Harry woke up early, as he usually did. He also found Nemmy purring close by, as had become usual since the Nemean Lion had started living at Helios' temple. Also as usual, the cat had reverted to its full and massive form.
The only thing unusual was the fact that he wasn't in his bed. Instead, he was in the living area, with the Nemean Lion behind him as some kind of soft, furry, and above all warm body pillow. Also present were Annabeth and Silena, who had also spent the night sleeping on top of, or next to, said Nemean Lion.
Silena had sprawled out on top of the huge lion's back; one arm dangling down its side, head tilted so one ear was pushed against the Lion's soft fur. Apparently, its breathing, heartbeat, and lion-like purring were quite soothing as the daughter of Aphrodite had a relaxed smile on her lips as she slept.
On the other side, Annabeth had nestled against the Lion's front legs, and had actually grabbed hold of one of those front legs and was cuddling it like an oversized stuffed toy.
Harry had to repress a chuckle at the sight; Annabeth had been cautious about the Lion for most of the evening, although she had started to warm up to him after a few hours.
Harry stood up, and managed a look at the Nemean Lion's face. The huge cat lazily opened its eyes and blinked slowly; not at all put out at being used as either a pillow, a mattress, or a plushy. In fact, it seemed quite pleased with the setup, and closed its eyes and apparently had decided to go back to sleep.
Smiling widely, Harry made his way to the kitchen area. After preparing foodstuffs for breakfast, and making sure everything was ready for him to start cooking when the others woke up, the young demigod made his way outside.
He didn't know how much time he had, so he decided on a short young-style Tai Chi set. Despite his determination not to sink too deeply, before long he had retreated his senses from the outside world and was fully engaged in the energy flowing through his body as he exercised.
As he moved, a small part of him wondered why Hestia hadn't joined them for dinner the day before. He knew she liked to drop by during a mealtime.
Then, he realized his own words at camp. Hestia would never put herself forward, and she may have thought that it would be better for her not to show up. Harry felt kind of bad about that, Hestia was always welcome to eat with him, and he wished he'd told her that.
Then again, maybe Annabeth and Silena would have been uncomfortable with a goddess at the table.
That part made him feel even worse; he wanted his friends to get along with Hestia. Hestia was awesome, and he wanted his friends to know her well.
He breathed, and let the thought flee. He'd remember and check with Hestia to make sure she wasn't upset later, just to make sure. For now, he had to complete his exercise.
A few minutes later, he stopped, falling back into rest, and breathed out. His senses snapped back into focus; immediately he heard breathing.
He opened his eyes, to find Annabeth and Silena watching him, smiling widely.
"Morning Harry!" Annabeth said, voice sounding excited, followed half a second later by Silena also wishing him a good morning while sounding just as hyped up.
"Was that Tai Chi?" The Daughter of Athena asked. "Is that why you were able to slap Clarisse?"
"Yes, that's Tai Chi," Harry said. "And yes and no," he answered her second question.
Annabeth pouted. "Well that's clear," she stated while Silena chuckled.
Harry grinned. "Every martial art has its use," he explained. "Tai Chi is excellent for many things, but it's not all that I use. I'm learning lots of martial arts, and I basically use a combination of them."
"Oh," The Daughter of Athena said. "That makes sense, I guess."
Harry smiled widely. "I know," he answered with playful arrogance, making the girl pout deeper. "How about some breakfast?" he asked on a more normal tone.
"Ooh! What are we having?" Silena asked.
"I was thinking, French Toast," Harry replied. "I've got enough fresh fruit to make raspberry sauce or strawberry sauce if you would like some."
"Excellent!" Silena said, rubbing her hands together like a movie villain, causing Annabeth and Harry to laugh at her antics.
"By the way," Annabeth said, turning back to Harry, "Nemmy really is a big softy, isn't he?"
Harry grinned at her. "Lions live in groups; I guess he's just happy to have people around him again. Having us crawl all over him probably triggers some instinct for cubs doing the same."
Annabeth nodded thoughtfully. "That could make sense," she said. "Even if he's a monster, he's still a lion."
"Don't let it fool you, though," Harry added. "He's smart. I'm not sure how smart, but smart enough to understand bargains and surrendering and stuff, so he's more than likely smart enough to understand spoken English."
Silena laughed. "That's awesome!"
Harry laughed as well. "That doesn't mean he's not a cat, though. He'll only do something if he wants to, and laze about the rest of the time. Just because he understands us doesn't mean he'll listen."
"As he demonstrated yesterday when he refused to listen to you," Silena said. "Or help you when Annabeth and I tickled you."
Harry pouted at them. "I still feel you overreacted."
Annabeth huffed and looked away theatrically. "You put the awful visual of broccoli pancakes in our minds. You deserved it."
Silena just laughed at Harry's pout.
"You girls are mean," the boy protested playfully.
"Extremely," Annabeth said with a grin.
"Absolutely," Silena concurred. "And don't you forget it."
Harry laughed. "With Artie and Miss Zoë as teachers, I know girls are scarier than guys," he confirmed. "How about we all get dressed? I'll start breakfast while you girls do your secret girl rituals and stuff."
The two girls looked confused.
"I've heard girls take a lot longer than boys to get dressed," Harry said, noticing their confusion.
Silena, quick on the draw, was always up for some fun. Immediately, she asked, "Who told you about the secret rituals?" Snapping around to face Annabeth, she demanded, "Did you tell him about the secret rituals?"
Annabeth, not as quick on the draw as he friend, managed a startled "wha-" before catching on. "I would never betray the sisterhood that way!" she protested vigorously. Two girls turned to Harry and glared. "Who betrayed us?" The Daughter of Athena demanded.
Harry laughed. "I would never betray a confidence like that," he said, strolling passed them. "I'm getting dressed and then I'll start breakfast. It should be done by the time you're done with your… not-so-secret… rituals."
Both girls giggled, and chased him inside.
0000
Harry put the first plate down on the altar in front of Helios' statue, just as he had done yesterday evening, and looked up at the giant figure. "I guess the girls' secret rituals take even longer than I thought," he told his benefactor.
The presence of Helios conveyed both a measure of gratitude, as well as a note of caution, which Harry took as meaning, "Don't let them hear you say that".
Smiling to himself, Harry returned to the kitchen with an empty plate, only to find that Nemmy had finished his breakfast and had decided that the middle of the floor was an excellent place to rest.
That the middle of the floor was the most inconvenient spot possible was of no concern to the feline, who just stayed on its side and turned its head to watch Harry ambling around.
Harry laughed and shook his head. After putting the empty plate in the sink, he leaned down to give the Nemean House Cat a petting.
"A boy and his cat," Silena teased as she entered the kitchen and saw them.
Both Harry and Nemmy looked at the girl, before looking at each other.
Annabeth emerged as well, grinning. "You two should see yourselves," she said. "You both gave her identical looks, it's hilarious!"
"That's because we're awesome," Harry said, holding up a fist towards the cat. Annabeth opened her mouth to respond, when the cat raised one paw and tapped the front of it against Harry's fist.
"Did that cat just fist-bump you?" Silena asked, as if she couldn't believe what she just saw.
Harry laughed. "I told you, Nemmy's awesome." He looked down at his pet. "I told you we'd get someone to freak with that," he said to the cat.
Nemmy nodded. Harry held up an open hand.
"No..." Silena said.
Nemmy tapped the bottom of its paw against Harry's open palm.
"He high-fives, too!" the Daughter of Aphrodite squealed.
Harry laughed and straightened out after giving the cat one last petting. "When he feels like it, yes. He's a cat. Sometimes he likes playing and doing stuff, other times he just wants to lie there and play doormat."
"Like when he sat there and did nothing yesterday when we tickled you," Annabeth said, having taken a seat at the table. Silena, still halfway in shock, just sunk down into a seat as well.
Harry chuckled and turned to the stove after washing his hands. While Nemmy was a monster, and therefore couldn't carry diseases, it was better to be sure. "Quite likely, yes," he said.
"Harry?" Annabeth asked, suddenly curious about something.
"Yes?" he asked with a grin.
"I'm just curious. Where's Nemmy's litter box? I mean, unless being a monster means you don't need to go… you-know."
Harry laughed and turned back to the stove. "Nemmy? Care to field this one?"
The Nemean House Cat gave a theatrical put-upon look at the back of the cooking boy. Finally, he looked at Annabeth, who was looking expectantly at him. Sighing again, he pointed in the direction of the bathroom door with one paw.
"Nooo," Silena muttered, as if she still couldn't believe it.
Harry laughed louder. "Oh yes. Nemmy's awesome, I told you that."
"You trained your cat to use a toilet? Really?" The Daughter of Aphrodite asked.
Nemmy gave her a look.
"I didn't need to train him into anything," Harry answered casually. "He knew from the get-go."
The two girls fell silent, staring at Nemmy in adoration. The Nemean House Cat puffed itself up, and gave them a look that said their worship was well received.
For the next few minutes, Harry continued cooking. Suddenly, Annabeth drew his attention. "Harry?" she asked, giving him to pleading-puppy look.
"O-oh," Harry muttered. "What's wrong, Annabeth?" he asked, flipping over the French toast to make sure it browned evenly.
"Will you come with us to camp? For lunch?" she asked.
Harry looked at her with confusion. "Why the pleading eyes?" he asked, before crossing his arms. "Are you planning on putting me in another game? Because you heard Chiron," he asked sternly.
The Daughter of Athena shook her head. "I just wanted to do some tests on your running up walls," she said. "Please?" The puppy-eyes were turned higher.
The young boy grinned. "Sure," he said. "As long as you don't ask me specifics on how I do it."
Annabeth pouted, but nodded. "Deal!" she said, theatrically sticking out her hand. Harry laughed, and shook it. Remembering his earlier thoughts about his all-time favorite goddess, he made a short prayou're to Hestia, asking her if she would like to join them for breakfast as he turned back to his stove. He wanted to be sure that she knew she was invited and that he'd like her here.
Five minutes later, he doled out food to his guests and to himself, feeling a bit disappointed that Hestia didn't show. Then again, she could be busy somewhere. That happened on occasion.
The easy banter and the laughter pulling him away from his thoughts, and he returned easily to the there and then.
0000
It was over an hour later that the three young demigods strolled casually out of the fire at Camp Half-Blood.
"Hestia!" Harry shouted, noticing a certain all-time favorite goddess of his tending to the fire. He quickly stepped over to her and drew her into a hug.
"Hello Harry," Hestia answered, amused, as she hugged him back.
"I thought you might have joined us for dinner yesterday. Or for breakfast this morning," he confided in her.
Hestia gave him a gentle smile. "I heard your prayer earlier," she confirmed. "I thought it would be best if I didn't make things awkward. Most demigods are skittish around gods, and I thought it might make things uncomfortable."
"Oh," Harry answered. "I was hoping you'd get along with my friends, though."
Hestia graced him with a wider smile. "I'm sure I would get along with them fabulously," she answered calmly. "The question is, would they be able to get along with me? After all, as I said, most demigods are skittish around the gods."
Harry pouted at her. "If they never see you, then we'll never know," he replied.
The Goddess of the Home laughed softly. "There is wisdom in that," she said. "Very well, I will join you should you have friends over. I would be most happy to get to know them."
"Thanks, Hestia," Harry said, hugging her just a bit tighter before releasing her.
"Good morning, Lady Hestia," Annabeth said respectfully as the conversation broke up.
Silena nodded. "Good morning, My Lady," she added, just as respectfully.
Harry conceded that Hestia might have been right. The way his friends acted around Hestia could have been very awkward. Hilarious, maybe, but awkward.
"Good morning, girls," Hestia said, kindly. "Did you enjoy your visit?"
Silena just nodded rapidly, a bit more rapid than was generally considered good manners but was obviously governed by the fact that she was nervous around a major goddess.
"We did, Lady Hestia," Annabeth replied verbally, managing to keep her composure better than her friend. "It was a lot of fun."
"I am glad to hear it," Hestia said, still offering her usual, gentle smile. She looked at Harry. "I trust you have been a good host?" she asked.
Harry nodded with a grin. "Of course!"
"He made us eat vegetables," Silena mock complained. Annabeth speared her side with an elbow.
Hestia, meanwhile, smiled in a pleased manner. "That's good. Vegetables are healthy."
Silena, recognizing that she was basically mouthing off in front of a major goddess, attempted to save face. "They tasted really good, though."
"It's the vinaigrette," Harry replied with a smile.
"I'm glad to hear that I won't have to listen to tales of kissing or inappropriately wandering hands," Hestia commented with a teasing grin. A teasing grin that widened when Silena turned red and Annabeth turned white.
"I feel there is a story behind those reactions," The Goddess of the Home said. She was sure that nothing inappropriate had gone on; she trusted Harry implicitly.
"Silena managed to cut her finger while cutting up the vegetables," Harry said. "So I kissed it better."
"Kissed it better, you say?" Hestia asked, still teasing.
Harry nodded. "I kissed it, and the wound closed."
The Goddess of the Hearth stared at him for a few moments. "Your boon increased in strength yet again," she stated. "Please be responsible with its gifts."
"I will, Hestia!" Harry said, eagerly.
The goddess nodded at him, then turned at Annabeth. "That explains Silena's reaction. What had the Daughter of Athena go pale?" she asked.
Harry pouted at said Daughter of Athena. "They tickled me. And Nemmy wouldn't help, the lazy sod."
Hestia gave a sharp giggle. "It sounds like you three had a really good evening."
The two girls nodded, desperately trying not to think about the events that had just been discussed. Harry pouted at not finding any help against friends tickling him.
"I'm very glad you enjoyed yourselves, and that you, Harry, managed to stay out of trouble," Hestia said with a grin.
Harry pouted harder. "Trouble finds me, I don't go looking for it!" he protested.
"Of course, of course," Hestia said. "Nemmy," she reminded him.
Harry frowned at her.
Hestia just laughed. "I should go; I have some work to do. Enjoy your day, girls. Harry, I'll be around for dinner, if that's okay," the Goddess of Hearth and Home said to the three young demigods.
Silena and Annabeth thanked her, while Harry said, excitedly, "Of course that's okay!"
Hestia smiled at him, and then turned to walk back to the camp's fire, doing mysterious things to it.
Desperate to change the subject, Harry turned to Annabeth and said, "You wanted to see me run up walls, right, Annabeth?"
The Daughter of Athena nodded eagerly. "Yes! And we need to do tests to see how much you can carry! And if you need a running start or can start from a standstill! And if you can carry someone! And if you can stop yourself from falling! And – !"
"Good luck," Silena mouthed to Harry, who was staring in silent horror to one of his best friends creating a list that would take up the rest of the day, if not longer.
"Hey, it's the newbie!" a male voice shouted. All three demigods turned, and saw a huge Son of Ares approaching. "Fight me, Newbie!" he demanded. He looked like he was 15 or 16, and built out of pure muscle, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts and a white sleeveless t-shirt.
"No, thank you," Harry politely declined and turned back to his friends.
The muscular boy stopped right next to the trio. "I said, fight me, Newbie."
"I must decline. I don't like fighting," Harry said, not at all impressed with the boy's attitude, and turning to walk away.
"Mark, don't be an ass!" Clarisse shouted, approaching from the other side.
"I'll be an ass whenever I want, kiddie," the boy snapped at her. "Now be quiet or I'll kick your ass again."
Clarisse bristled, actually grabbing her spear.
"You're good for a little girl, but you need some more meat on your bones before you can take me," Mark snapped at her, before rounding on Harry.
"Hestia's a useless goddess, anyway, so it figures you're useless, too," He mocked. Loudly. Gasps came from the demigods who heard him; insulting gods was not done. Mostly because those gods were full of wrath and vengeance, and would happily smite someone who insulted them. Except Hestia, of course, but nobody ever had anything bad to say about the kind and gentle Goddess of the Home and Hearth.
Harry froze. He didn't care what people said about him, but Hestia was out of bounds. Red-hot fury bubbled up from his chest, making him see red and black.
Then, through a haze of anger, he saw Hestia. Hestia, who had heard the words of the demigod. Hestia, who had been looking proud as he refused a fight.
She looked sad now, her shoulders dropping just the barest fraction of distance, but noticeably nonetheless.
The red-hot fury that had been robbing him of rational thought turned ice cold, and settled in his gut. As high as his emotions had been, just as low they were now. Where he had been unable to think, now he could do nothing but.
And his thoughts settled on one thing and one thing only.
He was going to break this boy.
"MARK! You ass! You don't insult the gods like that!" Clarisse shouted, being held back by two other boys, preventing her from just jumping her brother, size difference or not.
"Excuse me?" Harry asked the boy while looking over his shoulder, completely ignoring Clarisse's shout. Hestia would demand he give the boy a chance to repent. So, he was going to give him a chance to apologize.
"You heard me," the demigod said. "Hestia's a useless goddess. Anyone who has her for a patron has got to be as useless as she is."
The onlookers had hushed before, but now they fell completely silent. Even Clarisse, who had been yelling and cursing, fell silent – especially after she saw the look on Harry's face.
"Kick his ass," she said; her voice was soft, but sounded like a gunshot in the awful silence that clung to Camp Half-Blood.
Harry closed his eyes, balling his fists. "I'm giving you five seconds to apologize," he stated. Children of Ares were thick; he needed to state it aloud. I'm giving you a chance. For Hestia's sake.
"For what? Telling the truth about the only goddess who's completely and utterly useless?" Mark remarked, laughing loudly.
Harry's balled fists relaxed. The ice cold spread throughout his body, his mind thinking ahead. He was going to break Mark, and he was going to break him badly enough that it would serve as a warning for the future, to anyone who would be foolish enough to even consider insulting Hestia in his presence.
My advantage, my speed and agility. His advantage, his size and strength. First, rush in. He is right-handed, and will throw an experienced right-hook. Stop immediately, jump out of range, grab his fist as it sails past with right hand. Place left hand behind elbow. Break wrist. Shatter elbow. Dislocate shoulder. Kick back of knee, hard, bringing target to lower level. Release his arm, apply right-handed open-hand strike to windpipe, collapsing the airway and bruising the throat. Drop body. Apply heel-stomp to diaphragm to force-expel air through collapsed airway.
He drew another breath, feeling the cold rationality of thought compelling him forward.
The young demigod rushed in, jumped back to allow the right-hook to fly past, grabbed the boy's right wrist with his own right hand, placed his left hand, and broke the wrist of his opponent; immediately followed by the shattering of the elbow and the dislocation of the shoulder. Harry kicked the back of the boy's knee, hard, doing substantial damage to the other boy's knee and forcing him to the ground, making him land on the knee Harry had just damaged.
Harry released his opponent's mangled arm, ignored the scream of pain that only now appeared, and hit him as hard in the throat as he could with his rigid, open, right hand, making Mark gurgle strangely as his scream was cut off, before letting him drop to the ground and stomping on the boy's diaphragm as hard as he could with his right heel. The air in Mark's lungs was forcibly expelled through his collapsed throat, giving a curious mix of wheezing pain.
Harry stepped back and eyed his broken opponent, who was on the floor, on his back, gasping desperately for breath, eyes filled with tears of pain.
The young boy leaned in. "Never insult Hestia again. I have been trained by Lady Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt; the next time I will draw my knife and practice butchering techniques. And when I'm done, I have a pet that will gladly get rid of evidence for me."
Through his tears, his gasps, and his pain, Mark fully heard and understood what Harry was saying, and he looked afraid. Really afraid.
Harry straightened up, looking at the boy's midsection with a look of distaste on his face. "You just soiled yourself," he said, out loud, where the onlookers could hear him. "You should have put on brown pants so people won't notice. Other than the smell, of course."
"Holy crap," Clarisse yelled. "I'm glad you just slapped me now!"
Harry dipped his head at her, recognizing that she had tried to stop her oaf of a brother. He eyed the two boys who had held her back instead. They released her and raised their hands. His eyes narrowed slightly, contemplating whether they had been on Mark's side or not. They raised their hands higher, as if surrendering to the police. He decided to let it go.
He looked over his shoulder, at the whimpering, gasping, wheezing, crying boy on the ground. "You made me angry. And now I must go apologize to Hestia for that unseemly display," he stated, and walked away. The demigods that had watched the exchange started muttering amongst themselves; mostly revolving around how Mark got what he deserved.
"And this, campers, is why we do not insult each other's patron gods," Chiron said, trotting up. He'd obviously watched the exchange and had chosen not to interrupt; like most, he had a soft spot for Hestia and disliked hearing her being insulted.
The centaur looked with supreme disappointment at the shattered heap that used to be a Son of Ares. "You have a broken wrist and a shattered elbow, a dislocated shoulder, a shattered knee, a collapsed trachea, and bleeding diaphragm. It'll take weeks to get you back on your feet, and you may never get back to how you were. I hope you learned your lesson," he stated firmly and not at all sympathetic.
Meanwhile, Harry walked up to Hestia, the other demigods giving him a respectful, but not fearful, distance. The moment he caught sight of her, the cold released him and his emotions raged back. Rather than fury, he felt anguish – anguish and worry. How would Hestia react? Would he lose her over this?
"I'm sorry, I lost my temper," he whispered to her, looking down at the floor.
Hestia sighed. "You reacted to a provocation," she told him. "It was a glaring provocation, but a provocation nonetheless."
Harry shrunk, feeling rather sure what was coming next. "But," Hestia said, dragging him from his dark thoughts, "I am glad that you're not hurt." She glanced at the Son of Ares, who was being 'helped' to a stretcher by a familiar set of Sons of Apollo under the watchful eye of Chiron. "Even if that boy was… rude."
She hugged him, and he released his breath. "You're a demigod, Harry. Things like this happen. It was to be expected. It is why I allowed Ares and Athena and even Artie and her Lieutenant to help with your training." She glanced at the whimpering boy again. "It seems your training paid off."
Harry nodded feebly, not really knowing what to say. "I do wish you would apologize to him, however. I do not like conflict, and by apologizing to him you will not make an enemy of him," the gentle goddess requested.
The young demigod looked white. "What?" he asked, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.
Hestia graced him with her usual, gentle, smile. "Please go apologize to him. He doesn't have to accept it, but I would like for it to not become a repeating issue."
Harry's shoulders slumped. That was going to be tough. He just nodded silently; it was Hestia who asked him, and if Hestia asked him, he would obey because she would never steer him wrong.
He slumped towards the Son of Ares, who was now on the stretcher and had been lifted up by a certain set of twin Sons of Apollo.
"Nice job, Harry," Jack – or Jim – said with a wink.
Harry gave the boy a wan smile. "Hestia says I have to apologize," he confided, before turning to the wheezing, broken, wreck of a boy on the stretcher. A boy who still couldn't catch a full breath, and who still looked afraid. Not to mention, in a lot of pain.
"I'm sorry I hurt you that badly," Harry told him. "I should have pulled back a little and let you get in a strike or two; it would have been fairer that way. So – sorry about breaking you like that."
The twins' shoulders shook with repressed laughter. The Son of Ares looked blank, as if he couldn't believe what Harry had just said. Snickers went through the small crowd of onlookers who were close enough to hear. Chiron looked like he couldn't decide whether to laugh or look disapproving.
Harry ignored them all, gave the stretchered Son of Ares a nod of his head, and started to walk away.
"That hurt him right in the pride," the Guy – either Jack or Jim – the one who had spoken to him before – said.
Harry blinked. "What do you mean?" he asked, confused.
The Guys seemed to have no issue holding up the stretcher with the Son of Ares and keep up a conversation at the same time, and they seemed perfectly fine with ignoring his wheezing or groaning. "You just apologized for beating the crap out of him, and apologized for not holding back so he could get in a hit or two – basically implying that it wasn't a fair fight."
"Oh," Harry said, still looking surprised. "I honestly didn't mean it like that," he replied, glancing at Mark. He looked back at the Guy he was talking to. "As long as he doesn't insult Hestia again."
The Guy looked amused, still repressing laughter. "Whatever you say, Harry," he said. "Let's go!" he told his brother, who gave a nod. In perfect sync, they started walking towards the infirmary.
Harry just watched as they stretchered the injured Son of Ares to the infirmary, lost in thought, not sure where to go from here. He hated violence, hating hurting people, and now he'd done some major damage to someone. Someone who deserved it, true, but still…
"That was brilliant," Clarisse said, stepping next to him and watching her brother be carted off. "He totally deserved it, the jackass. I'm glad you only slapped me," she repeated.
Harry offered her a tiny, broken grin. "You didn't really want to hurt me, and you never insulted me or Hestia," he answered, before sighing deeply. "I hate violence. Someone always gets hurt."
Silena and Annabeth had joined them by now, but remained silent. Clarisse glanced in the direction of the infirmary and shrugged. "He deserved it."
Harry remained silent.
"Wanna spar?" Clarisse asked, grinning at him.
"What?" Harry asked, pulled from his thoughts and not sure he heard her correctly.
"Wanna spar?" Clarisse repeated, smile widening.
"No thanks," he repeated instantly.
The Daughter of Ares pouted at him. "You sure? Everyone of my brothers and sisters are gonna bug you for a spar now. As long as it's a spar. Injuries are part of the game, but things that take weeks to heal, even with ambrosia, aren't."
Harry shook his head tolerantly. "You Children of Ares are way too into fighting," he said, amused.
"Yup!" Clarisse said, proudly. "Daughter of the God of War, duh!" she added. "Besides, a good spar gets the blood flowing. It's the best way to get better."
Harry was silent for a few moments. "Perhaps," he finally allowed. "I just don't want to hurt anybody."
She laughed and slapped his shoulder. "All the more reason for a spar, so you learn to hold back and not hurt anybody you don't want to hurt. And trust me; learning not to hurt someone can be just as hard as learning how to hurt them in the first place."
"Really?" Harry asked, wondering if she were having him on.
"Hell if I know, but it sounded good," Clarisse said with a laugh. "Come on, Newbie. Let's wrestle for a bit. Show everyone you're not just some maniac about to go psycho and rip people's heads off."
Harry pouted at her. "I'm not psycho," he muttered.
"Only if someone insults Lady Hestia," Clarisse teased.
Harry's face clouded over. "People who insult Hestia get what they deserve," he said.
Clarisse looked at him, and then burst out laughing. "And you wonder why we want to spar with you," she said, before grabbing his shoulder. "Come on, Newbie. Let's wrestle a while. Show everyone there's no hard feelings and all that."
He eyed her again. "Do you really believe that?"
She grinned in answer. "Hell no, but if it makes you spar, I'll say anything."
The young Son of Tyche chortled. "Fiiiine," he said, drawing out the sound. "As long as nobody gets hurt."
She shrugged. "If you say so," she answered, grabbing his shoulder, and practically frog marching him to the training field. As they walked – or, Clarisse, Silena and Annabeth walked and Harry was dragged along – she asked, "What'll it be? Pankration? Regular wrestling? Savate? Anything goes hand-to-hand? Or full weapons?"
"You pick," Harry said, feeling a bit put out at being dragged along while he was perfectly able to walk by himself.
Silena and Annabeth groaned, but Clarisse's smile widened. "I was hoping you'd say that!" she said.
"What about my tests?" Annabeth asked. "You agreed to help me with testing your wall-running," she reminded Harry, now that it seemed that he was going to get dragged into a spar anyway.
"Yes!" Harry said, pointing dramatically at Annabeth. "I agreed to help Annabeth, so I can't really spar," he added, sounding glad to have an excuse.
"You agreed," Clarisse said, her hand tightening on his shoulder. "No backing out now." She looked at Annabeth, and said, "How about a deal? I get him for an hour or so, and afterwards I'll help you with your tests of Harry's wall running. Because I wanna know that shit too."
Harry shot Annabeth a pleading look for help getting him out of this.
The Daughter of Athena looked straight into his eyes, seemingly contemplating making a fuss, before she looked at Clarisse. "That sounds like a deal!" she told the Daughter of Ares.
"Annabeth!" Harry protested.
"Oh, hush, I want to see how you fare against Clarisse when you're not trying to kill her, or stop her from killing you," Annabeth replied casually. "And besides, it's good practice."
Harry pouted. "I thought you were my friend," he said as he was dragged into the arena.
"I am your friend, and this is for your own good," Annabeth said imperiously, giving him a sharp nod to punctuate her words. "We'll be in the stands. Clarisse, try not to hurt him too much."
Clarisse grinned widely. "Can't make any promises," she drawled, depositing Harry in the middle of the arena, before taking a stand a bit further back. The stands were quickly filling up.
Harry sighed. If it meant so much to her, then fine. He wasn't going to pull that read-ahead trick he'd pulled on her brother. For one, he rather liked Clarisse; she was refreshingly honest and direct. And for two, she hadn't insulted Hestia so he wasn't actually mad enough at her to want to beat her into submission.
Suddenly, she said 'go', leapt at him and made a motion to grab him into a hold.
Harry reacted by pure instinct, slipped aside so her grab missed, grabbed her instead, placed his feet in pin-point perfect position, and with a single pivot of his hip pulled her over and slammed her onto her back, firmly pressing her shoulders into the dirt.
"What… the fuck?" Clarisse asked as she looked up at him.
"Your center of balance shifted too much during your charge so it was easy to use your momentum, and your imbalanced stance, against you," Harry explained, extending a hand.
The Daughter of Ares grinned, grabbed his hand, and allowed him to pull her to her feet. "You actually do know your shit, don't you?" she asked.
Harry nodded. "I don't want to fight. That doesn't mean I don't know how to when it comes to it."
"Gotcha," Clarisse said, suddenly, out of nowhere, throwing a punch at him.
Demigod reflexes being what they were, Harry managed to duck aside just in time, and grabbed her hand. With a pivot and a small shift of his balance, he was able to yank her off-center.
She let herself fall, which dragged him off-center, and forcing him to release her. As she scrabbled around, she grabbed a handful of sand and threw it at his face.
Harry yelped, blinded by the stinging in his eyes, one hand coming up to rub them even if that was probably the worst thing to do. The next thing he knew, a fist landed in his stomach.
Instincts guided him, and the young boy stepped back before launching a sucker punch, blindly, into mid-air.
Unexpectedly, he hit flesh, and a girlish oomph was audible, followed by someone dropping to their knees, ending with the sound of someone vomiting.
His stinging, tearing eyes started to clear, and Harry was able to see, through a blur, how Clarisse emptied her stomach.
"That wasn't nice," he chided her.
Clarisse gave one last heave, and then looked up. "You got me back for it," she stated clearly, obviously not repentant in the least for the dirty tactic, and not at all upset at having just voided her stomach. "How'd you do that, anyway?"
Harry looked at her, tears still streaming from his eyes. "Luck," he said, completely honestly.
Clarisse chortled and got up. "Fine, keep your secrets," she stated. "That was a good shot."
"Yours, too," Harry admitted, remembering how Ares had told him it's only cheating if the other guy does it.
"Again?" Clarisse offered.
Harry shrugged. "Fine," he said, drawing the sound out again.
0000
Harry emerged from the fire at Helios' temple, and immediately sunk into the nearest couch, letting out a huge breath of relief as he did so. Clarisse had been adamant about getting in her wrestling time, and Annabeth had been a slave driver when it came to her tests.
At least now he knew that yes, he really did need that short run-up, that he could carry small loads but not another person, and that he was able to stabilize a fall, but not really slow it down much.
Nemmy crawled into his lap and started purring. Harry's hands automatically started petting him, and just the feeling of a warm purring feline in his lap and his hands going through soft fur relaxed him.
"I'm glad to be home," he muttered, half to himself and half to his pet. Nemmy curled slightly, and dropped his head against Harry's chest, as if listening to his heartbeat.
Taking that as permission, Harry told the Nemean House Cat about his adventures at Camp. The cat had looked up at Harry and given off a smug feeling when Harry described how he'd threatened to feed Mark to him.
The young boy felt like Nemmy had no issues with 'disposing of evidence' if it came down to it. He hoped it was never needed, but it was still good to know that Nemmy had his back.
The cat licked its chops, and then dropped back down as Harry recounted sparring with Clarisse and undergoing Annabeth's tests.
It seemed like Nemmy was far less understanding or supportive when it came to his friends telling him what to do.
A knock sounded, and Harry let out a sigh. He didn't feel up to visitors at the moment. On the other hand, the only ones who came here were gods, and it was never a good idea to not open the door for a god.
Harry picked Nemmy up, and carried him to the front door. With one hand, he pulled open half of the large double doors.
"Artie?" Harry asked, recognizing the Goddess of the Hunt. A Goddess of the Hunt that looked distinctly annoyed. "And Miss Zoë," he added, smiling at his second visitor. She looked emotionless, as she always did when she was annoyed or angry and didn't want it to show.
"Come in," he offered. Immediately, Goddess and Lieutenant practically shoved by him and stepped into the large entry hall of Helios' Temple.
Harry let the door close behind him, wondering what was up, and feeling distinctly on-edge.
"It has come to my attention," Artie said, "that you were in a fight this afternoon. A fight in which you invoked my name. While you are a boy, and I can therefore expect the occasional scrap or fight, I am distinctly displeased that you used my name in doing so."
Harry blinked, and glanced at Zoë, who looked still as cold as ice. Artie went on, drawing his attention back to her upset-looking Goddess of the Hunt. "Please explain your actions."
Harry cradled Nemmy, who had stopped purring and was now giving a cat-glare at both visitors. He held back from hissing, remembering what had happened the last time he had hissed at these particular people, but his entire body felt tense and ready to pounce.
"A Son of Ares wanted to fight me. I declined. He insisted. I declined again. Then he insulted Hestia. He called her useless. And… I maybe… lost my temper?" Harry explained, before hesitatingly trailing off at the end.
Zoë looked dangerous instead of cold now, and Artie's silver eyes narrowed. "He did, did he?" she asked rhetorically.
Harry nodded anyway. "So I kinda beat him up. And then I told him that, if he ever insulted Hestia again, I'd use what you taught me to take my knife and carve him up like a fresh kill."
Artie gave a sharp nod. "I see," she said, still sounding dangerous. "Who was this particular Son of Ares?"
Harry shrugged. "I just know he's called Mark, because Clarisse shouted at him to stop being an ass. He's 15 or 16 or so. He looks like he works out, because he's solid muscle."
"I see," Artemis repeated. She paced back and forth a few times. "You did well. I'm glad that I came to hear you before jumping to conclusions."
Harry had the distinct impression that 'jumping to conclusions' had been exactly what the Goddess of the Hunt and her Lieutenant had done, but decided not to call them out on it.
"Now that we have that cleared up, I need to have a chat with an oafish half-brother of mine, and ensuring that he knows to instill proper respect for Aunt Hestia in his various offspring," Artie said, turning to the door.
Zoë, who still hadn't spoken, just nodded at him, and turned to follow her patron.
Harry sighed as the door closed; that had been an uncomfortable little meeting, but he was glad that he'd been able to clear things up regardless. Still, he'd need to make sure that he didn't drop gods' names without making sure that he could handle the fallout from said name-dropping.
"After all this, I need a shower, and I feel like having something different for dinner," Harry told his Nemean pet. "I'm going to go to the market and buy something special for tonight. Wanna come?"
The Nemean House Cat expertly leapt from the boy's arms and wandered back into the living area where he installed himself on one of the couches. Harry chuckled, that answered that question, he supposed.
0000
Harry was walking back toward Helios' temple, bag of specialty food dangling from one arm, when he was suddenly stopped by one beefy hand landing on his shoulder from somewhere. The next moment, he heard the dreaded tones of his fighting instructor's voice.
"I heard you put one of my brats in the infirmary, brat. And scared the crap out of him. Literally." Ares said while accosting him. "I had to find out from a certain Goddess of the Hunt, no less."
Harry shrugged, still feeling a mite upset despite the sparring and the intervening time, and not feeling his usual fear of the God of War because of it. Maybe Artie's visit had exacerbated things? "He insulted Hestia. He had it coming," the young boy replied, testily.
The God of War burst out laughing, and slapped Harry's shoulder, almost driving him to his knees. "True words, brat!" Ares said. "Now, that does mean you're ready to graduate. Well, from basic fighting, anyway."
Harry blinked. "Graduate?" he asked, surprised.
The God of War gave him the typical bloodthirsty grin that the young boy had started to know really well. "Exactly. Now, I don't do gifts, so I have stored a surprise for you somewhere. All you have to do to get to it is defeat its guardian, and it's yours. A graduation surprise, if you will."
The boy blinked, and stared at the God of War. Maybe it was his testy emotions. Maybe it was the sparring with Clarisse. Maybe it was any of a dozen other things, but before he could stop himself, he heard himself mouthing off against the God of War. "It's not an armored swimsuit, is it?" he asked, catching Ares off-guard. It was something that had been bothering him ever since he read his first Wonder Woman comic.
"What?" the God of War demanded, surprised, and not sounding like he enjoyed the feeling.
Harry shrugged again. He was in it now; he may as well press on. With fatalistic determination, he explained, "I'm carrying Hestia's Lasso, Hephaestus' bracers, and Athena's shield. I see a theme, so I hope it's a sword and not an armored bathing suit, right? Because unless I ask Artie to make good on her promise to change me into a girl, I really don't have the legs to pull off an armored bathing suit. Plus, I'm sure my friends wouldn't hesitate to make fun of me if I even tried."
Ares burst out laughing again, and clapped the boy on the shoulder. "It's a surprise, brat! Now, go to the Cave of Caerbannog, and defeat its fearsome guardian. Your surprise is in the cave."
Harry nodded. "Thanks, Ares," he said, actually sounding as if he meant it – and part of him really did mean it. Of all the things he could have imagined Ares doing after beating up one of his kids, giving him a gift wasn't one of them.
The God of War grinned. "Have fun, brat!" the God of War chortled, turned, and vanished.