My Child

Dark. It was dark and cold. It hurt. Everything ached. Why did his heart ache?

“Child, they destroyed you.”

Who was talking? It was warm, their voice. When was the last time he heard such care from someone?

“I don’t like this. I should simply just kill them all, but I can’t. You weren’t careful, child. Now they’ve shred you down to the last thread, and even that has been thinned.”

They were angry. Why were they angry? Did he do something? Was it his fault? Why does it itch, his heart, his eyes felt like they were on fire.

“I made a deal, my child, I won’t let this happen again.” A cold hand covered his eyes, “I’ll send you somewhere else, it’ll be dangerous, but this time… I’ll be there every step of the way.”

Okay. Harry was willing to go anywhere that the kind voice asked of him. It had been years since someone had provided him with comfort.

“Hey, kid.” A rough, gravelly voice shook him from his dream. “What the hell are you doing, sleeping on a bench in the middle of New York? Where are your parents?”

Parents? Aunt Petunia had said they died in a car crash. Where was she, she didn’t like anyone talking to him.

“Who are you, mister?” Harry spoke politely, Uncle Vernon would sooner twist his arm broken if he ever caught Harry speaking in any way that wasn’t polite. “Where’s Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon?”

The man scrunched up his brows, staring down at Harry with folded arms. He was wearing a blue shirt with short sleeves, but it had buttons. Harry wondered if anyone would tell the man that button shirts are supposed to have long sleeves. The man had a pin, like one of those that Mrs. Henly would hand out if you did a really good job in class, hooked onto the front pocket of said shirt, spelling out a word and a letter; ‘Liam. O.’

His legs shifted, causing the pouch-like thing strapped to the man’s belt to make a clicking sound as it jostled slightly.

“You’re with your aunt and uncle?” The mister frowned, his eyes narrowing. “Are they somewhere nearby?”

Harry looked around, trying to spot them, before shaking his head.

“When did you last see them, kid?”

Harry thought hard about it. When was the last time he had seen them?

“Aunt Petunia told me to sit here, and then she walked that way.” Harry pointed down the road, “Are you a police officer, mister?”

The man crouched down, showing a forced grin. He was angry at something. Did Harry do something bad already?

“That’s right, kiddo. I’m Officer Liam Orbona, can you tell me your name?”

“I’m Harry, Harry Potter.” He blinked, why was an officer talking to him? Uncle Vernon said they would only talk to him if he did something bad, and that he needed to confess whatever he did and apologize if they even talked to Uncle Vernon. “Did I do something bad?”

The Officer sighed, rubbing his hand on his chin. “Well, Harry. Can you tell me why you were sleeping on the bench? Or how long your aunt has been gone?”

Harry tilted his head, “I was tired, and Aunt Petunia said I had to stay here. I wasn’t supposed to leave, and it got really dark, so I fell asleep. I’m sorry.”

He wasn’t supposed to sleep on benches. He knew now for next time.

The Officer’s jaw tightened, straining to keep his smile on his face. “No, no. If you’re tired, then you should sleep, but how come your aunt was gone for so long? Does she usually leave you like this?”

Harry bit his lip, clutching the paper that his aunt had thrust into his hands the night before. “She said that I had to wait for the bus, to go to this camp, but the bus never showed up; so, I had to stay here.”

Officer Liam nearly felt like slamming his fist against something as the young boy handed him the paper. A half-blood had been left stranded in the middle of a city by his guardian, which God or Goddess approved such guardian? Were they not paying attention? He had thought that after Percy Jackson had demanded more active parenting from the Gods as his boon, this sort of thing would no longer happen, obviously, he was mistaken.

“Harry, how old are you?” Please, please just look really young.

“I’m nine!”

Shit.

“How do you fancy a trip, Harry? I’ll take you to this camp and then I’ll try to see if they have a way of getting ahold of your aunt.” Orbona was not going to kill a mortal, but they were very close to overstepping their authority and fighting the Greeks. “I know someone from there who would absolutely love to meet you.”

Chiron owed them.

Harry bounced happily as he sipped the orange juice that the nice officer gave him, they were walking through the woods and Officer Liam was the nicest person Harry had ever met!

Not only did he buy him some food, but he also carried Harry when he got tired from walking. Harry hoped that Officer Liam never left.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the knock-off version of Artemis prancing around my doorstep?” A man with dark hair and a face that Uncle Vernon would spat at form being a; ‘No-good playboy.’ Uncle Vernon didn’t like when people were praised for their looks, only if it wasn’t him or his family though. “…with a child. Don’t you have your own camp?”

“He’s not mine, Dionysus.” Officer Liam immediately refuted, setting Harry down. “I found him sleeping on a bench in the middle of the city, abandoned by his aunt with only a damned flyer about your camp.”

“We don’t have flyers.” Dionysus sniffed, leaning against a tree.

Officer Liam raised his brows, handing over Harry’s paper. Dionysus did not look happy in any sort of way as he scanned the contents before glancing at him.

“Where did your aunt get this paper, short stump?”

Harry stuck out his lips, this man wasn’t nice. He looked pretty, but his words were ugly. He turned his head, burying his face in the leg of Orbona’s pants. The dark-haired man’s eyes were cold, hardened. They weren’t anything like the anger or hatred that would fill Uncle Vernon’s eyes, in fact, they looked as if he wouldn’t care what happened.

“Look, I’m here to drop him off and see if you have an info on the woman, I need to get back quickly though. I’m still on duty, so just send a call over if you do know anything, alright?” Officer Liam then knelt down, settling his hands on Harry’s shoulders, “If you need anything, Harry, don’t be afraid to get into contact with me.”

The officer sent a withering glare at Dionysus before spinning on his heels and hurrying off to where he left his car.

Harry didn’t want him to leave, but it didn’t matter what Harry wanted. It never did.

“Harry, huh? Doesn’t sound like you were named by your Godly parent, at least.” The handsome man snorted, shoving his hands in his pocket and slinking off deeper into, what Harry assumed was, the camp. “Damned good luck you have, though, with Orbona coming across you before any of the beasts found you.”

“Beasts?” Harry tilted his head, “What beasts?”

Dionysus stopped walking, turning to look back at Harry and grinned so wide that the boy thought that his lips might break open with how tight they spread. “You don’t know? The monsters that hunt your kind down? Hells, you don’t even know what you are, do you?”

Harry frowned, hearing the sound of something clacking against the ground, much like a horse.

Suddenly, a man mixed with a horse came up from behind Dionysus.

“Was it important? Why did Orbona suddenly— Oh dear, we have company.”

“Hello.” Harry had never met a horseperson before. Uncle Vernon said they didn’t exist, but it seemed like he just hadn’t met one. “I’m Harry.”

“Hello, young Harry.” The horseperson peered down at him, “I’m Chiron.”