Nico's POV

"It's right there!"

Nico tugged his aviator jacket tighter around his shoulders. As asked, they'd arrived after dark, only to become in lost in London's maze as a thunderstorm rolled in. Rain plastered his dark hair to his forehead as he glared furiously at the space where number twelve Grimmauld Place should be.

Will wiped the water from his eyes, "There's nothing there, Annabeth."

"There, between numbers eleven and thirteen!" she insisted, annoyed.

Percy was being uncharacteristically silent. He'd refused to talk about their run-in with Voldemort a few days ago or the Unbreakable Vow he'd made (stupidly, in Nico's opinion). He claimed to be fine but then he'd almost flooded the girls' bathrooms when Chiron asked him how his mother's pregnancy was going – not an indicator of an easy mind - but then, if Nico was in his position, he doubted he'd be doing much better.

"There must be some kind of cloaking spell," Annabeth said, her brow creasing in frustration, "Maybe… Percy and I read the address when it was written down. We'll just have to ask someone to let you in. Wait here."

Nico groaned. He'd forgotten how wet Britain was.

"Uh, guys?" Will muttered.

Nico followed his gaze. A stranger lurked in the shadows, watching them intently. Upon being spotted, he stepped into the yellow light of the streetlamps. Water dripped from brown, silver-streaked hair, running down his wearied face and soaking clothing that looked more patched than the original fabric. Despite his look of exhaustion, he smiled cautiously, "I'm Remus Lupin. What are your names?"

The demigods exchanged suspicious glances. When you're a half-blood, mystery men were more often monsters than fairytale princes.

"I'm Annabeth Chase. This is Nico di Angelo, Will Solace and Perseus Jackson."

"Annabeth!" Nico hissed.

She shushed him, "You're a wizard, aren't you?" she asked the man.

Remus grinned, "Yes, and you must be the demigods Dumbledore asked me to meet," he drew a shred of parchment from his pocket, "Quick, read this."

Will squinted at the note for a moment before passing it to Nico. The narrow handwriting was smudged by the rain. It read:

The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.

"I don't see how-" he stopped abruptly as a battered door appeared from nowhere in the space between numbers eleven and thirteen, followed quickly by grubby walls and filthy windows. Mortals hurried past, barely looking up, encased in their own umbrella-shaped bubbles where only their feet and the wet pavement in front of them existed, though Nico doubted they'd see anything, even if they did look.

"Hurry!" Lupin encouraged them, "I'm drenched, and I think a cup of tea would do us all some good."

Stamping their frozen feet, they traipsed up the worn stone steps and waited, shivering, while Lupin pulled his wand from his cloak and tapped it on the door. The knocker was silver and shaped like a twisted serpent. Nico heard many, metallic clicks and what sounded like a chain and then the door creaked open.

"Don't go in too far and don't touch anything," whispered Lupin.

The sweet, damp scent of rot filled his nostrils as he stepped inside. Light from the street spilled onto the threadbare carpet. Old-fashioned gas lamps illuminated the hallway, throwing shadows across disdainful portraits hanging, crooked, on the wall, and glinting off a cobwebby chandelier, wrought into the shape of a serpent. He looked over his shoulder and saw the others filing in behind him.

"Man, this place is creepy," said Percy.

A door at the end of the corridor opened and Harry's godfather, Sirius emerged, looking rather less skeletal than when they'd last seen him.

"Nico, Will," he smiled half-heartedly, "It's good to see you again."

Annabeth looked between them, surprised, "You know eachother?"

"It's a long story," Nico said, "This is Harry's godfather, Sirius Black."

"Sirius has kindly lent his house to the Order of the Phoenix," Lupin explained.

"I'd say nice place, but…" Percy gestured around at the mildewed walls and cracked ceiling.

Sirius laughed bitterly, "Well, it was my parents'. Their tastes were always old-fashioned."

"Has the meeting started yet?" Lupin asked him seriously.

"Yes, they're waiting in the dining room."

"Who's waiting?" asked Annabeth.

The two men exchanged looks and Lupin spoke, softly, "The Order of the Phoenix, the anti-Voldemort organisation," Percy jumped, "The meeting is for members only, I'm afraid, but you should go upstairs. Your friends have been waiting for you."

Nico shouldered his bag and began climbing the grand staircase, followed by his friends.

"It's the second door on the left, first landing," Sirius called quietly after them, "Don't go waking anything up!"

"What that's supposed to mean?" Will wondered, under his breath.

Nico shrugged, crossing the dingy landing and turned the second bedroom's doorknob which was shaped like a silver serpent's head (he was beginning to sense a theme, here). He stepped into a gloomy, high-ceilinged twin-bedded room.

"They're here!" cried a familiar voice.

Hermione sprang up from the floor where she, Harry and the Weasley kids were sitting and engulfed Nico in a hug.

"Er- thanks, Hermione," he mumbled, too surprised to be annoyed. Instantly, he regretted talking as his mouth was filled with hair.

"How was your summer?" she asked them, eagerly, "How's your camp? Have you heard from Hecate?"

"Good… good… and no," Annabeth answered, hugging her.

"Let them breath, Hermione!" laughed Harry, joining them by the door, "Hey, guys!"

Percy froze like a deer in headlights. Annabeth nudged him, "Uh, hi," he muttered.

"Tell us about your summer!" Will said, steering the conversation away from Percy, "Why are you all sitting on the floor?"

"We're eavesdropping on the Order," Fred, or George – Nico could never tell them apart – explained, "Using these – Extendable Ears!"

He held up a flesh-coloured string which they were dangling through a gap in the floorboards, "Come see," said Ron, "They're really cool!"

Annabeth took the end of the Ear gingerly and held it up, so they could all lean in and listen.

"-bad idea," a voice Nico recognised as Mad-Eye Moody's – though he'd never met the real Moody – was saying, "A security breach, that's what it is. We can't trust 'em, especially-"

"Oh, shut up about that, will you?" a female voice he'd never heard before said irritably, "If Dumbledore says we can trust Percy, then we can," Nico met Percy's eye and saw his own guilty shame reflected there, "I, for one, can't wait to meet them."

Now Mrs Weasley, who Nico had met in the Hospital Wing after the Third Task, spoke, "Well, you'll meet them at dinner. Now, if this meeting's about over…"

"Sorry you had to hear that, Perce," Ron said, "If it helps, the Prophet's been giving Harry a tough time too."

Annabeth frowned, "What's the Prophet got to do with anything?"

"They've been saying Percy's as crazy as Harry," Hermione said very quickly, not looking up, "For believing you-know-who's back and that they're… um, related."

"But I was there too!" Nico argued, "I saw him!"

"You're not exactly a reliable source, mate," Ron explained, "People are saying you meddled with the task."

"Only because Percy was about to die!"

"We know, Nico," said Hermione, earnestly, "They're just idiots. At least Rita Skeeter's out of the picture-"

Nico looked around at his friends, "It seems we have a lot to catch up on…"

So, they talked; they had a good laugh about Skeeter's come-uppance and then Harry told them about how he was attacked by dementors and almost expelled but was rescued at the last minute by the Order. Sneaking nervous glances at Harry as though afraid he might explode, Hermione and Ron explained how they'd been staying at Grimmauld Place all summer but had hardly learnt anything useful, except that Voldemort was after something he didn't have last time.

"Like a weapon?" offered Will.

"Knowledge can be a weapon," Hermione said wisely.

Knowledge… like a prophecy. Nico sucked in a breath, trying to ignore the way Will's arm tightened around his shoulder. Percy's fists clenched in his lap.

Hermione might've questioned them, but they were saved by the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. Fred hastily reeled in the Extendable Ear, shoving the tangle of flesh-coloured string into his pocket just as a smiling, red-headed woman appeared at the door.

"The meeting's over so you can come down and have dinner now," she beamed kindly at the demigods, "Hello, dears. I'm Ron's mother. We met last year but you might not remember me. Come on, you must all be starving!"

Nico followed the others down the stairs, one hand in Will's and the other skimming the grimy banister. The gloomy hallway was packed with wizards and witches who cast sideways looks at them as they passed, and he felt his stomach clench… How were they ever going to be able to convince all these people they were on the same side?

Will seemed to sense what was wrong, "We can do this," he whispered encouragingly.

"We better," he replied. He thought it would be pessimistic to add, "Or Percy dies."

A large cauldron of stew, an iron flagon of Butterbeer and a heavy breadboard, complete with a fresh-baked loaf, were waiting for them on the kitchen table. Despite the less-than-cheery surroundings, the atmosphere was merry, and Nico felt rather out of place at the table, surrounded by friends who had known eachother for years.

I don't fit in, he thought sarcastically, What else is new?

At least he wasn't the only one. Across the table, Percy was shovelling food into his mouth even faster than usual in an effort to escape conversation, though a snub-nosed, pink-haired witch seemed to be doing her best to involve them.

"Wotcher, I'm Tonks!" she grinned, "I've heard so much about you guys!"

Nico smiled politely as she matched faces with names he knew he wouldn't remember. Annabeth was talking with Lupin and Moody – the real Mad-Eye, not the Death Eater who'd taught at Hogwarts last year – about the upcoming war.

"What's the status?" she asked.

The surrounding adults exchanged glances. Moody said, "That's not really-"

"Annabeth's a brilliant strategician," Percy said quietly, "You'd be crazy not to involve her."

"Is she now?" Moody cocked an overgrown eyebrow, "And what about you?"

"Alastor-"

"I'm serious," he unclipped a flask from his belt and took a swig, "The girl may be a genius, but she's connected to you and you're a security risk – and that makes her one too. And your friends."

Will's brow puckered like it did when he was annoyed, "Hey, we just want to help!"

"Will, it's okay," said Percy. He looked down at the table, but Nico could swear he saw him smirk, "He's right."

Moody opened his mouth to retort but was interrupted when his flask exploded, splattering pumpkin juice down his front. Astonished eyes turned to Percy.

"Sorry," he didn't sound very sorry, "Sometimes, that just… happens."

Moody wiped juice from his grizzled beard, "You lose control often?"

"Only around people I don't like," Percy answered evenly. Fred whistled under his breath. On Nico's left, Will choked on his Butterbeer.

"Time for bed," Remus said quickly, "Don't you think, Molly?"

"Good idea!" she answered, ushering them away from the table, "You must be exhausted, all of you, and we'll have to be up early tomorrow to go to Diagon Alley!"

Once they were safely out of the kitchen, Annabeth slapped Percy's arm, "That was irresponsible!"

"That was awesome!" cried Tonks, wide-eyed, following them into the hallway, "Can you teach me to do that?"

Nico grinned. Maybe the Order of the Phoenix wasn't so bad, after all.

Percy's POV

Percy lay awake on the sofa, watching the moon through the moth-eaten curtains. He was sharing the study with Nico and Will, a grand-ceilinged chamber with heavy drapes covering the pockmarked, plaster walls and gilded portraits that whispered in the dark.

He knew he should sleep but he couldn't… Each time he tried, the thought of his mom, pregnant and imprisoned, wrenched him awake again and he knew there was only one person who could make him feel better. Sighing, he threw off the blanket and tiptoed carefully around Nico and Will who lay, cuddling, on the floor. The carpet exhaled small clouds of dust where he stepped which swirled in the moonlight as he crossed the room and slipped out of the door into the hallway.

The house was sleeping, but Percy couldn't shake his sense of unease as he felt his way up the stairs. Annabeth was in a room on the third floor with Hermione and Ginny, but as he approached the first landing, he heard noises. Someone was sobbing in the drawing room.

"Hello?" he knocked tentatively on the door. No answer. He tried again, "Are you okay in there?"

He had a sudden, horrible vision of Annabeth, crying alone inside; had she had another nightmare? He threw open the door.

Annabeth wasn't inside. Instead, Mrs Weasley was cowered against the far wall, wand in hand, whole body shaking with sobs. Sprawled on the dusty old carpet, in a patch of bright moonlight, clearly dead, was Ron.

"Oh, my gods," Percy whispered, falling to his knees beside him. He looked up at Mrs Weasley's tearstained face, "What happe-" he looked down, but Ron had vanished. In his place, her neck bent a lethal angle, was Annabeth.

"No…"

All the air seemed to vanish from Percy's lungs; he felt as though he were falling through the floor. Annabeth dead – it couldn't be…

"Percy?"

He turned. Silhouetted against the light from the hallway, was… Annabeth. Behind her, stood Hermione and Ginny.

"What?"

Hermione pushed past Annabeth to stand in front of Percy. Annabeth's corpse, which had now been joined with his mother and Paul's, was replaced by a stack of test papers, each stamped with a large, red D.

"Riddikulus," Hermione said, very firmly and clearly, and the exams folded themselves into paper planes and flew away.

"O-oh, Percy," moaned Mrs Weasley, "I-I'm so s-sorry. I'm j-just b-being silly…"

"It's okay, mum," Ginny said, wrapping her arms around her.

"Half the f-family's in the Order, it'll b-b-be a miracle if we all make it through this," she whimpered, "and P-Percy's not talking to us… W-what if something t-terrible happens and we've never m-made up?"

Annabeth helped him stand up, "What were you doing up here?" she asked softly.

"Looking for you," he stared at his feet, "I couldn't sleep."

She glanced over at Hermione and Ginny, but they weren't paying them any attention, busy comforting the still-distraught Mrs Weasley, "Want me to come back to bed with you?"

He nodded.

They walked downstairs in silence and she lay on the sofa with him, her cheek resting on his chest.

"It's okay," she murmured, "I'm right here."

He swallowed, his eyes fixed on the dusty chandelier, "I couldn't bare it if something happened to you."

"Nothing's going to happen to me."

"How can you know that?"

"Percy," she gazed up at him seriously, "Nothing's going to happen to me. Now, go to sleep."

He closed his eyes obediently, but his mind was in turmoil. He knew he was putting her in danger by dragging her into his mess… Nico and Will, as well.

"Annabeth…" he said, chokingly.

"I'm fine, Percy," she whispered, and he felt himself relax. Annabeth's body was warm against his and the scent of her shampoo filled his nose… "Go to sleep."

And he did.