Percy Jackson and Harry Potter crossover

A Turn for the Worst

Percy was panicking, and his heart felt as if was going to explode in his chest in a matter of minutes.

What a pathetic death. Percy Jackson, defeater of countless monsters and approacher of Death, dies because an old, wise wizard left Hogwarts and now his identity is pretty much screwed.

The first thing that he had done upon receiving the news of Dumbledore's exit was contact Annabeth. And rant. And babble. And pound his chest in slight alarm.

As far as he knew, Dumbledore was the only one who understood his situation. And created great cover stories. And served as a pacifying presence, even though Percy never really interacted with him a lot.

And now he was gone.

Somewhere.

And the crap of a teacher, Umbridge, was in his place.

Umbridge.

Umbridge.

Annabeth had offered her condolence, and then proceeded to threaten him. Profusely. In the end, the conversation was a little too blunt and a little too unhelpful.

He practically walked through the halls of Hogwarts like a zombie, and barely registered where his feet was taking him. More than once, he had pounded his head in distress completely out of the blue and had gotten more weird looks than he could care to count.

"Harry," he whispered. "Harry, we're screwed."

Wait. He was sent here to protect the boy. Not to lower his confidence. 

Hastily, he blurted, "Nope. Just kidding. We're gonna be fine. Fine! When's the next Deeeeeeal! Deal. Yeah. Deal. For . . . your date. Deal. With Cho. About getting her flowers." He squirmed in his seat at his shoddy cover-up, ignoring the witch who walked past with a raised eyebrow and Harry's less than amused expression.

"That was--"

"I know. Sorry. Are . . . are we still doing it?" he mumbled, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. Harry, if plausible, looked even more stressed, and Percy mentally cursed at himself. He knew how pressured he must feel at the moment, and it kind of made him feel guilty for whining over something as trifle as his identity.

Seriously. Hecate might hate him forever for blasting the whole gods ordeal to wizards and witches and scary owls, but wasn't putting Harry precedence over everything else most salient? And even if that hadn't been the motive of the quest, which Percy was pretty sure it had been, it was going to be now, screw prophecies and whatnot.

"I dunno," Harry whispered back, equally quiet. 

Percy glanced behind him at Hermione, who was curled in the couch with a humongous book, eyes shifting across the same line over and over again. Ron, who was sprawled over the couch like some kind of overgrown caterpillar, clenched and unclenched his fists, creases between his eyebrows.

And Percy understood. He had been in their situation before. Definitely not the same, but similar.

He understood that kind of stress and the load that seemed to press down like some kind of portable sky. (That thought brought up scarring images of Atlas promoting the sky like some kind of shampoo commercial.)

Right now, they were trying to keep their minds off of it. Or, forcing themselves to. Percy didn't think it was healthy with how much they were discussing what they were to do and all that, and he supposed he was being a complete hypocrite asking for more information when he had been the one to shush all of them.

But, in his defense, their discourse was not helping. Anyone. At all. And he was distracted easily, and sitting through a period doing nothing ticked at his nerves like some pocket god that kept on whispering wrong advice into his ear.

So, gathering all the confidence and courage in his body, Percy announced, quite simply, "Harry." he stared at said boy with all the seriousness in the world. "I believe in you." (and then felt really cheesy afterwards.)

Harry stared at him, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. "Thanks, Percy. I appreciate it, but maybe not now? The stupid Inquisitorial Squad is squawking all over the place, stupid Umbridge's dictating the school, stupid Snape hates me even more--I dunno if I should be happy about the canceled Occlumency, but Hermione's glaring almost makes it worse--"

"Harry, I'm just trying to--"

"Hagrid's acting odd, Cho's not talking to me, and my dad was--" he paused then, a hitch in his voice, and although Percy's never seen Harry cry before, he seemed to be very close to it now.

There was silence for awhile, nothing but Hermione's shifting of the pages and the crackling of the fire. A very uncomfortable pause tugged at the occupants, and Percy slowly uncrossed his legs, shaking them out, not knowing what to say. He settles for a quiet 'oh', sympathizing with Harry more than he would know.

Ron glances at his friend, then at Percy, mouth half-opened and eyes wide with alarm. Percy clears his throat.

"Well, that was a load of negativity you just dumped on us."

Harry's eyes flare, like the color the fire turned with the Floo powder. "I--"

"I get it, Harry. You're stressed. I think we're  all a bit stressed. But how was your talk with Sirius?"

The boy gritted his teeth, expression falling to something unidentifiable. Then, he releases a breath, stiff shoulders relaxing. "Fine. It was fine. He cleared something up for me."

Percy smiled. "Good. That's good." he stretched out then, popping his joints, putting on an air of nonchalant relaxation. He was good at this, he remarked. Good at putting on the face that the crowd wanted to see. "Has anyone heard about Firenze? He was a good teacher. I would hate to see him gone."

This time, Hermione spoke up, nose scrunched up. "Honestly, he would find anything better than teaching Divination. But I think Umbridge's too scared to fire him." her last sentence was spoken with almost a triumphant crow.

Harry let out a weak laugh, but to Percy, it was good enough. He cared about the boy as much as he cared about his friends at Camp. 

And speaking about Camp . . .

Percy smirked suddenly, feeling a spark of excitement. "If you would excuse me." he cackled, crawling away from the group. "I have something to do."

Before he exited, he heard Ron mutter, "He has that look again" and for a resounding slap to sound (it sounded much like the contact a book made with Ron's head. Specifically Ron's.)

For a while, Percy trudged the school, running his hand along the walls and skirting around less-than-welcomed people (he almost had a collision with Draco, thank gods he didn't), until he finally found his targets, crouched behind a statue.

"Hey,"

The two red-heads jumped, then turned with twin looks of innocence.

"Why, hello, better Percy."

"What brings you here to our lovely presences?"

And he smiled evilly. "I think you'll like what I have planned," he told Fred and George.

SO SUMMER VACATION'S FINALLY HERE. WHOO. It doesn't feel like the end of the school year . . . highschool is just around the corner. Lemme sob for a while. I have nothing to do with my life now . . . except read. And I AM DETERMINED TO FINISH THIS. So it may be crappy but . . . I tried, right? Again, I apologize for grammar mistakes and all that crap and THANK YOU TO ALL DA PEEPS WHO CONTINUE READING MY SHODDY CRAP and so yeah all that and more, byyyyeee. For now. Hopefully.