HP and PJ crossover

St. Mungo's

Harry

Percy had saved me from explaining to the Weasleys exactly what his vision was, which was a huge relief. When I asked Percy if he knew anything about the dream (whether it be how I managed to see it or why), he claimed he didn't know anything. Not only was the Order hiding things, but now Percy as well.

At first, I thought I was the weapon, but all of my friends - including Percy - had assured him when they were back at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place that, no, I was most definitely not the weapon.

Now we were back at St. Mungo's, wandering the corridors to find tea.

"I wonder where the tearoom is?" said Hermione.

"Fifth floor," I said, remembering the sign over the Welcome Witch's desk. I glanced at Percy, who had been the only one who had looked at he sign, too. "Right?"

"Huh?" he asked. "I couldn't read the sign. I was kind of nervous about the whole hospital - or Healer - place, so my dyslexia got pretty bad."

It was then I remembered that he had told us about how his dyslexia got even worse when he was frustrated or nervous. "What floor's this?" I asked, trying to steer the conversation away from him.

"I think it's the fifth," said Hermione.

"Nah, it's the fourth," I said, "one more - "

But then I was stopped by a man who was peering out at us with his nose pressed against the glass.

"Blimey!" said Ron.

"Oh my goodness," said Hermione suddenly. "Professor Lockhart!"

Percy made a sound that strongly resembled a goose in his moment of confusion.

"Well, hello there!" he said. "I expect you'd like my autograph, would you?"

"Er - now, what?" said Percy.

"Professor," I said, "shouldn't you be in a ward?"

Lockhart's smile slid off his face. "Haven't we met?" he asked after he had stared at me for a few moments.

"You used to teach us at Hogwarts, remember?"

His smile reappeared upon his face so suddenly it was rather alarming. "Taught you everything you know, I expect, did I? How about those autographs, then?"

Then a motherly looking Healer wearing a tinsel wreath in her hair came and ushered us all into a locked ward.

Then Ron had to spot Neville and his parents, forcing him to tell our little group about what happened to them.

"Well, we'd better get back," sighed Mrs. Longbottom, drawing on long green gloves. "Very nice to have met you all. Neville, put that wrapper in the bin, she must have given you enough of them to paper your bedroom by now..."

The door closed behind them.

"I never knew," said Hermione, who looked tearful.

"Nor did I," said Ron rather hoarsely.

"Not me," whispered Ginny.

They all looked at me and Percy.

"I did," I said.

I glanced at Percy. "I did, too," he admitted.

"How?"

"Dumbledore told me."

Dumbledore told him everything, but not me. I couldn't help but think, despite everyone's reassurance, I was the weapon.

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Okay! I'm so so so so so so so so so so so so so so sorry I didn't update sooner! I have no excuse as to why I haven't.

I decided I would updated Percy's Mortal Friends and update this story all in one night.