Disclaimer: I don't own either series.

EDITED by Mellie Erdmann.

Chapter Two: Three Old Ladies Knit the Socks of Death

Harry was very confused. How had someone managed to convince nearly everyone that Mrs. Kerr had been their pre-algebra teacher since Christmas at Yancy Academy in upper New York? This meant he had gone to New York City that day; under other circumstances Harry would have been disappointed at not paying closer attention.

Of course, he didn't dare mention Mrs. Dodds to anyone in fear of someone figuring out his secret. Not even Grover.

So Harry focused on his schoolwork. It was harder and different from what he had been studying before but luckily no one expected brilliance from 'Percy'. In fact, he was supposed to have both AHAD and dyslexia. Harry had no idea how to fake that, so he just acted hyper and deliberately misspelled some words. It didn't help that he kept having nightmares about killing the thing Mrs. Dodds had turned into. And that he was over ten years into the future. Technology was disturbingly more advanced than he was used to.

Plus the freak weather had everyone on edge. Thunderstorms, tornados, sudden squalls out in the Atlantic, and more. Still Harry kept his grades in the B and C range, kept his head down. This was clearly disturbing Grover more than he was trying to let on and Harry let him. He didn't want to explain himself.

But that didn't mean he let Nancy Bobofit beat him up. Percy's body was sturdier and stronger than his own, so Harry let loose during gym class around her and her friends. He didn't take anything the bullies tried to dish out. He had gotten enough of that from his cousin.

So of course, when Nancy tripped Grover when he was racing to the cafeteria for enchiladas, Harry attacked. Over the past month and a half he had come to really like Grover and no one was going to mess with his first friend.

But this led to both him and Nancy being formally not being invited back next year. Harry didn't mind, except for not being at the same school as Grover next year. Actually, he didn't know what school he'd be going to next year.

His resolve renewed, Harry studied hard for his upcoming exams. This life was far better than his previous one by far despite all of these issues.

Believing what Mr. Brunner had told him that day at the museum, Harry studied hardest for his Latin exam. But the names were all so similar at times, and the chronology so confusing. And the spelling was outright absurd at times- even without dyslexia he couldn't spell the name of the love goddess for example.

Finally the evening before the Latin final Harry gave up and headed towards Mr. Brunner's office to ask for help, textbook in hand. There was a light on in his, raising Harry's hopes. But as he approached the partially open door he heard the end of a sentence. A sentence said by Grover.

"… worried about Percy, sir."

Harry froze as Grover continued.

"He'll be all alone this summer. I mean, a Kindly One in the school! Now that we know for sure, and they know too. Besides, he's acting odd ever since that day."

"We would only make matters worse by rushing him," Mr. Brunner responded. "We need the boy to mature more."

Panicky Grover argued, "But he may not have time. The summer solstice deadline-"

"Will have to be resolved without him, Grover. Let him enjoy his ignorance while he still can."

Rage rumbled within Harry. He wanted to know what was up with him and Percy; clearly he AND Percy were abnormal, maybe even in the same way.

"Sir, he saw her…"

"His imagination," Mr. Brunner overrode Grover's concern. "The Mist over the students and staff will be enough to convince him of that."

"Sir, I… I can't fail in my duties again," Grover all but pleaded. "You know what that would mean."

Kindly Mr. Brunner assured him, "You haven't failed, Grover. I should have seen her for what she was. Now let's just worry about keeping Percy alive until next fall-"

The textbook dropped from Harry's hand, making an audible thud. That sounded like there was a real risk of him dying. Inside the office was sudden silence. Grabbing the book, Harry backed down the hall, hurriedly opening the nearest door and going inside as he quietly shut the door behind him.

Less than a minute later Harry heard clopping sounds approach his door. Hunched down, Harry saw a large shape in the glass pane of the door before it moved on. Harry had been sure his heart had been pounding loud enough to be audible.

Out in the hallway Mr. Brunner stated, "Nothing. My nerves haven't been right since the winter solstice."

"Mine neither. But I could have sworn…" commented Grover.

"Go back to your dorm. You've got a long day of exams tomorrow."

"Don't remind me," groaned Grover. A minute later the light of Mr. Brunner's office went off. Feeling like he was back in his cupboard, Harry waited until he felt it was safe before exiting and returning to his dorm.

Grover was on his bed, studying for his Latin exam notes. Blearily he greeted Harry. "Hey, you going to be ready for this test?"

Not trusting his voice, Harry only nodded.

Frowning Grover noted, "You look awful. Is everything okay?"

"I'm just… tired." Harry turned away and started getting ready for bed. Behind him Grover commented, "Then you've been tired since that field trip to the museum."

Harry didn't respond. He couldn't trust Grover with his secret, and apparently Grover wouldn't trust him with his. He hated secrets.

The following afternoon, Harry left fast from Mr. Brunner's classroom before he could call him back inside. He didn't want to hear it.

The last bit of the term passed fast. Harry packed, wondering how on earth he'd act to his mother. Apparently Percy had a mom and a stepdad. Although from a few doodles the real Percy had left behind, he apparently hated his stepdad as much as Harry hated the Dursleys. But all the letters from his mom were caring and sweet. Harry didn't know how to feel, especially if Percy was now in his shoes. If anyone asked what he'd be doing that summer, he'd only shrug and they'd leave him be. At least he'd be returning to New York City.

Harry hadn't wanted to say good-bye to Grover; he couldn't be mad at him for keeping a huge secret when he was doing the same. But Grover was taking the same bus to Manhattan as him, so they sat in semi-comfortable silence for the first part of the ride through the New York countryside. Grover kept looking around nervously.

Finally Harry just sighed, "Looking for another Fury to attack me?"

Grover all but jumped out of his seat. "Wha- what do you mean?"

"I looked it up after I heard you and Mr. Brunner that night- you mentioned a Kindly One. That means Fury, and their description sounds like what Mrs. Dodds turned into," Harry informed Grover rapidly.

"So… how much did you hear?"

"Enough," Harry replied evasively. "What was the summer solstice deadline you two were talking about?"

"Look, Percy… I was just worried for you, see? I mean, hallucinating about…" Grover trailed off when Harry started glowering at him.

"Grover, you're a good friend but a bad liar."

His ears turned pink. He scrounged out a grubby business card from his shirt pocket.

"Just take this, okay? In case you need me this summer."

Exhaling, Harry took it and read it.

Grover Underwood

Keeper

Half-Blood Hill

Long Island, New York

(800) 009-0009

"What's-" Harry began but Grover shook his head rapidly.

"Don't say it aloud. That's my, um… summer address."

Harry wondered what that 'um' had meant.

"Oh, okay."

"If you need me."

"Huh?"

"Look, Percy, the truth is, I- I kind of have to protect you."

Harry looked out the bus window, wanting to say 'no, you have to protect Percy' but not being able to say it. So all he said was, "What exactly were you protecting me from, Grover?"

At the same time there was a grinding noise and black smoke poured out from the dashboard. The smell of sulfur- the smell of Mrs. Dodds, Harry realized in horror- filled the bus.

Cursing, the driver steered the bus over to the side of the highway opposite a fruit stand. After a few minutes of tinkering he told everyone that they could get off the bus for a bit.

Idly Harry looked over at the wooden fruit stand, Grover on his crutches nearby. There were cherries, apples, walnuts, apricots, and jugs of cider for sale. A trio of old ladies sat in rocking chairs under a tree's shade, with wrinkled pale skin, silver hair, and dressed in faded cotton dresses. The two on the edge each were knitting a sock the size of a sweater, while the lady in the middle held a huge basket of electric blue yarn. All three were intently studying Harry as he did them.

"Tell me they're not looking at you. They are, aren't they?" Grover fretted next to him.

"Yes. Odd… I wonder who those socks are for."

"Not funny, Percy. Not funny at all," Grover whimpered.

The center lady took out a giant pair of gold and silver shears, making Grover catch his breath.

"That's it, we're getting on the bus. Come on."

"No," Harry quietly responded, his eyes not leaving the shears.

"Come ON!" insisted Grover, heading for the door. But Harry, unmoving, watched the ladies watch him. Then the center one cut the yarn, the snip somehow audible across four lanes of traffic. Contentedly the other two balled up the electric blue socks. At the same time the driver got the bus fixed, the engine roaring back to life. All the passengers cheered but Grover and Harry.

"Everyone back on board!" yelled the driver, slapping the bus with his hat. Once back on the bus, Harry finally felt the heat of the day. Yet Grover was shivering with his teeth chattering. But Harry didn't want to ask any questions, because then he might have to answer some in return. At length Grover however started a conversation.

"Percy, what did you see back at the fruit stand?"

"Those weren't Furies-"

"Kindly Ones!" yelped Grover. "Kindly Ones!"

"No; call them by what they are," Harry responded defiantly. "Anyway, those three weren't the Furies."

"Look, just tell me what you saw," Grover begged.

"The one in the middle took out shears and cut the yarn."

Grover closed his eyes and made a gesture with his fingers, like a ward for protection but far more ancient. Wearily he stated, "You saw her snip the cord."

"Yes. Why? What does it mean?"

Chewing at his thumb Grover seemed not to hear him. "This is not happening. I don't want this to be like the last time."

"What- that time you 'failed' or something?"

"Always sixth grade, they never get past sixth grade," mumbled Grover, his eyes wide. Face-palming Harry inquired, "Grover, what are you talking about?"

Inhaling Grover just said, "Let me walk you home from the bus station. Promise me."

"No. Not unless you tell me what's going on."

"Percy, please," Grover begged. "I can't tell you because then they'd find you more easily. The more you know, the stronger the scent and the more easily they find you."

"Who?" demanded Harry. "Who would even want to find me?"

"Percy, just let me walk you home."

"Fine," sighed Harry. "But once home we're going to have to have a long talk. We both need to come clean."

Grover blinked, but nodded. But for the rest of the ride he still muttered under his breath about 'always sixth grade' and 'why does this always happen' on top of keeping looking over at him as if Harry were going to die soon.