Dumbledore stood outside Number 4, Privet Drive, looking about as relaxed as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Beside him, Professor McGonagall was practically vibrating with anxiety. After Hagrid's revelation about Sirius Black—who everyone still thought was the Potters' traitorous Secret Keeper—it felt like they were stepping onto a stage for a Shakespearean tragedy, and nobody had bothered to give them a script.
"Albus," McGonagall said, arms crossed like she was guarding the entrance to a very private library. "Are you absolutely certain about this? You can't just barge in and demand Harry like he's some sort of lost sock!"
"Trust me, Minerva," Dumbledore replied, his eyes serious, "we have no choice. If Marlene isn't willing to let Harry go, he could be in serious danger."
With that, Dumbledore clasped McGonagall's arm, and with a pop that could wake the neighbors, they Disapparated to Sirius and Marlene's seaside cabin—a cozy little spot left to Sirius by his Uncle Alphard. As they arrived, the sound of crashing waves was almost soothing, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions brewing in Dumbledore's chest.
Dumbledore knocked on the door, his knuckles rapping like he was auditioning for a part in the next big wizarding drama. It swung open to reveal Marlene McKinnon, her expression fierce and protective, like a mama bear who had just spotted a wayward cub.
"Dumbledore! McGonagall! What brings you two to my humble abode?" she challenged, hands firmly planted on her hips. "You're not taking Harry anywhere!"
"Good evening, Marlene," Dumbledore started, his tone smooth as butter but just as slippery. "We need to talk about Harry. He must come with us."
"Come with you? To where?" Marlene's voice rose a notch. "You think you can just waltz in here and demand my nephew like he's a pizza delivery?"
Sirius appeared from the shadows, his brow furrowed like he was trying to solve a particularly complicated riddle. "What's going on?" he asked, glancing between Dumbledore and Marlene like he was watching a tennis match.
"Albus wants to take Harry away!" Marlene exclaimed, her voice dripping with disbelief. "He doesn't care about what's best for him!"
"Now, now," Dumbledore replied, holding up a hand as if that would calm the brewing tempest. "Sirius, we need to understand why you failed to protect the Potters. You were supposed to keep Harry safe."
"Failed?" Sirius shot back, his frustration bubbling like a cauldron about to boil over. "I didn't fail! I swear on my life and magic that Peter was the Secret Keeper. I was just the decoy!"
As the tension thickened, Dumbledore's expression hardened. Just when it seemed like they might escalate into a full-on wand duel, the night sky shimmered, and a brilliant silver light descended. A flying chariot, pulled by elegant deer, appeared out of nowhere, like something out of a fantasy film where the budget went entirely to the CGI.
Out stepped a breathtaking woman with silver eyes that sparkled like the night sky. She resembled Lily Potter, but there was something extra—a glimmer of divinity, perhaps?—in her gaze. With her was another girl, dark-haired and eyeing the scene like it was a very intriguing reality show.
"Stop this madness!" the woman commanded, her voice rich and melodic, resonating through the night air. "I have come for my son!"
Marlene's jaw dropped. "Who are you?"
"Cease thy inquiries, good lady!" Zoe Nightshade exclaimed, her tone surprisingly formal. "Thou hast no claim over him, for he is of divine lineage!"
Dumbledore and McGonagall exchanged incredulous glances, struggling to wrap their heads around the sudden turn of events. "You cannot just claim him," McGonagall stated, skepticism dripping from her words. "This is preposterous!"
"I am here to claim Harry," the woman insisted, her voice unwavering. "He is my child, and he deserves to know who he truly is."
Sirius's eyes widened in shock. "Lily? Is that really you?"
"Indeed, it is I," she replied, her gaze intense. "I am no longer bound by the mortal realm, but I will not allow Harry to be raised where he is not loved."
"But you're dead!" Marlene exclaimed, disbelief coloring her voice. "You can't just—"
"I am alive in a sense that transcends the ordinary," Lily—Artemis—said firmly. "I will raise him, teach him, and ensure he knows who he is meant to be."
Dumbledore's brow furrowed. "You expect us to believe that you are Lily Potter? This is impossible."
"'Tis a tangled web we weave!" Zoe interjected, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Verily, the truth lies hidden beneath layers of enchantment and deceit!"
As the waves crashed dramatically against the shore, the weight of the moment hung thick in the air. They were all fighting for the same thing—Harry's future. But with so many secrets swirling around, it felt like they were standing at the edge of a very peculiar cliff.
"Let's find a way," Artemis urged, her gaze fierce. "Together, we will ensure that Harry knows love, loyalty, and the truth of his heritage."
As the last rays of the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the cabin, the tension began to ebb. They were at a crossroads, standing on the brink of a new adventure—one filled with challenges, revelations, and the kind of magic that could change everything. In that moment, beneath the shimmering light of the stars, they prepared to face whatever came next, together.
—
Just when it seemed the cabin couldn't hold any more tension, a flash of light erupted like a rock concert spotlight, illuminating the astonished faces of everyone crammed into the small space. Suddenly, there she was—Queen Frigga, striding in like she owned the place, her silver hair flowing like a majestic waterfall and her emerald robes swirling around her as if caught in a gentle breeze. She surveyed the room with the calm authority of someone who had likely dealt with far crazier situations than this.
"Pray, what is this ruckus?" she asked, her voice ringing with that dramatic flair only a royal could manage.
Silence fell like a lead balloon. Dumbledore looked like he'd just bitten into a sour lemon, McGonagall blinked as if trying to process whether she'd entered a very weird dream, and Marlene looked about ready to faint, probably wondering if she'd accidentally walked onto the set of a bizarre fantasy film.
"Who are you?" Marlene finally squeaked, her voice shaky, like she'd just spotted a dragon in her backyard.
"I am Queen Frigga," she replied, not missing a beat. "Mother of Loki."
Cue the thunderclap. Sirius shot a glance at Artemis, who had gone as still as a statue. "Loki is your son?" she blurted out, the words tumbling out like a bag of marbles.
"Indeed," Frigga said, taking a step closer. "I have come to seek my grandson, Harry, and my daughter-in-law, Lily."
"Lily?" Dumbledore's voice had that tone of someone who had just been told that their pet goldfish could actually talk. "You must understand, this is a rather extraordinary claim. We need proof—like, a birth certificate or something."
Frigga narrowed her eyes, her calm demeanor still intact, though Sirius could sense a flicker of irritation beneath her regal facade. "You need not believe me, but I can sense the magic in this room. It carries the essence of Loki."
Sirius swallowed hard. He was tangled up in a whirlwind of emotions, trying to grasp the fact that James Potter wasn't just a regular dude but the reincarnation of a god. He had kept that secret buried deep, shared only with Lily.
"Loki is… indisposed," Frigga continued, her voice heavy with concern. "His mind has fractured due to the events surrounding James' death. The betrayal of Peter has forced me to erase all memories of his life as James from his mind to protect him."
Marlene's anger flared, and Sirius could practically see smoke curling from her ears. "And what does that mean for Harry? You expect us to just hand him over like he's some sort of royal pizza delivery?"
Frigga met Marlene's fiery gaze with surprising softness. "I do not wish to take him from you. I wish to ensure he is safe and loved. Harry deserves to know who he is and to grow up in a family that understands his lineage."
Artemis stepped forward, her silver eyes sparkling with fierce protectiveness. "He is my son, and I'll do everything in my power to keep him safe. You think I'll let some fairy-tale queen swoop in and take him?"
McGonagall, who had been observing silently until now, finally cleared her throat. "This is all rather strange, but if you are truly his grandmother, what do you propose we do?"
"We must unite," Frigga declared, her voice steady and powerful, like a leader rallying her troops. "Together, we can shield him from the dangers that loom ahead. He carries the magic of both Loki and the Potter lineage; that makes him a target."
Sirius nodded slowly, finally breaking his stunned silence. "We can't let that happen. I've already lost James—I can't lose Harry too. I'm not ready to be the uncle who fails."
Dumbledore, the ever-cautious leader, regarded Frigga with a mix of skepticism and faint hope. "And what assurance do we have that you will not harm him? I mean, you do have that whole 'Queen' thing going on, and I've read enough fantasy novels to know how that often goes."
"Only my word," Frigga replied, her eyes glinting with sincerity. "And the bond of family that connects us all. You can trust that."
Zoe Nightshade, who had remained quiet until now, raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in her eye as she absorbed the absurdity of the situation. "So, dost this mean we art all now kin? Like one grand, dysfunctional family? Forsooth, if such be the case, I lay claim to the family drama!"
Her words hung in the air, a blend of humor and theatricality that made everyone chuckle, even in the midst of their chaos. Zoe's flair for the dramatic always had a way of lightening the mood, no matter how dire the circumstances.
"No need for dysfunction," Frigga said with a wry smile. "We simply need to learn to work together, preferably without the soap opera-level conflict."
As the room settled into a tentative peace, the gravity of their shared fate became clear. In a cabin by the sea, alliances were forged anew, ancient secrets were whispered, and a family, however unconventional, began to take shape. With the stakes higher than ever, the future of Harry Potter—and perhaps the worlds of magic and gods—hung in the balance, teetering like a precariously balanced stack of pizza boxes at a teenage birthday party.
—
After what felt like an eternity of heated discussion—and a healthy dose of teasing from Frigga, who found it downright hilarious that her daughter-in-law was the Virgin Goddess Artemis, whi was also the mother to her firstborn grandson—everyone finally reached a consensus. It was no easy task, especially with Dumbledore stubbornly insisting that Harry should be sent to the Dursleys, a suggestion that earned him a chorus of eye-rolls. Even McGonagall chimed in with a firm, "Shut up, Albus. That's ridiculous."
And so it was decided: Harry would primarily stay with Artemis and her band of fierce Huntresses. Zoe Nightshade, who was basically the queen of eye-rolling at men, was particularly keen on this arrangement. "I shall teach young Harry how to be a proper gentleman," she announced, her voice dripping with a dramatic flair reminiscent of Shakespeare. "Nay, he shall not be one of those knaves who treat fair maidens as mere chattels!"
"Great plan, Zoe, but let's keep the 'gentleman' lessons away from the archery practice," Artemis shot back, trying not to laugh. "We don't want him getting confused about chivalry and chasing down dinner."
Sirius, who was practically vibrating with excitement, couldn't wait to get started. "And on weekends, he'll be with Marlene and me! I'll turn him into a world-class prankster. Just imagine it: Harry Potter, heir of Loki! When he gets his memories back, James will be so proud!"
"Let's just make sure he doesn't prank me," Frigga warned, her eyes glinting mischievously. You could practically see the wheels turning in her head—this was the kind of chaos she was here for.
With the plan settled, Frigga leaned back, an air of satisfaction about her. "And I shall smuggle myself to Midgard once a month to visit my adorable grandson," she declared with a wink. "And, of course, tease Artemis about her newfound maternal instincts."
"Yeah, because I'll definitely need the advice of a queen on how to parent," Artemis quipped back, but there was warmth in her tone. It was clear that she was secretly excited about all this.
Meanwhile, little Harry—who had been observing all this with wide, curious eyes—was busy showing off his Metamorphmagus skills. One moment, he was a cherubic toddler with big blue eyes, and the next, he morphed into a mini version of Sirius, complete with messy hair and a cheeky grin. It was both adorable and slightly chaotic, and everyone couldn't help but laugh.
"Look at him, already a true shape-shifter!" Frigga exclaimed, clearly beaming with pride. "He'll need to learn to control those powers, of course, but this is promising."
"Just saying, control is key," McGonagall added, half-seriously. "We can't have him turning into a cat during a serious moment. That's a recipe for disaster."
Zoe knelt down to Harry, who had just transformed into a tiny wolf, and gave him an exaggerated look of seriousness. "Pray, dear child," she intoned in her best Shakespearean style, "shouldst thou ever find thyself in a perilous predicament, a wolf is ever a wise choice for escape! Remember well, to tread lightly!"
As laughter filled the cabin, everyone began to feel a sense of unity. Plans were made, connections deepened, and this completely unconventional family was starting to form around little Harry Potter. As the evening wore on, the magic of family—old and new—wove its invisible thread around them, binding them together for whatever wild adventures lay ahead. It was going to be a wild ride, but hey, when had that ever stopped anyone?
—
As the night settled over the cabin, it felt like the universe was taking a collective sigh of relief. Frigga, in all her regal glory, was about to sneak back to Asgard, leaving behind the warmth of her newly discovered family. She threw one last glance at the nursery where her grandson lay sleeping, blissfully unaware of the chaos swirling around him. "Adorable little guy," she murmured before vanishing in a sparkly poof of Asgardian magic.
Meanwhile, Dumbledore and McGonagall were having a classic "old wizard grump" moment. Dumbledore's face was scrunched up like he'd just bitten into a lemon. "I still don't understand why you all rejected my brilliant plan to send Harry to the Dursleys. It would've been—"
"Albus," McGonagall interrupted, raising an eyebrow so high it nearly disappeared into her hairline. "We've been over this. Sending Harry there would have been like dropping him into a lion's den while wearing a meat suit. Not happening."
Outside, Zoe Nightshade was channeling her inner Shakespeare as she and Artemis tended to the flying deer of the moon chariot. "Fair creatures of the night," Zoe said, dramatically waving her arms. "Thou art most splendid and worthy of admiration. Verily, thou dost pull thy chariot with such grace!"
Artemis chuckled, rolling her eyes playfully. "Zoe, they're deer, not Shakespearean actors. Just make sure they don't eat my chariot again!"
Back inside, Sirius and Marlene had just finished tucking Harry into a nursery that could only be described as "over-the-top adorable." Sirius, being the quintessential godfather, had stocked it with enough plush toys to stage an army, while Marlene beamed like she'd just won the best mom award.
As they tiptoed out, Sirius whispered, "You know, I'm raising a future legend here. Just wait until he learns the family prankster gene. Loki will be proud—eventually."
And that's when things got a little extra. Out of nowhere, a sparkly aura filled the room as Aphrodite appeared, invisible to everyone but the audience. "Like, oh my god, can we just talk about how adorable this little munchkin is?" she exclaimed, her voice dripping with Kardashian-esque glamour. "He's totally going to be a heartthrob, I just know it!"
With a flourish of her perfectly manicured fingers, she leaned closer to Harry, who was snoring softly. "Okay, babe, listen up. You're going to have some epic love stories in your life. I mean, seriously, like rom-com-level drama! And I'm here to make sure it's totally wild and fabulous."
Aphrodite weaved threads of fate around him like a skilled designer draping a gown, sprinkling him with the charm of a male Veela. "Trust me, sweetie, heads will be turning when you grow up. You're gonna be the guy everyone fights over—like, 'Who gets to date Harry Potter? Spoiler alert: everyone!'"
As the stars twinkled outside, the cabin felt alive with the promise of adventure, mischief, and a sprinkle of romance that could only belong to a boy like Harry. Little did he know, the world was waiting for him to wake up and take it by storm. And let's just say, it was going to be one heck of a ride.
—
Frigga slipped through the door of Loki's hideout like a ninja grandma, which, honestly, wasn't too far from the truth. She had smuggled herself back to Asgard without anyone noticing, and now she stood over her son, who was currently in the middle of the mother of all naps. Loki lay sprawled out on the bed, looking like someone who had hit the snooze button for two decades straight. Which, technically, was kind of true. Sort of.
She approached carefully, knowing this wake-up call was going to be... delicate. Waking up a trickster god was like poking a sleeping dragon—minus the fire-breathing, but definitely with more snark.
Frigga leaned over and gave his shoulder a nudge. "Loki, darling, time to wake up."
Loki groaned in response, burying his face deeper into the pillow like a teenager who had stayed up too late binge-watching TV. His eyes fluttered open, taking their sweet time focusing on her. "Mother?" he croaked, his voice groggy. "Why do I feel like I've been in a coma?"
Frigga smiled, already preparing herself for the mountain of questions he was about to ask. "Because, my dear, you've been sleeping for nearly two decades."
That got him to sit up fast enough to give himself whiplash. "Two decades?" Loki blinked, rubbing his eyes. "That's impossible. The last thing I remember was... Wait. I don't remember."
"Exactly," Frigga said, her voice soft but firm. "You were in a bad place, Loki. Losing control. So, I had to... intervene. I erased your memories for a time, to protect you from yourself."
Loki's face scrunched up in confusion. "So you... what? Hit the reset button on my brain and knocked me out for twenty years? That seems a little extreme, even for you."
"Trust me, it was necessary," Frigga said, trying to maintain her cool mom vibe while fully aware that this conversation could go sideways at any second. "You were in danger of losing yourself. I had to give you time to heal. And yes, it's been twenty years... or, you know, that's what we're going with for now."
Loki stared at her, still trying to process all of this, which, to be fair, was a lot. "And what exactly have I been doing while I was in this enchanted nap? Because I don't remember signing up for a Rip Van Winkle experience."
Frigga waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, you know, the usual: Sleeping, dreaming, not causing mischief for once in your life."
Loki groaned again and flopped back down on the bed. "Fantastic. So, what now? Am I supposed to get up and pretend like nothing happened?"
"Well," Frigga said, smiling a little too brightly, "you're going to come back to the palace with me, of course. Everyone's missed you."
"Everyone?" Loki repeated suspiciously. "You mean Thor's probably been smashing things left and right, and Odin's... well, being Odin."
"Exactly," Frigga said, not even bothering to sugarcoat it. "But you, my dear, have more important things to deal with. Trust me, you'll understand in time."
Loki stared at her, clearly not buying it, but also too groggy to put up much of a fight. "Fine," he grumbled. "Lead the way, Mother. But if this turns into one of those 'big reveal' moments where I've secretly been a mortal for twenty years or something, I swear, I'm disowning the entire family."
Frigga's smile wavered for just a second, but she recovered quickly. "Of course, darling. Let's just get you back to the palace. You've been... resting long enough."
As they left the hideout, Frigga couldn't help but think about the memories she'd sealed away—the life Loki had lived as James Potter. For now, those memories were locked tight, safe from the trickster god's sharp mind. But she knew they wouldn't stay hidden forever. And when the time came, she only hoped Loki—James—would be ready to face the truth.
—
The next morning dawned with the kind of sunlight that felt like it had been filtered through a dozen social media filters—bright, cheerful, and just a little bit too perfect. In the cozy cabin, Artemis and Zoe were already hard at work. Their mission? Preparing the chariot for their journey back to the Huntresses. And by "preparing," they totally meant "baby-proofing," because they had a tiny Metamorphmagus in the mix now.
"Okay, Zoe, hand me that roll of foam! You know, the one that looks like it belongs at a toddler's birthday party?" Artemis called out, wrestling with a brightly colored bumper that had somehow landed in her hands.
"Verily, dost thou think such hues suit the grandest steeds of the Hunt?" Zoe replied, her tone dripping with playful sarcasm. She crossed her arms, looking like she was trying to channel some ancient wisdom while staring down the gaudy pink foam like it was a monster from the depths of Tartarus.
Artemis rolled her eyes. "Trust me, they'll prefer a soft landing to being stylish. And besides, if it keeps Harry safe, I'm all in." She fought the foam into submission, the foam stubbornly refusing to cooperate.
Meanwhile, baby Harry, snuggled in a mountain of blankets nearby, was being his adorable, Metamorphmagus self. His little face transformed from a cherubic version of Artemis to a mini-Sirius, complete with a goofy grin that could melt the coldest of hearts.
"Pafoo!" he squeaked, stretching his arms toward Sirius, who was emerging from the bedroom looking like he had just fought a fierce battle with his pillow and somehow lost. His hair was a glorious mess, and his bleary eyes sparkled with the kind of love only a godfather could muster.
"Did someone summon the illustrious Pafoo?" Sirius said, striking a ridiculous pose as he scooped Harry into his arms. The baby giggled, his laughter like sunshine breaking through clouds, making the room feel a little lighter.
"Mama!" Harry cooed, looking up at Artemis with adoration that could rival a thousand Instagram posts.
Artemis knelt, her heart swelling like a balloon ready to pop. "Yes, my sweet boy, I'm right here!"
Zoe watched the scene unfold, shaking her head with a smile. "The chariot is well fortified for the little one, the godfather stands ready, and the world is our oyster. What could possibly go awry?"
Sirius glanced toward the interior of the cabin, where the shadows of their recent losses lingered like unwanted party guests. "And what about Marlene and me? We're supposed to deal with... all of this." He waved his hand vaguely, encompassing the chaos that awaited.
Artemis nodded, her expression turning serious for a heartbeat. "It's going to be a whirlwind, but you two can handle it. Just remember to give yourselves time to feel everything. It's okay to grieve."
"Right. Just the usual mix of life, death, and maybe a sprinkle of cosmic chaos. No biggie," Sirius quipped, trying to lighten the mood with a mock-serious nod.
"Exactly! You've got this!" Zoe chimed in, offering him a friendly nudge. "And should matters go awry, send forth a smoke signal, and I shall swoop in as a valiant hero to save the day!"
With one last glance at the cabin, where memories hung heavy in the air, Artemis stepped up into the chariot, excitement bubbling inside her. "Let's roll, team! The Huntresses await!"
With Harry snuggled securely in Zoe's arms and the chariot decked out in all its foam-tastic glory, the unlikely family set off into the brightening dawn. Each of them was ready to embrace the adventures ahead, united in love and laughter, determined to face whatever challenges awaited them. Because if there was one thing they knew, it was that they were in this together—and that made all the difference.
—
Sirius Black was having the kind of day where everything went sideways, then did a backflip, and landed in a flaming dumpster. Which, for him, was par for the course, but still—couldn't the universe give him a break?
He strolled into the Ministry of Magic with Marlene by his side, trying his best to act like he wasn't public enemy number one. But considering half the people in the lobby were gawking at him like he'd just waltzed in wearing Death Eater robes and juggling dark objects, that wasn't easy.
"Keep your head down, Sirius," Marlene muttered through clenched teeth. She sounded like someone trying to keep a wild hippogriff on a leash. "No hexing anyone."
Sirius smirked. "Who, me? I'm the picture of restraint."
Marlene's death glare said otherwise. They made their way to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, where things immediately got... fun.
Enter Mad-Eye Moody, in full paranoia mode. His magical eye spun like it was auditioning for the role of Most Terrifying Accessory, while his normal eye locked onto Sirius with laser focus. Sirius didn't need Legilimency to know what he was thinking. Betrayer. Traitor. Untrustworthy.
"Black," Moody growled, his wand twitching in his hand. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't hex you into next week."
"Because next week's already booked?" Sirius shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "And also, you know, trials. Evidence. Basic human decency."
Moody's eye narrowed. "You were the Potters' Secret Keeper, and now they're dead. Start talking."
Great, Sirius thought. Here we go.
Before he could launch into his defense (which would've been a masterclass in sass), Dumbledore appeared like the benevolent wizard he was, gliding in with that trademark twinkle in his eye. If this were a chess game, Dumbledore had just moved his queen to save the day.
"Alastor," Dumbledore said in that calm, don't-you-dare-mess-with-me tone, "perhaps we should hear Sirius out before making any rash decisions."
Moody grumbled but backed off, though his magical eye kept twitching toward Sirius as if daring him to do something shifty.
Sirius took a deep breath. It was time to drop the bomb. "I wasn't the real Secret Keeper. It was Peter Pettigrew."
The entire room froze. Even Moody's magical eye seemed to stall for a moment. "Pettigrew?" he repeated, like Sirius had just told him the Easter Bunny was a Death Eater. "That spineless rat?"
"Yes, that spineless rat," Sirius confirmed. "We made me the decoy to keep everyone safe. But Peter's the one who betrayed them."
Moody's wand twitched again, but this time it didn't fire off a hex. So, progress?
Dumbledore nodded. "I believe the use of Veritaserum will clarify this matter."
Which is how Sirius found himself sitting in front of the DMLE, sipping a potion that tasted like old gym socks, while Barty Crouch Sr. hovered nearby. Crouch had that look of someone who really wanted to throw Sirius into Azkaban, just to make himself look good. Sirius could practically see the headline: Crouch Saves Wizarding World by Imprisoning Notorious Black.
But with Dumbledore in the room, Crouch was forced to play nice.
Sirius, now under the influence of the truth serum, spilled the whole story. How they'd switched Secret Keepers at the last minute, how Peter had been the one to sell out James and Lily, and how Peter had disappeared after the attack.
By the time he finished, the room was dead silent. Crouch's face was an interesting shade of tomato, and you could tell he was kicking himself for almost locking up the wrong guy.
Dumbledore, always the voice of reason, broke the silence. "It appears that Sirius Black is innocent."
Crouch cleared his throat, clearly desperate to save face. "Yes, well... mistakes happen. We'll... uh... track down Pettigrew immediately."
Sirius, ever the gentleman, couldn't resist. "You better. He's probably in a sewer somewhere, having a lovely time as a rat."
Marlene elbowed him, hard. But it was worth it for the look on Crouch's face.
As they left the Ministry, Sirius threw a grin at Marlene. "That went well, don't you think?"
Marlene gave him the look of someone who was seriously questioning her life choices. "Define 'well.'"
"I mean, I'm not in Azkaban, right?"
She rolled her eyes but cracked a smile. "Let's get out of here before they change their minds."
Sirius grinned, feeling lighter than he had in days. "You're the boss."
—
Artemis and Zoe zipped through the night sky in the moon chariot, the cool air rushing past them like a refreshing gust of cosmic breeze. Zoe, the ever-determined Huntress, was discovering that holding a squirming baby was a bit more complicated than she'd anticipated. Who knew babies could wiggle like caffeinated centaurs?
"Why didn't anyone warn me that tiny humans were this wiggly?" Zoe grumbled, trying to keep a firm grip on the little bundle squirming in her arms. Baby Harry had a knack for dramatic escapes, and it felt like a full-time job to keep him contained.
"Just hold on tight, Zoe," Artemis said, her calm voice cutting through the chaos. "We're almost there."
Zoe rolled her eyes. "Easy for you to say! I didn't sign up for babysitting duty. I signed up for hunting, archery, and a lifetime of avoiding boys!"
After what felt like forever, they finally landed in Yellowstone National Park. The landscape was a stunning tapestry of greens and blues, completely untouched by civilization. As they stepped off the chariot, the Huntresses had set up camp in a clearing that felt like something out of a nature documentary—minus the commentary from David Attenborough, of course.
At first, the other Huntresses regarded baby Harry with a mix of curiosity and caution, as if he were an exotic creature they'd just encountered in the wild. Their expressions shifted from intrigued to bemused as Harry began his usual antics, morphing his hair from messy black to vibrant blue, then to a sparkly gold that practically glowed in the moonlight.
Laughter erupted around the camp, and suddenly Harry was the life of the party, even if he didn't quite know it yet. His innocent giggles seemed to spark something in the Huntresses—something warm and fuzzy that had been dormant for far too long.
Phoebe was the first to break the ice, stepping forward with wide, excited eyes. "Can I hold him?" she asked, her voice dropping to a near whisper as if Harry were some sacred artifact.
Zoe tightened her grip instinctively. "He's not a toy, Phoebe!" she retorted, her protective instincts kicking in.
"Oh, come on! Just for a second!" Phoebe pleaded, practically sparkling with excitement.
Atalanta, the fastest Huntress around, was already inching closer, a grin spreading across her face. "Look at him! He's a little miracle!"
Harry, sensing all this attention, babbled something that might have sounded like "Mama," which sent another wave of adoration through the Huntresses. It was as if he'd cast a spell—one of cuteness rather than magic—drawing them all in closer, forming an almost sisterly bond.
But behind the giggles and warm feelings, something deeper was happening. Harry was not just any baby; he was the son of Lily, who had once walked the earth as Artemis. Aphrodite's blessing flowed through him, wrapping the Huntresses in a protective love that had nothing to do with romance. Each of them became a big sister to Harry, with Zoe being the most fiercely protective.
"Now, remember," Zoe warned, casting a wary eye over her sisters, who were fawning over Harry like he was a rare Pokémon. "He's not just a cute little face. He's got a legacy to protect."
"Special how?" Phoebe asked, her brows furrowing with curiosity as she reached out again, clearly unable to resist Harry's charm.
"Long story," Artemis replied with a soft smile, her gaze lingering on Harry as he giggled again, blissfully unaware of his extraordinary heritage. "But let's just say he's not your average baby."
Zoe puffed out her chest, ready to take on the world if anyone dared to threaten her new little brother. "Indeed! Thou must all bear in mind that he is not a mere trinket to play with! I shall safeguard him against all manner of dangers!"
Harry, for his part, reached out to Zoe, his tiny fingers brushing her cheek, and she felt her resolve melt just a little. He was a beacon of joy, and in that moment, all the Huntresses felt the warmth of sisterly love wrap around them like a cozy blanket.
As the night wore on, the camp echoed with laughter and playful banter, blending seamlessly with the sounds of nature. Harry, the tiny Metamorphmagus, was blissfully unaware of the adventures that awaited him or the extraordinary legacy he carried. For now, all that mattered was the warmth of newfound family, the thrill of sisterly bonds, and the laughter that filled the air, reminding everyone that even the fiercest of Huntresses could find joy in unexpected places.
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