Phoenix of Olympus (PJO/Harry Potter) UNEDITED (PJ FANFICTION)

Ch. 7 Part 1- Day One...

Percy P.O.V.

I woke up gasping for breath, my heart beating out of my chest, a cold sweat dripping off my face. I clawed away at my sheets, running towards the window, desperate for air. I threw the shutters open and pulled up the paneled glass, not caring if it shattered. I took gulping breathes of the fresh air as I panted heavily. I couldn't shut my eyes, afraid the memories would return in menacing flashbacks. I took in the dark green landscape, whispering to myself that this was real, not a nightmare, that I was safe and not back there. I let the cool air brush up against my bare skin, leaving goosebumps and shivers, grateful that it wasn't the blistering heat from my dream. 

My body shook as I tried to ignore the phantom pains from my wounds, my arms and legs quivering. I clenched and unclenched my fists, drawing blood as I dug my nails into my skin. I took deep breathes through my nose, and shakily exhaled through my mouth. I released my clenched jaw, wincing slightly as the sore joints popped. I leaned up against the windowsill, my weight resting on my wrists, as I felt my legs weaken. I leaned down, resting my head near my fists. I could feel my muscles spasming, the tension trying to release as my mind continued to panic. I pushed up and straitened, much to my body's protest. 

I closed my eyes for a brief moment before I had to open them again. I looked outside, trying to distract myself, taking in the landscape. The night sky was just beginning to lighten, the black fading into a deep royal blue. It reminded me of the ocean's depths, the color you see when you're out sailing beyond the horizon. There were a few twinkling stars that continued to shine despite the rising sun, the north star burning bright above the horizon. The green fields of grass outside of my window almost seemed black but I could feel the dew drops on every single blade. The Forbidden Forest was just an ominous shadow in the distance, its walls of bark preventing any closer observation. I looked down at a little brick shack that lay by the forest's borders, a small ember of orange light burning from the window, a light gray stream of smoke floating up. It wasn't long before the horizon line was bright orange, the sky becoming a mesmerizing collage of dark and light turquoise blues. 

It seemed like a life time ago when I would innocently gaze out across the ocean and watch the sun rise. A feeling of nostalgia washed over me as I thought of Camp Halfblood...and her. I remembered the day I proposed to her in Greece. I had been so nervous that I woke up before dawn and climbed down to the ocean side. I walked along the beach, messing with the ring box in my left pocket, watching the sunrise, daydreaming about how she would react to my proposal. And then she was next to me, out of the blue. She didn't say a word. She just came up behind me, pulling my right hand out of the pocket and laced her fingers with mine. I relished the warmth her hand emanated as I worried for our future. Her presence was calming, a warm flame that drove away the cold. We just stood there, watching the waves in comfortable silence, thinking about everything and nothing. And once the sun had risen, we turned around and walked back, holding each other up as we prepared to face another day in the war. 

I broke from my thoughts as I felt a drop of moisture land on my hand. I looked down at it, unsure where it came from. Another drop fell and I flinched, surprised by its appearance. I slowly brought my hand up to my face, bewildered as I brushed it underneath my eyes. I pulled it up in front of me to see my fingertips dampened. Tears. I had been crying. I gave out a short, dry, painful laugh as I turned my hand around to properly look upon the tear. It had been so long since I had last cried that I thought it was impossible for me. I smiled and felt more tears fall, relishing in the idea that I could still cry but breaking inside as I mourned and remembered my lost love.

A sharp, brief collection of knocks brought me out of memorabilia. "Professor Jackson?"

"Yes?", I called out as I brazenly wiped away my tears and took control of my emotions. By the time I reached the door-handle, my face was calm and composed. I pulled it open to find Minerva, a collection of scrolls in her arms and her head held high as she gazed at my face with distaste.