Full summary:
"He is broken," Harry said quietly, not turning his gaze.
"What do you mean?" asked Hermione, approaching from behind him but not entering the cell.
"Whoever this is… He's devastated. The look in his eyes…" Harry didn't know how to describe it. When he looked at him he saw glass, pale and green, shattered to the bone.
The boy blinked, his throat working as he swallowed.
"What happened to you?" Harry asked. He shuddered in a sudden chill.
.
Danger once again looms over the wizarding world, over the entire world, and this time the Ministry of Magic doesn't waste any time.
Harry and his friends are recruited to help with a secret investigation, and find themselves in a race against time to find the reason for the attacks and prevent the next ones.
Unfortunately, their prisoners aren't exactly cooperating. Especially not the first one, with his glowing green eyes.
Harry will solve it eventually, he's sure of it. With Percy's help or without it.
.
.
Author's note:
This is a translation of my work from my native language. You can find it in Hebrew | עברית in Wattpad:
story/157212402
Also, this fanfic has a playlist! Check it out on YouTube or Spotify, under the name "the eyes are the mirror of the soul" (no caps).
(You're welcome to check this fanfic out in AO3, it's posted there under my username as well, and the links are available there.)
Enjoy! :)
.
.
.
Prologue:
Percy woke up slowly, so very slowly.
It took some time until his body regained sensation. The feeling in his neck was the first to return, that in his feet the last. His head was pounding. His lungs were burning. He felt as if he was breathing acid.
It was eerily similar to how being in Tartarus affected him - only this time there wasn't any fire-water river nearby.
He straightened up slowly, so very slowly. Blinked over and over. He was in a dark room, a cell with a grille door and almost no light at all. Only a faint green glow that he knew he himself was the source of. The glow illuminated mainly the places he looked at, but the difference it made was small. Most of the light wafted in the cold air around him and left him in the dark, trying to figure out his surroundings.
Scents of metal and mold. A bathroom-sized cell, twice as long as it was wide. A rusty toilet in its deepest, darkest corner. Dull pain in his bones, everywhere.
He looked out through the door of bars. It took him a full moment to notice the pair of grey eyes in the dark, looking straight at him from the other side.
Watching him.
White-hot pain gripped his chest. Grey eyes. Oh, how he'd missed his grey eyes; how much he would've given to be with her right now.
He sat up with effort and crawled closer to the cell's front, closer to the bars. His head was swimming. The grey eyes did not blink, and neither did he.
They stayed like this for a while. Long minutes passed and they kept looking at each other, unmoving, barely blinking. Percy managed to make out a face around the eyes, a straight nose and slim lips, male. He wasn't sure if the hair was brown or ginger. He noticed the eyes were paler than Annabeth's, not as vibrant as hers.
He ached.
Eventually the grey-eyed man leaned back. "Congratulations. You succeeded in breaking down the unbreakable," he said quietly, his accent distinctly British. He didn't seem very old.
Percy didn't react, didn't let the disappointment he was feeling show on his face. He wished he wouldn't have succeeded. He wished they would have stopped him in time.
"Why did you do it?" the grey-eyed man asked. Percy didn't respond.
"Who sent you?" the interrogator tried again. Percy licked his chapped lips. He said nothing.
"If you don't talk willingly, we will find ways to make you talk. I suggest you cooperate."
Percy didn't show any sign of understanding what the stranger was saying. He just stared deep into his eyes, trying to learn as much as he could about him.
Since the quest, he became keenly aware of the true power of the eyes. All the stories they could tell. From looking into his green ones, for example, the young interrogator could have gleaned all that he was wishing to know. If only he had known to look.
Percy reminded himself that this was not the right way to think. He was allowed to reveal to his interrogator only one piece of the puzzle, a not very helpful piece at that, and only because of his role as the messenger. However much he wanted this stranger to discover the truth, he couldn't let that happen. On the contrary - he had to do everything in his power to prevent that from happening. Ever.
Or at least until Annabeth would be with him again. But by then it would be too late.
The interrogator stood up and looked at him from above. Percy returned the look steadily.
"You are stuck here. Your special ability doesn't work in this cell. You won't be able to get out, or run away, ever." He stopped for a moment and they both kept staring at each other blankly, neither giving away even the barest of emotions. "Your only chance is to cooperate. Consider it over the next few days".
Percy shuddered. Cold fear crawled up his throat.
He was wrong. The British guy was wrong. Percy's powers did work inside the cell. He felt it, the water calling him from the underground.
And that was the worst part of it.
The British guy was turning around, walking away, out of Percy's limited eyesight. Another moment and he'll be out of hearing range.
Percy drew in a deep breath.
The pull in his stomach, the one he felt every time he commanded the water, was so strong it was nearly violent. Much stronger than it used to be, before everything had changed. Just like his powers, which were almost twice as strong now that he was more connected to his godly half than to his human part.
Water spurted out of the ground in jets, almost hitting the ceiling. The interrogator's footsteps changed direction and were now on their hurried way back to him. Percy exhaled easily, calm and in control, and tried to shoot the water through the grille door - right at the guy.
But then he couldn't.
The water geysers hit the bars and stopped, as if somehow blocked, completely ignoring the gaps between the bars just waiting for them to hurtle through. Percy whirled the geysers in the air and tried again, but once more - they broke off as soon as they collided with the bars, as if met by a cement wall, and no matter how fiercely he pushed - they stayed in the cell.
He changed tracks and pulled the water back to the center of the cell, kept spinning and swirling the thick spurts around himself in the narrow space he had, so fast it was dizzying to look at. He didn't try to shoot them out again. The grey-eyed man watched him from outside the cell, pale in the faint green light. Percy thought he saw his Adam's apple bobbing.
Percy had a feeling he knew what was going to happen next. He smiled to himself in the dark, pleased, as he listened to the footsteps retreating again, this time running.
.
.
Percy looked at the chains that were now shackled to his wrists, those that appeared inside the cell when he slowly woke up.
He always woke up slowly, so very slowly. It was one of the side effects of his precarious state, as if his connection to reality wasn't strong enough anymore, as if the simple act of regaining consciousness became too hard.
He examined the chains from every direction. Each one was attached to a wall on either of his sides. Both were heavy, so very heavy, but not enough to stop him from moving. And they were ancient, that much was obvious.
He tried to sense the water, to feel his connection to the puddles around him, to the water that had already permeated the ground. Nothing.
Percy smiled with relief. They did it. They found a way to keep him from using his powers.
He examined his new shackles again. Black, massive, and quietly sizzling. Magical, undoubtedly. Heavily magical even.
He thought of the stranger's pale grey eyes. Of Annabeth's grey eyes, summer-sky bright and mid-storm dark, always changing shades, always evolving.
Then, an idea surfaced.
He knew what to do.
.
.
Harry stared, amazed, at Felix Fletcher, who was giving him an encouraging smile.
"I am speechless," Harry said, his green eyes sparkling with excitement. "Yes!"
Felix laughed. "I don't think you are, actually."
"This is amazing, this is - exactly what we wanted. I just never thought we'd have such a great opportunity to start so early... Thank you so much, Ron and I would love to." Harry smiled broadly.
He didn't need to ask Ron to know if he was interested. Both of them were well aware of their mutual desire to become Aurors. And this offer, to enter an important role so soon, straight into a classified and urgent case, without the required years in the academy first for a probationary period until they get promoted to official Aurors… He knew Ron would be a happy man.
"I'm glad to hear that," Felix smiled. He looked satisfied. "Professor McGonagall spoke very highly of you, and of course no one would say no to having the famous Harry Potter and his friends in his crew. I was happy to be chosen to recruit you. Let Ron know Commander Mansen will expect you both tomorrow morning in her office in the Aurors department in the Ministry of Magic, and if you'd like to bring more of your friends - on condition they're talented and you have complete faith in them, with preference to ones who took part in the battle of Hogwarts - you are very welcome."
Harry nodded. Felix handed him an envelope and stood up.
"All the details I gave you are in here. The rest will be explained later, likely in the Commander's office, if you decide to continue with the program."
"No need to worry, Mr. Fletcher," said Harry. He smiled and rose as well. "We choose to continue with the program."
Felix returned the smile. "I'm glad to hear that. Just one warning," he added, suddenly turning serious. "You are going in deep, Harry. You and your friends, you got the opportunity to skip the academy because more manpower is needed for this mission and you look promising. But it's not going to be easy. It might be the most important mission of your life."
"What kind of mission is it?" asked Harry, unflinching. Felix smiled once again.
"Don't worry. I'm sure you'll do just fine. You will hear all the details from the Commander herself." He extended his hand. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Potter."
They shook hands. Harry didn't put the envelope down as he escorted him out.
.