what is this?" Another voice stammered out, distracting Dumbledore from the broken form of Sirius.
Turning around and seeing Angela Boot, a member of the Order of the Phoenix, pointing at the pile of ashes and the black cloak, Dumbledore let out a slight sigh, now that was something he could answer, after all he could still sense Tom Riddle's, or Voldemort as he became known, magic on the finely woven and heavily enchanted fabric.
"It seems the Dark Lord has been vanquished." Dumbledore said as he looked from the Dark Lord's remains, and to the still wailing form of Iris Potter in his arms. "By Iris Potter, the Girl Who Lived..."
( - )
(On the Outskirts of Camp Half Blood)
A few moments after leaving Britain, Hecate appeared with a flash of golden light on Long Island, New York. A frown quickly settling on her face as she felt the cold wind that blew about her.
Quickly striding forward, Hecate passed through a number of protective barriers that had been created around the area, most of which she had forged, to protect what lay within.
As she passed through the layers of magical protections she quickly felt a sudden warmth on her skin, as the autumn weather was banished away by one of the wards, and was instead replaced with warm summer weather.
Camp Half Blood, upon hearing it a person would think that it was some strangely named American Summer Camp, but it wasn't. Instead it was a fortified camp, created and protected by the Greek Gods, a camp to which they sent their demigod off-spring, either to protect them, or to train them for later life.
Normally the camp was home to a hundred or so demigods, children of the Olympians and the minor gods of the Greek Pantheon.
These demigods often ranged from the ages of five to eighteen, these were the ages when a demigod's power showed itself, creating a scent of sorts that drew monsters and other enemies of the Greek Pantheon to attack them. It was for this reason that many were sent to the camp.
At two years of age, Harry would undoubtedly be the youngest child in the camp, not that she was overly concerned. She currently had twelve demigod children in existence, not including Harry; six of those demigods were already at the camp. She knew her children would look out for Harry whilst he was here, just as she would ensure Harry knew that she would watch out for him too, as much as she was able, just like she did for all her children.
Continuing on through the camp, Hecate noted that the camp was sparsely populated at present; not that it was surprising considering it was autumn now.
Most demigod children lived with their mortal parents for most of the year, only spending their summers at Camp Half Blood, to get the training they would need to survive and thrive.
There were of course some demigods at the camp now though. After all, some of them had nowhere else to go, either because their mortal parent got scared and kicked them out, or because they had no other family left alive. Others however, were here year round because they were particularly strong, after all the stronger the demigod the stronger their scent, and thus the more likely they were to attract monsters.
Harry would soon become one of the year round campers, after all, with him being both her adopted son, a magical and her Champion, he would undoubtedly be very powerful.
That, and also because he could not stay with the Potter's, after all if he were to stay in a magical home she would not be able to watch over him and protect him where necessary. Plus, she also did not want to share her son, even with his father. But mainly... it was because of the first reason… probably….
"Lady Hecate?" A calm, aged voice spoke up in mild surprise, gaining the goddess's attention as she looked over to the source of the voice.
"Chiron" Hecate said pleasantly to her cousin, a smile on her face as she looked at the centaur in front of her. He was Chiron, the legendary and immortal trainer of Heroes, and also the director of Camp Half Blood.
"To what do we owe the honour of your presence?" Chiron continued, his eyes shifting from her and instead to the sleeping form of Harry in her arms.
"I am here to deliver my son to you" Hecate said as she handed the small boy over to Chiron, a smile spreading across her face as she saw the frown that crossed Harry's face when she relinquished him. "I want you to protect him, and train him. As he is not just my son, he is also my Champion."
"Your Champion?" Chiron said in surprise, his eyes widening as he looked down at the sleeping boy in his arms.
God's very rarely chose Champions, in fact the last time a God had chosen a Champion was during the Napoleonic War, when Athena had named Horatio Nelson as her Champion, much to Poseidon's chagrin.
Champions after all, were generally more powerful than the average demigod as their patron had imbued them with more divine power than normal and gifted them with more abilities than their average children would have. As such, it was very rare for it to happen. Which of course meant that for Hecate to name this boy her Champion, he was something special.
"Yes he is also a wizard, one of the British magical folk, so I will make sure to send some material over that he can use to learn his craft." Hecate added. A thoughtful look now on her face, as she planned out just what she would need to acquire if she wanted to make sure Harry reached his full potential.
Chiron's eyes widened even further as he heard that. "But how? What about the ancient laws?"
"I found a loophole" Hecate replied nonchalantly. She honestly wasn't bothered about the fact she circumvented one of the immutable ancient laws passed down by Chaos herself. Rules were just guidelines anway.
Chiron decided to just nod as he heard that. It had happened before, the god's finding loopholes in certain laws, and it would no doubt happen again.
Already however, he could foresee news of this child's existence pissing off a number of gods from multiple pantheons, but that was only due to the fact that they hadn't been able to do it themselves. That said, the magical folk, although interesting, were not the only interesting society around that the gods were not able to get their hooks into.
But still, by the sounds of it this boy would be a power house in the future;, a demigod, a Champion and a wizard, it was a potent combination. It was fortune though that he was not a child of the Big Three; Zeus, Hades and Poseidon, as otherwise the shit really would have hit the fan.
Not that his mother being a minor god made it any better. Not when this child of hers might one day wield the power of a child of the Big Three. His mere existence might one day upset the balance between the many minor gods of Olympus, and the twelve Olympians that ruled over them.
"I will take him to his brothers and sisters, Lady Hecate, and will make sure he gets all the training and education he will ever need." Chiron said with a nod, already deciding that he would help the boy however he could. Before he turned to leave however, a sudden thought crossed his mind. Looking back at the beautiful goddess, Chiron decided to ask a very important question. "What is the boy's name by the way, my lady?"
A slight frown spread across Hecate's face as she heard the question. It was a good one.
She wouldn't call him Potter, as that would just draw too much attention to him if he ever wanted to return to the Wizarding world. That, and as far as she was concerned he was no longer just Harry Potter, the son of James and Lily Potter, but also her son too.
She would tell her child the truth of what had happened and his origins, when she needed to, but she would not tell him straight away, nor put any pressure on him to reconcile with his other family. Not anytime soon, anyway.
However she couldn't just give him a common name either. He was a magical child, one of her children, and so he should have a quirky, and magical name, one that was fitting for who he was.
Harry was just a dull, common and generic name, just like Tom, Michael or Luke. It didn't have any weight, grandeur or mystery to it. Similarly Potter, although a reasonably old name in the magical community, was also lacklustre. Besides which her son would not be some common pot maker, and so no longer fit the origins of that name.
No, her son needed a name that would set him apart, a name that would identify him as something different from the norm.
A smile spread across Hecate's perfect face as she thought of a name for him. It was a name she would choose for him here and now, if in the future he wanted to change it again, or to revert to the name he had been born with, well then the choice would be his. For now though, she would be the one making the choice.
"His name for the moment is Alabaster, Alabaster Torrington, the Son and Champion of Hecate." She said, a glint of amusement in her green eyes as she looked back at Chiron.
As she proclaimed this Harry, now Alabaster's, body began to glow a faint gold, and the image of a pair of burning torches appeared over his head, showing to all those present, and any who were watching from Olympus, that she had claimed him as her son.
( - )
AN: Yep, so mindfuck, Alabaster is Harry, who'd have thought it? To be the fair the initially reasons behind my idea were the physical similarities lean, dark haired, green eyed, British teens, that messed around with magic. Then after that you throw in parental issues, a bad attitude/ a chip on their shoulder and you see some similarities.
From there I decided to dust off some old ideas and play around with them. Rituals are a thing, gods are selfish dicks, Lily is a loving mum that would go above and beyond, and yes I decided to stick with the fanon that she is a powerful muggleborn witch that had an interest in runes and potions etc. So it all kind of worked out in my head, hopefully it does the same on the page.
That and I also wanted to delve into demigod magic more, and have Harry, and yes at points he'll be going by Harry again, use mainly magic and such from the PJO side of things and kick arse, even as I develop and play around with the Harry Potter side of things, especially now I have set out its origins as being an amalgamation of multiple pantheons due to horny demigods/ legacies/ gods being horny. That and the occasional curse because the gods are dicks. Also speaking of the name, I decided that because it fit with my idea, and fanon does have a point, Harry, although a good, solid name, doesn't sound very magical or mysterious.
So that's the gist of where my head is at with this story at the moment. I am basically playing around with ideas, and experimenting with said ideas to see what works, and what doesn't work.
Thanks for reading.
Greed720.