The night preceding the day had been cold, the hearths all snuffed out late in the night. Even with the supposed natural warmth of the day, Olympus was still incredibly chilly, both in temperature and attitude.

Zeus was the first to notice it, even if he did it simply off hand.

Zeus was sitting in his throne, simply sitting as he partook in his favorite activity. Being the king of Olympus. There was nothing greater than to be the leader. Zeus then shivered (not that he would ever admit it), not because it was cold, but rather because the temperature was neither cold nor warm and was quite simply uncomfortable. Standing from his stark white throne Zeus went to go ask Hestia why none of the hearths were lit.

Zeus looked at the grandfather clock that adorned one of the walls he passed. Eight in the morning, a reasonable time to be at work. Which meant that of course Hestia was still sleeping and wouldn't wake for another four or so hours. That didn't excuse the others, as he was the only one who was in the Hall of the Gods.

Looking up into the sky and wondering why is was still so dark, Zeus was immediately willed in a global storm, ranging from simply overcast to full blown hurricanes. There was no sun in the sky. That was incredibly concerning considering how Apollo was awake at incredibly early hours, and thus worrying that he was not able to get the sun into the sky.

Now that he thought about it, there was still the moon in the sky. So Artemis was unable to retrieve it so it could be replaced by the brighter ball. That was even more concerning, considering how competent Artemis was compared to her brother.

Let it never be said that Zeus didn't play favorites, because he did.

So with that thought in mind Zeus began to run towards Apollo's temple. By run, Zeus was literally riding on lightning in order to travel faster to figure out why Apollo had not done his duty.

Literally kicking down the door to Apollo's bedroom with his dress shoes, Zeus strode in the room with a commanding aura. Only to immediately flinch back as he caught sight of the numerous pinups on the walls. God, did the boy have no self respect whatsoever? At least Zeus had the decency to put them in his sock drawer.

A surfboard that had likely never seen the ocean, a few discarded clothes littering the floor, Zeus swore by himself that it was like a twelve year old living here.

Glancing over a the race-car bed Zeus kicked the side of it with a grunt.

"Wake up! The sun needs to shine you imbecile!" He boomed in his godly voice, his shoulders lightly rising and falling as he attempted to catch his breath. Let it be known that keeping a global storm up was incredibly taxing, especially at eight on a Wednesday.

With a moan Apollo sat up, and in the place of the normally cheery and bright playboy was a pale gray zombie with matted blonde hair and blood-shot eyes. The younger of the gods stuck an arm out in a zombie-like fashion, causing Zeus to take a large step back as his eyes grew to the size of dinner plates.

There were some things is life that were absolute. Artemis hated men, and that would never change. Demeter was constantly high. Apollo was always a pretty boy. Absolutes that Zeus hadn't seen change in the many millennium he had been alive. So with something that was definitely not a shriek, Zeus chucked a picture of one of the ninety Jonas brothers at Apollo's head effectively knocking him unconscious, not that he had been particularly coherent anyways.

Perhaps his lovely man-hating daughter would be more...pleasant. However she was out on a hunt, and therefore Zeus decided to go to the next woman he thought of off the top of his head. Sadly Hades had barred him from entering the underworld, so his wife – Hera – would have to do.

Once more riding a stray lightning bolt Zeus panted, it was getting incredibly hard to keep up such a large storm with no proper motivation. While Zeus was annoyed, he had no proper righteous angry, fury, or glee that would help him ignore the power consumption. With a groan he was strolled into his wife's temple clutching his head.

With a sigh Zeus attempted to remember the way to his beloved's bedroom. He was very rarely here, and he supposed he was in the dog house once again for some inane reason that Hera wouldn't even let him attempt to let him justify. Admittedly she was one of the few who did actually call him out on his mistakes in a way to make him a better person.

He did truly appreciate his wife and – DEAR TARTARUS!

Zeus, while looking for his beautiful, lovely wife, ran into yet another gray skinned abomination this time, the female's brown hair not done in it's usual bun, nor was she decent in any way. Cracked lips, and heavy bags under her eyes of which both had glossed over, hair a mess and duller than normal. She was slowly running her body into a pillar in an attempt to move somewhere but had clearly given up before she had even left the temple.

Zeus cringed at the moans Hera voiced as she slumped further on noticing him. She had at least stop running into the pillar, because that simply could not be good for either the foundation or the woman whom he loved unconditionally.

This plague or whatever this phenomenon was had clearly struck all the gods, or at least it likely had. Why had it not struck him, Zeus wondered as he made his way to go check on any other gods he could find from the pantheon. Perhaps because he and his brothers were safe because they were so much more powerful than the others? No, the seas had not been tame at all from what he had seen of the news today.

Perhaps Hades and he were fine then? There was no definite way to check, and Hades was unlikely to answer any summons bar a titan invasion, and that was simply preposterous.

While thinking of anyway to contact a god that wasn't infected with whatever disease that the rest of the pantheon he had met with had, Zeus had wandered into Hestia's temple subconsciously, hoping she was unaffected.

First, Zeus thought he was imagining it. After all, Hestia was the calm, reasonable one of the pantheon. Where he, the youngest, was very much objective and a leader, Hestia was the eldest and a people person who loved to coddle others and was very bad at leading anyone who didn't immediately listen to what she said unless she was angry.

But as he continued into the cozy temple Hestia resided in, there was no mistake. Hestia, his adorable, beloved elder sister was crying her heart out. She was not gray like the Apollo or Hera, and her eyes were red from crying and not bloodshot. Her face was marked heavily by red streaks where the tears ran down. She was clutching a pillow, and looked up when she felt Zeus watching her. She used the back of her unclothed hand to wipe away her tears in an effort to look composed.

Zeus no longer had any problems keeping the storm running. In fact it was slowly increasing in ferocity as he continued to see his favorite sister cry her eyes out.

"What is wrong?" Zeus ground out in an effort not to yell or smash something out of anger – not at her, but at whomever made her like this. For there would be no mercy for that poor soul, only painful death the likes of Tartarus could not fathom.

The eldest goddess was wearing her normal dark brown robes, but lying in a ball like she was they pooled around her and made her seem even more vulnerable and small. Zeus' hand crushed into a fist when she sniffled, but kept his worried look. They were dead.

"Harry, he," a sniffle, "he was abandoned. He doesn-" She bit back a sob that bubbled in the middle of her sentence. "He doesn't think he deserves me, he's so cold...no emotion… no anything. He-" Another sob, this time taking her many moments to recover enough to continue. "I want to, to help but I can't. He's too cold, too not warm for me to comfort." She shivered.

The boy, Zeus thought angrily, had made Hestia cry. He would have to die a painful death. There was no way he would escape to Tartarus as long as Zeus wanted to punish him. For no mortal nor god would ever go unpunished for making Hestia cry. Before Zeus could go and murder the Boy-Who-Lived in a very shocking death, he was stopped by Hestia continuing.

"I love him so much...I can't imagine he live like he is any longer. I'll never recover if he can't, I care too much for him." She voiced, countering his thoughts despite her doing little else than ramble at this point. Biting back a gasp Zeus realized why he was the only one unaffected by the seemingly universal grasp of cold and emotionless stupor.

He had the fatal flaw of pride. He was too prideful to be influenced by someones emotions, just as he was too stubborn for him to accept being wrong very often. The other gods had no buffer, no saving grace from Hestia's unwilling influence. She was the heart, the warmth, the family and when she was hurting, they all were hurting.

But Zeus was the leader, he couldn't be influenced like that. Even his own rage at the Potter was not shared by Hestia – whom only pitied and felt for the boy. The boy couldn't die, if Olympus and the Earth stayed like this there was no telling when, or if, Hestia would get over it.

Even with that being a factor, the real reason Zeus knew he wouldn't be able to kill the boy – Harry, he reminded himself – was because it would cause Hestia to hurt, and there was nothing he hated more than hurting his own family with his actions. He sadly did it very often.

What, were you under the impression that Zeus had no personality other than being an ass? Shame on you reader, for no character is two-dimensional, just as no person is completely two-dimensional. We're all disgusting three dimensional poly grams.

So Zeus, mentally thanking his fatal flaw turned saving grace, set off for Hogwarts in an effort to see how bad the situation was. Considering Hestia's breakdown – for Zeus knew no word that more accurately described what she was going through – he was expecting something of a trainwreck.

He did, however promise to himself that no matter what the mortal was thinking, or rather what he was clearly not thinking, that he would save him if not for Hestia's sake then for Olympus'. Sure, running off of his righteous anger, Zeus could continue the global storm for a few more hours but he was still only a god. Rather he wasn't an all powerful being, sadly.

So, brushing stray bits of dust and other various grime that had stuck to his gray tuxedo suit (for they were the only article of clothing that was pompous enough for Zeus to wear) and brush back his balding white hear, Zeus called upon a lightning bolt and flew back to his throne in the Hall of the Gods.

He picked up the Master Bolt, and reminding himself he was not to kill the mortal who made his eldest sister cry, summoned another bolt of lightning and rode it to the wizard school.

Zeus would later furiously deny any accusations that he was a softie, or a had a sister complex.


"This is most worrying" Kronos lamented as he passed the bottle of scotch to James.

"What was your first clue, the fact the bloody sun hasn't risen or was it the fact that Zeus, the king of prats, is our hero?" James yelled back angrily which made Kronos wince as he rubbed where his ears would be if he had any. James was still incredibly not pleased with the fact that his son's best friend had abandoned him.

"That one." Kronos knew that snarking back would result in retaliation but he couldn't help himself. James was such an incredibly pathetic target when he was angry that it almost made Kronos' snark not enjoyable. Almost. Of course, James lunging at him was not anticipated and despite his larger stature, the Titan was pushed down.

With an 'oomph' both male prisoners of Tartarus were groaning on the stone cold floor of the multi layered prison that Tartarus was. With a cross between a sigh and a moan Kronos tilted his head to see a furious James clenching and releasing his fist at a rapid pace, one that was picking up as time ticked on.

Perhaps, Kronos thought, James was a little more mad about the whole situation than he had anticipated. Then again, one must remember that Kronos has been trapped in Tartarus for many millennium, and had developed a rather...apathetic look on events of those above despite his direct family being heavily involved. James had been in the 'torture prison' for just over thirteen years. Not a lot comparatively, and Kronos admitted to himself he was likely similar to James when he was first tossed into his current residence.

"Perhaps we should...converse," the word was said tersely, even more so than the rest of the sentence, "with the youngest male redhead." Kronos didn't exactly have a knack for memory, he was more of a action kind of deity, so he could be forgiven for forgetting the surname of Ron. He could have said Ron, but that was just so unrefined and bland compared to the (admittedly) melodramatic and pseudo-evil act. Though that had problems, the main one being the Pool of Viewing they used to view Olympus and Earth being rather in the ground, meaning the friends would have no way to stay updated with the events on Earth or Olympus.

Kronos wondered if he should have kept his mouth shut, because he was sure that he had never seen a grown man look so happy at the thought of yelling, maiming, torturing, or any given combination of the three, a child. This was the paternal instinct of a mortal? He shuddered at the thought of ever seeing a maternal instinct at full force. He also privately cursed himself for not being a better father, if they got this kind of power every time their child was placed in mortal - or more accurately immortal - danger than he would be more than willing to play trains or some such with his children.

The Titan had little time to ponder, however, as James started to shove his elbow lightly but impatiently.

"C'mon I wanna go the bloody prat out of my son's friend!" James could sound like a excessively whining child when he needed to. Or perhaps he could sound like a reasonable adult when he really needed to. Either way, Kronos stood up and brushed dust off his large frame before turning to James.

The human was already walking in a random direction. Why? Well neither he nor Kronos knew where the exit to the damned pit that was stopping him from delivering divine pranks. With a sigh the more mature (though still highly immature) divine creature jogged lightly to catch up with the human man who calling mature was nothing but a blatant lie.

"So which way are we going first, James?"

"I was following you!"


Perhaps dementors were being called back to Hogwarts. It would certainly explain the soul crushing feeling like happiness did not exist, not mentioning the fact the castle was covered in a not-so-thin layer of ice because of the temperature. It seemed that everyone was affected and that no one could do much other than sit and hope the feeling passed soon. Yes, it seemed just about everyone was affected by this horrible, crushing feeling so similar to Dementors.

Draco Malfoy was just able to notice, however. He was too busy being his normal snarky and irritating self for him to possibly care about the emotions of others. For he was the Prince of Slytherin, the Green Godling, the Purest a Pureblooded wizard could be. He was not evil by any scope of the imaginations, a nor was he something as stupid as 'good', he much preferred to see himself as a benign force. That didn't mean he wouldn't join Voldemort in a heartbeat if his father or mother asked him, because he cared more about them than anything else.

If all humans were privy to a fatal flaw that kept them from being perfect, along with all the normal flaws humanity came with, Draco Malfoy's would certainly be pride. His ego so massive he truly was a rival for Zeus in that both could eclipse the world if left unchecked, thrusting the world into a terrible darkness of boasting and sheer arrogance. Well, if the ego of either could become physical beings they would.

Regardless, Draco was not having a particularly good morning. Not only were his bodyguards unresponsive and more sluggish than normal, they both seemed to radiate depression. Honestly it was a miracle the oafs could feel emotion with how empty their heads were, but what reason did they have to be depressed? Scoffing at the sheer annoyance other's emotions were, Draco had walked into the common room to perhaps find some intelligent conversation for once. Of course, the blubbering fools whose given names he never bothered to remember turned out to be no worse than the rest.

Draco paused for half-a-second to think about why he was unaffected, before simply chalking it down to his immense power and importance that the disease refused to sully someone as perfect as he. Though he was very concerned that Pansy looked halfway dead on her feet. Contrary to popular belief, he did like Pansy quite a lot and most certainly did not find her annoying. Most of the time. Still he hoped the sickness passed soon, if only because he hated seeing his- err... he wouldn't want to risk getting infected, that was it!

Far more disconcerting was the fact that his godfather seemed to be affected by whatever ailed the rest of Slytherin. He wasn't an undead-wannabe like the rest, nor was he mostly comatose like quite a lot of the students seemed to be, but his skin was ever more pale than usually, bag under his eyes deeper than yesterday, and hair no longer having a greasy shine. Draco made a face at the last one, and promptly decided that if anything good came of this, that at least he wouldn't have to worry about potions dripping off his godfather's hair. Even so the potion's master did little but sit in one of the green plush chairs and stare into the fire, handing out droughts of calming.

flipping his hair in a completely non-dramatic way, Draco made his way out of the Slytherin dungeons and traversed the ever twisting maze that was Hogwarts. Though he did know the way after four years and so had no problem getting there, he did wonder just how many first years Slytherin lost getting trapped down in the dungeon. There were many turns down less than safe corridors, and rooms that were certainly not child friendly. Draco was snapped out of his thought by enter the Great Hall and promptly noticing there was no food.

Peering under the tables, he made a second conclusion, there were also no students or teachers! Professor Snape was accounted for, he was helping the students (as odd as that sentence was), but no one except the Astronomy Teacher had an excuse to not be here! Surely they were not all helping students? Casting a quick Tempus it read that the time was 7:59, and forcing the doors of the Great Hall open, Draco saw that is was dark outside. He would have thought it was night time, if not for fact that it was most certainly not night time for the obvious reason of he had gone to sleep last night.

Looking into the sky Draco saw a moon, and more importantly a clear sky with no SUN. As if a divine being also just realized it, clouds gathered faster than they had any right to, creating a thunder storm as lightning streaked through the sky and thunder boomed. Running back into the castle to escape the rain that was suddenly falling, and closed the massive doors behind him quickly to not cover the floor in water. With a sigh Draco sat down at the Slytherin table and waited. Ten minutes passed before Draco promptly decided that no one was going to come, and headed for the Ravenclaw dormitories. While he didn't care for anyone in the House of Wit, it was better than people thinking he knew a Hufflepuff - or even worse, a Gryffindor.

So Draco made his way up to the Ravenclaw tower, and if asked later he was not running, merely walking quickly. Though, he would admit he was concerned how his education would suffer if the teachers were all taking care of students constantly. Not concerned about any of the students at all.

As he upped his speed Draco muttered "Somehow, I know Scarhead has something to do with this." before sighing and continuing onward.

Ironically, he was right.


Harry opened his eyes. He had not been sleeping. It was simply what a human being was supposed to do at night, according to the information he had gathered. Sitting up the raven haired Potter turned his head perpendicular with his shoulders and looked to see if anyone else was awake. It appeared that Neville Longbottom was shivering under his covers, odd considering he was not cold.

Ronald Weasley was turning in his bed, shaking and groaning while still sleeping. The redhead also pulled at the covers, making scrambling motions as he struggled against a force that wasn't there. Perhaps this one was having night terrors. It was of no concern to Harry.

He knew little of the other boys in the dormitory, and made little effort to look at how they were fairing, though he noted that none were missing, Casting a Tempus the time was said to be 8:01, and therefore Harry had spent roughly one minute analyzing the state of the his dorm mates. It was of no matter. Leaving the cushioning of the bed, Harry stood straight and made his way for the door. He stepped on many articles of clothing and articles of... other things as he traversed the minefield of a room, pausing only to open the door and slide out, the door closing behind him with nary another sound. He made his way to the Common Room.

The Common Room was littered with people in the higher years, many draped across couches, the floor, each other in some kind of human obstacle course. It made little difference as he ignored the red and gold robed teenagers and made his way out of the Gryffindor gathering. He was stopped midway by a familiar face.

"Harry?" Hermione asked when she saw him. Despite being barely conscious, and so dizzy she had to sit down. "How are...you okay?" She paused in the middle of her sentence, wondering what question to ask with her limited energy. Harry turned towards her, pale green half lidded eyes peering into her soul. Harry opened his mouth. Then closed it.

"My body and mind are maintained by exercise of the physical and mental variety," The Boy-Who-Lived paused and tilted his head in what would have been a cute motion had he not been speaking in monotone, "my body is below average according to my mental records, not 'okay' and therefore your question is invalid." Turning his back on the bushy haired female, Harry made his way out of the Common Room.

Harry would not be affected by the soul crushing feeling that grasped at other's emotions, for he was the creator of the aura that projected cold and emotionless onto those around him. He was a dementor in human flesh, a being that had no emotions. Harry did not eat the emotions as normal dementors did, for he could no longer comprehend them. They were stolen away, the memories of happiness, and whether anyone could regain them as unknown.

For Harry would affect even dementors, the emotions and souls eaten by them wasted away and killing the cloaked phantoms from the inside out if any approached him. If they were capable of their own emotions, they would fear the fourteen year old scrawny boy. As it were, they had the instinct of self-preservation and would still avoid the boy at all costs.

With precise walking, Harry made his way down to the Great Hall. Perhaps food would fill the empty void in his chest, that did not seemingly exist in the material realm.


Okay, this should have been up on December 2nd. Blame Fallen-Ryu for giving me the idea of a dementor Harry. It was a brilliant idea mind you, and I liked it better than the first draft where Zeus popped down to Hogwarts, (literally) beat some sense into Harry, and end the chapter with fluff. Instead, I can make all of Hogwarts suffer to varying degree, Mwhahaha! Admittedly it should have been up on the thirteenth even without changing the script, but my computer broke, so I'm typing this all on my mother's laptop which has a significantly smaller keyboard than mine, and as such it's incredibly hard for me to type.

Anyways, moving on! I bet you all thought I was going to bash Zeus, didn't you? He's actually my favorite god, mostly because I have an incredibly large ego like he does. When people ask what my name is I say 'Gilgamesh' and put on an incredibly egotistical persona, and it's magical. Also, Draco Malfoy. Originally Draco was going to snark Ron for abandoning Harry (not for Harry's sake, just to rub it in that Ron is a horrible person), and have a Ego-Off with Zeus, but I decided to give him a secondary reason to be connected to Zeus in that he's one of the only characters that is at full capacity while Harry is releasing his aura fully. Also, the bit with everyone on Olympus being basically zombies is Hestia's influence. She's the god of FAMILY, so I imagined it like Hestia having a major influence on that, and when she's as broken as she currently is so is everyone else.

Also, can I say I have a new respect for the cliche 'Character is dense and doesn't get obvious signs of affection by many females' because good god is it hard to write Harry. That said Harry doesn't understand any emotion, and as such I'm trying to write his as robotic-ally as possible while still making it clear he is a human. I cannot wait to fix him because it took my nearly an hour to write all four-hundred or so words that had Harry in them.

So, to recap, Olympus is screwed because Hestia is making all the gods that she considers family comatose, Zeus' ego is so large he's immune and is on his way to Hogwarts to save Harry and his family. James and Kronos are making their way out of Tartarus to kick the shit out of Ron, of course they won't be out for a while and since they have no way to stay updated..

Hogwarts is screwed because Harry is making all the students and staff (including House Elves) half-dead and sucking away emotions dementor style, Draco's ego is so large he's immune and is on his way to Ravenclaw tower to check if anyone else is unaffected and perhaps save Hogwarts and the world along the way. Harry is making his way through the castle to the Great Hall, looking for something to fill the void left by his wayward emotions, and is far more analytical than normal.

Oh, and to be perfectly honest, I've not read/watched most of the series I'm interested in. I've only watched up to Movie 4 of Harry Potter and none of the books, the only Percy Jackson movie I've ever watched was the first and I've never read any of the books (or subsequent books), hell any information I say is almost guaranteed to be from straight up Mythology or other fanfictions since the last time I watched a Harry Potter movie was 2005.

Oh, hey, it wasn't six months this time.