Harry Potter and Percy Jackson Dark Waters - CH 3

Why did Harry suddenly feel like someone patted his back in approval?

Shaking off the strange feeling, Harry examined the statue a bit better. The man looked incredibly well built, better than anything Harry had ever seen in picture books. In fact, it looked as if Michelangelo had examined this statue and made a rather poor copy of it when he sculpted his 'David'.

The statue stood in a strange pose, with legs spread shoulder-wide, his left hand, balled into a fist, on his side, and the other arm outstretched, holding up a golden ball.

Looking further, the boy found that there was writing on the base upon which Mister Statue stood. To his surprise, the letters didn't seem to dance up and down, like the letters on the pages of the books in school did, but he still couldn't read them properly. They were weird, like someone had tried to write English letters while drunk.

Shaking off the strange lettering, he looked around the large entry hall. It ran to the top of the house and the roof was made of glass or something equally transparent as Harry could see the sky above, with the large sun beaming down.

The rest of the hall was pretty empty, except for a marble table that stood in front of Mister Statue.

Turning around, Harry walked passed the statue and deeper into the house. The rest was like a normal house, three stories, connected with stairs. The layout was open-floor, with the

roof supported by columns. Everywhere he was, he could see Mister Statue's imposing form.

On the ground floor, there appeared to be a fireplace, complete with a pile of dried firewood next to it, as well as metal tools needed to poke the fire and clean it out.

There also appeared to be a cooking area, a dining area, and a sitting area. The various rooms were marked off with furniture of different kinds.

At the back of the house, right out the back door, was a covered-over area that held a large pool, fed by a waterfall coming from the large mountain that dominated the city. Yet more marble columns held up the roof. Unable to help himself, Harry leaned down and felt the water. It was warm. There must be hot springs or something nearby.

Going back inside, and up the stairs to the second floor, Harry was beyond ecstatic to find

a real bed! As well as various cabinets to hold clothes and other supplies. To his disappointment, the closets and cabinets were empty. He'd have to find a way to get some supplies. He may be able to use the pool and waterfall outside to wash, but without soap, he wasn't about to get clean. Washing his clothes would be a problem, as well.

The second floor was open floor as well, with a large relaxing-and-sitting area flowing into the sleeping area, with another fireplace.

He climbed the stairs to the top floor, and found another bedroom! He could have a guest! Not that he had any friends to invite over, but now he had room for one if he ever got one! The top floor was furnished less richly than the second floor, and Harry guessed this was some kind of guest bedroom, even when Mister Statue had used the house himself.

For a few moments, he leaned against the railing that separate the top floor from the large

atrium, staring at Mister Statue's back. He wondered who had designed the place, as this definitely didn't fit any norms he knew of, and it definitely wasn't something he'd design himself.

The place didn't even have a bathroom! Well, other than the hot pool out back, and that was only for washing himself. He didn't see any electricity, nor any appliances to do laundry with, nor did he see a toilet. That was going to get awkward.

His stomach grumbled, and Harry pushed away from the railing. Making his way downstairs, he kept an eye out for cleaning utensils; he was determined to keep his promise to Mister Statue and having a broom or a mop would help.

He didn't find anything, unfortunately. Harry sighed; this was going to be a problem. The house held furniture – very comfortable furniture – but was lacking everything that he needed to make actual use of it. No bathroom,

no utensils, no appliances, not even a bar of soap.

The cupboards in the kitchen were as bare as the cabinets in the bedrooms had been. Harry sighed, of course they were bare. Who knew how long it had been since the house had actually been used?

Looks like he'd have to go dumpster diving.

He walked to the front doors, and turned to face the statue. "Hi Mister Statue," he chirped. "I'll be right back. I just have to go and dig up some food. Maybe I can even find an old mop or a broom to get started on cleaning the house."

He didn't feel anything out of the ordinary, and just waved at the statue as he left, making sure to firmly close the large double doors behind him. Looking around, he oriented himself, wanting to make sure he could find this house again after he had found something to eat.

The sun had gone down by the time Harry returned, looking dejected. It seemed that this beautiful city had something against dumpsters, as he hadn't been able to find a single one. Nobody seemed to throw anything away, and it would make 'living off the land' difficult for him.

He felt bad about the loaf of bread that he was carrying; he'd been forced to swipe it off the table of a merchant in the market square while he was busy with another customer. He really didn't want to steal, but he was so very hungry.

He slipped back inside. With the sun down, the house was extremely dark, the only light coming from the lighted braziers that lined the road, their light streaming in through the open front door. When the door closed behind him, he was in total darkness.

Harry waited a bit, hoping that his night vision would improve and let him see. While it doubtlessly improved, he still couldn't see. It

was as if the house had been sealed off from light now that the sun was down.

Silently, he edged his way inside, and stumbled into the marble table that was standing in front of Mister Statue's statue. With his free hand, he wiped it as best he could, and put the loaf down. Turning, he made his way back to the front doors, and pulled both of them open to allow the light of the braziers to filter inside.

He wondered how he was going to light the house – leaving the front doors open wasn't something that he was willing to do.

Suddenly, he had a thought. Cloaked in the half-light filtering in through the front doors, rather than being in total darkness, Harry made his way to the hearth, where he remembered firewood having been stacked.

He found the longest, thickest piece of wood in the pile, extricated it, and made his way outside.

Standing on his tiptoes, he reached with the wood to the brazier and waited for it to catch.

Finally, with a makeshift torch, he went back inside and closed the front doors. The fire danced merrily as he retrieved his loaf of bread… only to find that half of it was missing. He blinked.

Then looked up at the statue. "Were you hungry, too, Mister Statue?" he asked. "I'm sorry; I didn't know statues could even get hungry. Thanks for leaving me some, though. I'll bring some more for you tomorrow."

There was a strangely comforting feeling, and Harry retrieved his half-loaf and went inside. Lighting the hearth was easy enough now that he had a burning torch, and soon he was munching his bread while watching the fire.