PERCY

Percy froze.

Some Annabeth-induced part of him almost laughed at the irony; as if the tables had turned, now Harry was the one catching him up late at night instead of the other way around.

Percy had preferred the reverse.

Harry crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow. "Where were you?" he asked, suspicion slightly lacing his voice.

Percy could tell he was attempting to appear threatening, but it was a little difficult to take him seriously because of his serious bedhead. That being said, his own hair probably stuck up similarly. "Just, you know, wandering the hallways. This place is huge."

"Hm." Harry snorted. "I s'pose it is. Couldn't sleep?"

Percy relaxed; he had obviously gained enough of Harry's trust in the month that they had been friends. "Yeah. Why are you up?"

"You woke me up. I couldn't sleep either after that, so I just waited for you to come back."

"Oh."

Harry narrowed his eyes; apparently he didn't fully trust him just yet. "You seem anxious. Did you find something important while you were 'wandering the hallways?'"

"Nope," Percy said, maybe a little too quickly. "I just sent an owl letter to my, uh, girlfriend back home."

Harry raised his eyebrows, evidently surprised. "You've got a girlfriend?"

"Yeah," he said, relieved to be off the subject of where exactly he had been in the halls; Harry had begun to sound like his mom. "Her name's Annabeth. She's really smart, and really pretty, with these blonde curls and gray eyes and —"

"Okay," Harry interrupted. "Yeah, okay. You going back to bed now, or…?"

Percy nodded. "Yeah, let's go. I'm pretty tired now."

In truth, he was still wide awake, but Harry didn't need to know that. They went back to the dormitory and settled into their respective beds; Percy lay in his bed staring at the ceiling with his arms behind his head, listening to the other Gryffindor boys' breathing, until he found himself dropping off to sleep — this time, thankfully, a dreamless one.

—l—

The next morning Percy paid for his little late-night excursion by waking up almost an hour later than usual. He stumbled out of bed, changed quickly into his school robes, and hurried down to breakfast, combing his hand through his hair a few times in an attempt to tame it.

Harry greeted him at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, and Hermione slid down the bench a little to make room for him.

"Thanks," Percy said, rubbing at his eyes. He piled a stack of pancakes onto his plate absentmindedly; the Hogwarts food, if paling in comparison to the meals at camp, was warm and tasted homemade.

"You're awake late," Hermione remarked, scanning the high-arching windows for any sign of the morning owls. "The owls are late, too, though, so I suppose it's alright."

"'S Sunday," Ron said through a mouthful of potatoes. "No one wakes up early on a Sunday 'cept for you, 'Mione."

"Hagrid's not here again," Harry said suddenly, looking up at the staff table.

Hermione's expression turned crestfallen. "You're right, he's not," she said anxiously. "We really must go talk to him. We've got to explain why we didn't take his N.E.W.T. class…"

"Have we got to?" Ron complained. "He can't blame us, I reckon no idiot's taking Care of Magical Creatures —"

"Ron," Hermione scolded.

He shrugged. "'S not my fault his class was rubbish. Blast-Ended Skrewts, my foot… He's got to understand that not everyone likes cozying up to monsters."

Percy frowned. They must have had monsters in the wizarding world, too, but apparently not quite as hostile. "Hagrid?" he interjected. "He's the half-giant, right?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, but don't go talking about that. Skeeter wrote some nasty stuff about his heritage back in third year, the blasted woman."

Percy poured a generous amount of maple syrup onto his pancakes. "And you guys stopped taking his classes?"

"Yeah, and we were his favorite students," Harry told him glumly. "I reckon he's pretty upset."

Ron was still resistant. "We've got Quidditch tryouts this afternoon, Harry! What d'you want to do, skip them to go cheer up Hagrid? You're the team captain, for goodness' sake!"

"I know," said Harry, stabbing at his eggs, "but we really need to talk to Hagrid. There's no time on the weekdays, you know that…"

Hermione sighed. "Let's just go visit his hut after your Quidditch trials. We'll be quick, it won't take long."

"You should go," Percy said. "It sounds like he'd be upset."

"Can you come with us?" Ron asked suddenly. "I think it'd be a lot better if there was someone he didn't have the right to get mad at there."

Percy shrugged. "If you want me to, but I don't know him."

Just then there was the loud flapping of feathers and occasional hooting as the owls flew in through the open windows with packages and envelopes. Percy still found the event pretty incredible, even though he'd seen it every day for a month now. He searched for Rue's gray white-marked plumage among the masses.

She soon swooped down from above and dropped a single envelope onto his plate, just barely missing the syrup-soaked pancakes. "Thanks, Rue," Percy said before she flew away with an owl treat in her beak, looking supremely proud of herself.

The envelope was addressed to him from Annabeth, and his heart leapt. Carefully, he opened the flap and pulled out the letter. His girlfriend's handwriting was neat and small as usual.

Dear Percy,

Wow, I'm impressed. You were awake at 4:57 in the morning? Gasp. And of course I appreciate your letters, Seaweed Brain. I know it must be difficult having the brain of a starfish.

Starfish have no brains, in case you're wondering.

Percy snorted, and Hermione looked over his shoulder. "What's your letter?"

"From my girlfriend," he said, still grinning, but he angled it away from her view. Annabeth had probably addressed some of his demigod-related concerns in her letter.

Remind me why I'm surprised you got detention in your first week of school, again?

At least you didn't blow anything up or get expelled. Remember your seventh grade? Oh, and sixth grade? Right — and every year before that?

Honestly, the least of your problems should be homework.

But still, I sympathize with your teachers. Remember when I had to teach you Ancient Greek at camp? You were awful, just saying. I might as well have been teaching a brick wall. Imagining you waving around a magic wand instead of Riptide like an idiot brings a smile to my face, though.

But someone seeing you talking to Blackjack isn't good. You're a Seaweed Brain for letting that happen, by the way. Next time, either talk to Blackjack somewhere where you won't be seen, or don't talk to him at all. It's not worth endangering your quest.

The prophecy: I thought of some possibilities, but none of them quite fit. I mean, I couldn't find any sorceresses who were "thought once gone and back once more". There's Circe, but I don't think she fits.

I'll keep looking. In the meantime, I will personally resurrect you and murder you if you die. Seriously. Do me a favor and stay alive — as cheesy as it sounds, I don't really like the idea of camp without you. Whose butt would I kick at Capture the Flag?

As for the instances of Greek mythology mixing in the world you're in, the only advice I have for you is keep your wits (if you have any), don't freak out, and figure the Hades out what's happening. Things at camp are getting bad. I don't know how affected your school is right now, but the messed-up Mist is hitting Camp Half-Blood hard. The illusions are patchy at best. Mortals are spotting camp as it is instead of a strawberry farm. They're seeing monsters everywhere. Things from the wizarding world — wands, weird creatures, even a kid named Graham Montague who apparently goes to Hogwarts are just showing up at camp. Our Hecate kids are strained and stressed. Imagine you had to summon a regular lake every day — that's basically how much they're exerting their powers.

If the person who attacked the Mist is anything like the other guys we've faced, they'll show themselves soon enough, probably wanting a confrontation. But researching more Greek mythology might help — hopefully your school has a library. It'd better.

I told the Stolls, but unfortunately for you it's too late. I mourn your cabin for you.

Love, Annabeth

The extra bit of humor at the end didn't do much to alleviate the seriousness of the paragraphs before, and Percy frowned.

"Bad news?" Harry asked, apparently seeing his expression.

"You could say that," Percy replied and folded up the letter, storing it away in his bag.

They finished eating breakfast quickly and left for the Quidditch pitch, which was like a football stadium except with less bleachers and with what looked like hula hoops set up a hundred feet in the air on either end. Percy gazed up at the pitch in slight awe; he hadn't seen one before, except for Ron having described it to him in enthusiastic detail, and it was admittedly pretty impressive.

Percy was not, however, so entranced that he didn't notice the brown-haired girl — Lavender Brown, he remembered — smiling unusually brilliantly at Ron. Ron looked startled and uncertain for a moment before grinning lopsidedly back, and as they continued walking, he puffed out his chest a little and took longer strides.

The other thing Percy noticed was Hermione's stony expression, and was tempted to roll his eyes at Ron's cluelessness.

When they reached the stadium Hermione marched off haughtily into the cold drizzle of rain without wishing Ron good luck. Percy followed after her, far from inclined to try out for a sport that required you to fly on broomsticks hundreds of feet in the air. After they had found a seat in the stands, Percy watched Harry get onto his broomstick and fly up, yelling for the attention of the kids lined up to try out. He was thoroughly unsuccessful in his attempt to get them to quiet down, and Percy assumed it was his first year as team captain. Swim team tryouts at AHS were rarely better.

Finally they quieted enough for Harry to instruct them to get into teams of ten and fly around the pitch. Immediately Percy saw that a lot of the people who had come were no better than he probably was. There was a group of girls who reminded him strongly of the Goode high school cheerleaders (well, the ones without flaming hair, red eyes, and a penchant for drinking demigod blood like it was Sprite): giggling, ditzy, and incredibly dumb. Another group was made up of eleven-year-olds, most of whom didn't even get airborne.

As the fifth group mounted their broomsticks, Harry roared angrily, "If there's anyone here who's not from Gryffindor, leave now, please!" Percy squinted and saw that their school ties were yellow and black — Hufflepuffs.

What was the point of trying out for a team that wasn't their own? He snorted.

Admittedly, Percy zoned out for most of the tryouts. He didn't know much about the sport, and he only paid attention when it was time for the Keeper's tryouts, which was the position Ron was trying out for.

Hermione seemed to think similarly, putting down her book to watch. He pointed out Ron to her in the students lined up in front of the stands; he was clutching his battered broomstick tightly and looking like he was about to puke.

"He's going to fail, he's going to fail," Hermione mumbled anxiously. "No, that's not right. Confidence. Confidence, Ronald, you can do this! — Oh, Percy, he's going to fail…"

Percy patted her on the back once and turned his attention to the pitch.

Harry was having each Keeper fly up to the hoops and try to block five throws from the newly selected Chasers. None of the first five blocked more than two until an unpleasantly-faced guy with broad shoulders saved four in a row. The last Chaser to go, Ginny Weasley, stepped up with a determined expression.

Suspiciously, Hermione had her own determined expression, too. Percy took note of her wand, which was subtly pointed at the Keeper McLaggen, but didn't say anything. Just as Ginny threw the Quaffle, Hermione flicked her wand and McLaggen moved toward the left hoop rather than the right hoop that the Quaffle was clearly aimed at; the crowd laughed and jeered. McLaggen dismounted, grinding his teeth.

The last person to go was Ron, who got onto his broomstick with a very green expression. Hermione took in a breath, probably about to wish him good luck, when another girl's voice called out from the stands: "Good luck!"

Percy glared down at Lavender Brown, who he was beginning to develop a distinct dislike for. She was every one of the flirting girls at school who assumed every guy had a crush on them. Hermione just flicked her wand again, and Lavender shrieked as her hair was yanked backwards by some invisible, very mysterious, force.

Fortunately, Ron saved every penalty, and Percy clapped with the rest of the stands as he joined the Quidditch team. Hermione jumped up and ran towards him excitedly, all irritation at him forgotten, calling, "You did brilliantly, Ron!"

Percy followed her, but hung back as Ron grinned at her and the rest of the team.

Harry arranged the next practice time for Thursday, and the four of them left for Hagrid's hut. It had stopped raining and the sun's rays were breaking weakly through the gray clouds. They came to a patch of pumpkins of unusual size, behind which was a large hut with a smoking chimney. Tethered to a post near the weirdly colored pumpkins was a giant sort of mix between a horse, rhino, and thing with wings. Percy jumped back, but Harry went forward and bowed.

It confirmed Percy's suspicion that wizards were insane.

"He does still look rather frightening, though, doesn't he?" Hermione said, and Percy silently agreed.

"Come off it, you've ridden him before," Ron replied.

Percy stared at the monster-creature-pegasus thing. "What is he, exactly?"

"A hippogriff," said Harry, who had moved forward and began cautiously stroking the feathers on the thing's — hippogriff's — head. "His name is Buckbeak. In third year we —"

"Oi!" A giant-like man with a wild beard came out of the hut in a flowery apron, waving his hands at them. "Git away from him, he'll bite yer fingers off! —Oh, it's yeh lot." He looked at them for a moment before heading back inside, slamming the door shut behind him so forcefully that the entire hut seemed to shake.

"Oh," said Hermione, looking worried.

Harry, undeterred and unsurprised, marched up to the door and banged his fists against it. "Open up, Hagrid, or I'll blast this door down!"

"Whoa," Percy said immediately. "Aggressive much? Chill out, dude."

"Harry, you can't —" Ron began.

"Yeah, I can," Harry said, already pulling out his wand. "If he —"

But just then the door flew open and the half-giant Hagrid glared down at them, the look made slightly less effective by the yellow floral apron tied around his waist. "I'm a teacher, Potter! A teacher! How dare yeh threaten ter break down my door!"

"I'm sorry, sir," Harry said, not sounding sorry at all. He put extra emphasis on the last word.

For a moment, Hagrid looked taken aback. "Since when did yeh call me sir?"

"Since when did you call me Potter?"

Touché, thought Percy. Hagrid snorted. "Oh, very clever. Very amusin'. That's me outsmarted, innit? All righ', come in then, yeh ungrateful little…"

They entered the hut as he held the door open for them, mumbling grumpily, and Percy looked around, interested. It was a spacious, but cozy, area, with a fireplace at one end with a copper kettle hung over it, a massive bed with a quilt on the other, and — okay, maybe this part wasn't so cozy — hams and pheasants hanging from the ceiling. That part was weird.

"Well?" Hagrid said irritably as they sat around the large wooden table. "What's this?" Seeming to notice Percy for the first time, he added, "An' who's this? Don' reckon I've seen him before."

"That's Percy," Hermione said with a note of relief in her voice. "He's the transfer student from America. We're, erm, friends now, I think."

Percy waved, a little awkwardly. "Hi."

Hagrid grunted. "So why're yeh all here? Feelin' sorry for me? Reckon I'm lonely or summat?"

"No," Harry said immediately. "We just wanted to see you."

"We've missed you," Ron added.

Hagrid snorted, making all of them jump. "Missed me, have yeh? Yeah. Righ'."

He stomped toward the kettle and poured something in — with his annoyed demeanor, Percy wouldn't have been surprised if it was poison. Then he distributed the brown liquid into three huge cups and slammed them down in front of Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Percy was about to protest when Ron poked him and shook his head while making a disgusted expression at his tea. Tastes nasty, he mouthed, miming puking, and Percy nodded, suddenly glad he hadn't been given a cup.

"We really wanted to continue Care of Magical Creatures, Hagrid," Hermione said timidly. "We really did."

Hagrid snorted again. "Yeah. Righ'."

"We couldn't fit it into our schedules," Harry tried explaining. Percy watched the table, wondering why he had agreed to come.

"That's how it is, innit?" Was all Hagrid said.

"Hagrid, we would've continued, we just…"

Percy, being the ADHD demigod he was, zoned out of the conversation, letting his eyes wander around the hut. The fire crackled merrily, casting a golden shadow on the floor. It gave off a pleasant warmth, and Percy had the sudden urge to ask Hagrid if he had any marshmallows. Preferably with chocolate and graham crackers, but that was unnecessary icing on the cake. He lingered on the large window to the left of it, which was stained but still usable, taking in the school grounds and the woods that were visible behind it.

Just then, Percy thought he saw a flicker of movement outside the window: an irregular shadow at the edge of the Forbidden Forest that soon melted into the trees. He leaned backwards a little to try and identify what it was, causing the others in the cabin to look at him.

"What's wrong, Percy?" Ron asked, trying to see what he was looking at. Percy had the sneaking suspicion he was just running away from their conversation with Hagrid.

"Hm? Um, nothing, I think," Percy said. "You guys keep talking. I'm just going to go… I forgot something at the library, I'll be back."

He left them to their talk, Ron casting a long, mournful glance outside. The sun was still high in the sky, casting a pleasant warmth on the school grounds, but its light was immediately blocked out when Percy stepped into the forest. He walked further in slowly, keeping to what looked like a path — but then again, it was just as likely a trail of monster footprints leading him to his doom. With his luck, it was a definite possibility.

The forest got darker until it might have been nighttime, and each occasional flutter of wings or crack of a branch sent chills up Percy's spine. He peered into the thin darkness apprehensively, fingers itching to unsheathe Riptide for its familiar faint bronze glow. At this point, any light other than the hazy gray mist would be welcome. But just in case, Riptide was only a last resort — with the failing Mist, someone seeing his sword would be dangerous. Percy tried not to think about the night before, and the fact that Malfoy had, without a doubt, seen Riptide. Down the end of it, as well. Percy resisted the urge to facepalm.

He had the weirdest feeling that he was being followed — a sort of prickling at the back of his neck, a vague uneasiness in the pit of his stomach. It was an unsettling sensation. He told himself it was nothing, but the naturally creepy atmosphere of the place didn't help at all.

There was a noise behind him, and Percy whirled around, hand reaching to his pocket. There was nothing there, only the silent, eerie tree roots that were destined to trip him. He glared into the empty space. Why had he come here, again? For some reason, he couldn't really identify a reason except that the shadow had looked suspicious — the hulking form of the Minotaur he had killed when he was twelve and later during the Battle of Manhattan, maybe, or the slithering silhouette of a dracaena. But that wasn't possible, was it?

The Mist thing, of course.

Still, Percy had a hard time understanding why exactly he had had to explore the dark, creepy forest just then, except that he was a Seaweed Brain.

After a hundred more feet or so, Percy was ready to turn around and go back to the hut, satisfied that there was nothing to investigate. But just then, there was a snap, a low snarl, and a piercing scream.

Dun dun dun...

Not much to say about this chapter; hope you enjoyed it. Drop a review/favorite/follow on your way out, and thank you for reading!

unfinished . nocturne