As the Hogwarts Express chugged into King's Cross Station with all the subtlety of a fire-breathing dragon announcing lunch time, Zoe Nightshade found herself doing what she did best: calculating the best way to test someone's combat readiness while pretending to be an excited family member.
Which, when you really thought about it, was probably not covered in any normal big sister handbook.
"Prithee, shouldst we not commence with basic situational awareness?" Zoe mused, her dark eyes scanning the platform crowd like a hawk eyeing a field full of particularly suspicious mice. Two millennia of keeping people alive in situations where 'staying alive' was considered wildly optimistic had given her certain habits. "Methinks 'twould be most prudent to observe whether our young hero hath maintained his hunter instincts whilst dwelling amongst wizards who doth believe pointing wooden sticks at problems constitutes adequate combat preparation."
Atalanta, standing beside her with the kind of relaxed alertness that came from centuries of being ready to kick butt at a moment's notice, shot her a look that was equal parts fond and exasperated. Her red hair caught the afternoon light as she turned to face her friend.
"Zoe," she said with the patience of someone who'd had this exact conversation roughly seven hundred times, "you know you don't have to do the whole Shakespeare thing when it's just us, right? We've been friends for literally centuries. You can use contractions. You know, like normal people do."
"Forsooth, I know not of what thou dost speak," Zoe replied with perfect dignity, which would have been more convincing if the corner of her mouth wasn't twitching like she was trying not to laugh. "Tis merely how I doth naturally converse when—"
"—when you're nervous and reverting to formal speech patterns to maintain emotional distance," Atalanta finished with the confidence of someone who'd figured out this particular quirk sometime around the Renaissance. "It's very sweet, but also completely unnecessary. Harry's family. You're allowed to be excited to see him without hiding behind Middle English."
Zoe's expression went through more changes than a traffic light having an identity crisis—surprise, indignation, resignation, and finally something that might have been gratitude if you squinted at it just right.
"Thou... thou art perhaps not entirely incorrect in thy assessment," she admitted reluctantly.
"I'm never incorrect," Atalanta grinned, flashing the kind of smile that belonged on someone who'd spent centuries perfecting the art of good-natured troublemaking. "It's one of my most charming qualities. Along with my incredible modesty and my absolutely perfect timing. Speaking of which, I was thinking we might want to test his adaptive reasoning. You know, present him with a few unexpected scenarios and see how creatively he applies all those legendary abilities of his."
"Creative applications of legendary abilities in public settings," Zoe nodded thoughtfully, her tactical mind already running through possibilities like a computer calculating missile trajectories. "Verily, that could prove most educational. Though perchance we shouldst avoid anything that might result in significant property damage or requireth extensive memory modification of Muggle witnesses."
Atalanta's face fell like a kid who'd just been told that Christmas was canceled and her birthday was being postponed indefinitely.
"Aw, come on," she whined. "You're absolutely no fun sometimes. Fine, we'll keep it to minor property damage and minimal witness trauma. But I'm totally reserving the right to improvise if the situation calls for it."
"Pray tell, when doth the situation not call for improvisation?" Zoe replied dryly, which was both a valid question and a pretty accurate assessment of how most of their training sessions evolved from 'simple skills assessment' to 'why is everything on fire and who called the fire department?'
Before Atalanta could respond with what was undoubtedly going to be a perfectly reasonable explanation of her educational philosophy—which typically involved controlled explosions and creative interpretations of the phrase 'structural damage'—the air around them suddenly changed.
It was the kind of change that made every warrior instinct they possessed sit up and pay attention like dogs hearing the word 'walk.' The subtle shift in air pressure that meant someone powerful was approaching. The barely perceptible increase in ambient magical energy that suggested the someone in question was armed, dangerous, and trying very hard not to be noticed.
Both Huntresses immediately shifted into defensive positions that looked completely casual to anyone watching but would have allowed them to draw weapons and engage multiple targets faster than most people could say 'Oh, that's not good.'
Their enhanced senses swept the area, cataloging potential threats, escape routes, and anything within reach that could be weaponized if things went sideways quickly. Which, in their experience, they usually did.
"Well, well," a familiar voice said from directly behind them, carrying just enough amused approval to let them know their reaction had been observed and found professionally satisfactory. "I see you two haven't lost your edge during peacetime."
Both women spun around in perfect synchronization—a move they'd perfected sometime around the fall of Rome and had been showing off with ever since—to find themselves facing someone who managed to make jeans and a leather jacket look like battle armor designed by a particularly stylish war goddess.
Brunhilde stood there with the kind of casual confidence that belonged to someone who could probably end a small war before lunch and still have time for a manicure. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a practical braid that somehow looked both effortlessly stylish and combat-ready, and her blue eyes held the sharp intelligence of someone who'd been calculating kill-to-death ratios since before the invention of mathematics.
"Brunhilde!" Atalanta said with obvious pleasure, her entire posture relaxing into genuine warmth. "What brings Odin's favorite Valkyrie to King's Cross on a Tuesday afternoon? Please tell me it's not because the All-Father's decided to take a personal interest in British magical transportation infrastructure."
Brunhilde laughed, and the sound managed to be both genuinely delighted and faintly threatening—like music played on very sharp instruments by someone who really knew how to use them.
"Not infrastructure, no," she said with obvious amusement. "Though I have to admit, your magical transportation systems are surprisingly efficient for something designed by people who think the optimal solution to most problems involves pointing sticks at them and hoping really, really hard."
"Then what—" Zoe began, then stopped as understanding dawned across her features like sunrise breaking through storm clouds. "Ah. Tis about the boy."
"The boy," Brunhilde confirmed with the kind of fond exasperation that belonged to someone who'd been assigned to watch over a particularly gifted but consistently explosive child. "The All-Father and Queen Frigga have decided that Harry's first holiday break from magical school represents an excellent opportunity for some... supplemental education."
"Supplemental education," Atalanta repeated slowly, and her tone suggested she suspected this was going to involve either very interesting training exercises or very creative interpretations of what constituted appropriate educational content. Possibly both. "And they sent you to supervise this supplemental education?"
"They sent me to participate," Brunhilde corrected with a grin that belonged in a weapons catalog rather than a friendly conversation. It was the kind of smile that made you suddenly remember that Valkyries were originally created to collect the souls of warriors who died gloriously in battle, and they were very, very good at their job. "Apparently, four months of learning to wave sticks and brew potions isn't considered adequate preparation for the kind of challenges that tend to follow legendary heroes around like devoted but potentially explosive pets."
"Ah," Zoe nodded thoughtfully, her mind already shifting into the kind of strategic planning mode that had kept her alive and effective for over two thousand years of very dangerous situations. "Methinks this doth present us with an excellent opportunity for comprehensive assessment and targeted skill development in a controlled environment."
"There you go with the 'methinks' again," Atalanta pointed out with fond exasperation, like a teacher who'd caught her favorite student making the same mistake for the hundredth time. "You literally just said you were going to try to use normal contractions like five minutes ago."
"I said thou wert perhaps not entirely incorrect in thy assessment," Zoe replied with wounded dignity. "I made no promises regarding immediate behavioral modification or linguistic adaptation protocols."
"Right," Atalanta rolled her eyes, but she was grinning. "Because admitting someone else might be right is totally the same thing as agreeing to actually do something about it. You're absolutely impossible."
"Tis one of my most endearing qualities," Zoe said primly, like someone who'd just been complimented on their excellent taste in footwear. "Along with my tactical brilliance and my superior taste in combat boots."
"Your tactical brilliance is definitely above average," Brunhilde agreed diplomatically, which was high praise coming from someone who worked for the guy who'd invented tactical brilliance. "And your boots are fantastic. But maybe we could focus on the task at hand? We've got seven whole days to work with here."
"Seven days," Atalanta mused, and you could practically see her brain start calculating training schedules that would be both comprehensive and survivable. "That should be plenty of time to run a thorough assessment and implement some targeted skill enhancement protocols."
"Assuming he hasn't picked up any bad habits that need to be corrected first," Zoe added with the voice of someone who'd seen what magical schools could do to perfectly good warriors. "Thou knowest how these academic institutions can be. All theory, no practical application. Much wand-waving, insufficient creative problem-solving under actual pressure situations."
"Actually," Brunhilde said, and her smile suggested she had access to information that was either very encouraging or very concerning, "according to my sources, he's been doing quite a lot of creative problem-solving under pressure. Something about bathroom incidents, troll diplomacy, and what Professor McGonagall described as 'an alarming tendency toward unconventional tactical solutions that somehow work despite violating every principle of magical education we hold dear.'"
The three warriors exchanged glances that contained entire conversations. The kind of looks that passed between people who'd worked together long enough to communicate complex tactical assessments through raised eyebrows and slight head tilts.
"Bathroom incidents?" Atalanta asked, perking up with the kind of interested curiosity that suggested she was already looking forward to hearing the full story and possibly taking detailed notes for future reference.
"Multiple bathroom incidents," Brunhilde confirmed with obvious pride, like a parent bragging about their kid's report card. "Along with what appears to be an innovative approach to inter-species diplomacy and several examples of tactical improvisation that apparently impressed even Professor Dumbledore himself."
"Verily, it would seem our young hero hath not been wasting his time amongst the academics," Zoe observed with satisfaction. "Tis most gratifying to learn that his natural instincts remain intact despite prolonged exposure to institutional magical education."
"Yes, we get it," Atalanta said with fond exasperation. "And before you even think about denying it, 'verily' is definitely not a normal contraction."
"I was not going to deny anything," Zoe replied with wounded dignity that wouldn't have fooled anyone who'd known her for more than five minutes. "I was merely expressing satisfaction at our honorary little brother's continued development as a legendary hero despite adverse educational circumstances."
Before she could finish her perfectly reasonable observation about Harry's educational progress, the Hogwarts Express finally pulled into the platform with a tremendous hiss of steam and the kind of organized chaos that always accompanied several hundred magical students being released into the wild for holiday adventures.
"Right," Atalanta said, her enhanced hearing already picking out familiar voices among the general commotion of teenagers, magical creatures, and what sounded like at least three different arguments about Quidditch statistics. "Time to look like normal people meeting their beloved family member, rather than three highly trained warriors preparing to conduct intensive combat assessment of a legendary hero."
"Normal people," Brunhilde repeated with obvious amusement, like someone who'd just been asked to pretend she was a houseplant. "Yes, because the three of us are absolutely famous for our normal-person impressions."
"Hey, I can be normal," Atalanta protested, checking her appearance to make sure she looked appropriately civilian and not at all like someone who could turn a subway map into an improvised weapon. "I'm excellent at normal. Watch."
She arranged her features into what was presumably meant to be a casual, non-threatening expression. The result looked like someone trying very hard not to think about all the creative ways they could turn nearby objects into improvised weapons while simultaneously calculating the best escape routes from their current position.
"That's genuinely terrifying," Brunhilde observed with professional interest, like a critic reviewing a particularly disturbing piece of performance art. "You look like you're planning something either very educational or very illegal."
"Those aren't mutually exclusive categories," Atalanta pointed out reasonably, as if this was a completely normal thing to say. "Some of the most educational experiences involve at least minor legal gray areas. It builds character."
"I maintain that the assessment protocols we discussed would be both educational and character-building," Zoe said, but she was already shifting her posture into something that looked more 'concerned family member' and less 'professional hunter evaluating potential training scenarios for maximum educational value.'
"Oh, we'll definitely implement assessment protocols," Atalanta assured her with the kind of smile that suggested their week of 'family bonding' was going to be far more interesting than anyone except Harry was expecting. "We'll just be... subtle about it."
"Subtle," Brunhilde repeated, and her tone made it crystal clear exactly how likely she thought this was, considering their track record with 'subtle' training exercises. "Right. Because the three of us are absolutely renowned for our subtle approach to educational activities."
"We can be subtle when the situation requires it," Atalanta said with wounded dignity that wouldn't have convinced anyone who'd ever witnessed her idea of a subtle training exercise. Her version of 'subtle' typically involved controlled explosions that could technically be explained as 'equipment malfunction' and property damage that fell just short of requiring structural engineers and insurance claims.
"Indeed," Zoe agreed gravely, like someone making a solemn oath before a sacred altar. "We are paragons of discretion and restraint when circumstances deem such approaches appropriate."
All three women managed to maintain perfectly serious expressions for approximately three seconds before dissolving into the kind of laughter that belonged to people who knew exactly how ridiculous they were being and found it absolutely hilarious.
Which was, naturally, exactly the moment that Harry Potter stepped off the train.
He emerged from the magical steam and chaos like a small legend in a school uniform, followed by what appeared to be a carefully organized parade of friends, magical creatures, and the kind of barely controlled mayhem that seemed to follow him everywhere like a devoted but potentially explosive pet that had learned to walk upright and carry luggage.
"There he is," Brunhilde said with obvious fondness, her voice carrying the warmth that belonged to someone who'd been watching over a beloved child from a distance and was finally getting the chance to see him up close and in person.
"Look at him," Atalanta added with pride that was both professional and deeply personal. "Four months of magical education and he still moves like a hunter. Excellent situational awareness, proper defensive positioning, and..." She paused, tilting her head slightly like a dog hearing something interesting. "Is that cloud humming?"
"That would be Aether," Zoe explained with the patient tone of someone who'd grown accustomed to explaining the various impossible things that surrounded their honorary little brother on a regular basis. "His loyal cumulus companion. Very well-trained, from what I understand. Excellent flying capabilities and apparently capable of musical expression that would put most professional musicians to shame."
"A musically gifted cloud," Brunhilde said thoughtfully, like someone adding an item to a very long and very strange shopping list. "You know, that's not even in the top ten weirdest things I've encountered in the past month. Though it's definitely making the list."
As Harry approached, clearly scanning the crowd with the kind of professional attention that made all three warriors feel a surge of parental pride mixed with professional satisfaction, Brunhilde felt that particular combination of anticipation and affection that came with preparing to see family after too long an absence.
"Right then," she said quietly, her voice carrying just enough authority to remind her companions that she was technically the senior operative in this particular mission, even if they were all technically off duty. "Seven days to turn our legendary Monkey King into an even more legendary Monkey King. Think we can manage it without causing any international incidents or diplomatic crises?"
"Where's the fun in that?" Atalanta asked with a grin that belonged on someone planning either a birthday party or a small revolution, possibly both at the same time.
"Verily," Zoe agreed with fond exasperation, like someone who'd just agreed to help organize a party that would probably end with the fire department being called. "Though perchance we might aim for incidents that can be resolved through diplomatic channels rather than military intervention and international tribunals."
"Deal," Brunhilde said, then raised her voice to call out across the crowded platform like someone who'd had plenty of practice making herself heard over the chaos of battle. "Harry! Over here!"
And as their honorary little brother's face lit up with genuine joy at seeing them—the kind of happiness that belonged to someone who'd just spotted his favorite people in a crowd of strangers—all three women felt that warm satisfaction that came with knowing they were exactly where they needed to be, doing exactly what they were meant to do.
Taking care of family.
Even if that family happened to be legendary, occasionally explosive, and apparently accompanied by a musically gifted cloud who was currently humming what sounded suspiciously like a victory march in B-flat major.
This was definitely going to be interesting.
—
As Harry spotted the three warriors standing near the platform barrier, his face broke into the kind of grin that belonged on someone who'd just discovered that Christmas had come early and brought all his favorite people with it.
"Zoe! Atalanta!" he called out, waving enthusiastically while somehow managing to maintain perfect situational awareness of the crowd around him—a skill that made all three women feel an immediate surge of professional pride mixed with sisterly affection.
*"OH, THERE THEY ARE!"* Jim's voice exploded in Harry's mind with the enthusiasm of a one-man celebration parade that had just discovered fireworks. *"Our magnificent warrior sisters and that absolutely SPECTACULAR Valkyrie who probably has the most interesting collection of combat stories in the entire Nine Realms! This is going to be WONDERFUL! I haven't had a proper conversation with professional monster-hunters in MONTHS!"*
Aether, sensing Harry's excitement, puffed up into what could only be described as his 'happy cloud' configuration—somehow managing to look both more substantial and more fluffy at the same time, like a cumulus that had just won the meteorological lottery.
"Right then," Harry said, turning back to his compartment full of friends with the kind of fond expression that suggested he was going to miss them but was also very excited about his upcoming adventures. "Time for goodbyes, I suppose."
"Try not to get into too much trouble," Hermione said with the tone of someone who knew this was a completely hopeless request but felt obligated to make it anyway. She gathered her books with the kind of efficient precision that suggested she was already mentally organizing her own holiday plans. "And by 'too much,' I mean try to keep the property damage to a minimum and avoid anything that might result in international incidents."
*"She knows us so well!"* Jim observed with obvious fondness. *"Very perceptive! Excellent tactical awareness! Though I have to point out that international incidents are often the most educational kind of incidents. They really broaden your perspective on diplomatic relations and creative conflict resolution!"*
"I'll do my best," Harry promised with the kind of sincerity that would have been more convincing if he wasn't grinning like someone who was already looking forward to whatever creative chaos his holiday training might involve.
"Send Hedwig with updates," Ron said around a mouthful of his ninth chocolate frog, which was impressive even by his standards. "I want to hear all about whatever insane training exercises they put you through. And if you learn any new combat techniques, maybe you can teach us when we get back."
"Definitely," Harry agreed, giving Ron a quick hug that somehow managed to be both affectionate and appropriately masculine for a twelve-year-old boy saying goodbye to his best friend. "Try not to let the twins blow up too much of the Burrow while I'm gone."
"No promises," Ron grinned. "Mum's already hidden all the good fireworks, but Fred and George are resourceful. They'll probably figure out how to make something explode using nothing but leftover Christmas pudding and pure determination."
*"I LIKE those boys!"* Jim announced with obvious appreciation. *"Very creative! Very explosion-positive! They understand the fundamental importance of turning ordinary household items into potential chaos generators! Your friend has excellent siblings!"*
Neville stepped forward with the kind of confidence that would have shocked anyone who'd known him at the beginning of term. Four months of friendship with legendary figures and exposure to various impossible situations had done wonders for his self-assurance.
"Have a brilliant holiday, Harry," he said with genuine warmth. "And... thank you. For everything. This term has been..." He paused, searching for words that could adequately describe the experience of discovering you could be brave when it mattered and that friendship with the legendary Monkey King was both terrifying and wonderful in equal measure.
"The best," Harry finished for him with understanding warmth. "For all of us."
They shared a quick hug that conveyed more than words could about how much their friendship had come to mean to both of them. Neville had discovered his courage, and Harry had discovered what it felt like to have friends who accepted him for exactly who he was—legendary powers, impossible cloud companion, and all.
Susan and Hannah stepped forward together, both looking slightly star-struck and tremendously fond at the same time.
"Try not to outgrow us completely," Susan said with the kind of teasing that was only half-joking. "Some of us are still working on basic defensive charms while you're off training with actual mythological warriors."
"Never going to happen," Harry assured her with complete sincerity. "Besides, you've seen what happens when I try to do normal magic without supervision. I need all the friends I can get to help me figure out which spells are supposed to work the way I make them work and which ones I'm just breaking through sheer legendary stubbornness."
*"Hey!"* Jim protested with mock indignation. *"That's not legendary stubbornness! That's advanced magical theory applied with creative enthusiasm! There's a difference! A very important difference that involves significantly more style and panache!"*
Hannah giggled at whatever expression had crossed Harry's face during Jim's internal commentary. "We'll miss you, Harry. Try to learn some techniques we can actually practice together when you get back."
"I'll make sure Zoe and Atalanta teach me some things that won't immediately result in property damage," Harry promised, which caused both girls to laugh and made him realize how much he was going to miss having friends who understood his particular brand of controlled chaos.
Finally, he turned to the Slytherin contingent, where Daphne and Tracey were watching the goodbye scene with expressions of fond amusement mixed with something that might have been wistful longing.
"Try not to accidentally start any international incidents," Daphne said with her characteristic cool smile that somehow managed to convey genuine affection. "And if you do start any international incidents, make sure they're the interesting kind that we can hear about through appropriately diplomatic channels."
"The best kind of international incidents," Tracey agreed with obvious enthusiasm. "The kind that result in excellent stories and maybe some new techniques for creative problem-solving under pressure."
*"I DEFINITELY love these girls!"* Jim reiterated with explosive approval. *"They have such advanced understanding of the educational value of controlled chaos! Your father would immediately recruit them for his Department of Advanced Diplomatic Complications and Innovative Treaty Violations!"*
Harry hugged both girls with the kind of genuine warmth that suggested he'd genuinely come to value their friendship despite the traditional house rivalries that were supposed to make such relationships complicated.
"You two have the most dangerous holiday plans out of anyone," he pointed out with obvious admiration. "International business associates and creative potion applications? I'm honestly jealous."
"Well," Daphne replied with perfect calm, "if our creative potion applications accidentally result in anything that requires magical law enforcement intervention, we'll be sure to send you detailed notes about the techniques involved."
"Educational value," Tracey added with a grin that belonged in a manual on advanced mischief-making. "Very important for your continued development as a legendary troublemaker."
After a final round of hugs, promises to write, and assurances that Hedwig would be kept busy carrying messages between various holiday adventures, Harry gathered his trunk, made sure Aether was settled comfortably in his cloud-dog configuration, and headed toward the platform barrier where three of the most dangerous women in the magical world were waiting for him with expressions of fond anticipation.
As he approached, Harry felt that familiar surge of affection mixed with excitement that came with seeing family after too long apart. Zoe and Atalanta had basically adopted him the moment they'd discovered he was Lady Artemis's son, and Brunhilde had become something like a favorite aunt—if your favorite aunt happened to be a Valkyrie with access to the collected wisdom of Asgard and a tendency to express affection through advanced combat training.
"Well, well," Atalanta said with obvious pleasure as Harry came within conversational range, her green eyes sparkling with the kind of mischief that suggested she'd been planning something interesting. "Look what four months of magical education has done to our little brother. You look..." She paused, tilting her head as she evaluated him with professional thoroughness. "Taller. More confident. And definitely more dangerous."
*"THEY NOTICED!"* Jim preened with obvious pride. *"Excellent observational skills! Very professional assessment techniques! Though I should point out that most of the 'more dangerous' part is due to my excellent influence and superior tactical advice!"*
"It's good to see you too, Atalanta," Harry said with a grin that managed to be both respectful and mildly challenging—exactly the kind of expression that belonged on someone who'd spent months learning to balance legendary abilities with teenage social dynamics. "And before you ask, yes, I've been practicing the exercises you taught me. Even the ones that made my roommates think I was having conversations with invisible people."
"Prithee, thou dost appear to be in excellent health and spirits," Zoe observed with satisfaction that was both professional and deeply personal. She stepped forward to give Harry a hug that somehow managed to be both affectionate and briefly evaluative—like someone checking for injuries while expressing sisterly fondness. "Methinks thy time amongst the academics hath not dulled thy natural instincts or thy legendary capabilities."
"There she goes again," Atalanta said with fond exasperation, but she was smiling as she watched Zoe fuss over Harry with the kind of careful attention that belonged to someone who'd been worrying about a beloved family member from a distance. "Zoe, we talked about this. Contractions. Like normal people use."
"I shall employ contractions when the situation doth warrant such casual linguistic approaches," Zoe replied with perfect dignity, though her dark eyes were sparkling with amusement. "Until such time, I shall continue to speak in a manner befitting the gravity of our familial reunion."
"She missed you," Brunhilde explained to Harry with obvious fondness, stepping forward to offer her own greeting. "Both of them have been driving me absolutely insane with questions about your training progress and whether magical school was providing adequate preparation for the kind of adventures that tend to follow legendary heroes around like devoted pets."
*"BRUNHILDE!"* Jim's voice hit frequencies that probably caused several magical creatures in the area to prick up their ears and wonder what all the excitement was about. *"Oh, this is WONDERFUL! Now we have the complete set! Huntresses of Artemis AND a Valkyrie of Odin! This is going to be the most educational Christmas holiday in the history of educational Christmas holidays! I can't wait to hear what kind of advanced training protocols they've developed!"*
"Brunhilde," Harry said with genuine warmth, accepting the Valkyrie's hug with the kind of easy affection that suggested he'd genuinely missed having her steady presence in his life. "I should have known the All-Father would send you to check up on me. How much trouble am I in for the bathroom incidents?"
"Bathroom incidents?" Brunhilde raised an eyebrow with obvious interest, like someone who'd just discovered that the entertainment portion of their day was about to begin. "Plural? The reports I received mentioned bathroom-related property damage, but they didn't specify exactly how many bathrooms were involved."
"Four," Harry admitted with the kind of cheerful honesty that suggested he wasn't particularly ashamed of his property damage statistics. "But only one of them was entirely my fault. The others involved trolls, possessed plumbing, and a incident with Peeves that probably doesn't count as my fault since he started it."
*"TECHNICALLY it was educational property modification!"* Jim interjected with wounded dignity. *"We were conducting important research into the structural integrity of magical plumbing systems under stress conditions! Very valuable scientific data was gathered! The fact that several toilets were casualties of the research process is simply the price of advancing magical knowledge!"*
"Four bathrooms," Atalanta repeated with obvious delight, like someone who'd just heard her favorite song played by a particularly talented orchestra. "And troll cooperation. And what Professor McGonagall described as 'innovative tactical solutions.' Oh, this is going to be such an interesting week."
"Indeed," Zoe nodded with satisfaction that was both impressed and slightly concerned. "Thou hast clearly been applying thy legendary abilities to novel situations with admirable creativity. Though perchance we might discuss the strategic implications of bathroom-based combat scenarios at a more appropriate venue."
"She means let's get out of here before someone overhears us talking about advanced tactical applications of bathroom destruction," Brunhilde translated with obvious amusement. "Come on, let's collect your things and head somewhere we can have a proper conversation about your educational progress without shocking any innocent bystanders."
As the small group made their way toward the main part of King's Cross Station, Harry felt that familiar warmth that came with being surrounded by people who knew exactly who he was and loved him for it—legendary powers, impossible magical artifacts, musically gifted cloud companions, and all.
"So," he said as they walked, Aether floating along beside them in a formation that looked casual but was probably providing excellent aerial reconnaissance of their surroundings, "where exactly are we going for this supplemental education I've been hearing about?"
"Well," Atalanta said with the kind of smile that suggested the answer was going to be either very exciting or very concerning, possibly both, "first we thought we'd stop by and check on Fluffy. Make sure he's settling in well to his new accommodations and see how his training is progressing."
*"FLUFFY!"* Jim exploded with joy that felt like being caught in a very happy tornado. *"Our magnificent three-headed puppy! Oh, I've missed him SO much! Has he learned any new tricks? Mastered any advanced techniques for creative landscape modification? Developed his artistic sensibilities regarding optimal tree-destruction patterns?"*
"He's doing wonderfully," Brunhilde assured them with obvious pride. "The Huntresses have been working with him on impulse control and advanced obedience training. He can now sit, stay, fetch, and only occasionally try to eat people who probably deserve it anyway."
"Verily, he hath proven to be a most receptive student," Zoe added with satisfaction. "His natural instincts for territorial defense have been refined and directed toward more constructive applications. Though I confess his enthusiasm for greeting exercises doth still require some... moderation."
"He gets excited when he sees people he likes," Atalanta explained to Harry with fond exasperation. "All three heads want to say hello at once, and sometimes he forgets that not everyone can survive being enthusiastically licked by a dog the size of a small building."
"I've missed him too," Harry said with genuine warmth, because Fluffy really was an excellent dog once you got past the whole 'three heads full of teeth the size of dinner plates' thing. "Is he still working on his artistic tree arrangements?"
"Oh yes," Brunhilde nodded with obvious pride. "He's developed quite an advanced aesthetic sense. His latest installation involved seventeen oak trees, a small hill, and what can only be described as a water feature of unprecedented creativity. The local Druids have declared it a masterpiece of environmental art."
*"ARTISTIC TREE DESTRUCTION!"* Jim practically sang with appreciation. *"Oh, I can't WAIT to see his latest work! Very few creatures truly understand the aesthetic possibilities of controlled arboreal modification! Fluffy is clearly an artist of exceptional vision and unlimited potential!"*
"And after visiting Fluffy?" Harry asked, though he suspected he already knew the answer based on the expressions on all three women's faces—the kind of looks that belonged to people planning something educational, exciting, and probably mildly illegal.
"Camp Half-Blood," all three women said in unison, with the kind of synchronized timing that came from having planned this conversation in advance.
"Seven days of intensive training," Atalanta continued with obvious relish. "Combat assessment, skill enhancement, tactical development, and probably some light adventuring if anything interesting tries to attack the camp while we're there."
"Which, knowing thy legendary status and thy remarkable talent for attracting unusual circumstances," Zoe added with fond exasperation, "is statistically quite likely to occur."
"Oh, definitely," Brunhilde agreed with the confidence of someone who'd been watching Harry's life from a distance and had noticed certain patterns. "Adventure follows you around like a devoted pet, Harry. We might as well make sure you're properly prepared for whatever it decides to throw at you next."
As they walked through the bustling station, past families dragging oversized luggage and children running in circles while their parents tried to maintain some semblance of holiday order, Harry couldn't help but grin with anticipation.
*"This is going to be SPECTACULAR!"* Jim announced with explosive enthusiasm. *"Professional monster-hunters! Advanced combat training! Creative problem-solving workshops! Possibly some educational explosions! And quality time with Fluffy! This is definitely going to be better than spending the holidays sitting around reading textbooks and pretending to be a normal student!"*
Aether made a sound that might have been agreement, accompanied by a gentle breeze that smelled like adventure and winter air and the promise of excellent flying weather. The loyal cloud had clearly picked up on everyone's excitement and was radiating contentment mixed with anticipation.
"You know what?" Harry said, looking around at his three favorite warriors and feeling that familiar surge of gratitude mixed with excitement that came with having the absolute best possible family—even if they were technically a collection of immortal mythological figures who'd decided to adopt him, "I think this is going to be the best Christmas holiday ever."
"Oh, definitely," Atalanta agreed with a grin that belonged on someone planning either a birthday party or a small revolution. "Though knowing us, it'll probably also be the most chaotic, educational, and potentially dangerous Christmas holiday ever."
"Verily," Zoe nodded with fond resignation. "Though perchance we might endeavor to keep the chaos to manageable levels and the danger to educational parameters."
"Where's the fun in that?" Brunhilde asked with obvious amusement, echoing Atalanta's earlier sentiment.
And as they headed toward whatever transportation method three immortal warriors used when they needed to travel with a legendary twelve-year-old, his loyal cloud companion, and enough concealed weaponry to outfit a small army, Harry felt that perfect combination of excitement and contentment that came with knowing he was exactly where he belonged.
After all, what was the point of being the legendary Monkey King if you couldn't have legendary adventures with your legendary family?
*"EXACTLY!"* Jim agreed with explosive joy. *"Now let's go see Fluffy and then show Camp Half-Blood what the legendary Monkey King can accomplish with proper training and superior tactical advice! This is going to be EPIC!"*
And somehow, Harry suspected it was going to be even better than that.
---
Hey fellow fanfic enthusiasts!
I hope you're enjoying the fanfiction so far! I'd love to hear your thoughts on it. Whether you loved it, hated it, or have some constructive criticism, your feedback is super important to me. Feel free to drop a comment or send me a message with your thoughts. Can't wait to hear from you!
If you're passionate about fanfiction and love discussing stories, characters, and plot twists, then you're in the right place! I've created a Discord (HHHwRsB6wd) server dedicated to diving deep into the world of fanfiction, especially my own stories. Whether you're a reader, a writer, or just someone who enjoys a good tale, I welcome you to join us for lively discussions, feedback sessions, and maybe even some sneak peeks into upcoming chapters, along with artwork related to the stories. Let's nerd out together over our favorite fandoms and explore the endless possibilities of storytelling!
Can't wait to see you there