Written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Assignment 2, Mythology, Task 3: Write about a demon or other monster from the Underworld

Unbeta'd

Word count: 799

Warnings: incredibly slight mentions of gore


Very last minute so I'll keep this short and sweet. This is a crossover with my other true love, Percy Jackson, so definitely an AU. Hope the new series is good; it's the least we deserve after everything we've been through.

Enjoy


What have I gotten myself into this time?

When Harry had set up Dumbledore's Army, he'd of course done it for a reason. He was acutely aware that him and (unfortunately) his friends would have to fight for their survival against Voldemort and the Death Eaters, sooner rather than later. The one monster he hadn't expected to encounter though, was Umbridge herself.

Other days, he would use the term "monster" metaphorically. However, the moment her fingers morphed into talons and leather wings sprouted from her back, things had taken a turn for the literal.

Her shrieking laughter echoed through the Forbidden Forest as he ran for his life, throwing hexes over his shoulder in a feeble attempt to stop whatever it was that was chasing him.

"You can run, Potter, but your stench will always help me find you!"

One stumble was all it took. His foot caught in a raised root and, before he could regain his balance, Umbridge descended on him, her talons digging deep into his shoulders as she raised him in the sky.

Harry cried out in agony as blood stained his robes but he could barely hear his own voice through the violent flapping of the monster's wings. "Don't worry, little demigod, this pain is nothing compared to what I'll do to you next!"

Umbridge grinned, her mouth full of sharp yellow fangs, and Harry didn't think he'd ever been this afraid before in his life. He'd faced Basilisks and giant spiders and Dementors and cruel, evil men; but there had always been a clear distinction between the two. A human that turns into a monster? That was beyond his darkest nightmares.

"Harry, hang on!" He heard someone yell from somewhere on the ground before Umbridge yelped in pain, a bright red curse grazing her left wing.

"You!" She screamed, her eyes glowing with the power of her rage. Her talons loosened and Harry went flying, his back slamming against the ground with a dull thud. Blinded from pain, he could only hear the sounds of the fight next to him.

He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe, it hurt too much. His right leg was definitely broken and he bet a few of his ribs were too. His shoulders were still bleeding and, judging from the warm liquid on the back of his neck, his head was too.

Things had started getting fuzzy, from the pain or the blood-loss he couldn't be sure. He struggled with his conscious to stay awake, to help whoever it was in this fight, but his body couldn't take it. All he could do was lie there as the darkness engulfed him, one thought running through his head over and over again.

Is this how I die? Is this how Voldemort wins?


The light was harsh and unforgiving on Harry's face, making him squint as he slowly swam back to consciousness.

"Harry? Harry, can you hear me?"

Harry groaned, wishing his arms didn't feel like led so he could use them to strangle his best friend. "Too loud," he mustered through a groan of pain.

"Oh. Sorry."

The more his mind cleared, the more his surroundings came into focus. He was in the Hospital Wing, and that was definitely Hermione by the foot of his bed. "Hi," he mumbled, slightly apologetic for his previous tone.

"Hi," Hermione said as she smiled at him, though worry was still evident on her face. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I was beat around like a Bludger in a Quidditch Match." He tried to shuffle to a sitting position but his body was not cooperating yet so Hermione helped prop him up with a few extra pillows. "What happened?"

"Well…" Hermione's hesitation made the hair on his arms raise. She was always blunt, almost cheerful to scold him whenever he landed himself in a hospital bed. What had happened that put her so on edge? "What do you remember, Harry?"

"Well, not much, to be honest. We took Umbridge to the centaurs but from then… I had this crazy fever dream that she turned into a bat monster lady but-"

"A Fury," Hermione interrupted him, her face solemn and her voice serious. "Horrible monsters of the Underworld. They can smell us from miles away."

Your stench will always help me find you.

"What are you talking about, 'Mione? Is this some sort of prank?" Harry chuckled, trying to alleviate the tension, but Hermione's expression caused a pit of dread in his stomach.

"Harry," she paused to take a breath, steadying herself for something, "this is not a prank. You thought you were a wizard – everyone thought so too – but you're not. You're a demigod, Harry."

"I'm a what?"