Chapter 17

The Acropolis

The hallway leading to the long-distance Floo Fire was the most crowded one Harry could remember. The hallway was narrow and, with Harry, Ron, Hermione and Kingsley joined by both Harry's security escort and Kingsley's own, they were three deep walking toward their destination.

Harry admittedly did not understand all the logistics of traveling by Floo Powder. He knew certain fires could be added or removed to the network by the Ministry. Certain fires were monitored while others weren't. When it came to international travel, each country had a special fireplace that would effectively make a one-destination Floo Network. If both countries consented, they both did whatever Floo Magic the Ministry did and poof, you had a fireplace connected directly to the other country's Ministry. The fire at the end of this hallway would take them to Athens, Greece.

As they approached the fireplace, Kingsley shouldered his way in front of the security wizards and spoke to a witch that was seated by the fireplace.

"Is everything prepared?" he asked in his slow, deep voice.

"Yes, Minister", she said with a bow of her head. "The Floo is ready for travel right away."

Kingsley nodded then looked back to Harry. "Harry, I…"

"Kingsley, I know. We won't make waves, but we will solve this case."

"Well good luck and be careful", Kingsley said. Then he bowed to the witch by the fireplace. "Let's get them on their way."

The witch took the lid off a large black jar she was holding. Harry was expecting to see emerald-green powder inside, but the powder in the jar was so dark it was almost black. "No need to declare a destination, my dears, for this Floo has only one. Just take a pinch of the powder and step in."

Harry went first. When he tossed a pinch of the powder in the flames turned a greenish black, darker than any other time he used Floo Powder. But, when he stepped into the flames, they felt pleasantly warm as always. Harry tucked his elbows in tightly and felt himself get sucked through the grate.

Harry's first thought was that he'd gone snow blind. His eyes adjusted after a minute and he saw that he was in a great hall constructed entirely of bright, white marble, with the morning sun streaming in. Ornately carved pillars rose up at least fifty feet to support the ceiling. The more Harry looked around, the more there was to see. Many of the pillars were carved in ornate detail and showed fabulous creatures. Some, like phoenixes and centaurs, Harry had encountered firsthand, others, like a Pegasus, he'd only read about.

The far end of the room had a plinth populated by massive statues, with proportions even bigger than Hagrid. But before he had a chance to look further, a whooshing sound and then a yelp of surprise behind him, announced Ron's arrival.

"Blimey it's bright in here. You'd think they'd have curtains or something if the whole building is gonna be white." Ron let out a whistle as his eyes traveled to the domed ceiling, which Harry just realized was an ornate painting. "Hermione's gonna think we took the Floo to heaven."

A second whoosh and Hermione emerged from the fireplace, though she had some kind of dark light covering her eyes. It faded after a few seconds but she seemed completely unaffected by the sudden brightness of their marble surroundings.

"Would it have killed you to do that light…thingy for Harry and me too?"

"Well, Ronald", Hermione said with a glare, "would it have killed you to think about taking some type of precaution? I mean you take a magical portal a thousand miles away to an unknown location, you'd think- ", Hermione let out a shriek. "The Pillars of the Parthenon!" Then she dashed to the nearest pillar without a look back.

"They say that together the pillars tell a story. The sculptures on this pillar are just one chapter of the story, the next pillar continues it, and so on." Hermione reached out her hand to touch the pillar in front of her but snatched her hand back as the centaur depicted on the pillar sprang to life. It reared on its hind legs, let out an equine whinny, and galloped around the pillar.

"My goodness", Hermione whispered. "This magic is far more complex than the enchantments we use on portraits to make them move and talk."

"Quite right, Miss Granger. The Minister will be pleased that you are impressed." A silver-haired man approached them. He was wearing a crisp white toga. Its golden clasp bore the emblem of the Greek ministry: a crown of laurel above a mountain. "I am Charon, Senior Undersecretary to Minister Sophocles. I am to give you a tour of the Ministry and then take you to see the Minister himself."

Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Harry forgot that other Ministries still had that position. The British Ministry repealed the post following the fall of Voldemort. Harry hadn't been fond of the last person to hold it.

But Harry kept these thoughts to himself as he shook Charon's hand. "Pleasure to meet you, I'm Harry Potter."

"I'm afraid your reputation precedes you Mr. Potter", Charon said smiling. "Even in Greece you are famous enough to be recognized on sight. Though it is undoubtedly an honor to meet you in person, sir."

"Call me Harry. And, if it's possible, we'd like to skip the tour and meet with Minister Sophocles as soon as possible."

"But Harry! Surely we should take the tour. Do you know all the incredible magical landmarks in this city? The Acropolis, Hadrian's Library, we're already in the Parthenon!" Hermione's breathing was approaching hyperventilation. "Harry I'm sure you've heard of the Muggle side of ancient Greece, but the wizarding side is even more impressive." Harry opened his mouth but Hermione cut him off. "Shouldn't we at least investigate the Temple of Olympian Zeus? Muggle historians obviously claim it was built to honor Zeus, but most magical historians believe the temple was built to Herpo. Surely we must investigate it."

"I'm sure everything is incredible, Hermione, but do you remember why we're here? Gruesome murder, madman on the loose – does that ring a bell? We're already behind and I don't want to waste the little time we do have."

Hermione looked on the verge of arguing, but Ron responded first. "Yeah, isn't the Parthenon a Muggle building? I swear it's a Muggle attraction – how is it that you have these magical pillars and fireplaces hooked up to the Floo Network?"

"An excellent question, Mr. Weasley", Charon said. "This building is not unlike your Platform Nine and Three Quarters. A wizard-only location in the middle of a Muggle thoroughfare. We have a similar magical barrier – completely inaccessible to Muggles but barely an inconvenience for witches and wizards. Much of Muggle and magical history is intertwined, our ancestors thought it best that this place reflected that."

"We're already here", Ron said. "Might as well get the tour of the Parthenon before we meet the Minister." Harry glared at him but Ron just shrugged back.

"Fine. Charon, we'll just do the Parthenon."

"Very well. If you'll follow me."

Hermione sprang to Charon's side and was already asking about the Charms used to animate the pillars before Harry had even moved. Ron clapped a hand on Harry's back and whispered, "Sorry mate. Happy wife, happy life."

Harry's annoyance at the delay was quickly replaced by wonder. The magical side of the Parthenon truly was incredible. The statues Harry had seen earlier were of Greece's original pantheon – the witches and wizards that had defeated Herpo the Foul and founded what was now the Greek Ministry. Several of them were known to Muggles as gods and goddesses. Foremost among these were Apollo, a bald wizard with a short beard and thickly muscled chest, and Hera, who looked as fierce as she was beautiful.

Hermione asked dozens of detailed questions about each one, but Harry just stared at the statues. They could move, though they seemed incapable of actually leaving the dais they were on. They could speak too. They spoke in Greek (Harry assumed) and in surprisingly quiet voices given their size. Harry felt that giant, mobile statues made of marble and speaking an incomprehensible language should be terrifying. But he just stood there transfixed. They were beautiful.

"What are the statues saying? Do they have pre-determined phrases, or do they have the ability craft original thoughts?"

"Interesting question, Miss Granger", Charon said. "The statues don't 'speak'. They whisper only in your head. It's truly an incredible spell, a form of Legilimency. They say something different to everyone they encounter. Their messages may be as mundane as commenting on your clothes or as serious as warning against an impending disaster. I would offer to translate whatever it is you hear, but I'm afraid that is frowned upon. Messages from the Pantheon are considered highly personal and I could not offer that insult to such esteemed guests as yourself."

Hermione nodded and scribbled frantically on the roll of parchment in her hand. She closed her eyes and appeared to listen intently. Harry was sure that she was trying to memorize the message in her head so she could attempt to translate it later. But Harry was thinking about a member missing from the Pantheon – the one they were so famous for defeating, in fact. The image of Herpo the Foul at the crime scene had also been larger than life. It was an image meant to impress and intimidate, similar to the statues of the Pantheon. Was the killer familiar with the Pantheon? Had he intentionally created Herpo in a similar style?

After the Pantheon they got the full tour of the Pillars of the Parthenon. The Pillars did in fact tell a complete story: the Legend of the Taming of Greece. Legends said that when mankind first came to Greece, it was overrun by monsters. Chimeras, minotaurs, cyclops, and worse. Powerful wizards fought side-by-side with brave Muggle heroes to drive out the beasts and settle Greece. Harry had to admit, the Pillars told a compelling story – better than anything he'd seen on Muggle television.

As they came to the final Pillar, a woman wearing a toga in the same style as Charon approached the group and whispered something in Charon's ear. He nodded. "Lady and gentlemen, I apologize but there is a slight change in plans. The Minister is ready to see you now. If you are ready, I can take you to him right away."

"We're ready", Harry said before Hermione could get a word in. "Take us to the Minister."

"I'm afraid the Minister is not currently in the Ministry. He's at the Menagerie, which is located at the foot of Mount Olympus."

Hermione let out an excited gasp. Ron glanced at her and then asked, "Is that close?"

"Of course not, Ron! Mount Olympus is over 200 miles away from Athens."

"Correct, Miss Granger", Charon said with a smile. "It is a bit of journey and, if you're not opposed, we might use a classic Greek mode of transportation." Charon led them up a winding staircase that took them to the roof of building. Charon led them to the near edge of the roof and Hermione shot a nervous glance at the ground below. Personally, Harry enjoyed the breeze up here. It almost felt like flying.

Sitting on the very edge of the roof, were four pairs of golden sandals. They looked like sandals Harry had seen on depictions of gladiators – made of several straps that extended up the calf. But most remarkably, each sandal had a pair of wings extending out from the heel. White wings that were about three feet long. Harry felt his stomach drop, just like it did every time he thought of Hedwig.

For what felt like the hundredth time today, Hermione couldn't contain a gasp of excitement. "Talaria", she said in a reverent whisper. "But these are so rare. There are less than a dozen rumored to be in existence."

Ron cleared his throat. "And just so Harry knows, what are Talaria?"

"Magical sandals, Ron. They grant the wearer the ability to fly at incredible speeds, some estimate more than triple that of the fastest racing brooms. Muggle mythology states that these belonged to the Greek god Hermes, and he would use them to send messages to the other gods." Suddenly Hermione clapped a hand to her mouth. "We're not going to use these to fly, are we?"

Charon chuckled. "Right again, Miss Granger. If you decide to stay here in Greece I'm afraid you'll put me out of a job. The plan is to fly to the Menagerie using the Talaria. But if you are uncomfortable, we could find other means of transportation."

"No, let's use the Talaria", Harry said at once.

"Hell yeah", Ron agreed, his excited face mirroring Harry's own.

Triple the speed of a racing broom, that sounded…fun. "Ten galleons says I get there first."

Ron grinned. "You're on."

"I don't think it's a good idea to race with rare, magical transports we've never used before", Hermione said. But Harry and Ron were already strapping on their Talaria.

"Well, Hermione. If you want to stop us, you'll have to catch us first." Harry pulled his Talaria tight, then turned to Charon. "Which way to the Menagerie?"

"Straight on over that hill. In about fifteen minutes, you should be able to see Mount Olympus on the horizon. The Menagerie is located on the eastern slope, near ground level."

Hermione cleared her throat nervously. "If it's all the same to you, Charon, I think I'd prefer to Apparate to the Menagerie."

"Of course, Miss Granger. That will also give us the opportunity to witness the result of this forthcoming race."

Ron straightened up, his own Talaria tied tight. "Ready when you are, Harry."

"Charon, do you mind starting this race?"

He grinned. "Gentlemen. On your marks…get set…go!"

Harry leapt off the roof. For a split second he just fell. Then he felt a tingling starting in his feet and running through his entire body. He grinned, pushed his right foot down, then felt himself get launched into the air. His joy was short lived: he went straight up in the air…then began to fall back down. He desperately slammed his left foot down and the Talaria responded immediately, thrusting him back up the way he had come.

Harry glanced to his right and saw that Ron was doing no better. Somehow he had turned upside down and looked as though he was trying to jump towards the ground. Harry grinned but the smile was instantly wiped off his face as he fell again. He felt as though he were trying to tread water with rockets strapped to his feet. Following that thought, Harry spread his arms wide and moved his feet gently, as if he was treading water. He floated nearly motionless in midair, calm even if he wasn't in complete control. This was different than a broom – on a broom the rider was in complete control. With the Talaria, it was more like riding a current.

Harry began, tentatively at first, orienting himself horizontal and angled himself towards the horizon that would lead towards Mount Olympus. His mind still comparing this to water, Harry swam, arms and legs attempting a breaststroke a hundred yards in the air. Harry imagined he looked like a swimmer getting his first ever lesson, but looking awkward was nothing new to him – and the swimming strokes were working, he was picking up speed. This was going to be easy. He glanced towards Ron but just saw empty air.

"What's the matter, Harry? Realize you're only fast on a broom?"

Somehow Ron had accelerated thirty yards in front of Harry. In contrast to Harry, Ron stood vertically (right-side-up now) and was taking big sweeping strides, like an ice skater. Harry gritted his teeth and chased after him, but Ron's lead widened. Ice skaters were faster than swimmers, Harry had to try something new.

Harry remained prone – a lifetime of Quidditch had taught him the value of minimizing wind resistance – but he changed his approach. He could feel the wings on each sandal beating. They didn't beat in unison, but there was a pattern. He was losing precious time but he forced himself to remain calm and focus on the wing beats. He moved his legs one at a time, as through climbing a horizontal staircase.

He pushed his right foot down just as the wings beat and was thrust forward. He did the same with his left foot and received a similar rush of speed. Right, left, right, left, right, left. Ron was so far ahead he was little more than a speck on the horizon, but Harry smiled – he was catching up.

Harry continued his horizontal march (thinking absurdly of Aunt Petunia on her Stairmaster) and found he had some control over the wings. With some concentration, he could tuck the wings in when he stepped forward, making him more aerodynamic, then fan them out only when he pushed back. He didn't feel awkward anymore. And the figure that was Ron kept growing larger. But so did Mount Olympus.

When Ron was less than twenty yards ahead, Harry saw it – a wide, circular platform on the side of the mountain that reminded Harry of a helipad. They were nearly there. Ron had seen it too and glanced over his shoulder at Harry. Harry knew Ron would look back again to track Harry's progress, so he veered slightly up and to the left, putting a cloud between himself and Ron.

Harry raced the length of the cloud and, when he was certain the platform was directly below him, he pulled into a vertical dive. Ron started at Harry's sudden reemergence and his hesitation allowed Harry to draw dead even with him. Harry's legs worked furiously, muscles nearly seizing up – in the corner of his eye he saw Ron's much longer legs doing the same. It was going to be close…

Ron lunged forward and touched down an instant before Harry.

"Hah!" He exclaimed. "Stick to brooms, Harry!"

A round of applause broke out before Harry could reply. "Excellent! Excellent! Two naturals with the talaria!"

A middle-aged man was the source of the booming voice. His formal toga and clasp were the same as Charon's. A crown of real laurel rested upon his dark, grey-streaked hair.

"With long legs like yours, my friend, you've the perfect build for speed." His English was perfect, not a trace of an accent. "We need to keep you Brits out of the talaria racing circuit, lest you take all our glory!" He gave a booming laugh and clasped Ron's hand. "Our winner is Mr. Weasley, I presume?"

"Minister Sophocles", he replied, slightly out of breath, and made a small bow of his head. "Please call me Ron."

The Minister barked out another genuine laugh. After another vigorous shake of Ron's hand, he turned to Harry.

"Minister Sophocles", Harry said, proffering his own hand. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person."

The Minister didn't look pleased at all. Indeed, Harry had never seen a smile slide off someone's face so quickly.

"Harry Potter." His voice was quiet now. "We have statues of everyone here in Greece: gods, heroes, politicians. There's a famous face in every room. Yet yours is more recognizable than any of them." He took slow steps towards Harry.

"Harry Potter", he said again, eyes staring at the scar on Harry's forehead. "The Chosen One. Defeated the Dark Lord. Saved the world." He took another step forward and he and Harry were nearly nose to nose. "But that was then. Now he's an international politician. Voting to impose tariffs on Greek imports, refusing to return artifacts your ancestors stole from ours, and generally ruining a thousand years of amicable relations between our nations. I assure you, the pleasure is all yours." He broke into a big, fake smile and finally shook Harry's hand.

Kingsley had described Minister Sophocles as "erratic". Harry would describe him as "an asshole". Harry clenched his jaw but otherwise managed to suppress his anger.

"Minister Sophocles, I promise that no one bears you any ill will - neither Britain nor me personally. To act as though I'm constantly voting against Greece's interests -"

"Of course you're not. Only when you actually show up."

Hermione gasped. Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Don't rise. Remember what Kingsley said. Stay diplomatic.

"We could discuss international diplomacy all day. That's not why I'm here."

"No, you're here because my son is dead. Found dead in cellar half the world away." He hesitated. "Did - did you bring his body?"

"I'm sorry, our forensics team is still examining it. I promise we will bring it as soon as possible."

"Then how do I know this dead man you found was truly my son?"

Harry pulled the wand Tim and Abraxas had found out of his robes. Abnormally long and curved. The Wand of Zeus.

Minister Sophocles took the wand without speaking. He stared at it for a full minute, turning it over in his fingers. Then he abruptly looked up, as though surprised there were other people present. He cleared his throat.

"Charon. Please take this to…its rightful place. I'll take our guests from here." Charon came forward, took the Wand of Zeus, bowed and left.

"Hah!" Harry flinched at the unexpected laugh from the Minister. He suddenly lunged at Harry, who reached in his robes for his own wand - but the Minister clasped both his hands around Harry's and shook vigorously.

"The Wand of Zeus returned! Well done, Potter, well done!" He yanked Harry closer and pulled him into a one-armed hug, mussing Harry's hair as though Harry was his favorite nephew. "There will be a celebration tonight! A feast for our honored guests!"

After fifteen seconds that felt like a lifetime, Minister Sophocles released him. Harry shot a look of equal parts confusion and annoyance at the Minister, but he'd already turned around. The Minister addressed the rest of his retinue. "Tonight we will have a feast so grand it's like has not been seen since Zeus held his Wand himself! Empty our stores, prepare every delicacy we have and procure a river of wine. Postpone every appointment I have this week, for the feast won't end for seven days!"

Flabbergasted, Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione for support. Ron was (unsuccessfully) trying to stifle his laughter at Harry's hair, but Hermione spoke up.

"Minister Sophocles", she said with a polite bow. "We're pleased to have returned your artifact and contributed to your current joy in any way, but we have not come here for a feast. We've come here to investigate the murder of your son. We believe you may have some information that could help bring his killer to justice."

"Bah, surely that can wait", he said with a wave of his hand.

Now Hermione was lost for words. Ron had stopped laughing. Harry replied. "I'm sorry, Minister, but I'm afraid this is time sensitive. Urgent, in fact. We have reason to believe the culprit may kill again. We need your help."

The Minister rolled his eyes. "Don't you see? The Wand of Zeus is returned! There is nothing to fear! I expect this killer will simply turn himself in now." Harry was strongly reminded of Luna Lovegood on those occasions when she had absolute conviction in the existence of impossibilities like the Crumple-Horned Snorckak.

"I'm afraid I must insist, Minister. We need to continue our investigation as soon as possible."

"Oh alright", the Minister whined like a child agreeing to eat their vegetables before dessert. "We'll answer all your very important questions today. So! First the Menagerie, then your investigative questions, and then the feast!"

"But, Minister - "

"No, no, don't start! Our trip to the Menagerie must come first, there can be no debate on that. But if you're worried about time, we'll go right now. Council, make way!" The Minister dashed towards his retainers and led them, skipping, down the stone path.

"What. The hell. Was that?" Ron and Hermione had joined Harry watching the Minister prance down Mount Olympus. Harry just shook his head.

"He didn't seem too upset about the death of his son", Hermione said.

Ron snorted. "Yeah, bloke's only one step above those animals that eat their young. But, then again, what's the death of child compared to the return of an old stick?"

"Hermione, do you know anything about the Wand of Zeus?" Harry asked. "The report from Ollivander implied that the Wand hadn't performed a spell in centuries. I get that it's an important heirloom and all, but he seemed way too excited for an object that he'll just put on a shelf."

"I certainly don't know more than Mr. Ollivander", Hermione admitted. "The Wand is referenced frequently as an important historical artifact and there is much speculation about its origins. But other than its ceremonial passing to the new Minister, I can't think of any mention of anyone actually using the Wand, at least in recent centuries."

Harry's thoughts drifted to Marvolo Gaunt of all people. Dumbledore had said he'd valued his family's heirlooms, Slytherin's Locket and the Peverell's ring, more than his own daughter. Voldemort had prized those heirlooms too - he'd killed for them, then framed others for the murders. Had something similar happened here? Had the son stolen the precious Wand of Zeus, then the father killed him and framed someone else?

"POTTER!" Harry jumped at the impossibly loud voice. "I THOUGHT YOU WERE IN A HURRY! HAH! COME!" The Minster's voice sounded as if it was coming from directly behind him no matter which way he turned, but he could see the Minister down the hill about a hundred yards away.

"Oh goodness!" Hermione said looking both flustered and impressed. "He must have a Correspondence Charm to create a sympathetic link between his voice and this platform. That's very advanced magic!"

"It's very annoying magic", Ron said with his fingers in his ears. "But are we really going to go to a zoo with this nut job instead of investigating the murder and, ya know, finding the killer?"

Harry shrugged. "What else can we do? We need his help and it would certainly help if he was in a good mood."

Ron grunted but Hermione smiled. "The Olympic Menagerie is supposed to be one of the best in the world. It could be very educational. Perhaps if this goes well we could implement an annual field trip for Care of Magical Creatures students at Hogwarts. I think Hagrid would like that. Plus we could use an international component in the curriculum. We haven't had an organized international inter school event since, well, the Tri Wizard Tournament", she finished with a glance at Harry.

"We'll let's hope this particular trip doesn't also end with the rebirth of a Dark lord and the death of a Hogwarts champion", Harry said darkly. None of them spoke again until they caught up to the Minister and his retainers.

The Minister's sunny mood lasted the entire forty-five-minute trek along -

"The side of a mountain!" Ron panted, out of breath. "Why couldn't we have just flown the whole way there?"

"Oh, Ron", Hermione sighed. "Seven years at Hogwarts and a few more at the Ministry and you're still surprised there are places you can't approach by magic. I'm sure the Menagerie has anti-apparition spells, as well as enchantments preventing travel by portkey or other magical means."

"Honored guests!" Minister Sophocles called. "Welcome, to the Olympic Menagerie!" He beckoned them towards a giant marble arch that seemed to lead directly into the mountain. It looked so out of place – a finely carved doorway in the middle of the wilderness. It was pitch black inside. A cave? The Minister let out one final bark of a laugh and walked through it. Harry glanced at Ron then marched through the arch after the Minister.

Two seconds of pitch blackness followed by noon-bright sunlight. Unlike his arrival at the Parthenon, Harry was not blinded at all. He was standing in a…what exactly? He thought he should have been in a cavern, but his eyes told him he was in a grassy field in the middle of summer. To his left was a field of deep red flowers. There were cypress trees in the distance swaying in a gentle breeze. Above him was the bluest sky he'd ever seen.

"Welcome to the Olympic Menagerie!"