Voldemort's Heir: A Percy Jackson and Harry Potter Crossover (Percy Jackson Fanfic)

Chapter 8: Old Habits Die Hard

Harry POV

Was it normal to feel utter disappointment when you found out that your nemesis was plotting something evil?  Harry supposed he had never felt it before.  But he couldn't shake the feeling that Percy wasn't a bad guy, no matter how hard that would be to say out loud. 

Harry stared in confusion at Percy's door.  Besides the shock about actually finding something bad about the mysterious teenage couple, Harry had no idea what they had been talking about. The more he thought about it, he recalled the word "hellhound" being used multiple times in their conversation, and thought that it was a familiar term from Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry sighed in defeat and shook his head quietly. No matter how much he may have angered his friends a few hours ago, he would need their help to make sure they stayed safe.

Getting up quietly and slowly peeling the expendable ear off the door, Harry padded through the hallway and into Ron and his room, where Fred, George, Ginny, Hermione, and Ron were gathered in a circle in the middle of the floor. They seemed to have been talking about something, but had cut off abruptly when Harry entered the room. It didn't take a genius to know they had been talking about him.

"Hi, Harry," Ginny said tentatively. She rose up from her seat, smoothing down her shirt as she did so. "Look, I'm sorry about the way we've acted. We obviously don't have the right to judge the way you took the news about You-Know-Who's heir; he never murdered our family like he did you."

Ron and Hermione stood up too, looking awkward.  "We're sorry."

Harry grinned and waved them off, joining their makeshift circle.  " 'S fine.  I guess I wanna apologize too."

George groaned.  "Enough with the mush."  Fred nodded, flopping down on the floor.  "Get to the chase."

Harry stiffened, glancing around to make sure that the door was efficiently locked and secure.  "Right," he started, whispering.  "I learned loads, and hardly any of them seem like good things."

__________

"Wait," Hermione said, breaking the silence that had followed the end of Harry's explanation. "You're sure you didn't leave anything out?"

Harry went through what he had heard again in his mind, racking his brain for any forgotten details. "I mean, they were talking about hellhounds," he said, ticking that off his fingers as he reviewed the details of the American's mysterious conversations. "And demigods, who seem to be some sort of group of people, and, um, a guy who's name starts with a "C", I think? Maybe a "K"? Whoever he or she is, they made it seem like he was the head of a group of people, and they were supposed to report back to him." Harry shook his head in defeat. "If only I hadn't forgotten his name."

The twins leaned in conspiratorially, two identical mischievous smirks adorning their faces. "If you feel the need for answers, we just made a new batch of dung bombs. We could, uh, persuade them to tell us who they're working for with those things."

Hermione smacked them on the arm, and even though there was a two year difference, and not to mention a huge difference in height, the glare she sent their way was enough to make them gulp down their blackmail ideas. "We are absolutely not going to resort to blackmail to gain information." She stated sharply, still glaring at the twins.  "Understood?"

George winced. "Yes ma'am." Scooting farther away from the bushy haired girl, Harry swore he heard Fred mutter under his breath, "That girl scares me more than mum when she's in a huge fit."

Satisfied, Hermione turned back to the others in the group, frowning slightly. "Something's bothering me about the term "demigods". I think I read it in an ancient mythology book somewhere." She rose up out of her seat. "I'm going to go do some research. Please, try to act like you never even overheard the conversation in the first place."