Some serious Harry&Percy feels coming up in the next couple of chapters!
It was supposed to be a fortunate day for the demigods.
Jason arrived at Camp Half-Blood with a small entourage of Romans. Reyna, Octavian, Hazel, Gwen, Dakota, and Mako were dressed smartly, eying the expanse of Half-Blood Hill carefully. They carried with them a letter of invite for Harry to enter Camp Jupiter, along with Jason's supplies since he planned to leave directly to search for Jupiter, Juno, and the Master Bolt.
Piper volunteered for the quest even before Jason asked. She was sure that her dad was truly captured by the same giant who'd abducted the king and the queen. Leo jumped in after her, promising a terrifying badass mode of travel.
Percy was out of sight for all of this.
"Ready?" Grover asked, about to leap out of his body.
"Totally," Percy said, his voice cracking.
They stood facing each other in a clearing surrounded by the Council of Cloven Elders. It was a big deal when the Lord of the Wild elected to dissolve his empathy link. The elders were present to ensure the ritual was done well, especially since Grover had made the link during a time of serious stress.
Percy closed his eyes and let the memories flash through his mind.
Waking up in a new apartment with Grover's voice loud and clear in his head.
He wasn't a half-blood hero anymore.
Grover's pain and panic bleeding through the link every time Polyphemus was close to figuring out his identity.
He was a burgeoning immortal.
Percy reassuring his best friend that they were coming for him, trying to pour his surety and comfort into the link.
Time to accept his fate and make sure nobody was hurt on the way.
Grover's palms left Percy's temples and the both of them breathed out at once. Percy embraced him tightly.
"I miss you already," Percy whispered and Grover laughed, still shaking.
Mercury, as the Romans called him, brought them to Mount Olympus. They chartered a bus from NYC all the way to Long Island.
Annabeth stood atop Half-Blood Hill with Thalia, Clarisse, and Bianca.
"Where's Nico?" Thalia asked.
"With Harry," Bianca and Annabeth replied at once.
"Saturday," Annabeth reminded them. "Therapy day."
"We all need therapy," Clarisse muttered as a city bus pulled up on the highway, at the foot of their hill.
Peleus raised his golden head, snout quivering. Trails of smoke hissed out of his nostrils. Annabeth patted his scales and said, "They're our allies. They're not here to take the fleece."
"No, just the pithos," Thalia grunted.
"Octavian wants to just see it," Bianca muttered.
"You don't actually believe that."
"Thals," Annabeth frowned. "If we keep second-guessing them, they'll do the same to us."
Thalia wiped away her scowl as Romans pooled out of the bus. "You know they're already doing that."
Annabeth exhaled, focusing on Reyna and Jason's tiny figures in the distance. A group of twelve demigods (slash legacies) marched up the hill in their standard formation. Their purple and gold togas fluttered in the breeze.
"We're just gonna invite them in, show them around camp, and then send Jason off with Piper and Leo," Annabeth said firmly.
"What if they stay the night?"
"We'll deal with that later."
Everyone was quietly nervous but Annabeth was surprised how well things turned out.
Percy wasn't here because his empathy link severance would have drained him and Grover. He promised to arrive at camp bright and early tomorrow to occupy the Romans with his best smile.
For now, Thalia and Clarisse showed them around camp while Annabeth and Bianca answered all their questions.
Reyna handed over an envelope made of shimmering golden parchment. It was the letter for Harry—a non-Roman, non-Greek, non-demigod—allowing him a single admittance to Camp Jupiter.
"I'll deliver this personally," Annabeth promised.
"Where do you store Pandora's jar?" Octavian asked briskly.
Annabeth nodded toward the rock hills where the Oracle's cave entrance was visible. "It's hidden up there. Only a few people can access it. After lunch, we'll bring it out for your perusal."
"We need to check it for cracks and damage," Octavian insisted. "I've had visions of the jar breaking—"
"Yes, our Oracle has had them too," Thalia cut across him.
Octavian went pink.
Reyna cleared her throat. "I admire the cabins. You have one for every god?"
Annabeth nodded furiously, "That's the plan."
She spotted Piper and Leo across the green and waved them over. They had good timing. A light distraction of a possibly lethal quest ought to clear the air.
Jason stuck his hand out. "Praetor Jason Grace of New Rome, son of Jupiter. I'll be leading this quest."
Leo shook his arm, eyes wide. "Er, Leo! Valdez! Of Texas! But I'm in Camp Half-Blood now. So I guess I'm of this camp. Can you be of two places? I guess we're all technically of two people, so are places like that too? Except for us, it's one person and one god. Is it the same for all demigods, you think? What if we have different combinations? Like two gods got bored, made a kid but didn't give them any immortality? Or a god and two people, they could make a demigod, 'cause apparently, gods don't give us any DNA… and that's why none of us look like them!"
The Romans had no response.
Piper shook a stunned Jason's hand. "Piper McLean. I'm Leo's wrangler."
"Good. I, uh, mean—" Jason stammered. "It's great to meet you! Both of you."
Leo grinned. "No one's ever called me great."
"I called you a great menace," Piper told him.
"Don't think that counts."
Annabeth was doubly glad when her mirror rang out. She needed a distraction from their distraction.
Usually, Remus or Tonks escorted Harry to his weekly therapy sessions with Healer Mantis. But it was the full moon today and Tonks was visiting her parents for the weekend.
So Harry dragged Nico to the clinic.
"I'm supposed to be escorting you!" Nico complained. He was still stumbling from Harry's apparation.
"Sally just wants someone to be with me when I come here," Harry said, exasperated. "She forgets I'm a full-fledged adult."
"You were complaining about the lack of ketchup in your sandwich yesterday," Nico deadpanned.
"Adults complain!"
"Not as much as you."
"Pfft!" Harry shook his head. "Say, you wanna join me?"
Nico eyed him sharply. "No."
"Sure?"
Nico looked away. Harry held back his frustration.
Ever since Nico admitted he was 'cursed' the kid had been shifty with his agenda. Percy couldn't get him to open up. Bianca wouldn't tell them what was going on. And with Rachel still out of commission, Nico was stubbornly close-mouthed about his secret plans.
Harry was sure he was planning a solo quest. He had no idea how to relay this to Percy without the bloke blowing a gasket.
A child, smaller than Nico, bounded up to them.
"You're Harry Potter!" she cried, delighted.
"No," Harry said. "He is."
He jerked a thumb at a flabbergasted Nico.
The girl frowned. "No. He has brown eyes. Yours are green!"
"Mine are actually beryl-shaded," Harry said, side-stepping her. "This guy's the celebrity."
The little girl couldn't have been older than eight. Her blonde pigtails bounced as she stomped a foot, tightened her fists and announced. "No! That's the shadow boy."
Nico stared wide-eyed. "Huh?"
"You know him?" Harry asked, surprised.
"Duh! He saved all those students from the train last year! When the giant spiders attacked. Harry Potter didn't do that! It was the shadow boy with the black sword."
Nico blushed. "Oh, yeah."
The girl grinned. "I guess that does make him a celebrity…"
Harry smiled along. "Absolutely. I bet he'll give you an autograph."
Nico glared at him. "Not happening."
Harry grinned and wandered up to Healer Mantis's room.
It was nice for Nico to get a little recognition about that. People usually focused on his quests and powers, and his involvement in the Battle of Manhattan. Harry doubted any witch or wizard actually recognised him as the strange little boy who'd saved nearly a dozen students, bitten by Acromantulae, by shadow-travelling them out of the runaway train.
The session with Mantis went smoothly enough. The healer was trying to get Harry to be more open about his positive, sincere side. Harry was positively sincere that such a side did not exist in him. Mantis promised they'd revisit the nonexistent side.
He walked back to the reception to find Nico surrounded by a handful of tiny children, listening to him awkwardly describe his heroic escapades of defeating gigantic, venomous spiders.
Harry grinned. He would have gotten a photo of that if his mirror hadn't rang right then.
Percy was excused from the day's council meetings (thank the gods). He flooed to Frost. Gretna Green was even colder than New York though the snow had not begun yet.
"Harry!" Percy called, stretching his arms over his head. "Do we have leftovers?"
No one answered.
Percy was trying to recall if Harry mentioned when he and Nico would be back. That's when one of the baubles on the mantle beeped and whirred.
It was a Sneakoscope. It lit up, sharp white dots blinking in alarm as it spun on its point. Percy brought out his sword and dagger.
The house was quiet, but even as Percy strained his ears, he heard quiet shuffling noises in the kitchen. He sprinted to the door and raised his sword at…
The effing Spirit of Delphi was seated at the kitchen island. Her spot by the window made it very hard to ignore her, even if Harry could get past her glowing green eyes set in Rachel's face.
Worst still, was Pandora's pithos sitting on the kitchen platform beside the kettle.
"Nope," Percy said, backing away. "It's my nap time. When I wake up, that pithos better be back at camp!"
The spirit raised Rachel's head. "Depends on how long you nap."
"WHAT—"
"Do you have a pen?" she asked, unphased. Then she added, "One that has ink, preferably."
"Why is it here?" Percy asked furiously. "You can't just take the jar out and go sightseeing! The Romans are at camp right now! They'll be wanting to see it—"
"Does the pencil on the refrigerator work?"
"I'm not joking!"
"It's a pencil magnet," the spirit mused. "So I didn't think it would work."
Think? The spirit of Delphi needed to think?
Rachel's body moved fluidly. Life was back without Rachel. The spirit had gotten used to moving her limbs and her head. She turned the torso towards the fridge and lifted a pliable arm to pluck the pencil magnet from the metal door.
She scribbled something down on the notepad and tore the page out. She smiled.
"I've never written before," the spirit said. Then she giggled.
Goosebumps erupted along Percy's arms.
"Is it Apollo?" Percy asked, stepping closer to the jar. "Or the Fates? Who's making you do this?"
Rachel's long, curly hair tumbled over her shoulders. The longest ends reached below her elbows. She rarely wore her hair like that and it helped Percy separate his friend from this spirit-possessed body.
She folded the written note and stuffed it into her pocket. "Nico di Angelo asked me for Pandora. I could not give him an answer then. But that doesn't mean I can't research."
The cold prickle of the fear worked its way up his spine. The spirit of Delphi was planning something. Separate from Apollo, Rachel, and the Fates, she was following her own path?
"Why did you take the jar from its place?" Percy asked. He was inching his way to the pithos, ready to snatch it, but the spirit took two large steps. She leaped right in front of him, her hand slamming down on the jar's handle.
"I'm speeding things up," she said and plucked it from the platform. She walked around him, heading right for the hearth.
"Wait!" Percy gasped. He reached for Riptide, but it's not like he could brandish a sword at the spirit of Delphi.
"Lady Hestia," the spirit called out and flames burst alive in the hearth. They were green, the usual floo shade and that's when it occurred to Percy that the spirit was being aided by a goddess.
Was Hestia making her do this or helping her?
Rachel's body smiled at him just as she disappeared in a spurt of flame. The fire died immediately and Percy stared at the empty hearth before diving for his mirror.
Annabeth reached for her mirror just as Percy's harried, bug-eyed face appeared shrieking, "ANNABETH CHASE!"
She jumped. "What?! Where are you? What's happe—"
He cut across her, "Spirit's gone AWOL with Rachel's body and the pithos! I got no clue where but for some bloody reason, Hestia's helping her!"
Annabeth stared in horror. One moment, she was alone, and in the next, a dozen others leaped in. Percy's face fell when he saw the Romans had heard every word.
"You mean the Spirit of Delphi?!" Octavian spluttered.
"What d'you mean gone AWOL?" Clarisse shouted.
"She took a body?" Reyna whispered.
"And the pithos?" someone else crowed.
"Jackson said she took the jar?"
"What jar?"
"My peanut butter jar. What jar do you think?!"
Percy groaned, spinning back into the kitchen. Annabeth held the mirror away from people shouting all around her. Thalia barked at the Stolls to check the Oracle's cave.
"Percy! Percy! Did you say Hestia?" Bianca yelled.
He looked up, hopeful. "Is she by the hearth?"
"No," Bianca answered. "But I'll send her a sacrifice. And Will and his gang can check with Apollo. If the Spirit's gone rogue, he can get her back!"
"Do that!" Percy agreed. His attention wasn't all there. Annabeth saw him eyeing a small notepad on the kitchen table. A pencil sat beside it.
"He's right!" Travis yelled for all to hear. "The jar's gone! She must have used Rachel's prints and code to open the pedestal cavity thingy in her cave."
The crowd of Greeks and Romans erupted again but Annabeth squinted at what Percy was doing. He'd suddenly grabbed the pencil and began scratching over the notepad. There were words revealed from the lead. Whoever had written on the paper atop it must have pressed the tip into the paper hard enough for the slip below to have impressions.
"What's that?" Annabeth asked, turning her head to read the word. "P-I-R… P-V-I?"
Percy sucked in a breath.
"I got it! I'll handle this, Beth!"
He cut the call and raced out. The mirror in her hands revealed her face and that of Thalia right beside her.
"Seaweed Brain!" Annabeth groaned.
"Did you get the words?" Thalia asked, scowling. "Was it an address or—"
"Private something," Annabeth guessed. "I didn't get the whole thing… but private…"
Annabeth paused. Dread coiled in her belly. She felt like she should know this. What sort of place was named private _?
"You are NOT ordering another quest!" Jason yelled.
"Someone has to go get the pithos!" Octavian roared.
"Hey, hey!" Clarisse snapped at them. "Percy said he got it handled."
"Then why didn't he tell us?" Octavian asked. "Why didn't he say where he was going?"
"ROMANS!" Reyna shouted. The decibel fell. She raised her voice again, "Greeks! You've invited us to your home. The issue with the missing jar is not just your problem, it's everyone's. Let us help."
Thalia was furious and impressed at the same time. Annabeth was still wracking her brains for the address when she got a funny feeling and turned back to her mirror.
"Harry Potter!" she called out, crossing her fingers.
Her face and the background of camp disappeared in the reflection and Harry popped up. He was in a busy and noisy room, his face light and airy like he'd heard a good joke.
"Chase?" he asked, worrying at her anxious expression.
"The spirit of Delphi took the pithos and disappeared," she explained. "Percy's gone after her. Some place called private something."
"Private what?"
"I didn't get the second word."
Harry's jaw dropped. "Wait, did you say she took the pithos? As in, Pandora's pithos?"
Octavian peered over her shoulder. "And who are you?"
"This is Harry Potter," Annabeth said, raising an eyebrow. "He can help."
"He's the magic guy. Can he even hold a sword?"
"A sword's not really gonna help us now, is it?" Harry snarked. He turned his head and yelled, "Nico! Get to camp. We have a situation."
"When do we not have a situation?"
A hundred gasps echoed behind Annabeth.
She spun around, unsheathing her knife and racing forwards. Her heart thudded fast and she reached Bianca's side—
… where a tall, beautiful goddess stood in the middle of the green.
Her eyes reminded Annabeth of Sally Jackson. The lines on her face were ready to crinkle into a warm smile and her arms seemed moments away from offering a wonderful hug. She smelled of freshly baked pita bread and feta cheese.
Her eyes glowed like embers in her sockets. She was the opposite of Ares when it came to fire, but just as powerful.
The demigods fell to their knees. Leo yelped from somewhere in the crowd and toppled into a bunch of kids who fell into more campers. A wave of tumbling children hit Annabeth.
The goddess smiled at the fallen demigods.
"Lady Vesta!" Octavian gasped, pulling his overturned toga off his face. Dakota had landed on his shoulders and he struggled to get back to his knees.
The goddess's form trembled. She winced and changed clothes. Her previous modest and brown robes changed to an elegant white chiton with gold inlays. Her face remained the same.
Bianca spoke up, "We need help, Lady He—"
She held out a hand in warning. "Please, child. I implore you to stay with one name."
"Of course," Bianca flushed. "Apologies, my lady. The spirit of Delphi has stolen Pandora's jar."
Vesta raised her head. Annabeth had never seen her in the form of an adult woman. When she'd been younger, Annabeth would sit beside Hestia in front of the hearth. The goddess had always resembled a child her age.
"The spirit searches for answers she could not give you before," Vesta explained. "She wished for my help."
"Answers?" Bianca whispered.
"Pandora," Annabeth realised. "My lady, where did you send the spirit and the pithos?"
Vesta's smile flickered. "An old home."
The water-travelling was second nature for Percy now. He used the spritzer from Frost's kitchen sink and ended up in Petunia Dursley's front yard, materialising from her noon sprinkler system.
Soft sunlight lit up the green lawns and the pale white and blue houses of Privet Drive. It hadn't snowed yet but the breeze was brisk this fine noon. Percy was ready to confront the spirit of Delphi and wrestle her for the jar. He was prepared to even blow off Petunia and Vernon if needed.
He was not ready to stumble upon the spirit striking up a conversation with Dudley Dursley.
In a very different world, watching Rachel and Dudley hang out would be a pretty normal thing. They're cousins. They're Muggles. They're pampered beyond belief. They'd bond over not having magic.
But in this world, one where Dudley was a spoiled bully and Rachel was… well, dead; it was hard to really picture any kind of good conversation going.
And yet, Percy stopped in place and gawked at a nervous, but curious Dudley listening to the spirit bang on about journeys and destinations.
"... and so, I said to myself," the spirit announced. "Why wait for the heroes to get the ball rolling? Why couldn't I just bring everyone together and reduce the stress of keeping all the secrets? And while that was going on, I could also get into the Hall of Prophecies in the Ministry and find any information on Pandora that I don't already have!"
Dudley nodded, wide-eyed and numb-tongued. He clutched the strap of his backpack tight.
Dude was just sixteen, the same age as Rachel and Percy. But he was 6'2" and already built like a wrestler. Rachel's body was a stick compared to him. A part of Percy was giggling at the sight of Dudley inching away from her.
The rest of him searched for the pithos.
He gulped. Pandora's jar was nowhere around the place.
The spirit finally took notice of Percy. "You took your time. Have you informed the campers?"
"Have I… what?"
"Did you tell them about me?" she asked slowly.
Percy frowned. "Of course, I did! Where's the jar?"
The spirit leaned on the side of the white picket fence, shot him a lazy smile and jerked a thumb over her shoulder. Percy and Dudley turned their heads and found the ancient clay pithos sitting innocently on the porch of No. 3, Privet Drive.
"Um…" Dudley said, speaking up for the first time. "That's bad."
"Don't worry," the spirit assured him. "It will get a whole lot worse."
Percy marched out of the yard and onto the pavement.
"Wait till Rachel finds out that you're just wreaking havoc with her body!" he snapped, reaching for the gate of his old house.
Dudley grabbed his arm.
"No, no, you can't go in there!" he gasped.
Percy was pulled to a hard stop. "What?!"
"You know!" Dudley hissed.
"Know what?"
Dudley glanced around, eyes wide in fear. Then he leaned in and whispered, "The ghost."
"The ghost," Percy repeated.
Dudley made a 'duh' face. "Well, look at it!"
He waved a hand over No. 3 and Percy turned back to it. He saw no ghost, but the obvious difference was… obvious.
Twenty houses stood side-by-side on one row of Privet Drive. They faced twenty other houses just across the street. Every single one was two-storeyed, painted pale blue with white and grey trimmings. Every single house had a pampered front yard, though the plants were shrunken thanks to winter setting in. And every single house was cosy and lived in.
No. 3 was not. Percy watched the broken windows of the foreboding house. The peeling paint revealed cracks on the wood and shutters. The gutters were filled with leaves and rot. The yard was overgrown and dead, tall branches and thorns sticking out of the hard earth with no leaves or flowers. Cobwebs stretched across the fragile porch and the door handle and knocker were rusted.
Percy only noticed this after Dudley had pointed it out.
"Most people just walk by, thinking nothing of it," Dudley explained. "The neighbours forgot about it. Everyone avoids it even though no one can reason why."
Percy exhaled. "How do you see it?"
Dudley clutched his bag nervously. "If I think about the house too much, I can't unsee it. It takes a while to forget it and pretend everything's normal."
That Percy understood. Petunia and Vernon were pillars of normalcy. Their version of it.
Pandora's jar sat on the derelict porch. The only place less homey than this house was No. 12, Grimmauld Place. And that was a building Percy would never venture into for the rest of his life.
"Ghosts are harmless," Percy finally said. "Besides, there wasn't one when I last lived here."
Dudley winced.
"I need to get the jar," Percy told him. "It's really important. Thanks, man. But you better head back inside. Or she might tell you too much."
The spirit of Delphi grinned at both boys. Dudley stepped back, hesitantly. "You should call Harry. I think the ghost has something to do with him."
Percy held onto the old gate of No. 3. Dudley kept surprising him with all this… logic.
He'd always known something truly horrible had gone down in No. 3, Privet Drive. Something which Harry knew about but never told Percy or Sally. If Percy called him now, he had a feeling Harry would keep him away and retrieve the jar himself.
"If you can't handle it," the spirit added. "Then call Harry. He always helps you out."
Percy hated that tone. She made it seem like he couldn't do anything without Harry. Like he hadn't managed hordes of demigods and meetings at camps or led an army into war.
He reached down to hold the heavy iron padlock on the gate. Soft blue light lit it up and the ring unlocked itself.
"I can't wait for Rachel to come back," Percy said, without looking at her. "At least, she contributes."
Percy marched through the dead yard. The temperature dropped.
The porch creaked badly as Percy climbed the short steps. Years ago, he used to sit here and draw terrible pictures. That was a time when he had no clue about monsters.
He reached for the jar when someone whispered, "Percy?"
The voice emerged from inside the house.
Percy stared at the dirty, rusted door. Had he imagined that?
Someone breathed out. Cold air enveloped him.
The door creaked open.
Percy stumbled back, because seriously, what in the hecking Hades—
A small boy peered out at him.
This was no ghost. The kid was opaque with pale, dull skin and stringy black hair falling over his face. He had dark circles around his eyes and he peered up at Percy with dark eyes.
"Hello?" Percy mumbled.
"Percy," the boy said. The door opened some more and Percy gulped down bile.
It was Harry. He was staring at a five-year-old Harry Potter.
Which was impossible because his Harry was sixteen and gone for his weekly therapy sessions in London.
Then how—
"You came back?" Harry whispered.
Percy's head spun. The stale, cold air of the house was tugging him inside. The kid opened the door even more and stuck his arms in the air.
It took an embarrassingly long time for Percy to understand. But Harry was patient. He was always patient with him.
Percy kneeled down and hugged him.
Instantly, he knew that was the wrong thing to do.
The boy's body was cold. His arms had rubbery skin like a corpse. He had no body warmth. He smelled like dirt wood that had rotted underwater. Percy's blood chilled at the thought of embracing a dead body.
"You won't leave me," Harry spoke, tiny hands clamped around Percy's shoulders tightly. The demigod saw images in his head. Memories.
Percy woke up to a cold house in the dark. He reached for his bottle before realising that it was empty.
His breath turned to fog. He shivered and got out of the bed and opened his door. Rubbing his eyes, Percy went straight to the kitchen for a nice glass of water.
Percy leaned against the platform and jumped. It was close to freezing. He touched the marble surface and yanked his hand back. What was going on? Even as he thought about it, he felt the temperature drop.
There was a crackling sound and he stared at his bottle which became a bit heavier. The water turned to ice, its volume increased nearly touching the cap. There was a fine layer of mist-like water over it.
Someone whispered. Percy ran to the hallway and he stared. The door to the basement was open and Harry was lying on the steps, just a few feet short from the top.
He was trying to hobble up the stairs. As he got closer, Percy backed away. His left arm was twisted badly, his ankle kept bending with every step at the wrong angle. Sobs arose. His clothes were torn and he was soaking wet. Percy heard a clanging noise and saw chains around his arms and legs. They looked rusted and were broken.
"Get help…" Harry croaked, staring at a petrified Percy. But he couldn't move. His body was rooted to the spot. He couldn't—
A shadow fell over Percy. He looked up and found a tall, bald man grimacing at him.
"Another one!" the man sighed. Then he plucked Percy by the back of his collar.
Momentum kicked back in and Percy struggled. His feet hit the stranger's stomach. The man grunted, now riled up. He reared back and bodily threw Percy down the stairs into the basement.
The last thing he heard was Harry crying out in terror.
Percy's scream was trapped in his throat. His blue light lit up the veins of his hands. The dead body of five-year-old Harry patted his back and whispered, "I'll tell you everything."
Back in London, Harry was waiting for Nico to escape from a throng of seven and eight-year-old fans when he felt it. The air sung and he was blown back by a wave of his own magic washing over him.
The blood wards.
His blood wards.
Gone.
Haydn was free.
A decade long mystery is about to be solved. We're going back home to see the ghost of Privet Drive. Stay tuned!
Cabba.