Disclaimer: I don't own HP or PJO in any way or form.

AN-1: I have a P*T*R*N, where you can read the NEXT SEVEN CHAPTERS right now if you wish to, just follow the link on the profile.

AN-2: Apologies for the delay, but I had broken my finger and couldn't type. Next update might be Phantom or TIC.

"See you next year Harry," Fred grinned as he tossed a small box towards him, "and that is for those prankster friends of yours back in America. Let's see how they like the British merchandise shall we?"

"I will," he chuckled, catching the brightly painted box and eyeing the label. "'Tears of laughter'...sounds morbid."

"It is," George nodded sagely as he slung an arm around his shoulder, looking up at him with a frown on his face. "You know, it is times like these which remind me of how freakishly tall you are."

"I just got my puberty early," he shrugged, before eyeing the licorice wand in Geroge's other hand, "and I didn't eat junk most of the time too."

"Ugh, not this again," Fred groaned, rolling his eyes as they saw the carriages approach from the shadows of the forest. "I have heard enough on health and sweets from my parents to last me a few lifetimes. I don't need another person harping on about it."

"Tell me that when your teeth fall off," he drawled, removing Fred's hands from his shoulder as he picked up his trunk. "At the rate you are going, I doubt you would have any left before Hogwarts is completed."

"Says the guy who keeps eating treacle tarts like it is the end of the world."

"It's…different," he hedged, avoiding eye contact with the twins as he felt their grins grow by an inch. And he was right, Harry thought petulantly, Treacle Tarts were the best thing on Hogwarts menu. Period, "Are you guys gonna do anything during the holidays?"

"Work on our products, and play some quidditch with Bill and Charlie," came the response from George as a carriage stopped in front of them, and Harry eyed the Thestral warily. It had come as a shock to him to know that no one else around him could see the greyish-black, skeletal steeds…but then a trip to the library had resolved the issue quite easily for him. Of course, no normal eleven-year-old would have seen a death up close and personal. Fred and George on the other hand, had taken his ability to view the mysterious creatures in stride—and after a moment of silence to contemplate on what viewing Thestrals meant for him, had started to crack jokes again. The one about how he could ride an invisible horse of death to rescue some damsel in particular had managed to make him laugh too.

Who knew the twins could weave stories and tales as interesting as Chiron himself.

"You could come over if you want," Fred offered with a shrug, his eyes flicking over to George. "You would enjoy chatting with Bill if you are also interested in ancient ruins and languages. Last I checked, he was also going through the Greek stuff."

"I will have to check in with my caretaker there, and Aunt Hestia," he shook his head, before grimacing as he remembered the rest of the camp. "And…I doubt I would get the time. I have a lot of responsibilities back home."

"What? Cleaning up after your little siblings?" George raised an eyebrow, miming a little child vomiting as Fred chuckled. Harry rolled his eyes at them, which only made it worse as the freckled ginger continued with a side-eye, "Ickle Harry wipes the babies clean and changes nappies! How cute?!"

Glaring at the students who had heard their words and started to chuckle too, Harry climbed up into the carriage with the tips of his ears burning with embarrassment, and the image of him wiping away a child's littering, Harry made a solemn vow of zapping the twin's brains into mush.

And then throwing them into the Black Lake.

Or the Forbidden Forest.

"Brat," the old, unwelcome, and familiar voice of Taranis echoed in the waiting rooms of Kings Cross, and Harry sighed as he looked up from the comic in his hands, finding the old Celtic god looming above him. The man was dressed sharply in formal attire, his beard trimmed and styled like a posh nobleman as his sapphire blue eyes roved over the mortals around them, before alighting back on his own. "Lady Hestia won't be coming today, and neither are any from your father's retinue. Come with me."

"What happened to Hestia?" He asked, surprise coloring his tone as he stood up, dropping the comic beside him as Taranis turned around, his cane tapping against the floor. The world shifted before him, and an instant later, Harry found himself standing before a familiar sight.

One that was even more unwelcome than Taranis.

"...What the fuck?" he muttered, standing beneath a tree as a dog ran through the park before him, where a familiar set of swings moved slowly in the win. "Why are we here of all places?"

"All dues must be paid, Son of Lily," Taranis muttered softly, and yet, his words seemed to surround him as Harry found himself in Little Whinging, the streets and houses he had once run through in terror and diminishing hope staring back at him. "Years ago, you lived here with your Aunt. And then one day, you struck them down when you awakened."

"Wouldn't have needed to if anyone did their jobs properly," he responded, unable to keep the bite out of his voice as he looked at the house right before them. 'Number 24, one of Dudley's bootlickers' he thought, looking at the god out of the corner of his eyes the next moment. "Don't judge me when it was my back that bled in that prison. I am a lot of things, but a murderer isn't one of them."

"Tis not my place to judge you demigod, and neither am I naming you a murderer," Taranis said back, and a weathered, bony hand landed on his shoulder, as light as a feather, but Harry could hear the silent command of the Celtic deity in the thunder that roared overhead, "The Tuatha Dé Danann does not concern it with the matters of other pantheons unless the laws of our land are broken. And neither do we meddle in the affairs of wizards. The non-magicals had left us behind for Christianity for the most part, and they enjoy that freedom from us. We are gods, aye, but we are not omniscient. We only came to know of you when you had your awakening, and summoned a part of my domain down in your anger."

"Why are we here then? Why bring me here now?" he asked after a moment of silence, turning his head in the direction of Number 40, the sight of smoke rising from the charred remains of that house still fresh in his mind after four years, "Is it because they were your subjects and I killed them using my demigod powers?"

"No, we could care less about a bunch of scum like them dying to their own mistakes…but what I care about is that you used my domain, in my lands. And the fact that you left your work incomplete."

"What do you mea-bloody hell…I left a Remnant behind?!"

"You did," Taranis nodded, pointing at a sickly cat slinking through the fence by their left, "Your aunt carried magical blood within her, unawakened though it was. And when struck by the fragment of divine power you had unleashed, it mingled and reacted chaotically. This is the reason why wizards and the divine don't mingle, Son of Lily. Both are beings of the abstract, playing with the strings of reality as they please—within bounds sure, but even they can be broken."

"That doesn't explain why she had turned into an undead bitch," he shook his head, remembering the lore and the half-torn image of a Remnant he had seen in the camp's bestiary. However, as his mind put the last memory he had of Petunia against the venom-spewing, shrieking, rotted corpse of Remnant, he sighed. "Not that she wasn't before, but still."

"Intent. You wished her dead, and she wished to remain behind for some reason related to you," Taranis explained as the day suddenly turned into night, and Harry saw a lightning bolt drop from the sky in the direction of his old residence. It cut through the darkness slowly, each spark and branch of each burning through the blackness behind as Harry remembered the moment vividly. "The vileness of her thoughts, whatever they may have been, combined with the rage and hate in your energy…it burned through the pieces of her corpse hours after her death. Arawn received only the tatters of her soul, while the other three were fully intact, and were sent off to the Undead One based on your father's energy being found the reason for their death. The remaining pieces of her soul however, boiled and churned together in the mess of energies left behind in the wake of the destruction, soaking up the magic and latching onto her mortal shell."

"And she has been feeding on everything here for years," he muttered, as the bolt finished dropping in, and a flash of light lit up the world for a moment as the ground shook beneath them, the sound of explosion echoing for seconds to come as he closed his eyes. "Why not destroy her yourself? I doubt the non-interference is so important that you would leave her to fester and prey upon the mortals for so long."

"The Tuatha Dé Danann does not have a band of demigods hunting for monsters across our lands anymore, for we do not frolic with the mortal akin to your lot," Taranis snorted, and even Harry had to wince at the clear derision in the god's voice. But the words rang true, especially with just how out of sorts the Hermes Cabin had gotten recently. Giving him a measured look, the deity smoothed a wrinkle in his coat as he continued. "And neither does Cernunnos employ a group of empowered brats to hunt for monsters, as we rarely have any. Most which do pop up, and are taken care of by the magical creatures, or the wizards themselves."

"And the muggles that died due to her rot?"

"Thirteen so far," Taranis mused, as with a tap of his cane, the world returned to normal, and the sun shined upon them once more. "Based on the rumors and newspaper reports, the people claim this to be a haunted spot, and supposedly, it is your spirit that haunts this place. Very few humans still live in this area, if at all. Your aunt spends most of her time wailing and flying around in search of anything to devour, while the splinters of her soul long for your presence. Nowadays, it is mostly stray animals and 'ghostbusters' who are her prey, but even that has dwindled as her presence carves itself into the land. Most of the Little Whinging had moved away within the first month—and five deaths. The fact that your body wasn't found amongst the rubble and pieces of your relatives certainly helped the belief."

"Well, time to get to work," he muttered, willing his xiphos to his hand as he took a step towards Number 40, however, Taranis' fingers once again clutched his shoulder, stopping him in tracks. Looking up at the god, Harry let the bewilderment in his thoughts show as he grumbled. "What now?"

"Your demigod powers are not returned to you yet," came the response, and indeed, Harry could feel the diminished pool of energy, still out of reach unlike how he had expected. "The laws are still in effect."

"Then how am I to fight a Remnant?" He narrowed his eyes, flicking a hand in the direction of his undead aunt. "I doubt a punch would get the job done."

"That is your task," the Storm god returned swiftly, his swirling grey eyes turning towards him before he vanished into the wind. "You have until sundown, Son of Lily."

"Bloody hell, that's awful," he muttered, coming to a stop in front of the place where his aunt's house had stood. Nothing more than a blackened crater with a few dead plants here and there, the place looked like nothing more than a simple blast zone to an unassuming muggle. To a wizard or a demigod? The place looked like a scene from some horror fantasy. Skulls and bones were scattered across the place, and overgrown plants that littered her once pristine garden were decorated with spines and ribs like some twisted parody of how Petunia had covered them with lights and sparkles in the Christmas season.

Poisonous green light shone through the cracks in the ground, and now that he was practically standing atop the ruin, he could finally feel the foulness that permeated the land here. It crawled over his skin like sticky, oily grime, and with every breath he took, it felt like more and more rotten sulfur was entering his lungs. "Damn, Best House in the Neighborhood goes to Petunia Dursley."

Stepping through the rotted fencing, Harry kicked over a bone aside, staring at the animal's skeleton as he walked towards the center. "Now, where the hell is she?" he muttered, his fingers itching to hold his xiphos again as adrenaline began to flow through his veins, his eyes flicking over in every direction for any hint of the Remnant, "Come on out aunty, time for a reunion!"

"Haaa-rrrryyy" a whisper echoed in the silence of the evening around him, and Harry tensed as he felt a magical presence slowly gather to his right. Turning his eyes to the spot, he watched the glowing green embers on the dead plants and soil around him rise and coalesce into a swirling mass of pulsing energy, the very air around him growing more… oppressing and toxic by the second as the Remnant took form.

Bits and pieces of bones joined the chaotic mess, and Harry jumped back as the skull beneath his foot too shot toward the forming body. "Wish it been a dog's," he muttered spitefully, raising his hand, his palm facing the now almost formed body of his undead aunt, "Or better yet, that rabid bitch Marge."

"Haarrryyyyy" it whispered yet again as the spectral monster finished forming, the skull's eye holes glowing with an ominous, viridian light, as the spines and bones around him floated over to form its staff, "Yoouuuuu….kkiilll-"

A blasting spell shot out of his palm towards her, blitzing through the air before another syllable could be uttered and striking her right in the middle of her chest. With a crackle of bone being shattered, her form blasted outwards a wave of emerald energy, only to pull back together just as quickly. Harry sighed at that, staring down at the monster before him. 'Of course, it wouldn't be that easy,' he thought with a grimace, shooting another spell at the Remnant, only for it to swerve out of the way like it had all the time in the world to do so. 'Now, what can I do against here? What the fuck did that Bestiary say about Remnants? A whole lot of poison and rot, and undead creatures that hunt anything smaller than them.'

The next moment, he was forced to duck as a stream of poisonous vapors shot towards him from half a dozen directions, one even coming from directly below him as he jumped backward. The pungent odor nearly made his nose burn off, and tears burned in his eyes as Harry scrunched them shut. He paid for it dearly, as the next moment, his head snapped back from the impact of her staff against his cheek. A coldness seeped through his skin from the point of impact, and Harry winced as he felt his flesh rot away enough for even his tongue to feel from the inside of his mouth. It hurt like hell, to feel his flesh wither away in a matter of moments, but it had nothing on the feeling of the Hydra's venom ripping through his body.

"Miiiiinnnnne!" the creature hissed as he blindly stumbled back, his foot catching on a stray bone. It was only due to his instincts that he managed to dive sideways, the barely there perception he had the magic around him letting him know of the stream of acidic poison launched at him. Opening his eyes to glare at the Remnant, Harry jumped to his feet and shot another spell at the spectral monster, his mind running a dozen thoughts at once even as it dodged the stunner easily. Even though he had known it beforehand, it was still a daunting task to fight without his usual skills and powers as he floundered for a way to stop the onslaught of the poisonous vapors and incoming attacks for a moment. Ever since he had held a sword in hand, it had always been his demigod body and the powers that came from his father against the monsters he faced. But here? In the land of the Celts he was severely limited as he could only use the magic that his mother had used, and even then, it had only been a year since he had started formal training in it.

"Fucking bitch! Can't even die peacefully can you?!" he snarled, summoning his wand to his hand and pointing it at the reanimated collection of bones in front of him, "Incendio!"

A roaring gout of flames erupted from his wand, burning away the green miasma of venom that lingered upon the ground as the fire raced toward his target. The orange-white light shone through the growing darkness around him, and Harry delighted in the hiss that came from the Remnant. "You don't like the heat? Or the light?" he shouted, pouring even more power into his spell, making it become something far more than a simple Incendio as he willed it to burn brighter and hotter, the orange turning to a much paler shade as Harry felt sweat form on his brow. Around him, the already dead vegetation began to ignite on itself as the temperature rose, and so did the incoherent, hateful screeching of the Remnant as he saw a tongue of a fire lick at her heels.

"Ssstuupidd boy!" she shrieked, and Harry watched her slam her staff into the ground, waves of dark green magic racing out towards him as she vanished in a swirl of viridian, "Youuu kkilled Duddleeyy!"

"Not like you weren't choking his veins to death with all that cholesterol and sugar already!" he called out, whipping his wand across his front to create a shield as he looked around. Wincing as he felt the Remnant's magic push and corrode away at the shield. Cutting off his flames, Harry raised his wand upwards and channeled his power into it, casting one of the first spells Flitwick had taught them, "Lumos Solem!"

Closing his eyes as the evening turned into day, Harry willed the sphere of light to float above. His shield buckled on his left, and Harry grimaced as the rotten, pungent smell of the Remnant invaded his nose yet again, its staff screeching across his shield. Cracks splintered across the barely visible surface, and he glared into the soulless, manic pools of poison that were now his undead aunt's eyes, "Die already you crone, I don't want to stay in this place a second longer!"

"Freak!" the Remnant's shriek echoed in the compound, and his shield shattered like glass , leaving him surprised and completely defenseless in the face of the claws that appeared from his left. He moved as soon as he felt his shield be unmade, but lacking even a tenth of his demigod constitution…it wasn't enough. The claws, nothing more than brittle, age-old bones tore through his clothes and skin like it was wet paper, the magic holding the skeleton together burning away his flesh and clothes in a flash of acid and rot, "Freeakkk! Freak! Freak! Freak!"

"Yea-Yeah?" he grunted, holding up a hand to his abdomen. Thankfully, she hadn't managed to wound him too deeply, and the magic in her claws had burned the wound shut. With acid sure, but at least he wasn't bleeding from his stomach, and who needed kidneys anyways? Ignoring the lance of agony that shot through his whole abdomen, Harry looked around himself. He needed to end this soon. Light and fire were keeping away the Remnant, but he didn't know if it was going to kill her or not, but her attacks could kill him. Not in one shot sure, but chip away at a rock enough, and it turns to dust eventually. "At least I am not clinging to life like the miserable bitch you are, Petunia!"

"Dead!Dead!DeAD!DEAD!"

Another stream of poison came at his back, and Harry barely cast a clypeus in time, wringing his arm back to block it with the arm-shield. Even as he jumped forward and kept looking around for any hint of the creature in the now-brightened crater, his mind kept running through any speck of information that might help him. The remnant was magical in nature, and it had no heart or brain holding it together. There were no organs to destroy, so the only thing left was magical attacks. But even then, he doubted blasting it with a bombarda was going to have any lasting effect, not when he had already tried a smaller version beforehand.

'Spectres mostly have a tether, binding them to the mortal coil even after their passing' Chiron's words came back to him suddenly, and Harry's eyes widened as remembered that day. A son of Hermes had fallen in a skirmish a few miles away, and somehow returned as a poltergeist to the camp. He had been struck down when Chiron had shot the locket floating around his neck, and explained to all of them what it took to defeat the undead, 'Look for something connecting them to this world, or in some cases, something they have created over time to be their anchor.'

'Nothing of the house is left for it to be of use, and I doubt Dudley's or her bones are still lying around in here' he thought, spotting the Remnant swirl into existence once again, floating beyond the edge of the crater, hiding behind a slab of wood as his lumos shone above him. Even though her face lacked expressions, and her eyes were nothing more than eerily glowing pools of the magic that held her together, Harry had no trouble realizing that she was giving him the same hateful, disgust-filled sneer she had possessed when she had been alive. The lumos was stopping her physical attacks for now, but even that wasn't going to be an option for long with how much it was draining him to keep the light active and floating, along with shielding at the same time—and of course, the fact that he was also pushing his magic into healing his wounds at the same time. Glancing at the staff in her hands, the spines twisting around femurs and forearms in a morbid display, Harry felt like tearing his hair out in frustration. The staff couldn't be her tether, otherwise, she wouldn't swing it around, and neither would it be scattered around on the grou…oh for fucks sake!

"Thirteen so far" Taranis' words came back to him, and Harry looked around himself, the bleached, dirt-covered bones of the Remnant's kills scattered all over the ground. The people she had killed ever since reforming, their death was the source of her power, a portion of their souls devoured by her to keep herself attached to this realm.

"In magic, we have three numbers who stand above the rest, due to how they affect the world around them. These are 3, 7, and 13."

"Thanks for that, Edwards," he muttered, raising his wand at one of the skulls right by his feet, "Bombarda"

An explosion of dirt and violent green magic filled his vision, and Harry grinned as he felt the wave of magic that was released from the shattering. A moment later, the Remnant screamed, visibly distorting the air around them, and blasting his eardrums open as spikes of condensed poison entered his left arm.

Definitely on the right track then.

Whipping his wand across his front, Harry raised the Earth before him into a wall as he let the Lumos above fade away. Darkness descended upon them suddenly, and even though it had not even been five minutes since he had arrived, the sun had shifted enough for shadows to stretch all over the place. "One down, twelve to go," he muttered, finding another skull sitting right behind him, the eye that was visible past the dirt glowing dimly with the same sickly green he was growing to hate with each passing second, 'or eleven I guess. Diffindo!'

A wave of magic once again pushed out from the destroyed tether, and Harry grinned at the shrieking Remnant as he felt warm blood drip down the sides of his neck, casting a shield to stop her staff from breaking open his skull at the last moment, "How 'bout it, auntie? Reminds me of when you used to whip me for breaking your China or glasses."

"Freak! DESTROY!"

Her claws came for his face, glowing a sickly green. They struck his shield and stopped for just a moment, before it shattered with a quiet snap, but he was already backing away. Transfiguring the wood around him into iron with a muttered ligno ferrum, he speared the specter with it. Enraged as she was, the monster didn't even dissolve itself as it streaked forwards, its staff's tip glowing with magic as its chest and arm were skewered by the iron.

However, his eyes widened as he saw the iron rust within moments as he ducked underneath a wild swipe. His foot got caught on some rubble, and Harry cursed as he fell on his ass, feeling the loss of his demigod powers now more than ever as he forced his body to roll over. It had been a very long time since he had been so weak, the constant feeling of strength enough to shatter stones with his fingers had never looked so far off and precious to him. "Bombarda!" he chanted, grimacing as dirt blew into his face, but the scream of the Remnant behind him more than up for it as he caught two skulls at once—which were naught more than children when they died, judging by the size, "Nine."

The magic holding the Remnant together flickered wildly, and Harry smiled at her like a shark as he sent another Incendio at her, laughing at the shriek of agony that it let out. "Petrificus Totalus!" he shouted, stabbing hsi wand in its direction, raising the stones around him with his other hand and throwing them at its head as if they were bullets. The creature screamed in anger, visible sound waves shattering his ammunition before they could even come close, and Harry grunted as he felt himself slide back. However, his spell seemed to have some kind of effect still, as she writhed and slammed her head against invisible bonds holding her stationary. Taking in a much-needed breath, Harry grimaced, wiping away the blood dripping down his neck, opening and closing his jaw as he felt the ache in his ears as he kept looking around for the other eight skulls. Looking at the glow coming from one of the cracks in the ground, Harry's eyes widened as they shot all over the place, before looking at the struggling Remnant, its aura growing wilder and larger by the minute.

Backing away from the ruins of the plot, Harry pointed his wand at the ground, now wishing more than ever that he had bothered to learn magic a little more enthusiastically at Hogwarts. 'Scratch that thought, I am going to fucking devour the Restricted Section if Taranis is going to continue taking me on these field trips! And it is not like magic isn't useful otherwise too,' he thought, pulling at the well of power inside him as he even stopped the healing of his wounds. Pushing against the flaked, decayed flesh of his cheek with his tongue, Harry took a deep breath, the smell of rot and dead flesh entering his lungs like smoke from a cigarette, and he touched the small smatterings of the divine energy still viable to him. It was like a few drops from a bucket's worth of water he had been used to before this year, but at that moment, it was enough.

Pushing the Earthshaker's might with his own magic, Harry pointed his wand at the ground before him, wishing it to implode. For a moment, as his magic connected with every dirt and rock before him via the divinity of Poseidon within him, Harry was able to feel it all. The sheer vileness of the Remnant's presence upon the land, the echoes of how it had come crawling back from the afterworld, and even the lingering traces of his own lightning bolt from years ago. The next moment, he crushed it all together like a battering ram hitting it from every direction, grinding and pushing everything and anything against each other as the dirt heaved up from his action. Coughing as the dirt got into his mouth, Harry staggered down a knee at the sudden loss of energy from the action he had just performed.

However, seeing the Remnant scream and shake wildly from the loss of its tethers, he grinned past the blood welling from his insides. Given the amount of magic he had felt underneath the dust and dirt, he had managed to destroy seven skulls at once. Now it was down to only two, and even then, one was right in front of him, glaring at him as it swirled into existence barely a foot away from him, with its hand already tearing towards his gut. His eardrums were torn, otherwise, Harry was sure he would have heard nothing more than her wild screams promising him death as he felt the bones of her hand pierce through his front, stabbing right into his stomach and injecting him with its magic. Grabbing the femur that was somehow functioning as its forearm, Harry ignored the way his skin burned and flaked as he bared his teeth right in her face, and blasted her chest with a point blank bombarda. Bound as she was by his hand, there was no time or opportunity for the Remnant to scatter like before, and instead, with a wave of green energy, the specter was blasted to bits, with the bones that made it up scattering all over the place.

Grunting as he felt the rotten magic invade through his wounds into his body, Harry slowly rose to his feet, finding each moment more and more laborious as the several doses of the Remnant's poison began to affect him. Already, he was unable to feel the left side of his face, and his breathing was beginning to get more and more difficult as its magic eroded his lungs and burned his blood. "No-Now, where is the last one?" he grunted, looking at the destroyed earth around him. It wasn't here, that he was sure of, otherwise he would have seen or felt it by now with how dark it had become, and how pretty much every inch of the ground had been upturned and crushed. Closing his eyes, he focused on the Remnant's magic as he felt it once again begin to collect together to reform its body, separating its active threads from the passive cloak it had formed upon the earth as the rattle of bones moving across the ground echoed in the silence. 'There!' he thought victoriously, opening his eyes to stare to his right as he found a tether moving off away from the place where Number 40 had once stood, 'and it is…moving?'

Turning his eyes in the tether's direction, Harry blinked at the sight of emerald, feline eyes staring back at him before the cat turned around and slinked into the shadows. "Oh no you don't!" he shouted, stumbling a little as he moved after it, raising his wand towards the animal, "Diffindo! Bombarda! Diffindo!"

The fence was cut and blasted into smithereens at once, but fast as he was, the feline was faster still. Already, the distance between them had doubled, and Harry had no illusions about catching a cat on the run, especially as he was now. Breathing heavily as he felt his whole body shiver from the coldness of the poison inside his blood, inside his very magic itself, he raised his wand and looked at the speeding feline. As it slinked between a gap in the fencing and took a jump, Harry transfigured the plant before it into a cage, thanking McGonagall once again for teaching them something better than a bloody boil cure.

Summoning the cage to his feet before even a second could pass, Harry looked at the yowling and screeching cat, before raising his eyes towards the reforming specter. Right, no need for dramatic standoffs and final words of victory. He was tired, and he wanted Hestia's cookies ASAP. "Diffindo," he sighed, slashing his wand at the cat, before raising it towards the skull that was floating towards the rejoining bones of the Remnant, "Bombarda."

A wave of emerald magic erupted from the skull as it was reduced to dust in an eyeblink, and harsh winds blew across the area for a moment, blowing dirt and bones everywhere. With a wail that he heard despite his deafness, Harry felt the magic of the Remnant pull together at the center of the crater, visible green streams and embers of energy rising off the ground and the totems he had broken. Shuddering a little as he felt the poisonous magic of the Remnant literally get pulled out of his wounds, Harry stared at the ball of light green energy collecting before him. Some part of him, whether it was his intuition, or just a guess, knew what was coming…and he wanted no part of it.

Turning around, he hobbled out of the crater, wrenching the femur embedded in his thigh out with a squelch as he pointed his wand at the wound, healing it enough to stop the bleeding at least. Taranis stood just beyond the street on the other side, his hand behind his back with a robed individual by side, his face hidden in the shadows of his hood. The Celtic deity looked him over, his eyes lingering for a moment on the destroyed flesh on his face before he looked at the crater behind him. "You performed admirably, considering this was your first magical combat," the god said, before looking at the being beside him, "Take that to Arawn, and tell him to keep it here. No need to send her to Hades and let her soul be repaired. Damning her to the torment of a torn soul seems adequate punishment."

The cloaked man nodded, and in a swirl of shadows, disappeared off to the task as Harry finally came to a stop before the god of Thunder. "I left my trunk at the station," he muttered, looking down at his wand hand before meeting the grey eyes boring down upon him, "Is it stolen by now?"

"Sent to your camp already," the god shook his head, before holding out his cane. "This will drop you off at the edge of the ocean at your camp. Send my regards to Lady Hestia."

"Thank you for that, Lord Taranis," he muttered, grabbing onto the cane and lowering his head slightly. He closed his eyes as he exhaled, feeling the exhaustion hit every part of his body like a hit from the Hydra. Taking a breath, Harry felt the familiar smell of sea and olives enter his nose, and his eyes opened with a snap, looking down at the water hitting his feet as a crab crawled by on the sands.

"Home sweet home."