Tyche, still red-haired and green-eyed, angrily stalked up the path leading to a nearby temple. With her hands balled, she breathed furiously through her nose as her legs ate up the distance.
When she finally reached the doors, her right fist pounded the door twice. Her left fist knocked once. Bom-bom-tok. She repeated the pattern obnoxiously, not even listening for a response. Bom-bom-tok. Bom-bom-tok. Bom-bom-tok.
The door was yanked open, a furious goddess preventing Tyche from repeating her obnoxious knock once more.
"What?" the angry goddess demanded, golden eyes staring at the Goddess of Fortune.
"Nemmie, I need your help," Tyche said, pushing past the goddess and striding deeper into her temple.
Nemesis, Goddess of Retribution, of Vengeance, of Balance, and of Justice, frowned as she followed the angry path taken by Tyche. "What the… ?" she managed out before her visitor had already planted herself into a nice couch. Not a very good couch, nor a very bad couch. It was neither too hard or too soft. It was precisely balanced, as befitting furniture in the temple of the Goddess of Balance.
Nemesis strode in after her abrupt and impolite visitor, crossed her arms, and stared angrily at her for a moment. "Tyche?" she finally asked, relaxing slightly. "That's a new look for you."
Tyche looked down, and realized she was still in her 'Lily Potter' shape. Within moments, she had turned back to her regular look, slightly taller, brunette, with brown eyes. "Sorry, Nemmie. I need your help."
"Is that a way to ask someone for help?" the angry goddess asked, sitting down in front of her colleague. The two goddesses often worked together to maintain the balance of fortune, and they knew each other well, but this was new.
"I just found out that my son. My. Son. Has been screwed over. I need your help to get back at the perpetrators," the goddess of fortune said. "When my aspect died, I expected him to be raised by his godfather, to be taught and loved and given a happy childhood. Instead I find out my son has no knowledge of a godfather, the Styx-level protection I put on him has been tampered with, and he was given to my aspect's sister and her oaf for abuse. They abandoned him in New York when he was 7. It was sheer and utter luck that he found his way onto Olympus and into Lady Hestia's warm and welcoming arms. And yes, I am aware of the irony of stating that."
Nemesis stared at the goddess she had the closest relationship with. "Balance is a major part of my domain. While Vengeance is, too, Balance must be maintained," she said.
Tyche nodded. "I am going to interrogate the bastard I believe is responsible for taking away my Harry's childhood. While I can royally wreck his fortune for the foreseeable future, my powers are… random. He may trip over a rock and get a bruised toe, or he may trip over a rock and break his neck. I need your… finesse. I want to humble the man."
Nemesis was quiet and studied Tyche for a few moments. "Balance is always required," she repeated. "What will you offer in exchange?"
Tyche grinned at Nemesis. "Nemmie, I'm asking you to be invisible and ride my shoulder. If the conversation goes the way I think it will go, you'll agree with me that the man in question has too much power, too much influence, too many positions, and that he could stand to lose some."
Nemesis started to grin. "A powerful, influential, man with hubris that has abused said power and influence? Oh Tyche, you know the way into my cold, black, heart. If what you say is true."
Tyche nodded. "I am asking you to witness a conversation between myself and the man in question. If he is innocent, no harm done, I will need to hunt for other culpable people. If my assumptions are true, however, you'll agree with me that the man will deserve it."
The Goddess of Vengeance sat quiet again for a few moments, as always balancing one act against another. She nodded. "Very well. For our friendship, I am willing to witness this discussion. We shall talk again afterwards, and decide on how much, if any, punishment, this man deserves."
Tyche nodded gratefully. "We're going to a castle in Scotland, called 'Hogwarts'. It's a school for mortal magicians. It'll be deserted, it's August so school's out."
Nemesis just nodded at her babbling friend, a tiny twitch of amusement on her lips. Tyche recognized her friend/colleague's amusement, huffed, and vanished. Nemesis shook her head, and vanished as well, following the other goddess.
She reappeared next to a large lake, facing an imposing castle, backlit by stars and the large moon hanging overhead.
"Picturesque," Nemesis drawled. As goddess of balance, she disapproved of ostentatious shows of wealth or power.
"I'm going to go have my chat with Dumbledore," Tyche said, noting Nemesis raised a questioning eyebrow. The Goddess of Fortune sighed. "That's Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," she added. "He's the headmaster of this school, the chairman of their body of law and primary organ of justice, and the representative of Great Britain to the international confederation of magic-users. Also likes to call himself 'grand sorcerer'."
Nemesis grunted. "I dislike him already," she said, lips curling down. "I agree with you, Tyche, this man will be a good target to take down a peg or two. Go, have your talk. Let's see what else we can pin on him."
"I knew you'd like him", Tyche said, with a frosty grin. "I'm going to cast some befuddlement spells on him while he sleeps, make myself semi-transparent, then wake him up. As far as he knows, I'm dead. I'm going to scare the crap out of him."
Nemesis grinned. "Looking like that?" she asked.
The Goddess of Fortune looked down at herself, blushed, and shifted back into 'Lily Potter'.
"I maintain that's a good look for you," the Goddess of Vengeance stated.
'Lily Potter' grunted at her friend, resisted the urge to make a rude hand-gesture, and vanished. Nemesis grinned wider, made herself invisible, and chased after her.
'Lily' appeared in the bedchamber of the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and watched the man sleep for a few moments. He slept deeply, peaceful and relaxed in his knowledge of superiority, no doubt.
The Goddess of Fortune lifted one hand, and cast. Mortal magic came easy to her now, as easy as it came to any god or goddess, and soon she had a triple-layer Confundus Charm settled onto the sleeping headmaster.
She was about to wake him when she remembered to make herself semi-transparent. Tyche drew a breath, forcing her anger down. It was going to cause her to make mistakes, mistakes she couldn't afford to make at this time.
The Goddess of Fortune grinned when a new idea struck her, and cast a few charms to generate a horrible smell and make the room feel cold.
She stepped closer, about to snap out a word to cause him to wake when she got a better idea.
Theoretically, it was possible for a bolt of lightning to strike from a clear sky, right there and then, close enough to the school to rattle the ancient building. Theoretically. It was just extremely unlikely.
Luckily, she was the Goddess of Fortune, and probability answered to her.
The bolt of lightning that crackled across the sky was bright, loud, powerful, and angry. The ancient castle vibrated with the force of it, and Albus Dumbledore startled fully awake.
00000
Albus Dumbledore was sleeping soundly, having a very nice dream that involved lots of chocolate and ice cream. It was one of his favorites, and he was enjoying it immensely.
Suddenly, the explosive sound of lightning yanked him savagely out of his dream, thrusting him angrily into the waking world. His head hurt, but his heart raced with adrenaline at being woken so brutally.
He blinked when his eyes focused on a figure standing in his bedchamber. She was familiar, red hair, green eyes… and suddenly he recognized her.
"Good evening, Albus," Lily Potter said, standing right in the path of his startled gaze.
"Mrs. Potter?" he wondered, half-asking, half-stating, looking furtively around. There was no storm outside, as he would have expected. It wasn't even raining. How had there been a massive thunder strike?
"Yes," she drawled. "Do forgive me for barging in. It was quite a trip."
Albus blinked repeatedly, his mind sluggish. It was hard to think over the headache, and coming down from an adrenaline surge left him exhausted. "You're dead," he informed her, suddenly realizing that she was semi-transparent, and his room felt cold. And what was that horrible smell?
Lily nodded amicably. "Hence the long trip, Albus," she said. "Do try to keep up, old man. I'm looking for my son. I can't seem to find Sirius anywhere, so I want to know where he took my boy."
Albus blinked again, ignoring the insult to his age, and trying to figure out what to tell her. His mind felt slow, and for the life of him, he couldn't find anything better than to tell her the truth.
"Ah… well… Sirius is in Azkaban," he answered. "But don't worry, Harry is with loving family," he added with total reassurance. Hopefully that would resolve her unfinished business and allow the poor woman to rest peacefully once more. He didn't know what had brought her back after all these years, but he was confident he could satisfy her questions and allow her the peace of her eternal rest.
Lily seemed to beat down a sure of anger. And was she glowing? "Why exactly is Sirius in Azkaban!?" she demanded. "And where is my son, Albus?"
Albus sat up, and rubbed his temples. The glow was probably his imagination, it was gone now. "Sirius betrayed you to Voldemort," the headmaster answered, frowning as his headache didn't abate. To the contrary, it seemed to be getting worse. "So he was put in prison. And Harry is safe." He had to make her see sense. Harry was safe. She could rest.
Lily's fists balled, and seemed to glow again. She drew a breath. And relaxed. The glow was gone again. He rubbed his tired eyes, disturbed by the implications of seeing things that weren't there.
"Sirius couldn't betray us to Voldemort, Peter was the Secret Keeper of our Fidelius Charm. Sirius thought it up himself, everyone assumed it would be him, so he could play decoy. And. Again. Where. Is. My. Son," the returned Lily Potter snarled the last question, and it made Albus flinch.
He didn't want to answer the question. Answering the question would cause her to stick around, no doubt. And he didn't want that. Unfortunately, his earlier answers had urged her on, and now he didn't know how to get out of it. Damn that lightning for waking him up like this, his mind still felt like molasses.
He muttered under his breath, and finally decided on reassuring her. "I found your extremely impressive protection on Harry, modified it a bit to hide him better, and gave him to your blood to replenish the blood protection you left on him."
Another crack of lightning split the skies above Hogwarts, and the Headmaster of Hogwarts found himself jumping slightly. Where did that come from? It was a clear sky outside! He could see the stars through his window!
"And why is Sirius in Azkaban, when a simple application of Veritaserum could have freed him?" Lily asked, as if the bolt of lightning hadn't just happened. Which made Albus think that there was something seriously wrong with him – could he be imagining the lightning? Like he was imagining the glow around her?
He rubbed at his forehead, his headache getting worse, and tried to focus on his nightly visitor. He muttered under his breath. He didn't want to answer.
"Albus?" Lily asked, sweetly. Something deep inside him urged him to answer, if he didn't answer, bad things would happen to him – the dead had means beyond the living, and Albus felt his chest constrict.
"It was a troubled time," Albus prevaricated. "So you have to understand."
"Albus," his visitor snapped. "I am dead. I can not die of old age before you finish. Answer. The. Question."
Albus mumbled again, trying to get out of answering directly. Lily leaned in closer, and suddenly the air felt even thinner and colder, causing her breath to steam. The putrid stench filling the room increased in intensity. "I am getting annoyed," she stated.
The feeling in his chest redoubled in its intensity, as he felt the cold and thin air in his lungs and the scent of death and decay filling his nostrils. The headmaster's eyes went wide and he tried desperately to lean away. "He was found at the scene, after 12 muggles died when he tried to kill Peter Pettigrew, saying he did it, so he was moved to Azkaban," the man rattled off, his skin a pasty white. He had encountered many things in his life, but this was outside his frame of reference!
"You chucked him in a torturous prison without a trial!?" Lily choked out.
Albus flinched and shrunk further away from her, the room was quite cold now and it stank of sulfur and unclean, dead things that were best not pondered by the living. He didn't know what to say to reassure her of his intentions, how to calm her down and allow her to finish her business and rest once more.
"So you gave my son to my sister, who hates all things magic, after messing about with the protection I left on him?" Lily then demanded, switching tack, and leaning in again. Albus shuffled away, almost-but-not-quite trying to hide behind one of the posters of his four-poster bed. His chest hurt now, his heart pounding.
"Now, Mrs Potter," he tried to reassure the angry undead mother, "Your sister is family. Surely-"
Lily was suddenly in his face, and another crack of thunder blossomed across the skies. The stench that filled his nostrils rose some ancient and primal memory of hideous creatures, a forgotten racial awareness of things best left undisturbed and forgotten.
He felt his heart pounding even harder, his chest hurting even worse. "My sister is an odious woman," Lily declared. "Did you even bother to check up on him?" she demanded, her nose practically touching his as he clung to his bed's poster.
"I had someone keep an eye out," he said hurriedly, too scared to try and think his way out and the truth spilling from his lips. "But after their trip to New York, Harry wasn't with them, and then they moved shortly after..."
It was a good thing, Lily thought, that she knew Harry was safe and sound on Olympus. If she hadn't known, she probably would have torn the man's head off, Godly Law or not.
"I. Am. Most. Upset," Lily declared.
"I… I… understand..." Albus muttered, shooting a glance at his pillow, wishing he'd had the presence of mind to grab his wand when he'd woken up. Having it was better than not having it, especially now. Lily saw. Lily turned, and snatched the pillow away. She looked at the Elder Wand, the Death Stick, the Unbeatable Wand presented by Death itself. She shot him a darkly amused look.
"I am dead, Albus. You cannot kill me again," she stated, coldly. That single phrase scared Albus more than anything else he had heard in his life. "Now. Where is Harry?"
Albus swallowed deeply. "I… don't know?" he was forced to admit.
Her eyes narrowed. Was that glow intensifying? And just what was that horrible smell that kept getting worse? "You better find him," Lily snapped. "And where are my sister and her oaf?"
He winced again, then had the presence of mind to paste a smile on his lips; although he was sure it looked more like a grimace. "I… am glad… you still care-" he started to say, a tiny fraction of terror within him releasing on the show of care for her sister. Somewhere deep within the undead form of Lily Potter, there was still kindness!
"I loathe them and I want to make their life a living hell for abandoning my baby in New York," the undead woman stated, her breath fogging in the cold of the room. Albus realized he was shivering not just with fear, but with cold as well. "Now, where are they?"
Despite himself, Albus could not fathom anyone willing to hurt their family. "Now, Lily," he started.
"WHERE!?" the woman thundered, her voice resonating strangely with his midriff.
"Last I heard, Moscow," Albus admitted. "They have been moving every month or two for some odd reason."
Lily narrowed her eyes. "I will check on my… sister. You better start on freeing Sirius."
"But… but..." Albus hedged, his mind blank and unable to come up with a response – ANY response – at all.
"Free. Sirius." Lily snapped at him, grabbing the wand from the bed. That command struck him deep. "Or not even this little toy will not save you from my wrath!" she snarled at him, throwing the wand in his direction. The old man was spry enough to manage to rescue it before it hit the floor.
She vanished, despite the wards at Hogwarts. Albus let out a breath when the room started to warm up again, and the stench slowly started to dissipate. His headache finally started to ease up. He rubbed his temples. Whatever that had been, it had been deeply frightening, and deeply unpleasant.
Albus got up from his bed, every bone in his body creaking. He imagined he could somehow convince the Minister to allow a secret investigation into Sirius Black, using forced Veritaserum, ostensibly to 'force Death eater secrets' from him.
He stopped when his hand reached the door. Something had been strange about that encounter. What had triggered Lily Potter into returning now? What had changed? His mind, now starting to work normally once more, went over the entire thing again.
Lily had seemed unnaturally focused on Sirius, and Harry not having been with him. It had been as if she had known the answer on his whereabouts already, and was simply trying to wrestle their truth from him.
And why had she told him to free Sirius, but not told him to find Harry?
He went over his memory of the conversation. No, scratch that. She had told him to find Harry, just the once. And then she had seemingly forgotten about it, and focused instead on him freeing Sirius.
Albus blinked, then paled. The only answer.
Poor Harry had died. Harry had died, and found his mother in the afterlife. It had triggered her to return, and demand justice for Sirius, the only person still alive.
He stood still, bending his head, regretting every choice he made that led to this, and for the lost soul of Harry Potter.
Drawing a deep breath, he forced himself to move, and opened the door. As he stepped through the entryway to his quarters, he tripped over one of the flagstones that wasn't completely, one hundred percent, flush with the floor. A flagstone he had crossed thousands of times before.
He tripped, fell, and landed on the Elder Wand, irreparably snapping it.
00000
When Tyche vanished from Albus' room, she felt Nemesis follow her.
Both goddesses reappeared in Nemesis' temple, where Tyche immediately started pacing angrily. "I can not believe that man!"
"Wrongful imprisonment, placing a child with unsuitable guardians, misuse of government positions, conspiracy to a cover-up, hubris," Nemesis listed. "Too much power, too much influence, yes, yes." A grin appeared on nemesis' face. "The kind of man I love targeting."
"Thanks, Nemmie," Tyche said, still pacing.
The Goddess of Balance shrugged. "He deserves some balance."
"What will you go after?" the other Goddess request, curious.
"His positions and his influence, I think," Nemesis replied calmly. She was Goddess of Balance, after all. "Let him see his influence and his positions crumble before his very eyes as he tries to free your friend."
Tyche nodded. "Poor Sirius. He may have been a scoundrel, and had issues with authority and responsibility, but his heart was in the right place."
"I could not comment," Nemesis answered with a tiny smile.
The Goddess of Fortune gave her friend a flat look. She knew that, as Goddess of Balance, Nemesis wouldn't be able to comment. She also knew, after thousands of years of camaraderie, when Nemesis was teasing her.
Nemesis was unimpressed with the flat look, and just returned the gaze.
Tyche sighed, and gave a faint smile. "I have to go look up my sister now, see if I can find her."
"Need a hand?" Nemesis offered, still with that tiny smile on her face.
"You're offering to help?" Tyche asked, surprised.
"Years of child abuse, plus abandoning a child," The Goddess of Balance answered. "That deserves some… balancing."
"From the sound of it, someone already got to them. Moving every few months indicates something, or someone, is chasing them," Tyche answered softly. "Depending on who or what is chasing them, I don't want to put you in the position of having to balance their situation upward."
Nemesis nodded thoughtfully.
"Thanks for the offer, though, Nemmie," Tyche whispered. "I appreciate it."
Nemesis shrugged. "Meh, it was fun. Not everyday I find someone so very deserving of my tender mercies."
The Goddess of Fortune smiled faintly. "Thanks, Nemmie," she repeated, then stood up. "I've got a sister and her oaf to find, so I should go."
Nemesis gave a small smile, then stood up to guide her guest to the door. Already, she was imagining what she was going to do.
00000
Tyche strode down a street in the heart of Moscow. It seemed that Albus Dumbledore had, in fact, been telling the truth about the Durlseys' current whereabouts. It had been easy for her to find them.
Contrary to what she had told her son, it was rather trivial for her to find people; her domain allowed her to wade through large amounts of data quickly by basically picking a volume at random and opening it to a random page. Usually, the entry she would be looking for would be on that page.
In this case, it was a large map of Moscow, and her closing her eyes, focusing on the Dursleys, and throwing a dart. The dart had struck right over a single residential house.
As she walked down the streets, she became aware of a crackle of thunder in the distance, and suddenly she was not alone.
"Greetings, Greek Goddess," a voice rumbled in Russian, right next to her. When she looked in surprise, she found that she had been joined by a powerfully built man, dressing in all-encompassing Russian robes that were hiding his features. When he glanced at her, all she saw were a pair of glowing eyes.
"Lord Perun," Tyche said, respectfully, while swallowed deeply and stopping her walk.
"What brings you here?" Perun asked, his voice gravelly. "I believe the agreement was to stay out of each other's territory, and here I find a tasty Greek Goddess wandering down a street in our region's capital city."
Tyche offered a shaky smile. "Two people were tasked with raising my son. Instead I find that they abused him, starved him, neglected him, and in the end, abandoned him. I wish to… make sure… they have been properly chastised."
Perun, Slavic God of Thunder, studied her a few moments. "Then I will be out of your way. I would advise you not to linger, however."
Tyche dipped her head in what could be construed as a bow. "Thank you, Lord Perun. I will not tarry."
Satisfied that his warning had been received, Perun vanished with another rumble of faraway thunder.
Swallowing her fear once more, Tyche legged it down the street, to the address she had divined, and found a rather dilapidated house. Looking through the window, she found that the windows were covered up with newspaper on the inside. Some slivers of light escaped, so obviously the lights were on.
The Goddess of Fortune sighed in irritation, then made herself invisible and intangible and passed through the walls.
On the inside of the home, Tyche realized that, on top of pasting the windows with newspapers, the curtains had been drawn, as if the inhabitants were afraid of being spied upon.
She found the two adult Dursleys crammed around a fireplace that was roaring, yet both were shivering and had blankets pulled around them. Neither looked healthy, their eyes were wild and shifty, their skin was pale and sallow. Vernon looked like he had lost half his body weight, and his skin hadn't had time to catch up yet. Petunia, never the heaviest, looked skin and bones.
Their son made to speak, but Vernon shushed him, then pointed to the walls, as if saying 'the walls have ears!'. When the boy seemed to not want to hear it, Petunia followed it up with a few angry motions, indicating 'you never know who's listening!'. Dudley sunk back into the couch, pouting.
Tyche looked around, this wasn't what she had been expecting. The room was hot, very hot, and yet the adults seemed to not notice it. Shifting her sight, she wanted to see what had…
She blinked.
Only one goddess she knew of could have place an enchantment like this. The Goddess of Fortune looked back at the Dursleys. Everything made sense now.
Hestia. Hestia had been so upset at her son's treatment that she had forbidden the fire from warming them, and she had forbidden any house from ever sheltering them. The adult Dursleys were forever cold, and forever denied security.
And it was driving them insane. The lack of heat was causing them to be ill, and the fact that no house would ever shelter them had made them paranoid. They would always feel watched, always feel persecuted, and it was breaking their minds. It was insidious, and it was devastating.
Tyche had never felt like thanking someone as thoroughly as she felt like thanking Hestia at that moment.
She vanished, not even bothering to walk back through the wall. The Dursleys were suffering, that was enough.
00000
Tyche arrived on Mount Olympus, and took a few moments to look around. She came here so sparingly that every time she did the mountain's beauty surprised her.
Drawing a breath, she focused on the temple she had arrived at. After a few seconds' deliberation, she approached the door and knocked softly. She didn't know what she hoped for more – that the goddess inside heard her, or that she didn't.
The door opened on perfectly silent hinges, and Tyche found herself smiling uncertainly at Hestia.
The Goddess of Home and Hearth smiled as welcoming as ever. "Hello Tyche," she said, gently. "Will you come in?" she offered, stepping back.
The Goddess of Fortune nodded hesitatingly. Despite Hestia' kindness, she was acutely aware of the difference in status. She was but a minor goddess, while Hestia was not just a major Olympian Goddess – she was the first and last Olympian. Despite her pacifist stance, Tyche was well aware that the Law of the Primogenitor meant that Hestia had inherited the most power from the Titans Chronos and Rhea. Even if she never used it.
"Hello, Lady Hestia," Tyche greeted politely as she stepped inside, unsure of herself. She didn't like the feeling.
Hestia walked her to an incredibly homey and comfortable seating area. "Please, have a seat," the young-looking Goddess of the Home said. "Would you like something to drink, or something to eat?"
Tyche found herself relaxing and smiling tentatively in Hestia's direction. No matter what, Hestia would always be able to make a guest feel at home in her temple.
"Perhaps some tea, My Lady?" she requested politely.
The Goddess of the Home gave a benevolent smile and patted the Goddess of Fortune on her knee. "You can just call me Hestia, dear," she said, before a tea set appeared on the coffee table. Deftly, Hestia poured the beverage, before handing Tyche a cup.
The hot drink felt good after the day she had, and Tyche found herself letting out a sigh.
"I can guess why you're here," Hestia said, seated across from her guest, holding up her own cup.
"It's been an… interesting… day," Tyche allowed, not really knowing where to start.
Hestia nodded in agreement. "A very emotional one, as well," she added.
Tyche put the cup down on the table, then seemed to hug herself. Despite the perfect temperature in Hestia's temple, she felt a shiver travel down her spine. "My son doesn't remember me," she whispered.
Hestia smiled sadly. "Harry doesn't know you," she replied, then shifted closer. Tyche became aware of the fact that her host was seated right next to her all of a sudden. "I will counsel you the same way I counseled Harry," she said. "Get to know him, Tyche. Don't try and expect things from him, but get to know him for himself. You may find that he is a sweet and gentle boy, and that he will grow to like you for yourself."
Tyche's breath hitched. "I remember giving birth to him. I remember holding him. I love him, Hestia."
Hestia's sad smile grew sadder still. "Tyche," she said, drawing the distraught goddess' attention. "This is why so few of us aspect ourselves. Please remember. You are not your aspect. Your aspect isn't you. You are part of each other. Your aspect is a part of you, a small part, and some of you is part of your aspect. But in the end, your aspect isn't fully you, shaped as it is by different experiences and without your memories, and you are not your aspect, shaped as you are as a goddess and millennia of experience."
"But…" Tyche muttered in protest.
Hestia put a gentle, comforting hand on Tyche's knee. "The situation is complex, Tyche," the gentle Goddess of the Home said. "But remember, for Harry's sake, that he doesn't know you. He remembers only his relatives. It has left deep marks on him. When I first met him, it was in my usual guise. He believed me to be a child; I didn't mind. However, I now think that it was because of that fact that he trusted me. He pleaded with me to not tell any adults."
Tyche's face fell.
Hestia smiled faintly. "I have since shown him that adults can be trusted, and that not all adults are like his relatives. I am just telling you this so you would understand that Harry has had problems, and in some ways, he still does."
"He loves you," Tyche said, still whispering, yet sounding as if it physically hurt her to speak the words.
Hestia's smiled widened slightly. "He is a sweet boy, and I am quite fond of him as well," she answered Tyche's unspoken question.
"He reacted badly when I made a joke," The Goddess of Fortune admitted.
Hestia nodded once. "He told me about that. He thought you were serious, and was quite upset that you would ask him to choose between us." Tyche's face fell further, but Hestia patted her knee. "Your son doesn't know you," she repeated. "Take the time to get to know him, and give him time to get to know you. There may be pitfalls along the way, but if you both take the time and effort, I am sure that you will have a meaningful relationship."
Tyche sighed, and nodded sadly. She didn't reply verbally, lost in her thoughts, her gaze focused more on her clasped hands than anything else.
A tinkling sound drew her attention, and when she looked up, Hestia had picked a plate of cookies off the coffee table – a plate that definitely hadn't been there a few moment ago.
"Cookie?" the ever-hospitable Goddess of the Home offered. "They're quite good."
With the way she felt now, Tyche could use something sugary, so she accepted a cookie and bit into it. The taste exploded in her mouth, drawing an involuntary sound. Those were more than just quite good!
"This is brilliant!" she exclaimed, the first cookie already gone and reaching for a second.
Hestia smiled happily. "Harry felt subdued, so we baked some," she explained. "They're a new recipe, your son is quite inventive in the kitchen."
Tyche looked at the half-finished cookie in her hand. "Harry made these?" she wondered. "This is even better than the ones he made for Father's get-together."
The Goddess of the Home looked proud. "As I said, Harry is quite inventive in the kitchen. Although we did bake these together. Harry loves baking and cooking with me." Her gaze unfocused slightly, when she continued. "Such a sweet boy."
Tyche ate the remainder of her cookie at a more sedate pace. "Stress baking?" she asked.
Hestia re-focused on her guest, and seemed amused. "If I hadn't encouraged him to try different things, he would spend all day in the kitchen." Her smile deepened somewhat. "On his birthday, I asked him what it was he wanted. He could have asked for anything, anything at all. And he only said that he had food, clothes, friends, and shelter and that he didn't need anything else. Instead, he asked only that I would spend time with him, cooking."
Tyche swallowed, not knowing what to think about that. Harry had just turned nine. Nine-year-olds weren't supposed to say things like that. Perhaps the Dursleys had gotten off light.
"A few hours later," Hestia continued, "Hermes offered to take Harry for a ride in his chariot, show him some of the touristy things in the United States." The Goddess of the Home went silent for a moment. "If I hadn't encouraged him, Harry would have politely turned your father down. It's so rare that someone would give up things just to spend more time with me. Most see me, and most ignore me until they need something."
Tyche felt like she were an inch tall.
Hestia patted her knee. "I'm not saying that to make you feel bad," she gently admonished. "I am not as outspoken or as rambunctious as the others, so I fade easily into the background. I brought it up because I wanted you to understand Harry a little better."
Deciding that she wanted to think about anything other then how much her Harry loved the Goddess of the Home, Tyche asked, "did Harry realize the extent of his family yet? There were a few remarks on the get-together about how Mother's and Father's children were now his aunts and uncles, but it looked like it hadn't sunk in yet."
Hestia's smile showed that she knew exactly what Tyche was doing, but went along with it anyway. "I don't think it has, yet. He certainly didn't say anything to me. It will be amusing when he does, though."
They lapsed into silence again, and the Goddess of Fortune suddenly felt uncomfortable despite the warm welcome from the Goddess of the Home.
"I went to visit the Dursleys," Tyche admitted, swiping another cookie.
"Oh?" Hestia asked, not sounding particularly interested, but straightening up nonetheless.
"They were wrapped in blankets, in front of a burning fireplace, still cold despite the room being broiling hot. They also seemed to be quite paranoid, completely convinced they were being watched or overheard."
"Were they?" Hestia asked, sounding halfway-convincingly surprised. "How unusual."
The Goddess of Fortune nodded. "It seems someone got to them before I could," she said.
"Imagine that," Hestia commented with a slight smile.
"I wish I knew who it was," Tyche admitted. "I would like to thank them."
Hestia patted her knee again. "I'm sure that whoever it was, knows, Dear." Holding out the teapot, she offered, "Would you like some more tea?"
Tyche smiled slightly at her hostess, and held up her cup. "Please, Hestia," she answered, not really sure where to go from here, but accepting anyway.
The Goddess of the Home, fine hostess that she was, smiling slightly, and materialized something that looked like a photo album. "Perhaps you would like to take a look at some of the highlights of Harry's stay here on Olympus?" she offered.
Tyche smiled, something deep inside of her finally relaxing. "That would be great. Thanks, Hestia."
The First and Last Olympian simply scooted closer and opened the album. "When I first thought of introducing him to others, I started with beings who appeared young, as he had a mistrust of adults. I didn't want to push him one way or another, so I may not have disclosed everything to him. When I introduced him to Artie, he simply called her as he saw me call her. Her reaction was quite funny," Hestia started to say, opening the album, and displaying a moving memory of the Goddess of Home. Tyche stifled a laugh at the outraged look on Lady Artemis' face.
Hestia flipped the page, and a new memory started playing. "This is one..."
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