Phoenix of Olympus (PJO/Harry Potter) UNEDITED (PJ FANFICTION)

Ch. 11- Sweet Misery

I ascended the stairs as I thought of how my only tethers to reality and life were my duties, the people under my care and my domains. Without them, without war and unrest, I was unneeded. I had no purpose now if everything went right. How fucked up is that? My entire existence rests on everything wrong in this world. It rests on everything I tried to fight against and fix, everything I tried to heal. Talk about a problem...if I do nothing, I have a purpose and a reason to live on. But, I won't be serving my purpose. I would only be worsening the suffering of my charges and going against my loyalty and morality. But if I do something, if I work against all I must defeat, at some point, I will prevail. And then, I will be purposeless. I will be purposeless, but I will be free. I can fade.

It was with this final thought that I arrived to my door. I opened it to my alternate pocket of reality, my temple and island of isolation. I paused and closed my eyes as I inhaled the fresh sea air. I could almost feel the salt and water molecules flow through the breeze, mapping out the invisible choreography it danced. I smiled at the swirls and loops it followed, almost like a galloping herd of stallions. I opened my eyes to see white curtains gently kissing the floor and sweeping off into the air as it wove across itself.

I walked forward on the cold white marble flooring and concentrated on the sounds of my echoing footsteps. I silently commanded my weapons to return to their resting places, leaving Riptide with me out of habit.  I slipped off my shoes while leaning against the carved columns and padded along in my socks. I slipped my long sleeve shirt over my head, leaving me in a white tank top. I just let the shirt drop, not caring enough to be clean. No Anna- no one to scold me with an adorable scowl, so why even bother caring.

I walked into my bedroom and thrust the windows open, resulting in a gust of wind blasting my hair back as my arms became riddled with goosebumps. I looked out over the view, absorbing the ocean, the clear skies, and the sun slowly descending upon the horizon. Another day is coming to an end, and the eternal night will begin to rise.  I will be able to glance upon my old friend once more. I let out a heavy sigh and headed towards the bed. I collapsed, letting the soft cushions conform to my body like the gentle hug of a cloud. I just lay there thinking about bittersweet nothings until the sounds of chattering and the noises of life roused me from bed.

I looked out of my window to see the moon well above the horizon. A heavy fog had descended upon the beach and a light mist now blanketed my floor. I stood up and grabbed a thick mariner's sweater, mindlessly tugging it over my head. I ignored my shoes and headed towards the Common Room in my socks. I know doubt looked like a mess with my bed head and mismatched outfit. But as a Professor, I now had responsibilities. Ugh, I still shiver at that word.

I had expected a bright light to assault my eyes upon opening my door but I was greeted with the gentle glow of a few lamps and the Common Room fireplace. Looking at the healthy blaze reminded me of Hestia. As my gaze wandered, I caught sight of the troublesome trio sitting tensely near each other. There were other students scattered about but those three caught my eyes.

Ron lay draped across the couch very much like Thranduil did upon his throne. He had a cocky smirk upon his face while Hermione seemed to be about ready to burst with agitation. But whether that contentment was aimed towards Harry or Ron, I did not know. My cousin sat down on the floor, completely absorbed by a book. His focus and scrunched eyebrows reminded me of how Anna-how she used to look. Hermione seemed to bristle as Ron said something to her and I leaned across the balcony, recognizing that she was about to burst. This should be interesting...Her final breaking point seemed to be Harry's question.

"Have you ever heard of this spell? Sectumsempra?"

"No, I haven't!" It was very nearly a yell. Her voice was almost shrill, her tone clearly stating she wished to be left in peace. She was jealous of something, and incredibly frustrated with the two boys. Maybe it was a period thing? She almost seemed to glare clear through the book as if she wished for both it and Harry to combust. "And if you had a shred of self-respect, you'd hand that book in." Ah, so it was a matter of pride and honesty. Interesting...