Harry Potter, Squatter
By Enterprise1701_d
Chapter 67
AN: I am pretty sure no update alert went out for chapter 66 either, so if you haven't already, you may want to go back and check chapters 66 and 65. I haven't been receiving review notifications, either, so I'm pretty sure that something broke on FF dot net. Again…
Percy stared from Harry to Annabeth to the giant Athena Parthenos statue, and back again. "Whoa," he managed.
"It was just a bit of fun," Harry said, self-consciously, not really liking the way Percy was gaping.
"That nearly killed you," Annabeth reminded him with a snort, before turning to the new demigod. Having seen Harry's look of discomfort, she handily redirected the conversation. "Anyway, since you're alone in your cabin, I asked around a bit. Luke has agreed to look out for you, teach you sword-fighting, and so forth."
Percy had that dear-in-headlights look again, and nodded softly. "Right. Sword-fighting. Thanks," he managed, although his tone was flat, in a 'I can't believe this is happening' kind of way.
"Come on, I'll introduce you," Annabeth said, knocking on the door to cabin 11. "He's a Son of Hermes, and probably the best swordsman in the last couple hundred years." She glanced at Harry. "Other than Harry."
Harry shrugged. "I'm not that good," he said, feeling self-conscious again as he remembered the many fights he'd been in, and how often he'd had to scramble for his life. Not to mention, his various teachers that could blow him out of the water with an errant thought.
Of course, most of his teachers were either gods, or chosen mortals with thousands of years worth of experience, a fact he completely glossed over.
The door to cabin 11 was pulled open by a certain Son of Hermes. "So this is our new camper," Luke said with a friendly smile and Harry was glad to see that he was feeling better. Last time he'd seen Luke, the poor guy was crushed by his failure at a quest.
"Percy, Son of Poseidon, meet Luke, Son of Hermes," Annabeth introduced by way of answer.
"Nice to meet you," Percy managed.
"Good to meet you, too," Luke answered with a friendly clap to Percy's shoulder. "You're on your own when it comes to cabin activities and stuff, but I'll keep an eye out for you anyway. If you've got any questions, feel free to ask them."
"Thanks," Percy said, looking relieved. "What was this thing about sword-fighting?"
"Every demigod needs to know how to defend themselves," Luke replied, casually, as if sword-fighting was a common, every-day activity. "And not to brag, I'm fairly good at it."
"Thanks," Percy repeated.
Luke grinned, the scar leading down from his right eye to his cheek pulling tight. "You're welcome," he said, clapping Percy's shoulder again. "I should get back inside and let you get on with the tour. Remember, stop by anytime."
"I will. Thanks," Percy said, again, as Luke nodded and vanished back inside the cabin.
"Come on, we'll show you the volleyball court," Annabeth said, grabbing his wrist to physically drag him away from the cabin.
"Already seen it," Percy replied, somewhat mulishly.
Annabeth sighed. "You're the Son of Poseidon. You're probably The One. You really need to step up and do better, Jackson," she told him.
Harry found that rather unfair. "Hey now, Annabeth. He just got here."
The Daughter of Athena seemed to relax a bit. "Yeah, I know," she said, apologetically. "Sorry, Percy. It's been… frustrating."
Percy snorted, but under a gimlet eye from Harry, he shrugged and accepted the apology.
"Lookie here, fresh meat!" They heard, and Harry snorted when he saw Clarisse approach. She was accompanied by a couple of her sisters.
"Quick, Percy. Clarisse is going to pick a fight with you. It's what she does. Just fight back," he rambled, just before the Daughter of Ares reached them.
"What?" Percy asked, getting that familiar dear-in-headlights look. The poor demigod really wasn't handling all of this really well, and seemed stuck in a stupor most of the time.
"So, this the newbie that has the camp in uproar? Son of the Sea God and all that?" Clarisse asked, her muscular arms crossed across her chest.
"Yup," Harry said, cheerfully. "Clarisse, Daughter of Ares, meet Percy, Son of Poseidon."
"Ares? Like… God of War, Ares?" Percy asked, dumbly.
Clarisse obviously misinterpreted it. "Got a problem with that, Prissy?"
"He's still in shock, he's really not handling this well," Harry interjected. "Yes, Percy, like the God of War."
"It's Percy," Percy said, as if he hadn't heard what Harry said, causing the Son of Tyche to facepalm.
"Don't encourage her, Percy," he recommended.
"Oh, that ship has sailed," Clarisse crowed. "Don't you think, Newbie?"
"It's how I got stuck with 'Newbie'," Harry continued. "Despite me not being a newbie in the least."
"Regardless," Clarisse said. "We have an initiation ceremony," she finished, grabbing Percy in a powerful headlock and giving him a vicious noogie.
"Clarisse-" Annabeth tried.
"Stay out of it, Wise Girl," Clarisse said with a grin, turning around and walking toward the bathroom.
Percy struggled and attempted to free himself from the mother of all noogies, but failed miserably.
"Fight back, Percy!" Harry shouted. "She won't respect you unless you fight back!"
"'m trying!" the captured demigod shouted.
"Stop trying and start doing!" Harry shouted back.
Percy tried to hit Clarisse, but his position made it so he didn't have any leverage. "You have legs!" Harry suggested.
Percy seemed to hear him, and stuck one of his legs between Clarisse's, causing them both to fall to the ground. Now free, Percy jumped to his feet, and tried to punch the thuggish Daughter of Ares.
Unfortunately for him, dirty fighting was something the Children of Ares excelled at, and Clarisse caught his punch, and pulled him down into wrestling range. They rolled on the ground for a bit, ending up with Clarisse sitting on top of the poor Son of Poseidon, with a strong hold on both his hands.
Before ending up slapping him with his own hands. "Quit hitting yourself," she told him, before slapping him with his other hand. "Quit hitting yourself. Quit hitting yourself."
Percy screamed at her in impotent rage.
"I think he's had enough, Clarisse," Harry said, suddenly next to them despite nobody seeing him move.
"Yeah, I guess you're right," the tough girl said, jumping up and lifting Percy to his feet by the hands she had still captured, before releasing him. "Ya need training, Prissy."
"Percy," Percy grunted.
"Still, he managed to get you to the ground without a single lesson, that's not too bad," Harry said, trying to avoid further violence.
Clarisse shrugged. "Ya definitely need training," she told Percy. "Still, you didn't quit. That's good." She grabbed him, gave him a short noogie, and let him go. "See ya for wrestling practice, Prissy!"
Percy grumbled under his breath, causing Harry to grin. "Clarisse isn't that bad," he told his fellow demigod, causing an insulted 'hey!' from Ares' daughter.
Ignoring her, Harry continued, "She's just really straightforward and only respects you when you show backbone."
Percy gave Harry a half-hearted glare. "And why didn't you help me?"
"Because Clarisse wasn't really going to hurt you, and I can't fight all your battles for you," Harry said, kindly.
Percy's glare softened slightly as he thought about that and recognized the truth of it.
Winking at the Son of Poseidon, now that the trouble was over, Harry turn to Clarisse. "Hey, Clarisse, want to have some fun? Like last December?"
The Daughter of Ares frowned for a moment, wondering what he was talking about, before remembering her letting him 'pummel' her using movie-style fighting during the whole getting-kicked-off-Olympus debacle.
Her smile grew wide. "Do I get to fight back this time?" she teased.
Harry laughed. "Wouldn't be fun otherwise, would it?" he asked.
"Deal!" Clarisse shouted, charging him and telegraphing a wide hay-maker that was right out of an action movie.
Harry leaned back to allow it to sail past him, close enough that he could feel the wind of her fist flashing past his face. "Whoop!" he cheered, retaliating.
They proceeded to improvise an intricate choreography that would make seasoned Hollywood studios weep with envy, performing acrobatic feats that were right out of a contortionist's repertoire.
"Holy…" Percy muttered. "That's incredible!"
"And useless," Annabeth said, trying and failing to keep the impressed tone out of her voice. As Percy looked at her, she elaborated. "That style of fighting is very flashy, but it telegraphs where you're going to hit, so any halfway decent fighter is going to dodge every attack. Of course, those two nuts trust each other implicitly, so they're dodging only with the most minimum amount of margin, plus they're trusting each other to stick to the game and not exploit the many, many weakness and openings that flashy fighting creates."
"Oh," Percy said, sounding disappointed.
"That style of fighting's only good for movies," Annabeth said. "Or impressing people, I suppose."
Percy snorted. It was definitely impressing him.
Harry, meanwhile, telegraphed he was about to do something impressive when he saw Clarisse drawing back her fist way too far for a straight-up punch.
The Daughter of Ares then proceeded to throw said punch, with devastating force and as advertised, completely straight.
Harry pretended to 'catch' her fist with both of his hands, then jumped up, grabbed the three dan tian in his energy network, and yanked upward. Just as if he were running up a tree, his body lifted far higher than he could jump, buoyed by the lifting of the three energy centers inside of his body.
To the outsiders, it looked like he jumped up and was now holding himself up, upside down, supported on Clarisse's outstretched fist. At the same time, it looked like Clarisse was strong enough to actually keep her arm extended and support Harry and his entire upside-down weight.
Everyone gaped. Clarisse tried to play it off as an every-day occurrence. Harry suspended himself upside-down for just a few moments longer, then his body language practically shouted he was going to invert and kick at her face at the same time.
Clarisse gave him just enough time to start his drop, before yanking her fist back and taking a half-step back – just far enough that his cartwheeling leg missed her close enough to ruffle her hair.
Clarisse cheered as she did so, then engaged him. Once more they descended into movie-fighting, as if they were in a cheesy martial arts movie.
"You have impugned my honor, I will have vengeance," Harry over-acted, pretended that his lips did not match his voice as if he were in a badly dubbed movie.
Clarisse barked out a laugh, and ignored his pretending; she knew she wouldn't be able to pull it off half as well as Harry did and was more than happy to play 'blackhat'. Fighting was serious business, and she did take it serious most of the time, but sometimes a girl just wanted to cut loose and have some fun.
And Harry was definitely good enough to keep up with this pretend-fighting.
The fact that most choreographed and well-rehearsed action scenes in movies weren't as impressive as their improvised fight wasn't something she even considered.
She therefore frowned when Harry took a jump back to open space between them. Why was the Newbie breaking off their fight while they were having fun!?
Harry grinned at her, showing the fight wasn't over, and brought his hands together in various configurations that he had shamelessly stolen from the Naruto manga Apollo had given him for his birthday one year.
Snake, Ram, Monkey, Boar, Horse, Tiger.
He inhaled, threw some Shen at the spell he wanted,and shouted – his voice reverberating strangely. "Katon; Gōkakyū no jutsu!"
He then leaned forward dramatically and proceeded to spit a fireball at Clarisse.
The Daughter of Ares' eyes grew big, and ignored the various yelps and screams coming from the onlookers as she proceeded to roll underneath it with reflexes that could only come from a demigod with years of intensive training behind her. "Newbie, did you just spit a fireball at me?" she demanded.
At the same time, she completely ignored the fact that said fireball had splashed over the bathhouse behind her. Thankfully, it was built from cinderblocks, and therefore a mere fireball wasn't going to damage it.
It did, however, leave it covered in soot.
Harry waved his hand in dramatic fashion, while silently using his little cleaning spell. The soot vanished and the building looked like it was brand-new.
Clarisse whistled, then turned back to her 'foe'. "Since you're using magic, I'm using weapons," she declared, expanding her spear with a flourish and causing its tip to wreathe with lightning.
It was all very dramatic, but Harry somehow knew that the lightning wasn't going to do more than give him a little jolt. He therefore grinned, and pretend once more to be in a badly lip-synced movie. "Only one as without honor as you would use a weapon in a martial arts fight," he declared while pushing his shoulders back and pretending to be the good guy.
"Hey, you used fireballs, Newbie!" Clarisse shouted back, not in the least offended by his speech and instead attacking him.
"It is only without honor if the other one does it," Harry said as he leaned back like a limbo dancer going underneath the pole, looking at the spear as it sailed over him. "Therefore, using magic is tactics, not cheating."
Recognizing her father's teaching when she heard it, Clarisse hollered with laughter as she went after Harry with her spear.
Once more they did their best to reenact the deciding battle in an action movie, and blowing most of them out of the water despite improvising it all.
"Whoa," Percy muttered. "I'll be able to do that?"
"It's useless," Annabeth reminded him.
"But impressive," Percy said decisively.
"True," Annabeth mused. "With enough training, if you're good enough, then yes, you should be able to improvise something like that. I've been here for years, and have been training for all that time, and I doubt I'm good enough to do that."
"It's a dance," Harry said as he summersaulted over the spear. "It's about making your partner look good more than looking good yourself."
"Yup, give-and-take," Clarisse said as she reversed the direction of her spear on a dime.
Of course, Harry was eleven. Clarisse was twelve. And, despite years of training, they were still young.
And so, when Clarisse's spear came at him from the reversed direction, and Harry leaned back to avoid it, they both fatally misjudged the distance.
The spear Ares had given his daughter struck him in the side with a wet thump, followed by a scream from his throat.
"Harry!" Clarisse shouted, dropping her spear, and racing to catch him. She almost made it, too, but Harry thumped to the ground with a boneless thud that sent shivers down the spines of everyone present.
Immediately, watching demigods pressed around him, screaming, shouting, calling his name. Clarisse, using her large size to her advantage, cleared space around him and got everyone silent once more.
"Harry! Talk to me!" the Daughter of Ares shouted as she turned him over.
"Ow," Harry declared. His shirt was destroyed, but his skin was covered by the tiny links of the armored shirt Odin had bestowed upon him.
"What the…" Clarisse said, fingering the tiny chains in the chainmail.
"Lord Odin gave it to me," Harry said, groaning as he tried to sit up. "It's called mithril. Good thing I had it on, or you'd have cleaved me in half."
"I thought I had," Clarisse declared, sounding relieved. "You have the luck of the gods, Newbie."
"And you hit like a truck," Harry said. "The shirt stops cuts, not blunt-force trauma. I'm sure you've cracked a couple of my ribs."
Clarisse grinned. "Ya should've dodged, Newbie," she drawled, obviously covering herself and pretending she hadn't been worried about him a moment ago.
"Sheesh, Harry, are you alright?" Annabeth asked, finally managing to get a word in.
"Yeah, I'm fine," the Son of Tyche proclaimed. "I zigged instead of zagged," he added, before trying to leverage himself to his feet. "Okay, ow," he said as he sagged back down.
"Did you break your spear?" Percy asked Clarisse from the other side of Harry. "I swear I heard something crack."
Clarisse puffed up and was about to proclaim her awesomeness, when a voice interjected. A voice that sounded anything but pleased.
"No," the voice stated, drawing attention to itself without any effort at all. "Those were his ribs," Hestia concluded as she stopped in front of Harry, sitting on the ground, Percy and Annabeth, leaning over close to Harry, and Clarisse, standing upright with a hand extended, as if ready to help Harry to his feet.
None moved.
The Goddess of Home and Hearth looked displeased.
"That is what happens when you are rough," Hestia told Harry. "You should have been more careful."
"We were just playing," Harry muttered, not liking it at all when Hestia was anything other than pleased.
"Playing that broke three of your ribs," she stated, crossing her arms and giving him a look.
Clarisse opened her mouth, ready to speak up, when Hestia simply looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, was I speaking to you?" the Goddess of the Home asked.
The rough and tumble Daughter of Ares scuffed at the ground with one foot. "No, ma'am," she muttered.
"That is what I thought as well," Hestia said. "I will be having a chat with your father about this."
Clarisse looked confused for a moment, knowing her dad wasn't going to care, before paling when she realized that Harry was Hestia's adopted son and that her father, despite everything, wanted to stay on Hestia's good side.
Hestia gave a short nod when she noticed Clarisse paling, before turning back to Harry. "You should go back home, where I can take proper care of you," she told her newly adopted son.
Who knew having a child would be this stressful? She spared a few apologetic thoughts toward her family, she had never properly realized what it meant to have children that got into trouble.
"But Hestia," Harry protested. "I need to help Percy-"
"While admirable, I am sure that Percy can find his own way," Hestia stated. "After all, in your own words, you can not fight every battle for him."
Harry pouted, hated having his own words used against him. In a last-ditch effort to weasel himself out of trouble, he looked at Percy. "Percy, this is your aunt Hestia, she's your dad's oldest sister."
Percy looked like he couldn't believe that the nine-year-old girl in front of him was any kind of goddess. "Ehm… nice to meet you?" the new demigod offered, recognizing when his new friend was in some kind of trouble and willing to play along.
It was in the Friendship Code, after all. A friend should always be willing to help a friend out of trouble with any kind of authority figure.
"It is nice to meet you, too, Percy," Hestia told him kindly, before looking back at Harry with a gaze that said she knew exactly what he had tried, and that it wasn't going to work. Despite looking straight at Harry, she continued to address Percy. "I'm afraid that my adopted son has gotten himself injured doing silly tricks, so I'll need to take him home. I'm sure we'll get a chance to talk later."
Harry shrunk in on himself when Hestia claimed he had been doing silly tricks. True, they had been silly, but they weren't exactly tricks…
"Now, come on, Harry," Hestia said, addressing him once more, and making an inviting motion.
He knew it was nothing like an invitation and more like an edict. He groaned when he tried to stand, and his injured ribs sent bolt of pain through him.
"Here, lemme help," Clarisse muttered, doing anything but look at Hestia. The Goddess of the Home had a fierce look, and the Daughter of Ares felt thoroughly cowed – a sensation she wasn't at all used to and didn't like in the least, but one she didn't feel up to confronting right now.
She leaned down, grabbed Harry by the hips, and simply hefted him to his feet. Lifted by the hips rather than the shoulders or chest, his ribs weren't jarred all that much and he found himself on his feet rather quickly.
"Thanks, Clarisse."
"Yeah, sure," the Daughter of Ares muttered, looking everywhere except in the direction of Hestia.
"It wasn't your fault," Harry tried.
"No," Hestia interjected. "It was both of you playing rough. While I understand the occasional need for violence, this wasn't necessary."
Harry and Clarisse looked at each other, not really knowing what to say.
"Truthfully, Lady Hestia," Chiron said, "it was a rather impressive display of reading your opponent and reacting to their movements. If they hadn't gotten distracted, they wouldn't have gotten hurt. I suppose that is a lesson, too."
At that point in time, Harry and Clarisse both decided that the centaur was the best teacher in the world, period.
"Perhaps," Hestia replied, obviously unwilling to enter into an argument with Chiron. "But that still leaves Harry with three broken ribs, so I will be taking him home."
"Of course, Lady Hestia," the Trainer of Heroes stated deferentially. "Please do not be too hard on the lad; he's young still and lacks experience."
Forget the best teacher in the world, Harry was going to build a shrine to the centaur.
"I suppose," Hestia answered. "Come along, Harry."
"Yes, Hestia," Harry said, quietly, trudging after her toward the central fire. He honestly hoped she wasn't going to be too upset with him. They were just playing, after all, and demigods routinely got hurt during training and such, so it wasn't that out of the ordinary.
They arrived at Hestia's temple, and Harry quickly retreated to his room, not wanting to experience any more of Hestia's disappointment.
Five minutes later found him in front of his mirror. Removing his torn shirt had been easy. Removing his pants had been as easy as opening them up and letting them drop to the ground before stepping out of them.
Removing the mithril chainmail, on the other hand, meant lifting it over his head.
And his broken ribs made their objection to that particular movement quite strenuously known.
A knock came at his door, and Harry sighed; he didn't want to keep Hestia out, even if he wasn't looking forward to the talk they were no doubt about to have.
So, he turned and stepped to his door and released the lock.
"Hi, Hestia," the young demigod tried.
"Hello, Harry," the Goddess of the Home replied, giving him a full body look. "Are you having difficulty?"
Harry didn't want to admit to it, as that would likely trigger Hestia again.
The goddess sighed. "I sincerely dislike you getting hurt," she said. "Come along."
"Dressed like this?" Harry asked, motioning to the fact that he was only wearing the chainmail reaching to his thighs and a set of underwear underneath.
The goddess motioned as if it were no big deal, and Harry found himself dressed in a pair of slacks and a t-shirt covering the chainmail.
"Where are we going?" he asked, not wanting to argue and cause her to resume her disappointment.
"Where else?" Hestia asked as they left her temple and turned to the right, making a straight line for Apollo's temple.
"Oh," Harry whispered quietly. He really didn't like it when Hestia was mad at him. Especially when she was mad at him over nothing. He'd just been having some fun with Clarisse, that's all.
Hestia knocked on the door of the bright-gold temple.
It opened almost immediately. "Aunt Hestia! And Harry," the cheerful God of the Sun greeted them. "Come in, come in!" he bade them, stepping back and waving his arm in invitation.
"Thank you, Apollo," Hestia said, kindly, while Harry offered the god a tremulous smile. Apollo noticed and gave him a worried look in response. Harry's smile turn wry.
"Harry was roughhousing," Hestia explained as they took seat in Apollo's wide-open living area. Harry did his best to not let show how much sitting hurt. "And he managed to get hurt. I was hoping that you would have a few moments to take a look?"
"Of course, Aunt Hestia!" Apollo said, cheerfully, casting an experienced eye over Harry. "Ouch," the god winced. "Three broken ribs? That looks painful, Kiddo. Come on, let's take care of those."
Immediately, Harry started feeling better. "Thanks, Mister Apollo. I could have wrapped them and have some Ambrosia to take the edge off. I'm sorry for the trouble."
"Nonsense, Kiddo," Apollo said, cheerfully. "So, what happened?"
"Clarisse and I were having some fun," Harry started explaining, noticing Hestia's eyes narrow slightly in displeasure. "We were doing movie-fighting, like a combination of a boss fight from a Western Action Movie and a Far-Eastern Martial Arts movie."
"That sounds absolutely awesome," Apollo said; as God of the Arts his domain immediately informed him of the particulars. Martial arts were, by their very definition, arts.
"It was like dancing, only more active," Harry said with a nod and a grin, getting exited now that Apollo was as well. "So we improvised while reading each other's moves and predicting them."
Apollo was smiling widely. "And with a demigod's reflexes, I bet most action movies were weeping with envy."
"And then he got hurt," Hestia said.
"We kind of lost focus, and I zigged instead of zagged, so Clarisse's spear hit me in the side," Harry said, looking down.
"Thankfully, you're wearing that armored shirt, it probably saved your life," Apollo told him, while Hestia let out a sound of displeasure. "Still, I bet it was an awesome fight."
"I did the 'handstand on her outstretched fist' thing," Harry said. "And then I pulled a Naruto and pretended to spit a fireball at her. It was totally awesome!"
"Please don't encourage him, Apollo," Hestia said.
"I'm sorry, Aunt Hes-" Apollo started to apologize before looking at her. "You're not nearly as upset as you're pretending to be," he accused.
"Huh?" Harry asked.
"I've known Aunt Hestia for thousands of years," Apollo explained. "You're not as angry as you're pretending to be," he repeated to Hestia, who now looked slightly sheepish.
"I merely wanted to instill a sense of caution in Harry," she said. "He gets hurt way too often for my tastes."
Harry pouted at her. "So you're not really angry?" he asked.
"I'm more upset at you getting hurt," Hestia confirmed. "Please, do be careful in the future."
"I was being careful," Harry said, softly. "It was an accident. Percy asked something, and both Clarisse and I replied instead of focusing on what we were doing."
"And now you know why focus is important," Apollo said, trying to placate Hestia while simultaneously giving the demigod a leg up.
"Yes, Mister Apollo," Harry said with a nod.
Hestia gave Apollo a look, telling him that she knew exactly what he was doing. "I just want you to be careful in the future," Hestia said.
"I will, Hestia," Harry acknowledged.
"I realize that you've got no experience with this part," Apollo told Hestia, "but kids get hurt all the time. You can't wrap them in Bubble Wrap and stick them somewhere safe." He sighed. "Trust me, they'll hate you for being overprotective. Voice of experience."
Harry felt bad for him and reached out to put a hand over the god's.
"I suppose," Hestia said.
"Nobody likes being locked up," Harry said. "I've been there. No matter the reason."
The Goddess of the Home looked pained. "I really hope you don't see me like that."
"Of course not, Hestia!" he hurriedly said. "I was replying to Mister Apollo's statement!"
"And yet, you have worked around me in the past," Hestia commented idly.
Harry shifted uncomfortably, not knowing what to say. Apollo grinned at the young demigod, letting him dig himself out of the hole of his own making – or allowing him to dig in deeper, whichever the case may be.
"I just don't want to worry you," Harry eventually said. "And it's better to ask forgiveness than permission."
"That sounds like something Ares taught you," Hestia said, looking away as if trying to find the God of War.
"It's something I learned before," Harry answered, softly. "When you can't do anything right, you do what you have to and accept the consequences."
Hestia seemed to deflate at that, shifted closer to Harry, and gave him a hug. "I really dislike you getting hurt," the goddess said, softly.
"I know," Harry whispered into her shoulder as he hugged her back. "I'm sorry. It really was just an accident."
"Very well, we won't talk about this anymore," Hestia answered, sweeping the entire conversation under the rug. She knew intellectually that Apollo was right, but Harry was her son. Adopted he may be, he was her son. Her first son.
Some emotional trouble was to be expected, she supposed. It would take her some time to get used to the idea that she couldn't protect him at all times – or, as Apollo said, stick him in a safely padded room for the rest of his life.
Even if that would make it easier on her.
Apollo was smiling widely, obviously happy the hard conversation was over.
"So, can I go back to camp now?" Harry asked after they broke the embrace. "I still need to help Percy."
Hestia gave him a look of obvious tolerance. "Why don't you let poor Percy find his own legs for a while?" she offered. "Like you yourself said, you can't fight all his battles for him."
Harry tried not to pout, he really did. Having his own words thrown back at him was playing dirty.
The Goddess of the Home laughed softly at the conflicted look on his face. "Why don't we go home, and you can try one of those exercises Marduk has given you?"
Deciding that this was one battle he wasn't going to win, Harry surrendered. Besides, it had been a while since he meditated and tried to access the Akashic Records using the exercises Marduk had given him.
The ancient mage was right; the Records were dangerous, but with the proper exercises it was doable.
He just needed to practice.
"Alright, Hestia," he said.
The Goddess of the Home gave him a sincere smile, then turned to their host. "Thank you for looking at Harry, Apollo."
"No problem, Aunt Hestia," the amicable God of the Sun said. "Always happy to help when I have a moment. As long as it isn't related to a quest, that is. Stupid non-interference laws."
Hestia laughed again. "You are not the first, and won't be the last, who complains about that," she said. "On the other hand, it has kept the world turning."
"We did tend to go overboard when interfering," Apollo admitted.
0000
Harry pushed open the door to Helios' Temple. "Hi, Mister Helios!" He greeted the half-faded deity, before putting a strawberry shortcake down on the altar. He hadn't been able to meditate, as hyped up as he was, so he decided to bake a cake and go visit his old friend.
The offered cake vanished almost immediately, making the demigod chuckle. "I'm glad you liked it," he said to the disembodied presence. "I'm just going to go clean," he added, letting Helios know he hadn't forgotten their deal.
As Harry drew a pail of water, his magic reached out to the cleaning supplies. Not long after, Harry was dusting while a couple of mops were cleaning the floor behind him.
Helios' presence seemed to whistle the theme to Dukas' L'apprenti Sorcier.
Harry laughed. "Luckily, I know better than to auto-duplicate the mops," he told the half-faded god.
Conversation trailed off after Harry told Helios about his year at Hogwarts, before explaining where he brought Percy to Camp and losing sight of Percy's mother for just a second. He ended with the fun he and Clarisse had, which resulted in three broken ribs, a trip to Apollo, and Hestia basically grounding him on Olympus.
The Sun Deity felt appropriately sympathetic to Harry's plight.
Conversation trailed off and Harry sunk into that happy mindset of manual labour. There was something uniquely liberating about simply allowing your hands to work and your mind to rest – even if half your work was being done through magic.
It took him another two hours to clean the entire temple; he hadn't had a chance to clean it in a while and it was starting to show. Harry felt suitably upset about that; there really weren't enough hours in the day for him to keep up with everything.
If he hadn't made such good friends at Hogwarts, he might even contemplate not returning, just to give him some extra time.
When he was done with cleaning, he retreated to the back yard and tried to meditate.
Having worked the edge off, he found it much easier this time.
His mind drifted, released from earthly and mortal confines, touching upon the compendium of universal knowledge that were the Akashic Records.
A library of knowledge that could be abused easily, and were highly dangerous.
Some thoughts, some knowledge, was just too alien, and could drive a human insane from simply beholding it.
That was precisely the point why he was there today, putting Marduk's exercises to use and attempting to filter, for the lack of a better word, the knowledge that it held.
There was just so much of it.
His mind drifted further, attempting to shift its perception in an effort to ignore what was dangerous and beholding only that which was not.
Suddenly, Harry's formless and shapeless mind became aware of other presences, other peoples accessing the Records, beings that were as formless and shapeless as he was – and yet, so very alien, so very different.
One of those minds touched his. It wasn't like the time that the Rayellian had taught him Runes; as different as the Rayellian was, it conformed to what Humans would call a 'humanoid' archetype, with eyes, lips, fingers, and hands. As alien as the Rayellian was, Harry could relate to it, even if only their body shapes were somewhat kind-of-sort-of similar.
This new mind, however, was very different, and Harry at once realized that this alien mind was one of those things that Marduk warned him were so alien, so different, that Humans could be driven insane from merely glimpsing their existence.
The alien mind touched Harry's again, emoting [curious-invitation] in an alien way that made Harry's disembodied mind blink.
Twice.
The emotion, he could understand. The completely incomprehensible way in which the alien had communicated it to him, however, was something that made his awareness freeze up.
The alien mind just sat there, seemingly with endless patience, as Harry sorted himself out. Finally, he had managed to find his way out of the utterly strange and alien way of communicating – it wasn't as if his mind had eyes or a mouth, after all, so he would need to discard physicality and simply focus on the concept rather than the method.
Sure, he could handle that. Or, maybe, he had been driven so far into insanity that he'd come out the other way in some way-too-sane way that would forever set him apart from Humanity.
Or maybe both.
At this time, however, he didn't care. He attempted to communicate back to his new conversation partner.
"Greetings." Returned no response. Neither did Greetings. Finally, he attempted to duplicate the alien's utterly different method of communications, dragged up the feeling of [Welcome-invitation-pleased] and attempted to send it to the alien mind.
[Pleased-welcome-invitation] the alien mind communicated back, a jumble of emotions that Harry attempted to figure out was either the alien being pleased at his welcome or pleased at him figuring out communication, greeting him welcome, and maybe… inviting… him… somewhere/place?
[Confused-unsure-questioning] was Harry's response.
[Amused-invitation-requesting-acceptance] was the alien answer, making Harry realize that this strange being was asking him to accept something. Maybe that invitation to… do… something? Or go somewhere?
Harry had never backed down from anything, and he was curious about the new friend he'd made, even if he could hardly speak to… him? Her? It?
[Confused-acceptance] Harry managed.
[Pleased] was his answer, and the next moment, the strange alien mind touched Harry's again, and seemed to… do… something?
The mental plane that housed the Akashic Records fell away, and Harry found his mind, his consciousness, stuffed into a body that was so utterly alien that he could do nothing but panic.
So panic, he did.
The environment was so totally, incomprehensibly, alien. His new body was even more so.
If his earlier example of insanity was anything to go by, this new sensation was worse. Much, much worse. His human mind, stuffed into a body that shared none of the characteristics of a human body, broke, shattered, picked up the pieces of itself and tried to rebuild itself into something that was anywhere near sane.
He drew a breath, only to realize that drawing in breath caused his gas-bag to inflate… meaning his buoyancy went down and thus causing his entire body to float down.
What the…
His eyes, if he could call them such, didn't register in the visual spectrum as he was used to; the alien atmosphere was filled with gasses of different colors. Instead, he seemed to register the infrared and ultraviolet more than the regular visual spectrum, allowing him to see through the clouds.
He let out his breath, deflating his gas-bag, achieving higher buoyancy in this strange atmosphere and thus causing him to float up.
Another… being? Yes, 'being' fit the word. Another being floated into range of his visual receptors; it looks a bit like a jellyfish crossed with a hot-air balloon.
[Welcome-greeting] the other alien creature communicated; optically, through the use of various colors that glowed differently along its body, in the infrared and ultraviolet. How he knew what those strange signals meant, he had no idea.
[Amused] the other creature communicated, followed by an emotion that Harry could not place, one he had no reference for, but one that somehow filled him with awe.
The other being must have meant the Akashic Records.
That made sense. He had traversed untold distances to incorporate on this strange alien world, and he must be drawing information from the Akashic Records to fill in the gaps.
Suddenly, he realized that these beings lived in the atmosphere of a gas giant, something akin to Jupiter; they lived their lives, floating in the upper atmosphere of the gas giant, using its gasses to regulate their altitude while simultaneously existing by living off the reactions induced by its chemical soup.
He floated closer to the other being. [Wonder-impressed] Harry communicated, his lack of experience with this novel form of speech making him feel out the emotions. [Question-location] he added, wondering if the alien being would understand him asking where they were.
[Pleased] the other being communicated, followed by an emotion that made Harry feel way-too-sane in an utterly alien way. Apparently, the other was happy he wasn't nuts. Harry didn't know whether these being understood insanity at all, because he definitely felt insane at this point.
He tried to lift a hand, only to realize this body didn't come with hands, and instead moved a fin of some sort, causing him to stumble ass-over-end.
[Amusement] the other being communicated in way that was definitely laughter.
[Not-amused] Harry retorted, causing the other being to emote [Amusement] even harder. Harry [sulked] at the creature, while waiting for it to stop laughing at him.
When it finally did, it floated closer. [Impressed-sturdy] the being told him, seemingly impressed by Harry's mind's resilience. Once more, Harry wasn't sure whether the alien was sarcastic or not. It definitely didn't feel sarcastic, so that was something.
It pivoted on its axis, as if demonstrating the environment. Through the colored bio-luminescence it seemed to communicate not just emotions but complex concepts that made Harry feel like a first-grader listening to Athena explain some arcane bit of quantum mechanics.
He managed to communicate apology and a request for slower repetition. His guide, emoting [understanding], repeated its explanation.
This was a cloud of [grazing-reacting] gas, apparently one of their primary food-sources. It reacted quickly with [grazing-cold] gas as well as [grazing-soft] gas, either of which were good secondary food-sources needed to cause the chemical reaction that fueled their bodies.
Ignoring the lost-in-translation names of the gasses, Harry floated closed to his guide. He was getting the hang of this floating trick; breathing in and breathing out regulated altitude. His legs were in fact rear-fins he could use for forward and backward motion. His hands were forward-fins used for left/right movement, as well as tilting action.
It wasn't so hard.
At least, not after Harry gave upon arms, legs, and even lungs. The very fact that these aliens 'breathed' only to change altitude was something to get used to.
And once he did, he no longer bopped up and down like a drunk alien balloon-jellyfish and only rose and fell when he felt like it, not when his human impulses told him that he needed to breathe or suffocate.
The other alien emoted more [amusement] as well as [support-well-done]. It turned, and emoted [invitation].
Harry followed, bopping left and right a bit more than was probably accepted among these aliens, but his guide didn't seem to care.
More flashing lights, more rapid-fire communication of concepts Harry struggled to follow, ending in Harry once more asking for a slow repetition.
His alien guide emoted [embarrassment-self], before repeating its explanation in a slower, more methodical fashion.
Suddenly, the cloud of gas they had been in gave way to one that was, for all intents and purposes, see-through in the infrared spectrum. Harry stopped and floated as he gazed upon a sight he never would have imagined.
Millions – tens of millions – maybe even more – of the aliens. Floating in huge clouds, like gigantic flocks of birds, following what appeared to be an air-current.
His guide explained that this was a giant air-current, flowing in a huge oval shape, and that these beings used it as a massive conveyor. At any one time, there were tens, if not hundreds, of billions of the creatures making use of it.
It was a storm with a surface area the size of Earth, and it rotated at hundreds upon hundreds of kilometers an hour, faster than any storm on Earth could ever get.
And even with its massive size, it was nothing compared to the size of the gas giant.
Harry turned to look at his guide, his human mind suddenly filling in details, things that he hadn't realized up until now.
These beings, these balloon-jellyfish, had no arms, no weapons, no armor, no protection of any kind. They were physically defenseless, and yet they swarmed across this gas-giant.
Hundreds of hours of Athena's personal tutoring egged him on, forcing him to think, to reason, to understand.
And understand, he did. When resources were this vast, this virtually unlimited, there was no need for competition. Or so he thought… and he wanted to be sure of his conclusions.
[Food-being-question] Harry asked.
His guide communicated easily. [Grazing-gas] it told him, as if pointing out the gas they had just come from.
Harry felt a tad frustrated at his lack of communication skills, and was dismayed when he realized that this alien body he was in was actually emoting [frustration].
His guide didn't seem to mind. [Calm-think-repeat], it suggested.
[Prey-Predator-Question] Harry tried next.
His alien guide seemed baffled. [Question-prey] it asked, evidently not having the concept of prey or predator.
Well, that answered that question. Harry tried to tell his guide that it was something human, but he wasn't sure he succeeded. The alien being emoted some [curiosity-amusement], before turning and indicating Harry should follow. [Fun] it told him.
Harry could do with some fun.
The two joined the immense flock of other balloon-jellyfish creatures using the immense storm as personal transport, letting the high-velocity winds carry them forward.
His guide slowly floated through the throng of others, carefully aiming for the inward track of the storm. Harry, curious, followed.
The closer they came to the inner center of the storm, the faster they went. The throngs of other aliens started dispersing at this track around the storm, obviously preferring slower wind speeds.
His guide emoted more [fun], and Harry started to realize why. Just like Humans, some of the balloon-jellyfish seemed to have a thrill seeking side, and just like Humans, some balloon-jellyfish seemed to relish racing.
The winds picked up, and Harry felt himself pushed forward at a speed that was no longer comfortable.
Instead, it was exhilarating. The winds flowed fast and furious, pushing them forward and making them tilt with the centrifugal force of it.
[Fun!] his guide emoted loudly.
[Whee!] Harry emoted back in a very human-like way. His guide emoted something that Harry didn't catch, but obviously fellow thrillseekers found each other, even across racial boundaries.
Very big racial boundaries.
They raced along the storm for some time, before his guide safely maneuvered them away. For a moment Harry felt disappointed, only to them realize that his fragile balloon-jellyfish body was feeling pain from the stress the winds had put on it.
[Careful-fun] his guide told him, which Harry completely agreed with. The bodies of these aliens were nothing but gas and gossamer, containing inner organs designed to be light, not sturdy.
Harry didn't want to contemplate how this alien ecosystem worked, nor how these beings developed self-awareness. He wasn't a biologist, astro-, exo-, or otherwise, and would happily leave that particular headache to others.
He also promised himself he'd never tell Miss Athena about this, as the Goddess of Wisdom would no doubt be disappointed in his lack of intelligence in figuring it out, or his lack of curiosity in asking his guide about it.
The guide in question carefully navigated Harry back through the throngs of other aliens, and Harry finally started to get the concept of three-dimensional navigation. As a Human, his brain has developed innately to work in two dimensions, and these aliens' ability to move in three had been… disorienting… to say the least.
Back out the other side, his guide showed him another kind of [grazing-gas], but Harry figured it was something akin to 'it was on the way', as his guide didn't stop and simply kept going. Curious, Harry followed.
Soon, they emerged from an inert cloud of some kind of gas that these aliens totally ignored, to emerge in a clearer section of the atmosphere.
Harry could, through the murky clouds of gas and dust, make out a large moon that hung in the sky.
[Very-Impressed] Harry emoted – this alien moon hung low in the sky, closer than earth's moon was, and he could see some kind of sea, dotted by some kind of land. At least, that's what he thought he saw, as the colors of the moon were completely off compared to Earth.
[That's because the atmosphere is colored differently, plus you're looking through infrared en ultraviolet], a new balloon-jellyfish communicated.
Harry felt the need to blink, despite his alien body not having eyelids. He probably did the alien equivalent of gaping as he stared at the newcomer, surprised at how easily he understood him. Especially given the amount of problems he'd had communicating with his guide.
[Amusement] the new alien emoted. [Don't you recognize me?]
What a minute…
[Marduk]? Harry asked, somehow trying to convey a spoken name through bio-luminescence.
[Agreement] Marduk emoted. [How are you, my foolish young student?]
[well-sensation] Harry emoted back, before adding [embarrassment].
[I did tell you that the Records were dangerous] Marduk chided. [And yet, I find you body-sharing with a very different kind of practitioner.]
[I was just doing the exercise you gave me] Harry protested. [And this person invited me.]
[So you being you, saw no issue in it and accepted] Marduk replied. [I am glad you are still sane, my foolish young student.] Before waiting for a reply, Marduk turned to the patiently waiting guide, and started emoting the alien way.
Harry couldn't make sense of it, and wondered where and when Marduk had picked up this alien language, and where and how he'd become so proficient in it.
Then again, he was Marduk, so that probably answered the question in itself.
[Amusement-gratitude-indentification-student] Marduk told the guide, slowing down his emoting in an obvious way to allow Harry to catch up, while thanking the guide for taking care of Harry.
[Unnecessary-pleasure] the guide replied in similar fashion, making Harry wish he could smile. Apparently his alien guide had enjoyed showing him around.
The two descended back into rapid-emoting and Harry felt lost once more.
[Come along, we should head back. I was concerned when I felt your spirit ascend the Realm of Akasha. It took me a while to find you] Marduk told him.
[Alright] Harry replied, feeling sad that his fun trip was over. He turned to his guide. [Gratitude-invitation] he emoted to the alien being, hoping to convey both his gratitude and willingness to reciprocate.
[Fun-student] his alien guide replied, showing Harry just how much the being slowed himself down for his benefit, now that he'd seen the communication between it and Marduk. [Good-Winds.]
That was obviously some kind of greeting or farewell, so Harry returned it. [Good-Winds]
The next moment, The alien gas giant's atmosphere felt away and Harry gasped a deep breath.
A breath into his lungs.
His human lungs.
He opened his eyes. Human eyes. That had eyelids. And didn't see infrared or ultraviolet.
As he blinked his eyes open, he stared right at Marduk's amused face. "Well, since it seems you survived yet another perilous adventure intact and unscathed, I should be going," his teacher said, standing up. "Try not to destroy your own sanity," he joked. "You'll make a pretty decent mage in another decade or two, it'd be a hassle to find someone else to teach. Even if you turn my hair gray."
"Is your hair even capable of turning gray?" Harry asked, before wondering where his brain-to-mouth filter had gone.
Marduk laughed. "I'm Marduk," he said. "My hair is whatever color I say it is. Have a good evening, my young student. Congratulations on remaining sane."
"Thanks?" Harry asked, gaping at the empty air where Marduk had been moments earlier.
"Harry?" Hestia asked, stepping into the backyard of Helios' temple. "Were you talking to someone?"
Harry grinned. This was definitely a fun little adventure to tell Hestia about, Marduk's panicking notwithstanding.