Harry Potter, Squatter

By Enterprise1701_d

Chapter 81

Harry grinned at his friends as they walked through the forest after a truly exceptional cup of tea with Tapio and Mielikki. "Like I said," he gloated, "a cup of tea isn't an adventure."

Annabeth sulked in a truly epic fashion at the I-told-you-so.

"I'm most disappointed that they confirmed there aren't any Crumpled-horned Snorkacks in Finland," Luna said sadly, before perking up. "But they do make an impressive cup of tea."

"And if it's one thing the British know, it's a good cuppa," Hermione agreed. "And it was especially nice of Lady Mielikki to give us all a small box of it."

Harry's fingers traced the small box in his Hammerspace pocket and nodded. He'd have to share it with Hestia. She would love it too, he was sure of it.

"It's still strange to see you do that," Hermione complained at the sight of half his arm vanishing into an invisible pocket.

Harry grinned at her. "Learn the truth about magic, Hermione, and I'll teach you how to build one yourself. It's not easy, though. Just a fair warning."

Hermione paled slightly at the thought of a piece of magic that Harry found 'not easy'.

He shot her a grin, before looking at Zoë. "You seemed quite interested in your conversation with Mister Tapio, Miss Zoë," he said.

The Hunter of Artemis nodded. "As Lord of the Hunt, he is patron to the same domain I belong to. As he belongs to a different Pantheon, he hath different teachings. 'T was most interesting to learn about differing traditions. I am sure My Lady will appreciate learning about them."

Harry chuckled. "You are such a spy," he accused with a laugh.

Zoë stuck her nose in the air. "'T is merely common sense to expand one's horizons and to learn new things," she stated, before grinning at him.

There was some smattering of laughter among them as they traveled in silence.

"I still think that a pair of gods kidnapping us counts as an adventure," Annabeth said as she sulked.

"It was an invitation, not a kidnapping," Harry said.

"An invitation we couldn't refuse," Annabeth retorted.

"We could have," Harry said. "It just wouldn't have been polite to decline the invitation of a pair of gods. Especially ones in charge of the domain we're traveling through. Besides, considering how little people still remember the gods, I think they were lonely and just wanted a chance to talk with someone new."

"I know I recognized Lady Mielikki's name," Hermione interjected. "In Dungeons and Dragons, they have her as the Goddess of the Forest!"

Harry nodded. "Yup. Sometimes popular culture allows gods to hang on, spreading knowledge and belief in them." He suddenly grinned. "That reminds me of a fascinating little story I learnt from Mister Anubis."

Annabeth groaned. "And now Egyptians," she muttered. Percy grinned and patted her shoulder.

"Give it up while you're behind, Wise Girl," he counseled. She shot him a dirty look. Harry just grinned.

"Anyway, Mel introduced me to Mister Anubis," Harry explained. "I only met him for like an hour or two, so it's not like I know him that well. But, he explained to me how the Egyptians saw the soul."

Harry continued with an explanation of the Egyptian concept of the soul to his friends, then ended with his realization about Tutankhamen, how the poor boy-king would have all but wasted away until his tomb had been found and his name was spoken once again, reviving his soul in the afterlife.

"I can see the similarity," Hermione said, nodding.

"You have a strange life," Selina commented with a laugh. "Strange, but fun. For as long as you're on the sidelines laughing, that is."

"Gee, thanks," Harry pretended to grouch.

"Thy friends know thee well," Zoë said with a firm nod. "Thy luck is reaching status of legend."

"Blame Mom. I do," Harry continued to pretend to grouch, folding his arms. "Stupid luck, getting me both into, and out of, trouble."

Luna laughed. "And it plays with your mind, too. Being invited to tea, expecting trouble, and not getting any, sounds like a psychological trick."

Harry nodded, then his face froze as he thought of something. "That's right, something should have happened," he said. "Now I'm paranoid about something else happening."

"Well!" Annabeth said, clapping her hands. "The afternoon's almost over. What does everyone say about going home?"

Harry gave her a foul look. She ignored him. The others laughed. Harry gave them a foul look, too. They also ignored him.

"There, there, Harry," Luna comforted him by patting his back. "There, there."

"Thanks, Luna," Harry replied, not feeling all that comforted, but happy that she at least tried. It was more than what the others were doing.

"Good, that was the extent of what I learned about comforting people," Luna said. "I learnt it from some American Reverend. He didn't seem very good at it, but it seems to have worked anyway, contrary to what I thought."

Harry narrowed his eyes as he now realized that the 'comforting' was familiar from a specific TV show, which did indeed feature a Reverend. It now made him wonder whether Luna owned a TV or not.

Luna cheerfully ignored him. It was becoming a theme. He wasn't sure whether or not he liked it.

"Despite you talking in code, I'll take a gamble," Hermione said. "Seventh Heaven?" she asked.

"The Simpsons, Reverend Lovejoy to Bart Simpson," Harry replied.

Percy laughed softly. He'd gotten the reference, even managing to get it correct, and he found Harry's reaction hilarious. It drew a look of betrayal from Harry, which only caused the Son of Poseidon to laugh harder.

Able to take a joke at his expense, he chuckled. Then, he blatantly changed the subject. Looking at Annabeth, he said, "So, yeah, let's enjoy the last couple of hours in this beautiful forest, have a nice meal, and then I'll take everyone home."

As the others nodded, Annabeth seemed to stare at him for a few moments. "I didn't see you hunt or forage anything," she accused. "Unless you're planning on conjuring food?"

"I could conjure food, yes," he replied, before motioning at Zoë. "But we're here, in these beautiful woods, with Miss Zoë. Being in the woods with her is like walking through the local convenience store. Everything we need is here, all we need is the knowledge and skill to use it."

Zoë had a smirk. "After these years of study, thou shouldst be able to retrieve thine own food, Harry," she told him sternly. "Unless thou art set upon proving thyself as a failed student."

Harry grinned at her as the others laughed. "I'm confident of being able to keep everyone alive, but that doesn't mean I'm as good at is as you are, Miss Zoë," he deflected.

"'T is merely a matter of experience," she stated, then eyed him, apparently hoping he'd mention her age – or agelessles.

Harry nodded. "I definitely agree," he said, dodging a bullet in mid-flight. Even he knew better then to comment upon a female's age. He clapped his hands and looked at his friends. "Come on, let's have a nice walk, and enjoy some good food and good company."

In the end, they did enjoy the walk, the dinner Harry made with the ingredients Zoë supplied was excellent, and everybody made it home without adventures.

Which worried Harry a little, to be honest. Thankfully, his worry vanished when Hestia enthusiastically appreciated the tea he'd gotten.

0000

Harry casually stepped out of the Floo point at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, dragging his wheelie bag behind him. Taking a long look around the platform, and noticing the sometimes embarrassing displays enacted by some of the adults, he felt relieved that Hestia had chosen to do her embarrassing displays in private.

Dragging his wheelie bag, he made his way to the train, determined to spend another few minutes admiring the bright red steam engine. Being a young boy, marveling at dirty and noisy heavy machinery was practically mandatory.

Plus, said admiration had gained him some friends last year, so it was also traditional.

He found his way to his gawking spot interrupted by a familiar pair of faces.

"Hello, Harry," Draco greeted him.

"Draco!" Harry cheerily returned, grabbing his friend's hand. "I hope you had a good second half of the break," he added, before looking at the boy's father. "Hello, Mister Malfoy. It's good to see you again."

"And you as well, Mister Potter," Malfoy Senior replied easily. "I am glad we were able to see you on the platform," he added. "After all, there was the minor invitation that I extended last time."

Harry nodded. "I remember," the Son of Tyche replied. "When would be good for you?"

"How does this Friday sound?" Draco's father asked. Harry grinned at how Malfoy Senior had basically just assumed that Harry could walk out of Hogwarts at any time. Of course, he'd kicked up enough fuss about it last year, but it was still nice to see that at least some adults were capable of ignoring rules that were a bother instead of a help.

Harry then thought about the actual date. "That should work, I think," he replied. "Although it is the first week back from holiday, and I'm sure you remember how evil the Professors are with their homework requirements just after vacations. They all assume that we've forgotten how to dress ourselves and eat without spilling."

Draco looked away as his shoulders shook, and Malfoy Senior's lips twitched in a suppressed smile. "That's a good point, Mister Potter," the man said. "Next week Friday evening, then?"

"That sounds good to me, Mister Malfoy," Harry answered. "Thank you for the invitation."

"You're quite welcome, Mister Potter." Lucius turned toward Draco. "Draco, do well in class. I will see you next week."

"Of course, Father," Draco replied, deferentially. Harry wanted to sigh, it seemed like his Slytherin friend had been brainwashed again. It would probably take him a couple of weeks to get him acting as a human being again. His opinion of Malfoy Senior took a dive.

Harry accompanied his friend onboard, forgetting about admiring the steam engine as he did so. He was lost in thought instead; it was curious how Lucius Malfoy could be a reasonable human being one moment, before turning into yet another adult in another. It set him on edge, and reminded him that the dinner was going to be an interesting minefield.

After all, he didn't want to create problems for Draco.

Draco decided on finding his own compartment, citing friends in Slytherin he wanted to catch up with, and Harry had bade him a good trip. Half an hour later, Harry's compartment was full, and the train had left King's Cross for the trip up north.

Considering the amount of friends that stopped by during the trip, Harry was just relieved that nobody made an issue of the fact that a compartment only seated six.

The trip to Hogwarts passed quickly while Harry and Hermione regaled various friends with stories about the trip to Finland.

0000

Harry listened politely to the Sorting Hat singing about school unity; it wasn't the best singer and the song wasn't that well-written, but politeness mattered.

He looked at Nemmy instead, letting the Hat sing in the background. The Nemean House Cat had draped himself across the table amid the empty crockery and cutlery. Four different Hufflepuffs were offering worship; the house-cat sized monster gratefully accepted said offerings and repaid them with purrs.

The Son of Tyche snickered at the sight of the fearsome monster purring lavishly while four different students were petting him.

Justin leaned over as the actual sorting started, distracting Harry from waving at Luna. She seemed to be the only one of the new first-years who looked neither impressed nor nervous. That was so very much like her, Harry reasoned.

"Your cat has stolen your thunder again," Justin said, looking at the golden-furred feline.

"I'll make sure to thank him later," Harry whispered back, never liking to be at the center of attention. "He's such a good cat, distracting everyone."

Justin snickered. Quietly. Because Professor McGonagall was still scary when she glared at you.

With all of the distraction and whispers going on, Harry hadn't followed the initial sorting, but his attention re-focused when Luna was up. She confidently strode to the stool, accepted the Sorting Hat, and sat quietly for a few moments.

Harry clapped loudly and grinned as Luna ultimately went into Ravenclaw. That house definitely suited her, he thought. He casually made a mental note to remind himself to ask Michael and Anthony to keep an eye out for his friend.

He tuned out as the sorting continued, already thinking ahead about the meal. He was getting quite hungry. While Fire-Travel had advantages when traveling long distances, it unfortunately did nothing for switching timezones.

Finally, Weasley, Ginevra had been sorted, after quite a long delay, into Gryffindor. As the girl went to the Gryffindor table, she shot a rather longing look at the Hufflepuff table. When she met his eyes, she let out a tiny squeak, before hurrying to her new table.

"I wonder what that was about," Harry muttered.

Susan, Hannah, Sally-Anne, and various other girls within muttering range all gave him a disappointed look. "The girl has a crush, it's not nice to tease her about it," Susan said authoritatively, having apparently decided on being spokesperson for the group of girls.

"Huh, okay," Harry replied, rather startled at the vary idea that someone might have a crush on him. Immediately, he hoped he wouldn't run across the girl very often; he had no idea how to handle a crush. Plus, the last thing he wanted to do was do something wrong and end up in Angry Artie's crosshairs. Angry Artie turned into Artemis and that was one thing he needed to avoid at all costs.

Harry drew his attention back to the here and now, and listened to Albus giving his opening speech, formally starting the year and the feast. Looking over his shoulder as the food started to appear, Harry glanced at Hermione. She was relegated to the Gryffindor table for the official feasts, and seemed to have kept a couple of seats open between herself and some of the other Gryffindor students.

Especially Ron, it seemed. Apparently, Hermione had never quite forgiven him for his comments after she had tried to help him with his pronunciation of Wingardium Leviosa.

Harry gave her a supportive look before turning to the heavily laden table. If his friend didn't want to forgive someone, that was her choice. Personally, he tried to forgive and forget, but if Hermione didn't want to, he wasn't going to force her. He'd support her anyway he could, that was what friends did.

He finally dug into the evening meal, despite the fact that he still thought there was too much fried food and not enough healthy vegetables. Still, it had been cooked with love and care, and that was enough to satisfy him. For a moment, he stopped eating and looked at a patch of empty air.

"Thanks, guys," he directed quietly at the spot of nothing, while keeping the House-Elves firmly in mind.

The patch of empty air quivered for a moment, making him grin.

"Are you being weird again?" Susan asked jokingly, before looking at Hannah. "Look at that grin. He's being weird again, isn't he?"

Hannah gave a theatrical look of study, rubbing her chin as she did so. "I think you're right, Susan. He is being weird again."

Harry snorted, laughed along with his other friends, then sniffed theatrically as he stuck his nose in the air and looked away. "I'm not talking to you two for the next… I don't know… five minutes."

"Oh no," Susan moaned, her hand to her heart. "However will I survive?"

More laughter spread among those closest to Harry. "That feeling of intense loneliness as I don't talk to you for the next four minutes and 36 seconds is exactly what you deserve," Harry declared, before the laughter of his friends made him fail at keeping a straight face.

It was good to laugh with friends.

0000

The classes went about as good as they went the first year, Harry thought. Professor Sprout was letting the non-Hufflepuff Second Years into the greenhouse with the dangerous magical plants, and gave a rather interesting lecture on Mandrakes.

Harry grinned at the memory of what Mandrake Draught had done during Percy's quest. Mister Asclepius was probably still working on de-petrifying all those poor people.

On the other hand, Professor McGonagall started with reviewing safety procedures before trying to teach them how to turn a beetle into a button.

Harry almost – almost – refused on sheer principle. Animal experimentation may be wrong, but beetles were just insects. Plus, he didn't want to kick off a ruckus on the first day of class. He may have a good understanding with Albus, but starting trouble on the first day may be stretching things.

Still, though, he wouldn't forget. It was his opinion that these things tended to slip down a slippery slope and the moment their animal experimentation went beyond arthropods and into higher creatures… well, he'd kick up a ruckus then.

Professor McGonagall eyed him with an initial look of confusion that turned into one of warning. Apparently, he hadn't hidden his thoughts well enough.

Or maybe it was because he hadn't actually completed the lesson, and instead just waved his wand like a conductor's baton.

Thankfully, Defense Against the Dark Arts was still being taught by Professor Quirrell, and Harry felt like he could relax after the rather stressful Transfiguration class.

His only regret was that they didn't have Potions on the first day. Most of his housemates thought his crazy for voicing the thought, though, which confused him. Professor Snape was excellent at Potions, and as long as you kept your thoughts on the subject and prepared for the lessons, there wasn't a problem.

Speaking of that, he took the time to explain the 'preparation' part with the First-Year Hufflepuffs. They were suitably grateful after their first Potions lesson.

The first Potions class went very well for Harry and about as well as expected for everyone else. He reminded them cheekily to prepare, drawing foul looks, before grinning and sitting down with them to review the important bits and see where he could help shore up deficiencies.

Sally-Anne, not the most powerful of witches, seemed to have set her sights on becoming a Potions Mistress, and Harry spent most of the session tutoring her on advanced knife skills and preparation techniques. He was glad to hear she'd found a goal and a pursuit in life.

Strangely enough, the only unusual thing about returning for a second year at Hogwarts were the random encounters with Weasley, Ginevra. Harry, remembering the warning from his friends, attempted to be nice to the girl. This usually involved a nod of greeting whenever they crossed paths – inevitably resulting in a squeak, a blush, and a Gryffindor firstie that made a run for it.

Harry continuously shook his head whenever that happened. Girls were weird.

0000

Harry entered the grand Malfoy Mansion through the floo in the entry hall. Draco had coached him regarding this, apparently most mansions had a private floo for family members, located usually in the living area, and a public floo for visitors that was usually located in the entry hall.

Apparently, for magicals, 'popping by' involved either the floo or a quick teleport to the front door of the people you were visiting.

He casually stepped out of the fireplace, glad to have cheated using Hestia's Fire Travel methods. The bastardized version in use by the Wizarding World involved too much spinning for his tastes.

Curious, he looked around. The entry hall for Malfoy Mansion involved a large open space with lots of marble and a magical circle inlaid on the floor. Harry grinned as he read it; it'd been built out of runes and contained a grammatical error.

Not that he was going to point this out to anybody – as stated earlier, Draco had coached him well on what to expect, what to do, and what not to do.

Pointing out your host's runic errors was a no-no, he didn't need Athena's education to know that.

"You is expected," an unexpected House-Elf popped into sight next to him. "Master Malfoy is arriving shortly."

Harry smiled at the creature, causing it to startle and its eyes to grow big. "Thank you," he said, giving a polite nod.

"You is thanking Dobby," the House-Elf whispered, as if it couldn't believe what just happened. "Nobody is thanking Dobby."

Harry blinked, and tried not to show how much that statement angered him. "Well, I am," Harry said. "Everybody deserves respect."

Before Dobby couldn't say anything, a door opened down the corridor that lead into the large entrance hall.

"Ah, Mister Potter," Lucius greeted. "Welcome to our humble home." He threw a glare at Dobby, causing the House-Elf to squeak and vanish. Malfoy Senior focused his gaze on his young guest once more. "Please, come this way."

Harry nodded politely, and hoped that his inner thoughts weren't written all over his face. He was doing this to help Draco, to ensure his friend didn't get in trouble for speaking with him. He had remember that.

Distracting him with the opulent surroundings, Harry studied the expensive marble, the grammatically incorrect runic circle, and the paintings.

Said paintings studied him, in return.

Magical portraits were weird like that.

The dining room at Malfoy Manor was as grand as Harry had imagined it would be. Tall windows framed by heavy emerald drapes let in the soft glow of outside twilight. A long mahogany table stretched nearly the length of the room, polished to the point of reflecting the flickering candlelight from an elaborate chandelier above. Gilded place settings gleamed under the light, and the faint scent of rosemary and thyme lingered in the air, wafting in from the kitchen. Obviously, the House Elves were cooking up a storm.

Harry wasn't at all intimidated by the ornate environment he found himself in, and repressed a smile at the thought of cooking taking place.

He was seated next to Draco, with Lucius at the head of the table and his wife Narcissa opposite Draco. He sat upright, a result of the lessons imparted by both Athena, Goddess of Wisdom and Strategy, and Hestia, Goddess of Home and Hearth. He knew how important this dinner could be for Draco, and he was going to pull on every lesson he'd learned to make sure that it went well. He would adhere to every rule of hospitality and be a good houseguest.

As he smiled at his hosts, his very presence carried a homely warmth that was distinctly Hestia's. She had instilled in him an unshakable sense of belonging and comfort, even in the grand and unfamiliar halls of Malfoy Manor.

Lucius Malfoy, seated at the head of the table, observed Harry with a polite, almost serpentine smile. Dressed in fine black robes, his silver hair shimmered like spun silk. Narcissa, poised and elegant as ever, sat beside him, her features soft but her blue eyes calculating. Draco's pale face was neutral, though Harry could sense the tension in his friend's rigid shoulders.

"Mr. Potter," Lucius began, his voice smooth and deliberate as he raised his goblet of wine, "it is a great honor to have you join us tonight. I must admit, I was quite surprised that you accepted my invitation. Surprised, but certainly not displeased."

Harry smiled politely, lifting his glass of orange juice in response. "Thank you for inviting me into your home, Mr. Malfoy," he said, politely. "It was most kind of you to invite me."

He understood what the man meant, however. It was well-known that the Malfoys had been ardent supporters of the Dark Lord… before Hades had ripped his soul out of Harry and stuffed him into the Fields of Punishment, anyway. With said Dark Lord having killed Harry's parents, Harry would have been well within his rights to refuse the invitation.

If he hadn't been adopted and raised by Hestia, that is. Harry didn't want to dwell on the past, no matter how much it hurt, and he wanted to avoid – or defuse – conflict as much as he could.

Lucius inclined his head slightly, his pale gray eyes glinting, ignorant of Harry's inner thoughts. There came a faint smile on his lips at Harry's response, and a subtle tension seemed to release from his shoulders at the lack of immediate passive-aggressive or otherwise antagonistic response from their guest.

"Indeed. We Malfoys pride ourselves on our hospitality," Lucius replied. "I hope you find our home welcoming."

"The house is beautiful," Harry offered. "Very... traditional." He wanted to kick himself over the word, it wasn't exactly what he had meant to say, but it slipped out. Draco had hammered home the point that his father always talked about tradition, and the word had stuck in his mind.

He made a mental note, he'd need to ask Miss Athena for lessons on decorum at a high-profile dinner party, it seemed.

Draco's lips twitched, as though suppressing a smile, but he said nothing. Narcissa gave a gracious nod. "We are quite proud of our heritage, Mr. Potter. Tradition is the backbone of wizarding society, wouldn't you agree?" she asked.

Harry took a sip of his drink, carefully weighing his words, trying to hide the fact that his hosts had taken a compliment where he just saw a slip of the tongue. Athena had taught him to listen before speaking, to analyze the intent behind every statement. After all, the Greeks had elevated the debate to a form of art, and the Goddess of Wisdom was more than capable of making him learn the subject.

He suddenly realized that he'd basically walked into a trap; he'd expected the conversation to revolve around the things he'd been saying to Draco, but instead he was getting involved into a political discussion that he hadn't prepared for.

It was like one of those dreams, where you had to deliver a verbal report and found yourself without clothes. He wished he'd known in advance so he could read up on things.

"I think tradition can be important, yes," he finally said. "But sometimes, traditions can also hold people back. If no progress is made, we never improve."

Lucius's smile tightened ever so slightly. "An interesting point of view," he finally said. "Can you elaborate?" The man made it sound as if he were giving Harry a rope and told him to go hang himself with it.

Harry shrugged, and sipped his orange juice. It was actually freshly squeezed orange juice, too. Thankfully, they'd gone from politics into a philosophical debate – that was something he'd practiced often with Athena. Now on more familiar ground, he brought out a point he'd brought out in the past during one his tutoring sessions with the Goddess of Wisdom.

"My main example would be an old person grumbling about 'this new fangled invention called 'fire' that will never catch on and is burning down people's wooden huts. It's too dangerous and shouldn't be used'."

There was silence at the dinner table for a few long moments, moments that lasted long enough for Harry to start worrying if he'd offended his hosts.

Draco looked away, as if trying to avoid Harry's gaze. Narcissa was eyeing him in a way that some of the deities he knew eyed him when he did something unexpected. Lucius, meanwhile, remained perfectly still.

Finally, the man nodded. "Wise words for someone so young," he said, yet sounding as if it were painful to admit. "Indeed, sometimes progress must be made, and yet, sometimes tradition will teach us the wisdom of our forebearers."

Harry nodded, understanding where the man was coming from. "The balance between the two can be tricky," he replied. "But sometimes… sometimes I have the impression that tradition is used as an excuse not to change, because change, inevitably, is hard."

Draco seemed to swallow and study his plate with monomaniacal interest. Narcissa's lips twitched, but she hid the reaction as quickly as it had appeared. Lucius's lips tightened hard enough to whiten, before relaxing.

"For one that is young, that may appear to be the case," The Malfoy Patriarch eventually said. "And yet, sometimes one must be cautious, and sometimes tradition is built on the top of ancient wisdom."

Harry wanted to shrug dismissively, but restrained himself. High-profile dinner he reminded himself. It stung, he didn't like restraining himself. But, this was for Draco, and he didn't want to get his friend in trouble with his parents, so he'd do his best to make a good impression.

"I wish we knew which was which, though," he managed, not really sure what else to say without outright agreeing with something he didn't agree with. Sure, it would be politically expedient, but it would also mean lying.

"Such is always the difficulty," Lucius agreed easily and readily, his smile now more natural. "Tell me, Mister Potter, how well have you informed yourself of the politics of the Wizarding World?"

Harry's mind ground its gears as it was forced to radically shift to a different topic. He wished they'd stuck to philosophy, that was easier. Talking politics… he remembered Hestia telling him that there were two subjects best avoided at family get-togethers. The first being religion, the second being politics. Discussing those subjects would invariably lead to arguments.

"I know that Minister Fudge is in charge," he finally said, "and I have read up on some of the legislative and judicial institutions like the Wizengamot."

Lucius' smile broadened at Harry's choice of words. "Good, good," he stated. "It behooves everybody to have at least basic understanding of the institutions that govern us." With those words, the man leaned over. "Since, in your own words, you read up on the institutions of our government, tell me – how do you feel about Minister Fudge's term?"

Harry wanted to shrug, honestly. In his opinion, a person in power was bound to abuse it, just as he had been abused by those in power over him. He didn't dare voice that opinion, considering the he was a guest in those house and didn't want to run the risk of offending his hosts. Hestia would be most put out if he broke the rules of hospitality in such a fashion.

Lucius, seeing his hesitation, smiled in a way that put Harry on edge. "Perhaps, instead, you would rather see someone else in charge?"

Feeling on safer ground, despite the shark-like grin on Lucius' face, Harry answered, "Honestly, Mister Malfoy, I'm not sure if anyone would listen to a twelve-year-old on who to have as boss."

He screwed his eyes shut, and cursed silently. The whole uncomfortable atmosphere had gotten to him.

Thankfully, it seemed his comment hadn't offended anyone. Draco looked away, his shoulders shaking silently. Mrs Malfoy looked heartily amused for a second, before getting her poker face back. And Lucius… Lucius seemed just plain amused, and didn't bother hiding it. "You see, Mister Potter, that is where you are mistaken. The Dark Lord Voldemort was defeated when his killing curse failed to kill you. As you no doubt know, you were lauded for that event, called 'The Boy Who Lived'. Why, is it any wonder than Albus Dumbledore himself is bending over backwards to get in your good graces?"

Harry blinked, and Lucius continued, "Come now, Mister Potter. I have heard tales of how you negotiated weekend passes for yourself and anyone who wants them, as well as a special set of exams for you last year. And rumors have spread that you will be personally tutored in Alchemy this year."

Harry nodded, and was about to say something, when the Malfoy Patriarch pressed on. "All that political capital, just ripe for the picking. I'm sure that, should you come to support someone for Minister, they would probably be a shoe-in for the position."

The turn in the conversation, despite Harry seeing it coming, made him uncomfortable. He didn't like authority at the best of times, and the idea that he could just place someone in charge doubled down on that. Mortals were way too prone to abusing power, in his opinion, and the best way to deal with the whole mess was to not allow them power or authority in the first place. It was difficult to abuse what wasn't there, after all.

Still, he couldn't just come out and say that.

"Lucius, please," Narcissa said. "Must we spend the entire meal discussing politics?"

Harry looked at her as if she were holding up a cup of water in the middle of the Sahara.

"Quite true, quite true," Lucius said, leaning back in his chair. "My apologies, Mister Potter. Politics is a bit of a passion of mine and I sometimes get carried away."

"That's alright, Mister Malfoy," Harry said, feeling relieved that the conversation was over.

"Tell me, Mister Potter," Narcissa said, smoothly taking over. "Do you have any interesting hobbies?"

Considering what had just happened with Lucius, Harry tried not spend the rest of the meal talking about one of his absolute favorite pass-times – spending time in the woods with Miss Zoë.

He wasn't sure he succeeded, but his hosts were smiling widely as he spoke anyway.

0000

Harry pushed open the door of the games room at Asgard, coming face to face with his favorite God of Thunder. "Hi Thor!" he greeted amicably. Honestly, he had spent most of that Saturday in a session with Miss Athena, honing his skills in political dinners, and he could use a friendly face and some gam… ahem… maths.

"Hello, my young friend!" Thor greeted in his usual bombastic fashion, then eyed him. He wasn't carrying any dishes or plates, and it was obvious that the Norse god had expected treats.

Harry ignored him, and turned to survey the room. Only when he was sure that Thor couldn't see his face did he grin. "I see you set up a side-table," he commented, pointing to the table sitting against one of the wall, usually reserved for whatever goodies he brought.

"Ahem. Yes," Thor replied, for once not sounding absolutely, one-hundred-fifty-percent sure of himself.

"Good, I need it," Harry said, walking over to it and sticking his hand into his Hammerspace pocket. Up to his elbow, then up to his shoulder. Obviously rummaging around, he muttered, "where did I…"

Thor grinned widely now that he knew there were treats inbound, then snickered softly at how well Harry had played him.

Hearing his friend sicker, Harry looked over at him and laughed. "Got you, didn't I?" he asked.

"Well played," Thor admitted with a laugh. "Well played indeed."

Stopping the theatrics, Harry pulled out a couple of portable stoves, the ones that worked on a gas canister and normally meant for camping, and set them up. Next he pulled out two small cauldrons, ones that he most definitely hadn't borrowed from school, and positioned them over the burning portable gas stoves.

"Well now, this is new," Bai commented as he was suddenly there. "You don't usually go for warm stuff," he told Harry.

"It's an experiment that either went very wrong or very right, and I decided to share," Harry replied honestly. "Hello, Bai. Good to see you."

"Good to see you, Bai," Thor said. "No, I don't mind at all, come in, make yourself at home."

Bai waved off the God of Thunder, and grinned at Harry. "I think I am either extremely worried or extremely excited over your… experiment."

The Son of Tyche grinned. "You'll have to wait, though," he said, just as Triton entered, politely, through the door.

"Good evening all," the Messenger of the Seas greeted them all.

"See? Triton's polite," Thor muttered to the Chinese God, before greeting the newcomer. It wasn't long before Triton had made his way over to the side-table, where the small black and the small red cauldron were standing, innocently, over a burning camp stove.

"Evening all," Hermes said, appearing from nowhere, sounding as if his heart wasn't really in it.

Harry could understand. Luke, Son of Hermes, had betrayed them all, and had tried to kill both Percy and himself. Harry didn't much care for the latter, it wouldn't be the first time that someone tried to kill him, but he was absolutely furious about the former.

"Hi, Hermes," Harry said. He didn't blame Hermes in the least for Luke's actions, if that was what the god was worried about.

"Harry," Hermes said, looking at the boy. When Harry simply looked confused, the God of Thieves continued. "No comments about Luke?"

Harry shrugged. "His actions are his own, I'm not about to blame you for them, Hermes," he stated.

"That sounds like a story," Thor said, for once not sounding excited.

"It is," Harry answered, "but first, time for some goodies." He turned to the setup he'd installed on the side table, and pulled the lids off the two kettles. "I was experimenting with new types of chocolate and relatives of the cacao plant, and found a chocolate that absolutely refused to temper. Meaning that just looking at it would start to melt it. Thankfully, it makes wonderful hot chocolate." He pulled four tankards from the bar, then ladled them full with the concoction from the black kettle. "This is the pure version. The version in the red kettle has brandy in it, for those cold long winter nights."

Three gods laughed. One God of Thieves looked out of place. Yet, they all drank.

"This is extraordinary," Thor commented, the first one to do so. He then looked at Harry. "Yet, I would have expected you to go straight to your Lady and her patron Goddess."

Harry gave Thor a filthy look, then ignored him as he and Bai laughed. Triton looked as amused as he ever did, but Hermes looked sullen still.

"Artie prefers her chocolate in tablet form," Harry finally relented. "That is why the experiment was a failure. But, like I said, it makes wonderful hot chocolate and I thought I'd share."

"A definite success," Triton interjected. "It is a most wonderful concoction." He slurped another mouthful from his tankard. "Aunt Hestia no doubt is very proud of your continued improvement in skill."

"I hope so, Mister Triton," Harry replied. "I still have a lot to learn, both from her and from Granny Rhea."

"The more one knows, the more one realizes that one does not yet know," Bai said.

"Sometimes I love that ancient Chinese wisdom of yours," Thor commented with a grin.

The Chinese Western Wind laughed and pointed, somehow, simultaneously at Harry, Hermes, and Triton. "It's one of theirs. Aristotle, I believe. Or Socrates. I always get those confused."

Harry laughed. "Miss Athena would be most upset if I agreed with you out loud," he answered.

"So you agree with me in silence?" Bai reciprocated immediately.

"You never heard me say that," he replied cheerfully, causing a laugh from three gods and a momentary grimace from Hermes.

Thor slapped the God of Thieves on the back in a friendly manner, causing the Greek god to take half a step forward and shoot him an angry glare. "Don't be such a downer, Hermes," Thor said. "Come, let's grab a seat and you can tell us why you are looking like someone killed your puppy."

Hermes glared a moment longer, then swallowed, turned to the red cauldron, and ladled his tankard full of the alcoholic version of Harry's 'hot chocolate'. He took a big draught, then plunged down at the table.

Half an hour later, with Harry filling in the blanks, the story had been told and silence descended in the room.

"Like I said, I don't blame you for Luke's actions, Hermes," Harry said as the silence continued, before turning to Thor. "I really should see about sending your Mother and Father a present, the chainmail shirt they gave me saved my life. That sand scorpion nailed me in the back, I walked away with some bruises rather than a nasty case of poisoning."

"It will have to be my Mother," Thor answered. "Father is… away. Nobody really knows where."

"Oh," Harry said, wondering why Odin had taken off.

"My younger sibling was lucky you were there," Triton commented, interrupting his thoughts. "Thank you for that. I am sure our Father is quite appreciative of that fact as well." He smiled slightly. "It wouldn't do for him to perish before having experienced the joys of having an older brother."

Harry snorted, already imagining what the Messenger of the Seas had in mind. Poor Percy.

Hermes remained sullen, and continued to focus on Harry. "Harry, I don't want you killing Luke," he finally said. "He's still my son, and I still care for him."

The Son of Tyche blinked, and silence fell over the room once more. Three gods seemed to hold their breaths. A demigod struggled to come up with an answer. "He tried to kill Percy," he finally said.

"He also tried to kill you," Bai stated coldly, before focusing on Hermes. "Your son tried to kill our young friend, and he tried to kill Triton's little brother. He also betrayed your entire pantheon."

"He is my son," Hermes snapped.

Harry was silent for a few moments. "And I'm your grandson," he said, softly, making Hermes freeze. Not waiting for the God of Thieves to thaw, the Son of Tyche continued, "I won't go hunting for him, and I won't throw the first blow," he said, trying to defuse the argument even further. "But if he tries to hurt Percy or any of my friends, I will need to chose them over him, and he may not give me a choice."

"You don't even care about him trying to kill you!?" Thor thundered, not liking where this was going.

Harry shrugged. "It wouldn't be the first time someone tried to kill me," he replied. "Ares tries at least once a month, even if he calls it training, and he throws me to some death trap or other for my birthday each year." He stood up in the awkward silence of the four gods, and filled his tankard with the alcoholic hot chocolate. Hermes still looked frozen, as if the Greek god had suddenly come to a startling realization that he wasn't liking one bit.

The brandy gave the alcoholic hot chocolate a nice tingle and a heat that went beyond temperature. "I can forgive attempts on my life," Harry continued to say, "but he tried to kill one of my friends, and that's something I have a lot more trouble with." He turned to the table, the hand that wasn't holding his tankard was balled into a fist. "And, in the end, he didn't only betray me, or the camp, or the gods. He betrayed Hestia. And that's something I can't forgive." He drew a breath. "For her sake, I'll give him the chance. Because that's what she would want me to do. As long as he doesn't attack me, or my friends, or my allies, I will leave him be. But, should he attack us, I will defend myself and my friends."

Hermes flinched.

"Well said!" Thor exclaimed, before his large hand slapped down on the as-yet unusual table. "And now, cards! Enough heavy discussion, it's time for play and merriment!"

The God of Thieves sighed. "I guess that's the best I can hope for," he muttered, obviously hoping silently that his foolish son would take the chance when offered. As the quintet sat, Hermes turned toward Harry. "Harry?"

The young Son of Tyche looked over at his grandfather. "Thanks. For not going hunting for Luke. And for willing togive him a chance to come in clean."

Harry nodded gravely and smiled at Hermes. "We're family," he replied, as if the same simple statement answered everything.

And, in a way, it did.

He picked up the cards that Thor dealt him, looked at them, then flciked two cards face-down on the table. "I'll take two," he said, firmly determined to start playing poker and get away from family drama.

Honestly, where Hestia got her endless patience from, he had no idea.