Harry Potter and the Norse Gods

{1} Under the Stars

STORM'S POV

A week. 

That was the sum total of the time I got away from the Wizarding World before I got dragged back into it again. Thankfully, it was well into the holidays by the time Lady Artemis returned to us and we were able to safely leave the Hogwarts grounds, so we had had several blissful weeks not having to worry about any bratty children finding us. 

Although, I think Artemis had been half hoping that we had some new recruits by the time she got back. Our numbers still hadn't recovered after Puerto Rico and we were heading into yet another war.

We didn't stay in the UK once Artemis returned. We went back to the states instead, to a forest in New Hampshire. It was summer, so the weather was nice and we spent our days doing what we pleased, but my mood was somewhat soured by my imminent return.

Thalia had been the one to break it to me. She was lucky I hadn't broken any of her limbs as payback. 

"Come on, Storm. You can't spend all of your last day brooding!" 

I rolled my eyes as the peppy strawberry-blonde plopped down on the log beside me. 

"I can, Livvy. And that's what I fully intend on doing."

"Uh, no. Come out and hunt with us. For old times sake?"

"By old times, do you mean yesterday?"

"Hey, it feels like a lot longer." 

"Go bug your girlfriend," I said, poking the ground with a freshly-made arrow. 

It wasn't good for the tip, but I needed something to do with my hands. My scowl deepened when I realised that this time tomorrow, my hands could be occupied with a wand for the first time in decades. 

It wouldn't be my wand, though. When I first joined the Hunters I had brought it with me, although I didn't use it until we helped in the fight against Grindelwald. When it was over (or rather, when we stopped helping) I left it behind for good. It was long gone by now, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness. A wizard without a wand was as good as dead, as my father used to say. 

Well, Dad, I thought, I'm a wandless wizard, and I'm doing a lot better than you, aren't I?

I was shaken out of my thoughts when an arrow flew through the air and planted itself in the log between Livvy and I. I only glanced up when Stella came over to retrieve it. Despite being in the Hunters for as long as I had been, she was worse at archery, choosing instead to rely on her demigod powers of light manipulation to fight instead. 

Zoë had always insisted that she learn to fight with a knife, or a bow and arrow, or preferably both, but it was only after she died that Stella began to properly learn, probably as a way to mourn her. We had all mourned her, in our own ways, to varying degrees. Of course, the newer Hunters hadn't known her for as long as, say, Livvy, who had been with the Hunt since the Roman times, and as a result, they hadn't mourned her the same way. 

Artemis seemed to have mourned her most of all. Although, I say that like she's stopped. She had never been as close to anyone as she had been to Zoë. At least if she had, I hadn't seen it, and neither had Livvy or Nya. It was always strange to remember that Zoë and Artemis had known each other for centuries. After all, Zoë had been one of the oldest Huntresses when she died and had apparently been the Lietunent for most of that time. 

"Next time, try to hit the target," I told Stella, watching out of the corner of my eye with a slight smile on my face as she tried desperately to unlodge her arrow from the wood.