Hades made a face.
"Those witches and wizards always cheat death!"
Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.
"Sounds boring," a demigod said. The rest of the half-bloods murmured in agreement.
Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills.
"Still doesn't make his life any less boring," Percy spoke up. Annabeth playfully punched his arm.
He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large mustache. Mrs. Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors.
Everyone burst out laughing, while Aphrodite and her kids looked horrified.
"That's disgusting!" Aphrodite got out.
"Seriously" her kids echoed.
Hephaestus was the one to respond to their comments.
"Hey, let's not bully them. They can't control how they look OR came out," Hephaestus said while glaring at his mother.
Hera shrugged and simply said, "We're gods. We're supposed to be perfect."
Hephaestus left it at that, sighing because there is no point in arguing.
The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.
"That's what Apollo thinks of himself!" Artemis said, scowling.
"'Cause it's true!" Apollo replied, nodding to himself. Artemis rolled her eyes.
The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it.
"Well, we're about to discover it," Hermes said.
They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters. Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's sister, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDursleyish as it was possible to be.
"Well, duh! It's because they're not Dursleys," Percy said, as if it was the smartest thing that came out of anyone's mouth.
Everyone groaned, except for Poseidon, who thought that it was a very smart comment.
The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Potters arrived in the street.
"Would they even care?" Annabeth asked.
"Probably not," Athena responded.
The Dursleys knew that the Potters had a small son, too, but they had never even seen him. This boy was another good reason for keeping the Potters away; they didn't want Dudley mixing with a child like that.
"Hey! Rude!" Conner and Travis Stoll said together.
When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on the dull, gray Tuesday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country.
There was eagerness among the demigods. The gods looked a little less intrigued.
Mr. Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work, and Mrs. Dursley gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair.
Everyone snickered at the Dursley's boring life.
None of them noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past the window. At half past eight, Mr. Dursley picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs. Dursley on the cheek, and tried to kiss Dudley good-bye but missed, because Dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls
"Sounds like one of the Ares kids' tantrums," Percy said.
The entire cabin, including Ares, glared at him.
Percy just shrugged.
"Little tyke," chortled… was Albus Dumbldore.
"He sounds important," Demeter said, nodding.
"As important as cereal," Hades added. Demeter didn't catch the sarcasm but noticed something was off when everyone snickered at Hades' comment.
Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome. He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street.
"Creepy," commented Clarisse.
The rest nodded and murmured in agreement.
For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known."
He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop. He clicked it again — the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him.
"Woah, I need one of those!" Apollo exclaimed.
"Me too," Hermes agreed.
The rest of the gods shook their heads in amusement.
Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it. "Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall." He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes.
While the demigods' jaws dropped in shock, the hunters looked bored as they've seen many animal-to-human and vise versa changes.
"I can turn into a lot more animals than a cat," Zeus bragged.
"Always bragging," Poseidon and Hades said together.
Their children looked at each other and grinned.
She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.
"How did you know it was me?" she asked.
"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."
There was a pause as most tried to imagine a cat sitting stiffly.
Then, everyone burst out laughing.
Athena put her palm to her forehead. When everyone settled down, she continued.
"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall. "All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here." Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily. "Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no — even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Dursleys' dark living-room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls . . . shooting stars. . . . Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent — I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."
"Celebrating what?" everyone said in unison.
"You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."
"I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors."
"Muggle?" Percy asked. Annabeth shot him a look that told him to shut up.
She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day YouKnow-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?"
"It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"
"A what?"
"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."
"Ew, no thank you," Nico said.
"No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops.
Everyone burst out laughing at the similarities.
"Nico, are you Professor McGonagall?" Apollo managed to choke out.
Nico and Athena kept stern faces.
"As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone —"
"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You-Know-Who' nonsense — for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort." Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."
"Agreed. It's just a name," Percy said.
"I know you haven't," said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, Voldemort, was frightened of."
The one swallowed by Kronos had smug looks on their faces.
"Kronos was frightened of me. I have the right to be proud," Demeter said. Persephone sighed.
"You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."
"Only because you're too — well — noble to use them."
"It's lucky its dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."
"Ah, true love!" Aphrodite squealed. Her children squealed too, while Artemis and Athena shook their heads.
"Does everything have to be true love?" Artemis question. Aphrodite nodded seriously.
Professor McGonagall shot… dead."
"I can confirm," Hades said. Demeter elbowed him.
"Ow," he cried.
"That's for being insensitive," she elbowed him again, "that's just for my pleasure."
Hades glared at his sister.
Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped. "Lily and James . . . I can't believe it . . . I didn't want to believe it . . . Oh, Albus . . ."
Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know . . . I know . . ." he said heavily.
"As Aphrodiote said before, 'true love'" Apollo said.
"You know, I'm kinda with Artemis and Athena on this one," Percy said without realizing his words.
Annabeth looked like she wanted to punch him. Percy smiled nervously.
Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potters' son, Harry. But — he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke — and that's why he's gone."
"Powerful kid!" Thalia exclaimed.
Dumbledore nodded glumly. "It's — it's true?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done . . . all the people he's killed . . . he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding . . . of all the things to stop him . . . but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?"
"I'm wondering that too!" Nico and Hades said together. They eyed each other then grinned.
"We can only… has left now."
"NO!" Percy put his hand on his chest dramatically, "THAT'S ALMOST AS BAD AS SMELLY GABE. Keyword 'almost''
Everyone rolled their eyes, but those who knew about Smelly Gabe secretly agreed.
"You don't mean — you can't mean the people who live here?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore — you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son — I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here!"
"It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."
"A LETTER?!" Everyone cried.
"A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him! He'll be famous — a legend — I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter Day in the future — there will be books written about Harry — every child in our world will know his name!"
"WELL, THEY BETTER!" Thalia said, still in shock from the letter.
"Exactly," said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can't you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?"
"That's a nice point he makes," Hestia said thoughtfully. Athena and her children nodded in agreement.
Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes — yes, you're right, of course. But how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Harry underneath it.
"Hagrid's bringing him."
"You think it — wise — to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"
"Umm… justice for Hagrid," Connor Stoll said.
"I would… flyin' over Bristol."
Most of the girls cooed. The hunters rolled their eyes.
Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.
Everyone whipped their heads around at Zeus.
Zeus, looking defeated for no reason, said, "What? I didn't do anything."
"Lightning is your specialty, isn't it?" Poseidon questioned.
Zeus just glared at him.
"Is that where… "To Harry Potter — the boy who lived!"
"Okay, THAT is a cool title," Thalia said.
"Yeah. I deserve that one in specific," Percy said proudly.
"No you don't" Thalia said sternly.
"Yes I do," Percy countered.
"No you don't"
"Yes I do"
"No you don't"
"Yes I d-"
"Can you guys cut it out," Nico asked half-annoyed, half-amused by the argument.
Both Thalia and Percy stuck their tongues out at Nico. Everyone else laughed.
"I'm reading the next chapter," Ares said. Athena threw him the book.
Ares made a face at her and started reading.
