lads, the reason i'm forgetting to update is because i rarely get review notifications on this thing to remember (yes, honestly.) so drop some feedback. make me make this fanfiction a priority again! i promise i do not bite.
warnings still applicable. i'm not reiterating them again. they've been hammered in past 40 and so chapters. they only heavier and heavier.
review reply:
Phoenixx Rising: yes, Percy is really in an interesting... headspace. writing this was actually so interesting because even though i'm writing Percy, i honestly couldn't tell what he was going to do... at any time! writing the reuniting scene was amazing though :)
Chapter Forty-Five
That exceptional evening, Molly hit her head over a scorching tray of pistachio brownies and had been hoping to put a little ice on the small little bump on her head as soon as possible—least her head swelled up so big that she'd think that she was the Minister of Magic.
That was before she opened the door and was hit by a wave of ice-cold water and four blokes.
"FRED! GEORGE!" Molly waved about her short, pudgy arms in anger as she sat up from where she was sitting. She felt like she'd been hit by a wet Bludger. "THIS IS NOT FUNNY!"
"IT WAS PERCY!" Fred and George immediately exclaimed, an orange raincoat at their feet. "HONEST!"
"I DON'T CARE IF..." Molly felt like she'd been hit by another Bludger, but this time in her chest. "Percy...?"
Her honey-rimmed chocolate brown eyes stared over at what she assumed to have once been her fifteen-year-old Percy. He was dressed in a pair of thin burgundy trousers and a honey-coloured button-down that had been fastened up to the topmost button. There were dark bags evident underneath his big blue eyes that were so prominent that they looked like he'd been socked twice. Molly couldn't help but attack him and pull him close to her frame. Judging from the feel of Percy's ribs and spine thud against her freckled hands, Molly was sure that he'd returned to his birth weight.
Percy had tossed his umbrella and thrown it aside to the kitchen. He did not hug her back and seemed to be waiting for this embrace to end—just the way she wanted it!
Throwing the umbrella away didn't seem to be a good move, because just when Molly was probably about to give Percy a disc herniation from her hug, another surge of water came from the kitchen and they were all hit—not only by the icy water but also with Molly's many batches of hot, hot, HOT! pistachio brownies.
"Percy?" Molly had kept her hand on his elbow as they'd been assaulted by their pudding. He stared over at her with a look of displeasure, probably due to the fact that he looked like he'd walked through a wedding cake. Hermes seemed to think so, because he greeted Percy by attacking him with his beak. The owl immediately started to dig into Percy's hair for pistachios. "Percy as in my favourite child Percy?"
"Mum!" Percy exclaimed, turning into the same shade as his trousers as he stared at his owl with a look of a grudging excitement. "I—I... I..."
His flushed deepened dramatically, which Molly hadn't thought was impossible.
"I... I seem to have misplaced my words for this occasion," Percy suddenly blurted out.
Molly couldn't really believe it. "Is it really you? I wouldn't have recognised you if—"
"Honestly woman," Fred decided to say, a grin finding its way to his face as he turned to give a playful slap on Percy's back, whom in turn looked like he had accidentally swallowed a bad batch of liquorice wands. Hermes glowered over at the twin. "You call yourself his mother? Can't you tell that he's Percy?"
"Did we find your words for ya, Perce?" George said, prodding away at Percy's side.
"I would not have used those words. Instead, what I would've said was—what I mean to say is... what I'm attempting to get right out with is... what Fred and George are insisting that I..." Percy began.
Percy furrowed his eyebrows, and he suddenly said: "Mum, I didn't mean to cause the great flood of Devon!"
"Of course you didn't! Oh Merlin, it doesn't matter! I'm so chuffed! You're here, right in front of me! Godric, Percival, it's been six years since I've last seen you or heard from you! It's almost as if you were wiped out of existence. I don't even know what to begin to say..." Molly's grip tightened around his frame, and then she pulled away only to place a hand on his cheek. "Oh, I am so, so happy to see you!"
"Mum, please," Percy begged, turning into an interesting shade of blue.
"Right, right! I'm sorry," Molly pulled away, her heart beating wildly in her chest. "Do you fancy a cuppa?"
"What?" Percy called out in confusion as he rubbed his neck. "Oh... yes! Tea! Of course! Wait... no!"
Molly was not sure what to make of this. Percy was acting like having a cuppa was a life or death decision.
"Oliver, love, you'll been awfully quiet since you've been in," Molly stared over at shaggy-haired bloke, noticing how he sulked in the corner as she fawned over Percy. "Why don't we both go put the kettle on, have a nice cuppa together and talk about what's bothering you? Percy, you could have a cuppa too. Oh wait, you didn't— um... I—do you want a biscuit? I did make brownies but—"
"Mum, Percy doesn't want a cuppa," Fred insisted, grabbing Percy's arm. "We're taking him to the shop!"
"What shop?" Percy echoed, and that was when he stared at George—really staring at George. All his blood seemed to have taken a trip to Diagon Alley, because he was absolutely colourless.
"Percy?" Fred squeaked out, only for an eruption to occur. "Are you—?"
"GEORGE, WHERE IN GODRIC'S GOOD NAME IS YOUR OTHER EAR?!" Percy's eyes were wider than dinner plates and he was hyperventilating as if he'd done a few games of Quidditch.
"Oh, this?" George pointed to his missing ear, and then grinned.
Percy didn't find this amusing. "No, the other ear," he spat out, as he collapsed on old, scarlet loveseat.
"It's a long story," George decided to say.
"A very long story," Fred nodded his head.
Both perked up and asked in unison, "Do you want to hear it?"
Percy glared at them, "No." They frowned, but looked like they were about to launch into the story anyway.
"Maybe you should show Percy your shop later, sweethearts," Molly said before they went off about the war, Death Eaters and Harry. Not exactly light teatime conversation now (not that Percy wanted tea...) "Percy needs his rest after all! He's had a long—um—"
"Bath," Percy mumbled under his breath, as he smoothed out his clothing. Hermes had stopped paying attention to him now that he wasn't covered in brownies.
"You're right, mum. We'll take him later," Fred said, surprising Molly.
Molly smiled warmly. Who said that the twins didn't value her opinion one bit?
Turning to the kitchen to see that Oliver was already there, dry and nursing a cuppa, she sat down on the stool and poured a cup for herself. As she hummed, she tried to stop herself from going frantic. Percy was here, and she hadn't tidied up his closet, done up his laundry, put back those stack of books that Remus (whomwasdeaddeadead) had borrowed and when was the last time that she'd cleaned Hermes cage...?
She nearly dropped her cup when she heard a POP sounded out along with the sounds of the twins boisterously calling out, "Mum... it's later!"
TERENCE Higgs was standing outside Marcus Flint's flat, a feeling of complete apprehension, discontentment and complete terror sat in his narrow shoulders.
It may be due to the fact that standing beside him was an absolutely furious Oliver Wood. He looked like he was about to tear down buildings with the sheer force of his wrath. Every time he breathed out, his humongous chiselled chest expanded and Terence felt like he had to stay out of Wood's way because he didn't want to turn into a vicious fluid any time soon. Terence's stomach was flipping faster than the pancakes that his mum used to make for him when he was a little nipper. At the thought of his mum, his shoulders slumped down in defeat. His hand gripped tightly on the phial that he was holding, before he decided to pocket it into his tattered, once-tasteful forest green robes.
Marcus opened the door whilst attempting to balance an overgrown child to his hip.
"Marcus, I'm going to kill him," Oliver sounded out all in one breath.
Terence nearly choked on his own saliva when he caught sight of Marcus. Never had he seen such big bags under someone's eyes and never had he seen Marcus so happy in his life. Terence nearly wanted to search the house for giant-sized phials of euphoria-inducing elixirs.
"Wood, you can't kill him," Marcus reminded him. "Weasel still owes me two Sickles for the hot chocolate I bought him when we were first years."
Oliver shoved a couple of Sickles in the front pocket of Marcus' robes. "I don't care. I'm going to—"
"Higgs?" Marcus' part-troll baby started to cry but Marcus was so stunned he'd ignored her. "What the hell are you doing here? How did you even know where I live?—Godric, you smell worse than-than me!"
Terence's eyes were locked on the gap between Marcus' teeth, where his middle tooth once was. A well-deserved pang of pain made his chest ache.
Oliver's eyes turned to Terence's face. He looked like he was about to pound it in.
"I thought my presence would denote more excitement," Terence weakly stated.
Marcus raised an eyebrow. "Higgs, you seemed to have hit your head hard during the Battle of Hogwarts, because from what I remember, last time we saw each other, you had me pinned down to my bed as you force-fed me Cockroach Clusters. I couldn't get all the legs out of my mouth for weeks. You're lucky I didn't slam the door in your bloody face the minute I saw you."
Terence was exceedingly lucky that Marcus hadn't slammed the door in his face the minute that he saw him.
"Why didn't you?" Terence echoed. Marcus gave him more chances than he'd like to admit.
Marcus snorted; a sardonic smile found its way to his lips. "Do you want me to slam the door in your face?"
Oliver stepped inside and actually did slam the door in Terence's face, only for Marcus to open the door back up again, shooting an irritated look towards the Scot.
"What?" Oliver said, noticing how irritated Marcus looked like. "It's not my fault that the sick bastard deserves it for every bloody time he slammed the door in your face when you were just about to leave your dorm." He glanced over at Terence, "Do you think I don't remember, Higgs?"
"Shut up, Wood," Marcus reminded him. "It's my flat."
"You're not very good at being a Slytherin here, Flint," Oliver reminded him, before taking the baby from Marcus' arms. His entire face lit up as he pulled her up. Her chubby hands balled into fists. "Hey, Avy! Look at how fast you're growing up. It seemed like just a week ago, you were a newborn babe."
"It was a week ago, Wood," Marcus said in contentment. "Get in, Higgs. It's bloody hot outside."
"You aren't going to be doing anymore tricks with chocolate frogs, are you? Remember last week when you kept on letting chocolate frogs fly out the window? Even though it's bloody blistering outside," Oliver said, his anger dissipating into good humour and a bright beam. "And then I visited you that night—I was so sloshed—and ended up drowning over that accidental chocolate river that you had made just outside your flat. Merlin, I'm going to get back you for that."
Marcus scoffed. "And drowning in chocolate bothers you? You drown yourself after every game you lose!"
Terence only offered a weak smile as the two chattered on. He hadn't had a civil conversation with him since first year and seeing Oliver and Marcus go about it made him feel jealous.
Terence could lucidly remember his seventh year, which was filled with days of putting itching powder in Marcus' hair and arse (this was only funny until Marcus nearly tore off his skin from all the scratching), spitting into Marcus' tea cup when he wasn't looking and Adrian's owl eating away at Marcus' subpar homework minutes before he had to hand in an assignment.
Marcus gestured for Terence to follow him in and then just as Terence willed himself in, he was hit by a pair of Marceline's hand-me-downs and a pair of non-descript black underpants.
"Go take a shower, Higgs, before my sweet, innocent child suffocates," Marcus stated.
"And your sweet, innocent mate," Oliver insisted, offering a smirk.
Marcus only rolled his eyes and turned to look over at the Scot, "You're as sweet as a pack of apple rings and you're just about as innocent as Pansy Parkinson after a few shots of firewhiskey."
Feeling very out of place, Terence nodded his head towards Marcus, even though the part-troll wasn't paying any attention to him anymore. With slumped shoulders, he walked the bathroom was, not bothering to ask for directions because Marcus' flat was smaller than a house elf and he didn't want to interrupt the two blokes that were invested in each other's companies.
Terence hadn't hot a nice hot bath for ages. The warm water hit his stiff shoulders and he relaxed, easing into the feel. His stomach dropped when he heard Marcus laugh. He hadn't heard Marcus laugh in so long he actually forgot that it was possible to make him laugh. He also forgot that Marcus' laugh was so bloody annoying that Terence wanted to grab one of his plimsolls and smack it over the part-troll's head.
As he went on with his shower, he used as little of Marcus' shampoos, washes and lotions as he could. He spent ten minutes just surveying the triage of feminine hair products lying about. His eyes fell onto the bathroom counter, where a bouquet of dying red roses sat. The walls were pale and glittery. The whole bathroom smelled vaguely of something floral, something that was not from the bouquet. In other words, a woman had definitely been in here... recently, and was definitely living here with Marcus, and had possibly given birth to Marcus' one-week-old-but-looked-three-years-old part-troll baby.
Did he know that Marcus had a bird living with him before his shower? No.
Terence wondered why he hadn't received a wedding invitation. It may be because in sixth year, they used an Engorgio on Marcus' fingers before an exam and he could barely write the little that he did know about Care of Magical Creatures because each finger looked to be the thickness of a Whomping Willow's branch, or maybe because in their seventh year, they had once turned all of Marcus' school robes into a frilly pink, and for a whole semester, Marcus had blokes scornfully hit on him...
He'd worn Marceline's robes and pocketed the phial from his other robe. He felt himself grow ill at the thought of the bollocks he'd pulled during school for no other reason than the fact that Adrian didn't like Marcus anymore, so that meant that he and Miles couldn't associate with Marcus either.
He felt ill at the thought of what he was going to Marcus now...
BY the time that Terence had left the bathroom, he was surprised at the sight of Penelope and Oliver sitting beside Marcus, chattering on about. There was no moment where Marcus interrupted her and told her to leave him alone and go play with her giant books. Oliver seemed to just about barely stand her with the way his lips kept on curling up whenever she said anything that was remotely irritating (read: everything she said).
Penelope met Terence's eyes, and then a blazing fury took over. It was like she knew why he was really there.
Terence felt his stomach tie up in knots, as she glowered over at him. Marcus' smile faded away in seconds, as Penelope's glower intensified.
"I'm done playing mortal games," Penelope decided, her eyes darkening. "This is the last straw."
Terence tried to explain. "I—"
"Ares sent you," Penelope mumbled, standing up from her position. "Didn't he, Terence?"
Terence felt like he was suffocating, but he shook his head. "Athena."
"Let me make an assumption," Penelope said, before she wandered over to him, grabbing the phial that he'd just shifted from his old robes into Marceline's pocketed robes. The liquid was a vibrant pink, like a harmless little love potion from Fred and George's joke shop. Funny given what it could do. Funny given what it would've done to Marcus. "You were going to torture him, weren't you? With this?"
"What?" Oliver's face turned into red from rage as he gripped tightly onto Marcus' hand over protectively.
Terence met with Marcus' eyes. The part-troll stared over at him with a look of betrayal and bewilderment.
"Athena wants to know why he sent that letter and what exactly did it say," Penelope said calmly. "Which you know about because that's why Athena sent you. Percy hadn't had a fit after that letter after all. Marcus ruined her game. Athena's about to have kittens, isn't she, Terence? Mind you, that's the only thing that virtuous Athena would ever give birth to. The universe thinks that she's such a saint. She's worse than Hades if you anger her enough and the only reason she doesn't have any children is because she can't have any!"
"What..." Marcus began, his blood stewing, "the hell is going on?"
Penelope turned to face Marcus, and then laughed. "Oh, for being the bloke that somehow understood how Athena's gift of epilepsy benefits Percy, you sure are dense."
"What letter?" Oliver echoed. Terence didn't answer. "You sent Weasel a letter in the ward?"
"I sent a letter, telling him what Athena was trying to do with his... epilepsy... and why it's a bloody gift instead of a curse," Marcus said the word epilepsy almost as if it didn't exist, almost as if Percy had never had an actual fit. He flicked his eyes from Penelope to Terence, his face perfectly still.
Oliver looked surprised. "Marcus, I—"
"Who are you?" Marcus asked, his eyes locked firmly on Penelope's frame. "Because you're not Clearwater."
She then snorted again. "I'm Aphrodite," she explained. "You sent the letter to the ward last year. After which, Percy ceased to have fits and from what Athena knows, you'd explained the rules of the game to Percy... which she loathes because he was supposed to figure it out on his own! She doesn't think he's worth saving if he requires a part-troll's help to understand her little gift! But she wouldn't kill you. She'd just torture you mindlessly for tarnishing her ploy and then hand you over to Ares, whom will kill you. Personally, I don't understand why she's so pissed. You are part of the Oracle's prophecy after all. It's why Ares possessed your father and tried to beat you to submission all these years back! Ares thought that if you thought that you were incredible dumb, you wouldn't try to be the hero of the day by sending that Zeus forsaken letter."
"You're the reason he's out of the ward," Oliver realised with a confounded expression. "How could you do that to me, Flint? I thought we were mates. I thought we were best mates and now, I'm bloody stuck with that tosser because of you! I don't want to share a room with him! I don't want to live with him. The Burrow is my house now. I got it fair and square. I fought with the Order. I nearly lost me life for them. I—"
"Shut up with your pity party, Wood. I wasn't going to let the Weasel be tortured to death just because you got issues with sharing your chocolate buttons," Marcus snapped back; hardness forming in his grey eyes.
Oliver's eyes darkened. "He doesn't even want his own family!"
"You're basing this off the fact that he ran away when he was ten?" Marcus huffed, snorting. "When I was ten, I was convinced I was bent until I had me first kiss with a bloke and realised I'd rather kiss a Dementor!"
That definitely caught Terence's ears. "Really? Who'd you snog?"
"Someone that is actually bent. It's—" Marcus was cut off.
Suddenly, a triage of doves erupted out of nowhere and Oliver jolted up, nearly dropping baby Avis from his arms but fortunately, he steadied himself easily. Terence's heart had done a flip but he remained seated.
"What did you write to him?" Aphrodite asked, raising an eyebrow. "What was the key in the puzzle? I want to know if I should I be fighting against your little friend or stand with him! Ares has gone too far and I cannot side with him anymore. If he continues with this, and he succeeds, Olympus will be in ruins and I cannot let that happen. Athena's rounding up armies against Percy. You've made a very powerful enemy here. If it wasn't for me, you'd have been tortured within an inch of your life thanks to sweet little Terence here."
Terence tried to defend himself. "I-I didn't have a choice! She threatened me!"
"My family will not be jeopardised because of your Gryffindor hero complex, Marcus," Penelope snapped.
"I'm not in bloody Gryffindor," Marcus mumbled in annoyance. "And I don't have a ruddy hero complex just because I don't want someone to be tortured to fucking death."
The anger melted from his face. "There's just one thing I don't understand."
"There's more than one thing you don't understand, Marcus," Aphrodite replied, rolling her eyes. It was odd for Terence to hear Penelope use words like this and be so acerbic towards anyone. He knew that it wasn't really Penelope but it didn't change his feelings towards the situation.
"You've been... with me for a year," Marcus expressed. "All of that was just... Aphrodite masquerading as Penelope Clearwater, attempting to weed out information from me?"
"I wish I could weed out information from you!" Aphrodite snapped coldly. "You're harder to get into the Restricted Section in Hogwarts! You don't say anything about your life to anyone!"
Marcus' face crumpled in pain. "It was... all a lie?"
"Yes, get it through your thick head. Women do not normally decide to get married after two weeks of dating! The actual Penelope Clearwater would probably rather die than date you; much less get married to you! The only reason I did was because I'm the Goddess of beauty, love and fertility and I thought that this would be an assured way of weeding out information! But it's not. You are so bloody dense that I find it hilarious that we're sat here, wondering what Athena's been thinking when she'd given Ares' vessel epilepsy and here you are, with the answer! You're just so bloody stupid that I—" Aphrodite spat out viciously.
"If I'm denser than lead and I know the answer, then what does that make you?" Marcus snapped coldly.
Aphrodite smirked and then said, "Marcus, why do you have to be so difficult?"
Marcus stared vacantly at her and Terence felt that solid feeling in his stomach worsen. "You made me fall in love with a lie," he spat out coldly. "I'd rather have taken the physical torture."
"You say that now, but wait until you're actually physically tortured," Aphrodite snorted, running her hand through long blonde locks. "You don't know true pain, Marcus Flint. You don't know what they could make you feel just by looking at you. If Athena really did get her hands on you, she'd bend your mind until your brain explodes! Which... wouldn't take much effort now that I think of it now, would it?"
"Hey, stop it!" Oliver exclaimed, looking extremely confused yet seemed to be catching up. "Stop talking down on my mate like that!"
"Or what?" Aphrodite inquired.
Marcus closed his eyes. "Just..." he bit down his lower lip. "Just let her go! Clearwater had nothing to do with this. She doesn't deserve this—this bloody imprisonment."
"Flint," Aphrodite corrected, and then laughed deafeningly. Marcus looked like he was about to cry. "What are you going to do it? Force me out? You're just a mortal!"
Marcus' eyes darkened. "I'll tell you what I wrote. It's what you want after all... right?"
"You better be joking," Terence and Oliver said at the same time. Terence had never agreed with Oliver on anything until today, but he could tell that this would be a great mistake.
"You love her," Aphrodite realised, looking close to laughing. "You actually love her!"
Marcus opened his mouth to deny her statement but then slowly nodded his head.
"This is pathetic," Aphrodite called out. "I don't think I've seen anything that is so sad. You actually thought a woman wanted to marry you! You're no Adonis, love and you're certainly nothing that should peak any woman's interest, especially not this one! From my vessel's memories, I could tell that she's smart, successful, beautiful and very gifted. And you? You're nothing!"
Marcus shrank down in his couch. Then something seemed to burn into his chest.
He grabbed something from underneath his couch. Terence managed to recognise an arrow. Marcus stabbed Penelope in her shoulder. It must have some sort of god-like power or property, because the lights in the flat flickered on and off, an ear-piercing scream sounded out and Terence saw a glimmer of a white light before it disappeared. The lights were back on and Marcus was cradling a shaky, tormented Penelope into his arms.
"Now, you explain, Flint," Terence said, his hand on his cheek. "What the hell was that?"
"You were going to torture me," Marcus said, his voice cutting. "Why should I explain anything to you?"
Terence was silent. Marcus' lips quivered. "It's one of Artemis' arrows. I hung onto them after a run in years ago. They had a trace amount of poison on them that's apparently painful to them Gods. I figured out that it's a mild poison they use for keeping doxies out of the bloody house, barely hurts you, but to them, it's almost like the Cruciatus. I just... covered the arrow in it just in case something like this was ever to happen because I have the best bloody luck in the world and..." his voice trailed off. "Bloody hell, I'm taking her to St Mungo's."
Terence was surprised hearing this explanation from Marcus, but he felt like he shouldn't be. "Yeah, you should head over to the hospital," Terence said airily. "That's a bit of a nasty nick she has there."