PERCY

The dream began with a pitch black landscape. Percy was running through it blindly with Riptide clutched in hand, panting, turning left, then right, then left twice more. He didn't know where he was going, only that he had to get away. A voice echoed to him from all around, low but smooth, like a whisper amplified a thousand times over.

Don't run, boy, it said almost kindly. You can not escape from something that does not exist.

He ran straight into a wall.

After regaining his balance, Percy turned right and kept running. He wasn't really registering what the voice was saying. All he could do was sprint. Turn left. Keep sprinting. Suddenly he sensed water up ahead, roaring and thrashing silently. He avoided it and continued running, heart racing and lungs gasping for breath. Don't — stop — he gasped out to himself. Keep… going —

The voice laughed lightly. Mortals amuse me. What useless perseverance. What foolish determination.

This time, Percy found the strength to respond. Not — useless.

The river he had been running alongside curved right suddenly, and he sprinted right over the edge.

He was falling — falling for a very, very long time — and he wondered if he would ever hit the river. It definitely hadn't been this far down when he'd sensed it.

As if responding to his thoughts, his body hit the water with enough force to knock him out. But he found his eyes open as he sank beneath the surface, still surrounded completely by darkness. Instinctively, he held his breath before remembering he could breathe underwater.

He inhaled a lungful of bitter, salty water.

Choking and spluttering, Percy clawed his way towards what he thought was the surface, which seemed much farther above him than he remembered. He couldn't seem to draw breath, or expel it, without more water pouring in. He panicked. So this was what it felt like to drown. He'd never had to worry about it before.

Suddenly his head broke the surface of the river, and as he tumbled down what felt like a waterfall, he gasped in air. It was only for a brief moment that Percy was able to cough out what felt like buckets of sour-tasting water before he was pulled roughly under again. He floundered, using all of his willpower to keep his lips shut. He reached the surface again and gulped in cold, sweet air, not stopping soon enough to avoid inhaling more water when he was dragged down again.

Percy's limbs were tiring from pedaling water furiously. His head throbbed and his throat felt like it was on fire from choking on the bitter water. Slowly, he felt himself sinking down, arms too heavy to keep treading, as the water churned and beat down relentlessly. The last thing he heard before seeming to lose consciousness was the voice chuckling softly.

Futile.

Percy woke with a start, flinging himself upright.

He was drenched in cold sweat. His breaths came in quiet pants. It took him a good ten seconds to gain his bearings again and reassure himself that he was safe.

Pushing the covers off him, he checked his watch. It was still four-thirty in the morning. Percy lay back down, but his eyes stayed wide open and after a few minutes, he sat up again.

He slid out of bed and pulled out his suitcase. Annabeth had slipped him her old Yankees cap in a box of candy; how it had gotten past Filch's inspection, he didn't know, but it was a typical Annabeth-miracle. He slipped on the cap and gazed down, disoriented, at his nonexistent body.

As quietly as possible, Percy crept out of bed and out of the dormitory. The common room was silent, the flames still blazing happily in the fireplace and casting warm shadows behind the fat armchairs and couches. After a moment, he crossed the room and climbed out of the portrait-hole.

The hallway was dark. Each of Percy's footsteps seemed to echo on the floor, and he winced. Maybe Annabeth and Silena had been right about boys clomping about like garbage trucks.

As he wandered in the halls aimlessly, Percy found himself on the seventh floor in front of a painting of a bald dude attempting to conduct a room full of trolls in tutus. He spent a moment being weirded out by the image before pacing in front of the seemingly blank stone wall across from it.

Harry had told him about the Room of Requirement the day before, and it had saved him from a second detention with Snape. Percy had no need to recall the details of that. He hadn't had a chance to explore the room further until now, and he pushed open the colossal door that had appeared with some apprehension.

Stepping in, Percy looked around. The room reminded him of the attic of the Big House; cluttered with miscellaneous objects and posters. It was a lot bigger, though, with a high arching ceiling and towering shelves stuffed full with colorful knicknacks. He walked forward, still trying to be quiet because of some strange uneasy feeling that nagged at the corner of his mind.

He stopped at a familiar bronze glint on one of the shelves. Pulling it out, Percy realized that it was a dagger.

He frowned, turning the weapon over in his hands. It was about eighteen or twenty inches long, shaped from gleaming Celestial bronze. The hilt was made of polished dark wood. The whole thing flashed brightly as he tilted it.

But that wasn't what was strange. Percy was pretty sure he was in a wizard school, and that he was the only demigod in the castle. Could he have been wrong?

He shook his head. The school was old, and hadn't the wand shop owner said that he had sold a wand to one demigod before? It had probably belonged to someone long gone.

Still, Percy sheathed the dagger and placed it back on the shelf. It could come into some use later.

He continued on through the shelves. There were a lot of books; thousands and thousands of them, probably, and it made him think of Annabeth. There was a stone bust with a glittering tiara on top that looked strangely like a sculpture of Athena near one bookshelf. Broken furniture — tables, chairs, cabinets — littered the floor.

There was a sound. A small crash. Percy spun around, Riptide already out in sword form, ready for some monster to jump out at him.

Nothing did.

Cautiously, with Riptide still outstretched, Percy made his way towards the sound. Now it sounded like someone was swearing quietly; he tilted his head, wondering why someone (other than him, because he was a special case) would be up at this hour.

He eventually came to someone in black robes standing in front of a tall black cabinet, running his hand through combed white-blond hair.

Draco Malfoy.

Percy blinked.

Still keeping as silent as possible, Percy slowly moved around so he could see the other boy. Malfoy had his wand outstretched toward the cabinet, the tip glowing faintly, and as he moved it in the air, markings began to appear in the air in front of the cabinet. Runes. Percy leaned closer, trying to see what he was writing…

Like the idiot he was, he stepped on a book lying on the floor, and it squeaked.

Malfoy spun around, wand pointed in front of him, a panicked expression on his face. "Who's there?" he demanded. "Show yourself!"

Percy stilled, not daring to move a muscle.

"If it's you, Potter, snooping around…" Malfoy turned suddenly and shot a spell a few inches away from Percy's face. "Bloody Invisibility Cloak, is it? Coward…"

He cast another spell ricocheting past Percy's shoulder and just missing him as it rebounded off the wall. Then another, and another, until Percy was sure he was going to be decapitated if he didn't do something soon.

"Okay, okay!" He pulled off the cap. "Geez, calm down."

Malfoy's expression turned bewildered, and he lowered his wand, caught off his guard. "The transfer student? Jackson, was it? Why are you here?"

Percy stalled. "Well…"

"And what in Merlin's name is that thing?" Malfoy raised his wand again threateningly.

"Oh." Percy lowered Riptide belatedly. "Sorry."

Annabeth's voice calling him an idiot swam into his mind.

After a moment, Percy pocketed his pen and held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Look, I didn't know you were here. I just couldn't sleep. What are you doing, anyway?"

"Nothing," Malfoy spat unconvincingly. "It's none of your business, Jackson."

Percy shrugged. "Fine."

Caught off guard again, Malfoy lowered his wand. "Just go away, will you? I'm busy."

"You just said you weren't doing anything," Percy pointed out innocently. "So how can you be busy?"

"Are all Gryffindors so bloody idiotic?"

"Oh, definitely."

Malfoy just ran a hand through his hair again, looking exasperated.

Percy shifted. "So are you going to tell me what you're doing up at four thirty in the morning?"

"No." Malfoy scowled. "You have your secrets, and I have mine. Sod off."

"Fair enough." Percy shrugged again. "But you did technically try to attack me…"

Malfoy looked scandalized. "You were holding a bloody sword!"

Percy winced.

After a moment Malfoy added coldly, "And don't go babbling off to Potter and his lot about this, Jackson. You'll regret it."

"Harsh," Percy replied good-naturedly, "But sure. In return, you just have to tell me what you're doing."

Malfoy snorted. "You can't blackmail me, Jackson."

"Why not?" Percy asked innocently. "You should see the embarrassing intel I have on Clarisse LaRue."

Malfoy scowled. "You're infuriating."

"So I've been told."

Malfoy let out a low growl, but relented. "Fine. I'm trying to fix this bloody cabinet." He aimed a kick at the furniture. "Happy?"

Percy frowned. "Why? I didn't peg you as a decor kind of guy, to be honest."

"'Why' wasn't part of the deal. Now go bugger off."

Knowing that he wasn't going to give any other information, Percy gave up and left, putting the Yankees cap on again and pushing open the door to the hallway.

As he made his way back to the Gryffindor common room, Percy thought about what Malfoy had said. He was trying to fix the cabinet? He wasn't that stupid; it was obvious the cabinet had some sort of significance. But what could be so important about a piece of furniture?

Suddenly he was reminded of the prophecy Hermione had received, and he was tempted to bang his head against the wall.

How had a wizarding world fraud issued an Oracle prophecy?

He knew the answer: the failing Mist. But that didn't at all help; he'd found out nearly nothing about what could have been behind the attack in the month he'd been in Scotland. There had been nearly no clues, and meeting with Hecate the night before had been frustratingly unhelpful. She really just told him more about the wizarding world and made the already dark Forbidden Forest even creepier.

And the prophecy — Percy resisted the urge to growl in frustration. He really should have paid more attention in his Greek myths class at camp; how was he supposed to know who this "sorceress" character was? The only sorceress he had heard of (met, actually, but he didn't need to think about that — sometimes he could swear that he had the randomest craving for lettuce) was Circe, and had she had a sister? Not that Percy knew of. And what door would she open?

As for the looking-glass, well, Percy had no idea what that meant. He just knew that if the bad guy was prophesied to lose, hey, who was he to complain? It made life all the more easier for him.

The half-blood of the raging sea… that one was obvious, and also made Percy seriously depressed. He assumed the three students were Harry, Ron, and Hermione; he'd made good friends with them over the past month. But should he die then all shall fail — Percy really shouldn't have been surprised by that. It seemed to be the common theme in every quest he had ever received. Seriously, was it too much to ask just to be sent on a quest to a vacation resort in the Bahamas once in a while?

The veil was the Mist; that much was obvious.

But deciphering the prophecy wasn't the only problem. Sometimes Percy cursed Hermione's Annabeth-like research skills and bookishness; she had gotten dangerously close to figuring something out. He found himself walking towards the West Tower instead of the Gryffindor common room. He hadn't brought any paper with him, but there was an extra stack of parchment (really, though — who used parchment paper except for those medieval knights?) in the owlery.

When he reached the top of the West Tower, Percy was slightly out of breath — there were way too many stairs than seemed appropriate. Hundreds of wide-open owl eyes peered back at him, reflecting the faint moonlight shining through the owlery window. He was reminded, with some disconcertion, of Athena stalking him.

There was a rustle of feathers and Rue flew towards him out of the darkness, letting out a hoot in greeting.

"Hey," he greeted her. "You have to be quiet, I'm not supposed to be up here."

She hooted again, this time a little quieter. As annoying as they could be, owls were intelligent.

Percy uncapped Riptide and touched the cap to the hilt of the sword, making it shrink back to pen form with the ink exposed. The bronze ink glowed faintly, and he began writing a letter to Annabeth on a sheet of stiff parchment from the stack near the door.

Annabeth—

It's still 4:57 here in the UK, but I guess back in the land of strawberries it'll be almost 10:00. The jetlag on my first night here was real, I'm telling you. Also, please appreciate the effort I'm putting into writing these letters — being a dyslexic demigod is a struggle when you're not a genius like a certain Wise Girl.

I can't believe Chiron sent me on a quest to a school. Classes here is almost like real high school back at Goode — I even got a detention already. But don't freak out, because he was a particularly mean guy and I was just fidgeting with Riptide in class. (In pen form, don't worry.) And there's so much homework. Luckily Chiron arranged some stuff with Hecate so that I don't fail my magic classes, plus the wand thing helps a lot.

I feel kind of like a fairy waving a stick in the air sometimes, though.

Some stuff happened that I wanted to let you know about. Yesterday

Percy paused. Did he want Annabeth to know what was going on? He didn't want her to worry, but at the same time he knew that she would probably murder him for keeping things from her.

Yesterday someone saw me talking to Blackjack and asked me about it. I bluffed my way out, but I admit it, I'm a bad liar. Any advice?

He hesitated again, but quickly wrote down the prophecy before the voice in his head called the "overprotective-boyfriend" won over.

Here's the other thing I thought you'd want to know: I got a prophecy. Well, one of my new friends here did, but she told us about it and it's very clearly from the Oracle. There was the green smoke and that whole package. Here's what the prophecy said:

Thought once gone and back once more,
The sorceress sister opens the door
She shall seek and strive to avenger her past
But fail, and fall to the looking-glass
A half-blood of the raging sea
To find allies in students three

Percy hesitated, pen hovering above the page. His girlfriend was intelligent; she'd easily see that the prophecy was incomplete if he left out the part prophesying his possible death. It would be better just to tell her — it wasn't like she couldn't handle it. In fact, she'd probably be insulted by the fact that he had tried to hide it in the first place.

To find allies it students three
But should he die then all shall fail
And people see beyond the veil.

Don't worry, I won't fail. But do you have any ideas as to what it might mean? Who the sorceress is? You're generally smarter than me, so I thought I'd ask.

Things have been popping up here at school that are disturbingly related to our world. I could've sworn I saw a cyclops on school grounds the other day, and some kid came up to me on Thursday asking how things were back at camp. So I thought he was a demigod, and I asked him who his parents were, but then he got all salty and thought I was a "blood purist" or whatever. Then I told him he was the one who asked about camp, and he looked at me all weird and said he had asked no such thing and had no idea what camp I was talking about.

It was freaky. But anyway, how are things back at camp? Tell the Stolls that if they raid my cabin they're paying for it when I get back. I mean it.

Love, Percy

He read over his letter once and folded it up, tying it to Rue's leg with a piece of string. She bobbed her head and took off from the windowsill, flying at the distant moon and disappearing into the night.

After staring out the window for a moment longer, thinking about home, Percy left the tower and went back to the common room. This time he double-checked he was going to the right side of the room before heading up the stairs to the boys' dormitory — he was sure that if he got kicked down the slide again, he'd wake up the other Gryffindors. Plus, it had hurt. A lot.

Percy was reaching for the wooden doorknob to the dorm when the door opened from the inside, and Harry Potter stepped out.

So I'm a bit iffy about this chapter; I don't think it's my best writing nor does it really further the plot. I probably will go back and revise this a bit later on, but for now I figured I'd rather keep up the prompt updates.

That being said, I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

In response to a question asked in the reviews, I actually don't have any pairings planned for this fic. I mean, sticking with canon, we obviously have [Hermione, Ron], [Harry, Ginny], and [Percy, Annabeth]. But while I will include the canon romance from The Half-Blood Prince, it's not going to be the focus of the story.

I'd ask y'all about potential pairings you wanted to see other than canon, but unfortunately, I just don't think I have the writing skill to juggle so many different major conflicts throughout this story. Really sorry about that, but feel free to ship whomever you'd like!

Have a great weekend, and for my fellow students who are almost done with school for the year, 화이팅!

unfinished . nocturne