Athena was quite worried as she was standing outside the Black Mansion, because with her stood Hera, the Queen of Olympus. Every Olympian knew that Hera had a strange personality—paranoid, proud, and full of herself. Athena had no idea what would happen when Harry met her. She also knew Harry had a proud streak of his own; he didn't give respect unless it was earned. That was what worried her most.
Athena rang the calling bell outside the mansion, and a shimmering projection appeared above the gate—Andromeda's face.
"Hey, Athena, why are you ringing the bell?" Andromeda asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I have a guest with me," Athena replied quickly, trying to keep her voice neutral. "She's not added to the ward."
Andromeda disappeared from the screen. A moment later, her face returned, her expression slightly more cautious.
"Come on in," Andromeda said. "I've added her magical signature to the ward stones."
The gate opened automatically with a heavy creak, the runes carved into the iron glowing faintly as they accepted Hera's presence.
The iron gate closed behind them, and Hera's sharp eyes immediately swept across the Black Mansion grounds. She took in the immaculately kept garden, the wards thrumming faintly in the air, and the elegant manor house rising in front of her. Hera's lips curled slightly.
"So this is where the mortal lives?" she muttered, half to herself, half to Athena. "I expected something… smaller."
Athena gave a careful nod, keeping her expression calm. "Harry has resources. He puts them to use well."
Inside the doorway, Andromeda Tonks stood waiting, her posture polite but wary. She gave Athena a warm smile, then turned her eyes on Hera. The Queen of Olympus was tall and regal even in mortal guise, her presence filling the hall like cold fire.
"And you must be Hera," Andromeda said evenly. "Welcome to the Black Mansion. Harry isn't home—he's at university—but you're free to come in."
Before Hera could respond, a small voice rang out.
"Nanaaaa!"
Teddy came barreling down the hallway, his little legs carrying him as fast as they could. His hair flickered from turquoise to jet-black in excitement. He grabbed Andromeda's leg and then peeked out at the strangers. His bright metamorphmagus eyes fixed on Hera, studying her curiously.
Athena crouched slightly. "Teddy, this is Hera. She's… an important friend of ours."
Teddy tilted his head, then grinned mischievously. "You look grumpy," he said with childlike bluntness.
Hera blinked in surprise—very few dared speak to her like that. Andromeda stifled a laugh, while Athena coughed into her hand to cover her smile.
"Children," Hera said, composing herself, "often see what others do not."
Teddy, unconcerned with titles or presence, darted closer and tugged at Hera's hand. "Come play! Nana made cookies. You want?"
For the first time in centuries, Hera felt genuinely at a loss. She glanced at Athena, who raised an eyebrow as if to say Well?. With regal stiffness, Hera allowed the boy to pull her further inside.
Hera sat on the couch, Teddy climbing up beside her with a toy Occamy in hand. The queen of Olympus, who had been stewing in suspicion and paranoia, suddenly found herself in the most unexpected situation: cornered not by conspiracies, but by a two-year-old who wanted to share cookies and magical toys.
Andromeda set the porcelain tray on the low table, the steam from the tea curling upward like a faint ward. She smiled gently at Hera, who still sat stiff and regal in her chair.
"So," Andromeda said carefully, "what is it exactly that the Queen of Olympus wants with us?"
Hera raised her chin slightly, her golden eyes narrowing. "I want nothing from you," she replied coolly. "But I have discovered that several Olympian goddesses—Athena, Artemis, Aphrodite, even Hestia—spend a great deal of time in this house. That… intrigues me. I came to see for myself."
Andromeda blinked. "So you came here to investigate?"
"Yes," Hera admitted, her tone blunt. "And I confess—I know very little of the mortal realm. I seldom leave my palace. Curiosity drew me here, to see what has these goddesses so entangled."
There was a pause. Teddy tugged on Hera's sleeve, his toy Occamy clutched in one hand. "Cookie?" he asked, offering her a half-bitten chocolate biscuit.
Hera regarded it as though it were a divine relic, then gave a short, amused exhale. She took the smallest nibble. Her eyes widened. "This… this is extraordinary." She turned to Andromeda. "You made this?"
Andromeda nodded, suppressing a smile at the goddess's expression. "Yes. I did. I've learned a great deal from Hestia."
For the first time that evening, Hera's composure cracked. "Hestia? Taught you?!" She leaned forward, disbelief flashing in her eyes. "She never shares her secrets with anyone. Not with gods, not with immortals—yet she chose to teach you?"
Andromeda, a little embarrassed, shrugged. "She likes spending time here. I suppose she felt comfortable enough to share."
Hera leaned back, unsettled. There is something strange about this household, she thought. She turned her eyes back to Teddy, who had been staring intently at her.
Then, before anyone could stop him, Teddy's hair shimmered gold, his eyes turned molten, and his round little face shifted until—
"By the Fates…" Hera whispered.
Sitting beside her was a miniature version of Hera herself. The boy looked like a tiny mirror of the goddess, complete with her sharp nose and queenly bearing, though softened by baby chubbiness.
Teddy giggled, proud of his trick. "Look! Me, you!" he announced in his small voice.
Andromeda sighed, though fondly. "He's a metamorphmagus. He can change at will."
But Hera couldn't look away. The sight rattled her to her very core. "He… he looks like he could be my own daughter," she murmured, half to herself.
The Queen of Olympus, for once, sat in stunned silence, a cookie still in her hand, as the boy who looked just like her leaned against her arm, humming happily.
Hera leaned back into the plush leather recliner, her eyes wide as the enormous cinematic screen lit up with golden deserts and towering pyramids. The sound system rumbled so deeply that she swore she could feel the sand blowing against her skin.
"This… this is what mortals do for fun?" she whispered, half to herself.
Teddy, sitting proudly between her and Andromeda, was munching on a bag of crisps. He nodded eagerly. "Movie! Best movie, Hera! Look—Mummy! Boom!" He threw his little arms wide to imitate an explosion on screen.
Andromeda chuckled, leaning close to Hera. "This is the fourth time he's watched The Mummy Returns. It just came out recently. He's obsessed with it."
Hera tilted her head, watching the actors race through tombs filled with curses and traps. "They speak of Egypt… pyramids… gods…" She narrowed her eyes. "Mortals made this? Their craft, their imagination—it's… remarkable."
The vending machine at the back gave a little clunk as Teddy pressed the glowing button with sticky fingers. Out tumbled another packet of crisps, which he triumphantly handed to Hera. "Here! Snack!"
Somewhat awkwardly, the Queen of Olympus accepted. She had never—never—held a crinkling bag of fried potatoes before. She sniffed it, then popped one into her mouth. Her eyes went wide again. "By the Fates… this is delicious."
Teddy giggled. "Told you!"
As the final battle with the Scorpion King played on screen, Hera found herself gripping the armrest. "This… this storytelling," she muttered, voice trembling with awe. "Their moving paintings are so alive. The sound, the drama, the tension… it is almost divine!"
From the far seat, Athena smirked knowingly. "I told you, Hera. Mortals are far cleverer than you give them credit for. I've been here before. Historical films especially. And I even learned to operate the system."
"You? Learned this contraption?" Hera asked incredulously, gesturing at the glowing projector in its little booth.
Athena lifted her chin proudly. "Of course. Computers, projectors, speakers—I know how to make it all work. Mortals call it 'technology.' Their own brand of ingenuity."
Hera looked back to the screen, watching soldiers clash with supernatural beasts. Her heart pounded in her chest, not from fear but from exhilaration. She whispered, "Perhaps Olympus needs one of these… what do you call them?"
"A movie theater," Athena supplied.
"Yes… a movie theater." Hera's lips curved into a sly, almost childlike smile. "I will have Hephaestus build one in my palace. No… in Olympus itself! All the gods will see what mortals have created. I will host… showings."
Andromeda exchanged a look with Athena, trying to hide her amusement. Teddy clapped his hands, crumbs flying everywhere. "Yes! Movie in Olympus! Movie with Hera!"
For the first time in centuries, Hera laughed freely, a rich sound that startled even herself.
The cheerful mood from the home theater vanished the moment Hera, Athena, and Andromeda stepped into the living room of the Black Mansion.
Aphrodite lounged lazily on one of the sofas, her golden hair spilling down her shoulders, a plate of sweets balanced delicately on her lap. She had raided the kitchen, a bowl of sugared almonds and enchanted pastries spread out before her. Her dress was barely a dress at all—silk straps clung in strategic places while the rest shimmered like liquid light.
Hera's lips curled downward in distaste. This is Hephaestus' wife, she thought bitterly. My son's wife—and she dares sit here like this.
Aloud, Hera's voice was cold and commanding:
"What are you doing here, Aphrodite?"
Aphrodite didn't even flinch. She took another delicate bite of pastry and arched an eyebrow.
"What I am doing here is none of your concern, Hera. The real question is: what are you doing here? This isn't Olympus. You don't usually lower yourself to visit mortals."
Hera's eyes narrowed. "Do not play games with me. I know very well what you are after. You parade yourself around here, flaunting your charms, but you are still bound to my son. You dishonor him, and now you bring your… antics… to this place?"
Aphrodite laughed, a low, sultry laugh that filled the room with heat. "Oh please, Hera. Spare me your lecture on fidelity. Everyone knows where Zeus spends his nights." Her eyes sparkled dangerously. "At least I don't pretend. And yes—let's be honest—I want Harry. He resists me, which makes him all the more interesting."
Hera's nostrils flared. "He is a mortal! He will die like all the others. You're making a fool of yourself."
Aphrodite leaned forward, her eyes locking with Hera's. "Then we'll discuss it when it happens. Until then, stay out of my way."
Andromeda, sensing where this was heading, quickly scooped Teddy into her arms.
"Come, sweetheart," she said softly. "Let's go play upstairs."
"Phoeny?" Teddy asked hopefully, but when Andromeda shook her head, he settled for burying his face against her shoulder. They slipped quietly out of the room.
Athena, however, stepped between the two goddesses, her expression sharp. "Enough! Both of you." She looked first at Hera. "This is not Olympus. Don't turn Harry's home into your battleground." Then she turned to Aphrodite. "And you—you're not helping. Your tone is disrespectful, even for you."
Aphrodite smirked, crossing her legs. "What's wrong, Athena? Jealous?"
"Do not test me." Athena's voice was steel.
Hera lifted her chin proudly. "I am Queen of Olympus. I will not be spoken to like this by my son's wayward wife."
"And yet," Aphrodite countered, her smile sharp, "you're here, in a mortal's living room, arguing about him. Perhaps you want him as much as the rest of us."
Hera's face darkened with fury. "Watch your tongue, girl—"
The tension was moments from erupting into something destructive when the front door creaked open.
Harry stepped inside, backpack slung over one shoulder, books tucked under his arm. His tie from Princeton was still loose around his neck, and his hair was windswept from the evening breeze. He paused mid-step, his emerald eyes taking in the scene before him: Hera standing stiff and regal, Athena with her arms folded in exasperation, and Aphrodite lounging like a cat ready to pounce.
He blinked slowly. "…What in Merlin's name is going on here?"
No one answered immediately. The silence was so thick you could cut it with a wand. Finally, Harry sighed, rubbing his temple.
"Right," he muttered. "I don't know what you're all fighting about, but this is my house. So unless someone's bleeding or the world's ending, sit down and explain it like civilized people—or get out."
Aphrodite smirked at Hera, clearly enjoying the mortal's unexpected boldness. Hera, however, stiffened in outrage, unused to being spoken to in such a way. Athena pinched the bridge of her nose.
Harry dropped his bag by the sofa and added, with a pointed look at Hera and Aphrodite both:
"And for the love of sanity, no divine catfights in my living room. Teddy lives here."
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