REMEMBER, I DO NOT OWN PJO OR HOO OR HARRY POTTER! ENJOY! I KNOW THIS TOOK A REALLY LONG TIME AND I PROMISE TO START UPDATING MORE CONTINUOUSLY IN A MORE PREDICTABLE PATTERN.

Chapter 9

Percy's POV

The past few days had been a total blur. First we had been transported to London and forced to go to a school named after pig pimples and where everyone wore dresses. Then we were forced to fight some more dress wearers. And now we were going to rescue Nico and Hazel from the same people. It was all about the dresses. Lovely.

"I think this is it," I announced quietly to the others. "I'm sure they're here. They have to be."

Ron/Carrot Top shrugged. "Alright." He tried his best to be confident, but he was pale and quivering with fear.

I took out Riptide from my pocket and uncapped it. The glow from the Celestial bronze brought out the old, wrought iron gates of the Riddle manor into sharper clarity. Sharper danger. Ron and Hermione took out their wands, even though I still couldn't see how that would help us fight against the Death Eaters. Annabeth's drakon bone sword was a shaft of cold moonlight.

"We can't afford to just push the gates open and walk through," she whispered. "We've already made a huge mistake, standing right in front of the main entrance. We have to take an indirect route."

"What about-" Hermione piped up.

"Shut it, I'm thinking."

Annabeth paced around for a little bit, than stopped and tried to peer over the thick, overgrown hedges.

"Percy, give me a lift," she said in a hushed voice."

I went over and wrapped my hands around her waist and hoisted her up so that she could see what was behind the weeds and choking vines. When I brought her back down, she had a satisfied, smug look on her face.

"Uh oh," I muttered softly underneath my breath.

"We'll go through the old lawn," Annabeth told us. "The overgrowth will be more than enough to hide us. And I saw a crumbled wall over there. It'd be easy enough to enter from there. If we had to break some of the stone down, the sound would be pretty minimal. It's already so weak and unstable."

"But how are we going to get to that crumbled wall without blundering and crashing everywhere. And I don't like the looks of those thorns."

Ron gulped. "Me neither."

"It's our only way in," Annabeth insisted, her gray eyes glowing. "We can't go in any other way. The direct route through those front doors would be virtual suicide. The other side's wall is still standing and covered with vines. Do you have a better suggestion?"

Hermione was silent.

I moved past the group and started slicing away at the thick, broken hedge. Soon, I had cleared a hole big enough to crawl under.

"Where's the Portkey?" Hermione hissed. "We need that in order to get back to the school."

"I have it."

Ron dug a small, inconspicuous brown pebble out of his pocket and placed it at the base of a nearby park bench. "There we go."

"I'll go first-scout ahead," I volunteered.

Annabeth pursed her lip worriedly.

"I'll be fine," I promised hastily before she went all nuts over me. "If there's anything out of the ordinary, I'll come out right away and call you, okay."

She nodded reluctantly.

"Stay safe, Seaweed Brain."

I crouched to the tough, knotted grass and pushed myself through the hole I had made. Almost immediately, I smashed face first into a thorn bush. When I winced, then immediately covered it up.

"Watch out, there's a thorn bush right there," I croaked out, wiping away blood from my cheek. "I crashed into it."

"We noticed," Annabeth shot back.

Once everyone was through and under, I continued to lead the way with Riptide, with Annabeth directing me to the crumbled wall.

"There's a sentry there, look," Annabeth whispered. Our heads whipped around, and I found that she was right. On an ivy choked balcony stood a lone Death Eater, his black robes swirling around him.

"Slow and steady," I hissed through clenched teeth. "If he see's us, we're all dead meat. And so are Nico and Hazel."

Carefully, we picked our way through the brush and overgrowth, interrupted only occasionally by the winces Ron gave out whenever he pricked himself on something.

Finally, we were at the ruins of the once fine, ornately carved West Wall. One step closer to Nico and Hazel, whatever condition they were in.

Annabeth ran her hand against the grimy stone bricks, then her arm disappeared into blackness.

"We're lucky," she murmured, pulling her hand out. There's already a hole here. Big enough for all of us to get in at once. I'm surprised they didn't think to guard this vantage point."

"Well what are we waiting for?" Ron put in, surprisingly. "Lets go."

I stepped in first, with Riptide as a guide. The soft golden glow lit up the badly damaged surroundings. The house had once been glorious and expensive looking, but now it was just sad. The rich maroon and gold leaf imprinted wallpaper was now stained and faded and torn. The gold was just a few specks here and there. The hardwood floor had rotten away and paintings were badly scratched.

We kept on going through the ruined hallway until we reached the vestibule. Old, rickety iron and Italian marble stairs curved to one landing once richly furnished.

"Extra quiet guys," Annabeth whispered. "They hear us, and this will be all for nothing."

We started climbing the stairs, but I could already tell we were making to much noise. Something wet was smeared on the steps, and I didn't want to know what it was.

Hermione raised her wand and mumbled, "Muffliato," with one hand cupped over her mouth. Instantly, our footsteps went silent and Ron's heavy breathing wasn't making any more of those annoying wheezing noises.

When we start climbing the stairs, Ron starts holding on to the iron railing. It shuddered and creaked under his hand. Then all of a sudden, a piece twisted off and spiraled down the ground.

It almost seemed like slow motion. The rusted iron plummeted to the cracked tile floor, dust swirling everywhere. Once it hit the ground, the entire quest would be totally over. Nico and Hazel would die. Then I noticed the glimmering dark puddles that had seeped through the tile cracks. I willed it to rise up in the air and it caught the railing noiselessly just in time. Another millisecond, and we would have been chased by angry swarms of Death Eaters. Moonlight shone on the excess liquid on the tile, and we all stumbled back, thankfully silently due to Hermione's charm.

The dark, smooth liquid was blood, dark red and reflecting the moon. Demigod blood. And lying neatly in another stray splash of it was a tiny, glittering flash of silver. Nico's ring. And nearby, Hazel's spatha, twisted and broken

DUN DUN DUN! CLIFFHANGER! DON'T WORRY, I LOVE YOU GUYS. ENOUGH TO GIVE YOU A CLIFFHANGER