Percy lay on his bed, trying not to fall asleep. Demigod dreams would not do him any good right now. Instead, he thought about Griphook. What if he didn't cooperate? Even if they forced him to him, it would be only too easy for the goblin to mutiny against them. No, somehow, they would make him cooperate willingly. Perhaps by giving him a reward of some kind? He seemed very passionate about the 'wand carriers' thing, would he ask for a wand?
Eventually, Percy's eyes began to drift shut. Suddenly, he was standing behind Harry/Percy and Hermione, both of whom were rushing to Ron, who was lying on the ground. The trio looked about teenagers now, no more than thirteen years old. They were standing outside on a cloudless night, with the full moon shining brightly overhead.
"What did he do to him?" Hermione whispered. Ron's eyes were only half-closed, his mouth hung open; he was definitely alive, they could hear him breathing, but he didn't seem to recognize them.
"I don't know..."
Suddenly, Percy felt a disembodied feeling, and his dream changed completely. He was Harry now, seeing everything Harry was seeing, feeling everything Harry/Percy felt.
Harry/Percy looked desperately around. Black and Lupin both gone... they had no one but Snape for company, still hanging, unconscious, in midair.
"We'd better get them up to the castle and tell someone," said Harry/Percy, pushing his hair out of his eyes, trying to think straight. "Come -"
But then, from beyond the range of their vision, they heard a yelping, a whining: a dog in pain...
"Sirius," Harry/Percy muttered, staring into the darkness.
He had a moment's indecision, but there was nothing they could do for Ron at the moment, and by the sound of it, Black was in trouble -
Harry/Percy set off at a run, Hermione right behind him. The yelping seemed to be coming from the ground near the edge of the lake. They pelted toward it, and Harry/Percy, running flat out, felt the cold without realizing what it must mean -
The yelping stopped abruptly. As they reached the lakeshore, they saw why - Sirius had turned back into a man. He was crouched on all fours, his hands over his head.
'Nooo," he moaned. 'Nooo... please..."
And then Harry/Percy saw them. Dementors, at least a hundred of them, gliding in a black mass around the lake toward them. He spun around, the familiar, icy cold penetrating his insides, fog starting to obscure his vision; more were appearing out of the darkness on every side; they were encircling them...
"Hermione, think of something happy!" Harry/Percy yelled, raising his wand, blinking furiously to try and clear his vision, shaking his head to rid it of the faint screaming that had started inside it -
I'm going to live with my godfather. I'm leaving the Dursleys.
He forced himself to think of Black, and only Black, and began to chant: "Expecto patronum! Expecto patronum!"
Black gave a shudder, rolled over, and lay motionless on the ground, pale as death.
He'll be all right. I'm going to go and live with him.
"Expecto patronum! Hermione, help me! Expecto patronum!"
"Expecto -" Hermione whispered, "expecto - expecto -"
But she couldn't do it. The dementors were closing in, barely ten feet from them. They formed a solid wall around Harry/Percy and Hermione, and were getting closer...
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry/Percy yelled, trying to blot the screaming from his ears. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
A thin wisp of silver escaped his wand and hovered like mist before him. At the same moment, Harry/Percy felt Hermione collapse next to him. He was alone... completely alone...
"Expecto - expecto patronum -"
Harry/Percy felt his knees hit the cold grass. Fog was clouding his eyes. With a huge effort, he fought to remember - Sirius was innocent - innocent - We'll be okay - I'm going to live with him -
"Expecto patronum!" he gasped.
By the feeble light of his formless Patronus, He saw a dementor halt, very close to him. It couldn't walk through the cloud of silver mist Harry/Percy had conjured. A dead, slimy hand slid out from under the cloak. It made a gesture as though to sweep the Patronus aside.
"No - no -" Harry/Percy gasped. "He's innocent... expecto patronum -"
He could feet them watching him, hear their rattling breath like an evil wind around him. The nearest dementor seemed to be considering him. Then it raised both its rotting hands - and lowered its hood.
Where there should have been eyes, there was only thin, gray scabbed skin, stretched blankly over empty sockets. But there was a mouth... a gaping, shapeless hole, sucking the air with the sound of a death rattle.
A paralyzing terror filled Harry/Percy so that he couldn't move or speak. His Patronus flickered and died.
White fog was blinding him. He had to fight... expecto patronum ... he couldn't see... and in the distance, he heard the familiar screaming... expecto patronum... he groped in the mist for Sirius, and found his arm... they weren't going to take him...
But a pair of strong, clammy hands suddenly attached themselves around Harry/Percy's neck. They were forcing his face upward... He could feel its breath... It was going to get rid of him first... He could feel its putrid breath... His mother was screaming in his ears... She was going to be the last thing he ever heard -
"Percy! Wake up!"
Percy snapped awake. He wasn't Harry, he was Percy Jackson. Wow Harry he thought to himself. You fought a giant snake, a thousand dementors, and Voldemort in three years only.
"Are you okay?" asked Annabeth concernedly. He sat up to see Nico, Harry, Ron and Hermione standing over him as well.
"I'm fine." He said.
"You were yelling in your sleep" said Ron, "He's innocent…Expecto Patronum…"
"Demigod dreams are always messed up." He said to Harry, Ron and Hermione, "most of the time their visions of things going on currently or from the past."
"I have a feeling I know what you were dreaming about." Harry muttered.
"Hey, I don't choose what I dream about!" said Percy, "If I dream about you defeating a two-faced Voldemort, kicking a snake's butt, or defending an innocent man, that's not my choice."
Harry's eyes had widened, "You saw me doing all that?!" he said. Percy shrugged.
"The Goddess Hecate is giving me these dreams." He said. "I met her in person."
"When were you going to tell us that Seaweed Brain!" said Annabeth, punching his arm lightly.
"I was going to tell you as soon as she left, but literally two seconds after that, we got captured!" he said.
Hermione's mouth was hanging wide open, "You-you saw a Goddess?!" she stuttered, "You talked to her?!"
"When you're a half-blood you talk to gods all the time." Said Annabeth, enjoying the priceless looks on Harry, Ron, and Hermione's faces.
"Look, I'm sorry I woke everyone up" said Percy, "But we better get back to bed now, before someone comes in and sees us talking at two o'clock in the morning." This being a fair point, everyone quickly rushed to their beds.
The next day, Percy saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione go speak to alone. When they came out, they hurriedly left the house and went out to garden. Percy followed eager to know what was going on.
"Gregorovitch had the Elder Wand a long time ago," Harry said, "I saw You-Know-Who trying to find him. When he tracked him down, he found that Gregorovitch didn't have it anymore: It was stolen from him by Grindelwald. How Grindelwald found out that Gregorovitch had it, I don't know but if Gregorovitch was stupid enough to spread the rumor, it can't have been that difficult."
"Who are Gregorovitch and Grindlewald? And what's the elder wand?" asked Percy.
"The elder wand is a wand that's quite literally a legend" said Ron, "It's said to be unbeatable."
"Gregorvitch is a wandmaker, he had the elder wand once." Said Hermione.
"And Grindlewald is a famous dark wizard." Said Harry, "He used the Elder Wand to become powerful. And at the height of his power, when Dumbledore knew he was the only one who could stop him, he dueled Grindelwald and beat him, and he took the Elder Wand."
"Dumbledore had the Elder Wand?" said Ron. "But then, where is it now?"
"At Hogwarts, buried with Dumbledore." said Harry, Percy noticed he was clutching his scar and talking the way someone did right before they were about to pass out..
"But then, let's go!" said Ron urgently. "Guys, let's go and get it before he does!"
"It's too late for that," said Harry. He clutched his head harder. "He knows where it is. He's there now."
"Harry!" Ron said furiously. "How long have you known this?! Why have we been wasting time? Why did you talk to Griphook first? We could have gone…
"We can still go!" said Percy, "we'll apperate and shadow travel there today!"
"No," said Harry, and he sank to his knees in the grass. "Hermione's right. Dumbledore didn't want me to have it. He didn't want me to take it. He wanted me to get the Horcruxes."
"The unbeatable wand, Harry!" moaned Ron.
"I'm not supposed to... I'm supposed to get the Horcruxes..." Harry collapsed face down on the grass, clutching his scar.
"What happened to him?!" asked Percy, leaning down.
"He's gone into one of his bloody fits again! He needs to close that connection!" said Hermione.
"What fits?! What's happening to him?!" asked Percy.
"When the curse rebounded off Harry sixteen years ago," said Hermione, "He got that curse scar, and along with it, a connection to Voldemort's soul. He can sense Voldemort's emotions, sometimes see You-Know-Who himself."
"But its painful being connected to a soul that evil. Every time he has some insight into You-Know-who's mind, he collapses, and his scar hurts."
Painful being connected to an evil soul thought Percy. He wondered if Luke was in pain when he allowed the titan lord Kronos to use his body.
Harry suddenly opened his eyes and moved his hand away from his scar.
"What did you see?" asked Ron urgently, helping him to his feet.
"You-Know-Who took the elder wand from the grave." He said flatly, looking a little shaken.
After they returned to the cottage and told Nico and Annabeth what had happened, a single question seemed to be constantly running to their minds. What if they were supposed to get the elder wand before Voldemort did? What if the only way to defeat him was to get the wand he now possessed?
Harry-
"I have reached my decision." said the Griphook the next day. He had called them all to his room to discuss the matter of breaking into Gringotts. He was sitting cross-legged in a low chair, drumming its arms with his spindly fingers.
"Though the goblins of Gringotts will consider it base treachery, I have decided to help you."
"That's great!" said Harry, relief surging through him. "Griphook, thank you, we're really-"
"-in return," said the goblin firmly, "for payment."
Slightly taken aback, Harry hesitated.
"How much do you want? I've got gold."
"Not gold," said Griphook. "I have gold."
His black eyes glittered; there were no whites to his eyes.
"I want the sword. The sword of Godric Gryffindor."
Harry's spirits plummeted.
"You can't have that," he said. "I'm sorry."
"Then," said the goblin softly, "we have a problem."
"We can give you something else," said Ron eagerly. "I'll bet the Lestranges have got loads of stuff, you can take your pick once we get into the vault."
He had said the wrong thing. Griphook flushed angrily.
"I am not a thief, boy! I am not trying to procure treasures to which I have no right!"
"The sword's ours!" said Nico.
"it is not," said the goblin.
"We're Gryffindors, and it was Godric Gryffindor's!"
Annabeth, Percy, and Nico all did a half-decent job at pretending to know who Godric Gryffandor was.
"And before it was Gryffindor's, whose was it?" demanded the goblin, sitting up straight.
"No one's," said Ron. "It was made for him, wasn't it?"
"No!" cried the goblin, bristling with anger as he pointed a long finger at Ron. "Wizarding arrogance again! That sword was Ragnuk the First's, taken from him by Godric Gryffindor! It is a masterpiece of goblinwork! It belongs with the goblins! The sword is the price of my hire, take it or leave it!"
Griphook glared at them. Harry glanced at the other, and then said, "We need to discuss this, Griphook, if that's all right. Could you give us a few minutes?"
The goblin nodded, looking sour.
Downstairs in the empty sitting room, Harry walked to the fireplace, brow furrowed, trying to think what to do. Behind him, Ron said, "He's having a laugh. We can't let him have that sword."
"Why not?' asked Percy, "We have other swords, and you never fight with it!"
"That sword has Basalisk venom in it," said Hermione, "It's one of the only substances that can destroy horcruxes.
"It is true?" Harry asked Hermione. "Was the sword stolen by Gryffindor?"
"I don't know," she said hopelessly. "Wizarding history often skates over what the wizards have done to other magical races, but there's no account that I know of that says Gryffindor stole the sword."
"Okay, who is this 'Godric Gryffandor'?" asked Annabeth.
"A very old and famous wizard, but the only thing important thing about him now is the sword belonged to him." Said Harry. Or at least, we thought it belonged to him he added inwardly.
"It'll be one of those goblin stories," said Ron, "about how the wizards are always trying to get one over on them. I suppose we should think ourselves lucky he hasn't asked for one of our wands."
"Goblins have got good reason to dislike wizards, Ron." said Hermione. "They've been treated brutally in the past."
"Goblins aren't exactly fluffy little bunnies, though, are they?" said Ron. "They've killed plenty of us. They've fought dirty too."
"But arguing with Griphook about whose race is most underhanded and violent isn't going to make him more likely to help us, is it?" said Nico.
"Okay," said Ron, and Harry turned back to face him, "how's this? We tell Griphook we need the sword until we get inside the ¨C and then he can have it. There's a fake in these, isn't there? We switch them, and give him the fake."
"Ron, he'd know the difference better than we would!" said Hermione. "He's the only one who realized there had been a swap!"
"Yeah, but we could scaper before he realizes-"
He quailed beneath the look Hermione was giving him.
"That," she said quietly, "is despicable. Ask for his help, and then double-cross him? And you wonder why goblins don't like wizards, Ron?"
Ron's ears had turned red.
"All right, all right! It was the only thing I could think of! What's your solution, then?"
"We need to offer him something else, something just as valuable."
"Brilliant, I'll go and get one of our ancient goblin-made swords and you can gift wrap it."
Silence fell between them again. Harry was sure that the goblin would accept nothing but the sword, even if they had something as valuable to offer him. Yet the sword was their one, indispensable weapon against the Horcruxes.
He closed his eyes for a moment or two and listened to the rush of the sea. The idea that Gryffindor might have stolen the sword was unpleasant to him: He had always been proud to be a Gryffindor; Gryffindor had been the champion of Muggle-borns, the wizard who had clashed with the pureblood-loving Slytherin...
"Maybe he's lying," Harry said, opening his eyes again. "Griphook. Maybe Gryffindor didn't take the sword. How do we know the goblin version of history's right?"
"Does it make a difference?" asked Annabeth, "Right now we just need to find a way to keep the sword."
"Changes how I feel about it," said Harry. He took a deep breath. "We'll tell him he can have the sword after he's helped us get into that vault, but we'll be careful to avoid telling him exactly when he can have it."
A grin spread slowly across Ron's face. Hermione, however, looked alarmed.
"Harry, we can't!"
"That's just plain dirty!" said Annabeth.
"He can have it," Harry went on, "after we've used it on all of the Horcruxes. I'll make sure he gets it then. I'll keep my word."
"But that could be years!" said Hermione.
"I know that, but he needn't. I won't be lying... really. What other choice do we have?"
There was shame in Harry's eyes, but he tried not to let it show.
"I don't like it," said Hermione.
"Nor do I, much," Harry admitted.
"Well, I think it's genius," said Ron, standing up again. "Let's go and tell him."
Back in the smallest bedroom, Harry made the offer, careful to phrase it so as not to give any definite time for the handover of the sword. Hermione frowned at the floor while he was speaking; he felt irritated at her, afraid that she might give the game away. However, Griphook had eyes for nobody but Harry.
"I have your word, Harry Potter, that you will give me the sword of Gryffindor if I help you?"
"Yes," said Harry.
"Then shake," said the goblin, holding out his hand.
Harry took it and shook. He wondered whether those black eyes saw any misgivings in his own. Then Griphook relinquished him, clapped his hands together, and said, "So. We begin!"