Capítulo 5: 4
Chapter 4
Hestia just smiled reassuringly at Harry, and then turned to her youngest brother. "Squatter's rights," she said.
Pandemonium broke out among the gods, and Harry, still not liking loud noises, swallowed deeply and hid himself behind his favorite goddess.
"Please do not yell," Hestia said, still sounding calm, yet somehow able to project her voice above the noise.
The sound level dropped. Silence descended.
"You can not be serious, Hestia," Zeus finally said.
The Goddess of the Hearth graced her youngest brother with a smile. "I am completely serious, Zeus," she said. "Harry has been living in an abandoned building for close to six months now. That confers him certain rights, even among us."
Zeus seemed flummoxed at how to respond. Instead, it was Athena who answered. "However, he just admitted that he is in contact with Helios, which makes the temple not abandoned after all."
Hestia turned her smile to the Goddess of Wisdom. "In which case, Helios is still around and has offered shelter to Harry. That would make this a case of Temple Asylum."
Zeus shook his head. "It doesn't matter. We can not allow a mortal to stay on Olympus. He can go to Camp half-Blood, like all the other young demigods."
"That would be the preferred solution," Athena said, backing up her father.
Harry looked at Hestia. "That's the camp you're looking after, right?" he asked her.
Hestia nodded. "Yes, it is, Harry. It is very nice and has many activities that you may enjoy. It's definitely an option if you wish to do so. However, after the life you've had, and the hardships you've had, I don't think you would enjoy it for long."
Harry frowned slightly. "Why not?" he asked, curious.
"Because once there, you're not allowed to leave unless it's for a quest. Also, with your lack of trust in authority figures, I do not believe you would enjoy the atmosphere."
Harry nodded thoughtfully. Being locked up somewhere held no appeal to him – and being forced to do what someone else told him to do reminded him of the Dursleys. He had freedom now; he didn't want to lose it.
Zeus was glaring at him now. Harry halfway hid behind Hestia. The god reminded him so much of Uncle Vernon now. He looked like he expected everyone to just do as he said. Harry didn't like him.
"Also, Harry, since your godly parent has not yet been determined, you would be staying in Hermes' cabin. As God of the Travelers, he welcomes everyone into his cabin."
Harry nodded slightly, then turned to the god in question. "Thank you, Mister Hermes!"
Hermes waved back. "No problem, Harry."
The young boy turned to look at Hestia. "Why couldn't I stay in your cabin, though, Hestia?"
Hestia just gave him a smile. "Because I do not have a cabin at camp, Harry. I don't need one; I have no children."
Harry gaped at her, as if she had just said the sky was purple with yellow dots instead of blue. "What?" he asked, struck dumb.
"Just send the boy to camp. We have more important things to do," Zeus snapped.
"I am not going to a camp that doesn't have a cabin for Hestia," Harry said, stepping out from behind the goddess in question, and crossing his arms.
Zeus' glare intensified, but before he could say anything, Poseidon interjected. "I understand how you feel, Harry. In many ways, Hestia is the best of us. She is kind, gentle, and supportive. It is why all of us gods like and love her. However, as she has said, she is a virgin goddess. She had no children, and therefore, she has no need of a cabin at camp."
"Artie doesn't have children either," Harry said.
Artemis choked in surprise, and looked like she wanted to somewhere else right now. Apollo started laughing. Hermes joined in.
"Artemis has her Hunters," Zeus snapped.
It was Harry's turn to look flummoxed. He recalled that book on the Greek gods that Hestia had given him, his mind going over what he knew of these gods. Athena was supposedly a virgin goddess as well, but she had many children throughout history, so she probably had a cabin. Wait a minute…
"Miss Hera doesn't have demigod children either," Harry suddenly spoke out loud. "Does she have a cabin?"
Silence descended among the gods, everyone looking at everyone else. Hestia smiled widely at him, looking proud at him figuring that out.
"That's… a rather good point," Poseidon said finally.
"That cabin is ceremonial!" Zeus thundered. As God of Thunder, he was very good at it, and Harry jumped in surprise.
"Yours is supposed to be, too," Hera said on a deceptively level tone. The god sunk in his throne and tried to look small.
Harry just nodded. "I don't want to go to a camp that doesn't have a cabin for Hestia," he repeated. "She's the best goddess ever." Hestia looked uncomfortable with the praise, and the gods sent wary looks at each other.
"While I appreciate the comment, I do not need a cabin, Harry," Hestia spoke, kindly. "As I said, I don't think you would enjoy the experience anyway, not before I am able to help correct some of the damage done to you by those people, anyway."
Harry just smiled at her. The Goddess of the Hearth turned back to Zeus. "Since he does not wish to go, Harry isn't going to camp. He has been granted Temple Sanctuary by Helios."
Zeus growled. "That does not matter!" he said again, turning back to his original argument.
"So you would break the age old laws of Temple Sanctuary?" Hestia asked, kindly. Deceptively kindly.
The King of the Gods frowned and his eyes narrowed. "He is not in the temple right now."
"Only because you had the guards drag him out of it," Hestia replied. "Which, in itself, is a breach of Temple Sanctuary."
"Aunt Hestia is right, Father," Athena admitted, sounding as if she didn't like doing so. "If we accept that part of Helios is still around, then he has clearly granted sanctuary to this boy. If we do not accept Helios' presence, then the boy has been living in an abandoned temple, without challenge, for long enough to lay claim to it."
Zeus frowned deeper, thinking deeply.
"Oh, just let the boy stay, Zeus," Hera said. "He's been here six months already and hasn't caused any problems or issues. I don't see the point of this argument. Either he owns the temple, or he has been offered shelter in it. Either case, he has legal standing to stay."
Zeus crossed his arms. "I do not want him to stay. It sets a bad precedent. I say to remove him, preferably to camp, but anywhere will do."
"Unfortunately, even the gods must follow the law, Father," Athena stated. As Goddess of Law and Justice, this fell under her domain.
Zeus grumbled; unfortunately, justice was one of his domains as well. As a God of Justice, he wasn't allowed to be unfair. He crossed his arms, clearly displeased. "Fine. Let him stay, then. On your heads be it – I never want to see him again."
"Thank you, Zeus," Hestia said, gracing him with a large smile. The irritated King of the Gods sighed and seemed to relax at that smile, before waving them off.
"Yes, yes. Begone."
Harry couldn't leave that room quickly enough. Hestia took her time, smiling at her extended family members.
The moment those huge double doors fell shut behind them, Harry turned and grabbed Hestia in the tightest hug he had ever given someone.
"You helped me," he whispered, continuing to hold her.
Hestia just hugged him back. "Of course I did, Harry. I heard your call. Of course I came."
The young boy finally relaxed. "Nobody else ever helped me," he whispered. "You're the first one who ever stood up for me."
"Oh, Harry," she sighed, feeling that familiar sensation in her heart.
They remained silent for quite a while, the Goddess of the Hearth providing reassurance to the young boy.
Finally, they broke the hug. "Come on, Harry. Let's go to the temple, now that you've been allowed to stay."
Harry nodded, and walked next to her. He was closer than usual, still jittery from what had happened, and not really wanting to trust that he wasn't about to be grabbed again. People in authority had let him down way too often. He trusted Hestia. Hestia would protect him, she'd proven that.
Now that he was starting to relax, his body shedding the excess stress hormones that had been flooding it, his normal biological functions slowly started to come back.
In other words, he suddenly realized that he was hungry. He looked at Hestia. "Can we cook something?" he asked, tentatively, halfway expecting her to say no. She had done so much for him already, after all.
The Goddess of the Hearth smiled back at him. "Of course we can, Harry," she said. "You're a growing boy so we have to make sure you get plenty to eat."
Harry smiled back at her. Cooking with Hestia was a lot more fun that cooking by himself, he always learned so much from her! Somehow, the stuff she cooked always tasted better than when he tried to cook it for himself.
That was probably because she was a goddess, he realized. Artie had gotten testy about her being better with a bow, so maybe Hestia was the same way with cooking. He wasn't about to make the same mistake he'd made with Artie and say anything out loud; he'd just watch and learn whenever he had a chance.
They walked in silence, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Finally, they arrived at Helios' temple, and Harry pushed the doors open.
"Hi, Mister Helios! I'm back!" he said, loudly, to the imposing statue. The sensation of Helios' presence seemed reassuring and protective. "Hestia helped me!" Harry went on. "She stood up for me to the other gods, and they're going to let me stay!"
The presence that was Helios seemed part reassuring and part apologetic, as if sorry that it wasn't able to do more.
Harry patted the statue's foot, still the only part that he was able to reach comfortably. "That's alright, Mister Helios. Like I said, Hestia stood up for me. She's the first ever who stood up for me!"
Hestia looked slightly uncomfortable, but Helios' presence radiated gratitude to her, and she offered a smile to the statue. "You're quite welcome," she offered, and Harry didn't know whether that was to him, or to Helios.
"Hestia and I are going to cook," Harry told the statue. "I'll be sure to leave you your share!"
For a moment, it felt like Helios' presence hugged him, before receding.
Hestia offered him a smile and held out her hand. "Come, Harry, let's see what's in the kitchen for us to work with."
"Okay, Hestia!" Harry said, grabbing her hand and leading her to the kitchen. As they passed through the living area, Harry saw the fire in the hearth, and suddenly remembered something he was curious about. He looked at her as they walked. "Hestia?"
"Yes, Harry?" the kindhearted goddess answered patiently.
"Why do we always travel through fire? I know you can teleport by yourself, so why do you always use fire when I'm with you?"
Hestia's smile turned into a small grin. "Divine teleportation is not suitable for non-gods," she explained. "If you even survived, it would be exceedingly painful. Traveling through fire is something that any mortal or demigod can do with the right tools." She released his hand, and touched his shoulder. "How about, after dinner, I show you how to do it by yourself? I'll even show you some other things, if you want," she offered.
Harry thought she sounded tentative. Did she think he would say no? Who would say no to learning how to travel by fire? Or other things that the Goddess of the Hearth wanted to teach?
"That'd be great, Hestia!" Harry shouted, excited.
Hestia smiled back at his exuberance, and unbeknownst to Harry, offered a minor boon through her contact with his shoulder. It wasn't much, but Harry would probably be pleased with it; the ability to travel through fire and take someone with him, the ability to start a minor fire when fuel was available for it, and a minor ability for fire-gazing. It would help him with the lessons she was planning to give him.
For now, she had promised to cook with him, and she always enjoyed cooking with other people.
00000
"Thank you for taking me to the beach and teaching me to swim, Mister Poseidon!" Harry said excitedly. He hesitated for just a moment, then stepped in and gave the God of the Seas a big hug.
Poseidon, to his credit, hugged the boy back despite his surprise at the hug. "You're quite welcome, Harry," the much-mellowed god replied. Poseidon knew himself and his history well enough to remember that there had been a time he wouldn't have bothered teaching a young mortal how to sim, let alone allow said boy to hug him.
Harry stepped away, smiling widely. Poseidon grinned back; he could start to understand what Hestia saw in the boy, and why she was helping him. For once, he was confronted by a mortal who didn't just bow and scrape, afraid of retribution. Instead, he was being treated like a normal living being; rather than as an angry weapon about to go off. It was quite liberating, and Poseidon reminded himself that he should do things like this more often.
Harry waved as the god stepped into the sea and disappeared. Still grinning, imitating many children that came before him, the small boy hopped over the tiny waves that lapped at the shoreline, laughing loudly as he did so.
Sure, he knew how to swim now, but jumping waves was fun.
Part of him regretted that Mister Poseidon had to leave. Harry understood, though. As God of the Sea, Poseidon was quite busy. He just wished he could spend more time with the god; he'd been great fun and a great teacher.
Jumping away from a small wave, as if afraid that it would catch him, Harry walked up the beach. It was time for him to get back to the temple; he had some cooking to do. Hopefully, Hestia would drop by so he could tell her of the exciting afternoon he'd had.
Finding some driftwood, Harry gathered quite a small pile, and dug a pit in the loose sand. Putting the twigs and branches of driftwood in the pit, he used the skill that Hestia had taught him to light it on fire. The pit would protect it against the wind, and prevent the fire from spreading.
Once the branches had caught on fire, Harry waved his hand. "Harry Potter lives in Mister Helios' Temple," he told the fire. It turned green at his command, and Harry stepped through, immediately arriving in the fireplace of the temple.
He stepped out of the fireplace, turned, and watched the fire turn back to its normal yellow-orange-red colors. He focused for a moment, and found the fire on the beach he had just left. Reaching out with the abilities Hestia had taught him, Harry turned the fire off. There was no sense in letting it burn and cause potential issues, even if he had dug a small fire pit and it was on a beach with nothing but sand.
After changing out of his swimming trunks and into his regular clothes, Harry made his way to the kitchen. Reaching his destination, Harry took out Hestia's recipe book, and flipped through it, trying to determine what he would make for dinner.
Half an hour later, Harry was watching the lasagna bake in his oven. Having become highly attuned to fire ever since Hestia taught him how to make fire and travel through it, Harry heard his hearth flare up.
He turned away from the baking lasagna and stood up.
"Hi Hestia!" he greeted, giving his favorite goddess a welcome hug. She hugged him back.
"Hello, Harry," the kind Goddess of the Hearth greeted him back. "How was your afternoon at the beach?"
"It was great!" the young boy enthused. "Mister Poseidon was great, and he taught me to swim in the sea, and he told me that I could go and visit the beach any time I wanted!"
Hestia smiled and listened as Harry told her about his visit to the beach. She hid the fact that she felt sad about how enthusiastic Harry was over a simple visit to the beach, and about how he had been given permission to visit the beach whenever he wanted.
There were times she thought that had curse on the Dursleys hadn't been strong enough. Then she remembered Hermes' advice, and cursing their situation was about the best she could do. Fire would never warm them and no home would ever shelter or protect them. They would be cold and paranoid for the rest of their lives.
Hopefully, anyway.
"So I made lasagna," Harry finished his tale. He checked the oven. "It should be done in another 20 minutes or so. Would you like some?"
Hestia smiled, banishing her darker thoughts. "I would love some," she said. It wasn't often that she had the time to join Harry for a meal, but she loved doing so when she was able. Being the Goddess of the Home, there was nothing homelier for her than to share a good meal.
Noticing the recipe book still open on the counter, she idly flipped through it while the lasagna baked. "Artie came to see me earlier," she said.
"Oh?" Harry asked, his focus on the oven again. "I haven't seen her since Mister Zeus wanted to kick me out."
"I know," Hestia said, smiling gently at the little boy – not that he noticed, his focus still on his food. "She is feeling rather embarrassed about what happened. Not that she will ever admit that out loud. My family can be rather proud, and admitting mistakes does not come easily to them."
Harry nodded. "That's ok. I understand why she didn't help me."
"She wants to make it up to you, though. Again, not that she will admit it out loud," Hestia said with a small laugh. "She came to see me to ask my advice. She wants to take you to the camp of her Hunters. As she's quite busy, she doesn't have a lot of time to teach you, so bringing you to her Hunters would allow for her lieutenant, Zoë Nightshade, to teach you for longer periods of time."
Harry looked at Hestia. "Really?" he asked, excitedly.
Hestia's smile widened. "Really," she confirmed. "Be careful, though – Artie's Hunters like boys even less than she does. Zoë is better than most, but she still won't be the most supportive of teachers. I suspect that, rather like Artie herself, you'll need to win her trust."
Harry nodded. He didn't think Artie was that bad. She hadn't yelled at him – much – and didn't say nasty things to him. Not often, anyway. Not after learning that she could take the silliest things as a challenge and get angry over them. He liked her as a teacher; she was awesome.
"What's she like?" Harry asked.
"Zoë?" Hestia asked, getting a confirming nod from Harry. "She's utterly loyal to Artie. She is also very experienced – she was one of the first of Artie's Hunters, and is still with her. She is extremely good at what she does, she's strong, and she's steadfast. A bit stubborn, but then again, to be the best at what you do, you need a bit of stubbornness."
The Goddess of the Hearth stopped flipping through the book at a certain page. "She also has a bit of a sweet tooth, so making some of these would help," she finished, pointing to the page. Harry walked over and looked at the recipe Hestia had selected. It was for simple chocolate-chip cookies. Hestia-style, of course, with a few added ingredients to reinforce certain flavors.
There was a reason her desserts were highly prized on Olympus.
"I can make those," Harry said, grinning.
Hestia just smiled, when the timer dinged. Harry grabbed the oven mitts and started taking the hot pan out of the oven. Not even thinking about asking for help, the young boy served his guest and himself.
When they were sat at the table, eating, Harry looked up from his food. "Is there anything else I should know about the Hunters?" he asked Hestia.
The goddess shook her head. "Just remember to remain polite. Some of them really do hate all men, so you may hear some nasty things. Just remain polite. Zoë herself will be cool and standoffish, like Artie, but she will remain polite as long as you do the same. It would be a command from Artie, after all, and Zoë Nightshade will always do what she can to fulfill Artie's requests."
Harry just nodded. "Okay, Hestia."
The Goddess of the Hearth smiled. "I'm glad to hear you're being adult about things, Harry. I'll inform Artie you're interested in the arrangement."
"Thanks, Hestia," Harry said, smiling. He was looking forward to meeting Artie's Hunters – from what she had said, they were awesome.
They finished their meal, and Harry moved to put everything in the sink. Hestia waved her hand instead, cleaning up all the used implements and utensils.
"Whoa," Harry breathed, impressed.
Hestia laughed softly. "You cooked, so it is only right that I do the dishes," she teased. "I should go; I have a duty to maintain the fire at Camp Half-Blood."
Harry nodded. "Okay. Have fun, Hestia," he said. He watched her walk to the living area, then hurried after her. "Would they really keep me locked up?" he asked before she could disappear into the fire.
She smiled gently at him. "It wouldn't really be imprisonment, but yes, for the safety of the campers, the rules state that one can't leave without clear permission. Demigods get attacked by monsters, you see. It's for their own protection. However, do to your life; you would struggle with the lack of freedom. At least, until I can help you heal a bit more."
Harry nodded gratefully. Knowing that the camp she loved wasn't a prison but more like a boarding school, helped. Not that he wanted to stay there, mind you. He wanted to be able to walk away when things didn't work out. He mistrusted people in charge. Even here, at Olympus, he could simply pack a bag and walk out. He didn't want that safety net taken away from him.
He returned to the kitchen, scooped up a portion of lasagna, and walked to the statue of Helios. "I hope you like lasagna, Mister Helios," the young boy said, putting the plate on the altar.
00000
The next morning, Harry collected the empty plate from the altar, shot the statue a grateful smile as Helios obviously liked the food, and went back to the kitchen to make cookies.
But first, breakfast.
After breaking his fast, Harry took out the recipe Hestia had recommended, studied it, and then started his preparations.
After completing his batter, he tasted it.
Harry studied it for a few moments. He then went to his cupboard, took out a chunk of raw ambrosia, and cut off a small piece. Grinding it into a fine powder, he folded it into the batter.
He tasted it again. "Good, good," he muttered to himself. Taking out a baking tray, he measured dollops of the batter onto the plate, before sprinkling chocolate chips on top and sliding it into the oven.
After the cookies finished baking, and letting them cool, he tasted one. It was gooey and chocolate-y, and he contemplated having a second.
Knowing himself, Harry stopped himself. If he didn't, he'd eat all of them.
Whistling randomly to himself, Harry dolloped the remaining batter onto a new tray, sprinkled the last of the chocolate chips on top, and set them to bake. He'd seriously misjudged the amount of batter he made, and so he'd turned out a lot more cookies than he had expected.
After his second batch cooled, he tried one of them. They were slightly more set, his timing must have been a bit off. They were more firm, but just as chocolate-y as the first batch. The minuscule amount of Ambrosia powder really brought out the flavors of the cookie.
He'd have to talk with Hestia about this, he wondered why her recipe didn't include the ambrosia to really kick up the flavor. There must be a reason for it.
Harry put the cooled cookies into a Tupperware container to keep them fresh, and set out to clean the utensils he had used making the cookies.
He was still humming and whistling random notes when he was scrubbing out the batter bowl, becoming aware that he was no longer alone in the kitchen.
He looked over his shoulder, and saw Artie stride up. He gave his second-favorite goddess a big smile. "Hi Artie!" he greeted, pulling his hands out of the soapy water, and drying them off.
"Harry," Artie said back. Was it Harry's imagination or did she sound apprehensive?
His hands now dry, he turned and gave her a hug. She tensed for a moment, and then hugged him back.
Releasing the goddess, Harry turned back to his sink. "I'm just finishing up the dishes, Artie. I spent a bit more time baking than I expected."
Artie approached. "You were baking?" she asked in confirmation.
Harry nodded enthusiastically. "Yup. It's a surprise." Suddenly, he flipped around, and extended a hand. "So don't touch!" he admonished as the Goddess of the Hunt had been about to open the Tupperware container. For a moment, she looked guilty, before seemingly realizing that she was the goddess and he was the mortal.
Drawing herself up, she was about to reply, when Harry turned back to his dishes. "I'll tell Hestia. And then you won't get any."
Artie froze in indecision, then sighed. "It rankles that a boy is daring to give me orders," she said angrily.
Harry smiled at her over his shoulder. "I'm just asking nicely, Artie. I spent a lot of effort on those, and they're a surprise."
The Goddess of the Hunt eyed him, and Harry felt a bead of sweat pearl down his forehead. Artie could get really angry over the strangest things, and Harry worried that he had done something silly. Maybe he should have just given her the cookies? But then he wouldn't have any for Miss Zoë, who was going to be his new teacher. Hestia had recommended the cookies for her specifically, hadn't she?
"Fine," Artie finally said; her tone was rather cool, Harry thought, but he'd take it. "It's a rare man who dares tell me what to do, and doesn't feel worried about it when I voice my displeasure."
Harry swallowed. "I was worried," he said. "You get really angry sometimes, and I don't want you getting angry. You're still my friend, after all."
Artie was still studying him; her intense silver-grey eyes seemingly string into his very soul. Harry didn't like it much when she stared at hard at him. Her gaze felt heavy.
"Oh?" she finally said.
Harry nodded, drying off the utensils he had just finished rinsing. "Yup. You're awesome, you teach me loads of things, and I like you. So you're my friend. Even if I know I probably am not your friend." He looked up from his drying. "Do you want me to keep that quiet in public?"
Artie's gaze seemed to intensify, if that were even possible. "What is it you're asking?" she demanded, a current in her voice that sounded dangerous.
Harry swallowed, and focused on his drying so he didn't have to look at the angrily staring Goddess of the Hunt. "I-I mean," the boy started stammering, then collected himself. "You may not want people to know we get along. So you may want to act like we don't know each other in public."
Artie was quiet, and for the first time, Harry realized why Hestia had called her Artemis instead of Artie in that huge meeting room. Artie was his friend who taught him things. Artemis was the goddess who hated boys and wanted nothing to do with him. He'd have to keep the two separate.
"No," she finally said. "No, I do not need you to keep quiet about our arrangement. There is no need for… discretion. We have a perfectly normal teacher-student relationship. There is no need to hide that fact."
She approached. Harry wasn't watching her, but he felt her coming closer. "It is most unusual that you would consider me a friend, especially after recent events."
Harry hesitated, not sure what to say. "You're awesome, Artie," Harry said. "And you're a really good teacher. And I like you. Well – mostly. I don't like it when you get angry at me. But you know what I mean."
Artie studied him closer, and then nodded. "I would not get angry at you if you didn't say stupid boy things."
Harry offered her a tentative smile, looking at her for the first time in a while. "Sorry?"
"My offer to turn you into a girl still stands," Artie said, grinning. Harry relaxed. Grinning Artie was Friendly Artie. He liked Friendly Artie.
Harry smiled back. "Only if you let me turn back into a boy if I don't like it," he replied.
The Goddess of the Hunt shook her head. "Come on," she said, and started to walk out. Harry grinned, raced to get his box of cookies and his notebook, and finally followed her. Once again, he got to ride in her chariot with those cool golden deer.
They remained silent for the trip, and Harry enjoyed the time flying through the sky, gazing at the ground below.
As they circled in for a landing at a large clearing in the middle of some forest Harry didn't know, the goddess turned to him.
"One piece of advice," she said, on the exact same tone that she always used when teaching him something really important. "Not all people enjoy hugging. You seem to enjoy the practice; I would advise against trying to hug one of my Hunters."
Harry swallowed. "Alright, Artie," he said, quickly. "Hestia told me to be polite, I guess not hugging is part of that, then."
Artie nodded once, sharply. "If you do, I will be forced to curse what is left of you, and I do not want to deal with the lecture Aunt Hestia would give me."
Harry frowned, not understanding her statement. "What do you mean, Artie?"
The goddess aimed the chariot for the landing spot she was eyeing. "If you try to hug one of my Hunters, two things will happen. One, the Hunter in question will hurt you. Severely. If you survive, I, as Goddess of Maidens, will be forced to curse your remains. Aunt Hestia would be… most displeased… with that course of events."
"Oh," the young boy said, feeling his palms sweat.
"Yes. Oh," Artie confirmed, injecting just a small note of teasing into her tone.
"Hestia said that your Hunters hate boys. Do they all really hate boys that badly?" he wondered tentatively, as the chariot touched down.
Artie seemed amused by the question, rather than upset. "Some more than others, but you will be safer if you assume they all do," she answered. "I am very protective of my Hunters, and most of them have been hurt very badly by males."
She stepped out of the chariot, and turned to look at him. "What you said during the solstice meeting calmed Aunt Hestia and saved me from being on her bad side. This has earned you a favor, which is why I am even bringing you here. I do not have the time to teach you properly, and I am trusting you to remain the studious student that I have grown to know."
"Thanks, Artie," Harry said, finally climbing out of the chariot himself. "I won't let you down. Hestia told me a bit about what Miss Zoë is like, so I'm sure I'll like her."
Artie stared at him for a bit. "It amazes me to hear a boy say those words," she said, amused.
Harry grinned back. "I like you, too, Artie, and from what Hestia has said, that's strange, too."
The Goddess of the Hunt shook her head in amusement. "This way," she said, striding off and expecting him to follow.
Used to the way she would sometimes issue short commands, Harry followed her into the camp. It was arranged in a circle, with identical tents surrounding a campfire. He smiled at the sight of the fire; fires had started setting him at ease ever since Hestia had taught him some of her skills.
Harry flinched when he noticed that a dozen large, white, wolves were circling the tents. The animals eyed him as if he were food.
One of the Hunters was feeding a treat to one of the wolves, but stopped when she noticed him. In fact, every Hunter that noticed him, stopped and stared. Some of them stared angrily, too.
One Hunter seemed to suddenly have a bow in her hands. Harry blinked, not having seen where she had been keeping the weapon, but when the Hunter started raising it, he took two quick steps to be closer to Artie.
He resisted the urge to grab her hand and hide; Artie wasn't Hestia and after the talk they just had regarding hugging, he didn't think Artie would take kindly to the action.
Even though he desperately wanted to. He looked back. The Hunter no longer had her bow out and was just grinning at him now. He sighed in relief. So he'd fallen for her trick. At least she hadn't really wanted to shoot him.
"Phoebe has a lot of problems with boys and men," Artie said, apparently having seen what happened without actually looking. "If you keep away from her, there shouldn't be an issue."
"Okay, Artie," Harry said, looking over his shoulder at the Hunter called Phoebe, who was now seemingly talking animatedly with the Hunter next to her. Whatever it was she was saying must have been important, as there was lots of hand-waving going on.
Harry turned back to focus on Artie and watch where he was going. It wouldn't do to bump into her, not here. Harry was really starting to doubt this arrangement. The Hunters really did seem to hate him, not like Artie, who was just cool and standoffish, but in a very real 'I will hurt you' kind of way.
"Here we are," Artie said, pulling the flap back on a tent that looked just like all the others, and stepped inside. Harry hurried after her.
Artie stepped up to the middle of the tent, which appeared to be far larger on the inside, and sat down next to the Hunter that was already present. Harry looked around, curious. The tent was warm and comfortable, with silk rugs and pillows covering the floor. In the center, a golden brazier was burning without smoke. Harry smiled at it, grateful for its presence.
Behind Artie stood a polished oak display case, holding the silver bow he had seen when she had split his arrow. This time, he got a closer look at it, and noticed that it was carved into the shape of horns. He continued his look, his gaze gliding over the walls covered in animal pelts of all types and kinds.
Something moved, something Harry hadn't noticed in his excited inventory of the tent. It was one of those magnificent deer! The animal languidly moved to Artie's side, and put its head in her lap.
Smiling at it, she patted its neck. Harry never would have imagined those magnificent golden deer to be like house pets, but there it was. Maybe that was why they didn't seem to mind when Harry petted them.
"Harry, this is Zoë Nightshade, my lieutenant, and my oldest friend. Zoë, be known to Harry Potter, my… student, under the patronage of Hestia, Goddess of the Hearth and the Home."
Harry offered the girl a tentative smile. Zoë had coppery-colored skin, dark brown eyes and a slightly upturned nose, and had a silver circlet braided into the top of long dark hair.
She studied him in return.
Artie didn't seem troubled by the dragging silence, and sat watching them with an amused smile on her lips.
Harry noticed first. "You're enjoying this!" he accused.
Zoë bristled. "Thou should show respect to My Lady!" she snapped out. Harry looked at her in confusion at the outburst.
"It's alright, Zoë," Artemis said. "It was how he was introduced to me. I have come to… appreciate… his candor. Sometimes," she finished with a tightening of her eyes.
Harry felt trapped, despite having the exit to the tent behind him. The fact that he was the only one still standing, clutching that box of cookies and his notebook, made it feel like he had been dragged into the teacher's office at school.
He wasn't sure the cookies would be helpful now. Or even welcome, not with the way Zoë seemed to be glaring at him.
"I must admit to some amusement, though," Artie said, still smiling. "After your talk about how you were sure you would like my old friend, it seems that you are failing."
Harry frowned at her, and Zoë seemed to cast an unsure look at the goddess. "My Lady?" the Hunter asked, confused.
Artie turned to look at her companion, still smiling. "On the way here, we had a small discussion on appropriate and inappropriate behavior. Harry then told me that he liked me, despite the fact that I am rather indifferent towards men and boys. He also told me that he was sure that, since he likes me, he would like you, as well."
"It's not a nice thing to stir up trouble, Artie," Harry muttered with a pout. He was going to say more, but Zoë interrupted him.
"Despite thy assurances, thou would address My Lady with such disrespect, boy!?" She was halfway to her feet, when she was stopped by a hand on her shoulder.
"It's alright, Zoë. As I said, it was how Harry was introduced to me. He means no disrespect," Artie said, calming down the girl and making her sit. "I must admit it was quite childish of me. I merely wished to point out that plans do not always go as expected, and that sometimes, despite your best efforts, you sometimes can't get along with people."
Harry sighed, as Zoë sent Artie another look that he couldn't decipher. "I want to get along with Miss Zoë, though," he muttered. He looked at the Hunter in question. "After everything Hestia said, and everything Artie said, you sound really awesome."
Zoë blinked. "I… thank thee?" she offered, not having expected a compliment of all things. Seeing himself on steadier ground, he stepped closer, and held out the Tupperware container. "Hestia said you liked these, so I baked some. I hope you like them."
Zoë glanced at her goddess, who seemed to be pouting for some reason, then stood up to accept the box. Opening the container, she picked out a cookie at random and studied it.
"It… appears fine," she said, as if unsure whether it was actually edible or not. Harry held his breath when she bit into it.
Her eyed opened and a sound escaped her that she seemed to blush at. The cookie vanished into her mouth with incredible speed, and Harry let out his breath, smiling widely. She liked them.
"Thou made these?" The Hunter questioned intently.
Harry nodded. "I baked them this morning. I used Hestia's recipe, then tweaked it a little."
A second cookie, half-eaten, remained frozen halfway to her mouth. "Thou took a recipe of the Goddess of the Home, and modified it?"
Harry nodded. Now that they were calming down, Harry realized that Zoë had an accent that was thick and unusual, one that he thought sounded exotic and perfectly fitting for her.
"It was a mortal recipe, so I took some ambrosia, grated it into a really fine powder, and used just a sniff of it to bring out the flavor of the chocolate. Just enough to enhance flavor, not enough to turn it into an ambrosia cookie," he explained.
Zoë still looked at the cookie, and then glanced at him. "Does… Lady Hestia… know thou hath modified her recipe?"
Harry shook his head. "I'll discuss it with her tonight when she comes over. I love discussing recipes with her; she knows a ton about cooking!"
The Hunter nodded, then finished off the cookie. "'T is delicious," she admitted, as if it pained her. "I thank thee." She looked at the box. "I also hope Lady Hestia will not be upset at thou modifying her recipe."
Harry smiled widely. "Hestia loves it when I improvise. She says that the best way to learn is to experiment."
Some tension seemed to go out of Zoë's shoulders, and Harry wondered why that was. Until he remembered how Artie could get angry with him for silly little things like asking the wrong question, so he thought Zoë must have been concerned for his safety.
He offered her a smile. For a moment, she looked like she was going to smile back, then seemingly remembered herself, and sat down instead.
"They are delicious," she repeated herself, as she sat comfortably and ate another cookie.
"He also wouldn't let me have any," Artie said, still pouting.
Zoë stared at Artie, before changing her incredulity over to Harry. "Thou denied My Lady?" she asked, her tone halfway between shocked, appalled, and angry.
Harry shrugged. "Well, yeah. I made them for you. It would be kind of a waste to bake you cookies, and then let someone else eat them."
"You didn't bake me cookies when we first met," Artie said, still pouting as it seemed Zoë wasn't about to share her bounty either.
"I gave you macaroni and cheese," Harry replied. "And you loved it."
Artie crossed her arms, and looked away. "Yes, I did," she said, as if admitting it hurt.
"Thou canst cook as well?" Zoë asked. "Not only cookies?"
Harry smiled widely; he would have to do something very nice for Hestia. Her suggestion of baking cookies seems to have broken the ice with Zoë! "I live by myself, Miss Zoë," the young boy explained. "So I always cook for myself. Hestia has left me a book of recipes, and I try new ones every day. Hestia has said I learn quickly, and that I'm pretty good at it."
The Hunter nodded. "High praise coming from a goddess," she said. Artie grunted, and looked away, still not having gotten a cookie and seemingly unwilling to straight-out ask for one.
Zoë looked at her goddess, and apparently realized what was wrong. "Wouldst thou like one, My Lady?" she offered the container.
"Yes, please," Artie said, not even bothering with pretending otherwise. Snatching one, she bit into it as if worried someone would take it from her.
Zoë seemed as amused by the goddess' actions as Harry was. Not that she showed it as obviously as he did.
"Anyway," Artie coughed, after devouring her cookie and realizing that she had finished it just a tad quickly. "Zoë, I have been teaching Harry the basics of survival over the last couple of months, and it has come to the point where I don't have sufficient available time if I am to teach him properly. I have brought Harry here for training, in other words. As we discussed, I would like it if you were to consent to taking over his training."
The Hunter was silent for a few moments, while Harry gave her hopeful looks.
"My Lady, is this a command?" she finally asked. "If thou were to ask it of me, then of course I shall."
Artie shook her head. "I would never order any of my Hunters to spend time with a male, especially not if it is against their wishes. This is strictly voluntary."
Zoë turned her gaze back to Harry, who was still doing his best to give her hopeful looks. "We shall see," She finally decided, addressing him. "I still give thee a lesson. I shall expect the very best of thee. If thou passes, we shall continue, until such a time that thou fails. Or thou decides to stop."
Harry nodded, grinning widely. "That's how Artie's been teaching me too, Miss Zoë. I don't mind."
The Hunter seemed to sigh, and debate with herself on whether this was a good idea after all. She shot another look at her goddess, who just looked back, amused.
"My Lady?" Zoë asked. "Art thou sure?"
Artie kept her amused look. "It was how I was roped into this as well, Zoë. Hestia asked me to teach the boy how to survive in the wild. I decided on giving him one lesson, make it harsh, and ensure that he wouldn't wish to continue. Instead, I found myself with an eager pupil, who kept up despite my efforts."
Zoë nodded. "Very well," she said to Harry. "We shall start. Follow me." she nodded to Artie. "My Lady."
Artemis' look of amusement grew at the sight of her lieutenant's disgruntlement.
"Thanks, Miss Zoë!" Harry said, grinning widely. "Thanks, Artie!" he shot at the amused Goddess of the Hunt, following Zoë out of the tent.
The Hunter kept up a good pace, and little Harry had to leg it to keep up. "Explain to me why thou art interested in these lessons, boy," she said as they walked.
Harry's legs pumped, but he managed to keep up. "Do…" he started, and then asking, softly, "do you have to call me that?" he asked, plaintively.
"Call thee what?" Zoë asked, confused, shooting him a look.
Harry swallowed. "Boy," he said. "It's what they…" He stopped, then forced himself to continue. Zoë had to know. "My aunt and uncle… called me that when they threw me in my cupboard without food for a few days."
Zoë looked at him, and for a moment, Harry thought her harsh look softened. It may have been his imagination. Or not. Because she kept quiet a few moments, then nodded.
"I see," she said. "Just like some of my sisters, thou hast not had good guardians." She nodded once. "I shall refrain from calling thee 'boy'." She fell silent again, thinking for a few moments. "Please remind me should I forget." She looked down at him, staring intently at his face. "Let me know if there is anything else I should avoid saying, or doing. I may not like thee, as thou art male, but that does not mean I hate thee enough to wish to remind you of certain events."
Harry smiled at her, tentatively. "Thanks, Miss Zoë."
She dipped her head once. "Now, please answer my original question. Why doest thou wish to learn this?"
The young boy swallowed. He hated talking about this part of his life, as he didn't want people's pity. "My aunt and uncle didn't feed me a lot," he finally said. "So I got used to being hungry. They also told me that it was okay to food with funny colors or with fuzz on it, even if it tasted funny. Hestia told me they were lying, but when you get hungry enough, you'll eat it, you know?"
Zoë stared at him, hard. Harry swallowed, and went on when she remained silent. "They must have gotten tired of me," the boy whispered. "Because they left me in New York after buying my passport from me for 100 dollars. I used it to buy food. And a blanket. But then the money was gone, and I was tired and hungry again. So I ate out of a skip when I could."
"A… 'skip'?" Zoë asked, her voice a curious lilt, as if she were bracing herself for an answer she wouldn't like.
"It's a… dumpster, I think Hestia called it. A large metal container outside of buildings where people throw trash. And people throw away lots of food, even if it's fuzzy and tastes funny. When you're hungry enough, you'll eat anything. That's why I want to learn plants and animals and survival and things, so I can take care of myself and I don't have to go fishing in a skip – because they get emptied every now and then, and then you get really hungry."
He swallowed, and then looked away, scuffing his foot on the ground. "I'm good now, and Hestia is really great. But maybe she'll grow tired of me, too. My aunt and uncle did, and they were family. Good things don't last. So I want to be able to take care of myself."
Zoë kept staring at him. When he gave no sign of continuing, she said, "I see." She went silent again, thinking. "That is… a proper reason," she finally decided. "Surprising as it is," she added. Again, silence, more thought. "As I know Lady Hestia, she would not abandon thee easily. My Lady, too, seems to have taken a liking to thee. However, 't is never a bad idea to be prepared for the worst. One never knows what the future will bring."
Zoë starting walking again, and Harry followed. He didn't want to think about being left again, but he had to be ready just in case. His aunt and uncle had abandoned him, and they were family.
They stopped at one of the tents, and Zoë pulled back the flap. "This is the supply tent," she explained. "Pick one of the backpacks and follow me."
Harry went in, and noticed a dozen or so backpacks of the kind and size that Artie usually conjured during her lessons. He never had to carry one before, as Artie always conjured them in place, but Harry wasn't about to fail his new teacher in her first lesson.
He looked the packs over, found them all to be identical, and picked up the one that was best situated for him to pick up, one that was on top of a couple of others so that he didn't have to bend down too much.
He carried it out, and found that Zoë had already started walking. He tried putting the pack on his back, but it was almost as tall as he was, making it difficult for him to walk as his feet kept bumping into it.
Somehow managing to catch up, he kept working the pack in an effort to make it more comfortable for him to follow her.
"Thou seem to be struggling," Zoë noted without a hint of helpfulness.
"It's the first time I carry one," Harry explained. "Artie usually conjures one when we arrive. I've unpacked and repacked one dozens of times, I've set up the tent dozens of times, but Artie's never had me carry one." His heels bumped into the pack when he took a larger stride.
"I see," Zoë said, looking him over. "It does appear to be slightly large for thee. Keep walking," she instructed when she fell back behind him. Harry kept walking.
He felt her hitch the pack up higher and adjust the straps. "That should hold thee," she said, stepping out from behind him, and rapidly taking the lead again.
"Thanks, Miss Zoë!" Harry said, grinning widely.
"Remember how it is done, I shall not remind thee," Zoë said, just dipping her head in recognition of his gratitude. Harry nodded, took his notebook, and made notes to remind himself to study the pack when they stopped so he could figure out how it was done.
"We shall go to that forest of there, to a clearing I know," the Hunter stated, pointing straight ahead. "There we shall see what you have learnt from My Lady."
"Okay, Miss Zoë," Harry said. They walked in silence, Harry's smaller legs pumping to keep up with the Hunter's longer, easy-going strides.
When they entered the forest, Harry struggled to keep up; Zoë seemed to know instinctively where to put her feet to avoid slipping on the mossy floor, or avoid holes, or anything else that would break her stride.
Harry, despite having been in forests plenty of times with Artie, had never been pushed like this and he had to work hard to keep up.
When they finally arrived at the clearing, he wanted panting and sweating, while Zoë didn't even bother to look even slightly winded.
"Good. Thou kept up," she decided. "Please put up the tent."
Harry dropped the heavy pack. "Yes, Miss Zoë," he managed between gasps of air. Thankfully, this was something he had done plenty of times before, and within minutes he had the backpack unpacked, and the tent put up.
The Hunter circled it, studying it intently. "Very good," she praised. "Very good indeed. I can see where My Lady hath trained thee. Thou did it precisely and true to the rules."
Harry smiled at her, thankful for the praise. "Thanks, Miss Zoë."
The Hunter dipped her head, yet did not make to reply while looking at the tent. "Break it down. I shall show thee how to do it quicker," she finally decided.
Harry broke it down and repacked it, precisely following the steps Artie had shown him.
His new teacher took the pack from him. "My Lady is the Goddess of the Hunt," she said. "That means that she does everything according to the rules, in the best way possible. However, in most cases, one does not need to follow the best way. One needs only to follow the most efficient way. This is how a Hunter pitches a tent," she explained, and pitched the tent.
Harry stared. It was far quicker. Far far quicker. He could also see where Artie's way would be better; on uneven ground, during storms, or with any kind of adverse conditions, following Artie's way would get the tent pitched. But like Zoë said – this ground was flat, there was hardly any wind, there was no storm. And so, the tent could be pitched faster.
He grabbed his notebook, flipping to the page detailing how to pitch a tent, and started writing.
The Hunter stepped over, and read over his shoulder. She nodded as the boy wrote. Suddenly, she interrupted him, and pointed out a mistake he was making.
"Thanks, Miss Zoë," the boy said, smiling at her over his shoulder, and correcting himself.
"I am pleased thou art taking this seriously," she commented when he was done taking his notes. "Now that thou hast written it down, thou art to do it." She pointed to the tent. "Break it down and put it up, as I showed thee."
Harry nodded. "Alright, Miss Zoë," he said, starting to break down the tent. As he worked, he kept his attention to the tent, but asked, "How would you put up the tent when there's a storm?"
"Observe," she said, making him look up. She seemed amused.
As he watched, she pulled a package out of her inner packet, something the size of a pack of gum. She threw it to the ground, and it unfolded into a perfectly pitched tent.
Harry stared at it with open mouth. He then looked at her, and back to the tent. "That… that's amazing!"
"A gift from My Lady," Zoë said. "We use it while on the Hunt, during bad conditions, or when time is of the essence. In an effort to not become reliant on it, we will pitch our tents normally under normal conditions."
"Whoa," Harry just said. Zoë gave him an amused look before approaching her tent, and making it fold back into its pack-of-gum format, which she put back into her pocket. "Now, I do believe I gave thee a task to perform."
Harry nodded hurriedly and quickly went back to work. "Sorry, Miss Zoë."
She seemed even more amused now. " 'T is always fun to see the reaction to My Lady's folding tents."
Harry didn't react, feeling as if she were teasing him. After he broke the tent down, he put it back up using the quicker technique she had just shown him. It took him a couple of times to get it right – contrary to Artie's technique, this one left him with a collapsed tent on the first few tries before he got it right.
"Good," she said, when he finally managed. "Now, do it again."
Harry simply nodded; he was used to performing a task over and over again for Artie. This was no different, and so he broke it down and did it again. And again. And again. Until Zoë determined that he did it 'right' and had the technique down.
"Good," his new teacher decided. "Repack they pack and we shall return to camp."
"Okay, Miss Zoe," Harry said, doing his best to repack everything as it was supposed to. He felt good about what he learned, but his nerves were hammering about her decision. Would she continue to teach him, or not? He hoped so; she appeared really cool and had taught him a neat new way of packing a tent.
After packing his tent, and finally documenting the changes she made to the straps so he could carry it somewhat comfortably, he followed her back to camp. During the voyage, she kept up a constant commentary on the plants and trees along the way, which forced Harry to scribble notes while on the go.
A couple of times, he nearly ran into a tree, only managing to avert a collision at the last moment.
As they emerged from the tree line, Zoë halted her narration. "Good. Thou needst to learn to keep watch on thy surroundings. Thou never knowest when thou may need it."
Harry just nodded, huffing again from both trying to keep up with her long strides, and from trying to keep both an eye on his surroundings and writing notes at the same time. He ignored how her accent came and went, it was unique and he rather liked it. Even if it made her hard to understand sometimes.
They arrived back at the Hunters' camp, and Zoë had Harry stow the backpack where he had gotten it – after adjusting the straps back to their original configuration so they wouldn't bother the next Hunter who used it.
He exited the tent and found his new teacher and his previous teacher locked in discussion.
"Thou art correct, My Lady," Zoë was telling Artie. "He appears quite eager and dedicated."
Artemis, to her credit, didn't seem to be gloating, but looked decidedly smug in Harry's opinion. He approached them, and grinned. "Miss Zoë's awesome," he told Artie.
The Goddess of the Hunt turned from smug to amused. "You liked your lesson, then? Will you continue them?"
Harry nodded eagerly. "For as long as Miss Zoë wants," he answered, suddenly feeling his nerves again. He looked plaintively at her.
The Hunter in question sighed. "Very well. We shall continue they lessons whenever there is time."
"Thanks, Miss Zoë!" the boy shouted.
"Thou art welcome," she just answered. "Maintain thy attitude, and there will be no issue."
Harry just grinned, before realizing that the sun was setting. He hadn't realized how much time he had spent in the woods with his new teacher, but now that he saw the sun he realized how late it had gotten.
"Oh no, I should head back," he said, slightly urgently. "Before Hestia gets worried. She likes to check up on me."
Artie looked amused again. "I found it best not to upset Aunt Hestia, I agree with you," she told the young boy.
Harry hugged his second favorite goddess. "Thanks for everything, Artie."
"You're welcome, harry," she said, breaking the embrace.
Harry turned to Zoë. "Hug?" he asked.
The Huntress eyed him like she wanted to slit his throat. "I think not."
Harry shrugged, grinning, and held out one hand. "Thanks, Miss Zoë."
She shook her head, then clasped his hand. "Thou art welcome."
Harry released the handshake, turned, and walked to the fire. "Doest thou not need transportation?" He heard Zoë ask.
The boy shook his head, waved his hand at the campfire, and thought the special activation phrase Hestia had taught him. He should be careful with it; you never knew who was listening.
The fire turned green. Harry turned around, waved at Artie and Zoë, then spun and stepped through the flames into the temple he now called home.
He emerged from the fireplace, and set out to the kitchen, suddenly realizing that he was extremely hungry.
He hadn't made it more than ten steps, before the fire whooshed behind him. He turned, and raced to catch his all-time favorite goddess in a hug.
"Hi Hestia!"
"Hello Harry," the kind goddess replied, giving him an amused smile. "Did you have a good time with Artie and her lieutenant?"
Harry nodded enthusiastically. "Miss Zoë's awesome! She speaks like before spelling was invented, it's great fun!"
Hestia smothered a laugh, knowing how the Hunter would react to such an admission. She was prickly about the English language, and how often it changed. "So you learned a lot, then?" the goddess asked, changing the subject.
Harry nodded again. "She taught me to put up a tent quicker than Artie's method," he said. "And she taught me a lot of new plants and trees and things. She said she'd keep teaching me as long as I kept working at it."
"I am glad to hear it," Hestia said, her customary smile in place.
Harry leaned in closer, as if divulging a secret. Hestia, curious, leaned in as well. "Miss Zoë's really pretty, too," he admitted. "But don't tell her I said that. She's a Hunter and I'm not supposed to notice." He finished with his finger to his lips.
Hestia smothered another laugh. "It'll be our secret," she promised.
Harry stepped back, and was about to resume his way to the kitchen, when he stopped and looked at her. "You came in really quickly after I came back. Were you watching me?"
Hestia just smiled gently. "I would be a poor goddess if I didn't keep an eye on my favorite mortal," she replied. Her smile widened slightly. "Besides, I don't have to watch you when you're coming home through the hearth."
"Because you're the Goddess of the Hearth and you know what happens with one," Harry said, remembering.
Hestia nodded. "Exactly," she smiled.
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