Nico

Percy Jackson was dead.

His eyes stared blankly up at the sky, empty as the windows of a deserted house. His mouth hung slightly open, his last, defiant yell hovered in the air, "No!"

Percy Jackson was dead.

As he glared up at his friend's killer, Nico felt his gaze burning with hate. His fingers dug into the earth and he felt the ground tremble in response to his fury, bones skittering to the surface, as scattered as his mind. Only one thought mattered: Percy Jackson was dead. And Tom Riddle – Lord Voldemort, himself – had killed him.

"What have you done?" The Dark Lord's voice shook with barely controlled rage.

"What-" the question died on his lips, as Nico realised what must have happened. Percy had jumped in front of him. He'd saved his life, one last time.

It's my fault. If I hadn't come…

"Nagini," Voldemort hissed, "Kill him slowly. He shall suffer for causing the death of my heir."

A snake slithered out from the shadows. Nico could only stare limply as it encircled him. He should draw his sword but all he could think about was Annabeth's face when he told her. Surely, it would be better to die.

"Nico!" Harry's voice, but it sounded so far away.

Percy Jackson was dead, and it was his fault. Why shouldn't Nico join him?

Will, I'm sorry…

Harry

"Nico!" Why didn't he move? Why was he just sitting there, his sword untouched at his side?

Looking at Percy's lifeless form, Harry felt as though his chest would explode with pain. Pain, and anger, and sorrow, and fear… Nico would be next and then it would his turn. He would die in this graveyard, at Voldemort's feet.

No.

The snake had wrapped itself around Nico, now. He didn't struggle, even as the colour drained from his skin. His eyes glittered like broken glass as he stared at his friend's body. He could give up, but Harry wouldn't; He would fight for Percy, even if there was no hope. He would die on his feet, like his father, and he would die defending himself, though no defence was possible.

He stumbled to his feet, "Voldemort!" he ignored the tremor in his voice, "Leave him. It's me you want!"

Voldemort turned his pitiless red eyes on him and in that moment, Harry knew he was going to die, those eyes were telling him so… But he didn't back down. He gripped his wand tightly, thrust it out in front of him, and stepped down from the overgrown grave where he'd been cowering while Percy was killed.

"You have been taught how to duel, Potter?" Voldemort said softly, and Harry remembered the duelling club he'd attended briefly in his second year. He doubted Lockhart's teaching would help him against the Dark Lord, "First, we bow," he bent a little but his glinting, red eyes never left Harry's face, "Come now, Potter, the niceties must be observed…"

Harry didn't move. He wouldn't give Voldemort the satisfaction of playing with him before he died.

"I said, bow," Voldemort raised his wand and Harry felt his spine curve as though a huge, invisible hand was bending him ruthlessly forwards. The Death Eaters cackled with glee.

"And, now, we duel-"

Harry had barely lifted his wand when Voldemort cried, "Crucio!"

The pain was beyond anything Harry had imagined. It was so intense, so all-consuming, he forgot where he was. White-hot knives pierced his skin, tearing through what little courage he had summoned and setting loose an animalistic scream from deep inside. He remembered Percy's tales of Furies with fiery whips and chains of lava and he thought, I'm in hell…

And then it stopped. Harry rolled over and scrambled to his feet, staggering away from Voldemort, away from the Death Eaters and Nico, still suffocating in the snake's grasp, away from Percy's unbearably still corpse. He ducked behind the marble headstone of Voldemort's father and crouched there, his breath coming fast and ragged.

"This isn't a game, Harry Potter," Voldemort's cold voice was coming nearer, "Come out, come out… Perhaps I will make your death quick."

Harry met Nico's eye. He was struggling now, fingers clawing desperately at the snake closing ever tighter around his neck. Purple light rippled across the son of Hades' face and bones sprang to the surface where his hands touched the ground. If Harry could distract the Death Eaters long enough, perhaps Nico could free himself. It would be his last act. A sacrifice that made dying at the hands of his greatest enemy almost worthwhile.

He would die like a hero, in one of Percy's stories.

Harry stepped out from behind the grave to find Voldemort's wand pointing at him, but this time he was ready. As Voldemort cried, "Avada Kedavra!", Harry yelled with all his might, "Expelliarmus!"

Nothing could've prepared Harry for what happened next; a jet of green light issued from Voldemort's wand just as a jet of red blasted from Harry's – they met in mid-air – and suddenly, Harry couldn't explain how, his wand was vibrating as though an electric charge were surging through it. A narrow beam of light – neither red nor green, but bright, deep gold – connected the wands and he knew he couldn't let go, even if he wanted to. The Death Eaters weren't laughing now, they were calling out, asking Voldemort for instructions, but none came – Voldemort seemed just as focused as Harry on maintaining the connection, his red eyes wide with astonishment.

Harry's feet lifted into the air. Somehow, he and Voldemort were flying, gliding away from his father's tomb to a dark patch of grass free of graves. The connection between them splintered, thousands of threads of golden light arcing high over their heads, creating a cage-like dome. Beyond that, the Death Eaters' cries were strangely muffled as they reformed the circle around them, some of them drawing wands.

"Do nothing!" Voldemort shrieked, clutching his wand in both hands now.

Then the light-spun web around them began to sing, a beautiful and unearthly sound Harry recognised, though he'd only heard it once before in his life… Phoenix song. And then the beam between him and Voldemort changed so it was as though large beads of light were sliding down the connection, moving steadily toward him. His wand shuddered, and he knew it wouldn't survive contact with the beads.

I can't do this, he thought as his wand grew so hot, he feared it would burst into flame. He, Harry, was fourteen and Voldemort was like a god…

A god.

"Hecate!" Harry's voice was drowned out by the song, but he felt sure it didn't matter, "I believe in you! Help me, please!"

Nothing happened. His hands were slick with sweat, now, and he couldn't hold on much longer. Voldemort was laughing at him and he felt his sudden faith flicker – what was he thinking? – but he had to try.

"Come on! Please!"

The closer the bead moved, the harder his wand vibrated. Any minute now, it would reach his wand, the connection would break, and Harry would die. He needed a miracle.

Apparently, whichever god granted such feats was happy to oblige.

A woman's voice spoke inside his head and Harry thought he detected a glimmer of admiration in her tone, "Harry Potter, the boy who lived… Only you can defeat him. You mustn't break the connection until you're ready. You'll know when it's time. Help will arrive soon. Tonight, you are my champion – good luck, wizard."

The presence vanished as quickly as it came, but he knew it was the goddess who had spoken. Only you can defeat him. Harry concentrated every last particle of his mind on moving the beads, though he didn't know what it possibly achieve, he knew it was what Hecate intended him to do… and now it was Voldemort's wand which was vibrating extra hard… Voldemort who was looking astonished and even fearful…

One bead quivered, inches from the tip of Voldemort's wand, and Harry focused everything he had on forcing that one bead along the golden thread. Slowly, slowly, it began to move… closer, closer… it teetered a little…

And it connected.

Nico

He was dying; suffocating in the snake's grasp. Hold on, Nico, his father's voice whispered inside his head, but he was losing his grip on the living world. The ground seemed to rock beneath him like a boat, and he knew he was crossing the River Styx on Charon's ferry. The memory of Will's face swam through his mind, I'm so sorry…

Then he felt it; a familiar soul, a welcome light in the darkness. It drew him back to the land of the living, to the agonising pain of being flattened to death. His vision flickered between the graveyard and the gates of his father's realm. He could see Percy, lying spread-eagle on the ground.

His fingers twitched.

I'm imagining it… but, no – he could feel it, Percy's presence growing stronger, his soul returning to his body. It wasn't possible, but it was happening.

Percy was alive. He'd been dead and now he was alive.

Unforgivable curses don't work on demigods.

His eyes flew open. His chest shuddered as he gasped for air. A moment ago, he'd been cold and pale but now the colour flooded back to his skin, like someone was increasing the saturation. "Percy!" Nico tried to say, but his crushed lungs wouldn't allow it.

The snake's tongue flickered as it tightened its grip and Nico gagged. He clawed desperately at his neck, trying to free himself, but his fingers found no purchase on it's scales. Riptide lay in the grass a few feet in front of him, but he knew he couldn't reach it – his arms were pinned to his side. Again, he saw the Underworld and this time, he could hear Cerberus baying in the distance.

I'm coming, boy, he thought, I don't like it but I'm coming.

Percy groaned, rolling over. His eyes widened as he saw him, suffocating, "Nico?"

He couldn't answer, couldn't speak, couldn't breathe. He couldn't do anything but die.

Harry

He couldn't hold on much longer. His arm was shaking painfully now but instinct kept him clutching onto his wand, even as he watched dense, grey smoke pour from the tip of Voldemort's.

The Dark Lord's red eyes widened in shock as his wand screeched in pain. The smoke was forming a shape, a great, greyish head… then a chest and arms… the torso of the man Harry had once seen in his dreams. He emerged as though squeezing out of a very narrow tunnel, shook himself off and, leaning on his walking stick and surveying Harry and Voldemort, the connected wands and golden web with mild surprise, said, "He was a real wizard, then? Killed me, he did… You fight him, boy…"

But another head was already emerging from the wand; the shadowy figure of Bertha Jorkins. Her voice echoing, she cried, "Hold on, Harry! Don't let go now!"

Something was wrong. Something was missing.

Voldemort's victims paced agitated around the inner walls of the web as another head began to grow from the tip of his wand, and this time Harry knew who it would be… knew, because the woman appearing was the one, he'd thought of more than any other tonight…

"My son," the voice of Lily Potter whispered, and her smile lit up some dim and dusty memory within Harry's mind – a much happier time, when both his parents were alive, "My beautiful boy. Your father's coming, hold on…"

So Harry did hold on, and he came… The smoky, shadowy figure of James Potter emerged from Voldemort's wand. When he spoke, Harry recognized his crooked grin from the mirror, "When the connection is broken, we will only linger for moments, but we will give you time… You must find your friends and return to the Cup, it will take you back to Hogwarts."

His friends. And then, Harry realised what was missing – or rather, who.

Voldemort's eyes widened in understanding, "Where is he?" he shrieked, his face livid with fear, "Where's Perseus?"

"I'm right here."

It was impossible. Percy was dead, but there he was; sword in hand, the blade slick with blood. His expression blazed with fury, despite the Death Eaters' wands aimed at him. One arm was looped around Nico's shoulders, who was clutching his throat. There was no sign of the snake.

"Where's Nagini?" Voldemort hissed.

"She's alive," Percy said, "I injured her, but she escaped. She… she spoke to me."

He's a parseltongue.

But Harry didn't have time to dwell on the issue of Percy's heritage because, just then, his father whispered, "Now!"

He pulled the wand upwards with an almighty wrench and, sprinting down the hill toward his friends, screamed, "RUN!"

Guys, can you believe we're on 25 chapters? I've been thinking and I think this story will end around chapter 30 - but don't worry, I'm thinking about the sequel already! This chapter was SO hard to write, since so much is going on, but I hope you like it!

11 reviews on chapter 23/24 in total! I honestly love all this feedback so much, it really makes me want to keep writing!

unicorn horn powder - damn, you're smart! Hope you enjoyed :D

aRTsyisAwesome - glad you're excited! I'm so happy you're enjoying the story! :)

Okurdek - I'm so glad you're happy with how things worked out, keep reading! I always love reading your feedback!

FrozenFlames12 - I'm glad you're enjoying the story! Keep reading and letting me know what you think!

poppitycorn29 - Glad you like the story! Sorry for any anxiety caused ;)

Cooldude98 - I'm so happy you like the story, your review really made me smile! Happy binge-reading :D

vapourtrailreads - some Voldy ass will be kicked next chapter, so keep reading! ;)

Anonymous - it makes me so happy when I read reviews like your's! Keep reading and letting me know what you think! :)

xros - I'm thinking Frank will show up in the sequel, so keep reading... And thanks for your review!

Guest - I love Sabrina too! I binge-watched it in 2 days! Hope you're enjoying the story! :D

EvilPieceOfSht - As always, I loved reading your review! Your excitement is infectious and really inspires me to keep writing. Yup, Voldemort has a grandson although Sally isn't Bellatrix's daughter. Keep letting me know what you think! :D

As always, thanks for reading and if you haven't already, follow/favourite the story! Let me know what you think by leaving a review!

Lileaf, xoxo

PS - if you have any suggestions for the sequel, PM me! I have a basic plot idea but I'm still working on the details and I'd love to work in some your ideas :D