Strange Ties--Percy Jackson/Harry Potter

Chapter Thirty-One

Percy

For the past week, Percy had been hanging out with August a lot.

At first, he thought it was just a coincidence. He'd bump into her in the common room or in the Great Hall, and they'd exchange a few words. But then it became a pattern. She'd show up when he was in the library, claiming she needed help with homework. Or she'd find him outside by the lake, just sitting and staring at the water, and she'd start talking about some random topic that had nothing to do with anything. It was like she had radar for when he was alone.

Soon, they had fallen into some sort of unspoken routine. Percy would be walking through the castle, and there she'd be, leaning against a wall or sitting at a table, waiting for him. She'd wave him over with that mischievous grin, and before he knew it, they were off skipping class together.

August was definitely weird, Percy knew that for sure. She had this knack for showing up when he least expected it, a grin on her face like she knew some secret that he didn't. She had a habit of popping into conversations uninvited, offering her opinions on everything from potions to Quidditch strategies, even though she didn't even play the sport and hated potions with all her being. One moment, she'd be cracking jokes about the professors, and the next, she'd be deeply serious, sharing her thoughts on the future or the end of the world.

August didn't seem to care about his reputation or the rumors swirling around him. To her, he was just Percy, not "the grandson of Voldemort" or "the guy accused of murder." She treated him like a regular person, and that was a rare and valuable thing in a place like Hogwarts. Percy appreciated that about her. She didn't pry into his past or ask uncomfortable questions. Instead, she made him laugh and reminded him that Hogwarts could still be fun, even with all the drama and chaos. It was a refreshing change from the seriousness that often enveloped him.

And it wasn't like he had other people to hang out with. Percy had always been used to being in the spotlight-the whole "son of Poseidon" thing had always been a point of fascination- but this was different. It wasn't admiration or curiosity that people felt when they saw him now-it was fear. Since last week, everyone treated him like he was some kind of ticking time bomb. If he walked into the crowded hallways between classes, a noticeable space would open up around him, as if he carried an invisible force field that pushed people away. Even Hermione averted her eyes from him, her gaze fixed on the floor or darting to the side as he passed by. The few times he entered the Great Hall, only to meet August, the chatter would die down and heads turned to watch him as he made his way through the room. It was like they expected him to start shouting killing curses any second.

It wasn't subtle, either. People would whisper behind their hands, their eyes darting nervously in his direction. Some would freeze in their tracks, as if moving too quickly might provoke him. Percy couldn't help but find the situation a bit funny. He wasn't a monster. He'd never hurt anyone who didn't deserve it. But it seemed like no one knew that. The teachers seemed to tread carefully around him too. Even Snape stopped questioning him in class, and McGonagall's stern gaze had turned icy whenever she looked at him.

Even Valerie seemed distant, and it was driving Percy crazy. It wasn't like she was avoiding him completely; she still acknowledged him with a nod in the corridors and occasionally joined him at the library. But it wasn't the same. There was no more staying late in the library to discuss a book or chatting by the astronomy tower. It stung more than Percy liked to admit. Valerie wasn't just some random classmate; she'd become a friend, someone he could share things with that he didn't tell anyone else. He'd even shared things about his mom, and his life. Things that mattered, things that were personal. Percy didn't know what to do. He wasn't great at talking about feelings, and the thought of confronting her about it made his stomach twist into knots. He wanted to ask if she'd heard the rumors, if that's why she was acting this way, but he couldn't bring himself to say the words. What if she said yes? What if she thought he was guilty, too? He couldn't handle that, but he also couldn't handle not knowing why she was pulling back. He'd catch her in the common room sometimes, reading a book and pretending like she didn't see him. He knew she was pretending, because she'd always look up a second too late when he walked by.