Percy Jackson X Harry Potter

TWENTY TWO: The Dude In The Duck Floatie

Percy's POV

DEMIGOD DREAMS ALWAYS HAD some kind of meaning. Usually a dark one.

They were warnings, visions and omens. They weren't just pictures made up from the recent memories of the demigod. They were a reflection of something that has, was, or soon would be, happening in the real world. Even messages could be sent via dreams.

Percy's dreams were often like this. In the past, he had dreamt of a titan lord plotting to kill him, his best friend being held captive by said titan lord, his other best friend trying to convince her parents to send her to school in exchange for a two-day-long vacation, and even his other best friend in a wedding dress preparing to get married.

But never, ever in a dream before had he encountered a pale, noseless dude floating across a river, sitting on an inflatable duck floatie made of dirt.

When he first laid eyes upon this man, with a black cloak, no hair and veins crawling up his scalp, he thought Nah, this is a mistake. Maybe Morpheus is having an off-day. But by the time he had rubbed the yellow gunk out of the corners of his eyes, the man was still there – just a couple of feet further on his voyage.

Also, and this was totally absurd, the river seemed to be screaming.

'Wh...' he mumbled. 'What?'

Immediately, as if a bomb had exploded beneath him, the dark-robed man jumped, almost falling off his duck floatie.

'What? Who are you? Who's there?! I warn you, I could kill you in an instant.' he said, his voice breathy and cold.

'Uhh, who are you?' Percy asked. The man looked around again, and his crimson eyes focused on him. Similar to Kronos, this man could clearly see him in his dreams.

'I asked first. Besides, how did you get down here, for heaven's sake? Although I suppose I shouldn't say that, since this is clearly not heaven.'

'Well, uh-' He stuttered. What was he supposed to say? 'I'm only eavesdropping. I'm not actually, physically, here.' he said, gesturing around him.

'...Okay?' the man forced out.

'So, you asked first, and you got your answer. Who are you?' Percy smirked.

The man huffed. 'I am Voldemort, the most powerful wizard of my time.'

Percy felt like laughing. 'Voldewhat?'

'Voldemort. Nine letters, three syllables. It's not that hard.'

He felt a sudden rush of adrenaline. Voldemort. Now where had he heard that before?

'Okay. So you're Voldewhatever, magical wizard dude and stuff.' he summarised. 'And if my eyes aren't deceiving me, you seem to be floating in the middle of a screaming river on a duck floatie.'

'Well, yes. After I was killed, I appeared here in Tartarus.'

Percy asked, 'How'd you die?'

Voldemort looked almost embarrassed. 'I was, sort of, burnt to death. This huge cauldron of boiling potion exploded, although I have no clue how that happened. My essence reformed in Tartarus, obviously.'

Tartarus. The deepest part of the Underworld, where all monsters reformed when they were killed. Percy wondered what this guy must have done to end up down here. 'That still doesn't explain the floatie.'

'I quickly found out that you are sent to the underworld in the clothes you died in. And the clothes that I died in just so happened to be these very robes. So when I checked the inside pocket, my wand was still safely tucked away.' He reached into the left side of his robes and pulled out a long, slender wand carved from bone.

'It didn't take too much effort to form a floating device with what limited resources I had: those being dirt, soil and a bit of compost (for some reason). I hope I can reach the other side of this screaming river – the River Cocytus, I believe it's called – and pass through the tunnel to return to the mortal world.' 

The floatie wobbled, and Voldemort shifted to stay afloat, but a brief look of hilarious panic formed on his face. 'Then I will wreak havoc on the boy who I failed to kill at the time of my death,' at this, he scowled. 'as well as the rest of his kind.'

'Who is he?'

He groaned. 'Harry Potter.'

Percy sucked in a breath. Harry Potter?! As in, his brother Harry? If this Voldemort dude wanted to kill Harry as much as he looked like it, Percy would be the ideal bait. After all, if there was anything Percy knew, it was that losing family sucked.

'You're not going very fast.' Percy observed.

'Unfortunately.' Voldemort stated. 'At this rate, I might not reach the bank of this river for at least three days.'

'Three days?!'

He shrugged. 'More or less. And even then, I'll still have to walk for two more of them to reach the edge of the Underworld and return to life.'

Throughout this chain of events, Voldemort's floatie had been slowly-but-surely making its way across the river. Which raised the question:

'Why did you add a duck head?' Percy queried.

Voldemort sniffed. 'Don't judge me. I may be half dead, but I still have taste.'

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Okay. Some of the timelines don't match. And I like this chapter too much to try and fix it.

So in this story, Voldemort died in Harry's fourth year. See the next chapter for the details.

Don't kill me.

-GingerNinja4573