Percy Jackson X Harry Potter

SEVEN: In Which Percy Gossips With The Polecat Lady

Harry's POV

AT THE END OF PERCY'S EXPLANATION of gods, heroes and special summer camps, Harry's eyes were dry from how long he'd been staring.

Percy sighed, tilting his head to the side. 'You don't believe me, do you?'

'Uhh, it is hard to believe. I'm not doubting you. It's just... gods?'

Percy cracked his knuckles. 'Only one way to prove it.' He held out his hand, and tugged inward, as if he were grabbing something. Harry was slapped in the back of the head with something slimy and wet. He felt his hair. Water.

'What the–!'

'In case you're wondering,' Percy interrupted, 'that was me. Using my powers. To hit you in the head with water from the sink 'cause you're so dam stubborn. Believe me now?'

'I- Merlin, that hurt! And now there's cold water dripping down my back...' Harry's hand explored the back of his head.

'I gotcha.' He snapped his fingers, and Harry's back dried instantly. Even the small puddle of water collecting in his hood had vanished without a trace. Harry looked up in shock, and Percy wiggled his eyebrows as if to say, I told you so.

Harry was speechless for a solid thirty seconds. 'Okay... Are you sure?'

'Do you need more convincing after that??'

'No! I mean, uh... As much as I want to believe you, it's quite turn-your-life-upside-down information,' he explained, due to the absence of a more appropriate term.

'It's fine, dude. Take your time. But I am telling the truth. Pinkie promise.' Percy smiled. Phew. 'Also, does this place have a bathroom? I forgot to go this morning.'

'Somewhere in the bar. Ask Tom.' Harry said, nodding towards the door.

'Okay. I'll go do that.' His brother gave him a double thumbs-up. 'See you in a bit.'

He exited the room, and Harry was left alone. Sitting on a bed with nothing to do and no one to talk to proved to be quite boring, so he rested his chin in his hand and thought over the matters Percy was talking about not five minutes before.

He stayed like this for twenty seconds before he was interrupted.

'I feel like I've missed something,' a voice remarked from the corner of the room.

Harry jumped out of his skin and banged his head against the metal bed frame, which hurt like hell (especially after Percy had hit him with a water spout). His head snapped towards the source of the voice.

A woman was sitting on Percy's chair, legs and arms crossed, her sharp features pulled into a confused expression. Her amber-yellow eyes curiously explored Harry's every feature. Her sleeveless dress was a deep, rich burgundy, adorned with jewels and swirling misty patterns that seemed to shift – or he was just going crazy. She wore layered necklaces and rings, bangles on both wrists. Her hair was thick, curly and dark (in a way that vaguely reminded him of Percy's), tied up in an elegant high ponytail that spilled down her shoulders like ink in water, crowned with an elaborate, bejewelled headpiece. She looked like one of those fortune tellers you'd find in a tent at a carnival, whom you'd pay a few pounds to receive some fortune from a fake crystal ball – except this was the real deal.

Harry was absolutely certain she hadn't been there before.

'Who are you?' he asked, dazed, rubbing the back of his head.

'I could have sworn Percy was right here. Where's he gone?' The woman ignored his question. She spoke with a British accent, like his own. Her voice radiated authority and power — as did she.