this is a very high-school-fanfiction cliche-type chapter where one "evil" antagonist recruits someone to do their bidding for some reason or another. i tried to rewrite this chapter, but honestly, i don't know where to start and i think my editing capacities have fallen flat and reached to maximum effort. i do like what the small bit says about Oliver Wood. i'll just take it as it is and leave you chuckling at the absurdity of the subplot. in other news, it's also one of the longest chapters i've produced thus far, mostly to try and duffise the cliche-ness of the plot. ah, as long as it's not a main plot, i'm not too fussed.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Terence knew that this was pitiful – beyond pitiful – but he couldn't shake the avid jealousy and hatred he had of Percy Weasley. He seemed to nuzzle into this nice little nest that he'd made for himself with his mates in no time at all. It didn't help that Terence did not talk to Adrian at all anymore, because he was glued to Percy. Those two did not do anything without each other and it was ridiculous. They ate the same foods, and did the same amount of homework. Adrian even had the bollocks to tell Terence to give him tips about how to transfigure a quill into a matchbox! Really? Terence wouldn't be surprised if Adrian invited himself over towards the Weasley household for Christmas just so he wouldn't be away from his precious Percy Weasley.

How did that redhead even fit into their lot? He was nothing like the rest of them...

And why did they even give a rat's arse about Percy's leg? He brought it on himself, so why was it so sad that Percy was in consistent pain? Terence felt like he was faking it a numerous amount of times, but he couldn't say anything for Adrian would probably toss Terence to the wolves despite the fact that Terence, Adrian, Marcus and Miles had been friends for literally forever. How did Weasley end up being a part of their little friendship circle? Percy Weasley was not worthy of it.

He tapped his fingers against the book that he'd borrowed from the library, trying not to glance over at the table just next to him where Percy and Adrian were exchanging Herbology notes.

Adrian was taking notes in Herbology now.

His friend was far gone.

If Adrian spent more time with Percy, then Terence wouldn't be surprised if his friend would suddenly sprout a few freckles, and have his dashing black hair turn into the dull red mandrake roots that Percy Weasley somehow passed off as hair. Terence was also pretty sure that they were wearing each other's robes, not like anyone could tell but he did recall that Adrian's robes were a little shorter than Percy's but now, they seemed to be the opposite.

Sharing robes? What next?

Underpants?

A few minutes later, Terence exited the library, fuming.

"Do my eyes deceive me or did Terence Higgs just leave the library? What's wrong? Lost your way to the dorms? Snape decided to scare you so he made you look at a book and Merlin forbid... read the title?" Miles joked before he shook his head.

"Nothing," Terence murmured in annoyance.

Miles' eyes lit up as he ran his hand through his shaggy blonde locks. "Let me guess, you've been following the flea and the Greek God again, aren't you?"

"He is not a Greek God," Terence mumbled. "And I don't believe that bollocks Adrian spat out about what he did with Alec Lestrange and that manticore. He weighs as much as a Flitterby for one! And I think that he looks like one too—Merlin, I loathe him, I loathe him, I loathe him."

Miles rolled his eyes. "Come on. He isn't that bad."

"Are you sure that he doesn't spike Adrian's juice with love potion?" Terence hissed out in cold annoyance.

Miles whistled, raising an eyebrow. "That's a claim to make. Adrian can smell Amortentia a mile away. According to him, it smells like himself—oh, that arrogant little git."

Terence knew how bitter he sounded like but he couldn't help it. He kept on peering at whatever they'd been doing and trying to detach themselves from them, but in reality, he wanted to include himself with them as much as possible. He wanted to know what was so bleeding special about Percy Weasley that Adrian had practically abandoned most of his other mates to hang out with him. Nothing was the same now. Marcus still hated him for dragging him to Pomfrey, and Miles was the only person that Terence bothered interacting with these days. How did Percy manage to do this to a five-year friendship?

"Did you have a look at Marcus this morning?" Miles suddenly mentioned, raising an eyebrow. "I'm pretty sure he's lost weight. I could see his bleeding ribs through his robes."

Terence looked beyond surprised. "Marcus doesn't have any weight to lose."

"Yet he still somehow found weight to lose," Miles murmured in seriousness, before shaking his head. "Pomfrey looked surprised. Apparently, she'd been calling him in between classes to feed him this nutritional potion but apparently, he needs to have eaten something in the last twelve or so hours for it to work. Apparently, she'd deduced – given that she gives it to Marcus about twice a day – that he doesn't bother eating at all now that he's been drinking that Merlin forsaken thing."

Terence swore he could feel his eyes bulge out of his sockets. "Did you talk to Marcus about it?"

"Yeah right," Miles looked agitated before he snorted. "Like that'll help. The minute I mention anything related to his father, Marcus leaves the room as if I've committed some kind of cardinal sin. I've sent the letters to my dad and I'm waiting for a reply but this could all go to hell very quickly."

"Marcus is killing himself," Terence rolled his eyes. He couldn't help but feel the resentment brewing in his veins. "Meanwhile, Ares and Aphrodite are busy with their Herbology notes."

Aphrodite was, doubtlessly, Pucey himself. Ares was Weasley, considering that all he'd done since he'd walked into the Slytherin dungeons was wreck havoc. From trying to steal Zeus' lightning bolt (and butchering the common rooms in the process) to 'cutting off Medusa's head' (saving Penelope from her own snake-like hair) to disbanding Terence's band of mates, it seemed to be the most fitting nickname that Terence could think of without it being too obvious that he loathed Percy Weasley enough that he would gladly throw him off the Astronomy tower if not for the fact that he might somehow come back as a Hogwarts poltergeist and haunt his every waking moment.

"That is not fair," Miles insisted, raising an eyebrow. "Ares is the reason we know about what's happening to Mars, alright?"

Roman Gods. Greek Gods. Oh my.

Why was it that everyone seemed to be under the spell from this metaphorical love potion that Percy seemed to be waddling around with? What was so brilliant about him? All he did was whine about how much work they had to do and sit down with his leg bent in a way that made Terence think that Percy was purposely trying to make his pain worse than it was. Bloody attention-seeking maggot.

"Whatever," Terence muttered because he did not have a good argument to that.

TERENCE put his small hands into his pockets and walked down the corridor, where he noticed that a brown-haired athletic Gryffindor was leaning down to the ground... Oliver Wood. He was trying to gather around a stack of essays that seemed to have fallen into a chaotic heap on the floor. When Oliver tried to pick up the first few, they fell back down along with the textbooks that he'd been holding. Portraits laughed and a sigh escaped Oliver's lips. A bunch of Gryffindors walked by and didn't pause to help him.

Terence found himself slowly leaning down and gathering Oliver's essays, noticing his untidy scrawl and how overdue these were. How did Wood get extensions on essays? He bet if he fractured all his bones, Snape wouldn't give him an hour's extension to the deadline. Wood seemed to have month-long extensions to deadlines. Typical privileged Wood.

Terence offered the stack that he'd collected and Oliver took them graciously.

"Thanks," Oliver said in a low voice before standing up again and turning to walk away.

Terence's heart hammered in his chest for a few seconds. "Wait. Stop. Before you go, you—"

Oliver paused and turned back to face the Slytherin with a bewildered expression etched upon his features.

"You don't like Percy Weasley," Terence said. It was a statement rather than a question.

Oliver replied by slowly but surely nodding his head.

"I don't," the Scot's voice lacked any confidence. He looked lean and athletic, but seemed to carry himself the way that Adrian or Percy did, i.e. like a bunch of droopy strings that could be snapped at any given moment. He could stand tall and look intimidating but just chose not to. This perplexed small and lithe Terence, whom had attempted to look intimidating multiple times but failed.

"What's it to you?" Oliver suddenly expressed.

Even his last statement didn't harbour any dislike. He sounded like he was whispering to himself.

"I don't like him either," Terence insisted, smiling weakly over at Oliver, whom raised an eyebrow. "I thought that maybe we could come up with a little prank of our own..."

"Prank?" Oliver reiterated as if he did not know the meaning of the word.

"Well, aren't you tired of seeing him smug and bloody proud of himself for no reason?" Terence articulated in an unwavering tone of voice, "I mean just a while ago, people put him on a bleeding throne!"

"And you want to prank him?" Oliver repeated again, thin eyebrow arched. Any rosiness in his face seemed to be amplified by his nervous flush.

"Don't you?" was Terence's only inquiry.

Oliver cleared the lump in his throat. "Well... well..."

"Don't you?" Terence repeated this statement in a higher and sterner manner.

Oliver shook his head. "If I end up being made a right arse of at the end of this—"

"No," the Slytherin replied in a stern voice. "Trust me. This is not going to end up with you being at the receiving end of this joke. I want to completely and utterly humiliate Percy Weasley."

Oliver cleared his throat. He seemed to be deliberating on the thought for a while. Oliver's grip on his textbooks seemed to be so strong that his knuckles had turned white. "No."

"You're a coward for a Gryffindor," that usually just about did it. Terence had long ago noted that Gryffindors normally couldn't stand being called cowards. They'd rather do whatever Terence implored them to do.

Oliver simply looked stunned instead of insulted.

"What?" Terence began. His voice was still unyielding and adamant. "Are you going to stand around there, moping and wishing that he'd strike himself with a bolt of lightning next time he has a fit or are you actively going to do something about it?"

Oliver looked like he was debating the thought again.

Terence just needed one more push. "We aren't going to kill him, lad. We're just going to embarrass him a little... Don't get your old lady knickers in a twist. Call it harmless fun."

"How..." Oliver paused for a second, looking like he was rolling the thought in his mind again. He looked like he was coming to a conclusion, "How harmless is it?"

Bingo.

SIGHING deeply, Miles shoved the plate towards Marcus for the fifth time that hour, only for Marcus to throw him a glare as he sipped through his small amount of tea. You'd think that Miles was trying to get him to do something impossible instead of getting him to shove something down his gob.

"Marcus," Miles swore that he had an aneurysm ready to burst. "If you don't ruddy well eat this, I will shove it down your throat. You don't scare me, you big old bag of bones."

Marcus looked away from Miles, curling up on his bed. How could anyone subsist on only tea?

"It's your favourite," Miles took the toastie into his hands and then broke one of the triangles into bits, to show what was inside. "Look at that? Tuna salad... and look, I've even had the house elves make your chips with cumin like you like. Took me forever to tell them exactly how you like it too. Crispy on the outside, and soft on the inside."

He placed that bit down and shoved the plate towards Marcus.

"I've even gotten you some sugared butterfly wings," Miles perked up, happily grinning. "I've even bought a jar of a bourbon biscuit spread so you could spread it on them. Bloody hell, I'll even eat them with you even though I absolutely despise bourbon biscuits."

Marcus' eyes did not deter from the window, where he seemed to be transfixed on the quiet and tranquil scenery.

"Marc, you're scaring me," Miles honestly said, his voice soft. "Come on. Eat something."

Marcus looked down at the plate and pushed it away. He looked down at the bed, pursing his lips together tightly. Another sigh escaped Miles' mouth but honestly, it was true. Marcus would die if he didn't eat anything and Miles didn't know how long anyone could subsist on only tea and nutritional potions.

"It hurts," Marcus mentioned, voice flat.

Miles looked up from the bed, raising an eyebrow towards his black-haired mate. "What?"

"He charmed it so whenever he's angry, my teeth start to hurt. He thought it was ruddy hilarious. Thought he was giving my 'big ugly damned teeth' a purpose. And when he's angrier, it makes me want to bloody kill myself. He's part troll too. He's always pissed, and when he's really fuming..." Marcus shook his head, playing with his bed sheets. "I can't find a spell or a potion to make it go away. The tea helps. The toothache I mean. It's—and if you tell anyone I've ever used this word, I will know, Bletchley—soothing."

Miles looked surprised. "He did what?" he hissed. "That sodding bastard."

"Bletchley..." Marcus threw him a look, playing with the rim of his cuppa. "Don't make me Obliviate you."

Miles only offered a soft smile before leaning forward and placing a hand on Marcus' shoulder and squeezing it in comfort. It was eerie seeing Marcus like this.

"Why the bloody hell didn't you say anything before, you rotten toerag?" Miles announced, infuriated. Merlin, he was just glad Weasel mentioned something. Else, he didn't know how long this would go on before someone noticed. "We could've done something before—"

Marcus stared back at Miles with a raised eyebrow. "Bletchley, if I eat something, will you shut up?"

"Thought you had a bad toothache, Flint," Miles teased.

Marcus rolled his eyes. "Nothing is as painful as hearing you talk, Bletchley," he grabbed a bit of the toastie that had already been halved and subconsciously started to tear off the crusts before he took a mouthful.

"I DON'T know about this," Oliver said, feeling hesitant about the plan that Terence had cooked up for them. He did not like Percy, but this didn't seem like harmless fun. It seemed a bit too extreme for his liking, and a ball of nervousness was sitting in his belly as they walked down to the Great Hall.

If Charlie ever found out about this, he'd sterilise him. Wandlessly.

Oliver caught sight of Percy standing beside Adrian, both animatedly talking about something. They always seemed to do that and it was uncanny how close those two were. They had no personal space to speak of and it left Oliver feeling uncomfortable. After only a week of the school year starting, those two had seemingly become inseparable. They shared everything in a way that made Oliver feel uneasy. He was pretty sure they shared parchment and quills, books, cloaks and food relatively often. He was not sure if they shared any personal hygiene products or any underpants and did not want to figure out if they did.

"You're not that bad on a broom, mate," Adrian insisted, shaking his head.

Oliver caught sight of Percy on a broom a few times. Oliver could only assume that a centaur had better coordination on a broom than Percy Weasley did.

Percy rolled his eyes. "I might fail Flying. I'd be the only one in all of Hogwarts that would fail Flying."

"I'm terrible on a broom too," Adrian insisted in a soft voice, only for Percy to shoot him a glare that was so cold that it could turn fire to ice.

"Madame Hooch told me that she thinks that you'd be a fine Chaser. You are not terrible on a broom. On contrary, I think you're bloody brilliant on a broom," Percy sounded highly irritated, as he rubbed his dodgy leg and leaned against the wall.

"What are you looking at?" Terence's voice took Oliver out of his reverie. They stood at the end of one of the long Hogwarts corridors, next to a portrait that seemed to be in eternal sleep. What was that useless thing doing hung up there anyway? It was always asleep, and never gave any comments, not even snide remarks about how his appearance like some portraits did. "Come on. Let's just get this into action."

"I'm not sure about this," Oliver was highly uneasy.

Terence raised an eyebrow at Oliver as if he was speaking nonsense. "Do you believe that the pain in his dodgy leg is real?"

Oliver glanced back at the way that Percy was standing, leaning away from his dodgy leg and into his good one. He didn't look to be in terrible pain. Oliver did not recall seeing Percy look like he was in pain from his leg. He did not clutch his leg in pain, or skip classes because the pain was too great. He did not seem to draw any attention to it unless someone else did. It made Oliver wonder if this was all a guise, but at the same time, what if it was real? If it was real, and they did this...?

Oliver vehemently shook his head, but a stone was settling in his stomach.

"I'll talk and you spike his tea with this potion," Terence muttered, moving to give Oliver a phial containing what seemed to be very violent purple-coloured sludge.

Terence told Oliver that it amplified whatever physical pain the drinker felt. It didn't alter the drink's taste. Oliver tried it before and felt nothing. Then Terence stubbed his toe and had him drink it again. The dull ache in his toe turned to a stabbing, jagged pain. If Percy really was in horrible pain, then this would dial it up to unfathomable extents. Oliver did not think that such potions were allowed to be brewed in Hogwarts. Still Terence seemed to have no problem acquiring it, but not only was Terence in Slytherin, but he had glowing grades in Potions.

"This isn't a prank," Oliver murmured, grabbing the phial from Terence. "And it's not funny."

Oliver had a look over at Percy and Adrian, whom were laughing nonsensically about something, before he shoved back the potion towards Terence and shook his head. He would not be influenced by a Slytherin and he would not go through with this. This was beyond a harmless prank. This was a dam waiting to break. This would backfire, and Oliver could feel disaster waiting to spur. Oliver did not want to be a part of it.

"You have a twisted idea of humour, mate," was all that Oliver said before he turned to the Great Hall.

DINNER was a tragic event. Terence had laced the tea himself, though it would be much, much easier if Oliver had done it without anyone else looking. Everyone's eyes seemed to be on Terence that particular night, especially since he'd been glowering and complaining for days. Everyone seemed to expect him to continue moaning on about—well, just everything under the sun.

He seemed surprised to see Marcus walking down to the common room table. He hadn't come down here for days, and whenever he did, he existed on nothing more than—

Just before Terence could finish the thought, Marcus swiped the cuppa from Terence's hand.

"Thanks, Higgs," Marcus snorted.

"I thought he made that for me," Percy motioned with an arch in his eyebrow. Terence wanted nothing more than to swipe that tea from Marcus and give it to Percy.

Marcus rolled his eyes. "Make your own, Weasel. Your leg is mucked up, but not your arms."

He turned to stir in a sugar cube, before adding a good amount of milk. Terence's stomach lurched but he didn't know what to say. All he could hope for was that Marcus did not feel any pain anywhere. Else this would be terrible—

Marcus took a mouthful of the tea and immediately, dropped the mug. His face had turned pale. In seconds, he brought his hands to his mouth. His eyes were watering and his arms were shaking.

"Marcus?" Terence called out in concern.

Marcus stared over at Terence with weary, dark eyes. He looked betrayed and slightly dejected for a few seconds before it melted... and then he lunged, attacking his lithe friend.

CHARLIE Weasley grabbed Marcus Flint by his frame and pushed him off Terence Higgs, whom seemed to be sporting a large black-eye and a multitude of bruises on his face. Terence was whimpering, looking like he was in a strong amount of pain and Marcus looked like he was in absolute turmoil.

"Calm down, Flint!"

"What is going on here?!" McGonagall seemed to wander towards them with a stern look on her face. She looked surprised at Marcus' sudden outburst, and honestly, there wasn't a student in the hall that wasn't looking at the spiff that had happened between the two. "Mr Flint—"

"Get off me!" Marcus exclaimed, hands into fists as he tried to hit Charlie square in the chest. For someone as emaciated and bony as he was, Charlie was surprised by how hard he could hit. He was pretty sure that the area that Marcus had been hitting him in was going to be significantly bruised later on. The hit only made Charlie grip tighter, refusing to let go of him.

Marcus dug his shiny black loafers into Charlie's muscular thigh. "LET GO!"

"Flint, come down to my quarters," Snape suddenly said, voice full of alert and aggression. "Now."

Marcus cried out in pain, nearly screaming in agony before he stuck his hand into his mouth and forcefully tore out one of his teeth. A spurt of blood came following, trickling down his mouth. His eyes were glittering with tears, and he looked close to passing out from the sheer agony that was coursing through his veins. Charlie's heart pumped hard through his chest. After Marcus extracted the tooth into his bare hands, his body seemed to collapse. His eyes closed, and the first thing that Charlie did was place him down to determine if he had a pulse.

"WHAT DID YOU GIVE HIM?!" Adrian suddenly exclaimed, shooting a darkened look towards Terence.

"I—I—" Terence looked very blue in the face. He had his hand pressed against his cheek.

"LOOK AT THIS, YOU SODDING BASTARD!" Charlie had never seen Adrian this terrified and angry before. His face had turned into a violent shade of red that he'd never seen on Adrian before today. It was uncanny and terrifying. "LOOK AT THIS!"

"Adrian, I..." Terence looked like he was about to faint himself.

Miles was staring at Marcus, mouth agape and stunned. He seemed to have nothing to say.

Percy immediately moved down towards Marcus, grabbed the tea off the table and took a nice big whiff of it to try and identify whatever Terence might've done to it. Charlie didn't know why Terence would spike Marcus' tea, since they were close mates. This seemed like a violent act, like something someone would do to someone if they truly hated them. This didn't add up in Charlie's mind.

Charlie grabbed the tea cup, took an inhale, and then felt his head go lightheaded.

"WHAT DID YOU PUT IN IT, HIGGS?!" Adrian called out in rage.

Snape grabbed the tea from Charlie in inspection. He did not have to sniff it to notice what it was, but judging from Snape's facial expression, Charlie wouldn't want to know what it was.

Meanwhile, Charlie had his fingers on Marcus' pulse, which was slowly fading away...

"I'll take him to the infirmary. He's looking ill. Merlin knows how he tore that ruddy tooth out of his mouth," Charlie prompted, standing up and carrying Marcus like he was nothing more than just a broken doll - albeit a broken doll that was a few inches taller than him. It was startling seeing Flint like this. It was even more terrifying to know that he was in so much pain a few seconds ago that tearing out his tooth seemed to be a viable option. Charlie was so alarmed that he did not know what to do. Five minutes ago, he should've taken Marcus to the infirmary, but it did not come to his mind until later. Marcus seemed very weak and very much in pain.

By the time that Charlie got down to the infirmary and laid him down, Marcus was drained of colour.

His pallor made Charlie think that he was dead. He wiped away the blood trickling from Marcus' mouth, and pushed him to his side. Pomfrey caught sight of Marcus' blue lips and turned her full attention to him.

SITTING by Marcus, Miles placed a hand on his shoulder. He'd already told Adrian and Percy that he'd be visiting Marcus first because he honestly felt like Marcus would be least inclined to see anyone else. He could remember Marcus complaining of a terrible toothache that prevented him from eating. He would not eat for days because of it, and this potion that his 'friend' had given Marcus (when it was meant for poor Percy) had made him go so manic that he tore off a bloody tooth. He would assume Percy would just chop off his extremities if he'd taken the bloody thing himself.

He couldn't believe that Terence could be this conceited and resentful.

"Marc?" Miles called out softly when he saw Marcus stirring slightly. He'd been sitting here for an hour, waiting for Marcus to even do as little as turn his head to one side but he'd been lying supine without moving a millimetre for the past sixty minutes. "Marcus?"

Terence made Marcus cry. Miles shuddered at the thought. He'd known Marcus for years, and he had never seen him cry. He'd never even seen him close to tears, not like this.

Marcus looked up to stare at Terence, eyes still brimming with tears.

"Bloody hell," Marcus turned to his other side. His robes had slid down, revealing his prominent spine which seemed to be bruised. "Bletchley, you are not the first face I want to see after I've just been knocked out."

Miles did not even crack a smile. "You rather I go get Terence?"

"Yeah, so I could finish pounding his face in," Marcus murmured.

Miles wasn't sure how Marcus managed to inflict that much damage to Terence, but he couldn't say he was feeling the least bit sorry for Terence either. Miles knew that Terence was jealous of Percy, especially with how close Adrian and Percy were being, but he would've never guessed that Terence would've stooped to this level of covetousness and envy (yes, even though he was a Slytherin. Terence just didn't seem that jealous, not to Miles. Not enough to potentially hurt Percy or anyone else. Badly.)

"I've got you this," Miles offered Marcus a cup of tea. It was charmed not to lose heat.

Marcus took one look at the thing that he used to subsist on and just shook his head adamantly. "I don't want any tea, Bletchley. Get that out of my face."

Miles stared down at the cuppa, feeling shocked. This stupid tea was the only thing that Marcus would have besides those crummy nutritional potions (that didn't even bloody work considering the fact that Marcus did not consume much else). Miles at least thought that the sugar and the milk content was better than subsisting on air, but Marcus seemed to be adamant on the fact that he needed as much nourishment as the Bloody Baron. Well, that was where he was going to end up with if he didn't consume anything.

"Come on, mate," Miles called out with a rare softness in his voice. "It isn't that bad. Whatever happened this morning. Call it a prank gone wrong."

Marcus shot a look towards Miles, a tired one. "I tore off my own tooth in front of the whole of Hogwarts and then cried like a baby. It is that bad."

Miles stared at Marcus' deathly serious face, and felt a shiver run down his spine.

BY the time that Miles had left the infirmary a few seconds ago, he tried to cheer himself up but his thought came back to Marcus, and then Percy. If Marcus was in enough pain to tear off his tooth, he'd assume that it would be something similar for Percy. Sure, they were Slytherin. Sure, they had an awful sense of humour. Sure, a bunch of them had parents that had been Death Eaters, but that did not mean that they were. There was nothing funny about putting someone in so much pain that they'd do anything to end it.

Miles accidentally crossed path with Adrian Pucey and Percy Weasley. Weasley was looking so pale he looked like he should've been the one sent to the infirmary. He had Adrian's cloak around his shoulders.

"You shouldn't go in just yet. Marcus is absolutely livid," Miles advised. "Have you seen Terence yet?"

Adrian looked like he was just about to bubble over with anger. "That bloody arsehole that intended to hurt my best mate? Yes, I've seen him... he tried to apologise but I just denied it straight off. He must be dumber than I thought if he thinks that we're going to forgive him for this. I'm not even a little sorry about how hard Marcus hit him... he-he made Marcus cry!"

Miles slowly nodded his head. He felt his stomach sink at the thought of the dinner debacle.

Noting the shell-shocked look on Percy's face, he had instructed Adrian to take him back to the dorms.