Aphrodite's breath caught as her lips hovered inches from Harry's. She had kissed emperors, warlords, poets, and gods—but this was different. For the first time in her immortal life, she was not chasing victory, she was chasing… hope.
Harry didn't move. His eyes were calm, steady, and searching, and that only deepened her conflict. What if this kiss changed nothing? What if he pushed her away?
She swallowed, heart pounding in a way she thought long dead. Just as her lips almost brushed his, voices broke through the night.
"—I told you, you're drunk again!"
"Oh, don't start, you're always nagging!"
The sound was sharp, carrying through the thin cabin walls next door. A door slammed, followed by another round of muffled shouting.
Harry froze, shoulders tensing. Aphrodite let out a frustrated breath and pulled back. Both of them could hear the argument as if they were standing right inside, their sharpened senses making the quarrel impossible to ignore.
Harry rubbed his forehead, muttering, "Of course. Right when—" He cut himself off, glancing away.
Aphrodite leaned back with a sigh, half irritated, half amused. "Mortals. Always shouting, even when they're supposed to be on holiday."
"They're loud enough to wake Teddy," Harry said, already listening for sounds from their own cabin. The boy's breathing remained steady.
Aphrodite tilted her head, watching Harry's expression soften with relief. Then she chuckled faintly, though her eyes still burned with the frustration of a stolen moment. "You know… only you, Harry Potter, could make the goddess of love lose a kiss to bickering strangers."
Harry glanced at her, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. "Maybe that's a sign."
"A sign," she echoed, her tone teasing but her chest tight. "Or just very bad timing."
They sat in silence for a moment, the fight next door still echoing like a reminder of the chaos of mortal life. Aphrodite leaned back against the wall, her heart still pounding. Harry turned his attention toward the small room where Teddy slept, as if reminding himself of his priorities.
The moment was gone—but neither of them could pretend it hadn't almost happened.
Harry woke earlier than usual, the faint sound of waves rolling against the shore drifting through the open window. He rubbed his eyes, stretched, and then noticed that Teddy was already awake, perched at the edge of the bed with his favorite toy Occamy clutched in his hands. The boy's eyes were bright, filled with that same restless energy Harry had seen yesterday when he discovered the ocean for the first time.
"You're up early, champ," Harry said with a smile.
"Beach, Daddy. Beach!" Teddy insisted, bouncing slightly.
Harry chuckled, but his eyes flickered toward the bedroom. Aphrodite had insisted on sleeping beside Teddy last night. She'd practically wrapped him in her arms like an overprotective mother hen, refusing to let him out of her sight once he grew attached to her during their beach day.
Harry sighed. He knew her well enough now: if he and Teddy slipped out without her, he'd never hear the end of it.
He knocked lightly on the doorframe. "Aphrodite," he called gently. "Wake up. Teddy wants the beach."
The goddess stirred, stretching lazily as though the whole world could wait for her to rise. Her golden hair spilled across the pillow, catching the sunlight in dazzling streaks. She sat up slowly, her eyes half-lidded, and gave Harry a mischievous grin.
"You couldn't handle one morning without me?" she teased.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "It's Teddy you'll have to explain that to. He wants you with him. You made an impression yesterday."
Teddy tugged at her arm, his small voice chiming in, "Come, 'Phrodite. Beach!"
Her expression softened instantly. No goddess, not even one as timeless as Aphrodite, could resist the earnest pull of a child. She gathered Teddy up in her arms, kissing his forehead. "Well, who am I to deny a request like that?"
Harry gave her a look. "You'll be ready in five minutes?"
"Five?" She arched an elegant brow. "Darling, I'm a goddess. I can make mortals fall in love in a heartbeat. Do you really think I need more than a blink to be ready?" She snapped her fingers, and her casual robe transformed into a breezy sundress, light as sea foam, perfect for the beach.
Harry shook his head, amused. "Show off."
By the time they stepped out of the cabin, Teddy was practically skipping between them, holding Aphrodite's hand tightly. His excitement bubbled over in little bursts—pointing at seashells, shouting every time a gull flew overhead, laughing as the tide came in to splash his feet.
"Slow down, little wave-chaser!" Aphrodite laughed, lifting her dress to avoid the water as Teddy dragged her into the surf. She glanced back at Harry, her eyes shining with triumph. "See? He likes me best."
Harry smirked, walking beside them with his hands in his pockets. "Don't get cocky. He's just thrilled someone will play with him until he drops."
"Mm," she murmured, squeezing Teddy's tiny hand. "Or maybe he just knows who really has the heart to spoil him."
Harry rolled his eyes but couldn't stop the smile tugging at his lips.
They spent the morning exploring tide pools, building a sandcastle that Teddy insisted needed "a dragon guard," and chasing waves back and forth. By the time the sun began to climb higher, Teddy was dripping wet, his hair plastered to his forehead, but his grin was wide and unstoppable.
Harry couldn't deny it—the boy had grown attached to Aphrodite, and for the first time, the goddess seemed to be relishing something more than just flirting or showing off. She looked… content.
The three of them walked back toward the cabin, Teddy still chattering about the crabs he'd caught in a bucket. Harry noticed the neighboring cabin door slightly ajar, voices carrying on the sea breeze. His steps slowed when he saw the woman step out. Her face was pale, and the faint red imprint of a hand across her cheek made Harry's jaw tighten.
A bald man followed her, arms crossed, scowling at the sand like it had personally insulted him. His voice was sharp, cutting through the quiet.
"Then why did you come here? You know I hate the bloody beach. So why?"
The woman's voice shook, but she stood her ground. "Because this is the only place I feel… free. Every summer I come here with my son, and you—"
The man cut her off with a sneer. "Your son? You mean your brat? Running around like a wild dog while you…" His eyes narrowed. "While you meet someone behind my back, is that it? That's why you always insist on coming here?"
Harry felt heat rise in his chest. Abusive husband, he thought instantly. He'd seen that look before, seen that cruelty, and he wanted to punch the man very bad.
Aphrodite stiffened beside him, her eyes narrowing. For all her playfulness and charm, there was no mistaking the goddess's rage now. Her voice was a low hiss only Harry could hear.
"Men like him make me sick. Always controlling, always tearing down the women they claim to love."
Before Harry could speak, a boy came sprinting up from the surf, dripping wet, seaweed tangled around his ankles. His laughter filled the air until he spotted the tension, and his smile faltered. He ran straight to the woman and grabbed her hand.
"Mom? What's wrong?"
Harry's heart lurched. Not from the words, but from the feeling. A pulse of energy rolled off the boy, subtle but unmistakable—half-blood. Demigod.
Aphrodite caught the same flicker. Her sharp eyes softened as she whispered, "He's one of ours… a child of the gods."
Harry crouched slightly, his instincts already churning. He didn't recognize the boy's parentage, but he could feel the divine spark flickering like a candle flame. And it meant one thing: wherever this child went, danger would follow. Monsters could sniff that out from miles away.
The man barked harshly, yanking the woman's wrist. "Get inside, both of you. I don't want neighbors seeing us like this."
Harry's hand clenched tighter around his wand. He exchanged a look with Aphrodite. Both of them knew this wouldn't be the end of it.
Harry told Aphrodite to take Teddy and go inside. He would go meet the family, and Aphrodite knew from the way his jaw tightened that he was planning something. Still, she didn't argue, just scooped Teddy into her arms and carried him back to the cabin, muttering about snacks and water to distract the little boy.
Harry walked across the sand and knocked firmly on the door of the neighboring cabin. A moment later, it swung open to reveal the bald man, broad-shouldered and sour-faced. He glared at Harry as if daring him to speak.
"I'm Harry Potter," Harry said calmly, nodding toward his own cabin. "I'm staying next door. We heard shouting last night, and I wanted to check if everything's all right."
The man sneered. "So what? You should mind your own business. Don't interfere where you don't belong."
Harry's eyes hardened. He could still see the red imprint on the woman's cheek from earlier. Without another word, he drew back his fist and drove it into the man's face. The punch wasn't even full force—just a flicker of his strength—yet the man's eyes rolled back and he crumpled unconscious to the wooden floorboards.
The thud drew the woman rushing from inside, her face pale, her cheek flushed with that ugly mark. A boy came running behind her, dripping wet from the sea, his bare feet slapping against the floor.
Harry turned to them and gave a small smile, soft and reassuring. "Hello. I'm Harry Potter. My family and I rented the cabin next door. Would you like to come over and meet them?"
The woman hesitated, still staring at the man lying on the floor. Then she glanced at Harry, weighing something in her eyes before she finally spoke.
"I'm Sally Jackson," she said quietly. She laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. "And this is my son, Percy."
The boy stared up at Harry with sharp green eyes, defiant and curious all at once. Harry felt it immediately—the unmistakable tug of divine blood. A demigod.
He smiled at Percy, crouching a little so their eyes met. "It's good to meet you both. Why don't you come next door? My son Teddy would love to meet someone his age."
Harry watched as Percy pulled Teddy along toward the waves, the smaller boy laughing as he tried to keep up. Sally's voice rang out behind them, sharp but motherly.
"Percy, don't take him too close to the beach!
Okey!" Teddy called back, copying Percy's confidence with a grin, even though he stumbled in the sand.
Harry's gaze lingered on the two boys before turning back to Sally. His voice was low, edged with the same disapproval he'd felt since last night.
"Why are you with him?" he asked, glancing toward the cabin where the bald man still lay unconscious.
Sally hesitated, folding her arms over herself as though shielding from a storm. "Because of my circumstances," she whispered. "Life doesn't always give you many choices."
Harry nodded slowly. "I understand hard choices better than most." His eyes sharpened. "But I also know this—your son is a half-bood. A demigod, and hiding him behind a man like that won't keep him safe."
Sally froze, her mouth opening slightly. "How do you know that?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Harry raised his hand and gestured toward the cabin. From the doorway stepped Aphrodite, no longer disguised, her divine presence filling the space like sunlight breaking through clouds. Sally gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.
"This is Aphrodite," Harry said gently. "One of the Olympians."
Sally's knees almost buckled, and her eyes darted toward Percy playing in the distance. "He told me never to involve the others. This is the first time—aside from him—that I've ever seen one of you."
Harry's tone softened, but he pressed forward. "Then tell me plainly—who is Percy's father?"
Sally swallowed hard, then spoke the name with both pride and fear. "He is Poseidon."
Aphrodite's expression flickered, and she gave a knowing sigh. "So this is the child Poseidon spoke about at council. He couldn't stop himself from mentioning it, no matter how Hades glared at him."
Sally's eyes filled with tears. "He… He spoke of Percy?"
"Yes," Aphrodite said simply. "Your son is not forgotten."
And in that moment, Sally's face changed, the years of quiet worry and hardship softening under the warmth of hope. For the first time in years, she felt she wasn't carrying her burden alone.
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