The Forgotten Olympian |BOOK 1| PJO X HP | Alexandra Marine

Chapter 176 - Percy - A Contingency Plan

Black shapes were emerging out of thin air all around us, blocking their way left and right; eyes glinted through slits in hoods, a dozen lit wand tips were pointing directly at their hearts; Ginny gave a gasp of horror.

"To me, Potter," repeated the drawling voice of Lucius Malfoy as he held out his hand, palm up.

We were trapped, and outnumbered two to one.

"To me," said Malfoy yet again.

"Where's Sirius?" Harry said.

Several of the Death Eaters laughed; a harsh female voice from the midst of the shadowy figures to Harry's left said triumphantly, "The Dark Lord always knows!"

"It's a trap," Annabeth said.

"Always," echoed Malfoy softly. "Now, give me the prophecy, Potter."

"I want to know where Sirius is!"

"I want to know where Sirius is!" mimicked the woman to his left.

She and her fellow Death Eaters had closed in so that they were mere feet away from us.

"You've got him," said Harry. "He's here. I know he is."

"Harry," Alex said softly. "It's trap."

"The little baby woke up fwightened and fort what it dweamed was twoo," said the woman in a horrible, mock baby voice. 

"Don't do anything," Harry muttered. "Not yet--"

The woman who had mimicked him let out a raucous scream of laughter.

"You hear him? You hear him? Giving instructions to the other children as though he thinks of fighting us!"

"Oh, you don't know Potter as I do, Bellatrix," said Malfoy softly. "He has a great weakness for heroics; the Dark Lord understands this about him. Now give me the prophecy, Potter."

"I know Sirius is here," said Harry. "I know you've got him!"

If there weren't twenty Death Eaters around us, I would've suggested Harry to a nice ear massage and then screamed in his ear- 'WE'RE IN A TRAP, YOU KNOBHEAD!'

More of the Death Eaters laughed, though the woman laughed loudest of all.

"It's time you learned the difference between life and dreams, Potter," said Malfoy. "Now give me the prophecy, or we start using wands."

"Go on, then," said Harry, raising his own wand to chest height. The rest of us followed, ready to strike.

But the Death Eaters did not strike.

"Hand over the prophecy and no one need get hurt," said Malfoy coolly.

It was Harry's turn to laugh.

"Yeah, right!" he said. "I give you this--prophecy, is it? And you'll just let us skip off home, will you?"

The words were hardly out of his mouth when the female Death Eater shrieked: "Accio proph --"

Harry was just ready for her: he shouted 'Protego' before she had finished her spell, and though the glass sphere slipped to the tips of his fingers he managed to cling on to it.

"Oh, he knows how to play, little bitty baby Potter," she said, her mad eyes staring through the slits in her hood. "Very well, then--"

"I TOLD YOU, NO!" Lucius Malfoy roared at the woman. "If you smash it--!"

The woman stepped forward, away from her fellows, and pulled off her hood. Azkaban had hollowed Bellatrix Lestrange's face, making it gaunt and skull-like, but it was alive with a feverish, fanatical glow.

"You need more persuasion?" she said, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "Very well--take the smallest one," she ordered the Death Eaters beside her. "Let him watch while we torture the little girl. I'll do it."

We closed in around Ginny.

"You'll have to smash this if you want to attack any of us," Harry told Bellatrix. "I don't think your boss will be too pleased if you come back without it, will he?"

She did not move; she merely stared at him, the tip of her tongue moistening her thin mouth.

"So," said Harry, "what kind of prophecy are we talking about, anyway?"

"What kind of prophecy?" repeated Bellatrix, the grin fading from her face. "You jest, Harry Potter."

"Nope, not jesting," said Harry, his eyes flicking from Death Eater to Death Eater, looking for a weak link, a space through which they could escape. "How come Voldemort wants it?"

Several of the Death Eaters let out low hisses.

"You dare speak his name?" whispered Bellatrix.

"Well," Alex shrugged. "It is his chosen name, right?"

"Yeah," said Harry, maintaining his tight grip on the glass ball. "Yeah, I've got no problem with saying Vol-"

"Shut your mouth!" Bellatrix shrieked. "You dare speak his name with your unworthy lips, you dare besmirch it with your half-blood's tongue, you dare--"

"Did you know he's a half-blood too?" said Harry recklessly. "Voldemort? Yeah, his mother was a witch but his dad was a Muggle--or has he been telling you lot he's pure-blood?"

"STUPEF--"

"NO!"

A jet of red light had shot from the end of Bellatrix Lestrange's wand, but Malfoy had deflected it; his spell caused hers to hit the shelf a foot to the left of Harry and several of the glass orbs there shattered.

Two figures, pearly-white as ghosts, fluid as smoke, unfurled themselves from the fragments of broken glass upon the floor and each began to speak; their voices vied with each other, so that only fragments of what they were saying could be heard over Malfoy and Bellatrix's shouts.

"...at the solstice will come a new..." said the figure of an old, bearded man.

"DO NOT ATTACK! WE NEED THE PROPHECY!"

"He dared--he dares--" shrieked Bellatrix incoherently, "he stands there--filthy half-blood --"

"WAIT UNTIL WE'VE GOT THE PROPHECY!" bawled Malfoy.

"...and none will come after..." said the figure of a young woman.

The two figures that had burst from the shattered spheres had melted into thin air. Nothing remained of them or their erstwhile homes but fragments of glass upon the floor. 

"You haven't told me what's so special about this prophecy I'm supposed to be handing over," he said, playing for time. 

"Do not play games with us, Potter," said Malfoy.

"I'm not playing games," said Harry. 

"What?" Hermione whispered.

"Dumbledore never told you the reason you bear that scar was hidden in the bowels of the Department of Mysteries?" Malfoy sneered.

"I--what?" said Harry. "What about my scar?"

"What?" whispered Hermione more urgently behind him.

"Can this be?" said Malfoy, sounding maliciously delighted; some of the Death Eaters were laughing again, and under cover of their laughter, Harry hissed to Hermione, moving his lips as little as possible, "Smash shelves--"

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