The Boy That Spoke Snake

Percy Potter (Chapter 1)

Percy Potter (Chapter 1)

Hey everyone. I'm here because I am. Iiesuu is currently checking over more stuff with Gh0stwr1t3r , (great writer btw) and is editing stuff. Yay. We're going to have more great chapters! Wait, did I say more? I mean some! Please go check out Gh0stwr1t3r and Gh0stwr1t3r2 . We do not own Harry Potter, J.K.Rowling does. And we do not own Percy Jackson, Annabeth and Rick Riordan do. Cyall! 

Percy POV:

Tick...Tock... Tick... Tock...

My name is Percy Jackson. My friends call me Percy Potter. Assholes call me Perseus. It doesn't really matter what you call me, because I have come to not really care about the opinions of total strangers.

Tick...Tock... Tick... Tock...

Now, I know, you all want an in-depth discussion about my time at Hogwarts, with every nerve-wracking detail about how much trouble I caused there(not much by the way. I was known as a model student somehow), accompanied by my brother, Harry. I also know you want a grossly detailed recap of my battle against my evil Grandfather.

Tick... Tock... Tick...Tock...

And since you are all such adoring fans, I am inclined to tell you everything, up to the last detail.

Tick... Tock... Tick...

My name is Percy Jackson. My friends call me Percy Potter. Assholes call me Perseus. I am a demigod, and I am also a wizard. This is my story.

Dong! Dong!

The clock chimed, indicating to me that my break was over and that I had to get back to cleaning.

I took hold of the duster handle once more, willing myself to keep from sighing loudly, and continued. Dusting of the shelves and the other useless decorations that my uncle and aunt insisted on putting up.

After that, I lumbered toward the closet, which was once Harry's room, and was now used to store the cleaning products. I grabbed the broom, but as soon as I closed the door, I almost jumped three feet into the air.

Uncle Vernon (dubbed Piggleston Sr. by yours truly) stood there, scowl on his face, whip in hand. I knew what was coming.

Uncle Vernon was, by far, the meanest person I had ever met, and he was the main reason I took on the challenge of learning how to fight. The only reason I didn't fight back, was because If I did, I would be kicked out and Harry would be left at their mercy. I couldn't do that to him. He was my responsibility.

All the while, Piggleston Sr.'s mouth was moving, but my mind had run off with me, and I hadn't heard anything. By the time he figured out that I wasn't listening, his face turned red like a radish and his knuckles turned white as he tightened his fingers around the whip.

"Have you been paying attention to anything that I've been saying, boy?" He snarled.

My eyes widened. I nodded frantically, but Piggleston Sr.'s scowl deepened. He raised his hand and hit me three times, leaving three long, burning gashes on my side and on my arm. I yelped, but I managed to refrain from screaming. If Harry heard, he would come rushing in, and Piggleston Sr would hit him too.

The pain was something horrendous. It was raw and unforgiving. The gashes were deep and wide and white, and only spots of red blossomed through tiny openings inside. It burned like a sizzling fire, and I doubled over in sheer agony.

"Good boy," He said, smirking in satisfaction. "No noises, no punishment. If you make noise, I'll go to Harry next, and we definitely don't want that, do we, boy?"

I shook my head, choking back tears.

"Good boy," he repeated. Uncle Vernon turned and walked out, muttering something along the lines of, "That boy better grow up and leave the house soon, otherwise it will never be clean."

I stood beside the closet, clutching my side with my injured arm, and my injured arm with my uninjured arm. My entire body was shaking, and it felt like I had forgotten how to move.

Finally, after what seemed like ten minutes, I managed to take my shirt off, careful not to tear it any further, and left it on the floor next to the closet. I would pick it up later. I grabbed the broom and clumsily walked into the kitchen. Aunt Petunia was there, and she gasped when she saw me.

"Percy," she cried. "What happened?"

I chose not to respond.

Aunt Petunia was much better than Piggleston, but she didn't know how to stand up to him. When Piggleston insisted upon not letting me and Harry have dinner, Aunt Petunia would sneak us a plate of sandwiches, or if Piggleston had been particularly abusive, she would come in after dark and clean our wounds and make sure that we were alright.

Black dots danced before my eyes. I lost my balance and grabbed hold of the tablecloth, but it wasn't enough to keep my weight. Aunt Petunia rushed forward and caught me. The last thing I heard before I lost consciousness was her frantic yell.

"Vernon! Hospital! Now!"

Total words: 866 words