Chapter Eleven

Percy

Harry and Percy sat in Dumbledore's office, who had sent them both letters that morning asking them to come. Aeto was in Dumbledore's lap again, and the two boys waited for him to speak first.

"What did you think of Voldemort, Harry?" He asked, electric blue eyes shining from behind the glasses.

"He wasn't what I was expecting." He said, and Percy snorted.

"So that brat had already decided on that dumbass name in school? He wanted to be Orochimaru the Noseless Wonder even then?" Percy asked, much to Harry's shock and Dumbledore's amusement.

"Neither of you know who Orochimaru is, do you? What about yeet, Tide Pods, no cap, F in the chat? So much beautiful slang you're missing out on." They had no clue what the end meant, and Percy smirked at the thought of using those words around Snape.

"To get back on topic, most people don't know the handsome and charming Tom Riddle became Lord Voldemort. He put a lot of effort into burying the shameful lineage of his muggle father."

"He said we were similar. I don't even know if I should be in Gryffindor. I'm a Parselmouth." Harry looked like he'd been carrying that emotional garbage for a while.

"I speak horse, but that isn't a personality trait. Have you ever seen me kick someone for a doughnut?" Harry blinked, he seemed to have forgotten Percy's conversation about Blackjack's doughnut obsession.

"You can speak to horses, Percy? I've never heard of such a thing." Said Dumbledore, and Percy tried not to look like he was hiding anything.

"Yeah, horses, unicorns, pegasi, hippocampi. I don't neigh or anything though, I got laughed out of the stables when I tried once."

"Harry, do you remember the sword you pulled from the Sorting Hat?" Dumbledore asked, pointing at the same sword hanging on the wall.

"Yes."

"That is the sword of Godric Gryffindor, Harry. Only a true Gryffindor could pull that from a hat." Harry looked incredibly happy at that, and Percy eyed the sword.

"About time one of you wizards learned to fight. What kind of metal is that, anyway? It's obviously not normal, but mortals can touch it. I've only ever seen one blade like that, and it was a monstrosity made for and by evil." Percy thought about Backbiter, and thus Luke. He pushed the thoughts aside.

"Mortals, Percy?" Dumbledore asked, and Percy silently cursed.

"Yeah, ordinary humans." Dumbledore sat back, and released some of the tension in the room.

"To answer your question, it's Goblin made steel. How it's made is a well-kept secret, and it's as effective as your own sword at destroying Dark creatures. I don't know about the other blade you mentioned, but I can assure you the Goblins are not Death Eaters." Percy scoffed at that.

"Another stupid name. Eating Death? I'll never get that image out of my head. He's a real piece of work. First Voldie and now Death has simps? You don't even know what simp means. But seriously, I'm used to my sadistic villains having names that make sense. They sound like some kind of creepy cult." Dumbledore chuckled, and Harry looked suspiciously like he did in

Professor Binns' class. Confused, Percy guessed. Talking about Death like he was a person isn't something most people do.

"Percy, is it true you know elemental magic? Wandless elemental magic?" Percy nodded.

"That's what we do at Camp Half-blood and Camp Jupiter. I'm the canoe guy, Leo sets himself on fire, and Jason zaps people. Camp Half-blood sorts people into cabins instead of Houses based on what they're good at. Hephaestus cabin has an arts and crafts area, Demeter cabin has a flower garden, Ares cabin has landmines, Athena cabin has a library." Harry turned pale.

"Landmines?!" Percy realized he'd made another blunder.

"They're magical landmines that really aren't that dangerous. You just have to remember to step where they step." Dumbledore looked intrigued.

"And at the other, uhm, camp?" Percy thought quickly. "We get sorted into cohorts, and squads. Kinda militant, but it's really not at the same time. It keeps the friendly competition going, and the numbers even. I learned my swordsmanship there, I spend summers at Camp Half-blood and winters at Camp Jupiter. Well, I did anyway." Half truths, and a lie. It wasn't like an interrogation, but he was uncomfortable all the same. It was getting dangerously close to topics that revealed too much.

A thought crossed his mind, and he raised his hand. 'You, the person who brought me here, lend a hand. I'm gonna look pretty stupid if this fails. I'm hopeless at using the Mist.' He thought. He snapped his fingers, and it was unnaturally loud and clear. 'Just act like everything about this isn't out of the ordinary, just don't try to dig deeper.'

He put his hand down, and Harry and Dumbledore had blank looks on their faces. Percy felt more than a little bad about it, but he wasn't willing to come clean yet. Their faces cleared, and Dumbledore and Harry talked about why Harry could speak Parseltongue.

"I believe Voldemort may have transferred some of his power to you when he tried to kill you on that fateful night." Harry looked horrified, and Percy understood why.

"Harry, don't worry about it. You know Aeto shadow-travels, right? He shadow-travels both of us. It's considered Dark magic, probably because it's incredibly dangerous, but do you think that makes me a Dark wizard?" Harry shook his head, and godsdamn it Dumbledore was curious again.

"You taught your hellhound to shadow-travel, as young as he is? And you've managed to go with him?" Percy thought about the explanation Nico had given him when he'd asked the same about Mrs. O'Leary.

"I don't understand the principles behind it, but letting Aeto handle the movement while I go along for the ride minimizes the risk. Hellhounds know how to shadow-travel on their own, and I'm not stupid enough to mess around with it." Dumbledore seemed to process this, and liked what he saw in it. Maybe it was a teacher's joy that a student understood his own weakness? Maybe he just liked hearing about magical creatures? Who knows.

"I hear you have been working with Professor Snape on an experiment." He said, and Harry also looked at him. Snape and Harry's dislike for each other was no secret.

"He may be a slimeball, but he's no pushover when it comes to Potions. We're trying to make nectar safe for other people, because it's effects are apparently ahead of every other potion out there. We can and will not try to make more, or learn the recipe. The last person who did ended up cursed, and no way am I getting cursed over an experiment. As you probably know, we aren't exactly succeeding." Harry didn't seem angry about him working with Snape when he

heard it could help save lives, and the slimeball comment didn't hurt either.

Dumbledore looked thoughtful, and Percy decided Dumbledore was a pretty dangerous old guy. If anyone would figure it out, it'd be him. He hoped the Mist would hold him off, but all the wizards he'd met so had been clear-sighted. It worked for now, at least.

Again, Dumbledore let them go after seeing it was getting late. Harry and Percy talked about simpler things, like Quidditch and the absurdity of the wizarding world.