Chapter Text
“I know what you want.”
Harry looked up from the campfire he was staring at. Around him was absolutely nothing but flat land and dim lighting. The hooded figure from his nightmares was in the distance with the same lantern in his hands.
“You want justice,” he croaked. “I can give you that.”
Harry slowly stood, the sand underneath him quietly falling back to their original place.
“Let me help you.”
Harry jolted awake, jerking to the side as if he were hit. From what he could see, the cabin was half empty. The remaining campers were shuffling out or barely getting up from bed. Surprisingly, no one paid any attention to Harry’s sudden movement.
“We all have them.” Tom’s voice dragged Harry to look right. He saw the older boy leaning against the bunk bed that was beside Harry. “The nightmares. It’s normal.”
“I wish they weren’t,” Harry muttered.
“We all do.”
Harry nodded, finding comfort in not being the only one.
“Come on.” Tom beckoned to the door. “Breakfast.”
Already in his Camp Half-Blood shirt and set of jeans, Harry got up and followed Tom out. Two boys followed along. One who was on the taller side; a person of color with buzzed hair and a crooked nose. The other was only slightly taller than Harry. He was pale with fully brown hair and a mole on his cheek. He walked with a confidence that seemed so close to overpowering Toms’.
“We all sit at the table assigned to our cabin,” explained Tom as they walked.
“Meaning, our table is filled with the most people,” the white one said. Harry recognized that voice. It was the boy from last night– Theo. Harry’s surprised he remembered that.
“That’s kind of– ow. ” Harry stopped in his tracks and glared at the person who had just bumped into him. The girl turned around and had a nasty smirk on her face. With short black hair and a pug-shaped face, her smirk wasn’t intimidating. Two other girls were beside her. He’s seen the one on the right in the Hermes cabin. Claimed or not, she looked to be the moody type. The other one, Harry knew who she was. The ginger hair and curious look on her face reminded him of Ron. She was his sister, Ginny.
“Watch it,” the girl snapped.
“Your fault, not mine,” Harry protested.
Mrs. Pug was not too happy about Harry’s attitude. She took a step forward and shoved Harry into Theo.
“Do something then,” she taunted.
Harry took a step forward, but Tom stepped between the both of them.
“Pansy,” Tom warned. “Is this really necessary?”
Pansy glared at him and went to speak, but Ginny grabbed her arm. “He’s not worth it, Pans.”
“Whatever,” she muttered before walking away with her friends
“Ignore her,” said Tom.
“Pansy can be a bit moody,” Mr. No-Name said. “She won’t always be like that.”
Harry nodded and resumed walking with the three of them, not fully agreeing. Harry had an inclining feeling that even without knowing her, the two of them wouldn’t get along.
Breakfast went by far too quickly, at least if you asked Harry. Ron had waved at him from the Apollo table, and Harry waved back awkwardly. Buck was nowhere in sight, which made Harry anxious. He really hoped his friend wasn’t in trouble.
Throughout the meal, a pair of eyes kept staring at Harry. It was the girl who had called him stupid. Hermione? Yeah, that was definitely her name. Who else would have a name like that? It felt like she was waiting for Harry to make a mistake, which he didn’t appreciate. He even tried slouching out of her view, but that didn’t work.
Harry was careful not to spill anything and embarrass himself.
The first activity of the day was swordsmanship practice. Of course, Harry wasn’t too thrilled—especially since he thought he might have to partner up with Pansy or even Ginny who Harry learned was an Ares kid and someone he shouldn’t mess with.
But then Tom offered to be his partner. They found a wide, open area away from the other campers, and Harry was more than relieved. He didn’t want anyone to see how bad he was at this.
“You were able to defeat the Minotaur,” Tom said, handing Harry a wooden sword. Harry took it, wondering why he couldn’t just use the one from his ring. Then he realized the practice probably wasn’t meant to injure anyone seriously.
“This should be easy for you,” Tom added.
“I was angry then,” Harry said miserably. “I’m not angry now.”
“Then get angry.” Without waiting, Tom lunged forward, his wooden sword slicing the air. Harry yelped and blocked it.
“Hey!”
“Embrace your anger, Harry,” asserted Tom. “People will tell you not to. That it’ll lead you down paths you can’t come back from. But I say… Anger fuels your power. It helps prove you’re strong enough to protect yourself and other people. It’ll keep you alive when it truly matters.”
“Right…” Harry said with a hint of uncertainty. His mom used to tell him that anger was never the right way to go. That if it were in the driver's seat, it’d only end in a car crash. But Tom had a point. Harry had slayed the Minotaur purely out of anger and frustration. He believed he wouldn’t have been able to do so without those emotions in charge.
Slowly, Harry raised his sword, holding it awkwardly as he was not used to it. He fueled the minor anger in him. He knew if he thought of his mom and how his father was absent in his life (even now), Harry would have started crying. Instead, he focused on the years of bullying– of being called names– of feeling broken and unseen– and used it to practice. He was determined to get a hit on Tom, but the older moved with elegance– agility that Harry wished he had.
By the end of it, Harry found himself slouching over, his hands on his knees and panting heavily.
“Not bad, Potter.” Tom grinned. “Almost nicked me.”
“Yeah, right,” Harry grumbled. “I suck.”
“It’s your first time,” he pointed out. “Swordsmanship– it’s hard. But, trust me, every demigod started where you are. You’ll get there.”
“And if I don’t?” Harry stood up straight, ignoring the fact that he forgot to put deodorant on. “Will my chance of being claimed drop from 2% to 0?”
Tom chuckled lightly, his charming smile making Harry’s cheeks turn a light pink.
“I don’t have an answer for that.” Tom suddenly looked irritated, but it was clear he was trying to mask it. His eyes sparked with hatred, and Harry connected the dots. He wasn’t sure how long Tom had been here for, but with what Ron’s brothers said, it had been a while. And he’s yet to be claimed. Harry couldn’t imagine how that must feel for him.
“The Gods,” Tom continued. “They work in ways that none of us will ever understand. Sometimes you just have to do things to prove to yourself instead of them. Because we’ll never know if we matter to them or not.”
“And we’re supposed to be okay with that?” Harry asked gently. “How is that fair?”
Tom sighed. “With the Gods… nothing is fair.”
Harry nodded, biting the inside of his mouth to keep something he might regret later.
“I don’t want to do this.” Harry looked down at the bow in his right hand, the arrow in his other. It felt out of place. And not just because Harry has never held one before.
“Too bad,” Ron said. Harry glared at him, and Ron grinned. “Come on! What if your dad is Apollo, hm? We’d get to be half-brothers!”
The thought made Harry sick. He doesn’t want to be half-brothers with Ron. That would ruin everything. Not that Harry liked Ron that way. It was just that finding your half-brother cute was not okay.
“So, are you the best archer, Ron?” Harry asked, clearly trying to stall.
“Um.” Ron’s entire face turned red. “I don’t–”
“I’d say so,” a girl with brown hair and blonde streaks with glasses said a few steps away. She had her arrow knocked back, but she wasn’t even looking at the target. “He’s the only one of us who can heal and be accurate with shooting. He’s been here the longest, too– and he might be Dad’s favorite,” she teased.
“I am not!” Ron said, who was now completely flustered.
“Oh really?” She let go of the arrow, and Harry watched it hit the circle, dead in the middle, without even looking. “Then why are you the only one who has a bow that can never break?”
“He was taking pity on me!” Ron rolled his eyes, clearly wishing he were anywhere but here. “Anyways– ignore her!” He waved off the girl. She laughed and walked away to a smaller group of campers. “Harry, just do what I do.”
Harry wanted to ask why he had received a gift like that, but he figured Ron didn’t want to talk about it. Ron knocked back his arrow, took a deep breath, and let go. The arrow flew, landing smack dead on target.
“Just like that!” Ron smiled. It reminded Harry of the sun.
“Just like that,” Harry echoed. He glanced back at Tom, who had been standing behind them in silence. He gave Harry a reassuring nod.
“Alright…” Harry struggled to pull the arrow back, and when he did, it shook violently. Harry’s eyes glanced around him, and it caught Hermione’s.
“Why is she obsessed with me?” Harry complained.
“Stop stalling!” Ron shouted. “Fire!”
The arrow flew in the opposite direction, whisking past a girl with bubblegum hair and an evil glare.
“Watch it!” she snapped.
“Sorry!” Harry shouted back, clearly embarrassed. “Should I try again?”
“No,” Tom and Ron said in unison.
Harry huffed, slightly disappointed, but relieved he didn’t possess archery skills. He guessed it meant Apollo wasn’t his father. Thank the gods.
“What next?” Harry looked at his friends, who were still stunned at how horrible he was with a bow and arrow.
By dinner, Harry was exhausted. What was the point of climbing walls when Harry never planned on doing so?! He found himself devouring his meal— the hunger from being so active all day caught up with him.
“Come on.” Tom stood up with his plate, which still had food on it. He put some on Harry’s plate, confusing him completely.
Harry frowned. “Come on, what?”
“Burnt offerings.” Blaise— the boy Harry hadn’t known the name of until a few hours ago— said. “To the Gods.”
“You’re joking.” Harry deadpanned.
“He’s not,” said Tom.
Harry followed the Hermes cabin to the fire in the middle and watched as campers scraped their food into it, saying a God's name before walking away.
Harry watched Tom, Blaise, and Theo do the same, except for saying a god’s name. Harry realized was because they were all unclaimed.
Harry sighed and did the same thing. Please. Please notice me.
The bonfire was comforting. Harry sat next to Ron, his smile bright and his contagious laugh practically infectious. He saw Tom on the other side, distant from everyone else, aside from Blaise and Theo. The three of them were whispering about something that clearly looked important, considering they all had deep frowns.
And then Ron started singing. He and his siblings sang about the gods, and Harry was blown away. Ron’s voice had always been captivating to Harry, but now it was like a necessity.
Every time Harry made eye contact with his friend, Ron would turn bright red and be on the verge of giggling. Harry had to look somewhere else the rest of the time so Ron wouldn’t get distracted. Once the singing was done, Harry was able to tease his friend.
“Goodnight, Harry!” Ron called while walking to his cabin with his half-siblings. The bonfire had left Harry with a smile and a warm feeling in his heart. For once, he felt normal.
He didn’t just talk to Ron either. He met a boy named Colin who was a fast talker and had a passion for photography and Marvel. Who the heck was Star-Lord? His older brother Dennis was equally as kind, but for some reason, they both seemed to nod off at random moments. The other would have to snap their fingers so they would wake up. It had taken Harry a while to realize that was normal for them.
He also talked to a girl named Cho Chang. Harry couldn’t deny how pretty she was. Her blue eyes twinkled every time she spoke, and her voice was gentle and quiet. He hoped he’d get to talk to her again.
Walking back to Cabin 11, Harry parted from Tom and the others to use the bathroom. On his way, he ran into Ginny, her pug-faced friend Pansy Parkinson, Miss Miserable, and two boys who were big and muscular, both of whose arms were crossed.
“What do you want?” Harry grumbled. They hadn’t said two words, and Harry was already irritated.
“I want you to admit you didn’t kill the minotaur. That Ron and Chiron were lying,” Pansy said fiercely.
“But I did kill the minotaur. I have the scar to prove it!” He pointed to the explosion on his forehead that had gotten whiter throughout the day. “Or are you blind?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if it was drawn on,” Pansy snided.
Harry rolled his eyes. “Right, well, if you’re just going to insult me, I’ll be leaving—“ Harry went to walk away, but Brooding Number 2 stepped in front of him. “Excuse me.”
“Get him, Goyal!” Pansy shouted.
That was Harry’s cue to run. Which he did. Harry was never a runner, but he figured from now on he was going to have to be. He jumped over logs and whisked past trees while Pansy shouted orders as if she were in battle. Harry had been surprised to learn Pansy was not an Ares kid, but a daughter of Aphrodite. She had the looks, but her temper was ruthless. Harry had known her for a day, and he was sick of her.
“Is this really necessary, Pans?” Ginny shouted while running.
“Yes!” Pansy exclaimed.
Harry groaned and found himself stopping behind Cabin 5’s table. He thought the others would be panting, like Mrs. Pug-Face, but they were in perfect shape, like Harry, who wasn’t tired at all from the running.
“You’re getting it now,” Miss Miserable snarled.
“Lovely,” Harry replied sarcastically.
The boy, whom Harry put together, was Goyal, approached Harry and grabbed him by the arm. Harry struggled; he tried pulling his arm away, but the other was freakishly strong. Ares' kid probably. As Goyal dragged him to the girls, Harry tried another option and tried shoving him away. A gust of wind whisked past Harry’s ear before his hand even came in contact with Goyal’s side.
“AHHH!” Goyal shouted while being raised into the air and practically thrown across one of the tables. Harry’s eyes went wide, and he looked down at his hand felt cold and in shock. What the heck just happened?
“Ugh!” Pansy groaned. She was clearly not happy that her friend had just been thrown and humiliated. The remaining four went to advance on Harry, so he did the only thing he could do. He pushed his hands forward as if he were moving a heavy box. It worked. The woosh sound came back, and Pansy, plus the other two, went flying as well. Ginny was the only one who remained on her two feet as she wasn’t hit by the wind.
“HA!” Harry exclaimed.
Pansy was the first to get up with the help from Ginny. Her eyes were filled with rage, and her Camp Half-Blood shirt had some leaves stuck to it. She then helped Miss Miserable up, who looked ready to curse Harry out.
“You’ll regret this,” Pansy snarled. “You understand?”
But she left with her friends who shot glares at Harry’s way. Now he was able to process what had just happened. He looked down at his hands and traced every part of them to see if there was anything different. There wasn’t. He then looked around the mess hall to see if maybe there were really strong fans, but there weren't. So, what the heck happened?
He heard footsteps crunching leaves from a short distance, and Harry walked over. He found Hermione leaning against a tree with her arms crossed, and either impressed or irritated.
“You’re supposed to be in your cabin,” Hermione said. Irritated then.
“Well.” Harry frowned. “ You’re not in your cabin.”
“Because I’ve come to tell you that you should be.” She stood up straighter. “You have no idea what just happened, do you?”
“Well– I mean– wait, you saw the whole thing?”
“Yes. And clearly, you still can’t figure out where you belong.”
“I belong in a bed,” Harry quipped. “So–”
“I want you on my team in capture the flag.”
Harry frowned. “What?”
“You heard me. Goodnight, Harry.”
Harry watched her walk back to the cabins.
He was going to be forced to play, wasn’t he?