Saving Wisdom and Wizards *REWRITE* || PJO x HP

Chapter 3: When Harry Met Percy

Against Percy's better judgment, he entered the decrepit building first, and was immediately assaulted by a screaming portrait.

"Just ignore her, she's always been rather a pain," Dumbledore said.

Percy wasn't caught off guard by the painting yelling at him, he was more startled at the fact that the painting was yelling at all. Mrs. Weasley walked in from behind him, chuckling slightly at his discomfort, and began walking down the hallway.

Percy didn't think it was very funny.

He was going to follow Mrs. Weasley until Dumbledore motioned for him to stay. The headmaster began to tell him about the history of the house and the portrait. Percy didn't listen to it. Instead, he was trying to make out the hushed conversation from behind the doors at the end of the hallway.

"What is he doing here?" Percy heard a male voice angrily whisper. Percy assumed that he was the "he" the boy referred to.

"Because Harry, he's a powerful wizard." A girl whispered just as loudly back.

Percy decided to go introduce himself. He didn't want to be here, and that boy- Harry- clearly didn't want him there either. Besides, Dumbledore's history lesson was extremely boring.

"And besides, we don't know that he–" It was then that Percy walked through the door.

Silence fell over the room as Percy surveyed the people he walked in on. He vaguely noticed Dumbledore walk in behind him and take a seat.

A group of three teens stood opposite him– a boy with ginger hair, a boy who looked like a skinnier version of himself, and a girl who reminded him a lot of Anna– no. A girl with bushy brown hair.

Standing off to the side, he guessed was Mrs. Weasley's family. They all had ginger hair. That, and Molly looked like she would murder him if he took one step towards them.

The rest of the small room was crowded with various adults, whom he assumed were all wizards.

Considering they all had pointy sticks that he was like eighty percent sure could kill him, Percy thought it would be best to be diplomatic. Or at least try to, seeing as his grandfather was a notorious dark wizard and all.

"Um, hi. I'm Percy Jackson." Percy held his hand out to the boy who looked like himself. The boy stared at Percy's hand. No one moved. Maybe shaking hands wasn't something they did here?

"Harry," the boy in front of him introduced, but made no move towards Percy. He just stood there, glaring.

Percy didn't know what to do. So, he took his hand back and continued to be nice, despite his temper slowly worsening. Besides, what's the worst that could happen? They send him home? Good.

"It's uh, nice to meet you. Harry Potter, right? Dumbledore, he uh, he's told me a lot about you." If possible, that made Harry glare harder at him. Not that this had any effect on Percy– he perfected the death glare at age twelve.

The rest of the wizards, though Percy could sense, were uncomfortable. They tensed every time he talked, gripping their wands. Jokes on them, Percy didn't even have a wand yet.

"Dumbledore, he uh, said you needed help fighting against this Voldewart guy–" Percy could tell he messed up. He wasn't entirely sure how, but seeing as Harry immediately whipped out his wand and pointed it at him, he figured he did something. Not to mention the fact that everyone else now had their fancy little sticks pointed at him too.

Percy put his hands up in surrender. He did not need to get blasted today.

"Don't you dare say that we need your help!" Harry yelled.

Percy's temper was really starting to hit a boiling point. He was being diplomatic even though Dumbledore all but kidnapped him, and drafted him to fight in their stupid war.

"Look, Harry, dude. I don't even want to fight in your war, okay? I want to go back to New York and live out what's left of my life in peace. Your headmaster here is the one who brought me into this. Put the wand down."

Harry looked furious. Percy would have laughed if he didn't look like he was actually going to kill him. "Don't. Don't try to act like you're nice," Harry fumed. "You're just like him! I put my wand down, and you'll take yours and use it to kill everyone in this room!".

Percy groaned. "I don't even have a wand! And I don't care if you live or die, so get over the ego and put the stupid stick down."

"Stup-"

"Expelliarmus!" Harry's wand flew out of his hand onto the floor. "Accio!" The wand flew towards the brown-haired girl who caught it effortlessly.

The room went silent once more.

"Hermione-"

"Shut it, Harry." The girl- Hermione- faced Percy. "You don't have a wand." Percy didn't know how to respond. It wasn't exactly a question, so he just shook his head no. "That's what I thought. And you–" Hermione faced Harry. "If he was with Voldemort–"

Right, Vol-de-mort. Percy thought.

"--don't you think he would have a wand?"

"He could be playing stupid, have left it somewhere, knowing that we would think that!"

Hermione frowned, shaking her head. "Honestly, Harry. Do you hear yourself? You don't even know this man. Give him a chance to explain who he is, then you can try and kill him," Hermione ranted.

Percy smiled. She reminded him of Annabeth. He tensed. Annabeth wasn't gone, so he needed to stop acting like she was.

Harry glared. "Fine." He warily put his wand down.

Percy wasn't sure what to do. He should at least be nice to Hermione, right? She did help him even though she knew about Grandpa Voldy Wart.

No one else in the room moved. Percy wasn't sure why it was up to a seventeen-year-old girl to stop Harry and not say, Dumbledore, or any of the other adults in the room, but unfortunately Percy learned a long time ago that adults typically don't intervene in situations (unless it's his mom of course).

Thankfully, Molly spoke up before Harry could commit first degree murder. "Why don't we sit and have some tea? Percy, dear, would you like some tea?" Molly was already heading towards the stove on the other side of the room, and using magic to fill up a kettle. He watched as she muttered incantations, causing the gas stove to ignite and start boiling the water.

"Um, sure, thanks."

"Wonderful, go on and feel free to take a seat dear." Percy looked towards the table, where everyone else was already seated. Of course, because good luck wasn't a word in Percy's vocabulary, the only open chair was next to the one and only Harry "I hate Percy" Potter.

Between Harry's glaring and the uncomfortable atmosphere of the room, Percy decided to stand.

Molly then rushed in, with the magic kettle following and filling up everyone's tea cups.

"Percy," the woman said, turning to the standing boy. "Sit down, dear."

"Uh, no thanks, Mrs. Weasley. You should have the chair." Percy guessed that everyone thought he would be a rude human being, seeing as shock was written all over their faces. It was clear they didn't know regardless of his heritage, he was raised by Sally Jackson, and if there was one thing he learned, was to never be rude to a lady (unless that lady was Hera, in which case, niceties went out the door).

"Molly, thank you for the tea and coffee, but we should get going," Dumbledore said. Practically everyone started to stand up and poof away. Percy gave a slight scowl at the untouched mugs of hot drinks. They couldn't have at least taken a sip? The only people who remained were the Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione.

"Please, dear, call me Molly. And besides, would you look at that? Empty chairs. Take a seat."