Harry Potter, Squatter
By Enterprise1701_d
Chapter 70
Uncle Ferdinand blinked once more, then removed the flute from his lips. He looked rather dazed, which wasn't a huge surprise considering he had been a statue for quite a few years.
"Unc!" Grover shouted, grapple-hugging Uncle Ferdinand with zero restraint.
"Grove?" Ferdinand asked, still sounding a bit dazed, but hugging his nephew back. "You grew up quick! What'd they feed you?"
"It's been years, Unc," Grover said. "Medusa-"
"Medusa!" Ferdinand shouted. "We have to run! Quick!"
"No need, he killed her," Grover said, pointing at Harry. "And he had some kind of potion that can un-petrify people."
"Nice to meet you, Mister Ferdinand," Harry said politely, sticking his hand out. "We weren't sure if the potion would work, though, so Grover volunteered you. I hope you don't mind. If it had failed badly, it could have killed you."
Ferdinand took the hand and shook it heartily. "People that rescue me get to call me by name. Or just 'Ferd', that works, too. And no, I don't mind. Giving my life to save others? Good way to go, I say."
Grover puffed out his chest, as if saying 'see? Is he great or what?'
"I'm glad to hear it," Harry said. "I'm Harry Potter, Son of Tyche. And that's Percy Jackson, Son of Poseidon, and Annabeth Chase, Daughter of Athena."
"Delighted to meet you all," Uncle Ferdinand said happily as he shook hands. When he was done, he looked back at Harry. "So… you killed Medusa?"
"She was a monster," Harry said, refusing to feel guilty, even if part of him did.
"That she was," Ferdinand agreed, solemnly looking at the many, many statues that were standing outside the warehouse. "That she was."
"Luckily I have Mandrake Draught to un-petrify people," Harry added. "Unfortunately, I only have seven doses left."
Ferdinand's face fell further. "That's a hard choice to make," he commiserated.
Harry nodded, thinking to come up with a way to stretch seven doses to hundreds of statues. It wasn't as if he could simply order more Mandrake Draught; the mandrakes wouldn't go into season again until next year.
While Harry thought, Ferdinand and Grover drifted away, catching up. At the same time, Percy had drawn Annabeth's attention and the two demigods had gone back inside. Apparently, none of them wanted anything to do with the choice of who to save.
Harry looked at the statues, and pulled another dose of Mandrake Draught out of his Hammerspace pocket. Going back inside, his mind still whirling, he saw Annabeth and Percy doing something behind the counter of 'Aunty Em's' Garden Gnome Emporium.
Ignoring the two demigods, Harry drifted back to the statue of the little girl in the Easter dress. To him, this poor innocent girl symbolized the monstrous nature of Medusa. Arachne had killed, yes, but only those that came to kill her, which made it self-defense in Harry's mind. Medusa had simply rampaged.
Still eyeing the Mandrake Draught in his hand, he realized he needed help. Help of a kind that he wasn't sure he could find in the mortal world. Nor the magical world, really. Not unless he was willing to wait a year for new Mandrake Draught.
He put the dose in the Easter basket of the little girl's statue, and folded his hands. Time to call in the big guns.
Mister Apollo? It's Harry. I'm not sure if you can hear me, but I really need your help right now.
Harry felt a curious sensation akin to someone waking up and stretching. He blinked. Of course, the sun was down, so Apollo would have been asleep! Sorry to wake you up, Mister Apollo, Harry apologized.
The sensation seemed to be dismissive, then questioning.
I killed Medusa, Harry explained to the Sun God's emotive sensation. And I found a way to save her victims…
The sensation suddenly felt wide-awake, and Harry had the uncomfortable feeling that the God of Healing was rummaging through his recent past. Within moments, Apollo's presence felt elated.
I only have seven doses left; I had eight, but we experimented on Grover's Uncle Ferdinand first, to make sure it would work. It did, but now I only have seven doses, but there are hundreds of victims and I can't get any more Mandrake Draught because mandrakes are magical and only mature around April-May, no matter how they're raised and now-
Harry's rambling was cut off by Apollo's amused presence, which emoted that it got the point. It also felt like Apollo was about to help out, when suddenly it seemed to realize something.
We're on a quest, and you can't interfere on a quest, Harry realized at the same time as the Sun God. Apollo's presence agreed.
But then, Apollo felt… crafty. His presence told Harry to wait, as someone was going to stumble across them.
Harry grinned, always willing to break rules that annoyed him. He made sure to thank Apollo for his assistance, when the Sun God's presence felt like it winked at him, and emoted what assistance?
The Son of Tyche chuckled and agreed.
Now reasonably assured that some form of help would be coming along, Harry went to look for Percy and Annabeth.
He found them at the cash register, where Annabeth was glaring at Percy. "They're going to think you're impertinent."
"That's because I am impertinent," Percy replied, his arms crossed and looking self-satisfied.
Harry grinned, he liked Percy. "What happened?" he asked.
Percy pointed at Annabeth. Annabeth point at Percy.
"Her mom-" Percy began.
"His father-" Annabeth said, at the same time.
They both stopped at the same time, too. "Arguing over who created Medusa?" Harry asked with a chuckle. "Personally, I try not to think about what the gods did back in ancient times."
Both demigods didn't seem to appreciate that particular kind of wisdom and said, simultaneously, "But-!"
Harry snickered. "I heard something about impertinence?" he asked, trying to diffuse the situation.
"He sent Medusa's head to the gods on Mount Olympus using Hermes Express!" Annabeth tattled immediately.
Harry laughed. "I hope you put Mister Zeus' name on it," he said.
"No, Just the gods in general," Percy replied, not at all guilty. "First we got attacked on the bus, then the bus gets blasted off the road, then Medusa pops up. I've had it, this way we'll never make it to LA."
"Oh? Are we going to Hollywood?" Harry asked, subtly trying to remind them that he had no idea where the quest was headed.
Percy and Annabeth shifted awkwardly, the mood completely turning around. "The entrance to the Underworld is there," Annabeth said. "Lord Hades has the Lightning Bolt and we need to retrieve it. Before the Summer Solstice."
Harry narrowed his eyes. "You got that from that prophecy? It only said to go west, and said nothing about the Underworld. Why blame Mister Hades? He's a nice guy, I don't think he'd do this."
"Chiron said it," Percy said, looking confused at Harry. "You know Hades?"
"Sure, he's a nice guy," Harry repeated with a nod. "He's got his hangups, like most gods do, but he's generally not that bad. And I don't like the fact that Chiron simply blamed him without proof. That's not very nice of him."
The two demigods looked at each other, both equally unsure of what to say or do next.
"Anyway," Harry said, "someone's coming to help with Medusa's victims. How about I make some food in the mean time? I recall everyone being hungry."
"Great!" Percy said, taking the offered way out and running with it. Annabeth nodded softly as well. "Can you cook?" the son of Poseidon asked.
"I'm not bad," Harry replied, honestly. Granted, he got plenty of positive feedback on his food, but it wasn't worth of being on the same list as Hestia's cooking skills, he thought.
"He's more than just 'not bad'," Annabeth reassured the suddenly apprehensive Percy, recalling the food she ate during the sleepover a couple of years ago, and the cookies and other treats he sometimes brought to camp. "Even Mister D likes Harry's cooking, and he doesn't like anything or anybody."
"He's funny," Harry said with a snicker as the trio made its way to the dining area at the back of the warehouse. "Hey, Grover! Ferd! Would you like some food? I'm cooking!"
"Never turn down a free meal, I say!" Uncle Ferdinand answered happily, somehow beating everyone to the dining area despite having to go further.
Harry laughed as he peeled off toward the kitchen area. 'Hunger is the best sauce' he once heard Hestia say, and judging from his reaction, Uncle Ferdinand was pretty hungry.
He rummaged through the cabinets and the refrigerator to see what he had to work with, and came back disappointed. The only thing he could find were the fatty, greasy burgers – there was no way he was going to feed those to his friends.
Not to mention the fact that Satyrs are vegetarians, and like any good chef Harry would cater to the people he would be feeding.
Looks like it was time to conjure some foodstuffs and get cooking. He could conjure complete meals, but those wouldn't be as good as conjuring the elements and cooking the meal himself.
It took barely ten minutes before he left the kitchen, carrying two plates while three more plates obediently floated behind him.
"Here you go," Harry said as he reached the table the two Satyrs and the two demigods had claimed for themselves. "For our vegetarian Satyrs," he announced before putting a plate down, "puréed nut spread, with a grape relish reduction, coupled with a brioche bun. Grilled to perfection."
The two satyrs looked at him as if he were the Headless Horseman until he put the plates down.
"Bla-ha-ha," Grover bleated. "That's a grilled peanut butter and jelly sandwich!"
Ferdinand didn't bother saying anything and charged the food like a dying man. Then again, he'd been frozen as a statue for many years so Harry could forgive him for gorging.
"And for us, bacon and eggs," Harry said as he floated two plates down for Annabeth and Percy while claiming the last for himself.
Percy looked like he'd rather have the same as Grover and Ferdinand, until he tasted his omelet.
The next moment, he was mimicking Ferdinand's table manners. Harry grinned; he wasn't about to pull a Hestia and remind people of their manners. Instead he simply enjoyed the fact that people liked his food.
"What's in this!?" Annabeth asked as her omelet and bacon were disappearing quicker than normally polite. "I've never had an omelet taste like this!"
"M-hm!" Percy agreed, chewing a mouth full of eggs and pork.
"It was a tough day so I wanted to make something decent," Harry said as he ate his second dinner. "Hestia once commented that her domain allowed for the conjuration of food, any food. With her boon, I can basically do the same, so I did some experimenting."
"What kind of experimenting?" Annabeth asked, putting her knife and fork down on a completely empty plate. Percy, who had been stuffing his face, looked at said empty plate with surprise, considering he still had some food left. How had she beaten him?
"Hestia said that dodo eggs were delicious," the Son of Tyche stated. "So I-"
"Wait!" Annabeth interrupted him. "These are dodo-egg omelets?"
Ferdinand and Grover, who had finished their grilled sandwiches, stared at the last remaining bit of omelet on Percy's plate. The Son of Poseidon pulled his plate closer and polished it off, before anyone could steal the last bite.
"It's delicious," Percy stated.
"And what's the bacon made from?" Annabeth asked. "Wooly mammoth?"
Harry snickered. "Don't be silly, Annabeth. Wooly mammoths are like elephants, they're basically giant beef, not pork. No, that's just plain old wild boar bacon."
"Delicious, too," Percy said with a nod.
"Too bad they're only good for food," Harry said. "Hestia can conjure food, not animals, so the eggs are infertile. You'd need the God of the Wild to conjure viable animals that can reproduce and stuff."
Ferdinand and Grover looked mournful. "I'll find him one day," Ferdinand vowed.
"When this quest is over, and I get my searcher's license, I'm beating you to the punch, Unc," Grover said, teasingly.
"You're on, Grove," Ferdinand accepted the challenge with a grin.
"Anyone want seconds?" Harry offered as he started stacking the dirty dishes.
Two satyrs and two demigods fell over each other in their enthusiasm. Heck yeah, they wanted seconds!
"Be right back," Harry said with a smile, disappearing back into the kitchen. True to his word, he was back within ten minutes, with freshly grilled peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and more dodo-egg omelets with wild boar bacon bits.
The eating was just as enthusiastic as the first time, only with more manners now that everyone's immediate hunger had been sated.
"So we're going to the Underworld?" Harry asked when they all leaned back, momentarily sated, turning the conversation back around.
"That's what Chiron said," Percy confirmed with a nod.
"Alright," Harry said with an audible shrug to his voice. "Someone's going to be dropping by to help with Medusa's victims, and then I'll see if Mister Hades is in."
Uncle Ferdinand gaped at Harry, while Grover, Annabeth, and Percy blinked. "Just like that?" Annabeth asked.
"Sure," he answered. "I've done it before. And if he's not in, or not accepting visitors, we'll just see Mel. She can probably get us to the front door and we can knock like polite demigods."
"Who's Mel?" Percy asked, appearing just as out of the loop as Grover while Annabeth paled.
"Melinoe is the Goddess of Ghosts. I freed her from her cave some time back, and she's opened a boutique hotel in the Rockies. If we fire-travel there, we can spend the night and I'm sure she'll help us to the front door of the Underworld," Harry said, as if it were no big deal.
Ferdinand chortled at the looks the comment caused. "Refresh my mind, wasn't that one of the scariest minor goddesses around?" he asked Harry.
"Used to be, yeah. And, I guess, if you squint and tilt your head, she still is. She's not used to mortals so she's not really aware how fragile we are. But honestly, she's pretty nice once you get to know her, now that she's no longer locked up in a cave by Mister Hades."
"The same Lord Hades you said is a nice guy?" Annabeth asked, as if trying to trap him.
"We all make mistakes, and Mister Hades admitted his," Harry waved it off. "He apologized to Mel and they're rebuilding their relationship now, so all's good in my book."
"Right," Percy said, despite sounding as if everything wasn't right. He turned to Annabeth, and asked, "Why didn't we take him along from the start again? We could have done that fire-travel thing straight from camp."
Annabeth looked like she'd swallowed a lemon. Harry's eyebrows rose at the question, because he definitely wanted the answer to it, as well.
"Because he-" Annabeth started, before realizing that he was right there and it was rather impolite to talk about someone as if they weren't there. "Because you weren't at camp," she told Harry.
"You could have talked to Hestia, she always has an avatar tending the fire at camp," he said, reasonably.
Annabeth looked like she'd rather not answer. "Is it that bad?" Harry asked, softly. "I thought we were friends."
The Daughter of Athena looked like he'd slapped her in the face with a wet mop, more stunned than angry or hurt. "We are!" she said, raising her voice emphatically. "It's just… well… you know."
Harry looked as confused as he felt and he glanced at Percy to see if he had any better idea what she was on about.
No, the Son of Poseidon looked just as lost. "Ehm… No?" Harry offered.
Annabeth's shoulder dropped. "You kind of attract trouble sometimes," she whispered.
Percy snorted. "We found all three furies on a bus. We have no room to talk," he said, causing the Daughter of Athena to grace him with a smile with how he automatically used 'we'.
Harry grinned. "And? I think there's more," he said, suddenly getting an insight from somewhere.
Annabeth pouted. Annabeth sulked. Annabeth twitched. And in, the end, Annabeth muttered, "And I wanted to prove I can do quests on my own."
That was something Harry could understand. "I can understand that," he told her honestly. "I've thought about it myself." He sighed, not really sure what to say. "Still, this is a dangerous quest and if Mister Zeus doesn't get his toy back, we're all in big trouble."
"Wait, what?" Ferdinand demanded. Grover leaned in to fill his Uncle in on the recent events while the demigods talked.
Annabeth pursed her lips, her Fatal Flaw of Hubris warring with her common sense. In the end, however, she sighed and nodded. "Sorry, Harry," she whispered.
Harry grinned, happy to get to the end of things, and happy there was an apology. "Then all's forgiven," he answered, because that's what Hestia routinely said when he did something stupid and had to apologize.
Truthfully, he was happy that things were resolved. It solidified in him the idea that all the world's problems could be solved if only the affected parties would come together around the dining table, share a good home-cooked meal, and talk about things.
Standing up, he asked, "Would anyone care for some fruit or dessert?"
The question whether anyone wanted fruit or dessert would be lost to the annals of history as someone knocked politely on the door of the warehouse. Everyone got up to stare at it; this was still Medusa's lair, after all.
The next moment, the door was pushed open. The person who entered was male, had a kind look on his face, a salt-and-pepper beard, and was wearing a white doctor's coat and a stethoscope around his neck. In his right hand, he carried a large staff around which a large green python was curled.
Harry recognized him immediately – he was, after all, Athena's favorite student, and the Goddess of Wisdom made sure to tell all about him.
"Mister Asclepius!" Harry said, excitedly, rushing over to greet their new guest.
The man grinned. "I was taking a completely random drive and pulled over on a mere whim," he said, chuckling. "And then I noticed all the poor unfortunate victims of Medusa."
Obviously, Apollo had sent his son and told him to pretend it was just a coincidence. Harry nodded, playing along. "I have these potions," he said, holding out a dose of Mandrake Draught. "Unfortunately, I only have seven more doses, and, well…" he made a helpless gesture to the warehouse filled with statues.
The God of Medicine nodded to show he understood, before looking at the potions bottle.
He frowned slightly. "I don't know that potion," he stated, on a tone that showed perfectly that such a thing did not happen to him often. "What it is?"
"Mandrake Draught," Harry explained, handing the bottle over. "It a medication from the magical world."
"That would explain it," Asclepius said. "They are always hoarding medicines."
"Magical plants are rather limited," Harry said. "Like the mandrakes for that potion, they only mature around April-May. It's a magic thing."
Asclepius nodded, while still studying the potion. He had pulled the stopper and was now smelling it. "It smells absolutely poisonous," he reported with a nod. "You say it works?"
Harry motioned to Uncle Ferdinand. "Until half an hour ago, Uncle Ferdinand was one of the victims," he explained, not realizing he'd called the satyr the same way Grover did.
"Hah! Got me another nephew!" Ferdinand said with a grin.
Harry looked at him, realized what had happened, and grinned back. "You can never have too many family members, I say."
"Damn true," Ferdinand agreed with a sharp nod.
Asclepius ignored the byplay and sniffed the potion again. "How do you administer it? As they're statues, I can only see it used as an ointment of sorts, but this bottle does not contain enough to cover the entire statue."
"It needs to be drunk," Harry said. "But, as petrified victims can't drink, not even magically petrified ones, there's a nifty spell that accompanies it to spell the contents of the bottle into the stomach of the victim. It starts working from there."
"These victims have their stomach petrified too. That does not make sense," Asclepius muttered, staring at a statue.
"Well, I do have seven doses, so I can demonstrate with one," Harry said.
"We can always make more," Asclepius waved the concern off. "Even without ingredients. It's not as if this is a deity-level medicine that can reverse death." He shuddered at something.
Harry winced, remembering the story of how Asclepius has cured death using a medicine called The Physician's Cure. Zeus had killed him for it, causing Apollo to go on a rampage, ending with a whole mess of things, before things got put alright by Apollo being punished and Asclepius being made the God of Medicine and forbidden from making that cure ever again.
The Son of Tyche gave Asclepius a nod that was both support and agreement, and walked over to the little girl's statue. "I feel so bad for her," he whispered.
Asclepius put a hand on the young demigod's shoulder. "A good physician feels for their patients," he advised. "Go ahead, young man."
Harry spelled the contents of the bottle he'd put in the little girl's easter basket into her stomach.
She slowly blinked.
"Remarkable," Asclepius said, looking intently at the statue as it became a little girl again. "Most remarkable. You have more doses you say?"
"Six more, now. Including the one you're still holding," Harry explained as the statue slowly regained movement.
"Spike, if you would?" the God of Medicine asked, causing the snake on his staff to start moving. Harry blinked, having thought the snake to be an incredibly realistic fake.
Your name is Spike? Harry asked in parseltongue. You're magnificent!
Spike the snake looked at Harry for a moment, then answered, And you carry the protection of the Feathered Serpent himself. You're quite something yourself.
Harry snickered. Thank you.
Asclepius looked happy. "A snake-speaker, how exciting," the God of Medicine said. "It is so rare to see someone give Spike proper regards. But work first – Spike, if you will?"
The snake gobbled up the potion's bottle, and seemed to think for a few moments, before spitting it back out. And a copy. And another copy.
"There we go," Asclepius said. "Now, I have work to do, and I believe this little one will need to be returned to her parents." He smiled widely. "I so rarely get to interact with my patients, and today I will get to heal hundreds of them. It will be a good day. Or more than one, I should say. I will be quite busy for a while." He didn't sound like he minded, however. It sounded more like he was looking forward to it.
Harry took the implied dismissal and ran with it. He nodded gratefully. "Thank you for the help, Mister Asclepius. Spike."
"Thank you for this opportunity, young demigod," Asclepius said, already busy with the next statue while the little girl was 'thawing'.
She suddenly started screaming. And screaming. And screaming.
"Be calm, young one. Go to sleep," Asclepius said gently, putting a hand on her head. The girl stopped screaming, her eyes closed, and she slumped over; the God of Medicine caught her and lowered her gently to a cot that appeared out of thin air.
"Will she be alright?" Harry asked, suddenly realizing that un-petrifying people that had been statues for who knew how long could be a problem.
"A bit of mental trauma is to be expected," Asclepius replied. "But it is nothing I can not handle."
"How about the amount of time they spent as a statue?" Harry asked.
Asclepius smiled, apparently pleased that someone was willing to learn and ask questions. "It isn't the first time I had to handle a Rip Van Winkle situation," he said. "It happens enough I even have protocols for it. A bit of mental adjustment and finding remaining relatives, should they exist, usually do the trick."
"Oh," Harry answered, thinking that over, before realizing that he probably didn't want to think it over too deeply. Time shenanigans gave him a headache, he remembered that particular lesson after building his Hammerspace pocket and finding an engagement ring box.
"Cool," he said instead of going down that particular rabbit hole again.
Asclepius grinned, as if knowing exactly what Harry was thinking, then went back to work.
Seeing that the god was busy, Harry simply said his goodbyes and turned to the group. "So, are we ready to visit the Underworld?"
"Please don't say that so cheerfully," Annabeth pleaded.
"Why? It's an awesome place," Harry protested cluelessly. "Well, unless you're a bad person who died, that is. Then you're getting your just rewards."
Percy and Annabeth just looked at each other, while Grover shivered in the background. Ferdinand bleated a laugh. "I'll stick around here and help out Lord Asclepius. It looks like he'll need it. You youngsters go about your quest."
"Sure, Ferd," Harry said with a grin. "Come on, guys, let's go find a fireplace. Or build a bonfire."
Percy snorted a laugh. "Pillage, then burn?" he asked, jiggling the small bag with the few drachmas the demigods had liberated from Medusa's till.
"Better than the other way around," Harry agreed with a nod, remembering that particular lesson from one of his stays on Asgard.
Percy snorted another laugh. Annabeth sighed. "Boys," she muttered.
"Yup," Harry confirmed eagerly. "Come on, let's see if we can find a place to build a fire so I can get us to the underworld."
Thankfully, there was a fireplace in the back of the warehouse, where Medusa had set up a small apartment for herself to live in. It took Harry all of ten seconds to build a fire using the firewood available.
"Alright, he we go," Harry said, stretching his hand out toward the fire and attempting to contact the same fire in the Underworld he had once traveled to.
He could not find it.
He shrugged, having expected that, and tried to reach a different fire. There seemed to be plenty, but when he connected to one, it started 'ringing' the same way the Floo at the Rookery would when he attempted to contact Luna.
The only difference was that nobody answered. At all.
After a good ten minutes, Harry huffed in frustration. "Nobody's answering, no matter which fire I try," he explained. "I think Mister Hades is busy. I mean, him being Lord of the Underworld, he has a lot of work tending to the deceased and all that."
"I knew it was too easy," Annabeth said.
"Let's try Mel," Harry said, stretching out his hand again and this time reaching for the Overlook Hotel.
The fire turned green almost immediately. "There we go," the Son of Tyche said happily. "Let's go, guys."
Three demigods and one satyr stumbled out of the fire, straight into the lobby of a nice-looking hotel. Their ears popped with the change in air-pressure; which wasn't a surprise considering the mountains that featured prominently in the huge windows on the other side of the lobby.
The people in the lobby paid no attention to the quartet stumbling out of the fire. Immediately Harry recognized the power infused into the place by its godly owner.
Already, the quartet could see a man tumbling out of the elevator, dragging a suitcase, looking pale, sweaty, and very much like he'd been crying.
"Checkout, please," he managed to the Goddess of Ghosts working the front desk, somehow without letting his voice warble. Too much, anyway. Mel had aged herself a bit, now looking mid-to-late twenties, and was wearing a rather fetching Victorian-era business suit that was originally designed for men but looked quite attractive on her regardless.
"Already checking out, Mister Johansen? I have you down for another week," Mel said, somehow keeping a straight face.
"Yes. I give up," the man conceded. "Please and thank you."
"Alright," Mel said, working the computer. Mister Johansen looked over at the quartet, before he eyes slowly drifted up toward the ceiling. Whatever the man was seeing, nobody else could see it, but it seemed to scare him immensely. "As we noted in our policy, I do have to credit you for the entire stay," Mel continued as if nothing was going on.
"Yes, yes, no problem," the unfortunate guest declared.
"Alright, Mister Johansen. I have you checked out now. I'm sorry that you had to cut your stay with us short. I hope you will consider us again for the future."
"Thank you, bye," Johansen managed, snatching his bag and almost-but-not-quite making a dead run for it.
"Was it something I said?" Mel asked herself, chortling.
"Hi Mel! Scaring the guests?" Harry asked, drawing attention to himself and their group.
"Harry!" the excited goddess shouted, somehow managing a jump around the front desk, two steps that crossed way more distance than any human could, and grabbing him into a hug. "You came to visit!"
Harry chuckled and hugged her back. "Good to see you, too, Mel," he said. "Although I'm on a bit of an errand."
"An errand?" Mel asked, putting him down and only now realizing that he had hangers-on. "And who're your friends?"
"Mel, these are Percy, Son of Poseidon, Annabeth, Daughter of Athena, and Grover Underwood, our satyr. Everyone, this is Melinoe, the Goddess of Ghosts."
"Nicetomeetcha," Mel greeted the three, hardly giving them a chance to greet her back before looking at Harry. "Considering you have a satyr with you, and with your other friends being demigods, I'm assuming this is an official errand?"
Harry nodded. "Yup. You've heard of Mister Zeus' toy being stolen? Guess who got the quest to get it back."
"I'm guessing… him," Mel said, pointing at Percy. "Considering I hadn't heard Lord Poseidon fathered a demigod."
"Yup," Harry said with a grin. "Fortunately, he has good friends who're willing to help him. So – scaring the customers?" he asked, once more. "Not a good way to get repeat business."
"Pfff, most guests love The Overlook. I can't keep a room open for more than a few hours before it's snapped up. That one particular individual was from a TV show and wanted to discredit my fine establishment. I'm afraid that I took exception," she ended snootily. "He definitely believes things now."
Harry chuckled, not feeling bad for the man. He'd challenged the Goddess of Ghosts on her own domain. There was no telling how much permanent and semi-permanent trauma Mel had inflicted for that insult, but as far as Harry was concerned, it was deserved. Nobody went after his friends. "That should teach him," Harry said with a grin.
"Yup," Mel said with a grin. "So, since you're here on business, do you need your room?"
Harry leaned in. "I know my room is probably… fun," he said with a snicker, causing Mel to grin, "but do you have anything for my friends that's… normal?"
"Normal?" Mel asked, looking at him. Intently looking at him.
The young demigod nodded. "They had to deal with your dad's Furies today, and after fighting them off, they got ambushed by Medusa. Well. I should say, Medusa tried to ambush them. I'm afraid I lost my patience with her."
Mel eyed him. "I see," she said with a nod, straightening out and looking at the others as if examining them for any missing limbs they may have been hiding from her. "After dealing with the Furies, of course your friends can have a boring suite," she finally said, materializing a key.
"Room 1041, it's a multi-bedroom suite," she told the trio, handing the key to Percy. "Harry has his own room," she explained. She handed a separate key to Harry, this one was heavy and made of bronze. There was an equally heavy bronze tag attached to it with a chain. "Room 217."
"Cool," Harry replied, grinning at the heavy key. It already felt like there was something crawling into his skin as he held it, and he was sure that room was going to be epic. "So…" he said, finally looking up from it.
"And now we come to the reason of your visit," Mel teased. "You said you were on a quest for Lord Zeus' stolen Lightning Bolt."
Harry nodded. "Chiron said your dad took it," he said, face showing exactly what he thought of that suggestion. "Unfortunately, they don't believe me when I tell them your dad's a nice guy," he added, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder at his three companions. "I tried fire-traveling to the Underworld, but I guess he either wasn't home, or he was too busy, so he didn't answer."
Mel nodded. "He hasn't been himself in the last six months. Truthfully, Father is not the thieving type, but there definitely appears to be something up with him. What exactly are you asking for?"
"A way to the front door, so we can knock like polite demigods," Harry said with a grin. Grover coughed from behind him, so he added, "and an equally polite satyr, of course."
Mel rubbed his chin. "Well, I'm not really supposed to help on quests, but I guess if all I'm doing is arrange for transportation, it's not really helping, is it?"
"Great! Thanks, Mel!" Harry said exuberantly, giving her a big hug. "Tomorrow? Because we can definitely use a good night's sleep."
"Of course," the Goddess of Ghosts said, pointing to the elevators. "Through there. I see you don't have any luggage, I'll have something brought up for the night."
"Thanks again, Mel," Harry replied, gratefully.
"Yes, thank you very much, Lady Melinoe," Annabeth said politely, getting agreeing nods from Percy and Grover.
"I hope we're not putting you out," Harry said, softly. "I mean, you said there was a waiting list for the hotel."
Melinoe chortled. "Harry, I'm a goddess," she said, emphatically. "Adding a level to the hotel when I need it is child's play. Honestly, this thing was built on top of a graveyard that was built on tope of a Native American burial yard, which is on top of a confluence. It's the closest things to a pure representation of my domain as possible. Of course, I haunted it. Think 'Christine' as a building."
"Awesome," Harry said, excitedly. "I can't wait to see it in action." From the corner of his eyes, he could see one of the shadows of a potted plant seemed to stretch into a grotesque shape. When he looked over, it was just a shadow. "I think it's already started," he added with a chuckle.
Percy and Annabeth, who, as demigods, possessed superior senses, also saw the shadow move and were now staring at the plant as if it were going to come alive and eat them.
"Don't worry, it's just playing," Melinoe assured them. "And, as I said, you have a boring suite, just as Harry asked."
Annabeth suddenly looked incredibly grateful at Harry. Percy's head whipped the other way when he saw something move in the garden. "Did that bush just move?"
"They do that sometimes," Mel said, waving it off. "I suppose always standing still gets boring so they find a new spot or pose."
Percy chuckled, reassured by the goddess' blasé attitude. "Standing still does sound boring," he agreed.
Harry grinned; he knew he was going to like Percy. "So… how's Christine?" He asked.
"I knew it," Melinoe said with an over-acting pout that somehow conveyed 'puppy-dog eyes' without actually being them. "You only love me for my car."
Harry snorted. "It's your fault for having an awesome car," he said with a grin.
"True, she is awesome, isn't she?" the Goddess of Ghosts preened. "She's fine, she's in the garage. I'll let you go up and get some sleep, and send some sleeping stuff and crap up for you guys. Breakfast starts at seven. We'll have a chat about how to get to the Underworld afterward."
"Thanks, Mel," Harry said, gratefully, before giving her another hug.
"Yes, thank you, Lady Melinoe," Annabeth repeated for the rest of them, getting agreeing nods from Percy and Grover.
They retreated to get some rest, Harry accompanying them to their room first before going down to his room. Not that he didn't trust Mel, it was just that he wanted to make sure that his friends' suite really was normal.
Alright, on second thought, maybe there were still some trust issues.
Whistling Tocata en Fuga – horrendously off-key, as usual – Harry approached room 217. Just as he brandished the heavy bronze key to the door, he became aware of movement.
The firehose attached to the wall next to the door seemed to slip loose from its clip and threateningly approached him; as if preparing to strangle him.
Harry grinned as it approached. The animated firehose floated closer, and hissed like an angry cobra.
He kept watching it, curious as to what it would do next. For a moment, the firehose bopped back and forth, hissing menacingly, but when it noticed that there was no reaction from him, it looked embarrassed.
If firehoses could blush, this one would be.
"Don't be," Harry reassured it. "It was very threatening and if I didn't know Mel had haunted the hotel, I would be trembling in my boots. It's a very convincing illusion."
The embarrassed firehose turned into an absolutely enraged one at the more notion that it was an illusion, and flung itself at Harry. The next moment, it really was strangling him.
For a moment, followed by the next moment, his mind panicked at the lack of air, before calm rationality reassured itself. It took only a second to bring Godslayer out, and one second more to cut the hose part from the firehose.
The entire animated firehose blurred and vanished, replaced by an intact firehose on the wall.
"Alright, so not an illusion, got it," Harry said with a snicker. "Good one. You actually had me panic for a few moments there when my air was cut off."
He opened the door with the key Mel had given him and stepped inside.
The door thumped shut behind him and Harry clicked on the lights.
Said electric lights provided just enough light to see and just not enough light to be comfortable. Long shadows stretched from each piece of furniture, causing uncomfortable patches of darkness that created grotesque shapes before his mind's eye.
Harry snickered. "Nice atmosphere," he complimented out loud. If the Overlook Hotel was like Christine, then it was sentient and sapient – and Harry wasn't going to be deliberately insulting.
He decided on a shower before bed, and entered the bathroom. Clicking the lights on, a pulse of adrenaline burnt icy-hot through the veins in his legs when the long-dead corpse of a beautiful woman jumped upright from the bathtub, screaming in an unholy fashion at him.
"Whoa! Jump-scare!" Harry commented, eyeing the corpse. The next moment, it jumped from the tub, wrapped him with her arms and legs and seemed intent on strangling the life from him.
"Whoa!" Harry managed before his air-supply was cut off once more. With the zombie's arms and legs grappling him, he couldn't easily brandish his sword; luckily his fingers worked fine to bring Godslayer back into being.
Unfortunately, having a sword in your hand meant nothing when you couldn't swing your arm because of some zombie grappling you.
"Oof!" Harry managed as he focused a burst of magic into the zombie's chest, flinging her off. He kipped immediately to his feet and swung his blade.
The zombie dodged with preternatural dexterity, actually giving him flashbacks to Queenie. Unfortunately for the zombie, she wasn't an alien genocidal monstrosity sent to wipe out all of humanity, and so Harry was able to corner her and remove her head quite easily.
"Zombie in the bathtub," Harry commented. "That gets the blood flowing," he added with a chuckle as he put his sword away. "I hope you don't do that to regular people – the jump-scare's fun, but the strangling part would kill them."
The room was dark and oppressive.
"Killing your customers means killing repeat business, and you want repeat business," Harry lectured. "That's the best kind of business to get."
The feeling in the room seemed to drop in intensity, and felt more… pondering… before lightening considerably.
"You're welcome," Harry said with a grin. "I'm just going to take a shower, alright?"
He halfway expected room 217 to mess with his shower, maybe turn the water to blood, or make it ice-cold in the middle of his shower or something.
He felt silly when he finished his shower and nothing had happened. The Overlook was messing with him, he knew it, and he knew that the Overlook knew that he knew.
With a chuckle, he want to the sink and ran some water. Mel had stocked the room with toothbrushes and paste, and Harry ran a toothbrush under the water before starting to brush his teeth.
He looked up at the mirror, and spat into the sink; his mouth was filled with blood and the toothbrush was now a straight razor. He spat again; more blood filled the sink. For a moment, he feared he'd done himself considerable damage before realizing he felt no pain.
It took half a thought and a minor application of Shen to shatter the illusion. He was holding a toothbrush and his mouth was only filled with suds, not blood.
Harry rinsed his mouth and looked at the ceiling. "That," he said, "was awesome. You got me with that one, I actually though I'd carved my mouth up."
The darkness in the room lightened slightly, and he had the strange impression that the presence in room 217 was taking a bow.
He couldn't help himself. He applauded it.
0000
The next morning, Harry went down to breakfast. Arguably, the most important meal of the day his intimate connection to Hestia's domain told him. His three friends were already there, and went he sat down to join them, Melinoe ghosted in from some unseen doorway.
As Goddess of Ghosts, Melinoe was very good at ghosting.
"Everyone have a good night?" Melinoe asked, grinning as if she was in on some inside joke.
"It was the best night's sleep I had in a long time," Percy vowed, looking as if he were about ready to convert to the Church of Ghosts. "Seriously, that bed felt like a cloud." Annabeth and Grover added their own explicitly grateful gratitudes. It seemed like the Goddess of Ghosts knew how to run a good hotel when she wanted to.
Melinoe laughed softly. "Glad you approve. Be grateful this one asked for a normal room," she said, jerking her thumb at Harry.
Harry waved cheerfully.
"How about you, Kiddo? Good night's sleep?" Melinoe asked, her grin widening slightly and developing too many points to be called 'nice'.
"It's awesome," Harry replied with a snicker. "It started with the firehose outside my room pretending to strangle me."
"Oh? And how did that turn out?" Melinoe asked, over the gasps of Annabeth, Percy, and Grover.
"It ended by it actually trying to strangle me. I think I insulted it by calling it a very nice illusion," Harry confessed. "After drawing my sword and cutting it up, I was able to actually get inside the room – where it tried to kill me in the bathtub by conjuring a zombie that tried to strangle me. It actually got in a good jump-scare and I froze for a moment so it actually was able to grab hold of me. I had to wrestle it for a bit before I could get my sword in and decapitate it." He then proceeded to give a graphic description of the illusion on his toothbrush, complete with hand-motions.
Melinoe snickered. "It definitely sounds like The Overlook is trying to impress you."
"Well, it worked," Harry said with a snicker. He blinked when the shadow of the potted plant next to him morphed into some kind of cartoonish monstrosity of a man-eating plant, compete with jagged teeth and the 'practice' bites that sounded like wolf-traps slamming shut.
The next moment, the shadow, still attached to a way-too-regular potted plant, snapped at the shadow of Harry's stack of blueberry pancakes. It seemed to munch for a few moments, before regressing into the regular shadow of a regular potted plant.
Harry blinked at the huge bite the shadow had taken out of his stack of pancakes. Percy, Annabeth, and Grover looked pale at the sight of the shadow taking actual, physical, bites out of food. If it could eat food by biting its shadow, it could bite them, too.
"It's definitely showing off now," Melinoe said with a snicker.
"It's definitely working," Harry laughed, before looking at the plant. "You could have said you were hungry, you didn't need to steal my food, you know."
The plant's shadow morphed back for just a moment, displaying a cartoonish grin, before turning back into just a regular shadow.
"I will never understand how you can make connections like that," Melinoe said on a wondering tone. "First Christine, now The Overlook."
Harry shrugged. "Hestia says to treat people on how they act, not on how they look. So what if Christine is a car and The Overlook is a hotel? If they're people, they're people. And The Overlook and I had a chat yesterday about not killing customers as that would kill repeat business."
Melinoe looked stunned for a moment. "So that's why I suddenly didn't have to hold it back anymore," she said. "Harry, you amaze me."
Harry looked at his pancakes. "I'm no-one special, just doing what Hestia said," he muttered, uncomfortable with the praise.
"Aw, he's so cute when he's all flustered!" Melinoe said, throwing an arm around Harry and dragging him into a one-sided hug. "Anyway," she said, still grappling Harry and not letting the squirming demigod go back to his breakfast, "let's discuss how I'm going to get you to my Father's front door. So you can… knock."