A/N: Yes, I'm finally updating! Happy President's day!
Chapter 4
The twins tried to make light of the situation.
"For future reference, I would like daffodils on my coffin." Fred announced.
George spoke in a mock falsetto voice. "Oh yes! Hot pink daffodils would be perfect!"
They smirked at each other.
Sirius looked impatient.
"I think it's my turn to read." He said, smirking slightly at his cousin as Hermione handed over the book without protest.
Harry felt numb. He tried to shake it off. Why was he feeling so worried? Those three old ladies couldn't possibly be the fates, could they? Then again, stranger things have happened.
"Grover Unexpectedly Loses his Pants,"
Everyone exchanged looks and broke out into spontaneous laughter.
"Grover…-pants?" Fred gasped out.
Harry wrapped his arms around his stomach and shook his head, laughing too hard to respond. He had no idea what was happening in this chapter, but these names so far were hilarious.
Sirius snorted a couple more times, before waving his hands to quiet the rest of the group.
"As much as I like these….amusing chapter titles, we have to finish this book sometime in the foreseeable future."
Harry smiled and then nodded, along with most of the people in the room.
Confession time: I ditched Grover as soon as we got to the bus terminal.
Ginny groaned. "He's trying to protect you, you dolt!"
"Ginny, you realize-"
"-that you're talking to a book."
The twins gave their signature crooked grins and Ginny grumbled under her breath about throttling older brothers.
I know, I know. It was rude.
"Yes it was." Hermione pursed her lips and Mrs. Weasley frowned disapprovingly.
But Grover was freaking me out, looking at me like I was a dead man, muttering "Why does this always happen?" and "Why does it always have to be sixth grade?"
"That would be freaky." Harry conceded, though inside he wondered if he would do the same if Ron thought he was going to die.
Whenever he got upset, Grover's bladder acted up, so I wasn't surprised when, as soon as we got off the bus, he made me promise to wait for him, then made a beeline for the restroom.
Now it was Remus's turn to frown.
Instead of waiting, I got my suitcase, slipped outside, and caught the first taxi uptown.
"East One-hundred-and-fourth and First," I told the driver.
"We know where he lives!" Fred and George chortled. "Now we can go visit him!"
Mrs. Weasley gave them a very stern glare and they seemed to rethink their plan of action.
A word about my mother, before you meet her.
Her name is Sally Jackson and she's the best person in the world,
Mrs. Weasley smiled.
Harry was overcome by a slight pang of sadness, wishing he could remember his own mother. Sirius saw his fallen face and gave a sympathetic smile.
Harry replied with his own soft smile. At least he had his godfather.
which just proves my theory that the best people have the rottenest luck.
Mrs. Weasley's smile fell and Hermione looked worried.
Ginny was quiet for a moment before speaking up. "I agree with Percy, the best people have the worst luck."
Harry swore she was looking straight at him. He felt like his face was on fire.
Sirius, despite the situation, smirked at him before reading again.
Her own parents died in a plane crash when she was five, and she was raised by an uncle who didn't care much about her.
"That's eerily similar to what my life was like before Hogwarts." Harry said.
She wanted to be a novelist, so she spent high school working to save enough money for a college with a good creative-writing program. Then her uncle got cancer, and she had to quit school her senior year to take care of him. After he died, she was left with no money, no family, and no diploma.
"That's so sad." Hermione said. Tonks nodded in agreement.
The only good break she ever got was meeting my dad.
smiled at her husband and Tonks shoot a discrete look at Remus.
Ginny tilted her head ever so slightly to the right in a curious expression. "I wonder why he hasn't mentioned his dad before."
Harry shrugged.
I don't have any memories of him, just this sort of warm glow, maybe the barest trace of his smile. My mom doesn't like to talk about him because it makes her sad. She has no pictures.
"Oh." Ginny bit her lip.
Harry suddenly felt depressed. How many people without parents were there?
See, they weren't married. She told me he was rich and important, and their relationship was a secret. Then one day, he set sail across the Atlantic on some important journey, and he never came back.
"He might still be alive." Tonks said weakly.
"If his is, he abandoned Percy." Harry snarled. He felt a rush of anger at this man who he'd never met. What kind of person just abandons their own child?
"We don't know that." Mr. Weasley told him quietly. "There could be extenuating circumstances that won't allow him to be there."
Harry nodded reluctantly.
Lost at sea, my mom told me. Not dead. Lost at sea.
"Wait," Ginny scrunched her forehead like she was having a brain freeze. "How can someone be lost at sea, but not dead? Isn't that what lost at sea means?"
"He could be stuck on an island in the middle of nowhere, but that's highly unlikely." Remus said, half-jokingly.
She worked odd jobs, took night classes to get her high school diploma, and raised me on her own. She never complained or got mad. Not even once.
"Wow." Ron said, looking shocked. The twins just gaped at the book, mouths open like fishes.
"She must have some restraint." Mrs. Weasley said
But I knew I wasn't an easy kid.
Finally, she married Gabe Ugliano, who was nice the first thirty seconds we knew him, then showed his true colors as a world-class jerk.
"That doesn't sound too good." Hermione said worriedly and Harry nodded in agreement.
When I was young, I nick named him Smelly Gabe.
Tonks gave an unladylike snort and Sirius hid his smile.
I'm sorry, but it's the truth. The guy reeked like moldy garlic pizza wrapped in gym shorts.
Hermione and Ginny crinkled their noses and Tonks had a tinge of green in her cheeks.
Between the two of us, we made my mom's life pretty hard. The way Smelly Gabe treated her, the way he and I got along ... well, when I came home is a good example.
I walked into our little apartment, hoping my mom would be home from work. Instead, Smelly Gabe was in the living room, playing poker with his buddies.
"What's poker?" Ginny asked curiously.
"Muggle gambling game." Hermione informed her, tone stating that she disapproved strongly of it.
The television blared ESPN. Chips and beer cans were strewn all over the carpet.
"That's disgusting!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed.
Hardly looking up, he said around his cigar, "So, you're home."
Ron scrunched his nose. "Wonderful welcome, that is." He said sarcastically.
"Where's my mom?"
"Working," he said. "You got any cash?"
"He's asking a child for money?" Mrs. Weasley did not look happy.
Harry frowned. So far, he hated Smelly Gabe.
That was it. No Welcome back. Good to see you. How has your life been the last six months?
"Probably would have died of shock if that would have happened." George said, trying to keep everyone's spirits up.
Gabe had put on weight. He looked like a tuskless walrus in thrift-store clothes. He had about three hairs on his head, all combed over his bald scalp, as if that made him handsome or something.
Tonks looked down at the book in clear revulsion, though Harry was pretty sure it was directed at the character in it.
He managed the Electronics Mega-Mart in Queens, but he stayed home most of the time. I don't know why he hadn't been fired long before. He just kept on collecting paychecks, spending the money on cigars that made me nauseous, and on beer, of course. Always beer.
"This doesn't sound good at all." Hermione frowned, concerned.
Whenever I was home, he expected me to provide his gambling funds.
Mrs. Weasley grumbled something about horrible muggles and innocent children.
He called that our "guy secret." Meaning, if I told my mom, he would punch my lights out.
"What?" Mrs. Weasley shrieked, face red and Harry covered his ears. Everyone looked furious.
"Threatening a child-why I'd never-" Mrs. Weasley stuttered, to upset to form complete sentences.
"That foul beastly man." Ginny declared.
Harry was torn between angry and worry. He shuddered to think of when the Weasleys and Sirius heard the Dursley had done a bit more that threaten Harry. It wouldn't be pretty.
"I don't have any cash," I told him.
"Yes, lie!" The twins encouraged and for once in a billion years Mrs. Weasley didn't scold them for it.
He raised a greasy eyebrow.
Gabe could sniff out money like a bloodhound, which was surprising, since his own smell should've covered up everything else.
"You took a taxi from the bus station," he said. "Probably paid with a twenty. Got six, seven bucks in change. Somebody expects to live under this roof, he ought to carry his own weight. Am I right, Eddie?"
"But he's a child!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed again.
"Bet Gabe can't even carry himself up the stairs." Fred muttered darkly.
Eddie, the super of the apartment building, looked at me with a twinge of sympathy.
"Come on, Gabe," he said. "The kid just got here."
"At least someone cares."Tonks pointed out.
"Not much. He said 'the kid just got here.' That means he doesn't care later on." Harry said bitterly, remembering some of his uncle's friend who only cared once every blue moon.
Sirius stared at him for a moment, worried about his knowing tone, before returning to the book, promising himself he would ask later.
"Am I right?" Gabe repeated.
Eddie scowled into his bowl of pretzels. The other two guys passed gas in harmony.
"Gross." Tonks said.
Yes, Harry thought darkly, it must be amusing to some people how similar our lives are.
"Fine," I said. I dug a wad of dollars out of my pocket and threw the money on the table. "I hope you lose."
"I hope he does too!" Ginny stated, eyes blazing.
The table nodded in agreement.
"Your report card came, brain boy!" he shouted after me. "I wouldn't act so snooty!"
"I bet he doesn't know the definition of the word 'snooty'" Hermione said through pursed lips.
I slammed the door to my room, which really wasn't my room. During school months, it was Gabe's "study." He didn't study anything in there except old car magazines, but he loved shoving my stuff in the closet, leaving his muddy boots on my windowsill, and doing his best to make the place smell like his nasty cologne and cigars and stale beer.
"What kind of mother would allow that?" Mrs. Weasley asked reproachfully.
Harry didn't think Percy's mother would allow it, judging by her description, but didn't say anything.
I dropped my suitcase on the bed. Home sweet home.
"That's so sad." Tonks said mournfully and Remus, who was sitting next to her, put a comforting arm around her shoulders. She gave him a small grateful smile.
Gabe's smell was almost worse than the nightmares about Mrs. Dodds, or the sound of that old fruit lady's shears snipping the yarn.
The room tensed. It was easy to tell they didn't like the reminder.
But as soon as I thought that, my legs felt weak. I remembered Grover's look of panic—how he'd made me promise I wouldn't go home without him. A sudden chill rolled through me. I felt like someone—something—was looking for me right now, maybe pounding its way up the stairs, growing long, horrible talons.
Harry caught his breath and clenched his hands into fists in his lap. Harry was familiar with that feeling. He'd had it most of his miserable life, and learned to ignore it for the most part, but thinking about it brought it the forefront of his mind.
Then I heard my mom's voice. "Percy?"
She opened the bedroom door, and my fears melted.
My mother can make me feel good just by walking into the room.
Mrs. Weasley smiled softly at his words.
Her eyes sparkle and change color in the light. Her smile is as warm as a quilt. She's got a few gray streaks mixed in with her long brown hair, but I never think of her as old. When she looks at me, it's like she's seeing all the good things about me, none of the bad.
"That's the way it should be." Mrs. Weasley said, quietly approving.
I've never heard her raise her voice or say an unkind word to anyone, not even me or Gabe.
"That must have been difficult." Ron said, sounding slightly in shock.
"Oh, Percy." She hugged me tight. "I can't believe it. You've grown since Christmas!"
Fred raised one finger for attention. Harry turned an inch or two to face him.
"Has anyone ever noticed that every single time you come back from a long time away the first thing out of an adult's mouth is 'you've grown since I last saw you'? Even if you haven't?"
"Yah! I mean, you think they'd say something else, but it's all about your height!" Ginny put her two cents in, sounding somewhat grumpy, probably because she was rather short, he guessed.
"Why is that?" Ron asked and all the children suddenly turned to look at the rest of the adults in the room.
"Ummm…it's a secret?" Sirius's answer was more of a question.
Harry raised an eyebrow skeptically.
"You'll understand when you're older." Mr. Weasley interjected and Sirius nodded rapidly in agreement.
George sighed good-naturedly.
Her red-white-and-blue Sweet on America uniform smelled like the best things in the world: chocolate, licorice, and all the other stuff she sold at the candy shop in Grand Central. She'd brought me a huge bag of "free samples," the way she always did when I came home.
"Awesome." Ron said, starring off in thought, nearly drooling.
"Boys." Hermione shook her head exasperatingly. "Always thinking of their stomachs."
We sat together on the edge of the bed. While I attacked the blueberry sour strings, she ran her hand through my hair and demanded to know everything I hadn't put in my letters. She didn't mention anything about my getting expelled. She didn't seem to care about that. But was I okay? Was her little boy doing all right?
I told her she was smothering me, and to lay off and all that, but secretly, I was really, really glad to see her.
Mrs. Weasley smiled happily and practically cooed.
Ron rolled his eyes and mouthed "Mama's boy" again behind his mother's back.
Harry hid a sad smile.
From the other room, Gabe yelled, "Hey, Sally—how about some bean dip, huh?"
Harry gritted his teeth, along with most of the room.
I gritted my teeth.
Harry smiled inwardly at the similarity between their actions.
My mom is the nicest lady in the world. She should've been married to a millionaire, not to some jerk like Gabe.
For her sake, I tried to sound upbeat about my last days at Yancy Academy. I told her I wasn't too down about the expulsion. I'd lasted almost the whole year this time.
"That's kind of depressing that he's that happy about lasting almost a whole year." Tonks said.
I'd made some new friends. I'd done pretty well in Latin. And honestly, the fights hadn't been as bad as the headmaster said. I liked Yancy Academy. I really did. I put such a good spin on the year, I almost convinced myself.
I started choking up, thinking about Grover and Mr. Brunner. Even Nancy Bobofit suddenly didn't seem so bad.
"That must have been a really good spin." Harry said disbelievingly.
Until that trip to the museum...
"What?" my mom asked. Her eyes tugged at my conscience, trying to pull out the secrets. "Did something scare you?"
"No, Mom."
Mrs. Weasley frowned disapprovingly. "He should tell her the truth; she might be able to help."
I felt bad lying. I wanted to tell her about Mrs. Dodds and the three old ladies with the yarn, but I thought it would sound stupid.
Harry understood that. He didn't want to upset the one person in the world who cared about him.
She pursed her lips. She knew I was holding back, but she didn't push me.
"I have a surprise for you," she said. "We're going to the beach."
My eyes widened. "Montauk?"
"Three nights—same cabin."
"When?"
She smiled. "As soon as I get changed."
I couldn't believe it. My mom and I hadn't been to Montauk the last two summers, because Gabe said there wasn't enough money.
"Enough money for gambling, but not for a trip to the beach?" Mr. Weasley growled.
Gabe appeared in the doorway and growled, "Bean dip, Sally? Didn't you hear me?"
Harry gritted his teeth again and squeezed the side of his chair, hard, to release some of his utter revulsion for this man.
I wanted to punch him, but I met my mom's eyes and I understood she was offering me a deal: be nice to Gabe for a little while. Just until she was ready to leave for Montauk. Then we would get out of here.
Mrs. Weasley now looked very concerned. "She doesn't want to be near him either. Why not just divorce him and get away from him?"
Harry knew what everyone else was thinking: What if he was threatening her too?
"I was on my way, honey," she told Gabe. "We were just talking about the trip."
Gabe's eyes got small. "The trip? You mean you were serious about that?"
Harry glared at the book. "He'd better let them go."
"I knew it," I muttered. "He won't let us go."
"Of course he will," my mom said evenly. "Your step father is just worried about money. That's all.
"Worried about money, my-Ronald Weasley!" Ron's mother interrupted him.
Besides," she added, "Gabriel won't have to settle for bean dip. I'll make him enough seven-layer dip for the whole weekend. Guacamole. Sour cream. The works."
"Bribery." Sirius said, but he didn't sound too upset about this.
Gabe softened a bit. "So this money for your trip ... it comes out of your clothes budget, right?"
"Yes, honey," my mother said.
"Making her pay for the trip!" Mrs. Weasley fumed.
"And you won't take my car anywhere but there and back."
"We'll be very careful."
Gabe scratched his double chin. "Maybe if you hurry with that seven-layer dip ... And maybe if the kid apologizes for interrupting my poker game."
Maybe if I kick you in your soft spot, I thought. And make you sing soprano for a week.
Fred and George's eyes grew wide. "Do it!"
Harry didn't think of himself as a violent person, but if Gabe was here right now, he would punch him in the gut.
But my mom's eyes warned me not to make him mad.
"Why does she care?" Harry muttered to himself.
Why did she put up with this guy? I wanted to scream. Why did she care what he thought?
"That's what I want to know." Mrs. Weasley huffed.
"I'm sorry," I muttered. "I'm really sorry I interrupted your incredibly important poker game. Please go back to it right now."
Hermione groaned. "Being sarcastic right now isn't going to help you."
Gabe's eyes narrowed. His tiny brain was probably trying to detect sarcasm in my statement.
"How could you not detect sarcasm in that statement?"
"Yeah, whatever," he decided.
"What?" Tonks asked, shocked that someone could be that stupid.
He went back to his game.
"Thank you, Percy," my mom said. "Once we get to Montauk, we'll talk more about... whatever you've forgotten to tell me, okay?"
For a moment, I thought I saw anxiety in her eyes—the same fear I'd seen in Grover during the bus ride—as if my mom too felt an odd chill in the air.
Harry shivered. In all the excitement about Gabe, he'd nearly forgotten about leaving Grover at the bus stop.
"She knows." Remus said surely.
"Then why doesn't she tell Percy? Why keep it from him?" Tonks asked, frustrated.
"Maybe because they're not old enough to know." Mrs. Weasley stated clearly, and everyone could hear the underlying message. They were still going on about that argument whether or not to inform Harry about what was happening. Harry, of course, thought he should be told on the spot and he wasn't the only one.
"He has a right to know what's happening in his life!" Sirius exclaimed.
Mrs. Weasley opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by Kingsley.
"Enough! We need to finish this book! You can continue your squabbling later, after we're done."
He fixed them both with a stern look. Harry bit his lip to keep from laughing at his godfather's pout.
But then her smile returned, and I figured I must have been mistaken. She ruffled my hair and went to make Gabe his seven-layer dip.
An hour later we were ready to leave.
"Good, get out of there." Tonks said.
Gabe took a break from his poker game long enough to watch me lug my mom's bags to the car. He kept griping and groaning about losing her cooking—and more important, his '78 Camaro—for the whole weekend.
"More important than her?" Mrs. Weasley momentarily forgot her argument with Sirius to glare at the book in anger.
"Not a scratch on this car, brain boy," he warned me as I loaded the last bag. "Not one little scratch."
"How is he going to scratch it? He doesn't even have a permit!" Hermione frowned.
Like I'd be the one driving.
I was twelve. But that didn't matter to Gabe. If a seagull so much as pooped on his paint job, he'd find a way to blame me.
Hermione let out a "Hmph!" and sat back in her chair with her arms crossed.
Watching him lumber back toward the apartment building, I got so mad I did something I can't explain. As Gabe reached the doorway, I made the hand gesture I'd seen Grover make on the bus, a sort of warding-off-evil gesture, a clawed hand over my heart, then a shoving movement toward Gabe.
"How did he even remember that?" Ron asked.
Harry shrugged.
The screen door slammed shut so hard it whacked him in the butt and sent him flying up the stair case as if he'd been shot from a cannon.
"What?" Remus asked confusedly.
"I'm not sure." Mr. Weasley said slowly, as if thinking over all of the possible reasons. Harry knew Hermione was doing the same, but didn't seem to come up with anything.
"More magical powers?" He ventured.
"Possibly." She conceded.
Maybe it was just the wind, or some freak accident with the hinges, but I didn't stay long enough to find out.
I got in the Camaro and told my mom to step on it.
"Get away from the crime scene as fast as possible so they can't implicate you." Fred said in a false scholarly tone, like he was educating us on the esteemed principles of pranking.
Mrs. Weasley threw another stern glare in their direction and he dropped his act.
Our rental cabin was on the south shore, way out at the tip of Long Island. It was a little pastel box with faded curtains, half sunken into the dunes. There was always sand in the sheets and spiders in the cabinets,
Ron shuddered.
"Oh, is ickle Ronikins scared of spiders?" The twins mocked.
Ron's face turned scarlet and he glared at his teasing brothers.
and most of the time the sea was too cold to swim in.
"Why would you want to go then?" Ginny asked.
I loved the place.
Ginny threw her hands up in the air like 'ok then.' Harry smiled at her.
We'd been going there since I was a baby. My mom had been going even longer. She never exactly said, but I knew why the beach was special to her. It was the place where she'd met my dad.
As we got closer to Montauk, she seemed to grow younger, years of worry and work disappearing from her face. Her eyes turned the color of the sea.
We got there at sunset, opened all the cabin's windows, and went through our usual cleaning routine. We walked on the beach, fed blue corn chips to the seagulls, and munched on blue jelly beans, blue saltwater taffy, and all the other free samples my mom had brought from work.
"What's up with the blue food? The candy earlier was blue too." Sirius asked.
"I'm guessing blue is his favorite color?" Harry guessed.
I guess I should explain the blue food.
"Yes, you should." Sirius told the book and Tonks hid her laughter at the tone her cousin was taking with a book.
See, Gabe had once told my mom there was no such thing.
Tonks opened her mouth, stopped herself, and shook her head. It just wasn't worth it.
They had this fight, which seemed like a really small thing at the time. But ever since, my mom went out of her way to eat blue. She baked blue birthday cakes. She mixed blueberry smoothies. She bought blue-corn tortilla chips and brought home blue candy from the shop. This—along with keeping her maiden name, Jackson, rather than calling herself Mrs. Ugliano
Hermione shuddered at the thought of having the last name 'Ugliano.'
—was proof that she wasn't totally suckered by Gabe. She did have a rebellious streak, like me.
When it got dark, we made a fire. We roasted hot dogs and marshmallows. Mom told me stories about when she was a kid, back before her parents died in the plane crash. She told me about the books she wanted to write someday, when she had enough money to quit the candy shop.
"Mrs. Jackson sounds nice." Harry said, eyes shining before his face fell. He wished he could at least remember his own mother.
Eventually, I got up the nerve to ask about what was always on my mind whenever we came to Montauk—my father. Mom's eyes went all misty. I figured she would tell me the same things she always did, but I never got tired of hearing them.
"He was kind, Percy," she said. "Tall, handsome, and powerful. But gentle, too. You have his black hair, you know, and his green eyes."
"Blimey Harry, he sounds like you." Ron said, pointing out yet another similarity, though it wasn't the one plaguing his mind. Harry wanted to know about the prophecy.
Mom fished a blue jelly bean out of her candy bag. "I wish he could see you, Percy. He would be so proud."
I wondered how she could say that. What was so great about me? A dyslexic, hyperactive boy with a D+ report card, kicked out of school for the sixth time in six years.
"Sixth time in six years?" Hermione's eyes were wide.
Harry raised his eyebrows. Even though he had trouble in school, it was never that bad.
"How old was I?" I asked. "I mean ... when he left?"
Harry looked down into his lap. His parents had been killed, but for one of his parents to physically leave you…..Harry wasn't sure which was worse.
She watched the flames. "He was only with me for one summer, Percy. Right here at this beach. This cabin."
"But... he knew me as a baby."
"No, honey. He knew I was expecting a baby, but he never saw you. He had to leave before you were born."
The room was quiet and saddness and sympathy for Percy was almost tangible.
I tried to square that with the fact that I seemed to remember ... something about my father. A warm glow. A smile.
"Wait," Hermione interjected, "if his father didn't see him-then who does he remember?"
Harry frowned. Percy didn't mention anyone else important enough for it to be them, and it certainly wasn't Smelly Gabe.
I had always assumed he knew me as a baby. My mom had never said it outright, but still, I'd felt it must be true. Now, to be told that he'd never even seen me...
I felt angry at my father. Maybe it was stupid, but I resented him for going on that ocean voyage, for not having the guts to marry my mom. He'd left us, and now we were stuck with Smelly Gabe.
Harry felt the same anger coursing through his veins.
"Are you going to send me away again?" I asked her. "To another boarding school?"
"Why doesn't Percy just go to a school nearby? Why does it have to be a boarding school?" Ginny asked and Remus frowned as he considered the question.
"There must be some good reason…..perhaps something to do with that foreign culture?"
She pulled a marshmallow from the fire.
"I don't know, honey." Her voice was heavy. "I think ... I think we'll have to do something."
"Because you don't want me around?"
"Percy!" Mrs. Weasley admonished and by Ron's wincing face it remaindered him just as much as when she used to yell at his older brother.
I regretted the words as soon as they were out.
"Good." Mrs. Weasley huffed and Ginny and Hermione nodded in agreement.
My mom's eyes welled with tears. She took my hand, squeezed it tight. "Oh, Percy, no. I—I have to, honey. For your own good. I have to send you away."
"I'm telling you, she knows." Remus reminded them.
"We heard you the first time." Sirius muttered irritably.
Remus just grinned at his old friend.
Her words reminded me of what Mr. Brunner had said—that it was best for me to leave Yancy.
"Because I'm not normal," I said.
"That's not a bad thing. Everyone is unique." Remus said, taking on his teacher-like air again.
"You say that as if it's a bad thing, Percy. But you don't realize how important you are. I thought Yancy Academy would be far enough away. I thought you'd finally be safe."
"From what?"
"Safe from what?"
Sirius gave a razor thin smirk over the edge of the cover at Tonks who simply rolled her eyes.
She met my eyes, and a flood of memories came back to me—all the weird, scary things that had ever happened to me, some of which I'd tried to forget.
"Like the Kindly One?" Mrs. Weasley asked worriedly.
"It's happened before?" Hermione said at the same time.
During third grade, a man in a black trench coat had stalked me on the playground. When the teachers threatened to call the police, he went away growling, but no one believed me when I told them that under his broad-brimmed hat, the man only had one eye, right in the middle of his head.
Silence.
"Cyclops?"
"They're not supposed to exist." Remus said uncertainly.
"Well apparently they do." Harry said before turning to Hermione. "Do you remember anything about Cyclops in the Greek myths?"
Hermione nodded. "Not much, but I know they existed in them."
"More and more evidence towards the Greek theory." Sirius noted before continuing reading.
Before that—a really early memory. I was in preschool, and a teacher accidentally put me down for a nap in a cot that a snake had slithered into. My mom screamed when she came to pick me up and found me playing with a limp, scaly rope I'd somehow managed to strangle to death with my meaty toddler hands.
George opened his mouth to comment, then closed it, then looked up again before giving up. This had to be the first time Harry knew of that one of the twins was at a loss for words.
Hermione meanwhile seemed to be concentrating all of her attention on one spot in the distance.
"I think….that might have been another Greek myth as well."
"Really?"
"Yes, I seem to vaguely remember a story where a child was attacked by snakes and he killed them."
"Did they say why?"
""They were sent by someone…" Hermione frowned at the table. "Why can't I remember?"
In every single school, something creepy had happened, something unsafe, and I was forced to move.
I knew I should tell my mom about the old ladies at the fruit stand, and Mrs. Dodds at the art museum, about my weird hallucination that I had sliced my math teacher into dust with a sword. But I couldn't make myself tell her. I had a strange feeling the news would end our trip to Montauk, and I didn't want that.
"But you could be in danger!"
"I've tried to keep you as close to me as I could," my mom said. "They told me that was a mistake. But there's only one other option, Percy—the place your father wanted to send you. And I just... I just can't stand to do it."
"Who's 'they?' And why would Percy's dad want him to go to this certain place?"
"My father wanted me to go to a special school?"
"Not a school," she said softly. "A summer camp."
My head was spinning. Why would my dad—who hadn't even stayed around long enough to see me born— talk to my mom about a summer camp? And if it was so important, why hadn't she ever mentioned it before?
Kingsley frowned. "That is mighty suspicious."
"I'm sorry, Percy," she said, seeing the look in my eyes. "But I can't talk about it. I—I couldn't send you to that place. It might mean saying good-bye to you for good."
"Why?" Harry was getting impatient with this book. Why couldn't anyone just tell you the answer outright?
"For good? But if it's only a summer camp ..."
She turned toward the fire, and I knew from her expression that if I asked her any more questions she would start to cry.
"Women." Ron stated with his nose up in the air. "Using their tears against you!"
Hermione answered by whacking him across the back of his head.
That night I had a vivid dream.
Harry frowned, the dreams kept getting more and more vivid…..
It was storming on the beach, and two beautiful animals, a white horse and a golden eagle, were trying to kill each other at the edge of the surf.
Hermione gasped. "Don't you see? It's symbolic! Each of the Greek gods had a symbol...Oh why can't I remember?"
Harry frowned. It wasn't like Hermione to forget something, even the random stuff they learned in grade school.
The eagle swooped down and slashed the horse's muzzle with its huge talons. The horse reared up and kicked at the eagles wings. As they fought, the ground rumbled, and a monstrous voice chuckled somewhere beneath the earth, goading the animals to fight harder.
The room seemed to shake as everyone collectively shivered.
I ran toward them, knowing I had to stop them from killing each other, but I was running in slow motion. I knew I would be too late. I saw the eagle dive down, its beak aimed at the horse's wide eyes, and I screamed, No!
I woke with a start.
"Thank goodness."
Outside, it really was storming, the kind of storm that cracks trees and blows down houses. There was no horse or eagle on the beach, just lightning making false daylight, and twenty-foot waves pounding the dunes like artillery.
Harry frowned. Something told him this wasn't just a coincidence.
With the next thunderclap, my mom woke. She sat up, eyes wide, and said,
"Hurricane."
Sirius read the word and his eyes widened.
"Oh no." Tonks whispered.
They're heard of the damage a hurricane could wreck.
I knew that was crazy. Long Island never sees hurricanes this early in the summer. But the ocean seemed to have forgotten.
Over the roar of the wind, I heard a distant bellow, an angry, tortured sound that made my hair stand on end.
No one wanted to break the tense silence, shifting over the room like a cloak.
Then a much closer noise, like mallets in the sand. A desperate voice—someone yelling, pounding on our cabin door.
Harry was reminded very much of his eleventh birthday.
My mother sprang out of bed in her nightgown and threw open the lock.
Grover stood framed in the doorway against a backdrop of pouring rain. But he wasn't... he wasn't exactly Grover.
"Not exactly Grover?" Mr. Weasley's brow furrowed.
"Searching all night," he gasped. "What were you thinking?"
My mother looked at me in terror—not scared of Grover, but of why he'd come.
"Why would she be scared of Grover?"
"Percy," she said, shouting to be heard over the rain. "What happened at school? What didn't you tell me?"
I was frozen, looking at Grover. I couldn't understand what I was seeing.
"What are you seeing? Please describe!" Ginny shouted impatiently and Harry had half a mind to do the same.
"O Zeus kai alloi theoi!" he yelled. "It's right behind me! Didn't you tell her?"
"What's right behind him?"
"What language was that?"
Sirius glared down at the other people. "Just wait and the book will tell you!"
I was too shocked to register that he'd just cursed in Ancient Greek, and I'd understood him perfectly.
"See?" Sirius looked smug.
"READ!" The table shouted.
Sirius grumbled but continued.
I was too shocked to wonder how Grover had gotten here by himself in the middle of the night. Because Grover didn't have his pants on—
"Whoa."
and where his legs should be ... where his legs should be ...
"Please just tell us."
My mom looked at me sternly and talked in a tone she'd never used before: "Percy. Tell me now!"
I stammered something about the old ladies at the fruit stand, and Mrs. Dodds, and my mom stared at me, her face deathly pale in the flashes of lightning.
She grabbed her purse, tossed me my rain jacket, and said, "Get to the car. Both of you. Go!"
"Where are they going?"
Grover ran for the Camaro—but he wasn't running, exactly. He was trotting, shaking his shaggy hindquarters, and suddenly his story about a muscular disorder in his legs made sense to me. I understood how he could run so fast and still limp when he walked.
"How?" Ginny asked to no one.
Because where his feet should be, there were no feet. There were cloven hooves.
A/N: Cliffhanger!-not really, but close enough. Special thanks to those who pmed me about updating! This is for you! REVIEW!