The water came out of nowhere.
Harry saw Neville collapse back on the ground, limbs splayed outwards, saw Bellatrix lift her wand to break the Crucio spell, saw Percy slip out his wand and then-
Absolute chaos.
He slipped the prophecy back into his pocket, strangely cool to the touch, and tried to forget how the mist rose in the Protego shield that Bellatrix trapped him in. Tried to forget how the mist rose and whispered words, promises in his ear. Tried to forget the wet gash slicing across his side, trickling blood onto his hands, the floor, his cloak.
He took off the remaining parts of his cloak-it had been already torn into pieces for Ginny's leg-and wrapped it around his side, pressing it against the wound. It stung, a sharp, biting pain that traveled down his body, but he ignored it.
The prophecy banged against his leg when he tried to stand up.
Dumbledore knew…
Shut up, he fiercely told himself. Now is not the time.
He knelt back to the ground. His legs were too wobbly to hold his weight, vision too blurry to do anything coherent except watch the scene in front of him, as Percy lifted his arms in the air.
The water rose like an enormous monster, shifting and swirling with immense pressure. It neither looked solid nor liquid, always moving, but always keeping a general shape that loomed over the Death Eaters like Fate itself was determined to crush them under her hand.
"What type of monster are you?"
Percy didn't shout. His words were quiet, almost calm, and somehow, that was more frightening than any shouted words. His green eyes had turned dark, no longer the bright ocean-green reflecting summer days. Now they were as murky as the bottom of the Great Lake, a darkish green that looked more like brackish water than ocean water.
"You think this is funny? Do you think torturing others is a game? That somehow, you're more powerful the more the other person screams?"
Bellatrix spat back at him, but Harry could see the change in her expression. The triumphant look in her eyes had disappeared, replaced by a sort of twisted awe and fear.
She turned to Macnair. "Is this…"
"Yes," Macnair breathed out. "The Lady predicted that he would come."
Bellatrix hesitated. Then she sighed, and backed off, carelessly dropping Neville on the ground with a solid thump. "He's all yours today," she muttered, still towards Macnair. "If you fail to capture him, I will not hesitate to go for you and your Lady. Be thankful that the Dark Lord is so merciful towards her."
She turned her back, but before she could fully disappear into the swarm of black cloaks, Percy moved.
"Expelliarmus!"
The red streak burst out of the wand, illuminating the room with a strange, reddish burst of light, so bright that Harry was forced to close his eyes. But before he shut them, he spotted the green runes dangling from Percy's wand, ripped and torn to shreds like paper.
A massive bang echoed throughout the room. The smell of burning wood filled the air.
Harry cracked open his eyes. Bellatrix was flat against the wall. A Bellatrix-sized hole was smashed through the now empty aquarium… and through the hole, came her wand, flying through the air.
Percy neatly caught it with one hand. In his other hand, his wand was beginning to smoke as the runes hanging off his wand started to shimmer and disappear.
"You thought you just could walk away? Torture a friend of mine, be like yup! I'm off to Narnia now?" The scorn in Percy's voice was biting. When Bellatrix didn't respond, he scoffed.
"You're no great witch. You just bully those you think you can win against, and bow down towards the strong."
Bellatrix still wasn't responding, and it was at that moment that Harry realized that it wasn't because she was being defiant. Her mouth was opening and closing, like a fish gasping for breath out of water.
"Still no words?"
She couldn't speak. She was choking, something was making her splutter helplessly, hands scrabbling against her throat.
"Percy," Harry wheezed out. "She's… she can't breathe-"
The voice in his throat died when he saw the look in Percy's eyes, so cold that Harry's stomach squeezed in on itself. Wildness gleamed in his eyes, as if he could watch Bellatrix choke to death in front of him without even blinking.
As if he was the one that was choking Bellatrix to death.
In Percy's hand, the wand was definitely smoking. Puffs of dark ask trickled out from the tip. But at that moment, Harry wasn't afraid of Bellatrix, nor of the dark cloaks surrounding them on all sides.
He was afraid of the icy expression on Percy's face. He was afraid of what Percy might do to the cowering-no, writhing-woman in front of him.
"Your wand," Harry managed to croak out.
Percy's dark green eyes flickered towards Harry. Something must have been on Harry's face because the wildness in Percy's eyes retreated, leaving behind only remorse and deep, deep weariness.
Percy glanced down at the smoking wood, then wordlessly slid both his wand and Bellatrix's wand into his cloak pocket. The water floating above the aquarium still stayed though, despite the lack of a wand.
Did he even use the wand to control the water? Harry didn't remember seeing any incantations, didn't remember seeing Percy wave his wand at the mass of water-only that the wand was out and the water rose.
"To Hades with everything," Percy muttered, so faintly that Harry could barely hear him. "I give up pretending. Hecate, please don't kill me."
With all of Harry's willpower, Harry forced himself into a sitting position, ignoring the sudden spike of pain that lanced his side. A sudden gush of blood dripped out of his makeshift bandage wrapped around the side. "What are you doing?"
"Fighting this my way," Percy said quietly. "Not with glowy balls of light. Not for revenge. Just the way I was taught by camp-by my erm, school back at home."
With a twist of his wrist, Percy flicked his pen out of his pocket and grabbed it with a hand, pulling off the cap with one smooth motion. The bronze blade Harry had seen Percy use earlier expanded from the body of the pen, growing until Percy was grasping the sword with two hands.
As if on cue, the Death Eaters converged and rushed forward, a swarm of black cloaks and wands pointed towards Percy. Harry started forward, grabbing his wand from his cloak, but before he could curse one of the Death Eaters, he saw Percy shake his head.
"I got this," Percy said. "Get Neville."
Harry hesitated. There was no way Percy could hold up against a dozen or more Death Eaters by himself… but something about his determined expression, something about his eyes reminded him of…
Not his eyes. They had softened up from whatever had happened before, still a dark green, but still human.
It was the power rolling off of him.
The power felt strangely similar to Dumbledore's aura when he discovered that Barty Crouch Jr. had hidden beneath his gaze the entire time… the fury and the ancient sort of power that flooded the air like magic itself had turned into mist.
Except instead of curling around Percy like it did with Dumbledore, it flowed around him, in waves and ebbies that swirled chaotically and-
The water floating above the aquarium moved.
If Harry had any doubts before that Percy was just a normal person, that idea was completely shattered by the sheer mass of water looming into the air. Percy had spoken no words, spoken no spells. He had just lifted his wand into the air and somehow managed to control the massive body of water behind Bellatrix without so much as a twitch of his wand.
But that didn't matter, not when he had a job to do, not when the rest of his friends were unconscious on the ground.
Harry made up his mind. If Percy needed help, he would jump in, but right now, his friends were in danger of being hit by the massive wave that Percy had summoned.
He edged towards Neville. If he got close enough, he would be able to use the Accio charm… then bring him towards the unconscious bodies of Luna and Ginny shoved. Ron and Hermione lay further, far enough to be safe from the water in the air.
The water had stopped swirling. Instead, it lingered in the air, like a loyal dog ready to obey the final commands of its master.
"What are you?" Macnair whispered. His eyes had widened, stance stiff, but his wand was still steady in front of him.
"What am I?" Percy repeated. He flicked his fingers at the water- not even with his wand, he used his other hand- and the water responded. A tendril of liquid rose from the blob of water in the air, twirling hypnotically like a snake before a snake tamer. Like Percy had somehow used Parseltongue, but on water.
The gash on Percy's hand had somehow healed. Harry faintly remembered the blood dripping down Percy's hand when he touched the revolving doors when they were trying to find Sirius, but there was no sign of an injury, no sign that Percy had even scratched himself. Instead of blood dripping from his hand, only water did-
A memory tried to push itself back into Harry's mind. There was too much fog to remember the memory clearly, but he could remember the flickering fireplace light of the common room, the disbelieving faces of Hermione and Ron, the weary look on Percy's face.
I am Percy Jackson.
I am Percy Jackson, son of…
"I am Percy Jackson," Percy said quietly. "And I'm here to beat Voldy Shorts and his psychopathic minions who need to get their priorities straight."
Bellatrix's face twisted into a scowl. Somehow, she still stared up into Percy's face without flinching. She was still pale, but her eyes were just as dark and menacing as before, and Harry knew that almost being choked to death hadn't even made a dent on her. "You cannot defeat us."
"I just did. A few seconds ago."
"And you won't do that again. Your heart isn't in the right place for that." Her eyes glittered. "You're too weak."
"Why are baddies so rude all the time?" Percy muttered. But from the tightening of his mouth, Harry knew that the words must have cut deep. "Seriously, be a normal human being, don't torture people, and don't follow guys who murder for fun. How hard is that?"
Bellatrix held out her hand. Without saying anything, Lucius appeared, placing his wand into her hand. He refused to meet Percy's accusing gaze, and disappeared in the flock of black cloaks. On the other hand, the rest of the Death Eaters didn't move forward. Rather, they waited, a pack of hyenas surrounding a carcass.
"You do not have a wand, and I do," Bellatrix said softly. "Don't think I didn't see the wands burning up in your hands. Do you think you can go up against a witch?"
"Swords are better than sticks anyways," Percy retorted.
Neville was finally in Harry's full sight now. His eyes were closed shut, but Harry could still faintly see Neville's chest rising… up, down, up, down, in a repeating, hypnotic pattern. Which was good, because if Neville's heart stopped pumping…
He refused to think any further. Neville was alive, and that was that.
He flicked his wand. "Accio."
A brief moment, a tiny tug. Neville shifted a few centimeters before stopping again-he was too heavy to be summoned from that far away. Just one or two meters closer, a few more tiles forward, a few more seconds of the cold ground underneath Harry's fingertips.
A green spell exploded in front of his fingertips. He snatched back his hand, heartbeat suddenly fast and uneven… the floor in front of him had stone carved away-
"Sorry, Harry!" Percy called out from the other side of the room. Harry could hardly see him under the mob of black clocks, but somehow, Harry could see how he was dodging all the spells with an easy grace that made Snape's dramatic swish of his cloak look like something a small child made up.
"Just don't kill me," Harry mumbled as Percy's sword flashed through the air. Percy deflected spells like he had done this his entire life, like he had been born with a blade in his hand.
"No promises."
Harry huffed but decided not to dawdle when another deflected light nearly missed his face.
They could survive this… they were so close, Harry was close enough, so close that he could see the sheen of sweat on Neville's prone face… Percy was fending of Bellatrix and Macnair at the same time, with water swirling around him-
"Accio."
Neville's motionless body slid towards Harry. The Death Eaters didn't even bat an eye, too busy trying to get through Percy's whirlpool of water, too busy shouting spells and waving their wands. Without pausing another second, Harry tapped his wand on Neville's head. "Rennervate."
Neville came to with a gasp, a choking cough that made Harry's own lungs hurt. Blood dotted the ground as he hacked over the tiled surface, hands pressed against his chest. But after a few seconds passed by, the coughing slowed, leaving only a faint wheezing-which wasn't much better, but better than nothing.
"Can you stand?" Harry whispered.
Neville groaned. "Whad's- whad's going on?" He turned around and caught sight of Percy surrounded by water. "Whad de-"
"There's no time," Harry cut him off. Hermione and Ron were still on the opposite side of the room. Despite the carpet of the Death Eater bodies on the ground, Bellatrix and Macnair were still shooting spells viciously, so quickly that they looked like multicolored streaks in the air.
Thank Merlin that Percy somehow pushed Ginny and Luna to the side before he and the Death Eaters started fighting… Harry wasn't sure that they would have survived otherwise, from the burnt marks on the carpet.
He looked at Neville. "We need to get out of here. Can you get Hermione?"
Neville blinked. For a moment, Harry was afraid that Neville had completely lost him. But then he nodded, crawling to his feet with painful slowness. "You're gedding Ron?"
Harry nodded. "Both, then we run… telephones outside, or we can send a distress signal."
With that, Harry turned away to creep towards Ron. Percy was still fighting-beads of sweat were now coating his forehead, dripping down his face. His water shield was beginning to slow down, but Bellatrix and Macnair seemed even more exhausted, movements slower, spells less bright.
Neville reached Hermione first and draped her over his back. She was clearly out cold-the spell that Lucius had sent towards her must have been something more powerful than the typical Silencio…
Ron was also still breathing beneath Harry, despite the nasty gashes wrapping over his body-a wriggling brain was flailing its pale, pink limbs from a couple of feet away. A couple of detached pink, slimy tentacles were lying beside it as well, wriggling like flobberworms not yet harvested.
Slinging Ron over his shoulder, Harry finally let himself hope for the first time-that his dream, his mistake wouldn't cost anyone their lives, that they would be able to escape…
The temperature dropped.
The air suddenly felt oppressive, dangerous, as if another, larger creature had appeared in the room and sucked all the oxygen out. Even the lights dimmed momentarily, shadows and light both flickering to make room for something...
It wasn't just Harry. Everywhere he looked around in the room, he could see eyes widening-Percy stumbled and would have gotten hit by Bellatrix's spell if not for her sudden hesitation, Neville fumbled with Hermione's limp body, and Macnair-
His eyes were glowing with reverence and desire and strangely enough, pure adoration… the adoration that Harry would see in some of Dudley's goons towards Dudley, as if Dudley himself was some sort of awe-inspiring human-being.
Macnair's wand clattered to the ground, strangely echoing in the suddenly silent room, empty without the flashes of light that had previously been shooting across the walls.
"My Lady," Macnair whispered. "You have come."
He fell to his knees, in front of Percy, hands clutched above his head.
Percy blinked, sword still in mid-swing from the spells that had been flying across the room, face still glistening from the sweat beaded on his face. For a second, he stared at the cloaked man, still kneeling at his feet.
"Dude. I'm not a lady."
"You are not," a woman's voice came from behind Percy, smooth and elegant. "But I am."
From behind Percy, a woman shimmered into existence, dressed in a black dress that glimmered in the strange glow from the low-hanging lights. Her face was serene, ancient and young all at once, and achingly beautiful… the lady from his dreams that had been with him… with Voldemort.
Percy yelped, and nearly tumbled backward into Macnair. Pointing with his sword, he gestured wildly towards the woman who had appeared. "What the- where in the Hades did you come from?"
The woman ignored Percy. Instead, she turned to Macnair's still-bowed head.
"You can rise." Her honeyed voice drifted to the room, and Harry's feet instinctively twitched beneath him. But it was Macnair who raised his head. Both of Medea and Macnair's eyes met, dark against dark, one terrifyingly calm and the other dolefully obedient.
"You have done well."
"Anything for you, My Lady," Macnair breathed out.
"Okaaay," Percy said. "This is weird."
"This does not concern you, demigod," the woman said. The silk folds of her dress tumbled over her lithe body as she turned to examine the entire room.
Harry blinked. A feeling of deja-vu fell over him, large and misty… a memory that he had somehow forgotten but couldn't reach past into, couldn't push back the veil of mist and fog and whiteness clouding his brain.
"Percy's a demigod?" he asked out loud.
He immediately regretted asking the question. The woman turned towards him, meeting his gaze. Her eyes were filled with dark, dark secrets, with things that were best not spoken, with things that were only whispered within shadows and alleyways.
"A demigod," she repeated, nodding. "I see the Mist has influenced you."
Behind her, Percy had turned very, very pale. His sea-green eyes were darting all over the room, from Neville, who was still standing and listening with his mouth wide open, to the softly stirring Hermione on his back, to Harry.
"The Mist?" Harry asked. His stomach was rolling… he was feeling strangely nauseous and disoriented… the words all sounded so familiar yet something, something was off...
"Mrs. Lady, perhaps we could keep this discussion for later?" Percy laughed weakly. "I mean, if you're supposed to be an enemy, then we should be fighting right now?" He mimed swinging his sword through the air.
"Fool," Bellatrix muttered. Her wand was still held out against Percy… but it was obvious that she wasn't going to attack him anymore. Her gaze was fixated on the woman that just appeared, wary and suspicious. "You do not want to fight against her."
"Yeah well, you guessed wrong," Percy muttered. He turned to face the woman, who was still observing the room. "Hey woman, want to fight?" He waved his sword in the air some more. "Look over here, I'm a tasty demi- erm, a tasty wizard. You don't want to eat the rest of them... they're all stringy. Especially Harry."
"Wow, thanks. Appreciate it," Harry muttered under his breath. But his nausea didn't leave, and so didn't his rising concern about Percy, who was still very pale.
"They haven't arrived yet," the woman murmured under her breath, still ignoring Percy. "I suppose a few more minutes have to do." She sighed, sounding disappointed. "I was hoping this wouldn't take so long."
Her eyes landed on Harry again, and the bored glint in her eyes sharpened into something more predatory, eager to shred and slice. "Then because I have time, I'll remove the Mist from your mind."
Harry scrabbled backward, away from her stretched hand. "You're not touching me," he growled. "What's the Mist? What are you talking about?"
"Get away from him," Percy hissed, swinging his sword. She neatly twisted out of the way from the bronze blade… the bronze blade, the blade that Percy had been avoiding using against the Death Eaters. "At least wash your hands before you touch someone else… I thought at least you would know what sanitation means."
Unlike any other Death Eater, who would have fumed or exploded, the woman looked unperturbed. Leaving her hand stretched out towards Harry, she turned around to look at Percy.
"Oh Perseus," the woman said, sounding sympathetic. "Has Hecate been holding you under her leash for that long?"
Percy froze. With a flick of the woman's fingers, the blade in Percy's hand flew out of his hands and into her hands. She twirled the blade around her hands, before tossing it away, metal against floor creating a loud clattering sound that echoed throughout the room.
Harry exchanged a confused look with Neville, who had stopped at the other side of the wall. Harry had never seen the woman before in his life, besides his dreams… and somehow, she already knew Percy's name, as if they were close acquaintances rather than strangers.
"Hecate has been holding you back for too long." The woman's red lips curled up into a bitter smile. "It seems like she has been doing the same to you, Perseus. You are her precious pawn, and once she's done with you, she can erase you from its precious world with a snap of her fingers."
"I'm not going to disappear. And it's for the safety of the world," Percy snapped back. The lightness in his voice had disappeared, leaving behind tension, the same tension that had built up behind his darkening green eyes. "They can't know about our world… it'll keep them safe, it'll keep them away from monsters…"
The woman laughed, but the rich, beautiful sound held no semblance of humor. "Your friend…" her hand waved towards Harry, red nails glittering in the dim light. "He has a right to know who you are. Just because you're afraid of how he'll react when he finds out about you, doesn't mean that you should be a coward about it. That's what true friends do, yes?"
Percy was hiding something? Unbidden, the words that Percy had said back outside the Herbology room floated back to the forefront of his memory again.
"Everyone's got to have some secrets, or I'd question their sanity."
Harry looked around at both of them staring down the other. "What's going on?" he asked, trying not to sound hopelessly confused. Percy refused to meet his gaze, instead keeping his eyes on Bellatrix.
"It's not my choice to make," Percy said tightly. "I can't… I can't make another mistake again-"
"Hecate's threatened you with a friend.".
When Percy spluttered, the woman laughed bitterly. "Believe me. I've been her champion, and she abandoned me as soon as rumors started flying. No advice, no support. She trained me, and once she lost interest, she left me to deal with the wolves. You are no different."
Percy snorted. "Oh, I think we're pretty different."
His eyes narrowed, still the dark, sea-green color that had bloomed into existence when Bellatrix had cursed Neville. "At least I haven't murdered a dude and dumped his bloody body parts in the ocean. At least I haven't murdered my kids, Medea."
"She murdered her kids?" Harry choked out. "Why in the Merlin do you both know each other?"
The words suddenly stuck to his throat as the Medea lady snapped her fingers at him, almost like she had sent a silent Silencio spell towards him. "Quiet."
"One of my friends met up with her," Percy said. "Considering she's as crazy as Piper described her as, I'm glad I've never met her before." He made a face. "You don't always have to join the evil side, you know?"
The Medea lady had stiffened. Despite the unchanged expression on her face, her eyes got even colder, so cold that Harry could even feel the chills running up and down his spine. But she didn't attack, didn't even make another motion to disarm or hurt Percy.
"We're much more similar than you think, Perseus," she finally said quietly. "When you have realized that your world has abandoned and left you, when you have realized that power is the only thing that keeps people close to you, that's when you will remember this day."
"Bull. Schist." Percy drew out his sword from his pocket, the same bronze, shimmering blade that Medea had tossed to the ground only minutes ago. "Let's have a conversation when you and Voldy's Death Munchers disband and stop threatening my friends."
Medea only raised an eyebrow. "You really think you can defeat me?"
"I've defeated much scarier monsters than you." Percy bit out.
"That may be true," Medea coincided. "But we're not in your world anymore."
Her eyes suddenly flashed, glowing with power. Her hair whipped up and fluttered around her face, despite the lack of breeze. Gleaming, green runes, the same ones that had been on Percy's wand moments before, shimmered into being before her, surrounding her in a hypnotizing dance.
"Have you ever wondered why wizards have never interacted with you demigods, except for a select few? Have you ever wondered why wizards like Albus Dumbledore and Lord Voldemort have never interacted with your kind?"
Harry could only hopelessly watch, words trapped in his throat, Ron still limp against his shoulders, as Medea began to rise from the ground. On the other side of the room, Neville was pounding against air, as if Medea had surrounded them with a clear, transparent bubble where nothing could come in or out.
"Dear Piper has only remembered me as the witch who could only use potions," she said. "But she was never part of the wizarding community herself. And there are laws, laws that Hecate has twisted to bring you into this world, Perseus. All for her own doing."
The green light began to wash over the entire room, illuminating the still unconscious bodies on the ground, Death Eaters and Ginny and Luna alike, the kneeling figures of Bellatrix and Macnair, the decapitated tentacles of the brains shivering on the ground, the silhouette of Percy with his sword held up-
Water was swirling above his head, gallons of aquarium water that had all coalesced above Percy, whipping his black hair around in a small, pseudo-hurricane. Both Bellatrix and Macnair were flattened against the wall, but somehow, Harry could barely feel the winds around him, as if the water itself was shielding him against the currents swimming throughout the air.
But there was no fear in Medea's face. Only a thin, red smile graced her lips, filled with approval.
Then the hundreds of water and Percy fell upon her, a whirlwind of motion and bronze and water. The green runes flickered in the air, transforming the water into steam… blasts of green light reflected off of Percy's bronze blade, black dress and cloak fluttered around each other in a dangerous dance of spells versus sword.
Harry couldn't even spot where Percy began and Medea ended, couldn't differentiate who was attacking who or what was being said. There was only the chaos of color swirling in the air, and the feeling of power streaming into the air, like a hot day at the Great Lake. Even if he could speak, he wouldn't dare to shoot a spell into the intricate fighting going on, in fear of accidentally hitting Percy.
But as the seconds dragged on, the hurricane surrounding Percy began to thin out, swirling less furiously than it had first started with. When both Percy and Medea separated again, facing each other from opposite sides, Harry could see the ragged breaths that Percy had, the triumphant smile that Medea was sporting.
"You are strong," she said. "But you are tired."
"Maybe fighting against dozens of Death Munchers can be a little exhausting," Percy gasped out, breathing heavily. "Can we have a rematch some other day?"
"You won't ever beat me," Medea said. "In here, in my domain, you will never beat me, just like how your little friends can never beat you inside the ocean."
"Good thing that I'm a wizard as well," Percy forced out.
Her dark eyes sharpened. "There's another reason why you will never defeat me. Would you like to know why?"
"Not really," Percy shot back. He raised his sword. "I just need to beat you, not get a lecture about it."
But before he could sprint forward, Medea twisted out of existence.
Percy skidded to a stop. He met Harry's eyes, but something was off… Percy's eyes widened in fear, fixated on something above Harry-
Harry whirled around to meet the dark eyes of Medea.
His heart stopped.
Her smile was sharp, less jagged than Bellatrix's mad smile, but much more dangerous. "Hello, Harry."
Her eyes were too black, too all-encompassing… they swallowed up Harry like a black hole dragging in the final remains of light into the center. Before he could even react, she placed a single fingertip on his forehead, cool to the touch.
The white mist in his head parted, revealing the memories of the last couple of months in crystal clear images… the flickering fire in the fireplace, the smell of smoky wood, the wide eyes of both Ron and Hermione in their respective, plushy purple cushions.
I am Percy.
I am Percy Jackson, son of Posiedon.
His head felt like two hands were forcing apart his thoughts, pulling the white mist from his memories viciously, like a vampire sucking up blood from his brain.
There was screaming… someone was screaming his name over and over again-
"HARRY!"
It was Percy, voice frantic and shrill. "HARRY!"
The finger was lifted from his head, and through the haze of heaviness and confusion, Harry caught himself with his hands against the ground, trying not to vomit from the sudden nausea that rolled over him… he barely noticed the prophecy clattering to the ground next to him, rolling out of his fingers...
Greek gods, flying horses, the tired expression of Percy going off to the dorms...
"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?"
Medea's voice was much too pleased. "Just gave him a quick shock," she said. "Removed the Mist from his head… I'm sure that he'll be happy to remember who you really are-"
"ARE YOU SERIOUS?" Percy roared. From the corner of Harry's blurry vision, he could see that the hurricane picked up speed again, and the sudden bronze glint of Percy's blade as he dove towards Medea. But instead of passing through, his sword got stuck through something, almost like an invisible barrier in front of Medea.
Medea's smile was bittersweet when she looked at Percy.
"Percy."
"Put the Mist back," Percy pleaded, and his voice was so terrified, so filled with desperation that Harry's heart ached with him. "You don't understand… I can't have Annabeth worrying about me again… Hecate's going to…"
His voice trailed off as he tried pulling on his sword. It didn't budge, stuck inside of the barrier.
Medea's expression didn't change, still strangely pitying. "You will never defeat me because you are afraid."
"I'm not afraid of you," Percy spat.
"You are afraid of the power you hold," Medea murmured. "Afraid of hurting your loved ones, afraid of recognizing that you have that power to change the world. You hold back the power of your spells rather than accept what they are… the runes don't work with you, they limit what your wand can do."
She shook her head. "You think I don't know about your boggart? How you were afraid of having too much power, of hurting your precious Annabeth, your precious mother, your precious friends?"
The nausea was beginning to die down, the horrid feeling of having Harry's head ripped in two… instead, a picture began to paint itself back into Harry's head again, of Percy and his strange spell-power and the secrets he was hiding. He struggled to sit up again, digging his fingers into the cold, hard ground.
The words were no longer struggling to push against his throat… Medea's second action of removing the Mist, whatever that was, must have removed the effects of her first spell to stay silent.
"Pathetic," Medea said, and the worst part was, her voice had no hint of malice in it. There was only pity as if she considered Percy a small, bedraggled puppy laid. "You think you can really protect your friends? You've only fought the small fish in the sea… if you keep on resisting that power, then you will fall. You will watch all your friends burn up beside you, and you will watch them helplessly, with no power to stop what will happen."
Percy had stopped struggling. Instead, he was staring up at Medea with a horrified look in his face, hands limp against his sword hilt. Realization was spreading on his face as if he could recognize what Medea was saying, as if he could understand her words.
With all of Harry's willpower, Harry strained his limp fingers, dragging his wand from his pocket. Holding out his wand in front of him was exhausting, much more tiring than it was supposed to be, but he had to keep it up-
"You can't keep running from your potential power." Medea's voice was still sympathetic, honey-sweet. "If you keep running, you will find yourself a small fish among the bigger ones soon. Because this world, this wizarding world that Hecate has created… this world hasn't stagnated like the gods had expected it to have. It has grown, created new rules, created new abilities-" with a flick of her fingers, a green fire sprang to life within her hand.
Harry finally managed to wrap his fingers around his wand.
"A shadow world can become more powerful than the original, sooner or later. And you've been introduced to this world, with its new rules and conditions. You need to play the same rules to survive."
Flick, swish, twirl.
"Stop running away. Don't make the same mistakes that I did when I was first introduced to the Greek world."
"EXPELLIARMUS!"
The familiar red light shot from Harry's wand. For a second, he almost thought that the spell had gotten across her barrier… but a moment later, the invisible barrier in front of Medea shimmered into being, green runes that materialized from thin air and caught Harry's red spell.
Medea stopped speaking. Her head slowly turned, dark eyes boring into Harry's still outstretched hand.
"Interesting," she murmured, studying him curiously.
"You talk too much," Harry bit out. He ignored the way his wand was shaking in his hands, and stared back defiantly.
For some strange reason, Medea made no attempts to summon the prophecy that had fallen to the ground in front of Harry. Instead, her eyes were fixated on his face, an eerie curiosity that made the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand up.
She took a step towards him, slow and steady, like a cat ready to pounce on her victim.
This was it…
Harry wasn't sure if he could move his arms anymore, the way they were shaking… the world was beginning to spin and out from sight. With dazed alarm, he realized that his side was still wet… his wound must have been bleeding through the bandage the whole time.
He steadied his stance and waited for the green magic to fall upon him, wondered how much it would hurt to have the green slice through his body-
She stopped, midstep, frozen in the air like she had been caught in an invisible net.
"Don't look at him," Percy hissed, pointing his sword at her. Somehow, he had gotten the sword out of her barrier, but the fury that Harry had spotted in Percy's face before had resurfaced, an ugly darkness that clouded his green eyes.
Medea's head whipped towards him. Surprise lit up on her face, but Harry could swear that he saw triumph on her face before Percy lifted up his sword.
He sliced.
This time, the sword cut through the runes with surprising ease. If Medea didn't stumble out of the way at the last moment, she would have been sliced in half. Even so, a large gash appeared on her arm, dripping beads of red blood on the ground.
"That's better," she murmured, sounding approving.
Percy was swaying now. But even so, he still glared at Medea. "Don't go after people who have nothing to do with you. You're from my world."
Medea looked unperturbed. "Remember my words young demigod." Oddly enough, she still sounded sympathetic. "You cannot do anything if you keep on being afraid. And in the end, that means you will not be able to protect your friends."
Percy moved again. But before he could take another step forward, Medea clapped her hands together.
With a single clap of her hands, power flooded throughout the room, materialized in the form of green light that expanded and filled the air. Harry threw up his arms, trying to block the light from blinding his eyes-
There was no way Percy could have dodged the blast of power that emitted from Medea's hands. Panic throbbed within Harry's chest, cold and alien… when the light died down, Percy was on the ground, out cold. His bronze blade had fallen out of his hands and lay on the ground, reflecting the green light that was surrounding Medea.
Medea was breathing hard. She looked up from Percy's still body, gaze sweeping around the room, as if she had been waiting for someone the whole time.
"They're still not here," she mumbled under her breath, looking annoyed. "Gods, how slow can they be?"
She bent down to grab Percy, but before she could reach out, Harry scooped up the fallen prophecy from the ground, still lying there from when he collapsed earlier on.
"If you get any closer to Percy, I will smash this prophecy," he croaked out, willing his words to come out. His head spun, but he couldn't let her get any closer to Percy. "You work with Voldemort, right? Get any closer to Percy, and I will break it."
Medea's eyes fell on the cool prophecy clutched in Harry's hand, still somehow undamaged from its roll on the ground. But before she could say anything, another pop sounded from behind them.
Both Macnair and Bellatrix, who had risen from the ground, still soaked from the hurricane that Percy had summoned, dropped back to their knees again, heads bowed towards the ground.
"My Lady. You have done enough," the cold voice, the voice that had been haunting Harry's dreams, the voice that Harry himself had heard rasping out of his own throat, echoed throughout the room. "Potter. How good to see you again."
I'm so sorry that I posted this chappie a bit late! It's been absolutely crazy this past week with work and all of that, and I spent the past three hours researching, writing, and editing an email to send to the principal about policy changes with hybrid teaching going on inside a classroom, and honestly, the administration is one of the most frustrating things to deal with ever haha.
A friend taught me that ketchup is great with everything, so I've been using that to stay awake and finish this up. Hopefully, all the recent cliffhangers aren't killing you all. :^) Just add a little bit of ketchup to it, and it'll be perfect.
^^Also a sign of my sleep deprivation haha, comparing everything to ketchup. Stay safe as always, you're all amazing people, and thanks for sticking along!