I cordially give you permission to rant at me... I haven't updated in over half a year... HALF A YEAR! (8 months, to be more exact) I am sooooooo sorry, and even though no excuse can make up for this loss, some of this chapter was deleted and I kinda got mad at it and lost my spirit. That being said, I shouldered through and wrote this SUPER long chapter — 8,049+ words, which is double my largest chapter on this site ever. I hope it makes up for some of the wait, because it is basically two chapters crammed into one.
R&R PLEASE I want to get to one hundred reviews on this chapter...
You are almost as Awesome as Percy Jackson,
Chapter 7
In the depths of a great forest sat man on a fallen log. While not visibly old, if one was to look straight into his charcoal eyes they would notice an age impossible to achieve by mortal means. His hair was black, and his eyes like slate, cutting and sharp. His robes were silken purple, laced with golden edges that hid a badly burnt hand, which in turn respectively hid a gnarled wand. Standing across from him was a beautiful woman who was visibly shaking with fear. She had dyed brown hair and vivid eyes that darted around worriedly for fear of the unspoken, fear of the reckless.
The third woman was absolutely breathtaking, wrapped in royal garb she looked like a queen herself — she was a queen. Her eyes were slanted ice cycles like those of a cat, and while looked sly and cunning also held unspeakable warmth for humanity. She seemed to be the core of all magic, and not one could defeat her — for she was destruction itself… Safety, danger, she was all.
The two women, while not visibly identical, were that of in spirit, not counting moral values. They were fierce and protective; they were lionesses that cared not, but for their cubs.
"I can assure you, the boy will survive." The man said, a twinkle in his indefinitely cold cornea. "Lumos!" He cried, and an orb of light glowed above them both, he adjusted the enchantment to give off heat, for the breezes were strong and the gales thick.
The second woman nodded in affirmation, "I have read the signs in the stars, your son will live longer than the Dog Star."
The woman nodded carefully, taking it as a good omen. "What about the other one? My heart goes out to all who suffer… All whose destiny encompasses them." The first woman said, protectively.
"So you know about them, then." The old man lost his smile, lost everything about him that made one feel protected. The artificial light dimmed immensely.
The woman shivered, as if chilled, "They – She – told me about them…" She looks at the other woman, "She said… she said the only way I could ever meet him was to do this… thing." She whispered out the last word.
A thoughtful second passed, "They are correct. Only one… with a magnitude of himself… could withstand the force and destruction it brings."
"And you will pay the ultimate price," the queen said, her eyes reflective of the moon, "There are things worse than death."
"VITAFURANTURA!" A ripping sensation inside the chest, inside the mind, inside the heart of hearts! The most painful thing in the world, like a thousand 'crucio's', like the severing of limbs with a jagged knife, like the heat of a thousand suns it burns, it obliterates, it destroys everything it touches with sores that scream agony with every touch. "MAKE IT STOP!" — suddenly nothing. Everything's black, a peaceful end. But no, blood's everywhere, hands, face, knees… arms… Nothing at all is the same, nothing feels right… Up is down, left is right, good is bad. Pain is music…
Destruction is salvation. The lives lost do not matter.
"I shall loose my soul?" She choked out.
The old man looked at the queen for confirmation, and when nodded said, "Perhaps my dear, unfortunately so in some ways. It will be torn! But you shall be saving two more." He grinned, his teeth flashed in the moonlight. Then like a viper the good mood was staunched. "You are this desperate? You are this selfish?" The old man said, agitated. "You do not care about the other child? This will hurt him more than the pain of you and your child combined!"
Pain… — EVERYWHERE! Death…
She raised her head, defiantly; "They are both my sons, now. I have claimed them both. I will die for them both — it is my destiny."
"So you shall." The old man said, visibly distraught. Then shook his head, like he was having an internal argument, "Bah! What words you speak of! Destiny is only a fool's thing, an idiotic description of what all these urchins who believe sitting back and doing nothing will create progress. There is no such thing as destiny, just as there is no such thing as future!"
"Maybe for you," She lifted her eyes, "But for them, it is what keeps the very fabric of their world together."
They were all silent for a moment, and then burdened with unspoken questions, the brown haired woman couldn't help but ask, "Why did she die?"
The man laughed, "Because I decreed it." He said simply. "There can not be two, there cannot be pair. When one begins, on must end of equal honor. It was her life, or his, and you obviously know which heart weights more on the scale of judgment."
"So why am I not dead, if they are mirrors?" She asked.
"No…" The queen whispered quickly, fearing the outburst. "Hush woman, you know not of what you speak of."
"They are not MIRRORS!" The man lashed out like a whip, "They are nothing alike! And for that you should be grateful like a thousand suns! Besides, your son's price has already been paid, several times over with only the agony of unrequited love." He looked sideways at her, daringly.
"But —"
"Your son has a huge destiny… do not try and give him more, do not make him the hero of a thousand lifetimes. He will only hate you forever. You do not know the way of heroes and villains, you do not know the way of anger and hate. Of fire and Ash." He spoke with sadness unparalleled, as if he actually knew what he was saying.
As if at one point of time, he'd actually carried the weight of the world upon his shoulders alone.
"You have yet to learn the pain of being forgotten — of forgetting." He said, diminished. "But I know, I know better than anyone else. I know… I know…" He said, insane repetition. "I know the truth, and it's terrible. The truth destroys us, and eventually it will destroy every hero, martyr, and savior because yes, the truth does set us free…"
The queen looked up startled, anxiety webbed across her face, "Jonas, you mustn't!"
The man, 'Jonas,' ignored the queen, a grave sin, and continued with his tirade, "But only to a world in which death and destruction reign over every curious soul and push down the heads of those into the water so they cannot take another breath, only to eventually drown in the water of prosecutions."
Percy wasn't sure if the moleskin pouch was bottomless, but it sure darn felt like it. He even (somehow) managed to put his cauldron in the small pouch Histshot gave him for keeping his money, and it fit without seemingly changing the weight at all. He started thinking of all the things he needed to put in there, especially if no one could get into but him…
He'd definitely put the picture of his mother he had incredibly found and snatched out of an old newspaper at Sirius's home, and Annabeth's Camp Half-Blood necklace and magic cap. His eyes quickly fluttered shut as bound memories suddenly swept past his carefully built barriers, and invaded his mind. Images… of hate, anger, longing… Annabeth? Where are you? You promised…
Focus… Focus!
Percy took deep breaths, and counted to ten, something Chiron had suggested with knowing eyes that knew more about death than any others. Percy felt a flash of anger at his old mentor, 'You could have done something!' He wanted to blame the old centaur with every fiber of his being… but he just… couldn't…
Hate is anger… Anger is freedom…
Percy shook his head savagely and started over his process of thought, willing his mind not to wander this time:
He'd definitely put the picture of his mother he had incredibly found and snatched out of an old newspaper at Sirius's home, and Annabeth's Camp Half-Blood necklace and magic cap. He'd already placed inside the weird vial full of magical Mist, and the strange stick thingy with leaves and runes he'd found at the exploded house. He was barely able to place in the four jagged shards of Riptide he had left, thinking of their sentimental value. Unconsciously thinking about his old sword, Percy slid his fingers up to the pendant on his neck, which conveniently turned into the sword Histshot malevolently gave him at Gringotts. He ran his fingers over the pendant, Percy looked at the Gryffindor Lion that had a Slytherin Snake for a tail. Was it just him, or did the entire graphic, Salazar Silver image seem to project: Unity?
It was probably just him.
Percy looked through the glass of the Owl Emporium, watching as Nico started to buy a particular Great Grey (that was verging on the color black) Owl, and Harry showed Leo around, browsing through the smaller breeds and pointing out the Elf Owl and Pygmy Owls which seemed to match Leo's personality.
Thinking back on it, Percy probably should've gotten an owl, but he wasn't particularly fond of them, and he still was cautious that Athena would try something callous and menacing in retribution for his failure at upholding the most important thing in his life so far. Athena kept her grudges, like a true daughter of Zeus, and Percy wasn't ready to face her again after when she'd practically killed him back on Olympus.
So Percy and Frank remained outside, as the other two of the Four shopped like teenage girls. Frank had told Percy his desire to get a toad, which in all honesty seemed incredibly weird to Percy, but he didn't mention any of his clandestine thoughts. Was it possible that they actually had stores devoted to selling young wizards the extremely exciting creature called a t-o-a-d?
It seemed highly unlikely, but if he knew anything about wizards, it was that they weren't quite right in the mind… and that anything was possible.
Percy himself was feeling drawn to a cat; a black, unlucky one was sketched into his mind. He had never had a cat, the Orphanage was quite to small and had quite too many hungry mouths to feed, and he wasn't sure what the experience would be like — raising an animal.
He internally debated for a moment, if he should wait on the others, or go solo to find a potential ally in the harsh world. "Tell the other I'll be back in a moment," he decided, "I know exactly what I'm looking for."
Frank looked solemnly at him, expression never wavering, "Oh-kay, mate. Keep on the lookout for any toad shops."
So they did exist.
Percy jumped from the back of the bench he'd been sitting on, stretching his legs. He ran a hand through his hair, and started down the shadowed lane wondering if anybody was lurking in the shadows. The young demigod wizard passed a dress robes store, a candy store, two toad shops, and many more unusual entrepreneurs. Finally he stopped near a one story, old looking brick building with a flat roof. The sign was small and crummy, with brown stains, and said; The 'Fordible Feline. Which, while just so happening to be an extremely creative name in Percy's opinion, was also the first entire cat shop he'd come across.
He pushed open the door, snatching a gaze upwards as the bell rang, informing the counter man. A huddled form behind the counter lifted its head, and Percy, after noting no cages or cats, took a few steps forward until he was in front of the man.
"Lumos!" The wizard cried, (startling Percy) swiftly pulling out his wand that ever so slowly lightened the room, bringing a multitude of colour into it.
Percy had to suppress a gasp as took in one of the ugliest faces he'd ever seen. A long, crooked nose, two drooping eyes, but what really gave him a terrible appearance was neither of those things; it was the bizarre fangs that curled from the corners of his mouth, and the large forehead with creases that webbed all over his face.
Percy unconsciously took a tiny step back, and then cursed himself quietly. He of all people shouldn't have been so quick to judge a book by its cover!
The man's voice was nothing like the broken, brittle body unfortunately; it was smooth and melodic, like a thousand melted chocolate bars. "Good evening, what can I interest you in?"
Percy was tempted to say, Wrong store, or I just needed to use the latrines, but he scolded himself for even considering it. "A cat… I am starting Hogwart's sixth year, and I would like to buy a cat."
"Ah, so can you pay? I don't do charity — or loans." The man attempted to lift an eyebrow. Attempted.
"Of course," Percy said, slightly offended, "Money is of no issue."
"Then follow me." The man opened a door and led Percy through it, he flicked his wand with an unknown spell, and suddenly there were cages stacked up on top of each other, and two to three cats in a cage! Percy looked around and around at all the cats, while depressed 'meows' sounded in his ears.
He felt a spike of anger at the man for keeping these animals in cooped up, anger at him for obviously not taking well enough care or them. He could count the ribs on every single cat, and even he knew that wasn't a good sign. Percy wasn't brazen enough to swear on the River Styx to someday save them all, but he sure wanted to.
"This is barbaric," Percy told the man.
"They're cats," he scoffed, "they don't care. They provide money when I sell them to beginning wizards, and food when they get old and I hungry." He laughed at his own joke.
Percy felt sick for a moment, "Of course they care!" he gritted his teeth together.
Trying not to dwell on the inhumanity, he browsed through Maine Coon, Siamese, Bengal and other breeds more exotic then the last, finally stopping at a Russian Blue.
This was the first cat to spark his interest to an inordinate level. Her nametag read 10-month-old Russian Blue, sired by the Great and Powerful Oz and her majesty Queen.
Percy had never actually seen the Wizard of Oz, but he was pretty sure the 'wizard' of Oz wasn't a cat — or that the Wizards actually knew what a movie was. Oh well, who was he to judge?
The price seemed lofty, so he pointed to the cat and offered half. And thus the project of debate began between the two stubborn males while the Russian Blue continued to stare at Percy with cool, deep green eyes that mirrored his own.
"No deal," Percy said smoothly when the wizard offered double the original price, then said with heavily lidded eyes to give the appearance of nonchalance, "I am weary of this; I have graciously offered you half, and that is my last offer."
The wizard regarded him coldly, and then smiled with crooked teeth, "No deal."
Percy met his gaze evenly, not having expected the old one to say yes. "Then I'm sorry for you." He had not hardened his heart because he believed the price was unreasonably expensive — it wasn't. Percy himself was being unreasonable for the intention of retribution for both the ill-treated cats. Was he a softy for cats in his heart? Yeah, he guessed, he would have to curb the tendency later; he had to room for weaknesses.
He strolled down another isle, and waited for the moment when the shopkeeper took his hawk-like gaze somewhere else. And then he pounced. Sprinting back to the isle with the Russian Blue, he quickly undid the latch; the cat instinctively knowing what to do climbed up his arm and curled tightly around his neck.
"Stop! Thief! STOP!" The shopkeeper yelled, cursed at Percy in a way he hadn't heard a wizard do yet. He started limping towards them at a respectable rate.
Percy, thoughtful, ran though rows and started unlatching boxes as he went, and as soon as the cat was free knocking the crates on the ground. The old man cussed savagely as he stubbed his toe on one fallen.
The son of none laughed crazily as he saw the chaos around him, laughed at the ludicrous pain on the shopkeepers face. He had a fleeting feeling to burn the building down, but quickly pushed that thought aside, no need to get caught up with power. He reached the door they'd previously come through, and led all the cats outside as the broken shopkeeper drabbled as fast as he could.
Percy opened the exit and ushered the cats outside, before turning back to the old wizard who had tripped on the threshold. He had gotten his wand out and trained directly at Percy's heart, "CRUCIO!"
Percy's blood ran cold for a moment, but some hidden instinct led him to bring up his arm, "Expelliarmus!" He cried, the old wizards eyes widened when Percy cast his wandless spell, and even more so when the ray actually came out of his palm. His left, marked arm started glowing silver softly.
Yeah, that's right, Percy thought, fear me old man.
The two rays met in the center, Percy's immediately overpowering the old wizard's. When the spell reached the wizard's wand, it flew out of his hand; Percy was able to grab it with a save that would've made even the most devout quidditch player proud. He quickly broke the wand in two and threw the pieces on the ground. With a fleeting look around him, he noticed some wizards taking notice of the novice duel, and before any serious pictures or other evidence were taken, Percy apparated back to Frank — just in time. He hadn't noticed the spinning knife trained on his heart.
For a few seconds his pupils remained dilated as if remaining watchful for other threats. Percy then took a second to look back on his actions, was he sorry for the wizard? No, Percy wasn't the least bit sorry. Being sorry was a weakness. Were the gods sorry? Of course not. They couldn't care less about how many lives were lost so long as whatever they desired was accomplished thoroughly and in a timely manor.
Frank suddenly coughed beside him. "So, what happened? I can tell by your facial expression you either made someone angry, or someone made you angry." Frank grinned wryly, "I assume it has something to do with the forty-eight cats escape because a mysterious black haired, green eyed teenager?"
Percy stared, mouth agape, but his jaw touched the floor when Frank pointed at a magical newspaper that caught just enough of his appearance to make him a possible suspect. "That's not possible." He finally got out. "I was there, like, two seconds ago."
"Oh, sure it is," Frank dismissed, "The wizards can do anything."
Great, two days in and I already have a record as a wanted thief. Percy sighed, and tucked the wand in his pouch. Then he realized something: there was a certain black cat bathing at his feet, she lifted her head and purred softly at him.
He felt his heart squeeze painfully as he took in the pitiful creature, so full of life yet completely trusting and helpless — it knew nothing different, as Percy unthinkingly did.
He kneeled by the cat, closer to kitten, really, and in a split decision decided to name her Lily.
He had no idea why, but the name fit, in some extraterrestrial way.
Perhaps as a tribute to Harry, for his dead mother, perhaps a tribute to himself for the loss of his entire world.
As if naming an animal in tribute can make up for everyone who's gone, Percy snorted, but for some unknown reason… he kept the name… the same…
"This is an experience you have to face alone," Harry told the Four, with the air of superiority that can only come from a veteran in the particular area of expertise. "The wand is special, it listens to you and interference is not welcome when your soul connects with something as exciting as liverwort."
"Yes sir, Captain Spiritual!" Leo saluted mockingly. He was standing a little apart from the others, as if cautious, and leaning against the wall of Ollivander's. He was fiddling with four wires, steel wool, and an electromagnet (not that Harry actually knew what that was, he just read the giant label on the giant battery, kudos for process of elimination!) with a light bulb attached. Harry deducted that (somehow) Leo was going to make the light bulb light up. Was that obvious? Probably so.
When Leo's comment finally sunk in, Harry turned an appropriate shade of red, "Sh-shut up!"
"I do not intend on connecting souls with liverwort." Percy then sniffed, offended. "In fact, a good Swedish mushroom connection seems to be of liking."
"Yes," Nico said, drawling, "Because mushrooms share so much in common with your meek, generous personality. A perfect match, really."
"Death Breath." Percy shot.
"Starfish Skull!" Nico slipped in, rather imaginatively.
"If you two will behave for five seconds, I'm going to go in," Frank said, rolling his eyes at the extremely mature nature of the sons of the elder gods. He pushed himself off the brick wall and went into the building with confidence Percy wished he could duplicate.
"Corpse Face," Percy muttered out of the side of his mouth as soon as Frank was out of earshot.
"Leo's awesome." Leo said, looking around in mock innocence, "Who said that?"
Harry stared at them with a bizarre smile on his face, having only met the lot hours ago (and spending most of that time in a bloodthirsty court room); he hadn't had the time to analyze how they acted as a group.
But they didn't act like a group — they acted like a family.
And yeah, Harry himself had the same kind of thing going on with Ron and Hermione, yet with Percy it was completely different. He was the big brother for the other Three, and Harry could only add that fact to the list of things he coveted about Mr. Percy Jackson. Harry himself wanted a big brother, and with Ron and Hermione he would never have that. In fact, he would always be their protector, their big brother figure throughout Hogwarts.
Harry shook his head rapidly. He must've eaten some poisonous mushrooms at dinner last night; Harry was feeling way too sentimental for it to be a normal sensation.
But part of him… couldn't… deny the longing…
"Scar face!" Percy stuck his tongue out (in an extremely mature manor, mind you) and whacked Harry upside the head with the moleskin pouch he'd gotten at Gringotts. It felt like being his with a cauldron — literally. Harry had seen Percy impossibly fit his pewter cauldron in it.
Harry immediately jumped back with a hiss (Not to mention a stinging jaw), "You asked for it, Pure Face!" He said and tackled Percy to the ground, momentarily pushing all worries aside to just be a kid once more.
Percy's bright green eyes popped up in minimal confusion as he fell to the ground, thinking on his feet (Well, not really, more like thinking on his buttocks) he said, "Oh, Harry, you think my face is pure? Is that just another word for divine, like the rest of me?"
"Precisely," Harry rolled his eyes and stood up (lightly kicking Percy in the side), brushing dirt of his jeans. He met the stares of other angry wizards across the lane that were cross at the disturbance the four were creating, they eyed them as one would a piece of molded cheese. "Why do people hate us so much?" Harry lifted his arms in surrender, "Oh, that's right, it's because Percy's here."
As Leo's hands flew on his contraption, he spared a glance at Harry with a raised eyebrow before turning to Percy with a horrified look, "You've corrupted him!"
Nico snorted, "Please, the only thing Percy can corrupt is perfectly good pancakes. I mean seriously, blueberries?"
"Argh!" Percy lifted his hands and almost knocked the hat off a passerby (who glared at him quite surreptitiously), "Can we stop having Percy's Daily Bashing? And for your information, Mr. I–eat–two–grapes–for–breakfast, blueberry pancakes are the best!"
Harry grinned wickedly, "Rubbish, mate! Mrs. Weasley's chocolate pancakes are to die for."
Percy snorted, "You sound like a teenage girl, 'Those chocolate pancakes are, like, to die for!' He said in a really high-pitched voice.
"You're impossible!" Harry said, exasperated.
Percy smiled slyly and put his hands in the air like he couldn't help but (jokingly) get on Harry's nerves.
The four continued to banter as they waited for Frank. Harry watched as all Three of the boys never quite stopped moving, Leo was beating out some tune on his metal contraption that was finished and producing an eerie purple light that gave the lightning scarred boy silent shivers. Nico Di Angelo still gave Harry slight creeps himself; but was currently swaying as he stood, back and forth, side to side yet never close to loosing his balance. And the great Percy Jackson himself was standing serenely, still except for his eyes that darted placidly everywhere… except not. His eyes were sharp hawks, they brooded like emeralds and shot lasers through even the thickest barrier.
Harry wondered why the four were here, what their purpose was. He silently flashed to one of the muggle movies the Dursleys' had watched, the ones where a spy went undercover to destroy their enemy from the inside.
Harry wondered if Percy Jackson and his group was the enemy.
He wondered why he felt so safe around the group.
Harry wondered a lot of things, but more often then not, he only found answers through near death experiences and shocking truths that practically ripped his mind and soul to grizzled shreds.
Frank — 12", Cedar, an earth whisp core, 'good for charms,' Percy thought, Leo — 10", Supple Oak, fire gem core, 'surprisingly heavy,' Nico — Shadewood, core is shadow of the dragoman ice, 'good for necromancers.'
Percy wondered if his wand would sound as cool as Nico's, with the whole 'Shadow of the dragoman ice,' thing going on as he stepped through the lonely threshold into the second shop he'd ventured into alone so far. It was dimly lit, but instead of a supremely ugly man behind the counter their stood an old man who, while looked a little crazed, also had an all around good natured look.
"Hello… I'm Percy Jackson, Sixth Year at Hogwarts… Uh, I need a wand, I guess."
The man correctly preformed an arched eyebrow, "You guess…?"
"Whatever," Percy sighed sullenly, "I just need a wand."
Ollivander pressed his lips into a small smile, before stepping forward to take his arm, ear, and hair length measurements. The man talked gibberish to himself, and then ran off into the long halls off wands to fetch Percy's Swedish Mushroom.
Percy stood dully for a second, suddenly startled when Ollivander shoved a wand box towards his face.
"Try this, Ironwood, dragon heartstring." He said, his eyes brightening when the wand did nothing in Percy's swishing hand. "I do love a challenge," he muttered to himself. He returned with five more boxes precariously stacked on top of each other.
"Ten inch, bamboo, crystalized starlight… Twelve inch, Hawthorne, giant eye… Nine inch, sycamore, everlasting water…" As fast as he was bringing new wands in, he was being shot down. Two wands had immediately started hitting Percy in the head after the initial swish, and one started frantically spraying acid water throughout the shop.
"This isn't working," Percy deadpanned, "I've been in here at least thirty minutes and we're no closer to finding my wand!"
Ollivander suddenly got a gleam in his eye, and Percy understood the look as, "Bingo by darn, I got it!" He ran into the back room and with milky, glassy eyes brought out a metal box, which Percy presumed inside of laid a very special wand. "Percy," he said solemnly, "This is not just any wand… This is the Finnis — the end. The last wand made by Alexio the Great. This wand is over hundreds of years old, passed down through many generations — and finally to me." Ollivander said, "But beware, this wand is cunning, this wand is dangerous." He snapped the box open, and Percy waited curiously for the reveal.
It was a very pretty wand — almost too pretty. It was made of not wood, but a metal Percy could define as Salazar Silver with intricate patterns inlaid with golden slivers. Percy hesitated in picking it up, something, and he didn't know what, felt off about the wand. Almost as if something in his soul begged him not to pick it up… to even touch it…
Annabeth?
He reached out his hand, ever so slightly… and touched the wand.
Percy immediately cried out in pain as it laced down his arm and through his body like a bunch of electrical currents. It felt like something sharp was being fused together, new and fresh yet darker and deadlier. Painfully squeezing his eyes open, to his dismay he realized he was sprawled on the floor clutching his left arm tightly. Ollivander's face was above him, looking alert and worried.
"As soon as you touched it, the wand disappeared," Ollivander made wild gestures with his hands, distraught.
Percy reached up and felt his head for injury, finding nothing he immediately got to his feet.
"I assume that is a rejection of hosts?" Percy said bitterly.
Ollivander did not answer.
With a tight smile Percy asked, "I have something to show you… I found this somewhere, and wanted to know if you anything about it." He dug into his bottomless pouch and got out the willow branch; it's leaves beginning to wither yellow.
Ollivander snatched it up and with a practiced eye critically analyzed it, "Where did you find this?"
Percy lied, "At a lake, the water had brought it to shore, I noticed the weird runes." He could tell that the old wizards didn't believe him, but was thankful that Ollivander didn't press the matter.
Ollivander's face twisted into a small but bright smile, as if he was replaying his fondest memories, "This is a special trinket, my boy."
Percy hedged forwards, "I assumed it was some sort of wand?"
"Yes, there have been several documented cases of this… When a wand's owner dies… The wand may revert dormant to its mother function. In this case — a willow branch." He said, "The runes are an elder language, a spell perhaps to bring back the wand to its former state but is incomprehensible."
"Can you use this to make me a wand?" Percy suddenly blurted out. "Forgive me, that was inappropriate… Instead can you turn this back into it's previous state? I do not wish to use this wand, it is to pure, and I could only taint such a thing." He looked to the ground.
Ollivander's smile froze, then slowly came back as he closed his eyes, acting as if he had not heard the second question answered, "Yes, I am sure she would want you to have this. You are… similar — somehow." Ollivander grasped Percy's hand tightly and marched them to his back office. They stopped in front of a large layout of tools and cores and different types of wood. "You shall have the best wand!" He said, as if guilty that the Finnis had been a failure.
The old wizard stripped off the smaller twigs with a whittling knife, and Percy cautiously noticed how they immediately turned to ashes. Ollivander spared it no glance as he polished the stick with an auburn solution. He used a spell to hollow the inside of the wand and then paused…
"A perfect core is not an easy thing to come by, Mr. Jackson." Ollivander's voice was emotionless, but Percy knew that there was a silent question.
He hesitated, "As said before… I do not wish to use this wand, it is only a décor and a project."
"If you should have this stick be an actuality and not just a myth, it needs a core." Ollivander tapped his foot impatiently. "And I do not have any cores to spare on your project."
Percy winced. What did he have to give the man? He had one thing… No! He would never give that… but there was nothing else… Would Annabeth approve? Percy sighed — Annabeth wouldn't approve a lot of things he did now days. He dug his hand into the bag and drew out a shard of his once mighty blade. Percy slammed it on table with a resounding thump as it stuck in the table.
"Here" Percy said. "Use that."
Ollivander grinned, and ushered him out of the room, saying something incomprehensible.
"Hey! Wait," Percy protested, and then the door closed.
He sighed in defeat, and walked over to a painting of a triangle with a circle at the eye of it. A lone line was draw through the center or the piece and cut it in two. He dismissed it without a thought, and continued to stare into blank space.
At nothingness, at all.
∞§∞
Ollivander handed him the wand in the same box the Finnis had sat in. Percy took it and cradled it, "What are the proportions?'
Ollivander smiled over heavily lidded eyes, he began to walk to his study, "Willow branch, an astounding thirteen inches, core of a celestial bronze, imperial gold, Salazar silver, stygian iron alloy — and a leaf from a sixty-seven leafed-clover. Surprisingly rebellious." And the door shut.
Percy's eyes widened, "How dare you! You messed with me! You knew all along so you stole from me!" He raced up to the door and pounded on it.
With no hesitation from the other side Ollivander said, "I did what I needed to do, demigod… and for that I am sorry."
∞§∞
He stepped out of the shop and winced as his eyes adjusted to the light. He had spent several moments inside the shop testing out his new wand (not to mention wrecking havoc on Ollivander). There was no way he would epically fail in front of his friends as he cast his first spell.
The magic had felt different with a wand, more subdued now that it had a filament to keep track of it's raw potential. Percy wasn't positive, but he actually thought he felt less powerful with the wand — as if the only magic a son of none should only use was the rawest, coarsest magic of them all.
Percy looked up at the faces of his friends, "C'mon."
They left the wand shop and Four got their robes and other necessities as quickly as they could, often sprinting from place to place. Soon they were back to the Weasley's house with all their belongings.
The four stood awkwardly as Mrs. Weasley embraced Harry, but none of them had mothers themselves so they all could understand that which Harry held onto. Subconsciously they all appreciated Mrs. Weasley because of what she did for Harry. How she acted like a mother.
Percy shook his head like a dog, Waaaaaaaay to sentimental.
He stepped forward, "Thank you for letting my friends and I stay at Order's base, it means a lot to us."
Mrs. Weasley's eyes softened, "You're welcome on behalf of the Order, and Percy, you and your friends will always be welcome at my hearth."
"Thank you, ma'am." They said in unison.
Sirius walked in the room, a scowl on his face, "We've been holding the food for you," he grumbled, "I'm hungry."
It was evident to Percy that Sirius was not quite happy that Harry was to go back to Hogwarts. It was comical, really, how much the man's mood changed sour and terse over the week.
"Don't you go feeling guilty!" said Hermione sternly, after Harry had confided some of his feelings to her, Ron, and Percy while they scrubbed out a moldy cupboard on the third floor a few days later. Nico, Frank, and Leo were all fighting bloodgnats downstairs, and the less "skilled" magicians were sent to deal with mold. The gesture was not lost on Percy. "You belong at Hogwarts and Sirius knows it." Hermione continued, "Personally, I think he's being selfish."
"That's a bit harsh, Hermione," said Ron, getting hysterical as a piece of mold began growing on his thumb, "you wouldn't want to be stuck inside this house without company."
Percy laughed at Ron in the comforts of his head, but silently agreed with Hermione, catching her eye. He gave her a subtle nod, Go on… they need to know.
"He'll have company!" said Hermione, barely hesitating. "It's headquarters to the Order of the Phoenix, isn't it? He just got his hopes up that Harry would be coming to live here with him."
"I don't think that's true," said Harry, wringing green clumpy water out of his cloth. "He wouldn't give me a straight answer when I asked him if I could."
"He just didn't want to get his own hopes up even more," said Hermione wisely. "And he probably felt a bit guilty himself, because I think a part of him was really hoping you'd be expelled. Then you'd both be outcasts together."
"Come off it!" said Harry and Ron together, but Hermione merely shrugged.
"Suit yourselves. But I sometimes think Ron's mum's right, and Sirius gets confused about whether you're you or your father, Harry."
"So you think he's touched in the head?" said Harry heatedly.
"No, I just think he's been very lonely for a long time," said Hermione.
"Don't be blind," Percy said simply, "but don't search for another answer when one is presenting itself in front of you." He stood up, "I don't know Sirius, and I'm sorry if I offend you, but I know people… Your mentor needs to get a grip of reality, your education is your primary weapon."
Ron blinked. Harry stared.
"What?" Percy asked, unknowingly as he scraped mold off the door panel.
"You don't understand," Harry muttered under his breath.
At this point Mrs. Weasley entered the bedroom behind them. "Still not finished?" she said, poking her head into the cupboard.
"I thought you might be here to tell us to have a break!" said Ron bitterly. "D'you know how much mold we've got rid of since we arrived here?"
"You were so keen to help the Order," said Mrs. Weasley, "you can do your bit by making headquarters fit to live in."
"I feel like a house-elf," grumbled Ron.
"Well, now that you understand what dreadful lives they lead, perhaps you'll be a bit more active in S.P.E.W.!" said Hermione hopefully, as Mrs. Weasley left them to it again.
"Spew? Does Ron have an issue with actively spewing thing?" Percy asked, horrified in a naïve way.
"No," Hermione laughed, "It's an organization to help house elves," and she proceeded to go into very deep details about what S.P.E.W did, how they did it, and why they did it.
Ron nudged Harry pointedly, "If by organization she means herself, then yes, it is an organization."
Harry smiled, "By the looks of it, she just got a new member," he whispered eyeing Percy as he spoke animatedly to the bushy haired witch whose eyes sparkled as she talked.
On the very last day of their Holiday Percy stood in the room that Harry, Ron, and he slept in while Frank, Nico, and Leo slept in another room right next to theirs'. He dusted off the wardrobe as Harry swept up Hedwig's owl droppings and Ron attempted to make the bed.
Nico entered the room carrying several large packages, "Since booklists arrived much earlier then usual, I'd guess these are acceptance letters…" He tossed one to Ron, Harry, and to Percy's surprise he received one as well.
Nodding thanks to Nico, Percy set down his package and continued to wipe down the wardrobe.
Crack.
Percy didn't even turn around, having gotten used to the sound of Apparating weeks ago.
"We were just wondering who assigned the Slinkhard book," said Fred conversationally.
"Because it means Dumbledore's found a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," said George.
"And about time too," said Fred, trying to peer over Harry's shoulder, "It should be on the acceptance letters, where all the teachers sign at the bottom…"
"What d'you mean?" Harry asked, jumping down beside him, "About time too,'" he quoted, "you make it sound like it's a bad thing."
"Well, we overheard Mum and Dad talking on the Extendable Ears a few weeks back," Fred told Harry, "and from what they were saying, Dumbledore was having real trouble finding anyone to do the job this year."
"Not surprising, is it, when you look at what's happened to the last four?" said George.
"One sacked, one dead, one's memory removed, and one locked in a trunk for nine months," said Harry, ticking them off on his fingers. "Yeah, I see what you mean."
Percy smiled warmly and jumped down, "That sounds almost as bad as my school record." George high-fived him, "Cause you know, getting expelled from six muggle schools isn't that bad."
"What's up with you, Ron?" asked Fred, noting the younger boy's unusual silence.
Ron did not reply. Percy looked around. Ron was standing still, not moving a muscle as his mouth gaped at the Hogwarts letter. "What's the matter?" said Fred impatiently, moving around Ron to look over his shoulder at the parchment.
Fred's mouth fell open too.
"Prefect?" he said, staring incredulously at the letter.
"Prefect?" George leapt forward, seized the envelope in Ron's other hand, and turned it upside down. Percy saw something scarlet and gold fall into George's palm.
"No way," said George in a hushed voice. "By Merlin's beard!"
"There's been a mistake," said Fred as he snatched the letter out of Ron's hand and held it up to a light as if searching for a watermark. "No one in their right mind would make Ron a prefect. . . ."
The twins' heads turned in unison and both of them stared at Harry, who was standing right next to Percy.
"We thought you were a cert!" said Fred in an accusing tone.
"We thought Dumbledore was bound to pick you!" said George indignantly as he marched up to Harry and took his own letter, skimming through it.
Percy stepped back, he had a feeling a long rant was coming. Watching as Lily jumped off from the top bunk bed, he stretched out his arms for her to safely land in.
"Winning the Triwizard and everything!" said Fred.
"I suppose all the mad stuff must've counted against him," said George to Fred.
"Yeah," said Fred slowly. "Yeah, you've caused too much trouble, mate. Well, at least one of you's got their priorities right."
He strode over to Harry and clapped him on the back while giving Ron a scathing look.
"Prefect . . . ickle Ronnie the prefect . . ."
"Oh, Mum's going to be revolting," groaned George, thrusting the prefect badge back at Ron as though it might contaminate him.
Ron, who still had not said a word, took the badge, stared at it for a moment, and then held it out to Harry as though asking mutely for confirmation that it was genuine. Harry took it and studied it.
The door banged open. Hermione came tearing into the room, her cheeks flushed and her hair flying. There was an envelope in her hand.
"Did you — did you get — ?"
She spotted the badge in Harry's hand and let out a shriek that rang in Percy's eardrums much longer than it should have.
"I knew it!" she said excitedly, brandishing her letter with surprising force. "Me too, Harry, me too!"
"No," said Harry quickly, pushing the badge back into Ron's hand.
"It's Ron, not me."
"It — what?"
"Ron's prefect, not me," Harry said.
"Ron?" said Hermione, her jaw dropping. "But . . . are you sure? I mean —"
Percy snickered at her artlessness. He sat down next to Lily and began to go through his trunk, No need to watch the Hermione embarrass herself, he admonished to himself. Robes, books, Lily's cage…
"It's my name on the letter," Ron said defiantly.
"I . . ." said Hermione, looking thoroughly bewildered. "I . . . well . . . wow! Well done, Ron! That's really —"
"Unexpected," said George, nodding.
"Unnecessary," said Fred, looking at George with a wink.
"And extremely uncalled for," the twins recited together.
"No," said Hermione, blushing harder than ever, "no, it's not . . . Ron's done loads of . . . he's really . . ."
Percy let out a laugh, "Come now, for all you disbelievers, does Dumbledore make mistakes? I think not. Congratulations Ron." Lily meowed in affirmative. "See! My cat agrees." Percy clapped the redheaded boy on the back. Ripping the paper off his own envelope, Percy sat back silently and watched humorously as Mrs. Weasley gave a high pitched squeal at the news, and to Ron's delight decided to buy him a new broom. Ron then rushed out of the room to talk with his mother, leaving Harry, Hermione, and Percy in the room alone.
With a lazy look at the two, he started humming as he began to read his acceptance letter, which was next to, impossible with his dyslexia making letters fly off the page. Blah… Blah… Percy could barely recall a word after he finished reading. He suddenly looked up, wondering at the snort of laughter coming from Harry.
Hermione had left to send a letter to her parents, but Harry was still in the room grumbling under his breath. "Harry…?" The younger boy looked up at him, glaring. "Hey, I know you're upset, but don't sweat it… Be happy for Ron, I can tell he rarely gets the credit he deserves."
Harry finally conceded, "I know," he said in a hollow voice, "I just… I'm a terrible friend," he said miserably.
"If it helps," Percy started sympathetically, "I helped this person out, and when I brought her to my friends it seemed like for no reason everyone started looking to her… It rubbed me the wrong way, but we ended up becoming great friends."
"It doesn't, but thanks for trying," Harry laughed.
Percy blinked… Okaaaay… He went back to his second letter as Harry fed Hedwig, and then stopped dead.
"H-Harry…" and waited until he got his unwavering attention, "D'you remember when I said Dumbledore doesn't make mistakes…? I think he just made one — a big huge one," Percy practically shoved the letter in Harry's face.
Dear Perseus Rydall Jackson,
Since your school records have been previously marred with an obvious lack of authority and other prank-like behaviors, I find that the best way to curb these childish acts is to immediately enroll you in stimulating Leadership Programs. This is effective immediately and whichever house you are sorted into, you will become a third Prefect for the Sixth Years. Please take this into consideration when you no doubt find this letter angering, I do not want my school to be blown up, harmed, attacked in any way, as your other schools have been thus treated. I hope that with these duties, you will realize the importance of setting examples, and that any act out of conduct cannot be permitted to grow. I have found that children who have an obvious hatred for authority, once placed in it's clutches are more likely to mature and less likely to step out of line. You're badge will be given to you upon your arrival to Hogwarts, and I hope to see you grow splendidly in both magical and material means.
— Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
"I'm dead, aren't I, Harry," Percy said miserably.
"You are, Jackson, you really are," Harry answered solemnly.
POLL RESULTS:
Luna — 27
Hermione — 3
Ginny — Me, so 1 :( (Sad face)
Daphnee Greengrass — 3
OC — 2
FOREVER ALONE — 33 (19 + 14 is 32, right?)
POLL IS OVER... unless I have an overwhelming amount of people say otherwise ;)
GOOODBYE KNIGHTS,
Jay
