As Strong As We Are United

Chapter Seventeen

Disclaimer: We do not own the characters or concepts from Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, or MARVEL. Those rights go to JK Rowling, Rick Riordan, and MARVEL Studios respectively.

AN: This story is co-written by dearemmahansen (though the pen name has probably changed five times by now). Read, vote, and comment! Thank you to the people who have commented and voted already - you help me write more and faster! I've ran out of chapters that I've already written, so updates will come a bit slower from now on (about once a week to once every two weeks). Sorry for the extremely long wait for this chapter!

Chapter Seventeen (Part One)

by shadowphoenix5

Percy staggered backwards, gasping for air, as the three landed in a small room filled with bottles with stuff in them (potions?). His vision spun around him as he attempted not to fall down. What in the world had Harry done?

Percy bumped into a wall. He grabbed the corner, using it to keep himself upright. One, two, three, breathe in, four, five, six, breathe out -

And then his focus came rushing back.

Harry, apparently, hadn't been affected by the jump. He had grabbed some bottles full of a dull red potion and were shoving them down Annabeth's (who was lying on a table) throat. Once he'd emptied two and a half bottles, he waved his stick-thing. A glowing ball of light appeared where Annabeth had gotten shot. It was a light red, at first, but it quickly turned to a whitish yellowish color.

Harry's posture immediately relaxed.

Harry turned to Percy.

"She's going to be okay."

It took all of Percy's will to not hug the restaurant owner right then and there.

Annabeth was going to be okay. The words rebounded in Percy's head as he stared at his girlfriend. She looked a bit pale, but otherwise, she looked fine. Annabeth was going to be okay.

Percy was so focused on Wise Girl that he almost didn't notice Harry leaving the room, opening a dark wooden door on the side and telling him that he'd be right back.

Annabeth was going to be okay.

---

Harry rushed downstairs. Doors - locked. Windows - with the blinds down. Every single ward he could possibly think of, and then three more - cast.

No one was coming in - or out - of his restaurant until he said so.

Harry slid into his bar, opening the cupboard on the bottom left. Inside was a bottle of his special type of firewhiskey - perfect for getting himself ready for the stunt he was about to pull.

Harry poured himself a large glass. He picked it up, watching the drink swirl around as he moved his hand back and forth in a circular motion.

He had to tell her. If he didn't, and she heard it from someone else -

He was a dead man.

Well, a twice dead man. She'd most likely decided to kill him once for his actions and another time for not telling her.

Harry knocked back the drink, waiting until he could feel the burning in his throat to slam the glass back on the table.

Harry opened his mouth and a burst of fire came out. He let himself endure the pain, the burning, for a few seconds longer - and then the flame died out.

It was high time to stop procrastinating and to be a Gryffindor.

Harry rummaged through the cupboard again, feeling the side of the wall until his finger caught the edge of the secret panel. He popped it open and reached inside, his arm at an odd angle. His hand felt cold and he grabbed the mirror.