a/n: Sadly, my trip to the US is over, and it's time for my first time at college! (Cue screaming)

A very special and heart-felt thank you to Tycho, for being so incredibly and unbelievably kind for me and this story. I cannot thank you enough, other than getting on my knees and offering you my friendship. (If you'll take it.)

This Labyrinth is Riddikulus

~ Chapter 25 ~

Harry Potter was running for his life.

And amidst all the chaos, the confusing and above all the adrenaline pulsing through his veins he found himself to be strangely impressed.

Impressed, for the thousandth time the last few days, with Percy.

Because, for some inexplicable reason, the son of Poseidon thought that running from a big horde of evil nymphs screaming murder at them was a perfectly good time to flirt.

"Percy," Annabeth managed to say between curses – the nymphs, or whatever they were, who were chasing them were adamant on throwing cactuses and other lethal plants at their heads – "let go of my hand!"

"Why?" Percy yelled back, smiling at her while nudging Hermione with his free hand to get her out of harm's way without even stumbling over his feet.

Annabeth stared at him as if he were mental. "Why? We're being chased by anthousai, you idiot!"

"Which are very scary creatures!"

She humphed. "I'm not scared, Perce, I don't need to hold your hand."

Harry stumbled over his feet, and almost lost hearing Percy's reply – "maybe I just need to hold yours?"

"You're pathetic."

"Maybe." Percy let go of her hand – and Harry could swear he saw Annabeth's face fall a bit – stopped walking, turned around and single-handedly slashed the first two nymphs within reach with an uncapped Riptide. "But, to be fair," he added, grinning up at her just as the last four nymphs ran away from his glowing blade, "you're the one dating me."

Grover, clutching his thighs and hunched over in fatigue, managed to croak a; "Touché."

Annabeth nudged him, growling under her breath, and everyone started to laugh.

Their happy little moment, though, was rudely interrupted when one of the last remaining anthousai managed to knock Ron off his feet with a well-thrown batch of roses.

Half an hour later, Harry was ready to throw his wand away in the next garbage bin they'd see.

The anthousai had scattered when Percy had gently asked them to leave (before he'd promised to hunt them down and introduce them to his sword – after that even the last angry one had taken that as their cue to go) and now their group was wandering.

Again.

Lost, without a single clue as to where they were going.

Again.

And Harry, having just tried the 'point me' spell for the billionth time, cursed loudly when his wand just spun around in his palm helplessly, turning so quickly it was dizzying to look at.

"We're doomed," Grover said good-naturedly when the next-hallway seemed just the same as the last ten ones.

"So you've said," Ron groaned, "about four-hundred and sixty times already."

"You've counted?"

"And rounded down."

Harry snorted loudly, and even Annabeth couldn't stifle a laugh. "Guys, try to stay positive!"

Both Hermione and Ron's heads snapped back to look at him. "What?" Ron asked him, his voice as confused as he looked. "Who are you and what have you done with the pessimistic Harry we've grown to love?"

"Oh, sod off." Harry rolled his eyes. "I know I'm not... widely known for my optimism..."

"Understatement," Hermione muttered under her breath.

"But," Harry continued as if he hadn't heard it, "This isn't the first time they've been to the labyrinth." He nodded towards Annabeth and Percy, who both looked like he just confirmed their worst fears. "I'm sure it'll be fine," he added, feeling as though he was lying through his teeth.

"And that's what I'm afraid of," Annabeth said, and she sighed deeply. "Look, this labyrinth is... it doesn't make sense, even to people who've been here dozens of times – even to us three. I know it may seem like we know what we're doing, but... I honestly don't. We might be walking straight into a trap, or end up in Canada."

Ron put his head in his hands, and groaned theatrically. "Then what in the name of Merlin are we still doing in this thing, then? Harry can't even find out what way north is, Hermione's magic is going bonkers here and frankly, I'm losing my mind! Nothing in this maze –"

"Labyrinth," Annabeth corrected, and smirked when Ron just glared at her for daring to interrupt.

"- nothing in this labyrinth makes sense," Ron continued, "and around every turn there's an army of monsters waiting. Harry's leg is still patched up and bleeding, and Hermione's hand must be hurting her –"

Hermione quirked up, surprised, but visibly pleased that Ron had remembered her injury.

"- we don't all have that magic nectar thing you guys can use to heal ourselves, and we don't know any healing spells yet to help ourselves! You guys said that this maze –" Ron rolled his eyes before someone could say anything, and corrected himself, "I mean, labyrinth – would be dangerous, but would get us there quickly... And I don't know about you, but I don't call this quickly."

It was quiet for a while after that, with Ron's voice echoing through the dimly-lit hallway in front of them. The neon-light reflected the same emotions on everyone's face that Harry suspected were on his; confusion and defeat.

Then, Annabeth cleared her throat, and said with a small smile, "That was a surprisingly smart comment, Ron."

Ron barked out a laugh, and put his hands in the air in exasperation. "What, you think I usually make stupid comments?"

"Of course I do," Annabeth said briskly, "but that's not my point. I usually think everyone makes stupid comments in comparison to my own."

Percy laughed. "Believe me, she does. Don't take it personal."

"Like Circe I won't," Ron muttered under his breath, and Harry patted him on the back sympathetically.

"Anyway," Annabeth then continued, "Ron's right. Coming into the labyrinth has been one of the most stupid ideas –"

"It was my idea," Percy suddenly remembered.

Annabeth smiled. "Case and point, Seaweed Brain."

Harry had to laugh – again – by the mock-hurt look on Percy's face, and he tried to remember to never make stupid comments near Annabeth ever again, she was ruthless.

If he didn't like her very much for her bravery and love for her friends, he might even have punched her for being rude to Ron.

(And for being rude to Percy, too, though he doubted Percy didn't love every second of her teasing.)

"Then what do you propose we do?" Harry asked, ticking with his fingers on the hem of his jeans. Nervous tick. "We can't go back, that just means we've wasted days in this stupid labyrinth – days we could've..." his voice faltered.

Wordlessly Hermione grabbed his hand, and squeezed it tightly. She seemed to understand him without him even needing to speak his discomfort, and Ron gave him a small smile over Hermione's shoulder – letting Harry know that he knew, and understood, too.

(Of course they understood, Harry thought glumly, they've wasted all their time by his side, time they could've spend hunting down Voldemort's new 'rise to power'.)

"I suggest," Annabeth said slowly, "that we get out of this labyrinth."

"And," Percy said, eyeing something behind Harry with a look of shock on his face, "I suggest we do it quickly."

Harry whirled around, and his eyes widened. "Yeah," he said, his voice a few octaves higher than normal, "I think we should even try to do it running."

"Mate," Ron said, grabbing his wand and turning around in the same move, "you've never made more sense."

After about half an hour of sprinting at full speed – Harry was sure that the stabbing pain in both his sides and his legs were lethal by this point – Annabeth had an idea.

A stupid idea, but it was better than nothing.

She'd turned suddenly, slipping on her heels as if she did this daily, and she'd stabbed the wall on her left with every ounce of strength she had. (And Harry knew that was a lot.) The tear in the brightly-decorated wooden wall made by her dagger immediately spread, cracking the wall, the ceiling... and then it all came tumbling down, wooden planks that made up the ceiling crashing on the floor, creating an effective barricade between them and the unknown beast.

Everyone came to a halt, and Ron instantly collapsed on his knees, breathing like a chain-smoker who'd just walked up a set of stairs. "Merlin," he breathed, clutching his sides, "you could've given us a warning!"

Annabeth shrugged, "I could've."

"You're a menace," Percy declared. "Why am I dating you again?"

"Could ask the same of you, Seaweed Brain." She countered, pocketing her dagger.

Grover groaned, slightly swaying on his feet as if he were nauseated. "Could you two not? I mean, sure, it's cute, but is it really the time to flirt?"

"We're not flirting," Annabeth and Percy both said at the same time.

Annabeth immediately scowled.

(Percy, however, smiled broadly.)

Harry, feeling slightly sick in the stomach by their theatrics – he had never really been a fan of romantics, and he wasn't a fan of how Percy and Annabeth had increased their flirting after the explosion at St. Helens – cleared his throat loudly. "So," he said conversationally, and Ron perked up, as eager as he was to focus on something else than the mushy couple, "how do we get out of here? I haven't exactly seen any exits."

"You've been to one," Annabeth reminded him. "The factory wasn't in the labyrinth, remember? And this place is full of exits, if you know where to look. The problem isn't finding an exit, trust me. It's finding one that ends up at the place we want to be that's hard."

Ron scrambled upright, and rolled his eyes. "All I care about is leaving this place, I honestly don't give a rat's arse where we end up."

"Arse?" Percy laughed, "it's ass!"

Hermione giggled, her mouth hidden behind her palm. "We're British, remember?"

Percy grinned slowly, and he locked eyes with Harry. "Kind of hard to forget, with your stupid accent."

"It's not stupid!" Harry countered, but he was smiling, too. "You Americans make everything sound so flat and dull –"

"As opposed to you British folk?" Percy cleared his throat, and continued in a very bad, but incredibly posh, impression of English; "All right now chaps, let's look at this bloody labyrinth now shall we, I –"

Harry nudged him good-naturedly, laughing alongside his friends. "That was terrible."

Percy's grin widened, and he bowed a little. "I live to serve."

"Well, then, servant," Annabeth suddenly said with a smile, "let's get a move on and find Daedalus' sign."

Judging by Annabeth's optimism from earlier on, Harry had expected they'd find one of the thousand exits of the labyrinth within minutes. (After all, Annabeth had never sugar-coated anything, saying they were doomed rather than making him feel better by saying they had a chance.)

When one hour went by, it got harder to stay optimistic.

After two, he had to refrain himself from echoing Ron's constant 'are we there yet'.

By the third hour he was dragging his feet, not feeling like he had the strength to fully lift them.

The fact that their supply of sandwiches from Camp Half-Blood was running out rapidly didn't help his mood. (Nor Ron's, for that matter. If their food did run out – and Harry suspected it would only take one more day – he did not want to know what it would do with Ron's already plummeted mood.)

By the fourth hour, Hermione finally said what he'd been thinking.

"Annabeth," she said carefully, "do you have any idea where we're going?"

"Of course I don't," the blonde girl snapped back irritably, keeping up her fast pace. "And keep up!" she added, dragging a stumbling Percy behind her, who shrugged sheepishly at Harry.

During the fifth hour, Ron stopped walking altogether.

At first Harry thought he was just tired – or hungry, Ron on an empty stomach was capable of a lot of weird things – but then he saw Ron's expression.

"Ron?" He asked slowly, and he stopped walking, too. "Are you alright?"

Ron's eyes were wide and slightly dazed, as if he'd just been blinded. "Er, yeah. Fine. Dandy. All that."

At this point, Harry was really starting to worry. "You don't look it, mate."

"Annabeth," Ron then said, his voice less dreamy but still shakier than normal. "Daedalus' sign. It's a blue 'd', right?"

Annabeth – who'd noticed a little bit later than Harry that Ron had stopped walking – stomped back to them, a wary expression on her features. She crossed eyes with Harry for a second before turning to Ron. "Yes... why?"

He just pointed.

Both Harry and Annabeth turned around, and gasped simultaneously.

During their time in the labyrinth they'd passed by many opened doors. At first Harry had studied their contents with interest, but after the fifteenth chamber filled with nothing but destroyed furniture, he'd learned to simply not look at them anymore. (He didn't know if the others did the same, but he just didn't like looking at rooms that looked like they'd been ravished by monsters.)

The room Ron was pointing at, however, was different.

First of all, it was almost empty. The only piece of furniture was a simple wooden wardrobe, standing eerily in the middle of the room. There were no shredded sheets, no torn paintings, nor any other kind of sign that this room had been entered before.

Yet on the other side of the closet shone a bright blue light, illuminating the room, and Harry instantly knew it was Daedalus' sign.

"Ron, you're a genius," Harry breathed, and he felt as if his face would split in two.

"Harry's right!" Annabeth said, and blushed when everyone snapped their heads around to look at her. "Yes, fine," she said irritably, but she was smiling. "Just – let's just go in, shall we?"

Ron grinned – very visibly in better spirits – and bowed to Annabeth. "After you."

"Ever the gentleman," she teased, and stepped inside.

As soon as everyone had followed her in, the door slammed close behind them.

Harry wasn't surprised.

(After all, this wasn't the first time the labyrinth had done that.)

All he could do was grab his wand and sword and brace himself for whatever unknown monster that was about to lunge at them.

Harry's eyes immediately snapped to the only piece of furniture standing between them and the way out – the closet. Maybe the monster was locked up inside? Maybe it would jump out at them if they tried to push it out of the way?

Then, just as he took a tentative step forward, the closet shuddered.

"What the –" Percy voice faltered suddenly, and everyone recoiled at the same time when the closet shook even more forcefully.

"I think there's something in the closet," Grover said in a small voice.

Harry snorted. "Thank you, captain –"

The closet shuddered again, and for a moment, it seemed as if it had actually moved towards them.

"Harry?" Hermione's voice sounded too shrill, as if she couldn't breathe. "I think I know what's in there."

The closet lurched again, and this time, Harry was sure it was moving closer.

He tightened his grip on his wand, and huddled closer to his friends. "You do?"

"I think you do, too." She took a deep breath, and said; "I think it's a boggart."

And Harry sort of knew in his stomach that she was right – but a big part of him just didn't want to accept it. So when Ron laughed, he laughed along, not caring that it might sound hollow and fake.

"A boggart?" Ron said, "Merlin, Hermione, I do hate to remind you that we're in the Greek world now, not ours!"

A loud thud interrupted them, and with another shudder the door burst open.

Harry immediately leaped forward.

(After all, the demigods had never faced a boggart before, and didn't have magic to defend themselves. And if he was totally honest with himself, he kind of hoped that casting a patronus would lift his spirit, even if it was an unethical way of fighting a boggart.)

Just when the boggart in the shape of Harry's fear could slide out of the closet, Percy jumped forward, and pushed Harry out of the way.

Probably thinking he could save the day again.

Or it was a stupid habit of his, Harry thought grumpily as he tried to scramble up from the floor, to jump right in without thinking.

For a second nobody breathed.

Then, one of the most repulsive smells Harry had ever smelled passed over them like a wave, instantly making Harry want to double over and empty his stomach on the floor. His friends were no better, with Ron recoiling even further from the closet, and Hermione's face turning slightly green.

It smelled like socks wrapped in garlic that had been rotting in the sun, topped with a sewer smell that made it hard to breathe. It was horrible, and Harry was sure that he'd rather choke than keep breathing this.

Percy, however, seemed unfazed. He ignored Annabeth's gagging and Grover's choking, and balled his fists at his side. "Come out!" He yelled at the closet, his voice wavering and shaky. "Come out and face me, you coward!"

The fat hand that wrapped around the sides of the closet to get out wasn't something Harry had expected.

He'd expected – judging by the horrible smell – that it had to be from one of the worst Greek monsters out there, coming straight from a place like Tartarus. (After all, if it was the thing Percy Jackson feared the most, it had to be phenomenal.)

The thing that stepped out of the closet, though, was a normal human being.

Sure, he smelled like corpses rotting and dipped in alcohol, and he was so fat and ugly with his oily and thin hair swept over his mostly-bald head. He looked so ugly that even Vernon would seem handsome next to him, but he was human, with human hands and feet and a big fat belly.

Percy staggered.

"Boy!" The man rasped, his voice soft but clearly understandable. He was swaying on his feet, as if he was drunk, raising his meaty fists in the air. "You better not tell your mother about this or I swear to god –"

Harry couldn't move.

All he could do was stare at the stature of the man, at his tone, at his body language – and stare at Percy, who suddenly looked tiny and scared in front of an ordinary man, as if suddenly he was a small child again, his sword and godly powers forgotten.

Immediately, he understood.

(After all, Harry thought miserably, he'd lived with the Dursleys for far too long not to understand this kind of behavior.)

Before he could rise up from the floor and do something – drag Percy out of here, hug him, punch the boggart, anything – Hermione got there first.

She slammed Percy out of the way with more force than necessary, and immediately the man disappeared, morphed, and changed into a green-robed and stern-looking elderly woman.

"Miss Granger!" McGonagall said, in a voice that was like the real one but not quite. "You are a disappointment to the wizarding community! I can't –"

"Riddikulus!" Sobbed Hermione, and McGonagall's mouth was seared shut.

Ron quickly joined Hermione, and stepped forward, so the boggart changed shape again, this time – a spider.

Annabeth screamed, and leaped backwards with such a haste she toppled both Percy and herself onto the floor – and thus, on top of Harry. He groaned, feeling as though his organs were being crushed to a pulp, and pushed them off just when Ron's loud; "riddikulus!" filled the room.

The spider was now trying to stay upright, having quite the trouble with it, seeing as all his eight legs were stuck inside bright pink roller blades.

Harry scrambled up – and ignored Annabeth's protests when he had to use her head as a leverage – and leaped forward. Immediately the boggart changed into a dementor, and he shouted with all his might: "riddikulus!"

The dementor's hood fell off, Malfoy's pointed and pale face appeared – and Harry laughed, thinking about how, when Malfoy had done this in third year, Malfoy had ended up with a big scolding from McGonagall and weeks' worth of detention – and the boggart stumbled, falling into the closet.

Harry jumped forward once more, and threw the door closed, locking it magically in case the boggart would gather his power again.

He turned around.

Percy was sitting on the ground, not quite looking at anyone but his own shoes. Grover looked as if he was guilty about something, his eyes constantly switching between Percy and Annabeth, and he was fidgeting with his hands.

"Perce," he finally said, his voice almost a bleat. "That was Gabe, wasn't it?"

Percy took a shaky breath, his eyes still on the floor and his face as red as Ron's hair. "Yeah. What kind of monster was that?"

Hermione's head was almost a blur, her cheeks stained with tears of having to face her boggart again. (She'd never been good with boggarts.) "That's a boggart," she said, "it... it's from our world. It changes into your... Well.. your worst fears."

And Harry had enough.

He stomped forward, his footsteps echoing loudly throughout the room. He grabbed Percy's hand and pulled him upward. He ignored the other boy's protests, and pulled him into a hug so tight he was sure it would break Percy's ribs if he didn't have Achilles' curse.

Harry wasn't really a hugging type.

(He certainly had never hugged someone this tightly before, at least not for comfort alone.)

"You okay?" He muttered in Percy's ear, and when he didn't feel the other boy hugging back, he added, "I've got an uncle. Uh... like that." Harry lowered his voice even more, making sure no one could overhear them. "You... you shouldn't be ashamed."

Because Percy had been. He'd been blushing and fidgeting and staring at the ground – avoiding confrontation so badly as if he'd wanted to bolt from the scene and never, ever come back.

And no way in hell that Harry was going to let him.

He wasn't the best at comforting people – maybe he should've said more, should've patted him on the back instead, should've poured his heart out about the cupboard and the cat flap and the bars – but then, suddenly, Percy hugged him back with so much force they almost fell over.

"Thank you," Percy whispered back in his ear, his hands grabbing the back of Harry's sweater as if it were a life-line.

Harry slumped in his grip, and allowed for a moment for his head to lay on Percy's shoulder. He didn't bother replying, in case his voice would crack, in case he'd stain his cheeks just as Hermione had done.

a/n: This chapter has been written for my own comfort, and for all those people out there who agree with me in my great need to grant Percy with all the hugs in the world.

(Oh, and also, a thank you to the anonymous person with a suggestion to include more of the wizarding world in this story. I quite liked writing about this kind of monster for a change, so thanks.)

Another thank you to Gryffindor01 for the idea of the 'point me' spell, it's riddikulus (sorry, can't help myself) I hadn't thought of it myself!

And last but not least, a great big and fluffy thank you to Moony, one of my best friends and coincidentally my beta - under the name 'StellaTheReviewer'. You've all heard of her, I'm sure, and I want to take a moment to put her in the spotlight, for With Wands and Swords is officially ONE YEAR OLD, and I wanted to celebrate her being my beta for just as long. :)

If ya liked it, please, review! That'd be so kind of you. (And if I could have another thirty seconds of your time, could you maybe check out my new poll on my page? Thanks.)

As usual, here are the answers to you anonymous folk:

Lyssa: Always happy to help you fight off boredom! After being friends with Stella for more than a year, I consider it one of my special talents.

Lthien Iriss: Hi, Violet! Thank you so much! I'm glad you liked Annabeth - I simply adore her, I adore writing about her, so I'm glad I could "convert" someone else! Also, what has his time of birth have to do with anything? I mean, we all know he's a genius, but, what? I was born at 10:44, is that special, too? I don't think so? And yeah, they did. I get threats more often than not, but I guess it's just backhanded compliments, no? Love, Liz.

Matt: Thanks x infinity, 'dude', for that review! :) I hope you liked their, hug, then, in this chapter?

Guest: Thanks so much!

Deja Vu: HAHAHA oh my gods, sorry, but I choked on my laughter when I read your review! I'm sorry I confused you, and I hope you're still reading after you find out it isn't about Percy Weasley?

Guest: Harry is a half-blood wizard. I'm sorry, but it's true. Look it up if you don't believe me! Many people have addressed this, but just as before, I'll explain. In the world of Harry Potter, you're only deemed a true-blood if all 4 of your grandparents are magical. Take per example Draco Malfoy - his parents and grandparents are wizards and witches! With Harry, he's only got 2 magical grandparents, which means that he is a half-blood. More often than not it's mentioned in the books. (Like per example the reason why Voldemort chose Harry Potter as his rival rather than Neville - Voldemort is a half-blood wizard, and Neville is a pure-blood, so he chose Harry as his equal. Or when Hermione got angry and said that the Death Eaters would gladly take a pure-blood and half-blood - meaning Ron and Harry - over her muggleborn-blood, at which of course Harry very wisely stated that the death eaters would "gladly" accept it if Voldemort wasn't trying to "do him in".) To conclude, Harry is very much a half-blood wizard, and thus able to cross the border of camp half-blood. I hope this was informative? Have a good day.

(Next time, though… please don't shout if you're confused about something. I can answer just fine with kindly formed questions, thanks. You don't stand up and call the teacher an idiot in class if you don't understand something, do you?)