The ground beneath Percy's feet trembled,not roughly, but with a slow, drumming beat, like a heartbeat from the core of the world. Nyx's spell died to nothing. The runes on the seal stone lit up, then faded to black, as though the magic had been absorbed.
Percy staggered slightly, his palm still pressed against the stone. A faint warmth lingered under his skin, not painful, but unsettling, like a memory trying to surface, just out of reach.
"Is it done?" Hermione asked, clutching her wand.
Nyx didn't answer right away. Her eyes remained fixed on the seal, expression unreadable. At last, she gave a slow nod. "For now. The seal is stabilized, but barely. We've only delayed the inevitable."
"Great," Ron growled. "So we're still doomed, just. later."
"No," Percy said quietly, pulling himself to standing. "Not doomed. Not yet."
Harry came to stand beside him. "What did it feel like? When you touched the seal?"
Percy looked down at his hand. "Like something was. reaching back. I didn't just imbue it with power. It gave me something as well. I saw flashes. Symbols. A place. And a voice."
Hermione leaned forward. "A voice?"
Percy nodded. "It used a name I've never spoken. 'Perseon.' It said to me. 'He is awakening. You must choose, bloodbound.'"
Hermione turned white. "That's old Greek. 'Perseon' is He Who Guides the Storm. I don't think that's a name, I think it's a title."
Ron groaned. "Brilliant. So now we've got an evil underground cult, a crumbling seal to a magical horror, and Percy might be some kind of. chosen storm god thing?"
Nyx looked at Percy with a fresh intensity of thought in her eyes. "The name Perseus was not one they chose for you arbitrarily. The founders made prophecies, fractured ones. They spoke of a guide who would walk the line between destruction and salvation. If what you're being told is accurate, then you are at the center of something far older than Hogwarts."
Before Percy could respond, the walls around them began to throb again, this time in unison with his heartbeat. Cracks split along the rim of the chamber, and a low, guttural growl echoed upward.
A laugh.
The same as before, deep, resonant, and gaining strength.
"He's still down there," Harry said, casting up his wand. "Acheron."
Nyx's voice dropped. "No. That wasn't Acheron."
They all stilled.
Hermione breathed, "Then what was it?"
The laughter stopped. There was silence, but not tranquility. The room was too cramped, too claustrophobic. The air vibrated and a voice resounded, not audibly, but in all heads at the same time.
"You cannot prevent the flood from bursting forever. The seal is weak. And your guide…"
Percy dropped to his knees as pressure in his head increased.
"…will make the path for you. or be engulfed by it."
Ron screamed, "Percy!
A flash of magic burst out from the seal, sending them all to the ground. Rock and dust were hurled into the air. When the dust had cleared, Percy was alone, wide-eyed, pupils rimmed with thin silver light.
"I saw it," he whispered.
Nyx walked up to him slowly. "What did you see?"
"A temple. Buried beneath the lake. Not far from the Black Lake's edge. And a key, a real key. It's connected to my past. To my name."
He turned to the others, jaw set.
"We have to find it. Before Acheron does."
Hermione looked worried. "If the temple's tied to the original sealing, unlocking it could either help us, or destroy everything."
"Then we'd better be very sure which," Harry said.
Percy's gaze wandered over to the subtle crack in the ground where Acheron had vanished.
"Because I don't think we'll have another opportunity."
Far, far below, deep within the earth…
Acheron stood before a stone altar, ablaze with scarlet flames. Above, shadows writhed and twirled in gnarled, unnatural patterns—giving birth to a huge, serpent shape with an uncountable number of eyes.
"The first bond weakens," he gasped.
Out of the darkness, a voice answered, ancient and superimposed, like a thousand whispers piled atop.
"Bring me the bloodbound. Bring me Perseon. The seal will be broken."
And the room trembled.
No matter the stirrings in the basement beneath the castle and the ominous murmurs still echoing in Percy's dreams, life at Hogwarts continued. Morning owls still descended the Great Hall with mail and parcels. Students still griped about Potions essays and Charms exams. And Percy Jackson, once addressed among a privileged few as something less than a bright first-year, was doing his best to pretend as though everything was normal.
It wasn't easy.
For one thing, people had started to notice strange things about him, how occasionally he would mutter mumbo jumbo in his sleep that no one could make out, how the candles in the Gryffindor common room would flicker when he walked past with his head in the air, how Professor Dumbledore regarded him with that kind of silent expectation that made Percy feel like a chesspiece on an invisible board to everyone else.
But routine provided Percy comfort.
In Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall, he got better steadily under the acid but fair instruction. Already, he'd managed to transform a hedgehog into a pincushion at remarkable speed. Ron still couldn't pass even making his hedgehog have a wiggly nose.
In Defense Against the Dark Arts, now taught by Professor Lupin, who returned after a brief sabbatical, Percy found himself unusually in tune with the subject matter. They were practicing shielding spells now. When Percy cast Protego, the spell didn't block, it pulsed outward, knocking the practice dummy over entirely.
"Impressive," Lupin had said, raising his eyebrows. "You're pushing raw magic through the shield, not something many can manage."
That left Percy feeling better for roughly ten seconds before Hermione leaned in to whisper, "That's not normal, is it?"
No. It wasn't.
In spite of all this, he liked the breaks. The walk down to Herbology, where Neville excelled more than anyone else. The ridiculous things that Fred and George Weasley tried to sneak onto the breakfast table. Hagrid's laughter, thundering louder than anyone, during Care of Magical Creatures, especially when they encountered a baby griffin named Pounce which at once tried to bite Malfoy's robes.
And, most of all, maybe, the nights spent late in study with Harry, Ron, and Hermione in the Gryffindor common room.
"I still think that voice you heard was an illusion of whatever's trapped under the school," Hermione said one night, cross-legged on the floor with a mound of books piled around her like a fort.
Percy leaned back against the couch, a limp liquorice wand held tightly in his fingers. "Maybe. But it knew me. Knew things I haven't told anyone."
Harry placed a chess piece on the board. "Do you think the teachers know more than they're admitting?"
Percy frowned. "Dumbledore certainly does."
Ron, who was losing spectacularly to Harry, groaned. "Of course he does. He always knows something. Just never tells anyone until it's too late.".
Hermione shut her book. "At any rate, we must find out more. If there is a temple under the lake as you said—"
"We'll require a way to get there," Percy finished. "And a reason to tell anyone why we're diving."
"Good luck to you," said Ron, sitting up, "we've got the entire term before the lake freezes over. And I've got a cousin who says the library's got a book on magical diving spells."
Percy smiled feebly. "Thanks, Ron."
The fire in the common room at that moment blazed blue for a heartbeat. No one else seemed to notice except Percy, who swung around towards it, thumping heart.
"Did you see—"
Hermione shook her head. "See what?"
Percy stared at the fire. The blue was gone. Maybe it had been just an effect of the light.
Or maybe not.
Later that night, in bed, Percy stared up at the ceiling, wide awake. His fingers tingled, not with restlessness, but with power. The kind that flared when he wasn't paying attention. The kind that had shattered stone.
He whispered, "Perseon."
The wind outside replied with a low moan, rustling the curtains like a breath.
In the silence that followed, he could feel it again.
Not evil. Not exactly.
But waiting.
Watching.
Somewhere deep beneath the lake, the key resonated.
The school started the week off on an excitement high: the Dueling Club was to be reinstated.
It had been spoken of in Charms, Professor Flitwick had said. "Voluntary, of course," he had said cheerfully, sitting on piles of books so that he could peer over the top of his desk. "But an excellent way to hone your spellcasting and acquire some defensive magic."
Ron grinned. "I'll wager Malfoy signs up just to brag."
Hermione's eyes glittered. "Good. He needs to be put in his
Percy did not answer. Already, he wondered whether his instincts, those strange flashes of magic, could be controlled in a duel.
That Thursday evening, the long tables had been removed from the Great Hall. A dueling stage took its place, enchanted to soften hard landings. Students lingered on the edges, in whispers. Professors Flitwick and Lupin were off to one side, watching the club.
"Ready wands!" Flitwick then cried. "Let's begin with an example."
The initial pairing: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy
Of course.
Malfoy moved onto the stage as though it were the catwalk, carelessly twirling his wand. Harry, unhurried yet intent, held his ground against him. On Flitwick's cue, the duel started.
"Expelliarmus!" Harry exclaimed first, the red spell narrowly missing Malfoy.
"Serpensortia!" cried out Draco, and summoned a snake that coiled on the ground.
Percy stiffened. The image was too realistic. But before anything further could occur, Lupin stepped forward and dispelled the snake with a negligent flick of his wand.
Let's remain civil," he cautioned. "This is not an old scores contest."
They changed partners, and soon enough, poor Percy found himself facing an older Hufflepuff boy named Colin Denham.
Flitwick raised his hand. "Begin!"
Colin acted first: "Stupefy!
Percy blocked automatically, too hard, too quickly.
His shield crackled with an indigo-blue energy wave that knocked Colin off the stage.
Gasps echoed the hallway.
"I—excuse me," Percy started, taking
Colin sat up straight, dazed but unhurt. "What sort of spell was that?"
Percy was at a loss for words. So was Professor Flitwick, for
Lupin's eyes grew slightly narrowed. "Interesting," growled Lupin, as Percy made an entrance.
Hermione had figured it out already that night in the common room.
"That wasn't an ordinary shield charm," she said, flipping through one of her ever-growing stack of books. "Your magic is different, more potent, but also reactive."
Ron stuck one of the Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans into his mouth and grimaced. "Ugh. Socks. What does that even signify, anyway?"
Percy leaned on the couch arm. "That what's in the temple, or within me, is not just reacting, but is transforming."
Hermione snapped her book shut. "Then let's go to the temple now."
"I think I've worked that one out," said Percy. "The library did include an area on magic and water, things normally forbidden, but I did manage to find one instance of how the merpeople dive deep into the water. It's called Glacien Vade. It does not grow gills, but instead surrounds you with magic to push the water back and equalize the pressure."
"It's quite complicated," Hermione replied, frowning.
"Yes, it is," agreed Percy. "But I think I can handle it."
Ron looked between them alternately. "Wait. You're actually talking about swimming to an underwater temple in the Black Lake?"
"Yes," Hermione answered curtly. "And we're coming along with him."
Ron moaned. "Of course, we are."
They were going to test the spell that weekend, at the boathouse during sunset. The plan was straightforward: Percy was to cast the spell Glacien Vade using shallow water first. If it worked, they'd proceed further the following week.
Clouds covered the lake as they walked along the path beside the shoreline. No one else was around.
Percy waded through the cold shallows with wand at the ready. He shut his eyes and concentrated.
'Glacien Vade'
The magic exhaled from him in mist. The lake became still at once. Churned water that had swirled about his legs glistened, separated by unseen power. The pressure gave to buzzing sensation.
Hermione gasped with surprise.
Percy waded deeper. The water did not come anywhere close to him. It lapped around him as if an invisible shield was guarding him.
Ron gaped in disbelief. "Bloody hell!"
And then—the spell burst. The air turned painfully cold. A black shape slid beneath the surface, just within the shallows.
Percy stopped
At the lake's depth, there was something gazing upward at him through the water. Pale eyes. Seaweed-like hair trailing about it. It raised its hand—
And pointed
At him directly.
The bubble quivered. Percy stepped back, gasping.
Hermione pulled him back just as the figure vanished into the distance.
"Did you just see that?" Percy asked.
Ron nodded, looking pale. "What was that?"
Hermione picked up her notebook. "Whatever it was, it's obviously noticed you. And I don't believe that it wants to be found."
They looked out at the lake. Waves gently lapped at the shore.
But below something had stirred. And it was watching.
To be Continued?
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I actually don't know how I should end my chapters :(
See you guys next week!