When Percy woke up, he was a in a cold, dark, damp cell. How stereotypical.
His wrists and ankles ached, and when he looked down, he saw thick rope covering both of them. He pulled experimentally with his hands, and they didn't budge one bit. He figured they where infused with magic, he could feel the faint drum of magic under his skin.
He sighed and lied his head back down on the concrete. The last thing he remembered, Voldemort was standing over him, and calling him a demigod.
Shit. Percy's eyes widened. Somehow Voldemort knew that he was a demigod. However, he probably didn't know his godly parent. He could feel the water in the faucet in the corner of the cell. But he couldn't risk it. They probably had monitoring spells, and would figure out who he was the son of. Maybe he could convince Voldemort he didn't have any powers, and he could be set free! But even as he brainstormed, he knew that it was risky. He didn't know how much Voldemort knew about him. He had to wait, be patient, be careful of how he spoke.
Heavy steps down the stairs caught his attention. His head lifted and his eyes followed the dark silhouette approaching him. A tall man with long platinum blonde hair. He had only seen that hair color on one other person. Draco. This must be his father, Lucius Malfoy.
The man took his wand out of his sleeve and pointed it at the cell door. Noiselessly, the door opened. He stepped in and pointed it at Percy's bonds. They fell off and slithered away.
"Get up," He said, his voice not too deep yet not too high. "I will escort you to the Dark Lord. One step out of place, and I will blow your head off," He gave a dark smile, showing all teeth.
Slowly, Percy stood up. He stretched out all the kinks in his body as he moved forward, vigilantly aware of the wand pointing towards his back. He ascended the stairs, and winced slightly at the bright light flooding his eyes. He blinked a few times to get the floating dark spots out of his vision. Wordlessly, he followed the directions of Malfoy until they came to a set of doors.
There, he knew, would lie Voldemort, and all of his dirty followers. "In," Malfoy said gruffly, and Percy grasped the door handle and opened it.
The room was silent, all eyes on him as he walked down the length to Voldemort, sitting at a high-backed chair, a throne, if you will. He stopped in front of the throne, glaring at the man through his eyes.
"Kneel." Voldemort commanded, and Percy just smiled. He didn't move one inch, besides tilting his head at Voldemort, analyzing him. Voldemort started to adopt an angry look, looking like something died and stunk in front of him.
Voldemort brandished his wand from within his ropes. "You will kneel." He said, angrily, yet not pointing it at Percy. He motioned something with his hand to his followers. Percy's knees were kicked from behind, and two hands on his shoulders forced him to his knees. Percy gritted his teeth, refusing to take his gaze off of the sociopath.
"My dear Death Eaters," Voldemort cooed. "One day, while sifting through the Restricted Section at Hogwarts," He paused to make a face at the school's name. "I came across a certain book. This author had a wonderful theory about magic. That we were all descendants of Lady Hecate, the Greek goddess of witchcraft." He kept his eyes trained on Percy's face, yet he didn't outwardly react. "This author had spent his entire life, dedicated to finding evidence about the Greek gods existence." Voldemort continued on, a small smile appearing on his face. "He died without accomplishing much, yet in just a few short hours, I have achieved what he couldn't." Voldemort paused dramatically. "Proof."
Percy pressed his lips together, hearing the excited chatter of the Death Eaters around him.
"Yes, sitting in front of us today is a demigod. A child of a muggle and a god." Voldemort looked around at his followers. "So, dear demigod, who is your parent?" His beady red eyes trained on Percy once more.
Time to put his acting skills to this test, and also his mental blocks. Hecate had taught him all about the art of Occlumency and Legilimency. "Aphrodite." He said quietly, looking away from Voldemort. He had to refrain from looking into his eyes. Percy gave a little scoff, and a tiny shake of his head as he kept his eyes trained to the wall. He mumbled something under his breath about Aphrodite never being there for him, and instantly he could feel Voldemort's mood shift. He was happy, Percy could tell that much. He was most likely looking for a demigod that disliked their parent, enough to join him against the wizards, much like Kronos did. But he was also disappointed. Voldemort believed that Aphrodite was a weak and useless goddess, yet Percy knew differently. However, he was banking on the stereotypes of her powers overriding the truth, and he was right.
"Poor, poor demigod," Voldemort crooned. "Tell me, are you loyal to your mother? The one who abandoned you as an infant?"
Percy kept himself from outwardly reacting. "I'm not loyal to her, and never will I be." He spoke softly, yet he put in a small amount of anger to his tone. He sense Voldemort sitting back on his throne.
"Look at me." Voldemort commanded. Percy reluctantly turned his head and gazed at Voldemort. "My followers, leave us." He dismissed them with a wave of his hand.
Percy heard the scuffling of the Death Eaters exit the room, but he didn't dare turn his head away. He felt Voldemort poke at his mind as soon as it went quiet. He pressed his lips together, quickly forming a plan. If this works, it would be massively successful. If it didn't... he might die. He brought a few images to his head. A young boy being claimed as the son of Aphrodite, and Percy's own claiming. He merged them together inside his mind, and let down certain shields around his mind. Hopefully, Voldemort would sense Percy as being truthful, and watch Percy's "claiming" as a son of Aphrodite.
As Voldemort watched the image, he held his breath. One slip of his concentration, and his life would be at stake. He felt Voldemort retreat and he immediately put back up the shields inside his mind. Voldemort remained quiet, simply observing Percy. Percy exhaled his breath as he watched Voldemort.
"Dear son of Aphrodite, I have a task for you. You will be my spy."
Dumbledore silently watched as a few members of the Order shuffled into the meeting place. He had called on a select few. Namely, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Molly and Arthur Weasley, Nymphadora Tonks, and Minerva McGonagall. He clasped his hands together behind his back and waited until they were all silently staring at him from their seats around the table.
"As you may have heard already, there was an attack on Hogwarts last night. Many were injured, but all are accounted for." Albus pressed his lips together. "All but one." He sighed and took his hands from behind his back, and placed them on the table. "One Perseus Jackson, the American transfer student." From his spot, he could see confusion from around the table. Yes, they all realized that any life missing or dead is one too many, but to call an emergency meeting for one boy who was probably already dead at the hands of Voldemort?
"Witness have seen Voldemort ordering one of his followers to bind Perseus Jackson. After they did so, they left, and the battle ended. It is safe to assume that they were for only for him." Albus stopped momentarily and sighed. "I am about to tell you something that may never leave this room. Not even to Harry," He gave an even stare at everyone sitting at the table.
Sirius Black looked at Remus Lupin, and shrugged. "Okay." Sirius said, breaking the silence, and Albus moved on.
"Perseus Jackson is not a wizard. Or rather, he was not a born wizard. He is the demigod son of Poseidon, the Greek god of the ocean. I called upon Chiron, the Greek hero trainer to help us. Times are troubling, and I knew that we needed help. He sent his strongest demigod, Perseus. With the blessing and training of Hecate, the goddess of magic, he was sent to aid us. Now, I fear, Voldemort realized what he is, and took him."
The room fell silent, and was broken by the chattering of those seated. "Quiet!" Dumbledore called. "It is crucial that this does not leave this room, and that we get Perseus back as soon as possible. There is a prophecy concerning him, and without him, we won't be able to defeat Voldemort."
Those sitting at the table shared glances with each other. Voldemort had a teenage boy, just about Harry's age. They would do whatever it took to get him back.