Demigods at Hogwarts | the rescue mission ✔

50| The Choice

Percy's POV

I doubled over as waves of nausea wrecked me completely, managing to get my hands on a cardboard box seconds before I started retching. Hera had once yeeted Piper back to Camp Half-Blood after she'd freed the goddess from Gaea's cage, and I now understood why Piper had called it an "unpleasant experience". It took me a few minutes to gather myself and stop dry heaving, and a lot had happened by the time I fully took in my surroundings.

We were in a dark, dreary room that should've been one of those Extreme Makeover: Home Edition shows years ago—the few pieces of furniture scattered around all seemed to have come from 19th century Victorian England, and that wasn't a compliment. The lacework of spiders were plastered onto every dusty corner in sight, triggering my gag reflex as memories of those putrid creatures attacking Annabeth's and I flooded my mind.

Harry and Hermione, who were flanked by Dumbledore and McGonagall, were slack-jawed and startled by our sudden appearance. Piper, the only demigod present aside from Annabeth, Jason and I, already had her face buried in Jason's bare chest—the son of Jupiter's SPQR purple shirt had conveniently disappeared. I had been subconsciously holding Annabeth's hand the whole time, and it didn't take long for us to get tangled in each other's arms.

The world seemed to stop still on its axis just to witness our first embrace in a long time—her arms wrapped around my neck and my hands glued to her waist, because simply holding her wasn't enough. The slim hourglass figure she'd had last summer had faded into nothing but skin and bone, and her ribs protruded from her torso. I knew she was more fragile than she'd ever been, but I also knew she wouldn't want to be treated like a porcelain doll—beautiful, but so susceptible to injury that nobody dared to approach her. Annabeth wasn't a princess, she was a warrior. We both had battle wounds, but they would gradually become scars as long as we could heal together.

With a year's worth of dopamine in my brain and the goofiest smile on my face, I closed my eyes and savoured the sense of relief that came with the realisation that I wasn't dead. But I never let go of the girl in my arms, the woman I had always been destined to be with—not even when I turned to the perplexed wizards who were still struggling to process the scene unfolding before them.

"Hi," I said as casually as I could. "We're back."

+++

Despite being ecstatic to return to camp, the demigods all decided to attend Cedric's funeral before departing. Hazel and I took the liberty of giving Annabeth a tour around Hogwarts, and she (surprisingly) chose to make out with me in the Prefects bathroom instead of taking notes on the architecture of the school. Ariadne had accidentally walked in on us, but she'd done so while unbuttoning a sixth-year Ravenclaw's shirt—still, I silently thanked her for keeping her mouth shut.

Annabeth and I had brought Piper along to charmspeak Hermione into joining us at camp, but the demiwizard had given her consent without a second thought, revealing that she'd known about her godly parentage all along. It didn't take Annabeth long to treat her as the little sister she'd never had, and the two quickly discovered their intellectual compatibility. I was guessing they also had conversations about boys, because Annabeth had given Harry her infamous death stare multiple times after a particularly teary exchange between the two half-sisters.

The sky above Hogwarts was as clear as it could be in late June, and the wind sent strands of Annabeth's blonde hair flying into my face. Sunlight filtered through the stained glass windows of the Great Hall, illuminating Cedric Diggory's coffin and easing the shivers that were running down my spine. I knew I could've prevented the wizard's death by stunning him before he could tag along on our trip to the graveyard, and maybe we wouldn't all be mourning him if I'd been more insistent...