A Half Blood Against Time | A Percy Jackson AU

24: "Uh, in my defence you tasted really good."

The morning sun streamed through Percy's bedroom window, casting a warm glow that gently roused him from a night of dreams that felt too sweet to be true. As he blinked away the remnants of sleep, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips-a silent testament to the enchanting memories of the previous night.

In the soft light, Percy's mind drifted back to the magic that unfolded during a clandestine rendezvous under the stars. He had led Fleur to their tree. He had kissed her, she had kissed him. It was a memory that now played like a cherished melody in his heart.

The taste of her lips lingered, an intoxicating blend of love and desire that had left an indelible mark on Percy's senses. As he recalled the tender warmth of that stolen kiss, a rush of emotions cascaded through him-joy being the most prominent. He had never been in a relationship before, he did not even know if he was dating Fleur now. He had told her that he loved her but under the moonlit tree, she had not heard him. The mere thought of her-her laughter, the way her eyes sparkled under the moonlight-filled Percy's heart with a warmth that transcended the chill of the December morning air.

He couldn't help but replay the details of the night, savoring each precious moment. The Yule Ball, the conversations that flowed effortlessly, the dance under the sky, and then, beneath the canvas of the old oak tree's branches, the hesitant yet inevitable leaning in that culminated in a kiss-a kiss that bridged the unspoken distance between friendship and something more profound.

Percy's fingers instinctively touched his lips, as if seeking confirmation that the magic was real. The sensation was electric, he could still remember the feel of her lips on his. The taste of Bouxballise on her lips, and even though Percy hated fish, in that moment he had never loved it more. As Percy navigated the morning routine, the ordinary tasks took on a surreal quality. The mirror reflected a boy with a lightness in his step, a sparkle in his eyes that mirrored the afterglow of a magical night. Even the mundane-brushing his teeth, washing his face-became a ritual tinged with the resonance of love's enchantment and the fear of his past life. The demigod had no idea if he was supposed to let Fleur know or not. The last he had kept secrets from her, it had not ended well for him.

He walked down to the Great Hall as soon as he was ready and found it packed it people, all dressed in casual clothing. As Percy did not know much about the castle's dim population during Christmas, it did not strike him as strange to see so many people. But, to any other Hogwarts student who had spent Christmas at the castle- the castle was full of people, which was unlike Christmas. Percy yawned as he looked around for familiar faces, his friends had still been sleeping when he had walked down- most of them were tired from the night before. He walked over to the Gryffindor table, he had spotted the fourth year Harry Potter.

"Harry!" Percy cheered as he sat down next to the fourth champion, "How have you been?"

Harry smiled, "I'm good Percy, and you?"

"Can't complain," Percy smiled, he looked Harry over and noticed the boy looked ragged, he was still in his cousin's oversized clothes and looked tired. Deep shadows lingered beneath his eyes like smudged charcoal and the lines and creases etched into his skin seemed more pronounced.

"What's wrong?" Percy asked, "Didn't get much sleep last night?"

Harry sighed, "Yes, it's. . . it's that dream again."

"The one Voldemort keeps sending you?" Percy lowered his voice to a whisper. Harry had told the demigod all about Voldemort and his nightmares on his birthday. He had felt like he needed to.

Harry nodded, "Yes. . . are you sure it's him though?"

"Trust me Harry, it's always the psychotic mass murderers. They can't help it, it's their thing. Anyway, have you managed to remember anything at all about the dream? Anything at all?"