The next day Harry Potter and Daphne Greengrass woke up inside the camp of the hunters of Artemis. Both in different locations Harry woke up inside Artemis' tent. While Daphne woke up in the tent next to hers.
"Mama," cried Harry.
"Little moon how are you feeling?" asked Artemis.
"My leg still hurts a little, I am sorry I should have listened to Jophiel when she told me to be careful of the ant nest," said the five-year-old.
"Little moon, you are not in trouble, now are you ready for a bit of breakfast before I have Zoe and Pheobe teach you how to handle weapons?" asked Artemis
Harry's stomach growled as Artemis finished talking. "Yes, Mama," he replied with a sheepish grin, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
Outside the tent, the camp was buzzing with activity. The hunters were preparing their gear, maintaining their weapons, and getting ready for the day's tasks. The smell of breakfast wafted through the camp, a mix of grilled meat, fresh fruits, and toasted bread.
Daphne, on the other hand, was still disoriented. She peeked out of her tent to find a girl, about seventeen with silver streaks in her hair, waiting for her.
"Hello, I am Kassandra, breakfast is ready if you want to eat, I recommend you do because you will be training with Harry," said Kassandra.
"Um okay," said the five-year-old girl, "Where is Harry?"
"Lady Artemis did tell me you both have a connection with each other, don't worry He is safe, milady would never dare harm her son," said Kassandra reassuringly.
Daphne's eyes widened. "Her... son?"
Kassandra smiled gently. "Yes, Harry is the son of Lady Artemis. It's a long story. But know that he is cherished and loved here."
"I thought gods weren't supposed to be close to their children that is what mummy told me when she took me to learn from her and Lady Artemis' angels?"
Kassandra leaned down to Daphne's level, her eyes softening with understanding. "It's true that most gods keep a certain distance from their mortal children. But Harry is an exception. Lady Artemis has always been different from the other gods. Her bond with Harry is special. Besides, every rule has its exception."
Daphne looked deep in thought, trying to process the new information. "So, Harry and I... are we going to stay here with Lady Artemis?"
"For now, yes," Kassandra replied. "Lady Artemis believes both of you are safer here, especially after the incident with the ants. But in the future, that might change. This is a place of learning and growth for both of you."
Daphne nodded slowly, taking in everything. "Okay. Can I see Harry?"
Kassandra smiled, extending her hand to the young girl. "Of course. Let's get you some breakfast first, and then you can join Harry for training."
After breakfast, Harry and Daphne were standing in a clearing in front of them were wooden training swords.
Zoe Nightshade, one of Artemis's most trusted lieutenants, and Phoebe, another skilled member of the Hunters, stepped forward. Zoe had piercing eyes that always seemed to be assessing everything around her, and Phoebe was younger with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"Alright, you two," Zoe began, her voice strict yet not unkind. "Training is not a game. It's crucial for survival, especially in the world we live in."
Phoebe, trying to lighten the mood, winked at the children, "But that doesn't mean we can't have a little fun while we're at it."
Harry and Daphne exchanged glances, both feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension.
"Now," Zoe said, pointing to the wooden swords on the ground, "Pick up a weapon each. Today, we start with the basics."
Daphne timidly approached and chose a wooden sword that felt right for her size. Harry, having a bit more confidence due to his connection with Artemis, swiftly picked up a sword and took his stance.
Phoebe demonstrated a basic stance, with her feet shoulder-width apart and the sword held in front of her. "Balance is key," she instructed, moving gracefully to show the correct positioning.
The two children tried to mimic her, occasionally losing balance or giggling when their swords crossed unintentionally.
Zoe stepped in, adjusting Harry's grip on the sword. "Tight, but not too tight. You need to be flexible."
"As you both learned yesterday both of you share a type of bond that will cause you both to feel each other pain, and emotions, and draw from each other's strength," said Phoebe "This can be used against you in a fight but at the same time be used to your advantage, so you both will learn from each other's weaknesses."
The children glanced at each other again, their connection more apparent now. While yesterday when they first met it felt like a silent conversation between the two, this bond had taken on new weight after yesterday's ant incident. When Harry had stumbled into the ant nest, Daphne had felt the sharp sting and panic as if it were her own. The reverse was true for Harry, feeling Daphne's distress when she had been separated from him.
Training continued with Zoe and Phoebe guiding the children through basic movements. They practiced lunges, blocks, and parries. It became clear that Harry and Daphne's bond was both a strength and a vulnerability. They could anticipate each other's movements seamlessly, moving in sync as if they were one. Yet, when one faltered or made a mistake, the other felt it too.
"Now I want you to spar against each other," said Zoe, her eyes watching them closely. "Remember what we've taught you, and most importantly, always be aware of each other."
Daphne looked hesitant, her grip tightening around her wooden sword. "I don't want to hurt Harry."
Harry mirrored her concern, "And I don't want to hurt Daphne."
Phoebe smiled, placing a reassuring hand on Daphne's shoulder. "That's the spirit. But remember, this is practice. The point is not to hurt each other but to learn and grow. Trust each other."
With a deep breath, the two children took their stances, facing each other. The clearing was filled with a heavy silence, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves and distant sounds of the hunters.
At Zoe's nod, the two children began to circle each other, swords held ready. Their eyes locked, gauging each other's movements and intentions. It was a dance of sorts, each step calculated, every swing measured.
Harry lunged first, aiming for Daphne's midsection. Daphne quickly parried his strike, countering with a swipe of her own. Harry dodged to the side, using the momentum to try a different angle.
The sparring continued, with both children showing impressive skill for their age. Their bond allowed them to predict and counteract each other's moves seamlessly. Each time Harry struck, Daphne was there to block or evade, and vice versa.
They moved fluidly, their swords clashing with a rhythmic cadence. The entire camp seemed to watch, impressed by their synchronicity.
After several minutes, Zoe raised her hand. "Enough," she declared, her voice filled with approval. "That was impressive. Both of you have a natural talent, but it's clear that your bond amplifies it. Daphne, I am going to give you a training axe, as you are using the sword like an axe, Harry you need to be less predictable."
Daphne and Harry, panting and slightly flushed from their exertion, nodded in acknowledgment. Daphne looked at her wooden sword, realizing Zoe was right; she had been swinging it more like an axe than a sword.
Phoebe went to a nearby equipment rack and returned with a wooden training axe, handing it to Daphne. "Try this," she suggested with a smile. "It might feel more natural to you."
Daphne gripped the handle of the axe, testing its weight and balance. She swung it a few times, and it indeed felt more comfortable in her hands. She looked up with a smile, her confidence boosted.
Harry, on the other hand, pondered on Zoe's words. Being the son of a goddess, he had always been more attuned to his surroundings and had an inherent sense of combat. But he also recognized that he had a lot to learn.
"Don't worry, Harry," Zoe said, seeing his contemplative expression. "Predictability is something we can work on. It's good to have a signature move, but you must always keep your opponent guessing."
Harry nodded. "Thank you, Zoe. I'll remember that."
"Now begin" yelled Zoe
With her new weapon in hand, Daphne felt a surge of confidence. Harry, now more focused, began circling her, readying his wooden sword. Their eyes met the unspoken bond between them as strong as ever.
Daphne swung her axe first, a powerful arc aimed towards Harry's side. He stepped back, avoiding the strike, but Daphne was quick to follow with another swing. Harry parried with his sword, redirecting the force of her blow.
The sounds of wooden weapons clashing echoed through the clearing, as Harry and Daphne's dance of combat continued. Harry, taking Zoe's advice to heart, started trying new moves, making it harder for Daphne to predict his actions. He feinted to the left, only to strike from the right, keeping Daphne on her toes.
Daphne, meanwhile, was adjusting to her axe. Its weight and how it should be wielded were different from the sword, but she was quick to adapt. She used the broader side to block Harry's strikes and the sharp edge to counterattack.
The two of them seemed evenly matched, with neither gaining a clear advantage over the other. But as time passed, it was evident that their bond played a crucial role in their sparring. They seemed to anticipate each other's moves, often leading to a deadlock where their weapons would clash and neither could break free.
"Stop" yelled Zoe, causing the two five-year-olds to look at her. "Sometimes it's better to dodge than block, alternate between the two to make your fighting style unpredictable.
Harry and Daphne, slightly out of breath but eager for more guidance, listened intently.
"Dodging can use less energy than constantly blocking, and it can put you in a better position to counterattack," Phoebe chimed in, demonstrating a swift side-step followed by a quick strike. "See? Dodge, then strike."
Zoe nodded in agreement. "When you dodge, you can also use the momentum to lead into another move, making your transitions smoother. The key is to be fluid and unpredictable."
Daphne looked thoughtful. "So, it's not just about attacking and defending, but also about how we move between the two?"
"Exactly," Zoe said. "Combat is like a dance. It's about rhythm, timing, and knowing when to lead and when to follow. Your bond gives you an advantage in reading each other, but remember, not every opponent will be as familiar. You need to be adaptable."
Harry tightened his grip on his sword, determination shining in his eyes. "So, we keep them guessing, always be a step ahead."
Zoe smiled, clearly pleased with their progress. "Yes. But also remember that every opponent is different. Some may be faster, some stronger, and some might have abilities you've never encountered before. Always be observant and adapt."
The two children nodded, taking in the lessons they'd learned. The sun began its descent, casting a golden hue over the clearing.
"One more round," Phoebe suggested with a twinkle in her eye. "Then we move on to Archery"
"Ready Begin" yelled Zoe
The two children squared off again, this time with a renewed focus. Both were eager to implement what they had learned.
Harry began with a feint to the left, but instead of striking from the right as he had done before, he swiftly lunged forward. Daphne, using her new awareness of dodging, sidestepped his lunge, and swiftly countered with a swing of her axe. The air was filled with the sound of wood striking wood as their weapons clashed.
Harry, putting into practice the idea of being unpredictable, alternated between dodges and blocks, keeping Daphne on her toes. At one point, he dodged her swing and, using his momentum, spun and tried to strike from behind. Daphne, sensing his move, quickly pivoted and blocked his attack with her axe.
The two moved in a fluid dance, each step and strike a testament to their bond and the lessons they were absorbing. They were a whirlwind of motion, their connection evident in their synchronized movements.
After several minutes of intense sparring, Zoe raised her hand. "Enough," she declared, impressed. "Both of you have shown immense progress in just one session."
Phoebe clapped her hands together. "That was fantastic! You two have a natural talent, and with the right training, you'll be formidable."
Harry and Daphne, both panting and sweaty, smiled at each other. The bond they shared had grown stronger, and their newfound skills were proof of that.
"We'll take a lunch break, and then we'll move on to archery," Zoe said, pointing towards a makeshift range set up with targets at varying distances.
Harry's eyes lit up with excitement. He had always been fascinated with bows and arrows, and the idea of learning archery thrilled him. Daphne, while unfamiliar with the weapon, was equally eager to learn.
The five-year-olds sat down and ate lunch, after lunch they walked over to the Archery range. Harry looked at the bow and arrows with excitement while Daphne was nervous.
"Harry, as a child of our lady this should be natural to you" began Zoe "Daphne as a child of Lady Demeter, this may not be natural to you, but with hard work, you can succeed."
Daphne gulped, her fingers trembling slightly as she reached out to touch the smooth wooden curve of a bow. "I'll do my best," she whispered, a mixture of determination and anxiety evident in her voice.
Harry, however, seemed completely in his element. The bow felt right in his hands, a perfect extension of his arm. He took a deep breath, drawing the string back with a natural ease that made Zoe nod in approval.
"Always remember," Phoebe began, her voice gentle, "Archery isn't just about strength. It's about focus, patience, and timing."
Zoe stepped forward, pointing to a target in the distance. "Start with the basics. Breathe in, breathe out. Feel the rhythm of your breath, and release the arrow when it feels right."
Harry closed one eye, focusing intently on the target. With a calm exhale, he released the arrow, watching as it whizzed through the air and landed with a thud, not exactly at the center but close enough to earn him a nod of approval.
Daphne's first attempt was less graceful. The bowstring snapped against her arm, causing her to yelp in pain. Harry, feeling a twinge of pain through their bond, immediately moved to her side.
"It's alright, Daphne. It takes time," he comforted her, rubbing the red mark on her arm.
Daphne took a deep breath, trying to shake off the pain and disappointment. "I can do this," she murmured to herself, drawing another arrow.
Zoe adjusted Daphne's stance, helping her position the bow correctly. "Remember, it's not about strength. Let the bow do the work. Just guide the arrow."
With Zoe's guidance and a bit more focus, Daphne's next shot was much better. While it didn't hit the bullseye, it was on the target, and that was a start.
The afternoon was spent practicing, with both children showing improvement with each shot. Harry's arrows were consistently close to the bullseye, while Daphne's accuracy improved steadily. The bond they shared seemed to aid their learning, allowing them to communicate silently, adjusting their stance or technique based on the other's feedback.
As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the archery range, Zoe and Phoebe gathered the children for a final debrief.
"Today was an excellent start," Zoe began, her tone firm but approving. "But remember, every day is a learning opportunity. We must always strive to improve."
Phoebe smiled warmly at the children. "You both have done incredibly well today. We're proud of you. Rest up, for tomorrow brings new challenges."
The air was heavy in the Surrey Police Station, and as Vernon Dursley was led to an interrogation room, his face was pinched with worry. Inspector William Smith took up position in front of him, adjusting the handcuffs that secured Vernon to the chair. He pushed his glasses up with a single finger and cleared his throat.
"Mr. Vernon Dursley," he began. "I am Inspector William Smith of the Surrey Police, and I'm here to ask you a few questions about the charges brought against you."
Vernon's eyes widened as he sputtered out a response. "What am I being charged with?"
"You are here today on charges of abuse (child, physical, mental, emotional and psychological), false imprisonment, child negligence, starvation, child slavery, cruel and unusual punishments, torture, child endangerment, attempted second-hand child murder, fraud, tax evasion, bribery, embezzlement and resisting arrest." He paused and adjusted his wire-framed glasses. "Victim being Harry James Potter."
Inspector Smith carefully placed two identical manila folders on the table between them. One of the labels read Potter, Harry J., Age 5 DOB 31/07/1980, while the other said Dursley, Vernon M., Age 29 DOB 29/02/1956. He cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses before continuing. "I apologize since it has been a week since your arrest and we are only interrogating you now but MI-5 has been on my back since Harry is the son of two of their deceased Agents, add to the fact that the boy is a Greek citizen as his mother was born in Greece, this case has been an international nightmare."
"Let me start with this you earn an hourly wage of 7.90 pounds that is well documented on your taxes, but you were receiving 1000 pounds monthly from the young Potters inheritance. Along with 350 pounds per month from the Department of Child Welfare, both of which were not documented on your taxes, you also were receiving 100 pounds per month in food assistance, care to explain that?"
Vernon's face turned several shades of red, the veins in his temple throbbing angrily. He was cornered, and he knew it. Trying to regain some semblance of composure, he cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
"I- I don't know what you're talking about," he stammered. "I have always provided for Harry, just like any good uncle should."
Inspector Smith raised an eyebrow, his face betraying no emotion. He tapped on the folder labelled Dursley, Vernon M. "These documents say otherwise, Mr. Dursley. We've reviewed your bank statements. The funds from young Mr. Potter's inheritance and the Department of Child Welfare have been deposited into your account for years. Not only did you not report this income on your taxes, but it also seems like none of it was spent on Harry. We've had reports from neighbours and teachers about the boy being malnourished and dressed in rags. How do you explain that discrepancy?"
Vernon gulped, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He looked around the room, perhaps hoping for an escape. "The money... it was meant for his upkeep," he muttered, looking down. "And I used it for household expenses. He's always been a difficult child; he eats a lot, and he ruins his clothes. That's why he looks the way he does."
Inspector Smith leaned in closer, eyes cold and unyielding. "You expect me to believe that a five-year-old boy can eat enough to consume 1,450 pounds a month? I know it's 1985 and food prices as gone up since 1980 but with 1450 pounds if you combine all three sources of income, you could easily feed a family of five with that amount and still have savings. Furthermore, how could a five-year-old cause such damage to justify dressing him in his cousin's oversized hand-me-downs? The amount of money you've been receiving is substantial, yet Harry has consistently been reported as looking malnourished and neglected."
Vernon squirmed, avoiding the inspector's piercing gaze. "He's just a... difficult child. Always getting into trouble and making things up."
Smith scoffed. "Do you know why you are being charged with Child Slavery?"
Vernon's eyes darted around, looking even more panicked than before. "I've never tried to hurt the boy!"
"Your neighbours have reported seeing Harry being forced to do strenuous chores and labour, even at his young age. That constitutes as child slavery," Inspector Smith said, flipping open the folder and revealing photographs of a young Harry with a power washer in hand power washing the driveway. Another picture saw the boy on top of a ladder painting the house. A third picture had him with a drill installing a gutter.
Vernon's face paled further if that was even possible. He licked his dry lips, trying to find the words to defend himself, but nothing came out.
Inspector Smith continued, "In this folder, Mr. Dursley, I have dozens of pictures, testimonies, and other pieces of evidence showcasing how Harry was made to work. No child should be subjected to that level of labour, especially one who's just five years old."
Taking a deep breath, the inspector continued, "There's also the issue of false imprisonment. We've received reports from multiple sources stating that you kept Harry locked in a cupboard under the stairs. Care to explain that?"
Vernon's eyes darted from side to side, like a trapped animal seeking an escape route. "It was just... for discipline. He needed to learn to behave."
Inspector Smith's voice turned icy. "Locking a child in a confined space is not discipline, Mr. Dursley, it's abuse. Our officers found that cupboard. It's hardly fit for storage, let alone a young boy."
Vernon's breathing became more ragged. "I didn't think it was that bad. We gave him a place to sleep, didn't we?"
Smith shook his head in disgust. "And then there's the issue of the attempted second-hand child murder charge. Witnesses reported an incident where you left Harry alone in a car during summer with the windows rolled up."
Vernon looked horrified. "That was an accident! I forgot he was in there!"
The inspector sighed heavily. "Mr. Dursley, the evidence against you is overwhelming. Your attempts to explain away your actions are pitiful at best. Your treatment of Harry Potter is not only inexcusable but also criminal."
Vernon seemed to shrink in his chair, realizing the gravity of his situation.
Inspector Smith leaned back, eyes never leaving Vernon's defeated face. "MI-5's involvement means this case will receive even more scrutiny. Hell, even the Greeks are looking at charges against you. You not only mistreated a child under your care, but you have also managed to anger two governments, both of which have a vested interest in the well-being of Harry Potter. The international media has caught wind of this, and it's making headlines."
Vernon's voice trembled as he spoke. "I never meant for any of this to happen. I just wanted to keep the boy in line, keep him from turning out like his parents."
Smith's eyes narrowed. "From the MI-5 records we've gathered, his parents were decorated agents, recognized for their bravery and service. They died protecting their son and their country. They stopped a terrorist organization called the Death Eaters you are old enough to remember their reign of terror. and they will be earning the George Cross for their bravery the government is just waiting for Harry to be old enough to accept it. those sound like perfect role models for anyone."
Vernon's face went ashen. He had known about the Potters and their line of work but had never taken it seriously, dismissing it as fanciful tales from the world of spies and agents. Now, hearing it from an official source, the weight of his misjudgments and prejudices became painfully evident.
"I... I didn't know," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.
Inspector Smith looked unimpressed. "Ignorance is no excuse for the kind of treatment you meted out to that boy. And it certainly doesn't justify the multitude of crimes you've committed. let me also remind you that the boy's father James Potter was the Marquess of Anglesey, and his grandmother was the sister of the current Duke of Inverness, his paternal aunt is the wife of the deceased Earl of Glamorgan."
Vernon's eyes widened in shock. He had always dismissed the Potters as eccentric, irrelevant, and below his social class. But now, with the revelation of Harry's heritage and connections, his preconceived notions were shattered. He had severely underestimated the Potter family and, by extension, Harry.
"Royalty? Are you saying that Harry... is connected to the nobility?" Vernon stuttered, his mind racing to process the new information.
Inspector Smith nodded a trace of satisfaction in his eyes. "Yes, Mr. Dursley. You've been mistreating and abusing a boy who not only has ties to MI-5 and two national governments but is also connected to the British nobility. It's no wonder this case has garnered such attention."
Vernon's heart sank. He knew he was in deep trouble. The charges against him were severe enough, but with Harry's background and the powerful connections that came with it, Vernon's chances of escaping the law's grip were rapidly diminishing.
Smith continued, "The Potters, despite their titles and connections, were humble people who chose to serve their country. If you don't believe let's look at the Potters since 1900, Lily Grace Potter nee Fairchild was a decorated MI-5 agent. James Charlus Potter, another decorated MI-5 Agent. Amelia Dorea Bones nee Potter currently leads a special division of MI-5 the first female and the youngest person to ever do so. Charlus Henry Potter was the second most decorated soldier of WW2 he fought in Belgium, Dunkirk, North Africa, Greece, Sicily, Normandy, and the Netherlands, even some members of this department knew him. Dorea Violetta Potter nee Black was a decorated medic from WW2 and a gifted doctor after the war. Henry William Potter was a hero in the Battle of Somme. need me to continue?"
Vernon gulped, realizing he was not just dealing with a simple case of child mistreatment but had inadvertently entangled himself in a situation that spanned national and international politics, intelligence agencies, and aristocratic lineages. "No, that's enough," he whispered, overwhelmed by the scale of his blunder.
Smith leaned forward, locking eyes with Vernon. "Every person, regardless of their heritage or lineage, deserves respect and proper treatment. But you, Mr. Dursley, have managed to offend not just the individual rights of Harry Potter but also the pride and honour of institutions, countries, and the very essence of the British nobility."
Vernon's voice shook as he tried to find some way to defend himself, "I... I had no idea. I was just trying to protect my family from... from that world. From the dangers that came with it."
The inspector's face softened slightly. "Protecting one's family is a noble intention, Mr. Dursley. But mistreating a child and committing crimes in the name of protection is never justified. Especially when you seemed to be benefiting financially from it."
Vernon looked down, tears forming in his eyes. The weight of his actions and the consequences that were likely to follow bore down on him heavily.
Smith sighed, "Mr. Dursley, in all my years of service, I've seen many things. People make wrong choices out of fear, ignorance, or prejudice. But it's our actions that define us. And from what I've gathered, your actions have been far from commendable."
There was a heavy silence in the room. The hum of the overhead lights and the distant murmur of the station outside filled the air.
After what felt like an eternity, Inspector Smith finally spoke, "Your case will be presented in court soon. I suggest you find a good lawyer. Considering the severity of your crimes and the entities involved, you'll need all the help you can get."
Vernon nodded weakly, "I understand."
Smith stood up, preparing to leave. "For Harry's sake, I hope he finds the care and love he deserves after all this. Every child deserves a chance at a happy life, no matter their background."
Petunia Dursley jerked against the restraints, her gaze darting around the interrogation room. Inspector Smith stepped into the chamber, placing two thick manila folders on the table and looking at Petunia with disdain. The folder labelled Potter, Harry J., age 5. DOB 31/07/1985, lay open for all to see, accompanied by a detailed report of Petunia's alleged abuse and neglect.
"Mrs. Dursley do you why you are here today," said Inspector Smith in a cold voice.
"You are being charged with Abuse (child, physical, mental, emotional and psychological), False imprisonment, Child negligence, Starvation, Child Slavery, Cruel and unusual punishments, Torture, Child endangerment, and Attempted second-hand child murder, fraud, tax evasion, bribery, embezzlement" said Smith slowly as he ticked off the charges on his fingers "Victim being your Nephew Harry James Potter." Smith looked closely at Petunia, "Your husband has been less than cooperative if you cooperate, I will be lenient on you."
"I apologize since it has been a week since your arrest and we are only interrogating you now, but MI-5 has been on my back since Harry is the son of two of their deceased Agents, add to the fact that the boy is a Greek citizen as his mother was born in Greece, this case has been an international nightmare, and that your, not a British Citizen but a Greek citizen. Your case has been even harder than your husband's."
"It's the freak's fault," spat Petunia in reply.
Inspector Smith's face hardened. "You dare to blame a child for your actions? A 5-year-old, Mrs. Dursley?"
Petunia's face contorted with anger. "That boy brought nothing but trouble since he landed on our doorstep! His kind... they're dangerous!"
Smith leaned in, his voice icy. "Let's get something straight, Mrs. Dursley. Regardless of any prejudices or misconceptions you hold against the Potter family or their... associations, it is no excuse for child abuse. You are facing a myriad of serious charges, and I suggest you take them seriously."
Petunia looked defiant but fearful. "I did what I had to. I tried to stamp the... oddness out of him. To make him normal. He would have thanked me one day."
"Stamp the oddness out? By starving him? Locking him in a cupboard under the stairs? Allowing your son to bully him? Letting him wear rags?" Smith's voice was dripping with disgust. "Mrs. Dursley, there is no world where such treatment can be justified."
Petunia's eyes darted to the folder, to the detailed evidence of her wrongdoings. "He's not like us. He's one of them."
Smith took a deep breath, trying to keep his temper in check. "Your prejudices have cost you greatly. This isn't just about Harry Potter anymore. This is about a series of crimes that you've committed over the years. We have evidence of embezzlement, tax evasion, and fraud. Your life as you know it is over."
Petunia's bravado faded, replaced by a hint of desperation. "You don't understand! We were trying to protect Dudley from the freakishness! From the world, Harry came from! From what killed his parents!"
Smith shook his head. "Whatever your reasons, nothing justifies the harm you've caused that child. And if your husband won't cooperate, then he'll face the full brunt of the law as well."
Tears welled up in Petunia's eyes, but whether from genuine remorse or fear of her predicament, Smith couldn't tell.
"I suggest you think long and hard about your next words, Mrs. Dursley," he said, his voice softened slightly. "Because they might just determine the rest of your life."
Petunia swallowed hard, her face pale. Smith continued, "You've taken advantage of your position as Harry's guardian, Mrs. Dursley. The law does not look kindly on those who harm innocent children, especially when their intentions are as sinister as yours seem to be."
He leaned forward, tapping the folder. "And remember, the world you tried to shield Dudley from is now the world that will come to Harry's defence. Your actions will be judged not just by the law but by society."
Petunia, looking completely defeated, whispered, "What happens now?"
Smith replied, "Well, your case is complicated because you are a Greek citizen and not a British Citizen, due to the boy's lineage there have been calls from various departments including the House of Lords and Buckingham Palace to deport you to Greece, and the Greeks are looking to charge you with possible charges in Greece."
"What is so special about the freak's lineage?" asked Petunia.
"You can't even say your nephew's name?" sneered Inspector Smith, "And for your information, the boy's father James Potter was the Marquess of Anglesey, and his grandmother was the sister of the current Duke of Inverness, his paternal aunt is the wife of the deceased Earl of Glamorgan. From his mother's side, he is a Fairchild which you should know as you were her sister. The Fairchild family is a cadet branch of the Phaesporia family, a branch of the Olympia family the oldest noble family in Greece. Granted you have been disowned formally from the Fairchild family."
Petunia's face drained of all colour, her eyes widening in realization. The weight of what Inspector Smith had just revealed hung heavily in the room.
"I... I never knew about James' titles," Petunia stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "And as for my family, I severed all ties with them long ago. They were always too eccentric for my liking."
"Your Nephew has been placed in the care of Artemis Phaesporia, now are you going to cooperate with me or do you want me to get the home office in here to get you on the next flight to Greece? Granted they are right at the door anyways so that may happen regardless"
Inspector Smith's stern face bore into Petunia's, giving her no respite. She could hear the faint murmur of voices outside the door, and she knew she was trapped, cornered by the weight of her own choices.
"I... I need a solicitor," she finally managed to say, her voice quivering.
Smith nodded. "That's your right. We'll arrange one for you. But keep in mind, Mrs. Dursley, the evidence against you is overwhelming. This isn't just about Harry anymore. This is about a lifetime of choices, of mistakes."
She nodded weakly, her bravado shattered. The weight of her actions, the significance of Harry's lineage, the international mess her actions had created - it was all too much.
There was a knock on the door, and another officer entered, holding a few documents. "Sir, the home office is here with a deportation order. the Greeks have decided to press charges, they are here to give her to surrender her over to the Hellenic National Police, once she reaches Greece"
The door opened, and two stern-faced individuals in suits entered, their badges displaying the emblem of the Home Office. Behind them, a tall, formidable-looking man with a chiselled face and sharp eyes bore the insignia of the Hellenic National Police on his uniform.
"Madam, are you Petunia Dursley?"
"Yes"
"We at the Home Office have a Deportation order, you will be sent with an official from the Home Office, and an Official from the Kingdom of Greece, once you are deported you will receive a lifetime ban from entering British soil, and you will face charges under Greek law, I will let the Hellenic National Police officer read you your charges"
The Greek officer took a step forward, his voice deep and authoritative. "Κυρία Petunia Dursley, κατηγορείστε για κακοποίηση παιδιού Έλληνα πολίτη σε σφυρηλάτηση εδάφους, απόπειρα δολοφονίας παιδιού, προδοσία εναντίον ευγενούς σπιτιού, παιδική δουλεία, σκληρές και ασυνήθιστες τιμωρίες, βασανιστήρια, έκθεση παιδιών σε κίνδυνο"
"Φταίει το φρικιό," spat Petunia Dursley.
The Greek officer raised an eyebrow, clearly not impressed by her defiance. "Η περιφρόνησή σας για το παιδί δεν δικαιολογεί τα εγκλήματα που έχετε διαπράξει," he said, his tone cold and unwavering. "IΣτην Ελλάδα, η οικογένεια είναι πολύτιμη και αυτό που έκανες στο αίμα σου είναι ασυγχώρητο."
[The Greek officer's translation: "Mrs. Petunia Dursley, you are charged with child abuse of a Greek citizen on foreign soil, attempted child murder, treason against a noble house, child slavery, cruel and unusual punishments, torture, and child endangerment."
"It's the freak's fault," spat Petunia Dursley.
The Greek officer raised an eyebrow, clearly not impressed by her defiance. "Your disdain for the child does not justify the crimes you've committed," he said, his tone cold and unwavering. "In Greece, family is precious, and what you did to your own blood is unforgivable."]
The room was thick with tension, each word a dagger of reality for Petunia. Her world was crashing around her, the realization of what she'd done and its consequences overwhelming her.
Inspector Smith turned to the Greek officer and nodded, "Thank you for your assistance, Officer."
The Greek officer simply nodded in acknowledgment. "We will ensure justice is served in Greece."
Petunia, now devoid of all her earlier bravado, looked up, tears streaming down her face. "I never thought it would come to this. All I wanted was a normal life."
"A normal life at the cost of an innocent child's well-being is not a life worth living, Mrs. Dursley," replied Inspector Smith coldly. "You made your choices, and now you must face their consequences."
The Home Office officials and the Greek officer approached Petunia, handcuffing her securely. As they led her out of the room, she cast a last, desperate glance back at the world she once knew.
Inspector Smith watched as the door closed behind them. He then leaned back, sighing heavily. This was not a case he'd ever forget, a reminder of the dark depths humanity could sink to, and the long arms of justice that would always pursue.
Harry nervously stepped inside Artemis' canvas tent, where the pleasant scent of rosemary from the burning incense greeted them. Artemis was seated on a large fur rug and looked up at Harry as he entered.
"Harry, we need to talk about what happened yesterday in the Amazon when you stumbled upon an Army Ant nest," she said.
The five-year-old hung his head, his voice barely a whisper as he mumbled an apology.
Artemis gently placed her hand under his chin and tilted his face upwards. "Little Moon, you are not to blame for that; the fault lies with Jophiel. Remember when I told you about what divine mandates are to angels? Well, I have issued a mandate to her. She will be tied to you; understanding your needs, sensing your dangers, and being present when you call. When you feel pain, she will too. She will also feel your emotions."
"Why mama?" asked Harry in confusion.
"Little moon I am a powerful goddess, in fact only the big three Hades, Zeus, and Poseidon are more powerful. Before the Olympian council punished me and I became Lily with no knowledge of me being a goddess, I swore to be chaste, I swore to never have children. but in my punishment, since I didn't have any of my memories, I fell in love with your father James Potter and had you. When we were killed and I returned to being Artemis, I searched endlessly for you, I sent my angels to help me search until I found you. I can't bear losing you again."
Harry noticing the tears in Artemis' eyes, embraced her into a Hug. "Don't cry, Mama."
"When Jophiel was supposed to be training you, she was careless and you stepped into a nest of Army Ants, I felt your pain from the rune Ariel placed on you, so me and Ariel flashed over to you, and we healed you and put you to sleep where I bound Jophiel to you."
Harry nudged his head into Artemis before looking at her with big silver eyes. "So Jophiel is being punished by being bound to me?"
Artemis sighed, brushing a stray lock of Harry's hair behind his ear. "It's not just a punishment, Little Moon. It's also a way to ensure your safety. You see, angels are powerful beings. By binding Jophiel to you, she will always be there to protect you. But yes, part of it is to teach her responsibility. She was negligent in her duty, and as a result, you got hurt."
"But I'm okay now, Mama. I don't want her to be sad," Harry said, his voice filled with innocence and compassion.
Artemis smiled gently at her son's kind nature. "Jophiel will learn, grow, and become better through this. Sometimes, lessons are hard to learn. It's not about making her sad, but about ensuring she understands the importance of her role."
"But if she's always with me, will I still have space for myself? I mean, will I still be... me?" Harry questioned, trying to wrap his young mind around the concept.
"Of course," Artemis reassured. "Jophiel will be there, but she won't interfere in your choices or your growth. Think of her as a guardian, watching over you from a distance, only intervening when it's truly necessary."
Harry pondered for a moment, then nodded, seemingly accepting the explanation. "Okay, Mama. I trust you."
Artemis leaned down, planting a tender kiss on Harry's forehead. "I will always do what's best for you, my Little Moon. Remember that."
"Mama, what was Daddy like? if you never fell in love before why did you fall in love with him?"
Artemis's gaze drifted to a distant memory, and for a brief moment, she looked vulnerable. "Your father, James, was a remarkable man, Harry. Brave, kind-hearted, and full of life. He had an infectious laugh that could light up the darkest of rooms and a heart that loved unconditionally."
She continued, "Before I became Lily, I had never experienced human emotions similarly. Love, as mortals know it, was foreign to me. As a goddess, I was detached from those feelings. But when the Olympian council punished me and I was reborn as a mortal, all those barriers disappeared. I was vulnerable, susceptible to human emotions and experiences."
"James was my anchor in that life. He was kind and patient, guiding me through the maze of human emotions. In him, I found a partner, someone who complemented me in every way. We were two souls entwined, destined for each other. It was as if the universe had conspired to bring us together."
Tears welled up in her eyes. "Falling in love with him was like breathing, Harry. It was effortless and natural. He made me feel alive in a way I had never experienced before. And although our time together was short-lived, the love we shared was eternal."
Harry, absorbing every word, reached out to hold her hand. "I wish I could've known him."
Artemis poked him in his rib causing Harry to laugh. "Although you look and act like me, I do see him in you, especially when you laugh, and smile."
"You think so, Mama?" Harry asked, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.
"Yes, every time you laugh, it's as if I'm hearing echoes of his laughter," Artemis responded with a fond smile. "Although I see more of me and a young Apollo in you, there are glimpses of him here and there,"
Harry's smile grew wider, "That makes me happy, Mama. It's like a part of Daddy is still with us. Mama, I know you don't like the bearded old man, but will I be going to Hogwarts when I am Older?"
She took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts. "Firstly, about Hogwarts. I believe it could be beneficial for you. However, the choice will ultimately be yours when the time comes. I will support whatever you decide. you will likely have a choice between the Hecates School of Magic in Greece, Ilvermorny in Massachusetts, and Hogwarts in Scotland. but know this I do not like Dumbledore, he placed you in the Dursleys despite me having a restraining order against him to protect you against the fool, and despite my will saying you were to go to James, twin sister, Amelia Bones. Me and James both believed that Amelia was a better fit to raise you than anyone else."
Artemis paused, her silver eyes filled with a mixture of anger and sadness. "Dumbledore's actions have not been in your best interest. I believe he has his own agenda. But, no matter what he or anyone else tries, I will always be here to protect you."
Harry looked up at her, trying to understand the gravity of the situation. "But why would he do that, Mama?"
Artemis sighed, "That, Little Moon, is a question with a complex answer. Many see Dumbledore as a wise and noble leader, but like all beings, he is flawed. He makes choices based on what he believes is the greater good, but often those choices hurt individuals. And sometimes, like in your case, those choices are driven by power and control."
Harry nodded, taking in her words. "I trust you, Mama. I know you'll always look out for me. And when the time comes, I'll make the best decision for me about where to study magic."
Artemis smiled, proud of her son's maturity and wisdom. "That's all I can ask for, Harry. No matter where you go, remember that you carry the strength and love of both your parents within you. You are special moonbeam, not just because of your part angel, part god, and part mortal, but because of the choices you make and the love you give."
Harry took a moment, processing the weight of Artemis's words. The knowledge of his heritage, the forces at play around him, and the responsibilities that may come with them were a lot to take in for a child his age. Yet, despite the overwhelming emotions, the presence of his mother by his side brought him comfort.
"I promise, Mama, I'll always try to make you proud," Harry whispered, holding onto Artemis's hand tightly.
She smiled tenderly, "You already do, every single day. It's not about the grand gestures or the mighty feats, but the small choices you make daily. The kindness you show, the love you share, and the courage you display."
Artemis then leaned down and wrapped her arms around Harry, pulling him into a protective embrace. The warmth of her hug provided solace and assurance to the young boy.
Harry let out a soft sigh, nestling closer to his mother. "Mama, do you think I'll get to meet other children like me? Those who have a mix of godly and mortal heritage?"
Artemis thought for a moment. "There is a called camp half-blood for demigods, children of gods and mortals, but your lineage is unique, Harry. you are a mix of Angel, god, and mortal. outside of Daphne Greengrass whom you met and have a bond that I will need to ask a certain love goddess about, and yourself you are the only two of that blend who have ever existed"
"But there are many demigods at Camp Half-Blood, and I believe that it would be good for you to meet them someday. They might not have the exact same lineage as you, but they too navigate the challenges of being both divine and mortal. They can offer companionship, friendship, and understanding."
Harry looked thoughtful. "It would be nice to meet others who understand what it's like. Daphne is wonderful, and I'm glad we have a bond, but sometimes I feel... different."
Artemis nodded, understanding his sentiments. "It's natural to seek out others who share similar experiences. And while each demigod's journey is unique, there's a shared understanding of the challenges and joys that come with such a heritage."
She caressed his face gently. "But always remember, it's our differences that make us unique and special. Embrace who you are, Harry. Your lineage, experiences, and choices make you who you are. And I couldn't be prouder."
Harry looked up at Artemis, his eyes shimmering with a mixture of curiosity and determination. "I want to learn more, Mama. About our family, our history, and the world of gods and magic."
Artemis smiled warmly. "In time, Little Moon. We have a lifetime to explore those stories together. And I promise, when you're ready, I'll introduce you to Camp Half-Blood and the world of gods, demigods, and all the magic that comes with it. but I can't let the other gods know about you until I complete the ritual I was telling you about yesterday is complete."
"Then why do Demeter and Apollo know about me? and why do Hades and Persephone know about me? Is it because of the Soul Shard that was stuck in my head" said Harry nudging his head into her chest. Artemis gently rubbed his hair.
Artemis sighed, holding Harry a bit closer. "Your astuteness never ceases to amaze me, Little Moon. It's true, some gods know about you, but not for the reasons you might think. Your Uncle Apollo is one of my closest siblings. We've shared many secrets and faced countless challenges together. It was only natural for me to confide in him about you."
"As for Demeter, she's always had a soft spot for children. Her daughter, Persephone, is married to Hades, and through that connection, Hades came to know of you. Demeter couldn't resist mentioning you during one of their gatherings. She wanted to ensure your safety in the mortal world, especially after hearing of your unique circumstances. And considering the bond you share with Daphne, who's under Demeter's domain, she would inevitably find out."
"Persephone and Hades, well, they are the rulers of the Underworld. Few secrets elude them. The shard in your head made a ripple in the cosmic balance, and Hades, being ever vigilant about souls and disturbances, took notice. That shard connected you to a dark force, and they wanted to ensure it didn't harm the balance of life and death."
Harry looked up, trying to process all the information. "So, they all know about me because they care?"
Artemis smiled softly, "Yes, Little Moon. They care about you. Each in their own way. The gods may often seem distant and uncaring, but they have their moments of compassion, especially when it comes to family."
Harry settled more comfortably in her embrace, "I'm glad they care. But, Mama, what about this shard you keep mentioning?"
Artemis hesitated for a moment, choosing her words carefully. "The shard was a fragment of a dark wizard's soul, Voldemort's to be precise. When he tried to harm you as a baby, his curse rebounded, and a part of his soul latched onto you. This piece became a Horcrux, unintentionally made."
Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "A piece of a dark wizard's soul was inside me?"
Artemis nodded, "Yes, but it's gone now. Hades and Persephone, with my help, ensured it was removed and destroyed. You're safe from it now."
Harry let out a sigh of relief, "That's good to know. I don't want any parts of evil wizards inside me."
Artemis chuckled softly, "Nor would I let them stay, my moonbeam. Rest assured, your well-being is my utmost priority."
"Mama, where will the ritual be done? I know you told me in Greece but where in Greece?"
"Well I will be taking you to Delos, Delos is a sacred island, the birthplace of Apollo and myself. It holds immense magical and divine energy. The island is protected by powerful enchantments that repel any malevolent intentions and neutralize threats. This makes it an ideal location for the ritual," Artemis explained.
A/N: The next chapter is the ritual, only three chapters left for this arc.
Please review, I read every comment and try to reply to every review.
FFN reviews.
Andrew Lee Houghton chapter 5. Dec 8
this is an interesting story only one problem has come up we're is Daphne's sister.
In the books, Astoria is only mentioned as the wife of Draco Malfoy, and Daphne Greengrass is only mentioned in one sentence in book 5, as such it gives me a lot of flexibility. I am making Astoria, Daphne's cousin, not her sister.
James Birdsong chapter 5. Dec 8
This is a good story. I wonder if anyone will comment about the cloak. Though I guess Dumbledore probably still has it for now. The Deathly Hallows will surely play a part in this story perhaps.
Dumbledore still has the cloak for now, but he will be forced to give it to Harry at some point.
firebird-fenix chapter 5. 23h ago
Hi
I have a question or a few,
1st is Hermione going to be a member of the hunters, a part of Harry's family (the hunters like his big sisters)?
2nd are all the Weasleys intrusive (Molly, Ronald, Percy and Ginny)?
3rd is Sirius going to be released (after being found innocent)?
Bye
for question 1 no Hermione will not be joining the Hunters.
for question 2 and 3 Spoilers