Disclaimer: I am not cool enough to be Rick Riordan or J. K. Rowling, nor do I own any of their respective series.
A/N: Hey! It's me. Just found out about the Percy-is-the-grandson-of-Voldemort type of stories a day ago and I've already written my own. Ugh, it's awful. I stress-write, and since none of those stories have been finished... Here lies the product. Hope you enjoy.
It started with a dream.
A figure sat at the head of the table in a high-backed chair, presiding with aristocratic boredom over the meeting. He had pallid skin that was accentuated by the pitch black robes he wore. He was bald and had cold, dead eyes. Most strikingly, though, was his absence of a nose.
Percy stared at the two snake-like slits that were located where his nose should be and wondered if and how the man picked his nose.
"What of the matter I asked you to investigate?" the man said, his voice a silky hiss. His slits flared slightly and Percy struggled to fight the urge to scrutinize them closer.
"Master," another man said, voice shaking a little. "We, uh, we do believe that, well – "
"Crucio," the first man said simply, and pointed a wand-like object at him. Pained screams filled the air as the frightened man twitched and convulsed on the floor. Percy could only stare in horror.
"Be more articulate," the snake man said, voice unperturbed. "The next time, I might remove your tongue and save me the trouble of having to listen to you. Would anyone else care to explain?"
There was a stretch of uncomfortable silence as the other people around the table looked at each other, silently urging the other with to explain. Finally, a brave soul squeaked out, "You have a daughter."
"A daughter," mused the snake man. Percy shuddered and tried to banish the image of this creature doing anything that could result in a child. Where was the mind bleach when you needed it?
"This suits my plans. Is she a capable witch?"
"Master, we...we think she's a squib."
There was a beat of silence, and the snake man said, "Crucio."
Percy closed his eyes and clenched his fists. No one, not even evil servants of the snake man, deserved to be tortured like that.
"You have a grandson as well," the woman gasped out after it was over. "And he might be a wizard."
The snake man smiled cruelly. "Well, this shall have to suffice," he said. "Have someone retrieve him at once. Bring him before me, unharmed. I will retire for the night, and I shall be very angry should any of you disturb my sleep."
He stood up, robes billowing, and took two confident strides away before stopping. He turned around.
"What is his name?" he said.
Percy woke up, staring up into darkness and wondering what it meant. He checked his bedside clock and judged it too early to still be up, so he sank back into sleep, this time dreamless.
Halfway across the ocean, another boy woke up as well. He felt sick and nauseous. Luckily, this time he hadn't screamed himself awake or tangled himself up in the blankets. But this dream was almost as disturbing as the other ones.
Voldemort had a grandson.
"Percy Jackson," Harry whispered.
Review? If you say you like it, I'll continue it. I already have half of the first chapter done. It (hopefully) gets better. Sorry this was so short; it was the prologue, so the next ones, if continued, will be longer.