When Myths Meet Magic || 2

11|| Percy

Percy stepped into the Great Hall and immediately regretted his decision. The entire hall had been decorated with live bats, Hagrid's massive pumpkins which had reached the size of sheds, and there was a troupe of dancing skeletons in front of the high table.

"Why're you making me come?" Jason complained as he and Percy headed back to the Gryffindor common room.

"Dude, I'm not facing a deathday party without my best man," Percy said as they entered through the portrait hole. "And also Annabeth's hanging with Ginny, Frank, and Thalia don't want to go, Piper'll get bullied by the Slytherins for hanging out with 'Gryffindors', and Nico and Hazel can't go to a party of escaped souls."

"There it is," Jason sighed.

When they stepped through the portrait hole, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were waiting by the fireplace, conversing quietly.

"I wish we could go to the Halloween feast." Harry swung his feet glumly.

"A promise is a promise," Hermione scolded. "You said you'd go."

Harry sighed. "I know. Shall we, then?"

They wandered out of the common room and headed to the dungeons.

"Hey, Percy? Jason? I haven't told you guys this yet, but the night I had detention with Lockhart, I heard a strange voice." Harry said hesitantly.

"A strange voice, huh?" Jason shrugged. "Maybe it was one of the Lockhart portraits. They're pretty strange."

Harry shook his head. "No, Lockhart couldn't seem to hear it. It was kind of faint, and it sounded really evil. I don't think he was pretending to not be able to hear it either, he sounded genuinely confused."

"What did it say?" Percy asked.

Harry shuddered. "Something about blood, death, and killing. I don't want to think about it. Do you guys have any idea?"

They shook their heads. "If you want to know something, ask Annabeth," Percy advised. "She's the best for it, being the daughter of Athena and all."

Hermione elbowed Harry. "That's what I said," she reminded him.

Percy noticed a considerable change in the atmosphere as they headed deeper into the dungeons. The air was definitely colder, and there was a mourning vibe in the air. They turned a corner and spotted some black drapes with the ghost of the Gryffindor house floating in front of it.

"My friends," Nearly Headless Nick said mournfully. "Come in."

They entered the freezing cold dungeon, which smelled like rotting food and had a horrible screeching sound resonating throughout. Hundreds of ghosts were there, milling around, chatting, or doing other ghostly things.

"I'm assuming this isn't edible," Ron said, making a face at a plate of rotting fish. Percy looked sadly at it.

I'm sorry, my friend, he thought, before they began walking around some more, lest their blood freeze in place.

"Oh no, no, turn back." Hermione stopped abruptly. "I don't want to talk to Moaning Myrtle."

The boys looked at her, confused. "Who?"

Hermione grimaced. "Moaning Myrtle. She haunts the girl's toilet on the third floor. No one goes in there, it's been out of order for ages. She has these horrible tantrums sometimes, screeching and flooding the bathroom," Hermione trailed off.

"Right. Lets not go there then," Ron suggested. "How long do we have to stay? I'm going to get frostbite."

Jason grinned. "Be happy you weren't frozen to the floor by the snow goddess. That was really cold. Thank the gods for Piper."

They turned to keep walking, but were stopped by a mischievous looking ghost.

"Nibbles?" Peeves smiled sweetly in his bright orange party hat, holding out a bowl of moldy peanuts.

"Er... No thank you," Harry said cautiously as they backed away as subtly as possible. "We were just leaving."

He ignored Harry. "Heard you talking about poor Myrtle," the ghost said casually as he straightened his purple bowtie. "Wasn't nice, that. Would be just awful if she heard what you said."

Hermione looked back frantically. "Oh no, Peeves, please, she'll be awfully upset—"

"Oh Myrtle!" Peeves called, ignoring Hermione's protests. "Myrtle, we were just talking about you!"

A young ghost girl, maybe around fourteen, floated over with overly large glasses. Her face was long and miserable. "You were talking about me again, weren't you?" She cried, her voice quavering with the threat of tears.

"Actually, we were just saying how nice you looked tonight, right boys?" Hermione looked at them desperately for support.

Tears dripped down Myrtle's face. "Don't pretend!" she wailed. "I know what people say about me behind my back. Ugly Myrtle. Fat Myrtle."

"You've forgotten pimply," Peeves whispered sharply to her. She burst into tears and fled away, Peeves chasing after her, pelting her with peanuts, and screaming, "pimply! Pimply!"

"You know, that was almost cheerful for Myrtle," Hermione said, looking slightly depressed. "C'mon, I'm frozen."

Again they tried to leave, but was stopped by Nearly Headless Nick.

"Enjoying the party?" he asked, sounding exactly like Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh.

"Erm... yes, it's been lovely," Ron said, eying the door longingly.

"Good. Oh, it's time for my speech," The ghost hurried to the stage and tapped the microphone. "Attention, attention please?"

Just as every head turned his way, a hunting horn was sounded. It was similar to the Hunter's of Artemis' call, but this one had a hollow ring to it.

Nick grimaced and looked at the wall. A moment later, a large group of ghosts burst through on horseback, galloping through the room. Harry, Ron, Jason, and Percy began to clap like everyone else, but Hermione nudged them sharply and jabbed her elbow in the direction of the stage, where Nick looked like he had just swallowed a lemon.

They stopped abruptly.

"Can we please go now?" Ron complained as his stomach gave another massive growl. They slipped through the entrance, unnoticed by all the ghosts who were listening with rapt attention to what the headless ghost in the front had to say.

"Whew!" Jason exhaled and smiled when his breath no longer showed in front of him. "That was... interesting."

"Yeah, it was." They began to walk up the staircase to the Great Hall when Harry stopped suddenly, his face paling.

"The voice... There it is..."

"What voice?" Hermione was looking at Harry with concern.

"Don't you hear it?" Harry leaned forward, straining his ears to catch it. "It's getting fainter..."

He took off in a run.

"Harry! Wait!" They chased after him as he made a sharp turn and stopped quite suddenly.

Hermione and Ron caught up with them, out of breath, and stared at the scene in front of them.

"Oh no..."