NOTE: To everyone who's enjoying my stories, I'm really pleased and awed. However, please stop asking if I could commission any art pieces. I have mentioned this in my profile.

Vibe: Immortal by NEFFEX


It was the best sleep Remus had had in ages.

He wasn't sure if it was because Sirius was getting better every day.

Or because Sally had been in a much better mood that week. Or because baby Kimmy had managed to smile up at Remus and show him her favourite toy, the stuffed tiger that Rachel had given her. Or because of the odd dream he had of shimmering gold flakes floating around like light snow.

Despite the full moon looming over him in a day, Remus felt physically and emotionally better than he'd had in a long time.

Whatever the case, he rolled over and fell back asleep.


International magical transport was the same as riding a hellhound. Rachel, Harry, and Percy took a portkey with Dumbledore, landing in the UK Embassy.

They caught a lovely view of the city against the backdrop of the pyramids of Giza and the desert behind it. The streets were marked by rising buildings in a combination of contemporary and traditional Islamic architecture that Annabeth would have stabbed someone to gaze at.

Though Cairo's custody cells could use a bit of brightening up, Rachel thought.

Funnily enough, only she and Harry were put aside in a locked room while Dumbledore and Percy argued with the Aurors.

"So much for going through the right channels," Harry muttered.

"We expected this," Rachel said, brushing dust off her suit-pant outfit. Like the boys, she'd dressed incredibly formally for the visit. Dumbledore was the standout in his purple and yellow trim robes of grandeur that put even the Auror cloaks to shame.

"Seventy galleons for an express international portkey license," Harry pointed out.

"That's nothing for us," Rachel said, walking around the cramped cell. A small window with rigid iron bars was high up on the wall, too far for a human to leap and get a view.

Rachel jumped a few times and told Harry about the scenery.

"Compound! Grounds! Potted plants! Ooh, palm trees!"

"Rach."

"Puppers!"

Someone cleared their throat. Rachel leaped too high, and her skull banged against the ceiling. Bits of concrete rained down on her as she landed awkwardly.

"Sorry!" she cried, spinning around to meet the eyes of a man in his fifties. Grey tinged his hair and beard. He wore his age well. His brown eyes, honed from years of smart work, peered into hers.

"Well," Head Auror Omar Diab spoke quietly. "You are your mother's daughter, Miss Potter."

Rachel blushed brightly as she saw Dumbledore, Percy, and Harry observing the dent she'd made in the ceiling. She told the man, "Er, thank you, sir. It's actually Ms. Dare, now."

He raised an eyebrow. "Yes, certainly her daughter."

He escorted them into his office, waving away Harry's offer of fixing the dent.

"You should not have come here," Omar murmured.

Percy frowned. "But we told you, it's a matter of life and d—"

"I understand the matter very well, Mr. Jackson," Omar cut in. He locked the door and took a seat behind his desk. "But you must understand how we cannot cross pantheons without expecting retribution."

"I agree, Mr. Diab," Dumbledore said genially. He sat in one of the seats prepared for a light-hearted discussion of tea, crumpets, and ancient godly jewellery. "But I must insist upon this. Lily and James's children have brought the tea tray."

The sentence didn't confuse Omar. If anything, he only looked worried.

"I will need to call my sister," he finally said. "It would be best to get through this quickly."

He sent a paper memo with a flick of his wand.

Rachel shared a glance with Harry and Percy. It was good they weren't under arrest, but would the museum director help them? And why was the tea tray important?

The fireplace in the Auror office flared, spitting out a green flame before dying out.

"She is awaiting us," Omar said, gesturing to the fireplace.

They flooed into the heart of the Museum of Antiquities.

The atmosphere was much brighter than the Auror buildings. The museum was large-scale, with dark tiles that gleamed, golden-painted walls, and bright blue ceilings to enact the effect of royalty. They passed by halls of ancient tomes, scrolls, hieroglyphs carved on stone tablets, and even sarcophagi.

Rachel felt a thrill of blood and energy pumping through her despite what might happen. Arwa Karim would either help them or want to banish them from her country.

"You have the tray, don't you?" Percy mumbled to Harry.

"Yes!" Harry said irritably. "Don't even remind me."

Rachel and Percy smirked. Harry had been in a rush early in the morning, ransacking his room to pack everything into his moleskin pouch. Apparently, he'd misplaced his wand, his broom, and invisibility cloak, before finally getting everything sorted.

Except for the cloak.

"I bet it's in Percy's room," Harry muttered.

"What?" Percy blurted. "Why?"

"You're always taking my clothes."

"I wouldn't hide your invisibility cloak!"

"Hmm," Harry huffed.

Omar led them through a quiet corridor and unlocked a heavy door for them to head inside.

This was not any office.

Rachel, Harry, and Percy gawked at the interior. They saw no windows. The room was lit with its own light that didn't have any source. Several artifacts sat behind glass cases, illuminated by their own light.

But behind a glass barrier furthest from them sat a heavy metal jewellery box on a mound of dirt and sand. The lid was open, showing off the magnificent gold necklace that sat in its confines. The placard in front read in Arabic and then English.

Metal jewel box from the New Kingdom period. Dated during the reign of Ramesses XI (1107–1077 BCE), the last Pharaoh of the 20th Dynasty, the box houses a proto-Mycenaean Greek gold necklace with an inset emerald.

Verified by the Director, 1994 CE.

Percy stared in disbelief. Harry was speechless. Rachel saw Dumbledore equally puzzled.

Omar turned as his sister joined them. Like him, she too dressed smartly for any occasion; her colorful headdress fit in well with the decor of the secret room with ancient artifacts hidden from the world. Her keen eyes caught Rachel's gaze, and she didn't look away.

"Hello, Professor," Arwa Karim announced. "And Ms. Dare and friends. We have much to discuss."


Ron was glad he'd passed his Apparation test the previous March. He'd had plenty of practice apparating Ginny from Luna's house because she was a lazy sod who didn't like to walk the distance herself.

"Oi!" Ginny snapped. "I told you, Mum won't let me fly there!"

"You think I don't have anything better to do than be your personal chauffeur?" he argued.

"You're jobless anyhow!"

"I'm helping Hermione sort through all the god-wizard stuff!"

"Wow, yeah. That's a real job."

Ron muttered under his breath. "You try studying for NEWTS while following Hermione's notes on Greco-Roman expansion in Constantinople."

Ginny relented and headed out on her own.

Peace, Ron thought for a blessed minute. He had the kitchen to himself and could have all the tea he wanted. He was fairly sure he could finish the work Hermione assigned, separating fact from fiction and sending the rest of the unfiltered data to Annabeth so she could confirm it worked.

They were trying to prove that demigods used to live in Europe, especially England, several centuries ago, before they moved to the States in the 14th century, the common era.

Or was it 13th?

"Before the plague," Ron surmised from Hermione's many notes in her tiny handwriting. Only her parents, Harry and Ron, could decode her writing.

His mirror buzzed with Tonks's voice calling his name. "Ron? Ron!"

"Tonks?" Ron asked. "Something wrong?"

Tonks's face appeared in the mirror. Her hair had gone a bright red, and so had her face. It took a lot to get Tonks really riled up (other than calling her by her full name).

"Where's Percy?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"At the Ministry, I suppose. He might be in a meeting—"

"No, no. The other Percy!"

Ron was taken aback. "He's travelling, innit? Harry and Rachel's gone with him and Dumbledore. They'll be back tomorrow. Maybe this evening if everything works out—"

"Bloody hell!" Tonks swore. "We need people to calm things down. What about Nico? And Annabeth? And maybe someone from the Roman camp?"

Ron raised his eyebrows. "Um, I can call them. What's happening? Where are you?"

"South of Wales, near the border. Southern village."

Ron did a double-take. "When you say… 'southern' village…?"

"Yes, that village," she said tersely. "Look, can you get someone who knows about gods of wolves or werewolves?"

"What?!"

"No one's in danger right now," Tonks assured him. "But this is urgent. Call Annabeth, please!"

Tonks looked away from the mirror for a moment, and Ron saw her background better. She was indeed standing in a forestry area, probably in a clearing with fewer trees. A jumble of noises like an argument was audible.

Ron said, "I was supposed to talk to her anyway."

Tonk cut the call abruptly, and Ron shook his head. He called Annabeth readily, and she picked him up right away.

"13th or 14th?" Annabeth asked immediately.

"I'd say 13th century," Ron said. "Three separate authors mentioned migration of 'nomadic enhanced forces' before the Bubonic Plague. Hermione's pretty sure they were talking about the demigods."

"That'll make Sky's day," Annabeth grinned. "He figured it out first."

"Figured what?" someone offscreen asked.

"The gods travelled to North America way before the Independence War."

"Annabeth!" Ron caught her attention with the light urgency in tone. "How well do you work with werewolves?"

Annabeth's face was a mix of previous triumph, sudden confusion, and sharp intelligence.

"We don't work with them at all," she said. "Remus is the only one who's been cordial with us, but I haven't personally met anyone else."

"I met a few werewolves," the other person spoke. "Lupa knows some. They're excellent sparring partners."

Annabeth moved her mirror to include a new face beside hers. "Reyna, this is Ron Weasley."

"Yes, I remember," Reyna said. "From the Ministry. You and your sister got us out of the building."

She looked just as quick and intelligent as Annabeth and Ron wondered what would happen to the world if Reyna ever met Hermione.

"You're Jason's friend?" Ron recalled. "One of the Romans? That's perfect, actually."

"Is it?"

"Tonks called," Ron said. "She said she needed reps from the Greek and Roman camps at the Southern village in Wales. It's a werewolf village."

Reyna's eyes widened. "Yes, it is. I've heard of it."

"Has something gone wrong?" Annabeth asked.

"I hope not," Ron said, "Tonks needed Percy to be here. No one's in danger, but there was a big argument going on behind her."

Reyna was concerned. "Hylla was supposed to be in Europe this week… I can't be sure if she would have gone to Wales."

"Ron," Annabeth said. "Can you apparate us to the village?"

Ron's eyes widened. He twisted in his seat to peek at the living room where his mother, Fred, and George were arguing about a business they were planning on setting up.

"My Mum would have a hippogriff if she thought I was anywhere near a werewolf village," Ron admitted.

"Then just drop us there and go back."

"She'd personally murder me if I left you both near a werewolf village."

Annabeth sighed, exasperated. "Then… you can apparate back and send Nico and Mrs. O'Leary out. They're at Camp Jupiter. But it's still night there; they'll be asleep."

Ron thought it over. "Technically, I don't need to tell Mum… I'm 17. Also, Tonks would be there. Look, I can pick you both up from Frost, that works?"


"Metis's necklace was in Egypt all this time?!" Harry blurted.

"It never left the country," Director Karim explained. "Your parents stole it from the museum, yes. But they hid it in the temple in Alexandria where they found it."

"But..." Rachel mumbled. "What about the ban? You threatened to deport them, didn't you? And how is the necklace in Cairo now?"

"Mostly a ruse," Arwa said. "After… I'm sorry to say, but after your aunt passed, Mr. Jackson, we finally came to an agreement. Lily and James went back to the temple and retrieved the box with the necklace in 1997. We hid it in this room. It's not part of the general public's knowledge, and we hope to keep it that way."

Dumbledore nodded, eyes twinkling now. "Clever. You successfully fooled the academic world, Madam Director."

She nodded. "The plan was that the Potters would have a permanent ban from the country so people would believe that they hid the necklace far away."

"And died with the secret," Harry muttered.

To his and Rachel's surprise, Omar and Arwa genuinely looked saddened. They'd always thought Lily and James were hated by Egypt's authorities.

Percy was still struggling with the new knowledge. "So, the real necklace and box was here… and no one knows."

"Only two others outside this room," Omar said.

Rachel's eyes lit up. "Cassandra and Iphigenia!"

"Precisely," Arwa said, smiling at her enthusiasm.

"What about the tea tray?" Percy asked.

"Let me see it," Arwa requested.

Harry unbuttoned his collar and pulled out the moleskin pouch that had sat invisible and tiny. He loosened the drawstrings and stuck his arm inside the comically small space.

The gleaming silver tea tray made its appearance, and Arwa smiled.

"It has lasted all this time," she said, accepting the tray.

"It's a replica," Percy said. "Was it a plan? Like a decoy?"

"Not exactly," Omar said, nodding at his sister.

Arwa took out her wand and tapped the tray with the incantation, "أشعل." (Ash'al.)

Rachel watched in glee as the tray transformed in front of their eyes. It turned into a decently heavy Celestial Bronze box, barely half the size of the original ancient box that sat behind the glass barrier.

"Permanent transmutation enchantment," Dumbledore said, suitably impressed. "James's work, I take it."

Harry wavered. "Really?"

"Oh, yes," Arwa said, opening the box and examining it carefully. "It can switch between a tray and a box at any time with the inscribed code. The undetectable charms will render most tracking spells inert."

"Most?" Dumbledore asked.

Arwa eyed him seriously. "We are talking about gods and monsters, Professor. I cannot guarantee that the tray will hide the necklace from all your enemies. But without the code word, they will not be able to extract it from the tray."

Rachel nudged Harry. "We'll work with what we got. Can we take the necklace out from the jewellery box?"

Omar and Arwa hesitated. "The original box was designed to hold god-level power. You need to transfer quickly. But it's possible that the Earth goddess and your king will sense the tray as it moves away from Egyptian borders."

Percy struggled to hide his smirk. "I think we needn't worry about that."

"As you wish," Omar agreed. "But I have to suggest kicking you out of the country as soon as you take the necklace. I am not eager to have others invite themselves here to search the place."

Arwa tapped the glass barrier, and it vanished in an instant. The necklace shone even brighter. The precious gem swirled light within its tiny body, seemingly alive.

Dumbledore levitated the necklace from the large iron box. The air shimmered, heat waves twisting the molecules surrounding the gold necklace. He quickly dropped it into the Celestial Bronze box and Arwa shut it and said, "أطفئ." (Atfi.)

The box warped and changed shape, glowing brighter and flattening back into the silver tray. She handed it to Harry, who held it by the handles. She was amazed by the everlasting magic infused into it.

"Word of advice," Arwa added quietly. "If you break the tray, you could damage the necklace inside. It is warded against most attempts, but..."

Percy nodded. "This is godly and monstrous stuff we're talking about."


Annabeth found side-along apparition the weirdest of travels.

The moment they landed in Wales, she checked her knife, her collapsible shield, the smaller knives hidden on her person, and her bag with the laptop. All safe.

Reyna checked her weapons as well before nodding curtly to Ron. "I think I'll walk back to New Rome."

"I didn't splinch you, did I?" Ron pointed out.

"Good job on not murdering us," Annabeth patted his arm and walked towards the odd collection of people gathered in the forest clearing.

A huge plain canopy tent had been erected in the middle. It towered over them, at least twenty feet tall, its walls covering the interior from them.

Two women guarded the entrance, holding tall spears that glinted even in the shade. Another woman who looked remarkably like Reyna stood resolute next to Bianca di Angelo. They faced the Aurors and everyone was arguing.

Tonks was massaging her temples when she saw Annabeth.

"Thank Merlin!" she sighed, gesturing them over.

"What happened?" Annabeth asked, examining the tent.

Tonk exhaled and explained, "Few minutes past midnight, Welsh Aurors detected a massive discharge of power from this spot. They mobilised forces and approached the area where… well, Vance?"

Emmeline Vance checked her notepad. "Sixteen wolves sitting unharmed. Twenty-three human bodies surrounding a… golden staff impaled into the ground with thick gold flakes hovering in the air. Toxicity levels are still off the charts."

Reyna frowned. She jerked her chin over at the tall woman in armor who noticed her and walked away from the argument with the other Aurors.

"Hylla?" Reyna asked. "They're saying it's their crime scene."

"It's godly business," Hylla said, her eyes narrowing. "Level Omega."

Annabeth was flabbergasted. The last time something had been categorised as an Omega threat, Typhon had risen and had been fighting the gods.

"What's in the tent?" she demanded.

"Dead bodies and live wolves," Hylla said.

Then she turned on her heel and announced to everyone in the vicinity, "Women only authorised entrance!"

"Fine!" one of the Aurors growled. "Tonks, Vance, get in and get data!"

Hylla headed into the tent first. Annabeth nodded towards Bianca who walked alongside with Reyna flanking.

"Would it kill him to say please?" Tonks muttered, following the demigods with Vance.

Annabeth turned back, meeting Ron's eyes. She glanced over at the male Aurors whispering to each other furiously, hoping he understood her message.

From his disconcerted face, she figured he did.

The Amazonian guards let them in, and Annabeth's eyes adjusted to the scene instantly.

Wolves sat on the grass by the entrance, but they seemed docile. Most were actually asleep, while a few watched them intently.

"Are they either of yours?" Annabeth asked.

"No," Hylla and Bianca said at once. Bianca added, "They were here when we arrived. The Aurors had them behind a forcefield but we removed that."

Reyna observed them closely. "They're not quite adult-sized."

"Just over a year old, all of them," Hylla confirmed. "We think that's why they were left alive."

Annabeth's head swivelled away from the wolves and saw… oh gods.

Several bodies lay strewn about with sheets of white covering them all. They were several yards away from the middle of the tent, which was the oddest sight yet.

A six-foot-long golden staff stuck out of the wet ground at an angle. A concentration of gold flakes fluttered around it, lazily balanced in the air with no purpose of obeying gravity or the wind.

Annabeth smelled ichor in the air. It was unmistakable and pungent, shy of sulphurous and ambrosia.

A blank moment passed through her mind. Why did she smell ichor—

"It's a god," Hylla whispered, and everyone fell silent. "The gold flakes? That's from his body. We think the werewolf god was killed just after midnight."


"So..." Ron drawled as casually as he could. "What's the story here?"

Dawlish was one of the Aurors who were glaring at him. "Weasley! Where's your mate, eh?"

"Travelling," Ron said. "Mr. Dawlish, I have heard a lot about you—"

"Can it!" Dawlish snapped. "Tell your friends to get out! This is our jurisdiction!"

Ron frowned. "I thought it's the local Bailiff's area."

"Same thing!"

"Maybe K… Head Auror Shacklebolt could help?" Ron asked innocently. "He knows Annabeth."

A few of the Aurors murmured to each other, seriously considering Ron's suggestion. Dawlish only looked more peeved.

"If you want to make yourself useful, talk to those guards," Dawlish shrugged.

Ron stared at the 6'3" women, with muscles upon muscles. They looked like they could break him with a single punch. They scowled over to him as though saying, C'mon, punk!

"I'm good," Ron said, staying away.

The Aurors continued discussing, with some of them voting to call in Kingsley.

Ron exhaled, hoping he didn't have to wait too long.

"Hello."

Ron jumped, his hand going for his wand.

A short, blond boy, or man, was standing beside him, amused. He wore a gold jacket that glittered in the soft sunlight. His hair was a mess, growing from a cut that must have been ragged.

"Er… hello," Ron said, quelling his racing heart.

"Did you just arrive?" the boy asked, good-tempered.

"A few minutes ago, yeah… who are you?"

The boy glanced down at his watch. Ron's eyes caught the familiar face of the golden-pink watch. It was a wizard's watch, one that was gifted to a wixen when they turned seventeen. Ron was currently wearing his.

"Do you have, like, five pounds?" the bloke asked.

"No," Ron said.

"Euros? Dollars?"

"No Muggle cash on me," Ron said, shrugging. "I have a few knuts if you really want them."

He considered the offer closely, "It's alright. You might need them."

Ron nodded. "Are you with the Aurors?"

Instead, he answered, "I'm Destin."

The name didn't ring a bell.

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron said.

Destin smiled and shook his hand, "Destin Autis. And no, I'm not with the Aurors. I figure my clothes gave that away."

Ron nodded, warily. "Are you with the Amazons? Or the Hunters?"

"Neither," Destin said, his grin growing wider.

Obviously not, neither groups were the kind to let Destin in. Or were they?

Ron fell silent. Was he supposed to panic? Should he catch the Aurors' attention?

"Are you a wizard?" he asked.

"Why would you think that?" Destin questioned.

"Wizard's watch," Ron pointed out.

Destin held up his hand and rattled the watch like a bangle. "It was a gift."

Ron was more puzzled than worried. "Okay, are you doing this on purpose? Why are you here if you're not with anyone?"

Destin smiled, "I'm giving you company. You seem lonely."

That baffled him even more now. Ron frowned at him, observing him as carefully as he could. "... have we met before?"

Destin chuckled. "I adore your query, Mr. Ron Weasley. Maybe we have met before. Maybe you knew me from a previous life, and here we are again, decades later, meeting for the first time again. How have you been, old friend?"

Ron was trying to formulate an answer.

"You're trying to distract me," Ron decided.

"You think so?" Destin grinned.

"Yes."

"Good guess," Destin said. "I want to get into the tent. But it's nice chatting with you, Mr. Weasley."

He held out his hand, and Ron hesitantly shook it.

Ron blinked. Something was in Destin's hand. It was cold and heavy, clinking within their palms. Destin let go, and Ron found himself holding a golden keychain with a set of keys dangling from it.

Destin winked at him and walked to the tent.

The Aurors paused, staring at him. Ron shoved the keys into his pocket, heart beating fast.

The Amazons glowered down at Destin. They were three times his size with armour and weapons, ready to skewer him.

"Good morning," Destin said cheerfully. "I'm Destin Autis."

"No entry," one of them said.

"Hello, Mx. No-Entry."

She growled. "That's not my name. We are forbidding you to enter."

"Why?" Destin asked, genuinely curious.

"Women only authorised entry," the other guard said.

Destin nodded. "Okay. How do you define a woman?"

They glared.

"Because there's no single definition that cuts out women from the rest of the population, is there? Or do you go by body parts? That's disappointing, Ma'am."

Ron wondered if Destin had a death wish. He spoke like a perpetually happy Harry with all the confidence of Percy. A terrifying combination.

"The entrance is equipped with a lie detector," the first guard snapped. "Declare yourself!"

Destin frowned for the first time. "What if I was confused about being a woman?"

"Are you confused?"

"Maybe a bit," Destin admitted. "But that's part of the fun."

The second guard exhaled very quietly. "Do you think you could be a woman?"

"Oh yes," Destin chirped. "That's definitely one of the things I am!"

Both guards relented and pulled their spears away from the entrance. Destin waved at them and walked through without any more fanfare.

Ron was certainly more confused than Destin, but not as much as Dawlish.

"Who was that?!" Dawlish hissed, practically apparating into Ron's space.

Ron backed away. "I dunno! He said his name was Destin Outis… or Autis."

"You've never seen him before?"

"No," Ron said before shrugging. "Or maybe I have. He wasn't clear about it."

"What else did he say?" Dawlish demanded.

Ron thought about the keys. Instead, he said, "He wants some Muggle cash."

"... what?"

"Five pounds," Ron said, quietly enjoying the mounting frustration on Dawlish's face.


They were staring at the remains of a god. A dead god. Killed by a strange golden staff.

Annabeth's heart stuttered at the idea. She had witnessed the death of a god before. Pan had faded from their lives, disappearing into soft golden mist which drained the life from his cave, leaving behind Grover and Tyson's sobs.

She missed Tyson.

Annabeth exhaled and steeled herself. This corpse in front of them hadn't been the fading of a god. Somebody had killed them.

"Any clues?" Annabeth asked.

Bianca pointed at the staff. "It has to be someone strong enough to wield the staff."

Reyna frowned at the golden staff sticking out of the ground like a lopsided flagpole. "It's imperial gold. Are you saying it was strong enough to kill a god?"

Tonks did a double take. "Excuse me? What d'you mean by kill a god?"

"It's exactly what she said," Hylla said. "The shimmering flakes in the air are from his body."

"Whose?"

"Lycaon's" a quiet voice spoke from the side.

It was then Annabeth spotted an older woman with a tall teen sitting with their backs against the tent. One of the wolves was curled up to the teen, licking his face.

"Hana," Bianca said gently. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yes," Hana sighed. She looked at the boy sitting beside her, "I think Tim needs a check-up."

"I'm fine," Tim mumbled.

Hana scowled. "No, you're not! Not after last night!"

"What happened last night?" Vance asked.

Hana peered up at them. "Greyback had gathered his men to attack the village. We knew this because Tim relayed the information. But I got caught and was taken prisoner. Turns out Greyback was working with Lycaon and his wolves to increase their army."

"Fenrir Greyback," Tonks whispered. "We found his body in the east corner. He seemed to have died first."

"He was," Hana confirmed. "That boy… or man. He was young. He crushed Greyback's spine and beheaded him."

Annabeth frowned. "What man?"

Tim looked up and his jaw dropped. Hana's eyes widened. She pointed to a space behind Annabeth and said, "Him!"

Everyone spun around, suddenly armed to the teeth. The witches had their wands out: Annabeth had her knife, Bianca had her bow and multiple arrows nocked, Hylla wielded her sword, and so did Reyna.

Destin stood there, smiling pleasantly.

"Hello," he said. "I'm Destin Autis."

"How did you get in here?!" Hylla barked.

"I walked in. I won't disturb your crime scene. I'm just here to take my staff."

Annabeth backed away. She'd seen Destin in action, taking on Percy, Harry, and Rachel on his own. She could easily believe he killed Lycaon.

"How?" she asked.

"How did I kill him?" Destin asked, plucking the question out of her head. "Or how am I going to dislodge my staff? It looks wedged into the ground."

"That staff is not yours!" Reyna warned. "That is the golden staff of Metis, later taken by King Jupiter. It is his object of power. Nobody else is allowed to wield it."

Annabeth's grip on her knife tightened. The staff! Perhaps it was a scroll that could open up into a staff for fighting. That would corroborate the carving on the slab from Zeus's statue.

And that's why Hylla had demanded to keep the Aurors out! It wasn't just the disintegrating body of a literal god; it was the unimaginable power of the king's weapon that had to be untouched by mortals and let them crumble to dust.

Destin listened to Reyna's declaration, nodding all the while. "He isn't using it, is he?"

"Who are you?" Bianca asked, her arrows aimed at his head, neck, and chest.

"Destin," he said. "Autis. It's chill. I'm not looking for a fight."

Hana was shaking her head, and Tim was pulling her arm. They were both scrambling away from him.

"You will get one if you don't turn around and walk out," Hylla warned.

Annabeth swallowed tightly. What were they all thinking? Threatening a god killer?

"Ladies," she whispered out of the corner of her mouth. "He's unscathed after the midnight bloodbath. Maybe we shouldn't attack him."

Hylla's mood soured. Reyna stepped back, lowering her sword. Vance relaxed too, still uncertain. Bianca and Tonks kept up their weapons just in case.

"Thank you," Destin said, beaming at them. Then he told Annabeth, "Check with your friend."

What?

Annabeth frowned as Destin walked through them, letting them part way for him. He strolled into the haze of gold dust and gripped the centre of the slanting staff. With a bit of force, he pulled it from the ground.

The staff glowed briefly, sending light into his left arm, which remained in contact. Annabeth barely blinked when she saw the staff collapse expertly into the size of a baton. With a flick of his wrist, it disappeared.

"Evey knows you're safe," Destin said, turning to Hana.

"... she does?"

"Yes, and she's also okay."

Hana gaped, nodding slowly.

"And Mr. Tim Jacobs?" Destin said, addressing the tall teenager who froze. "Be nicer to your aunt."

Tim nodded in terror.

"One more thing," he said, and everyone stiffened.

"Anyone has a fiver?" Destin asked, hopefully.


For the benefit of the Egyptian government, Rachel and Harry were henceforth banned from the city for trying and failing to recover an artifact from the Cairo museum, even though the museum had never said the artifact in question.

The museum employees watched as the Head Auror himself had security escort the two teens through the halls. It was as quiet as a spectacle could be.

"It's impressive that you are friends with the Potters, Mr. Jackson," Arwa said as she showed him and Dumbledore a quieter way to their embassy.

"Thank you?" Percy said, confused.

Arwa smiled. "I recall Omar telling me about your aunt. She died so young. You are about her age now, yes?"

"Yes," Percy muttered.

"How is your mother?" she asked.

"She's okay. She's written two books and has been working in a publishing house for a few years."

Arwa grinned, relieved. "I am pleased to hear that. Does she know about the Potters?"

"Yes. Harry was our neighbour, growing up."

Arwa was surprised. "Lily and James moved near you?"

"No, my Mom and her husband moved to London a year after everything happened here," Percy explained, watching Arwa's incredulous expression grow. "Harry lived next door with his aunt."

"And Ms. Dare?" Arwa asked.

"Rachel was adopted by Mr. and Mrs. Dare," Percy said. "They got separated somehow after Lily and James died."

Arwa looked shocked. She turned to Dumbledore for confirmation, and he nodded.

"We're still uncertain of the events that led to this," Dumbledore spoke. "There are no papers on how Rachel ended up in France with her adoptive family."

Arwa's shock dissolved into suspicion. "I hope you remain vigilant, Mr. Jackson. Such things are not mere coincidences. Someone seems to be pulling strings, and this someone has not been caught out."

Percy nodded stiffly. "We'll figure it out. We always do."


Remus woke up on the morning of the full moon with none of his usual tremors or body aches.

He sat in bed for a moment, distinctly feeling adrift in the cosmos. Like something vital within him had been cut. Perhaps even cut free.

He soon found out the reason, as did everyone known to be affected by lycanthropy. The full moon rose that night and no one transformed.


Stay tuned!

Cabba.