The Forgotten Olympian |BOOK 1| PJO X HP | Alexandra Marine

Chapter 94 - Alex - Renovation

Sleeping on carpets is not fun.

Since only three of the beds had come (they could only be used by one) Will, Jason and Annabeth won over us other three and Percy, Nico and I were sleeping in the big hall, on the carpet. 

At least we'd washed them pretty well.

"I'm going to kill Annabeth for giving the idea of rock paper scissors," I grumbled.

"I'll help you," Nico muttered.

"We're right here, you know?" Jason said, looking down from his bed.

"We know," Percy said, "that's why we're letting you know of your fate. Have fun with nightmares."

The next morning, we had the most basic breakfast of America: PB&J. You can't blame us. The rations shop next to us had only a few things that we could actually use.

"Dude," Will asked as we started to set up all the furniture. "Are we sure that we are legally allowed to stay anywhere without adults?"

"Dude, we're technically above eighteen," Jason said.

"In the body of sixteen year olds."

"Besides," Percy said, "no one can actually even see this house. It doesn't matter."

"You know what we should totally do though?" Annabeth said. 

"What?"

"Buy paint."

"What for?" I asked.

"Well," Annabeth said, "the portraits here are rather old. It might be cool to just retouch them, y'know? A new light to the paintings might add a modern look."

And so, the house at Number 12, Grimmauld Place was covered in plastic, paper, and cans of orange, red, peach, white and black paint. 

We started to re-touch the paintings. Jason got the new name 'Pocahantas' because, 'paint with all the colors of the wind'. The portraits protested all the time but remained still all the same.

One particularly annoying painting was that of Walburga Black.

She resisted all our efforts to paint her face and ran from one portrait to another, seeking refuge from our brushes. So that night, Percy and I sneaked onto her painting when she was finally taking rest from all the running away.

"AHHHHHHH!" 

That was the sound of what we woke up to the next day. 

Walburga Black was screaming so loudly I thought the people at Number 11 might hear us. Of course, she did have a reason to.

Walburga Black's red robes had turned black overnight, and her clean face was now spotted with a mustache. 

"We didn't do that," I said. I was being very honest.

"I did," said Annabeth, smirking. "She's been screaming ever since we came here. I just asked my mother to help us by shutting her up until I found some good punishment."

"Hades would be proud," said Nico, nodding. 

"Lovely piece of work," I said. "Didn't know you were such a good artist."

"AHHHHHHH!" screamed Walburga.

Nico and I shot her a threatening look. 

"Wanna meet Thanatos?" I asked. "He likes to burn paintings down. You know, dip them in varnish-"

"Yeah," Nico said, "the second step is to make sure that the fire doesn't exactly burn the person in the portrait."

"Then he stitches the portrait into a toy and gives it to a three headed dog called Cerebrus."