Percy leaned back in the chair he was sitting in, gazing at the Headmaster.
"You called for me?" He asked, seemingly bored as he stared at Dumbledore. He disliked the old man already, although he wasn't entirely sure why. He could sense something underlying in the man, something not quite sinister, but… close. Dumbledore was clearly used to calling the shots, and the fact that he had no power over Percy probably unnerved him. After all, he was here on the Gods' wishes, and he could easily leave as quickly as he arrived. Regardless, he had no time for the man to try and charm him with polite discussion, and he made that very clear.
Dumbledore's eyes lost their normal cheerful glint as he sat forward in his seat, clasping his hands together on the desk.
"I have some… contacts in the Forbidden Forest." Dumbledore started, "There have been some reports of something stirring in the forest. Something from your world." He peered down at Percy from the top of his glasses. "I can only hope that you will deal with this for me, and not expose your true purpose to the school."
Percy raised an eyebrow. "Monsters, here at Hogwarts? You're sure about this?" He asked, distracted, thinking about how monsters could be in Europe. The Gods moved to New York hundreds of years ago, and everything should've come with them.
Dumbledore settled back in his seat, delicately placing his arms on the armrests. "I am confident in my sources. I do not pretend to know the ways of your world, but the evidence is quite clear." He said calmly, not revealing anything about what he thought. "If you need anything, I will do my best to assist. I will ask you to meet with me again soon, to discuss your involvement with helping the Order. But for now, it can wait." He said, in clear dismissal.
Percy stood up and nodded to the Headmaster, glad to just leave his presence. He exited the grand doors of his office, thinking about what this meant as he jogged down the stairs. Every single thing belonging to Greek mythology should have moved over to America with the Gods. Yet, there are still some here lurking in Scotland, where the gods have never even been. He supposed it was possible that they remained from the God's time in Europe and simply wandered throughout the lands. It seemed unlikely, but possible.
The only other option would throw off the course of his mission, and he dreaded to even think about it. If monsters were in Europe, it could mean that they, or something that controlled them, were here for a specific reason, and he doubted that they were here just for him. It could mean that Voldemort was teaming up with the monster part of the Greek world. If that happened, he would need backup, as he couldn't take them all out by himself. Although...
He paused in his thinking, and looked down at his hands, closing them into fists and reopening them. He looked away, shaking his head. He didn't want to get cocky about his own abilities, but revealing his world to the wizards would be dangerous.
He could handle it on his own for the time being, and he could call in others when he needed it. If it came to it, he could handle the wizards just assuming he was some type of half-breed. Or that he was the only one of his kind. Either would work. He needed to protect his world as much as he could. They were the last resort.
As he walked silently down the empty hall, his unbuttoned robes billowed behind him. It was early in the morning on a Saturday, and hardly many students would be awake, especially near Dumbledore's office.
As he mulled over what type of monster he would be fighting, he saw something in the corner of his eyes. A shadow was hiding behind a wall, and he turned his head sharply to look at it, tensing up. He abandoned all subtlety, allowing whoever was there to know he was aware of them. He gripped the wand tucked inside his robes with one hand, while the other held Riptide. He waited for whoever was there to show themselves. The shadow disappeared behind the wall, and he could hear footsteps walking away.
He waited until he could tell that he was completely alone, before he allowed himself to relax. You could call him paranoid, and he wouldn't disagree. He still didn't know how many people could see through his cover. If he wasn't on edge, he could instantly be revealed as a foreigner infiltrating Hogwarts. He could do magic of course, and Hecate did her best to pump him with knowledge before he left, but he was still relatively untrained.
And after Tartarus, he believed it was well within his right to be a paranoid son of a bitch.
He shook himself off, relaxing his muscles, before walking away. It was time to go take care of something.
Percy stood in front of the Black Lake, thinking about the fight he had in the woods. Nothing that he couldn't handle, but it was surprising to see three monsters gang up to attack him. He could hardly tell what they were in the thick foliage of the trees and the darkness, but he knew them. One empousa and two harpies. He dreaded to think about what this meant. It was becoming quite unlikely for them to just be there. He knew they were there for a purpose, and the thought scared him. The worlds were going to mix, but he was going to try and stop that.
Percy gazed into the inky abss. He could hear the wildlife chattering, feeling his presence. He snorted at something a particularly sarcastic fish had to say, before noticing that someone was approaching him.
He tensed, still on alert after his scuffle in the woods. He turned ever so slight, and relaxed out of his fighting stance when he recognized it as the female who could see through the Mist. Hermione, he reminded himself of her name.
It was quite unfortunate that it turned out one of the so-called Golden Trio could see through his cover. Although he was only here to protect Harry, that was extended to protecting his closest friends, specifically Ron and Hermione, as they helped Harry through what he must accomplish. Therefore, he was watching over her too.
It seemed that she approached him alone, although he saw Ron and Harry standing in the background, waiting for her.
Before she could even open her mouth, Percy beat her to it. "Can I help you?" He asked, an eyebrow raised. She blushed red, but squared her shoulders. She started to say something, but stopped.
"What's on your shoulder?" She asked, confused.
Percy craned his neck, and dusted his shoulders off. It was gold dust from the monsters. Crap. Hopefully she wouldn't think too much of that.
His mouth quirked into a smile. "Leftovers."
She scrunched up her face. "From what?"
"Slytherin stuff. Don't worry about it." He said dismissively. "What do you need?" He asked, shifting the focus of the conversation. Percy could tell that she hadn't really thought through her plan of talking to him. It was easy with how much she paused, and appeared nervous.
"Who are you? And what are you doing here?" She asked him, bluntly.
Percy was shocked on the inside, although he didn't let her know it. She was more forward than he gave her credit for. Regardless, it was time to put his acting skills to work.
"I'm a student?" He trailed off, laughing nervously. "I'm sorry, what are you getting on about?" He put on his best "concerned" looking face. "I know we hardly crossed paths, but I would hope you don't ask that to every student you don't talk to."
She appeared to lose her confidence and started to stutter very slightly. "I- I mean I've never seen you before a few days ago. You have an American accent, the only one in the entire school. I think I would remember that. Ron and Harry both seem to like you, even though you're a Slytherin. Despite that, I can't remember one single thing about you for the love of my life!" She ranted, frazzled.
Percy tilted his head, and gave a coy smile. "I don't know if I should be offended or not that you haven't noticed me." He said, and she instantly flushed again. "Well, to answer your questions, yes I was born in America, but we moved here when I was eleven, just in time to start Hogwarts. I've been here since first year. You probably don't know much about me because I like to keep to myself, and I am a Slytherin after all. Your lot hates us." He said, trying to explain himself without sounding defensive.
As Ron and Harry watched Hermione talk with Percy, they both frowned. Albeit, for very different reasons.
Harry thought about seeing Percy come out of the Headmaster's office. Why did Dumbledore want to talk with Percy, but never give Harry the time of day? It was so unfair. Percy wasn't a prefect, or a Quidditch captain, or the one who has a cursed scar and is expected to take down Voldemort, all while getting bad press from the Ministry and made to look like a foolish dunderhead. No, Percy was none of these things. He was just a regular student, yet Dumbledore didn't ignore him. He only ignored Harry.
Perhaps he was just being jealous and bitter. Although he didn't want to admit it. Dumbledore was a headmaster of a school after all, and sometimes he needs to talk to students. Harry shook his head as he kept walking. He couldn't think of one possible reason Dumbledore would need to talk to Percy.
He was broken out of his thoughts by Ron making a face. "Do you think she really does have a crush on him now?" He asked Harry, keeping his eyes trained on the pair. "She claims she doesn't, but I reckon she does. She's practically obsessed with the guy now. Staring at him all throughout breakfast, and now she's interrogating him. A Slytherin, of all people!" He said, unhappily.
Harry shrugged, keeping quiet. It was quite unusual that Hermione had latched onto Percy, but Harry was beginning to secretly agree with her suspicions. Something about Percy unsettled him. It was unnerving how perfect he seemed, and Dumbledore's special interest in him. He was good-looking, a good student, mostly kept to himself yet charming. He reminded him of an evil Cedric.
Cedric. His chest panged at the thought, and he looked down at the ground, suddenly wishing that he was anywhere else. Cedric was still a sore topic for Harry to talk, or even think about. There was another person who had died for Harry. If Harry had just taken the damn goblet, he would still be alive. If Harry just didn't exist, Cedric would still be alive right now.
Harry stopped his depressing thoughts by Hermione returning to them. "Finally!" Ron groaned. "Thought you would never stop drooling over that bloke." He muttered, turning to walk back to the castle.
"I do not drool over him!" Hermione exclaimed. She seemed flustered, and marched away to the castle, leaving the boys to catch up with her.
"What do you call that then?" Ron demanded, as they hurried to the Gryffindor common room. "You're stalking him. What other reason could you have? At least you could've chosen someone else other than a bloody snake."
Hermione stopped abruptly, and Harry almost crashed into her. "A snake?" She barked out, amused. She lowered her voice. "If you don't seem to remember, you were practically singing praises about him earlier. And now you're calling him a snake?" She whispered furiously. She sniffed, turning her head away from them, and continued walking quickly. "I just think there's something suspicious about him, and I want to get to the bottom of it."
Ron rolled his eyes, and Harry looked away. He didn't want to upset his best friend any further, but he silently agreed with Hermione. No one from Slytherin could be trusted, after all, and Percy did act strange.
He vowed to himself that he would just watch him. He might be a Death Eater, after all.