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Chapter Text

Valerian James Potter had just finished his fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry when he had to make the biggest decision in his life.

What kind of seeds to get for his aunt’s garden.

His Aunt Petunia sent him onto the store as soon as he was off the train home from school, with strict instructions to pick the kind of flower that would win her the neighbourhood “Best Yard Competition”. He was having a very difficult time deciding between the purple irises, the mostly white cymbidiums, the pink orchids, and the pink/green/white mix of the alstroemeria. (1) Last year, he had planted petunias and carnations, upon the orders of his aunt, but she had only won second place to the Polkiss’, who got a round trip for their family to Paris for a week. When you compare that to the Tops Pizza gift card Petunia received, you could understand why she wanted to win so badly.

Valerian knew that he has been standing there for at least five minutes now, and also knew that if he didn’t hurry up he wouldn’t get supper for the next two nights, which wasn’t much of an improvement of what he regularly got anyway. Mostly it was just a piece of bread with a slice of cheese and a glass of stale water, but when he got lucky it was some soup with actual meat chunks in it, instead of just little bits of fat.

He still had yet to pick the type of flowers he was going to plant, because there was no way that Petunia would ever get her hands dirty doing something that she thought was beneath her. Valerian put the purple iris seeds back. Even though he still has three types of seeds, and Petunia wanted one, Valerian knew that in order for his aunt to win the competition this year, she would have to have complementary flowers interwoven with one another.

When Valerian went to the till to pay, the cashier started up a seemingly long-since started conversation. “I see you found our new inventory for the season Rian.” He put the three seed packets onto the counter and nodded.

“Yeah, Petunia wants me to win the garden competition this year for her. Again.” Charlotte, the cashier, tsked and shook her head. She has been hearing about Petunia Dursley for four years, since the first time the woman made the then ten year old boy come in without her accompanying him.

“Well, at least you’re doing something you love?” Charlotte tried to lighten the mood, and Valerian, better known as Rian to his friends, laughed and put the money up on the counter for the purchase. Charlotte shoved the money back, “Oh no, this one’s on the house, consider it an early birthday gift.”

“...My birthday isn’t until the end of the month.” He stated dryly.

“I know.” She grinned, then started shooing him towards the door, “Go on, get out of here Valerian!” Rian laughed and waved as he went to the exit back towards his doom - I mean his home until he goes back to school.

When Rian got into his aunt’s car, she was already halfway through telling him off. “You’re lucky your uncle isn’t here boy, if he was he would give you the beating of a lifetime for wasting my time for that long. Any longer and I would have left you here to rot. And you can be sure that I will be telling him about this when he comes home from taking Duddy out to get the pizza.” The rest of the car ride back to the house was spent in silence, as Petunia couldn’t stand the sound of her nephew’s voice, and Rian couldn’t stand being belittled for every single thing he said.

Vernon’s company issued car for Grunnings was already parked in the driveway when Petunia and Rian got to the house, and you could hear the football (soccer) game going on in the living room as if the telly was in the yard. “Put your trunk under the stairs then plant those flowers boy. Those flowers need to look 110% better than they do in the pictures.” Rian did as he was asked without comment, as to not give Petunia a reason to not let him have food that night.

After carefully putting his belongings away, Valerian began to head back down the hallway towards the front door, only to be halted in his short journey by Dudley coming out of the living room. Dudley stopped once he seen Rian in front of him. “Can I help you Big D? I need to get these seeds planted.”

“You can’t talk to me like that freak! My gang and I’ll beat your runty ass for that.” Dudley looked proud of himself for threatening Rian, but Rian brushed him off and started edging around his much bigger cousin to get to the door. Dudley looked shocked that he ignored him, and his face turned to vicious satisfaction as he shouted, “Mum, Dad, the freak’s not doing what you asked him to!”

Valerian’s face turned from confused to horrified as he heard Dudley finishing what he was saying, followed by the unmistakable heavy footfalls of his Uncle Vernon coming from the living room.

Rian tried to move to the door faster, but Dudley moved to block his way so that he would be trapped with nowhere to go. The living room door burst open, and Vernon’s purple face of rage came into view. Contrary to Vernon, Valerian was stark white in fear for what was about to come. Vernon grabbed Rian by the collar of his shirt and dragged him down to the basement so that it was harder for the neighbours to hear what exactly was going on in the house.

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It was many hours later when Rian woke up sore and bleeding on the concrete floor of the basement, with quite possibly a few broken bones. He had had bad beatings before, but something must have tipped Vernon over the edge this time, as the pain Rian was in was worse than he ever remembered it being. He looked down, and gagged when he caught sight of his damaged form. His torso was black and blue, and he was pretty sure he had at least one broken rib, if not more with the cracked ones. His legs were just, if not worse, than his torso. His legs had blood all around them, and it looked like his left knee was at least three times as big and purple as the other one. His head fell back onto the concrete floor underneath of him, and he winced once again as the pain re-ignited from the back of his skull. He started to cry, not only out of pain, but out of frustration as well at the fact that he knew that nobody was coming to save him from his personal hell.

Rian began to think back to the previous events that happened in the past year that he found out about. He had learned that Professor Dumbledore, the man that was supposed to look after him as his magical guardian, had ruined his life by telling his parents a false prophecy, and advocating that his now dead godfather needed to go to Azkaban for betraying his parents, when he was the one to supervise the switching of the Secret Keeper for his childhood home. Rian was pretty sure that Dumbledore wasn’t even supposed to be his magical guardian. At some points during the school year, Valerian wasn’t sure his friends were 100 percent either in all the scheming, but they had proven at the end of the year that they would go through any length to make sure Valerian would succeed in anything, even taking veritaserum to prove they had nothing to do with the old manipulative coot that thought himself a headmaster.

Rian began whimpering quietly in pain, and quietly started saying under his breath, “Please, please, somebody, please, please…” and trailed off. He knew it was hopeless to beg, nobody even knew he was down here besides the monsters upstairs living the perfect suburban life.

Rian slowly dropped off into unconsciousness once again, whether from bleeding out or otherwise, he didn’t quite know. He was haunted by terrorizing dreams while he slept, each one worse than the last, until an unknown figure appeared out of the light that was slowly filling his unconscious state.

“It’s alright dear one,” said the magnificent, somehow familiar figure, “No one shall hurt you now. I shall protect you my sweet.” The figure faded away, but somehow the light only got brighter until it was all consuming. Valerian was lost in the endless sea of the welcoming white light.

Chapter Text

Demeter looked down at her battered child on the infirmary bed at Camp Half-Blood and sighed. She couldn’t believe that she had failed one of her children, again. She had trusted the father of her child to look after him until such a time where he could either take their child to Camp, or when a satyr assigned to him could guide him there. It wasn’t very often any of the gods sired children in the United Kingdom, but every few years or so a demigod would appear. Most of the demigods that would show up in the Wizarding World were protected by the magical scent others omitted rather than the scent of demigods they naturally gave off. It also helped that “mythological” creatures tended to spawn in the United States seeing as how that’s where the gods had made their home for the past few centuries.

She glanced at the satyr that stood near the door of the infirmary, Neville Longbottom, more commonly known as Neophytos around camp. He was the one who helped her retrieve Valerian from his “uncle’s” basement. When he got Valerian to camp, he was covered in tears, snot, and blood, and could barely make a comprehensible sentence.

Demeter looked back to her child, and spoke to Neophytos without looking at him. “Thank you, satyr.” He stood starstruck, not moving an inch while he was lost in thought.

He shook himself back into reality. “I don’t deserve any thanks, my lady Demeter. I couldn’t help him in time. I wasn’t there for him.” Then he spoke to himself angrily, “Why wasn’t I there for him?”

“On the contrary satyr. You were there for him when it mattered the most. You may not have been there all his life, but you gave him the chance to find his true family, and a true future for himself.” She knew that was what the satyr needed to hear. She also knew that she should visit her other children at camp, but seeing Valerian laying on the bed breathing harshly and unevenly made her stay. At least until he woke up.

Well, that’s what she wanted to do anyway, but without her monitoring the harvests around the world, no food was growing the way it should. She stood up. “Watch him until I get one of my children to come help, alright?” Neophytos nodded, but was still a bit disappointed that the goddess didn’t trust him to look after his charge and her son. It was to be expected though, even if she said she didn’t blame him.

When the goddess left the infirmary, Neophytos - though only known by Neville to the beaten boy on the bed - took a seat beside the bed and took his hand gently. “Rian,” he started, “Please, please forgive me. I should have been there sooner. I shouldn't have let you go back. I should’ve been a better friend, instead of a wimpy coward.” His head was bowed, so he wasn’t able to see the boy’s eyes open, and look at him weakly.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Came the unexpected whispered response. Neophytos’ head shot up, tear tracks still prominent on his face.

“...Rian? You’re really awake? Oh thank Pan.” He tried not to cry harder, but he was only half successful. “Will? Will! Rian is awake! Oh Pan I am so so glad you are awake Rian. I don’t know what I would do if you didn’t wake up.” Valerian was looking around the room lethargically. His whole body was in pain, and he had no idea where he was. It looked to him like a third world infirmary, or something you would see in the zombie apocalypse.

“Where…?” Rian couldn’t say anything else, as his throat was so dry that he immediately went into a deep coughing fit. That was when two new boys came rushing in. One had golden blond hair and baby blue eyes, and he had a doctor’s lab coat on and a stethoscope around his neck. Subconsciously, Rian realized that he looked a bit too young to be a doctor. The other boy that followed the first had black, shaggy hair, and one couldn’t simply name a colour for his eyes, as they changed colours as often as the sea. (Or, at least, that’s how people have described his eyes to him. He thought that they were blue.)

The boy playing dress-up as a doctor took a small glass of what looked like a golden milkshake and offered it to him with a straw to drink. “Here, this will make you feel better. Just don’t try talking until you’ve finished, okay? I wouldn’t want to make your condition any worse.” He then turned to Neophytos, “Did he just wake up?” He got a nod in answer. “Okay, call me back when he has finished the nectar. It should be just enough that it will heal him, but not incinerate him.” He grabbed the other boy's arm then, as he seemed frozen in place, and dragged him into the main room.

Rian lay in silence on his bed, with Neville sitting beside him holding a small glass of golden liquid, with the straw gently resting against Rian’s lips till he accepted it on his own. He sipped as fast as Neville would let him, which wasn’t very fast. He did not want to stop drinking the amazing liquid, it tasted like his favourite treacle tart in the Great Hall that the house elves would make especially for him.

Once he was finished with all of the wonderfully-tasting liquid, he tried speaking again, this time with much more success. “Where are we Neville? Why are we here? Who were those people? What… what happened to your legs?”

Neville waited till he seemed to be done asking questions, and answered, “We are at a place called Camp Half-Blood Rian. I was able to bring you here after what your ‘relatives’ did with a little help from your mom. Those people were Will Solace, who was the blond, teenage doctor, and the dark-haired one’s name is Percy Jackson, who is probably here cause he couldn’t heal something on his own, or Will’s boyfriend is sulking again. And as for my legs… I’m sort of not completely human Ry. I’m what’s called a satyr, and my name isn’t actually Neville. It’s Neophytos, call me Neo, or continue to call me Neville, whatever makes you more comfortable. I know it’s a lot to take in, so I’ll give you a minute while I talk to Will, is that okay?” Valerian nodded, more than a bit shocked, and didn’t pay Neville - Neophytos - any attention as he left the room.

Valerian stared down at his hands by his sides, clenching the sheets so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He didn’t know what to think, what to feel. His whole life felt like a lie. And what did Nevi- Neo mean about having help from his mother? His mother was dead, everybody knew that. If they weren’t dead why didn’t they come get me when I went to the Dursley’s? He closed his eyes tightly, and tears leaked out fast, harsh, and unwillingly.

He didn’t realize anybody had come back into the room until he was lifted slightly and wrapped in a warm embrace. His breath turned laboured, and he turned into the person who was holding him. The harsh sobs wracked his body uncontrollably and they rubbed his back lightly and squeezed him a little tighter, all the while muttering soothingly into his ear. When he started to calm down, he realized what he was doing, and shot away like he had been electrocuted.

He immediately regretted it. His whole body lit on fire once again, but not as badly as in the basement. His chest was considerably better, and his leg felt oddly heavy. That didn’t distract him from the new figure, however. She had brown hair, brown eyes, and was wearing a toga decorated with a few flowers. Her eyes were kind, but Valerian wasn’t sure if he was able to trust the stranger just yet. “Who… who are you? What are you doing here?! Get out!” He started to panic, his breath becoming laboured once again, and his voice raising with every word.

The two teenage boys and satyr came running in, stopping short at the sight before them. After all, they all assumed Demeter would leave once he woke up, but she was sitting on the bed, with a wet spot on the shoulder of her toga from Valerian’s tears and snot, and it didn’t look like she was moving anytime soon. Percy spoke up. “What’s going on? Are you alright Valerian? Do you need anything?”

“What I need is for this crazy lady to leave me alone! I just want to be alone. Why won’t anybody ever let me be alone?” He stayed tense on the bed, leaning away from Demeter every time she tried to reach out to him, even if it physically pained him to do so. Eventually, after a few minutes of tense silence, Demeter moved away from the bed, and hastily exited the room.

Neophytos ran after her, then Will and Percy trailed after. Percy stopped in the doorway though, and looked back to the healing boy on the bed. He knew in that moment that he never wanted to see him like that again, and would go to Tartarus and back to prevent it from happening. He only wanted him to be happy from that moment on.

Chapter Text

A few days later, Valerian petulantly sat silent on the bed - like he had since he woke up - and ignored Will through yet another check up to see how well he was healing. He refused to speak to anyone for any reason, but that didn’t stop the people from talking to him. Will was fighting a battle with himself for whether or not he should break the silence surrounding the two of them. In the end, he decided he needed to lay down a few facts.

“In this world,” he began, “the world with Greek mythology come to life, there are rules that the gods cannot interact with life they have created with mortals. You are currently in a place where all the children of the gods gather to train and be protected from the monsters of the realm. This place - this camp, it is the gods’ way of showing that they care for us. It may seem messed up, and it is. But some of the gods care more about their kids than others. Your mother truly does love you, and I think if you had an actual talk with her, both of you would benefit from it.
You can choose what way to live your life, but wouldn’t you rather your life be a happy one?” By the time Will finished his impromptu speech, he was done with the check up and started to pack away all of the unnecessary tools. Once he was done and starting to leave the room, a soft voice caught his attention for a moment.

“Thank you.” It was brief, but that’s all that was needed. Will faced the boy on the bed and nodded shortly, before leaving Rian to his thoughts. “But my mother is dead and there is nothing I can do to change that, and there is nothing I can do to see either of them again until I pass.” He closed his eyes as he said this, not noticing that Will lingered in the doorway, or how the look of determination filled his eyes as he softly closed the door in search for his broody, emo boyfriend.

Rian rested for a couple hours, not able to fully fall asleep. During that time, he tried imagining what his life would be like if his parents were still alive. Would his dad have let him ride around on a broom when his mother told him not to? Would his mom have helped him with his potions homework? Would they have pets? Would they have sent him embarrassing howlers to the Great Hall or sent him care packages filled with home-cooked food?

These kinds of questions played like an endless loop in his mind, getting more and more complex with every passing thought. He was so involved in the what-ifs that could have happened that he was unaware of another (unwanted) visitor arriving. When he finally couldn’t think of any new scenarios that he hadn’t already thought of, he drifted back into taking in his surroundings.

Throughout his life, he had become accustomed to sleeping light when he was able to sleep, lest his relatives decided to “surprise” him late at night or early in the morning. He also learned how to feign being asleep while at Hogwarts due to Hermione’s habit of wanting to study or Ron’s need to go flying on his Firebolt early on weekends when all he wanted to do was sleep to catch up from the exhausting week.

So he wasn’t exactly surprised at the newcomer sitting at his bedside fiddling with something. He wasn’t trying to keep his presence hidden, he was just waiting for him to “wake up”. To Rian it felt like the person was calm, due to the even breathing and slow movements. He decided to risk it and cracked his eyes open to see who was sitting in the chair. It was someone he hasn’t met since awakening a couple days ago. He had dark hair, and seemed to dress in all black except for a brown aviator jacket. The light seemed to accentuate a small nose piercing on the left side.

While he was looking at the newcomer’s appearance, he noticed that he was being looked at in return, and realized that his eyes had slipped more open without him noticing it. He quickly looked away, but looked back when the person spoke to him. “You know that tall people can never sleep at night cause their feet are always cold due to hanging over the edge?”

“....What?”

“Well I mean beds are usually these standard sizes, so if a super tall dude tried to get into a single bed his feet would probably hang off to like mid-calf, but if he got a king bed that probably wouldn’t happen you know?”

Rian’s face drifted to staring straight up at the ceiling. He closed his eyes, and softly breathed out “that’s so strange.” There was a silence between them, so heavy but just begging to be broken. “Why aren’t you trying to convince me of something or comfort me?”

“Do you want me to? Cause I can, but I figured you’ve probably heard enough bullshit for one day.” Rian huffed out a small laugh, rocking his head back and forth a couple of times trying to figure this guy out. Nico continued, “People here, they mean well but they sprout a lot of bullshit platitudes that aren’t always appreciated by the one receiving them. It happened to me when I was 10 I think? It seems so long ago now. My sister had just died on a mission while I was stuck at camp. Percy gave me a statuette of Hades for my Mythomagic game, but I couldn’t care less. He told me he tried to protect her, that she acted without thinking everything through. I got left behind by my sister twice that winter, I had been abandoned by her twice. They sang her praises, from the campers, to the gods, to the Hunters. It felt like no one cared about her. Only what she had done when she died. I was upset. I was furious. So I ran away. I met and re-met so many campers that always sprouted the same bullshit. I never wanted them to. Eventually I let go of the anger, but I still hate it; empty promises, hopeless dreams. I never want someone else to hear them from me.”

The silence was tangible. If a pin were to drop, it would leave an echo. Then, Rian spoke, “Thanks.” He didn’t really know what else to say: ‘Sorry that your sister died and that you were alone for what seems like years. That’s really shitty’? That didn’t really feel appropriate considering the topic at hand. But he also didn’t want to spew out his own life story to this weird teenager. (1) “I can understand how that feels.”

The two fifteen year olds sat in companionable silence, relishing in the fact that someone was able to understand them. The quietness of the rustic hospital (In Rian’s point of view) was broken by Will coming back into the room, with Percy once again trailing behind like a puppy following the scent of bacon. “So! I have some good news for you Valerian, you will only need to stay in the infirmary for another night. You’ll be released tomorrow morning and you can get a feel for camp before settling into Cabin Four in the evening with your siblings. Percy here,” Will waved his hand in the general direction of the ravenette, who in turned waved to Rian, “has generously offered to be your tour guide tomorrow alongside Neo.”

Rian, who had started to relax when told he would be discharged soon, started tensing back up at the mention of the tour and his so-called siblings. “I don't have any siblings. I’m an only child. My father is James Fleamont Potter, and my mother is Lillian Jane Evans. They died when I was a baby and I live with my mother’s sister Petunia and her husband Vernon. Lived. I lived with them. But I’m not going back. So stop with all this fucking bullshit that I have a godly mother and fucking siblings cause I don’t! I don’t know what they drugged everybody with here but GODS. DO. NOT. EXIST!” Almost immediately, irrepressible and unrestrained thunder sounded from above and the skies went black. Everyone gathered went colourless, knowing that something bad was going to happen to the teen on the bed, but they couldn’t guess to what extent.

The lights in the infirmary went out, and the room was now only illuminated by the strong lightning reaching in from the doorway. With the next flash of lightning, there was a figure standing in the opening of the infirmary, a silhouette with no distinguishing features, but an oppressing sense of authority.

Will immediately dropped into a bow, while Nico and Percy stood with narrowed eyes. Percy casually had a hand in his pocket, while Nico had his arms crossed in front of his chest. After a couple of seconds of commanding silence, there came a soft glow from the figure.

The glow grew brighter with every passing second, going so bright that everyone had to shield their eyes lest they wanted to be blinded. It then softened to just lighting up the room, but only softly. What had seemed like a grown adult in the doorway, was indeed a small girl, with auburn hair who was glowing. Literally. She was the source of the light in the infirmary as the storm raged on outside, which now resembled a mere whisper.

Percy and Nico both relaxed and dropped their heads shortly in respect for the girl. Rian was still breathing harshly, lungs burning due to the lack of oxygen from yelling. He glared harshly at the girl, but there was a slight hint of fear there from the sudden storm, then the abrupt appearance of the aforementioned girl in the doorway.

“I can assure you, Valerian James Potter, the gods do exist, and there are many of us. You would do well not to insult those who can exact formidable retribution. Zeus does not take kindly to those who deny his existence. I have come to hopefully…correct the views you currently have. I am Hestia, the goddess of the hearth and home. I tend to the fire here at Camp Half-Blood, as well as the flame that keeps Olympus warm. You have been born of the relations of a goddess and a mortal man. You have likely displayed an affinity to vegetation in all forms, as well as an aversion to most animal products. This is so as you are the child of Demeter, the second born and swallowed of The Crooked One. You have power passed on by your biological mother, and you shouldn’t ignore that fact. While Lillian Evans may have cared for you like her own while she lived, she was not biologically related to you. Do you understand child?”

The self-proclaimed Hestia had come closer in her speech, stopping at the foot of the hospital bed with the full attention of everyone gathered. The silence was palpable, so heavy that the gravity seemed to increase on everyone’s shoulders. It felt like it lasted years, but in actuality it was only a minute at best.

“No.” It was quiet, barely a whisper, but it seemed to leave an echo. Hestia made a soft inquiring sound. “No, I don’t understand. If I’m not related to my mom, then I’m not related to Petunia. There wouldn’t have been a reason that I was placed there. There wouldn’t have been a reason they hated me, or hit me, or starved me! If the gods were or are real, why didn’t anyone save me? I prayed to everyone and everything under the sun to take me away from that god forsaken place. Please tell me that the gods don’t exist, cause then… because then I might have been able to die in that basement knowing there was nothing that could have been done.”