Shadowflame

When I woke up this time, I wasn't floating in goo, thank Merlin. No, I was in a bed, but not the lumpy, uncomfortable kind you find in the Hogwarts hospital wing. This was the kind of bed you'd see in one of those sci-fi shows Dudley used to hog the TV for—shiny, sleek, and way too clean.

I blinked a few times, trying to make sense of the situation. The walls were all white, with gadgets beeping and blinking like they had nothing better to do. It was the sort of place where you expected a robot to pop out and start scanning you for alien life forms.

Then I noticed the window. And by window, I mean the gigantic viewing port showing off a lovely view of Earth, just hanging there in the middle of a whole lot of nothing. 

Yep. I was in outer space. Because apparently, jumping through a magical death curtain wasn't dramatic enough for one day. 

"Well, Harry," I muttered to myself, "you've really outdone yourself this time."

—

So there I was, staring at the mirror, trying to figure out who the heck that tall, muscular guy was. This wasn't the scrawny, pale kid I was used to seeing every morning. No, this guy looked like he could bench press a hippogriff—or at least win an arm-wrestling match with Dudley, which is saying something. The only thing that hadn't changed were my emerald green eyes—still just as bewildered as ever.

"Okay, Harry," I muttered to myself, "either you've had the mother of all growth spurts, or something extremely weird is going on."

Before I could come up with any theories involving radioactive spiders or magical protein shakes, the door slid open, and in walked someone who looked like she'd just stepped out of an ancient epic. Tall, strong, and exuding an aura of "don't mess with me," she had a presence that made you want to stand up straighter. She looked like she could bench press a dragon—and do it with perfect form.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, her voice calm and soothing, which was a welcome change considering I had no idea where I was or what was happening.

"Uh, confused?" I said, still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I now had actual muscles. "And slightly concerned that I woke up looking like I could join a professional Quidditch team."

She gave me a small, reassuring smile, though her eyes showed a flicker of concern. "That's understandable. You've been through a lot."

"I'm starting to get that," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Could you maybe explain what's happened? Last I remember, I was jumping through a Veil in the Department of Mysteries, and now… I'm here?"

She took a deep breath, as if preparing to drop a major info bomb. "You were found in a place called Luthorcorp. They labeled you as 'The Subject'—part of something they called Project Chimera. They… experimented on you."

My stomach did a somersault. "Experimented? What kind of experiments?"

"They altered your DNA. Combined it with mine," she said, her tone serious but kind.

I stared at her, trying to make sense of it. "Your DNA? How does that even work? And… who are you?"

"My name is Diana," she said, with a touch of hesitation, "but some people know me as Wonder Woman." She paused, clearly noticing the blank look on my face. "I'm… from a place far from here. The people who did this to you, it wasn't something I would've chosen."

"Right. Wonder Woman," I repeated, still confused. "And you're saying I've got your DNA now? And who even is Luthorcorp? I was in London a minute ago. How did I end up here?"

She nodded, her expression softening with sympathy. "You were found in the Nevada Desert about a year ago. You were barely alive. Luthorcorp took you in, realized your DNA was different, and decided to experiment on you. They combined my DNA with yours, trying to create something… new."

"A year?" I echoed, feeling like the floor had just dropped out from under me. "I've been here for a year?"

"Yes," she said gently. "But you're safe now. Whatever they did to you, it's over. And you're not alone in this."

Safe, huh? Sure, I'd love to believe that. But a whole year? And I still had no clue who these people were, what they'd done to me, or why I suddenly looked like I could take on Grawp in a wrestling match. This was all so far beyond the usual weirdness that followed me around, it wasn't even funny.

"Thanks," I managed to say, unsure what else to add. I was thanking her for saving me, I guess, but also for not treating me like a complete freak.

And then there was the whole issue of not having heard of Wonder Woman or anyone like her before. With all the strange stuff in the Muggle papers, you'd think a hero like her would've made a splash. But no, nothing. It was like they were from a completely different universe—or maybe just a whole new level of obscure.

I didn't know much about what had happened to me or what was going to happen next, but one thing was clear: life had just gotten a whole lot stranger. And given my track record, that was really saying something.

—

Diana settled into the chair opposite me, her posture as regal as a queen's, though she was giving me a look that suggested I was about to be the subject of an intense interrogation. "So, Harry, tell me about yourself. Start from the beginning."

I took a deep breath, hoping my life story wouldn't sound too much like a bad soap opera. "Alright, here goes. I'm Harry Potter, and I'm from England. Or, at least, I was. I grew up with my aunt and uncle, who were… less than thrilled about having a wizard in the house. They weren't big fans of magic. They preferred a more conventional life, like, I dunno, never having fun or breaking the rules."

Diana looked intrigued, so I continued. "My parents were killed when I was a baby by a dark wizard named Voldemort. He was like the worst kind of bad guy—think of the biggest, baddest villain you've ever heard of and multiply that by a thousand. I survived his attack, which gave me this lovely lightning-shaped scar on my forehead."

I paused to see if Diana's expression was going to morph into total confusion, but she remained attentive. "Anyway, I went to a magical school called Hogwarts. It was like if a castle and a theme park had a baby. I made friends—Ron and Hermione—and we got into all sorts of adventures. We fought dark forces, dragons, and occasionally tried to stay out of trouble."

Diana raised an eyebrow at the mention of dragons, but I pressed on. "Last year, I was in the Department of Mysteries, trying to save my godfather, Sirius Black, who got trapped behind this Veil—a magical curtain separating life from death. I jumped through after him, and, well, the next thing I know, I'm waking up here, in this… place."

Diana's eyes widened with realization. "You're from a parallel Earth."

I blinked at her. "A parallel what now?"

"Your story," she said slowly, "doesn't match anything we know from our world. The magic, the wizards, the Veil—these are all new to us. It sounds like your reality is entirely separate from ours."

"Fantastic," I said, rubbing my temples. "So my life is basically a cosmic glitch. I should've known."

Diana smiled, a mix of sympathy and determination in her eyes. "It's a lot to take in, I understand. But you're not alone. We'll figure this out together."

I gave a wry grin. "Well, if anyone can handle a cosmic mix-up, it's probably me. After all, this is just another day in the life of Harry Potter."

Diana's reassurance was oddly comforting. At least I wasn't stumbling through this mess alone. With her help, maybe I could get a handle on this new reality—no matter how bizarre it turned out to be.

—

Diana took a deep breath, looking like she was about to deliver a punchline to a joke I didn't quite get. "Harry, there's something important I need to ask you. Given that you have my DNA, it technically makes you my son. I'd like to know if you'd want me to officially adopt you."

If my brain were a computer, it would have displayed an error message right then. Adoption? Like, the dream of every orphaned kid ever? The very notion seemed both ridiculously amazing and overwhelming. 

"I—I don't know," I stuttered. "I mean, having a mother sounds great and all, but... it feels like it would somehow diminish what my birth mother, Lily Potter, did for me. She sacrificed everything."

Diana's eyes softened like she was trying to tell me she really, really got it. "I understand. This isn't about replacing her or taking away from her sacrifice. It's about offering you a different kind of support. If that's something you'd want."

I ran a hand through my hair, suddenly aware of how my life had turned into one big, tragic soap opera. "And then there's the Dursleys. They were awful. And Sirius—he was like a father to me. Losing him... It feels like everyone I care about ends up hurt or worse. How do I even believe that anyone would genuinely want to care for me without it all going south?"

Diana nodded, her face a mix of compassion and determination. "Life can be tough, Harry. I can't promise you it will be free of pain or loss. But I can promise you that there are people who want to support you. You're not alone in this."

I sighed, feeling like I was standing on the edge of a cliff, staring down into an abyss of decisions and emotions. "I really need to think about this. It's not just about me. It's about what this means for everyone, including you."

Diana gave me a reassuring nod and a smile that was both encouraging and a little bit like she was giving me room to breathe. "Of course. Take all the time you need. I'll be here when you're ready to talk."

As she walked out, I was left alone with a whirlwind of thoughts. It was like I'd been handed the world's largest puzzle with a piece missing. But at least I wasn't completely lost in this crazy new world.

—

Diana took a moment to collect her thoughts, and I could tell this was going to be a big deal. "Alright, Harry, here's the deal," she said, her voice steady and reassuring. "I need to take you to meet some people. They're part of a group called the Justice League."

I raised an eyebrow. "The Justice League? Sounds like something out of a comic book."

Diana chuckled. "In a way, you're not far off. The Justice League is a team of heroes who come together to tackle threats that are too big for any one of us to handle alone. Think of them as the ultimate team-up."

"Okay, so who's on this team?" I asked, already feeling a bit overwhelmed.

Diana nodded, ticking off names on her fingers. "There's me, Diana. Then there's Superman, known for his incredible strength and ability to fly. Batman, who's got the brains and the gadgets—kind of like a superhero Sherlock Holmes. The Flash, who's super fast, faster than anyone you could imagine. Green Lantern, who has a ring that can create anything he can think of. Martian Manhunter, who's got abilities like shapeshifting and telepathy. And Aquaman, who rules the ocean and talks to sea creatures."

I blinked, trying to take all that in. "Wow, that's quite the lineup. And you want me to meet them?"

"Yes," Diana said with a nod. "They're the founding members of the Justice League. They handle global threats and work to keep the world safe. It's important that they know about you and your situation. Plus, they can help you adjust to this new world."

I nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. Meeting superheroes wasn't something I'd ever expected to be on my to-do list. "Got it. Let's go meet the Justice League."

Diana led the way, and I followed, trying to mentally prepare myself for what was to come. This was definitely not the sort of thing I'd read about in the Muggle papers. But if meeting these heroes could help me figure out my place in this bizarre new reality, I was all in.

—

So, there I was, floating in the most epic sci-fi set ever. Picture the Starship Enterprise, but with a superhero twist and minus the Klingons. We were in the Watchtower, a massive satellite hanging out in space like a giant metal donut. It was exactly the kind of place that made me think, "Yep, I'm definitely not in Kansas anymore." Or London. Or wherever I'd been before jumping through that Veil.

Diana led me into the medical bay of this celestial fortress. It was like walking into the future—if the future was filled with cool gadgets and walls that glowed more than a disco ball at a dance party. Earth was a beautiful blue marble spinning below us, and I found myself doing that awkward thing where you try to look cool while your jaw is practically scraping the floor.

Then, it was time to meet the Justice League. You know, the superhero squad whose action figures were probably collecting dust in toy stores across the multiverse. I was introduced to each of them, and let me tell you, they were every bit as impressive as their reputations. Superman stood there like a beacon of hope and muscles, Batman was all brooding intensity, the Flash had that manic energy like he'd just had triple espresso, Green Lantern was glowing green in a way that made me wonder if he was radioactive, Martian Manhunter had that alien cool factor, and Aquaman was, well, totally Aquaman.

"Welcome to the Hall of Justice," Diana said, with a tone that made me feel like I was in some sort of VIP superhero lounge. "This is where we handle the world-saving stuff."

Batman, ever the intimidating force, wasted no time. "Harry Potter. Tell us everything. And I mean everything."

I blinked. "Uh, sure. Where to start? I'm Harry Potter. I grew up in a cupboard—literally—thanks to my wonderful relatives, the Dursleys. I went to Hogwarts, had some magical adventures, and then jumped through a Veil to save my godfather, Sirius. And now I'm here, in what I'm guessing is a different Earth. I've got to say, this place is a lot cooler than my old one."

Diana stepped in, clearly trying to help me out. "Harry's story is strikingly similar to what we know, but with some key differences. We believe he's from a parallel Earth, which explains why his experiences are both familiar and foreign."

Batman's eyes narrowed, like he was mentally compiling a dossier. "And how do we know he's not a threat? Just because he's from another Earth doesn't mean he's harmless."

Wonder Woman, looking like she was ready to take on a horde of villains single-handedly, stepped in. "He's not a threat. He's been through enough. He deserves a chance."

The discussion turned into an intense debate, with Batman playing devil's advocate and Wonder Woman defending me with the ferocity of a lioness. It was like a high-stakes courtroom drama, but with more capes and fewer legal briefs. Wonder Woman's passionate defense was heartening—she was clearly treating me like a kid she'd do anything to protect. And while Batman's skepticism was a bit intimidating, it was clear they were both fiercely dedicated to making sure I got a fair shot.

Eventually, Superman intervened with a resolution. "We've decided to give you a chance to live your life as you wish, but there are conditions."

"Conditions?" I echoed. My stomach felt like it was doing cartwheels. "What kind of conditions?"

"We'll need to document the scope of your abilities," Superman explained. "And Martian Manhunter will perform a telepathic scan to ensure you're not a danger."

The mention of a telepathic scan made me want to bolt. My experiences with Occlumency had left me with a serious aversion to anyone poking around in my mind. It felt like being asked to open up my brain to someone who might be a lot less gentle than Snape.

"I'd really prefer if my brain stayed private," I said, trying to sound braver than I felt. "But I suppose I don't have much choice."

Wonder Woman put a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "It's for your safety and ours. We need to understand your abilities and ensure everyone's well-being."

Martian Manhunter nodded solemnly. "I will proceed with the scan. It will be as non-invasive as possible."

As I prepared for the telepathic scan, I couldn't shake the feeling that this was just another bizarre twist in an already crazy day. But if the Justice League was giving me a chance, maybe—just maybe—I could find a place where I finally belonged. Assuming, of course, that I survived the mind probe.

—

So, there I was, about to get my brain probed by the Martian Manhunter, a guy who could probably read my mind faster than I could say "Quidditch." I wasn't exactly thrilled about it—imagine being a contestant on a super-intense game show where the grand prize is your own personal mental breakdown. Yeah, that's what it felt like.

At first, it was like flipping through the best of my life's blooper reel. There was Hagrid, grinning like a giant teddy bear, telling me I was a wizard. I remembered the cake he handed me—my very first birthday cake ever. Diagon Alley appeared next, all magical and twinkling like something straight out of a fantasy film. The moment Hagrid gave me Hedwig? Classic. I had never seen anything cooler, and she became my best feathered friend.

Then came the Hogwarts Express, with Ron and Hermione making their debut. Meeting them on that train was like stumbling into a buddy cop movie where I actually got to be the hero. And Hogwarts? Seeing that castle for the first time felt like stepping into the pages of a storybook. Learning to fly a broomstick and getting on the Quidditch team felt like winning the lottery, except with more soaring through the air and less paperwork.

But then, just like a rollercoaster that suddenly takes a turn for the worst, the happy memories started taking a dive into the abyss. I found myself reliving the Dursleys' abuse—the sort of treatment that makes you wish for a giant, magical reset button. The feelings of being ostracized at Hogwarts came next. Everyone thought I was the Heir of Slytherin in second year. It was like being stuck in a never-ending nightmare. By fourth year, people accused me of cheating my way into the Goblet of Fire, and fifth year? Oh, that was the peak of everyone thinking I was a nutcase who invented Voldemort's return.

The Third Task was like something out of a horror movie—watching Cedric die and Voldemort's return felt like someone was twisting a knife in my gut. And the Dementors? They were like the creepy old uncles of the magical world, bringing back the worst memories of my mom's death.

Umbridge's blood quill was the stuff of nightmares—writing "I must not tell lies" until it left a scar on my forearm was her way of making sure I never forgot her twisted idea of discipline. Snape's Occlumency lessons felt like mind-melting exercises in psychological warfare. And Sirius's death? Let's just say it was the final boss level of my emotional hellscape.

As the memories crashed over me, I felt like I was sinking in quicksand. I hit the floor, overwhelmed and gasping for air. Diana, being the goddess she is, swooped in and wrapped me in a hug. She held me like a protective shield, her presence a warm anchor in the storm of my memories.

Martian Manhunter floated nearby, looking like he'd just realized he'd accidentally triggered a personal crisis instead of a simple psychic scan. I could sense his guilt, and it was almost palpable.

"I didn't think it would be this intense," I managed to croak out, my voice a ragged whisper.

Diana's arms tightened around me. "You've been through more than anyone should ever have to. But you're not alone anymore. We're here."

In that moment, through the haze of my past, I felt a tiny flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, in this bizarre new world, I could find a place to heal and be more than just the sum of my painful memories.

—

The door to the Medical Bay slid shut, leaving the remaining founding members of the Justice League in a silence that was far too heavy for a room full of superheroes. They gathered around the central table in the Watchtower's briefing room, each lost in thought. Even Superman, the man of steel, looked like he'd just had an unpleasant brush with kryptonite.

Martian Manhunter stood apart from the group, his usual calm shattered like a dropped crystal ball. Whatever he'd seen in Harry's mind had shaken him more than he cared to admit.

"So, J'onn," Superman finally broke the silence, his voice as steady as a locomotive, "what did you see in the boy's memories?"

J'onn J'onzz, usually the epitome of composure, took a moment to collect himself. "What I saw… well, it was like getting a front-row seat to a tragedy marathon. From the day he was dumped on his relatives' doorstep like an unwanted package, his life has been one long series of unfortunate events. And I don't mean the fun kind with wacky hijinks."

The Flash, who had been nervously tapping his foot at super-speed, blurted out, "But he had some good times, right? Friends, adventures, you know, the usual magical boarding school stuff?"

J'onn nodded, though his expression remained grim. "He did, but even those moments were overshadowed by constant danger and loneliness. His friends helped, but they couldn't shield him from everything. The magical world revered him as a hero, but just as quickly turned on him whenever things went wrong."

Batman, ever the skeptic, leaned in, his eyes narrowing. "And the abuse? How bad was it?"

J'onn sighed, a sound that carried the weight of a thousand bad memories. "Let's just say, if there were an award for 'World's Worst Relatives,' the Dursleys would win it hands down. They starved him, locked him in a cupboard, and did everything short of sending him to prison. And even at Hogwarts, his so-called sanctuary, he was ostracized, accused, and manipulated by those in power. The boy's been through more trials than most seasoned superheroes."

Aquaman, who had been brooding quietly, spoke up with a low growl. "The kid's been to hell and back, no doubt. But can we trust him? Can he handle the kind of power he's got?"

Batman crossed his arms, his expression as unreadable as ever. "It's not just about power. It's about resilience. He's survived all this time, and from what we've seen, he's done it while trying to protect others. That tells us a lot about who he is."

Superman turned his gaze back to J'onn, his voice filled with the kind of hope that could lift an entire planet. "What do you think, J'onn? Can we help him?"

J'onn's usually stoic face softened, his red eyes reflecting a deep sense of empathy. "I think… no, I know he needs our help. But we must tread carefully. His mind is fragile after everything he's been through. He needs time to heal, and more than anything, he needs to know he's not alone anymore."

The room fell silent again, the weight of the decision pressing down on them. Batman, ever the strategist, finally broke the silence. "We'll document his abilities, keep an eye on him, but we're not locking him up. He's been through enough. If anyone knows what it's like to fight their own demons, it's us."

Superman nodded, his expression resolute. "Then it's settled. We'll give him the support he needs, the life he deserves. Maybe, just maybe, we can show him that being a hero isn't just about fighting battles—it's about finding a place where you belong."

With that, the League members dispersed, each carrying the weight of Harry's memories with them, but also a spark of hope. Because if there was one thing they all believed in, it was that even the most broken of heroes could still shine.

—

So, there I was, sitting in a high-tech medical bay that looked like something straight out of a sci-fi movie, feeling like I'd been hit by a Hogwarts Express full of emotions. Not my best day, to be honest.

Diana sat beside me, radiating calmness and strength, like she had this whole 'comforting warrior goddess' thing down to a science. Which, considering she's Wonder Woman, I guess she does. I was trying to keep it together, but it was tough when every good and bad memory I'd ever had had just been sifted through like pages in a particularly depressing photo album.

"You're not alone, Charis," Diana said, her voice as gentle as a warm breeze.

Wait—hold up. Charis? Did she just call me by some weird name that definitely wasn't Harry?

"Charis?" I asked, doing my best to keep up with whatever Greek thing she was about to lay on me. "Did you just call me Charis?"

She smiled, and I swear, it was like the kind of smile you'd expect from someone who could bench-press a mountain but also knit you a scarf. "Yes, Charis. It's a Greek word. It means 'grace' or 'kindness.'"

"Okay…" I said slowly, still not quite seeing how that had anything to do with me. "And you're calling me that because…?"

"Because that's what you are, Harry," she explained, her tone so sincere it made my heart do this weird flip-flop thing. "You're a grace or a kindness of the Gods, a blessing in my life and, perhaps, to this world as well."

Alright, I'll admit it—that hit me right in the feels. I wasn't exactly used to being called a blessing. Back in my world, I was 'The Boy Who Lived,' which, trust me, sounds way cooler than it actually is. Mostly, it just meant I was the guy everyone expected to save the day, usually at the expense of my sanity and a good night's sleep.

"Um… thanks?" I managed, feeling about as awkward as a Hippogriff in a china shop. "I mean, that's nice of you to say, but I'm just Harry."

She gave me that smile again, the one that could probably make flowers bloom and all that sappy stuff. Then she reached out and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, which, for some reason, made me feel like I was five years old again, wishing for a family that actually gave a damn. "You may think you're just Harry, but to me, you're Charis. And I believe you're here for a reason, a kindness of the Fates."

I wasn't sure how to respond to that. On one hand, it was nice to be seen as something good. On the other hand, my track record with being 'chosen' wasn't exactly stellar. Still, something about the way she said it made me want to believe her.

"Oh, and by the way," she added with a chuckle, "it's convenient that 'Harry' is also a perfect nickname for Charis. It's as if you were meant to be called that."

I couldn't help it—I actually laughed. A real, genuine laugh that felt like it had been buried under all my worries for way too long. "Well, if you put it that way, I guess I can get used to it."

She pulled me into a hug then, one of those warm, comforting hugs that made you feel like everything might actually be okay for once. "You're strong, Charis. And you don't have to face this alone anymore. We're here with you. I'm here with you."

I nodded against her shoulder, not trusting myself to speak. For the first time in a long time, I didn't feel like I was carrying the weight of the world all by myself. Maybe, just maybe, in this crazy new world with these insanely powerful people, I could find a bit of peace.

Or at the very least, I thought with a wry smile, try to avoid getting into too much trouble. But knowing my luck? Yeah, I wasn't holding my breath on that one.

—

As if the day couldn't get any more surreal, far above the mortal realm and tucked just out of sight, Hermes, the fastest messenger this side of Olympus—and arguably the biggest gossip in existence—hovered invisibly in the medical bay, witnessing the tender moment between Diana and Harry. He'd only intended to peek in on Diana (nothing like a quick visit to see what Zeus's favorite daughter was up to), but what he found was... juicy. So juicy, in fact, that he could hardly believe his winged sandals.

Diana, the Wonder Woman herself, was comforting a young man as if he were her own son. And that boy? He wasn't just some random mortal; he was radiating with some serious power and—wait for it—demigod DNA.

"Well, well, well," Hermes muttered under his breath, his invisible form shaking with barely contained excitement. "Isn't this just the cherry on top of the chaos sundae?"

He grinned wickedly, already imagining the drama that would ensue once this news hit Olympus. The idea of Zeus learning that his mighty Amazonian daughter somehow had a son—despite the complexities of how exactly Harry acquired Diana's DNA—was enough to make the messenger god practically giddy. Zeus, of course, would be thrilled at first. A grandson! The mighty Zeus's lineage continued! But oh, the implications...

For starters, Hera, Zeus's ever-jealous wife, was going to lose her mind. Not only was there a new demigod to add to her ever-growing list of reasons to be angry at her husband, but this one was different. This one was connected to Diana, Zeus's favorite demigod daughter. The fact that this child—okay, technically a teenager—existed was proof of more divine meddling, and Hera's wrath was practically a guarantee.

"Oh, I can already hear her screaming," Hermes chuckled, imagining Hera's inevitable fury. "And then there's Themyscira..."

The very thought of the Amazons learning that their precious princess had a child—a male child, no less—was enough to make Hermes laugh out loud (still invisibly, of course). Themyscira was the ultimate 'no boys allowed' club, and now their most revered warrior had a son? Oh, the drama would be delicious!

With a sly grin, Hermes decided it was time to do what he did best—spread the news. He zoomed off in a blur, zipping past the mortal world and straight to Olympus at a speed that would leave any Quidditch Seeker in the dust.

First stop, Zeus. The King of the Gods would need to hear this, and Hermes could already imagine the stunned look on his face when he found out he was a grandfather. And not just any grandfather—a grandfather to a boy who somehow, magically, carried Diana's DNA.

And then? Off to Themyscira. Not that Hermes was allowed on the island, but he knew a few ways to spread the word. Maybe drop a hint here, a whisper there. Let it slip to a gossip-hungry Amazon or two. The news would spread like wildfire, and the whole island would be in an uproar before sundown.

As for Hera? Hermes decided to let that bombshell drop on its own. She'd find out soon enough, and when she did... Well, that was a mess Hermes would enjoy from a very safe distance.

"Let the games begin," Hermes said with a gleeful smirk, speeding away to Olympus, where a storm of divine drama was about to brew. 

Oh, how he loved his job.

---

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