For the first time in weeks, life slowed down.
After the fiery battle with Crius and the careful concealment of Harry's involvement, he expected trouble to follow. But instead, it was oddly quiet—almost too quiet.
Classes at Princeton University resumed like normal. Students buzzed about assignments and deadlines, completely unaware that a Titan had nearly been resurrected. Each day, Harry returned home to Black Mansion, hoping for some peace.
But more often than not…
"Dada!"
A squeaky voice echoed as soon as Harry stepped through the door.
And then—thump thump thump—a tiny blur of color came toddling down the hallway, arms open wide and legs wobbling.
"Teddy!" Harry laughed, dropping his satchel just in time to catch the small boy in a soft hug. "Whoa there, you're getting fast!"
Teddy giggled and pointed toward the kitchen. "Yummy! Blue!"
"Blue?" Harry blinked. "What's blue?"
From inside the kitchen, a calm, warm voice called out, "He means the dessert. I made a new version of ambrosia."
Hestia stepped into the doorway, her hair in a loose braid and apron dusted with gold-flecked flour. She carried a glowing tray of star-shaped treats—shimmering in shades of pale blue and silver.
"I call them Chilled Stars," she said. "Teddy loves them."
"Bwoo star!" Teddy shouted, bouncing on his little feet.
"Okay, okay," Harry chuckled. "Let's not spoil dinner."
"He already had dinner," said Andromeda, walking by with a stack of magical recipe scrolls. "This is his third dessert."
"I made him a demigod," Hestia said proudly.
Harry rolled his eyes. "You spoiled him into a demigod."
Teddy raised his chubby fists in the air and roared, "RAWR!"
Harry laughed and hoisted the little boy up into his arms, planting a kiss on his soft blue hair—Teddy's magic was active again, tinting his hair to match his mood.
It was blue today. Happy.
But the moment Harry walked toward the living room, his mood shifted.
Someone was here.
"Back again?" he asked aloud, stepping inside.
"La maison is too charming to stay away," purred Aphrodite, lounging across the sofa in what appeared to be golden silk loungewear. She flipped through a copy of Wizarding Vogue with deliberate ease.
"You live in Olympus," Harry deadpanned. "Why are you here again?"
"I like the lighting better here," she said.
Behind her, Artemis appeared, crouched near the fireplace helping Teddy's wooden toy animals stand upright. She held up a plush centaur. "This one fell. He says he wants a cookie."
Teddy gasped dramatically. "Centa eat!"
"Tell him it's not cookie time," Harry muttered.
"Centa sad," Teddy said, sticking out his bottom lip.
Harry turned—only to freeze.
Athena sat at the far end of the dining table, flipping through a thick, rune-covered tome. She wore a soft grey cloak over Muggle jeans and a crisp white blouse, her hair tied back in a neat twist. Even in casual clothes, she carried an intimidating aura.
She looked up. "Welcome back, Harry."
"Thanks," he replied warily.
He put Teddy down, but kept a respectable distance from Athena.
She noticed. "Why are you standing like a hunted rabbit?"
"No reason."
"Is this about what Hestia said?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.
Harry flinched. "Maybe."
"I told you not to twist the myths," Athena said, turning her gaze to Hestia, who now looked innocently absorbed in piping magical whipped cream.
"I only said Athena has a unique method of reproduction," Hestia mumbled.
"Which is not spontaneous," Athena snapped. "I require full mental synchronization and a choice. I don't magically absorb children out of casual conversations."
Harry sighed and sank into the nearest chair. "Thank Merlin."
Teddy climbed into his lap with a little grunt. "Scawy 'Thena," he whispered.
Athena sighed. "I'm not scary."
"Scawy smart," Teddy nodded solemnly.
Artemis giggled.
That night, Harry sat on the balcony sipping cocoa while little Teddy snoozed in his crib upstairs, his hair slowly fading to a sleepy silver.
The stars shone brightly above, and the wind was still. But the house behind him wasn't empty.
Artemis stepped out, barefoot and quiet, and leaned against the railing beside him.
"You've gotten stronger," she said.
He nodded. "Trying to."
"No dreams?"
"Nothing. Not since Crius. I think it's finally over."
They stood in silence for a moment.
"You did something most never could," she added. "And you asked your devine parent for help."
Harry glanced down into his cup. "It felt wrong. Like cheating."
"It wasn't," Artemis said. "It was finally accepting your heritage."
He sighed. "Still... if Zeus finds out—"
"He won't," Artemis interrupted. "We're keeping your secret. You deserve peace."
Harry looked over. "Thanks. For everything."
She met his gaze. "Always."
Then, with a nod, she vanished into the shadows.
Inside, the living room glowed with soft light. Athena sat cross-legged on the rug, surrounded by books and scrolls. When Harry peeked in, she looked up, and for once, her expression softened.
"I made tea," he said, holding out a steaming cup.
"Thank you."
They sat in silence, sipping quietly.
"You're afraid of me," she said.
Harry nearly choked. "What? No. I mean… a little. You're… you."
Athena smirked. "I don't bite."
"That's not what Aphrodite says," he muttered.
Athena smiled and set her cup down. "You're more than you realize, Harry. But you're not alone. Not anymore."
Harry looked at her, then nodded slowly.
Maybe he wasn't alone.
But he was very outnumbered in this house.
Especially by women who could smite him if he said the wrong thing.
Still… life was good.
Chaotic. Crowded. Divine.
But good.
And somewhere upstairs, little Teddy snored like a kitten.
It was a quiet Sunday morning at the Black Mansion.
Sunlight streamed through the high windows, filtering in soft gold onto the polished floors. A gentle breeze stirred the enchanted curtains, and somewhere upstairs, the clock struck ten.
For once, the house wasn't full of divine chaos. No Olympian goddesses floated through the hallways. No scrolls, spears, or celestial arguments disturbed the peace.
Just Harry and Teddy.
"Hold still, mate," Harry said, crouched near the kitchen table as he tried to put a shirt over Teddy's wildly color-shifting hair.
"Nooo!" Teddy squealed with a giggle, wriggling away. "No shirt! I no want!"
"Too bad," Harry said, snatching him gently and wrestling the cotton shirt over the toddler's tiny arms. "It's Sunday Shirt Day."
"Sunday Sird Day!" Teddy repeated proudly, now distracted by the way the sleeves flopped when he waved.
Harry smiled. "Close enough."
No one had arrived.
Not even Hestia.
That was very unusual.
"Maybe they're having a meeting," Harry murmured aloud, though mostly to himself.
Teddy sat on the floor with his wooden unicorn toy, making little snorting sounds. "Uni go zoooom," he whispered.
Then—DING DONG.
The doorbell rang.
Harry blinked. "Now who could that be?"
He waved his hand casually, summoning a small magical projection in midair. A hazy image shimmered to life: a slim, nervous-looking boy stood outside the iron gates, shifting on cloven hooves. Curled horns poked out from his messy brown curls, and a simple traveling pack was slung over one shoulder.
"Ethan?" Harry stood. "I haven't seen him in months."
The satyr seemed older somehow. Tired. As if he'd been walking for days.
Harry lowered the projection and sent a silent magical pulse toward the gates.
They opened with a soft creak.
By the time Ethan Williams reached the steps of the mansion, Harry had already opened the front door.
"Ethan!" he greeted, genuine surprise in his voice. "You look like you just fought a pack of manticores and outran a hydra."
Ethan gave a weak grin. "Try three days working nonstop."
Harry stepped aside. "Come in. You're always welcome here."
The satyr stepped into the grand foyer, blinking against the calm and comfort of the mansion.
Behind Harry, Teddy peeked around the corner.
Ethan caught sight of the toddler. "Is that Teddy?"
"Yeah, but don't expect a hug," Harry said. "He's in his stranger danger phase."
Teddy narrowed his eyes. "Goat man?"
Harry raised a brow. "I mean, technically yes."
"Goat man smell funny," Teddy mumbled, nose wrinkled.
Ethan laughed. "That's… not inaccurate."
"Goat man no eat uni!" Teddy shouted, running off with his unicorn toy like he was protecting it from imminent satyr consumption.
Andromeda entered from the hallway, wiping her hands on a towel. "Ethan? Oh my, it's been too long."
"Lady Tonks." Ethan bowed respectfully. "Your cooking still smells better than half the ambrosia I've eaten."
She smiled. "Still charming."
With Teddy off guarding his toy herd in the nursery, Harry led Ethan into the drawing room and offered him tea. The satyr gratefully took the cup, cradling it in both hands.
"So," Harry asked, settling into the chair across from him. "What brings you here, Ethan? Last I heard, you were in Portugal, working with the nymph sanctuaries."
"I was," Ethan said. "Now I am back."
Harry sat up straighter, his expression turning from amused to serious as he studied Ethan's worn features. "Alright, Ethan," he said, his voice calm but firm. "You didn't come all this way just for tea. Why are you really here?"
Ethan lowered the teacup and placed it gently on the table. His hands trembled slightly.
"I need your help, Harry," he said, finally.
Harry's eyebrows knit together. "Help with what?"
Ethan let out a deep sigh, one of weariness and frustration. "It's about a dryad. A sacred one. She's dying."
Harry blinked. "A dryad? Like a tree spirit?"
"Yes," Ethan said, nodding quickly. "But not just any dryad. Her name is Aeval. She's the heart of a grove hidden in the Deep forest, in Portugal. That grove is ancient—older than Olympus, maybe even older than the Titans. It's a place of deep, wild magic. Her tree is the anchor."
Harry frowned. "And she's… withering?"
Ethan's expression darkened. "Yes. Her leaves are brittle. Her aura is fading. I've never seen anything like it. It's not natural. Dryads don't just die like that unless their trees are cut down or burned. But this time—" he paused, clenching his fists "—I think she was poisoned."
"Poisoned?" Andromeda asked, walking over and joining the conversation. "Intentionally?"
"Possibly," Ethan said. "But it could've been accidental too. The grove is so isolated, but lately there have been signs of intrusions. Burned grass. Cracked bark. Disturbed soil. I've spent the last three days trying to treat the tree with everything I know—satyr chants, offerings, herbal remedies—but nothing's working."
Harry leaned forward, hands clasped. "And you want me to try."
Ethan looked him in the eye. "You're the only one I could think of. You have magic strong enough to shake the Underworld. Maybe you can do something I can't."
Harry considered this. The room had gone silent, save for the ticking of the enchanted grandfather clock in the corner.
Then, softly, from the hallway, Teddy waddled in, dragging his unicorn by one leg.
"Tree go ouchie?" he asked, looking up at Ethan with wide eyes.
Ethan smiled faintly. "Yes, little one. Tree is very sick."
Teddy's lower lip trembled. "No sick. Tree need soup."
Harry chuckled. "Maybe not soup, but he's not wrong. We've got to give her something."
He stood. "Alright, Ethan. I'll come with you. We'll figure this out. But I'll need a bit more detail. You said it might be poison. Any clues what kind?"
Ethan pulled a folded piece of parchment from his pack and handed it over. "This is a rubbing of the symbol I found carved near the base of Aeval's tree. I didn't recognize it."
Harry unfolded it.
The symbol was a twisted knot of serpents curling into a crescent moon—ancient, but familiar in a dark way. A flicker of memory surfaced.
"I've seen this before," Harry muttered. "This is Nightshade Binding, a corruption glyph used by shadow druids."
Ethan's eyes widened. "So it was intentional."
"Most likely," Harry said. "Someone wants the grove to die. If the dryad fades, the nymphs vanish, and the ley line under the forest will weaken."
"And then someone else could harvest the broken magic," Andromeda said grimly.
Harry nodded. "Exactly."
Ethan rose to his feet. "Then we haven't got much time. Aeval was barely clinging on when I left. Another day or two and—" he stopped, unable to finish.
Harry placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "We'll go now. Let me get my satchel."
Ethan blinked. "You're not bringing any backup?"
Harry shook his head.
He turned to Teddy, who had toddled up to them, hugging his unicorn. "Teddy, I need to go on a small trip, alright?"
Teddy's eyes went wide. "No go, Dada. Tree soup here."
Harry knelt down. "I'll be back soon, little fox. You stay here with grandma and help make cookies, yeah?"
Teddy sniffled. "Cookie, then nap."
Harry smiled and ruffled his hair. "That's the spirit."
Andromeda took Teddy's hand. "Go. We'll be fine. I'll make sure he's safe."
Harry looked at Ethan. "Let's go save a tree."
___________________________________________
Details about bonus content can be found on my profile page.