The next morning, the Black Mansion felt livelier than usual. The scent of breakfast wafted from the kitchen, and Teddy's laughter echoed through the hall as he darted toward the front door.
Harry had barely finished his morning tea when Teddy came running back, dragging a very bewildered Calyssa by the hand.
"Uncle Harry! She's awake! Come see!" Teddy said, grinning ear to ear. "She's looking around like she's never seen a spoon before!"
Harry chuckled softly. "Give her time, Teddy. The world is new to her."
Calyssa stood in the middle of the living room, wide-eyed and fascinated. The morning light poured through the enchanted windows, reflecting off the polished wooden floors. She turned slowly, her gaze falling on everything as if it were part of some alien landscape.
Her attention caught on the television mounted to the wall. The screen flashed with colors, showing a weather forecast. Calyssa jumped back with a startled gasp.
"It moves!" she exclaimed. "And speaks! There are people inside that box!"
Andromeda, who had just entered carrying a tray of toast, almost dropped it. "Oh, Merlin's beard," she muttered. "Harry, where exactly did you find this woman?"
Harry smiled faintly. "Long story. Let's just say… she's been out of touch for a while."
Andromeda blinked. "You're joking."
He shook his head. "I wish I was."
By midday, Andromeda had discovered that Calyssa was, without exaggeration, the most curious person she had ever met.
"Why do these lights glow without fire?" Calyssa asked, pointing to the electric bulbs in the ceiling.
"Electricity," Andromeda said patiently for the third time.
"Why does the water flow without anyone calling a nymph?"
"Pipes and pressure," Andromeda explained, rubbing her temples.
"And what are these soft white sticks everyone is so secretive about?"
Andromeda blinked, realizing Calyssa was holding up a toothbrush like it was a wand. "Oh, heavens. That's not secret, dear, that's for cleaning your teeth."
Calyssa frowned, studying it as though it might explode. "It's very small for such an important task."
Teddy giggled from the couch. "Aunt 'Lyssa, you're funny."
She tilted her head. "Aunt…?"
Harry, sitting nearby, smiled warmly. "He gives nicknames to people he likes. Take it as a compliment."
Calyssa's expression softened. "Then I shall treasure it."
Later that evening, Andromeda sat with Harry in the kitchen, a mug of tea steaming between them. Calyssa's laughter could still be heard faintly from the next room, where Teddy was proudly showing her how to use crayons.
Andromeda sighed. "You do realize how bizarre this is, don't you? The woman doesn't even know how to dress herself properly. She's like a child one moment and a scholar the next."
Harry nodded, his tone quiet. "She's learning. The world she remembers is gone, Andromeda. Everything here must feel like magic to her."
Andromeda's eyes narrowed slightly. "If I didn't know better, I'd say she's under some kind of memory charm. Either that, or she's been imprisoned her whole life."
Harry's eyes darkened for a brief moment. "The latter," he said softly. "For longer than we can imagine."
Andromeda looked at him in stunned silence, then sighed again. "Well, that explains the endless questions." She glanced toward the doorway, where Calyssa's curious voice floated in:
"Teddy! What is this 'remote' thing? Does it control thunder or the glowing box?"
Andromeda groaned. "I'm going to need patience potions."
Harry laughed quietly. "And she's going to need time."
Andromeda smiled faintly. "She's lucky you brought her here, Harry. If anyone can teach her how to live again, it's you."
Harry's eyes softened as he looked toward the hall where Calyssa's laughter rang out again. "No," he said quietly. "I didn't bring her here to teach her. I brought her here so she could finally be free."
Life at Black Mansion rarely stayed quiet for long. Between visiting gods, demigods, wizards, and the occasional mythical creature, Andromeda had long stopped questioning why strangers appeared at her doorstep. So when a new guest named Calyssa suddenly began living there, she didn't even flinch.
To everyone else, Calyssa was just another woman Harry had taken under his protection—a mysterious, polite, and oddly innocent newcomer. But to Aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty, the situation was anything but harmless.
Aphrodite noticed it the moment she visited the mansion again. Calyssa was everywhere Harry went—pouring tea beside him, helping Teddy with lessons, sitting beside him in the garden while he explained how plants differed from those she once knew.
Her laughter carried like music. Her gaze lingered a little too long.
And Aphrodite felt it—the tender, glowing warmth of affection that wasn't yet love, but dangerously close.
The goddess of love crossed her arms, her rose-gold eyes narrowing as she observed them from across the sitting room.
"Interesting," she murmured, voice dripping with sugar and steel.
Apollo, lounging on the sofa nearby, raised a brow. "What's interesting? The tea? Or the fact that Harry seems to attract more women than Ares does?"
Aphrodite shot him a glare. "Don't be ridiculous. That girl—Calyssa. There's something about her."
Apollo smirked. "You mean besides the way she stares at Harry like he hung the stars himself?"
Aphrodite's jaw tightened. "Exactly."
Later that evening, after the gods had gone, Aphrodite lingered in the mortal realm, invisible to all but those she wished. She stood in the garden, watching through the open window as Harry and Calyssa talked. The woman was smiling—too easily, too brightly.
"She has affection for him," Aphrodite muttered to herself. "And it's not the innocent kind."
Her pride prickled. Love was her domain, and no one—no one—should play its game under her nose without her knowing the full story.
If one of the Olympian goddesses had Harry's affection, she might have tolerated it. Perhaps even approved, if it had been Artemis's soft curiosity or Athena's guarded intellect. But this woman? This unknown mortal—or whatever she was—trying to win the attention of someone Aphrodite herself couldn't charm?
That was unacceptable.
The next day, Aphrodite visited Hestia at the hearth of Olympus.
"She's just a mortal girl, isn't she?" Aphrodite asked, trying to sound casual.
Hestia looked up from her fire, her expression calm and wise. "No one living under Harry Potter's roof is ever just a mortal girl."
Aphrodite frowned. "You know something."
Hestia smiled faintly. "I know that jealousy doesn't suit you, Aphrodite. If the girl has a story, it's Harry's to share."
But the goddess of love wasn't satisfied with riddles.
That night, she returned to the mortal world. When Calyssa went out to the garden to water the flowers, a soft pink mist filled the air.
Aphrodite's voice, unseen but unmistakable, whispered through the petals:
"Who are you, really, little dove? You wear mortal skin, but your heart beats with something older… older than the gods themselves."
Calyssa froze, eyes darting around. "Who's there?"
No answer came, only the faint scent of roses fading into the night.
She shivered. Somewhere deep inside, she knew she'd just been noticed.
The morning sun had barely risen above the horizon when Calypso approached Harry in the study, her expression tense and uncertain. Her usual grace was replaced by unease, and even the lightness in her voice was gone.
"Harry," she began quietly, "something… strange happened last night."
Harry looked up from the papers spread across his desk, immediately sensing the seriousness in her tone. "What is it?"
"I heard a voice," she said, her eyes distant. "Soft, like the wind whispering through the sea. It asked me who I was… said something about my heart being older than the gods."
Harry's expression hardened slightly. "And you didn't see anyone?"
She shook her head. "No. But I could feel her presence — warm, proud, beautiful, and dangerous."
That description alone told him everything.
Harry sighed, standing up and walking toward the window. "That wasn't a mortal voice, Calypso. That was one of the Olympians. And if someone found you once, they might come again."
Calypso's hands clenched together nervously. "So, what do we do?"
He turned back to her, calm but firm. "We make sure they never find you again."
That evening, Harry retreated into the Black Mansion's forge, a vast underground chamber of glowing runes, silver veins, and humming enchantments. The forge was beautifully designed — a mixture of wizarding craftsmanship and runic design learned from ancient scrolls.
Calypso followed him in, curious. The warm light from the molten crucible bathed the chamber in orange and gold.
Harry picked up a small piece of silvery metal from the workbench — celestial silver mixed with moonstone dust. "I'm going to make something for you," he said. "Something that will hide what you truly are."
Calypso tilted her head. "Hide me? Like a glamour?"
"More than that," Harry explained, already sketching sigils in the air with his wand. "This will make your divine aura vanish completely. To anyone else — god, monster, or mortal — you'll just seem like an ordinary human woman."
She frowned softly. "Won't that mean I'll lose a part of myself?"
Harry looked up at her, eyes kind but resolute. "No. You'll still be you. But it'll keep you safe, Calypso. The gods have long memories and short tempers — and I don't want them anywhere near you."
Calypso watched him work. His hands were steady and sure, every motion deliberate. He melted the metal with a whisper, poured it into a floating mold shaped like a teardrop, then began engraving runes along the edges — protective sigils of concealment and identity.
She stood beside him in silence, the rhythmic sound of hammering echoing in the forge.
"You do this for everyone who stays here?" she asked softly.
Harry smiled faintly, not looking up. "Only for those who need protecting."
Hours later, he held up the finished pendant — a teardrop-shaped crystal encased in silver, glowing faintly with warmth. The chain shimmered like moonlight, delicate yet strong.
Calypso stared at it, her breath catching. "It's beautiful," she whispered. "It feels… alive."
"It will be bound to you," Harry said, stepping closer. "As long as you wear it, no one will see you as divine. Not even Zeus himself will sense you."
He reached behind her neck and fastened the chain gently. The crystal pulsed once, then settled, glowing faintly against her skin.
Calypso lifted her hand, fingers brushing the pendant. "I… don't know what to say."
"You don't have to," Harry replied softly. "Just promise me you'll never take it off."
She looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with something deep and unspoken. "This is the first jewelry I've ever been given," she said quietly. "Back on the island, I only had flowers. They wilted by nightfall. But this…"
She paused, her gaze lingering on him. "This will last as long as I do, won't it?"
Harry met her eyes, the faintest smile playing at his lips. "Longer, if I did it right."
For a long moment, they stood in silence — the forge's glow casting golden light across their faces.
Calypso lowered her gaze, her voice barely a whisper. "You're unlike any man I've met, Harry Potter. You don't see me as a prize to claim or a curse to pity. You just… see me."
Harry turned back to his tools, pretending not to notice the warmth rising in his chest. "Then let's keep it that way," he said softly.
But as Calypso touched the pendant again, feeling the lingering magic of his hands upon it, she couldn't help the quiet truth forming in her heart —
she was no longer falling for her savior.
she was falling for Harry.
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