I do not own Harry Potter or Percy Jackson.

Chapter Sixteen: The Dark Lady

(a.k.a. Chrysa Goes Psycho)

She took a deep breath in, then allowed her bulky winter clothing to melt into shadow, only to be replaced by Leuke's familiar armor. The black assassin's armor had not been used in battle since Leuke had called it to her on the day of her death. Hades had taken it from her corpse, had it repaired, and returned it to their shared rooms in his palace.

After Leuke's death, Hades had changed rooms, unable to continue sleeping in the place his beloved had once occupied. Everything had remained exactly as it had on the day of Leuke's death until Chrysa ventured into the rooms once more.

The armor was lighter than most; only the breastplate was true Stygian iron, while the rest of the armor was a combination of katobleps leather, Stygian iron chain mail, and drakon skin. The leather was primarily padding to keep the metal in the armor from making noise. It was entirely black, from the leather to the metal, and covered her from her neck to her split-toe boots. Fingerless gloves allowed her full usage of her fingers, though her wrists and forearms were encased in drakon-skin vambraces. The entire armor was streamlined, with no extra fabric loose anywhere that could become caught on something.

There were several Stygian iron knives in hidden sheaths around her body, not counting those that she could call instantly through the shadows. Her sword was not with her; Stygian iron was hard to enchant into other forms, and it was too easy for the sword get caught on things for her to wear it during her…specialty assignments. She also had several more modern weapons – or at least, weapons that weren't ancient Greek. She had developed a great fondness for throwing knives, stars, and needles, all of which were easily concealed in special sheaths in her weaponry. All were also poisoned, and since Chrysa had gone to Akhlys for the poison, it was unlikely there was a cure.

She also had a gun that was enchanted to have unlimited Stygian iron bullets, but she preferred not to use it. Guns could be so clumsy and random. Blades were more elegant weapons from a more civilized age.

Still, she was an armored figure dressed entirely in black. Combined with the facemask that Chrysa currently wore around her neck, it was an altogether terrifying ensemble.

Chrysa closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"I walk with Death this night," she whispered, before allowing herself to fall back into the shadows.

Noise and sensation accosted her senses as the information from every shadow in the world entered her mind at the same moment. With the ease of long practice, Chrysa separated herself from the noise, though it was much harder now as a mortal than it had ever been as a goddess. Even as an immortal demigod, she was still human and mentally was not as capable of handling the constant stream of information that the shadows would present her with given the opportunity.

Now detached enough from the original information superhighway to think, Chrysa began to sift through the flow, looking for information – any information – on where Bianca could possibly be.

There was nothing that mattered more to her than Bianca at the moment. All sides of her – Leuke, Maria, and Amaranth – agreed on that. Her children would always be her first priority, and woe to anyone who stood in her way.

Amaranth Potter may have taken the high road in her defeat of Voldemort and the Death Eaters, but the eighteen years she had lived before regaining the memories of her past lives paled in comparison to the millennia she had spent as Leuke.

Not even Zeus was willing to stand in the way of Leuke on the warpath.

Her usual domain might have been shadows and secrets, which made her the patroness of spies, but there was little difference in spies and assassins, as many enemies had learned to their detriment. There were many Titans whose names had never been recorded, as they had been killed on Kronos' orders before the rise of the gods. The Greeks had never known their names needed to be recorded.

Leuke had continued her side-duty for Zeus, which was why the Titan Rebellion, composed mainly of the second- and third-generation Titans who had lost many rights when the gods took over, had never fully taken off. Leuke's murder of their leaders – though there was no evidence as to her involvement – had been quick and permanent. The Greeks had never known it had occurred, and continued to refer to Helios and Selene for many centuries after their deaths, despite the fact that Apollo and Artemis had already taken up their roles as deities of the sun and moon.

"Where did Thorn take Bianca?" Chrysa asked the shadows.

Images flashed through her mind almost too fast to comprehend.

Thorn with Bianca and Annabeth clinging to him, calling out for someone to transport them…the shadows coming up around them and pulling them through…the seemingly abandoned warehouse where they landed…

It only took that before Chrysa was falling through the shadows, the only indication of movement the sudden pressure on her skin and the chilling cold that struck her to the bone. It was a sensation she had felt many times before.

She arrived in the old warehouse still cloaked in shadow, though she wouldn't be for long. There were monsters here, many, many monsters. There were nearly a dozen demigods as well, walking in between the monsters, conversing amicably with their leaders. Some of them were faces she recognized from Camp Half-Blood the previous two summers.

"Traitors," Chrysa hissed under her breath. An unintentional flick of her powers marked them as traitors for all (immortals) to see. The demigods had betrayed their own, had betrayed their parents and their gods, and they would suffer the consequences.

Every demigod shivered simultaneously as their auras were permanently marked with the inverted form of Leuke's sigil.

The marks claimed by astrologers and astronomers to symbolize the celestial bodies were in no way new. Each mark was originally associated with a Greek god. Very rarely had the marks been lost, though they were often repurposed. Metis' mark had become Athena's. An adaptation of Leuke's mark had been adopted by occult circles around the world. Funnily enough, Thanatos and Persephone had perverted Leuke's mark when designing the Deathly Hallows. Her original mark was nearly identical, with the exception of the triangle being within the circle as opposed to the circle being within the triangle.

Due to her status as the patroness of traitors, the inverted form of Leuke's sigil had been used to mark traitors to the gods since the gods began their rule. It was more than just a simple mark; it was a brand on their souls that would be visible to everyone in the Underworld, and was cause for immediate fast-track to the Fields of Punishment.

A god was the only one who could mark someone with their sigil after all. If the Lady of the Underworld named someone a traitor, a traitor they would be punished as.

Her favorite Stygian iron dagger melted into her hand from the shadows. She pressed her lips to the flat of the blade, took two steps through shadow, and slit the first demigod's throat. Before anyone registered he was dead, she had already slit another demigod's throat and shot four different dracaenae with her magically-silenced pistol.

She stepped into shadow again and came back out between two more demigods. She slit the throat of one and threw a knife into the throat of the other, even as she dropped to one knee to avoid the arterial blood that sprayed over her head, dripping onto her black hair. She cocked the gun and fired swiftly at every monster in sight, each and every shot a head-shot.

Another demigod ran at her, sword raised to bring it down upon her head. She somersaulted to her feet, going through shadow mid-roll, so she ended up behind him and was able to stab a needle through base of his skull to his spinal cord.

She met the sword of the next demigod with the hilt of her dagger, but quickly disarmed him and stabbed him through the gut with his own sword.

Another throwing knife ended up embedded in the forehead of demigod number seven, causing demigod number eight to let out a screech of rage. She fired an arrow at Chrysa, which the elder mortal goddess easily avoided with a tilt of her head, before taking a step through shadow. She reappeared behind the girl, knife held point-down. She kicked out the back of the girl's knees, sending her into a kneeling pose, before wrapping her arm around the demigod's neck and slitting her throat.

The other four demigods were trying to leave through the far door, but the shadows came up to stop them, slamming the door shut just before they could reach it.

Chrysa clucked her tongue at them.

"You didn't really think you would make it out of here, did you?"

"Please, please, just don't…don't kill us," a boy who looked to be the youngest of them pleaded.

"Who's in charge here?" Chrysa demanded.

The boy pointed at demigod number five – the one Chrysa had killed with a needle.

"The girl you just killed was his second," the boy said helpfully. "The one before her was her boyfriend."

"Let's see if you can help me before I decide your fate," Chrysa said decisively. She held up the knife in her hand, still dripping blood. "Did the manticore come here?"

The boy looked up at what looked to be the eldest of the remaining demigods.

"…Yes," the other boy said. "He was only here for twenty minutes before he left in a helicopter."

"And the two girls with him?" Chrysa demanded, taking two steps through shadow so that she stood directly in front of them. "What about them? There should have been a blonde and a black-haired girl."

"He took them with him," the boy said quickly, looking warily at her knife. "He knocked them out – drugged them – and then had us load them into the plane that would take to headquarters."

"Where is headquarters?" Chrysa questioned, raising her knife to the boy's throat.

The boy's eyes were wide with fear.

"I-I don't know! Only the leaders knew!"

Chrysa looked into his eyes, using her less-than-stellar Legilimency abilities to confirm his words.

"You speak the truth," she said bluntly. "For that, you will live. But I'm afraid you won't be remembering any of this."

A flick of her wrist summoned the Elder Wand to her hand. Normally she cast with the holly-and-phoenix-feather wand she had received from Ollivander, but when she cast with the Elder Wand, she was able to tap into her immortal powers and permanently wipe the memories of this encounter.

Neither Atlas nor Kronos would be kind to them if he knew they'd given her information.

She pointed the Elder Wand and rapidly cast four Stunners. With all four prone on the ground, she pointed at the first and cast, "Obliviate."

It took a great deal of effort to wipe someone's mind thoroughly. There were two kinds of memory modification: the razor method, which required a skilled Legilimens who could examine specific memories and cut out the pieces they wanted removed, and the blunt-force method, in which the entirety of a certain period of time was removed.

Despite Hermione's erstwhile efforts to teach her, Chrysa was terrible at Legilimency. After having her mind invaded so many times, she had a mental block that prevented her from progressing in the subject. She was really only good enough to read emotions. Her Occlumency skills were now excellent, though. Combining wizard magic and immortal magic had made her shields impenetrable to both worlds.

Well, Hecate could probably break in. But Hecate liked both Leuke and Chrysa, so that wasn't really an issue.

Anyways, Chrysa was usually only good width the blunt-force method of Obliviation. She was powerful enough to just throw magic at it until it was erased for good. All in all, she preferred to leave any necessary Obliviation to Hermione or a Ministry Obliviator, but there was no time for that now.

She quickly managed to erase the entirety of the day from all four demigods' minds, before leaving them crumpled on various parts of the ground with lumps on their head. It wouldn't do for anyone to figure out that they had been knocked out with magic.

Chrysa did promise Hades to do her best to stay safe, and the longer the identity of the reincarnated Leuke could be separated from Chrysa Potter, the better. Magic would be too much of an indicator, especially when there was so much evidence of Underworldly heritage. Only denizens of the Underworld and their children could use shadow travel. Only Leuke and her foster parents could make use of it as frequently as she had.

With her victims lying prone in a corner, Chrysa took the time to move through the room and look for any papers that seemed important. When she found one, she magically copied it and shoved it through the shadows back to her New York penthouse.

The most interesting thing she found was a list of demigods, complete with names, parentages, and locations. Some of the names she recognized. Others she did not. The frightening part was that a great deal of the list was either located 'aboard the Princess Andromeda' or at 'Headquarters.' Chrysa made sure to copy the list twice, sending one copy to her apartment and the other to her chambers in the Underworld.

Finally, the building cleared, Chrysa stepped into the shadows once more. Again, she was surrounded by the overwhelming flood of information as every shadow began screaming its secrets into her mind at the same moment. She had moved into it faster this time, and it took longer to separate herself from the information waterfall.

At least, it seemed to take longer. Time was always skewed while standing in shadows.

"Where is Bianca?" she asked.

An image formed in her mind of a familiar, broken palace shrouded in darkness. Like many of the ruins in ancient Greece, the black marble palace still held faint hints of its former glory. It had been a terrible and beautiful place once, built in fear and shadow. There were very few people who remembered it as it once stood, but Leuke was one of them.

Mount Othrys had been her home for almost three thousand years, after all.

There was a sudden pressure against her skin, almost to the point that her skin was peeling off, along with a flash of cold, and then she was there.

She remained cloaked in shadow, which was easy among the dim lighting of the fallen fortress. This close to where the sky yearned to kiss the earth…there was rarely any great light. Neither Apollo nor Artemis drove their chariots Atlas' way. There was no need to give light to the prisoner of five ages.

…the prisoner who was currently in the throne room and most definitely not pinned under the sky where he belonged.

Chrysa forced herself to melt further into the shadows at the sight. Of the living Titans, Atlas was the one she had worked with the most. Kronos' right hand and his left had often worked in conjunction both before and during the war with the gods.

Leuke had also literally stabbed him in the back in order to incapacitate him before he was shoved under the sky, so there was that.

Chrysa slipped through shadow to stand behind a half-destroyed black marble pillar.

"Is the girl in place?" Atlas asked.

"Yes, my lord," a voice she recognized as Dr. Thorn replied. "I left her close to the summit. She will no doubt find him there shortly."

"Good," the Titan rumbled. "And the other one?"

"In the dungeons. I thought we should let her stop screaming abuses at us before we attempt to speak with her again," the manticore reported.

The Titan hummed thoughtfully.

"We shall give her a half-hour to get it out of her system. Then, I shall speak with the brat."

Chrysa silently gritted her teeth. There was no way Atlas was getting anywhere near her daughter. Bianca looked too much like Leuke for him not to suspect anything. Even if he did not determine she was Leuke's daughter, he would know she was Hades'. The Lord of the Underworld was quietly known for his tendency to take lovers who reminded him of his first.

"Do we know who her parent is?" Atlas asked.

"No, my lord. She claimed to be an orphan, but she also claimed to remember both of her parents. However, neither of the children spoke of their parents," Thorn revealed.

"Whoever the mortal parent was must have been a good lay if the godly parent came back for more," Atlas said. "Perhaps I should find a mortal partner to entertain me. It's not like anyone has seen my wife recently."

Chrysa made a mental note to Iris-message Pleione once she had Bianca home.

The sound of approaching footsteps caused her to shrink further into the shadows. The sight of the approaching figure almost made her growl.

"Ah, young Luke," Atlas greeted. "I take it the girl took the bait?"

"Yes, my lord," Luke said. He was breathing heavily, and appeared to be in pain. "She is trapped beneath the sky and awaiting the arrival of the goddess."

"Our forces have already reported the successful capture of Artemis," Atlas stated. "She will be here within the day."

"I'm not sure how long the girl will last," Luke said, still obviously trying to control his breathing.

"She can last twenty-four hours, certainly," Atlas said dismissively. "You said she is strong-willed? She will survive. You lasted three days."

"I serve at our master's pleasure," Luke replied.

Atlas laughed coldly.

"Indeed you do. Go. Rest your mortal frame. You will want to be there when we trap the goddess."

Luke bowed.

"Yes, my lord."

He turned on a heel and left the throne room, presumably to return to whatever quarters he was in.

Chrysa crept quietly through the hall. This close to the Titan, she could shadow-travel. While the Titan of Strength was probably still too weak to sense it, she would not take the chance when it was her daughter's life on the line.

It took an achingly slow amount of time, but she finally exited the throne room down the hall that would lead to the dungeons. It took a long time to travel the steps. While the palace had been constructed on the summit of Mount Othrys, the dungeons were deep within the mountain itself. The only way out was through the throne room. They were warded against every form of magical travel but one.

Kronos had found it amusing when Leuke used her shadows to torture prisoners. Since her shadows were not blocked from the dungeons, shadow travel was still possible. She could get Bianca out of the dungeons. She just had to free her first.

Finding Bianca was easy enough. Thorn has simply shoved her into the first open cell. The fact that so many of the cells were filled was concerning, even more so that they were filled by demigods. Several had familiar enough facial features that she could pinpoint their parent. A couple she recognized from Camp Half-Blood.

Amaranth Potter probably would have tried to save them. Leuke merely felt a brief twinge of pity for those trapped in Kronos' net, but ultimately her focus remained on her objective: Bianca. Nothing mattered more than Bianca.

Bianca was in the eighth cell on the left from the stairwell, on the topmost level of dungeons. These were the nicest dungeons, used for the prisoners that Kronos was angered by, but still needed on his side. Leuke had nominally spent a half-century in the upper level of the prison between all the different times she had rejected Kronos' advances.

Chrysa stopped at the door to Bianca's cell and pulled her lock-picks from her left boot. While magic would be the most efficient way in, Chrysa didn't know if Hecate had re-enchanted the cells to counter modern magic. If she had, simply attempting Alohomora could set something off. Opening the cell at all would probably set something off, but Chrysa just needed to get to Bianca. Thorn hadn't even bothered chaining her down. This one door was the only thing between her and her daughter.

It took longer than she would want to admit to for her to get in. Every minute ticked anxiously by as the time for Atlas to visit drew nearer. It had been a long time since Chrysa had needed to manually pick locks. She was out of practice. She silently vowed to resolve that once this mess was over.

Finally, the locked opened with a decisive snick. Chrysa wasted no time in opening the door to the tiny cell.

Bianca sat on the cot in the corner, arms wrapped around her knees. She was in the corner furthest from the door, and she had jerked toward it as soon as the locked had opened.

"Bianca," Chrysa said in relief, moving towards her daughter.

Bianca shrunk away from her. "Who are you? What do you want from me? I don't want to hurt anyone!"

"Bianca, the only thing I want is to get you out of here and reunite you with your family," Chrysa said firmly. "But I can't do that unless you're willing to trust me. Can you do that for a few minutes?"

Bianca hesitated.

"They probably know that I'm here now," Chrysa said warningly.

Bianca nodded slowly. "Okay. What do I need to do?"

Chrysa reached out for her.

"Take my hand," she said.

She could hear angry shouts and a multitude of footsteps rapidly approaching the cell, Atlas' clumping prominent among them. They were too late.

Bianca uncurled her arms from around her legs and reached out to take Chrysa's hand.

There was a flash of recognition as soon as she did so.

"Mamma?" she asked in awe.

Chrysa smiled quickly for her before taking two steps forward and wrapping her arms around her daughter.

"This might be a little uncomfortable," she warned.

She dragged her daughter into the shadows just before Atlas reached the cell. As they traveled, the shadows relayed Atlas' roar of rage at losing his prize prisoner.

A few steps through the biting cold, and they were in a bedroom richly decorated in red and gold. Chrysa wandlessly summoned a wastebasket and placed it in front of her daughter just before the contents of her stomach made an abrupt reappearance.

"I apologize, passerotta, I would not normally force shadow-travel on someone so unexpectedly. But we needed to leave before anyone appeared to stop us," Chrysa said quietly.

"Mamma, what was that? Where are we? What was that – that thing that took me? Why did it take me?" Bianca asked helplessly.

Chrysa quickly moved to wrap her arms around her overwhelmed daughter. She pulled her away from the wastebasket – the contents of which she quickly vanished – and onto the bed where she could hold her daughter in her lap. Bianca curled impossibly smaller into her lap as she leaned her head against her mother's shoulder, desperately trying to draw in the comfort she needed after such a terrifying twelve hours. It was only then that she started to cry.

Chrysa didn't try to stop her. She had been kidnapped before. She had been tortured before. She knew that this first time was overwhelming. All she did was hold her daughter and rock her slightly, reassuring her that she was there, that Mamma had her, that none of the monsters she'd so recently learned existed would appear to pull her away from her mother's arms.

It took several long minutes for the sobs to die down. Chrysa was thankful that the Silencing charms around her room would keep any of the house's other occupants from being disturbed.

When Bianca was finally able to look up at her again, Chrysa pulled a handkerchief out of her nightstand and used it to dry her daughter's face. She put the handkerchief up to Bianca's nose and ordered, "Blow." Bianca did so. Chrysa tossed the used handkerchief onto the bedside table and tapped her daughter's nose.

"Feel better?" she asked.

Bianca nodded slowly.

"Well, I suppose I'll start on your questions then, passerotta. Which one first?"

"Where are we?" Bianca asked.

Chrysa smiled. "This is my bedroom at my adoptive fathers' house. We're in London. I wanted to get you as far away from that place as possible. While not quite on the opposite side of the world from San Francisco, here's the furthest safe place away I knew of."

"Adoptive father?" Bianca asked in confusion.

Chrysa sighed. She'd been hoping to avoid this for a little while longer, but Bianca (and Nico) needed to know.

"I was hoping to tell you and your brother this at the same time, but you need to know. Passerotta, what do you remember about the last day you, your brother, and I were together as a family?" she asked.

Bianca's brow furrowed.

"We were…we were living in the hotel in D.C. Papà wasn't always with us, but he came to visit us all the time. We'd been living there almost two years. The war was over in Europe, but there was still war with Japan. You hoped that we might be able to go back home soon. Then…one day…Papà was visiting us. You were talking with him while Nico and I played cards. It was your birthday. Papà wanted to take us to go somewhere else to stay. You said that you'd discuss it more over lunch, and then you went to get your purse. Then…then…" her voice trailed off, and she looked confused. "I don't remember," she said.

Chrysa sighed.

"You're not supposed to. Your father bound your memories. It's why you only recognized me when I touched you. Bianca…that day in the hotel…Bianca, there was an explosion. Your father managed to save you and Nico, but I died."

Bianca's face paled dramatically.

"What? But…you're right here!"

Chrysa smiled sadly.

"Bianca, your father was no mortal man. Your father is an actual Greek god."

"But…that's impossible," Bianca said, her voice quavering. "This is not cool. This isn't Nico's stupid game, Mamma. There are no gods."

Chrysa ran her hand over her daughter's hair.

"I know it's hard to believe, passerotta. But the gods are still around. They're immortal. And whenever they have children with mortals, children like you…the children live dangerous lives. You've seen that already. You were kidnapped by the manticore and taken to the dungeons of Mount Othrys, the stronghold of the Titan Lord Kronos, who seeks to destroy the gods."

"What – what did he want from me?" Bianca said with a gulp.

"Your allegiance, I suspect. If he had known your parentage, he would have used you as a weapon against your father and I. We would not fight if your life was in danger."

"If Papà is a god, who is he?" Bianca asked.

Chrysa pressed a kiss to her daughter's forehead.

"I can't tell you that, passerotta. Only he can do so, and I expect he will wish to tell both you and her brother at the same time. Tell me, how long has it been since you were in the Lotus Hotel and Casino?"

"The lawyer came and got us at the end of July," Bianca replied. "He took us to D.C. for a few weeks, and then up to Westover Hall. He said that it wasn't safe for us to be with you, but that you'd come get us when you could."

"I am going to murder your father," Chrysa said tightly. "He didn't tell me that he'd sent someone to let you out. It wasn't safe for you before. Your father – your father is powerful, figlietta, powerful enough that even his own family does not trust his children to be free. The Lotus Hotel is magic, Bianca. As long as you remain there, you do not age, nor do you notice the passing of time. How long did it seem like you were there?"

"A month," Bianca said hesitantly.

There was no easy way to break this to her.

"Bianca, you were in the Lotus Hotel for sixty-three years," Chrysa said bluntly.

The girl gasped.

"But…but how are you here then, Mamma? You don't look any older!"

"I'm not older, figlietta, I'm younger. I told you, there was an explosion at the hotel we lived in. I died in that explosion. I died, and was reincarnated as I am now. My name isn't Maria di Angelo anymore. I am Amaranth Chrysocomê Potter-Black. I was born twenty-eight years ago to James and Lily Potter, but in truth my father was Zeus, Lord of the Skies. I was born a witch blessed by Hecate, goddess of magic, and at the age of seventeen I defeated a dark lord of magic and achieved the title of "Master of Death", which brought with it quasi-immortality. I reunited with your father and remain his lover to this day. This house we are in is the house of my godfather, Sirius Black, and his husband, Remus Lupin-Black. They adopted me as their own when I was fourteen years old. When I was eighteen, I got my memories of you and your brother back. That's when your Papà and I started visiting you in the Lotus Hotel. It was too dangerous for you to leave, but I tried to visit as often as I could."

Bianca sniffled.

"If you were reincarnated, does that mean…does that mean I'm not your daughter anymore?"

Chrysa immediately wrapped her arms around her softly crying child.

"Oh, no, my sweet, it doesn't work that way. Well, it can, but it doesn't work that way for those of us who are 'divinely-involved.' The Fates make sure of that. This is my third life. In my first life, I was a nymph, and your father's lover, but I was killed and turned into a tree. In my second life, I was clear-sighted, a mortal capable of seeing through the Mist. Again, I was your father's lover, and I had you and your brother as my children. In this life, I was born a demigod, and I achieved my own form of immortality. If someone checked my DNA against yours, I would still register as your mother. I am your mother in body and soul, even if this is not the body that birthed you."

Suddenly, there was a loud pop and a small, hunched-over figure appeared on the ground in front of the bed. Bianca let out a small shriek and curled further into Chrysa's arms. Chrysa squeezed her briefly in reassurance, before saying, "Good morning, Kreacher."

"Will Mistress Amaranth and her guest be joining the family for breakfast?" the house-elf asked.

Chrysa looked down at her still-fearful daughter.

"What do you think, passerotta? Shall we go to breakfast with my godfathers and godchildren?"

Bianca bit her lip as her stomach let out a low growl.

"We can eat in here if you don't want to meet new people right now," Chrysa offered gently.

"No," Bianca said decisively. "I want to meet them."

Chrysa smiled at her bravery.

"Alright then. Breakfast it is. Two more for breakfast, Kreacher. Oh, and this is my daughter, Bianca di Angelo. She is a member of this family and should be treated as such."

Kreacher bowed.

"Yes, Mistress, Little Mistress."

There was another pop, and the house-elf was gone.

"What was that?" Bianca asked quietly.

Chrysa laughed.

"That was a house-elf. They're magical creatures. They live to serve wizard families. Kreacher has served the House of Black for more than half a century. We didn't get along at first, but we managed to sort out our differences."

"You sound British, Mamma," Bianca pointed out.

Chrysa laughed again. "I was born in Britain, dear one. Coming home tends to bring my accent back, just as being with you and your brother brings my Italian accent back. Now, come. Let's get ourselves cleaned up and ready for breakfast."

Chrysa ushered Bianca into her attached bathroom to shower, and banished her armor back through the shadows as soon as the door was shut. A quick hunt through her drawers procured t-shirts and jeans for both of them. She knew that liberal use of resizing charms would allow the clothes to fit her daughter. At twelve, Bianca wasn't much smaller than she was. No matter what life she lived in, she was always cursed to be short.

Bianca only took a few minutes in the shower, obviously not wanting to be away from Chrysa for very long. Chrysa merely handed her clothing and promised to leave the door cracked while she was in the shower. Less than half an hour after Kreacher had originally appeared, both were ready to face breakfast in Black Manor.

They were just in time to, as Kreacher popped in just long enough to say, "Breakfast is ready, Mistress, Little Mistress."

Chrysa held her daughter's hand as they left the room and traveled down the stairs to the family dining room.

No one else had made it there yet, confirming Chrysa's suspicions that Kreacher hadn't actually told anyone that she was here. If they'd known, they would have made it already.

Chrysa took her usual seat at Sirius' right and placed Bianca next to her. Between sitting beside one of her godfathers and one of the children, she suspected Bianca would find the children less threatening. Especially if it was Teddy. Her eldest godson was the same age as Nico.

The teal-haired ten-year-old let out a loud, "You're here!" as he entered the room, before running to hug Chrysa.

Chrysa laughed joyfully as she embraced him.

"Yes, I am! Just for breakfast though. I have to get back to Camp Half-Blood."

Teddy then noticed the silent girl beside her. He tilted his head.

"Who's this?"

Chrysa smiled and took her daughter's hand.

"Teddy, this is my daughter, Bianca."

Teddy's face brightened. "di Angelo?" he questioned, looking to Bianca for confirmation.

She nodded.

"I'm so glad to finally meet you!" Teddy said, reaching out and grabbing her in a surprise hug. "Amaranth mentioned we might get to meet you someday, and I always hoped we would! I'm Teddy, by the way. Edward Remus Lupin-Black, if we're being proper about it, but I've always just gone by Teddy."

"Why's that?" Bianca asked curiously.

"Well, I was named after Aunt Andromeda's husband," Teddy said. "His name was Edward, but he went by Ted, and he died in the War shortly before I was born. When I was born, Dad asked Aunt Andy if she'd mind, and she didn't, so they named me after Uncle Ted. Then my middle name is Remus after Papa. It's a family tradition, you see, to give the eldest son the name of his father a middle name. My younger brother's middle name is Sirius, after Dad."

"Teddy is the oldest of my godfathers' four children," Chrysa explained. "Teddy's ten. Next is James Sirius, named after my adoptive father, James Potter, and Sirius. He's five. Then is Albus Severus, after two of the bravest men we knew who died in the War. Albus is two-and-a-half, and Lily Nymphadora just turned four months old. She was named after my mother, Lily Evans-Potter, and Aunt Andromeda's daughter, Nymphadora Tonks, who died saving mine and Sirius' lives."

Just then, they were footsteps clomping down the stairs.

"Speak of the devils, and they shall appear," Chrysa called out merrily.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite adopted daughter," Sirius called back as he swooped into the room, Albus in his arms and James clutching the hem of his pants. Remus was on his heels, carrying Lily. "And a guest! What brings you two to England this fine morning?"

Sirius walked the long way around the table, past Chrysa, so that he could stop and drop a kiss on the top of her head before continuing around to deposit James and Albus in their chairs. Teddy took the seat next to Bianca. Remus chose to situate Lily in her seat beside his first, before coming to embrace his adopted daughter.

"It's good to see you, Amaranth," he said warmly. "But we weren't expecting you until Christmas Eve!"

"We're just here for breakfast," Chrysa apologized. "Dad, Papa, this is my daughter, Bianca di Angelo. She had a bit of a traumatic experience, so I brought her here to cry it out before we went back to Camp Half-Blood to get her brother."

Remus raised an eyebrow while Sirius' face lit up.

"I'm a grandfather!" he announced. "I'm too young to be a grandfather!"

"You're forty-nine years old," Chrysa shot back. "Plenty of people are grandparents by the time they hit forty-nine."

"I also just had a baby," Sirius shot back. "I'm too young to be a grandfather."

Chrysa merely rolled her eyes.

Remus turned a gentle smile to Bianca.

"It's good to finally meet you, Bianca," he greeted. "We've been looking forward to it. Have you been introduced to everyone?"

She hesitated.

"You're…either Sirius or Remus," Bianca finally said.

Remus let out a small laugh. "I'm Remus. The knucklehead at the other end of the table is Sirius."

"Hey!" Sirius protested. Remus ignored him with the ease of long practice.

"I'm sure Teddy introduced himself since he was already down here. James is the one across from you. Albus is between Sirius and James, and this little lady is Lily," he said, reaching over to tickle the baby's chin. She nearly bit his finger off with exceptionally sharp teeth. Remus dodged in a well-practiced gesture.

Before anyone could say anything else, platters of breakfast food appeared on the table. Today Kreacher had gone for a French breakfast rather than an English one, which was more in line with what Bianca was used to.

"Just grab whatever looks good, Bianca," Sirius offered. "We tend to eat a lot in this house; Remus is a werewolf and all the kids have the gene, even if none but Lily seem to show it actively. But it still means they eat a lot. And I turn into a dog and Amaranth…I don't know why Amaranth eats so much."

Chrysa playfully swatted her godfather's shoulder, causing him to jump in fake-surprise.

Breakfast was mostly peaceful, with most of the conversation filled by Teddy and James. Remus directed few questions to Bianca, but seemed to respect the obviously overwhelmed air she was giving off. The only interruption was the arrival of the post-owls, including the Daily Prophet for Remus and the Quibbler for Sirius.

"Are you going to the Ministry Yule Ball?" Sirius asked Chrysa, not looking up from where he was reading the Quibbler upside-down.

"I said that I would, but it depends on how hectic things are with Camp and Nico and Bianca," she replied.

"Bill, Fleur, Charlie, George, and Angelina have promised to babysit all the kids, since they're the only ones not required to go to the ball. Arthur, Molly, Percy, Audrey, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Dean, Remus, and I are all going. They're already at eighteen kids, I'm sure they won't mind bringing it up to an even twenty if you bring Nico and Bianca," Sirius replied quietly.

Chrysa hesitated.

"I'll probably have Thalia too."

"The more the merrier!" Sirius said cheerily. His face sobered and he leaned toward her to say in a low voice, "I don't know what's happening with all your godly stuff. It isn't my place to ask, and it isn't my place to know. Just remember, if you ever need a safe place – for you or your kids or that sister of yours – you've got one here."

Chrysa reached one arm over to hug her godfather.

"Thank you, Sirius."

AN: Sorry about the wait, this chapter did not want to be written. Except between the hours of midnight and 3 a.m. If anything seems weird, it's because I was only able to conquer writer's block when I was exhausted.

AN2: Italian terms of endearment: Chrysa calls Nico tesoro, which means treasure. She calls Bianca passerotta, little sparrow, and figlietta, little daughter.