At first glance, Percy Jackson is the son of Poseidon, the Hero of Olympus, survivor of Tartarus, the defeater of Monsters; but deep within his roots stems magic that reaches into another world: the world of wizards and witches and dark lords and on...
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Harry heaved his bags up the stairs, unable to use magic now that he was outside Hogwarts. The term was finally over. He was joining Percy and Annabeth at the Jackson Estate for the first few weeks of summer before returning for a short stay at the Dursley's on Dumbledore's command. He was glad to have at least some peace this holiday.
It had been just over a week since the Battle of the Department of Mysteries; since Voldemort possessed his mind; since Sirius was murdered.
Harry was not okay.
He had shut himself up in his dorm for the week, hiding from the world and everyone in it, until this morning when Percy arrived to collect him. No way he was taking the train home. Facing the world was something he could not possibly think about at this moment. Harry knew it would only stir up more rumors but he honestly could not care. His godfather was dead, and he was alone.
Harry entered his bedroom, the one that Percy and Annabeth had made specially for him, and thrust his trunk to the foot of the bed. He stared blankly at the wall, locked in his own mind.
"When all of this is over, we'll be a proper family," Sirius had said. But where was Sirius now?
In a burst of anger, Harry kicked the leg of the bed, only to shout in pain when his toes spasmed and ached.
He promised!
"Harry?" Came Annabeth's gentle voice before her head appeared around the door. Her eyes were sunken from tiredness and her hair was a tussled mess, obviously unkept. "Are you alright?"
Harry couldn't find it in himself to respond. Instead, he sunk to the floor beside his trunk, trying to force the tears back. It just occurred to him— no one had asked him that all week.
"No," came his meek reply.
Annabeth pursed her lips. "Can I sit with you?" She asked softly. Harry nodded. She came and sat beside him, pushing the trunk away, and pulled him closer to her. Annabeth was always the older sister that Harry never knew he needed. He had always loved her but now... now he admired her as well. She was so warm and comforting, even in silence. Harry quickly found his walls tumbling down, releasing the flood of emotions he had struggled to bury away.
~•~
Giving Harry one last glance —he was now fast asleep amongst his many blankets and pillows— Annabeth shut the door with a soft click! She remained at the door, listening closely, but Harry made no sound. The daughter of Athena released a deep sigh. It had been a difficult week to say the least.
Leaving the door, Annabeth started down the stairs, passing a bustling Tinky as she did, and entered the living room where she found her husband in the same place she had left him an hour ago: standing at the window, staring out at the dreary gardens. In a flash of her memory, Percy's rigid stance reminded her of Luke as he was turning to the dark side (not that she knew at the time.) Luke would stand in the Big House, looking out at the camp in deep and silent contemplation. When she asked, he'd reply that he was thinking about the future. Annabeth had always laughed; she had never really believed she'd have much of a future.
Wishing her memories away, Annabeth entered the room and came to her husband's side, sliding her hand into his. His green eyes turned away from the window unto her. For many years, they had been losing their shine but now it seemed even more evident. With every death he witnessed, Percy lost a little life himself.
Annabeth stood on her toes and placed a kiss on his cheek, earning a small smile. He squeezed her hand in silent thanks, then turned back to the glass.
"Things are changing," he finally said.
Annabeth smiled wryly. "Things are always changing in our lives, Seaweed Brain." Truthfully, she had another change to add to it, but now was certainly not the time to tell. "We're demigods and we're wizards. What did you expect?"
Percy sighed. "A little mercy from the Fates?"
On cue, and not by coincidence, thunder boomed in the distance. The sky opened and lightning struck, setting a distant oak tree alight.
"Or not," Percy concluded. "Is Harry alright, at least?"
"No," Annabeth answered truthfully. "Give him some time. He had a good cry just now. All he needs is some sleep."
Percy shook his head. "We both know it isn't that simple."
They fell into silence, the only sound in the room being the enthusiastic whistling of birds outside the window.
"Percy," Annabeth finally said. "Can I ask you something?"
"Of course, Wise Girl," Percy answered, turning his full attention to her. "Is everything okay?"
She smiled gently. "Yes. Just... curious. If you ever had a child, what name would you want for them?"
Percy's eyebrows knitted together. "What kind of a question is that?"
"I told you!" Annabeth said quickly, smacking his hand lightly. "It's hypothetical!"
Percy stifled a laugh, eyes glistening with glee once again. "I- I never really thought about it. Last time-"
Annabeth's smile slipped. "Don't... don't talk about that. Please?"
Percy nodded slowly. "Yeah... I guess, if it was a boy, Luke would be befitting. And a girl... Silena."
After it processed in her mind, Annabeth couldn't help but smile and launched herself at her husband, holding back tears. "I couldn't agree more."
~•~
June 27th, 1996
The following morning, Percy dragged Harry out of bed, shoved a blue pancake (curtesy of Tinky) down his throat and then pulled him out onto the quidditch pitch. Although, Harry was not in the best of moods. Still in his pajamas, Harry sat on the bench with a big pout, broom cast down on the grass beside him. Meanwhile, Percy was already in the air, practically temping fate.
"Come on, Harry! Just a little while! Please?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm not getting on a stupid broom, Percy. I just want to go back to bed."
"Not until you at least take one lap around the estate," Percy challenged. "Come on! I'll race you!"
But Harry was not about to budge. "Just... let it go, Percy."
And this was the routine they had for the next two weeks: constant bickering and irritation and frustration. Harry didn't want to do anything. Percy wanted to keep busy to keep himself from thinking. That was until, on one warm July morning when Annabeth got sick.
~•~
Hello! Just two more chapters left of Order of the Phoenix! -V
