The Grandson Of Voldemort Is A What?

Chapter Two: Another Evil Grandpa?

The first week of August after the War and, finally, Percy could rest. No need to train, fight, teach, or do any other sort of Camp Half-blood related activity.

The campers had been rebuilding and improving everything for the last half of the Summer, everyone going home a little early to get ready for the school year and spend time with family. There still was a lot of healing to do, and they would still be healing for years to come, but . . . they were making progress.

Having Leo home finally, along with Calypso, was the first step to that healing.

So, there Percy lay, sprawled out on the living-room couch with Annabeth laying on his chest as his mother worked in the other room on her writing. Paul was also working, though in the dinning room, using the table to spread out his papers he was sorting through for the up-coming school year.

It was just a lazy sort of day, the movie on the TV just background noise as Percy played with Annabeth's hair with one hand. His other hand busy holding his girlfriend around her waist, thumb brushing against the blonde's hip between the hem of her shirt and the band of the sweats she wore.

Annabeth's grey eyes where closed, as she relaxed in her boyfriend's hold. She had been spending everyday here, basically had moved in if the two drawers she had taken over in Percy's dresser was any thing to go by. Sally had never said a word against this, especially when she sometimes caught Percy's eyes zoning out and going glassy. Whenever that happened, Annabeth was right there, holding his face in her hands and muttering in his ear. Whenever Annabeth's eyes took on that hazy look, Percy wrapped her in his arms, ushered her to sit down in his lap, then he started to speak to her in hushed tones. Reassuring her of where and when they were.

It would be so sweet if it wasn't just so heartbreaking to see.

Percy didn't speak as he brushed his hand through blonde curls, just taking in the moment of peace and comfort.

Then the doorbell rang.

Both teens tensed, sitting up slightly to peer over the couch, to the front door, as Paul walked out of the dinning room and made his way to greet whoever it was. Percy gripped Riptide in the pocket of the sweats he wore, Annabeth's hand on his wrist to try and calm him even if she was itching to grab her Yankee's cap from the coffee table.

"Hello?" Paul asked as he opened the door after looking through the peep-hole. "Can I help you?"

"Is this Sally Jackson's residence?" Answered a higher-sounding male voice, wispy and misty in a way that had too many thoughts going through Percy's head as he tightened his grip on Annabeth's waist. His girlfriend sat perched in his lap, ready to duck, run, and grab the dagger she had kept in his room.

"She goes by Blofis now, but yes. What do you want with her?" By now Sally had come out too, a grey robe wrapped around her pajamas, peeking around the corner to see the door.

"We have need to talk with her and her son Perseus." The man still wasn't being all that clear. Percy got up, moving Annabeth off his lap and striding for the door. No one was entering their apartment without him checking them over.

Percy placed a hand on Paul's shoulder, the older man nodding before stepping back to let Percy fill the gap of the opened door. Percy was taller than Paul, had broader shoulders, and was a hell of a lot more fit. And it was evident by the way he wasn't wearing a shirt, just a hoodie that wasn't zipped up.

"Who are you? How do you know those names?" He didn't want to be rude, but taking in the weird-ass clothing the group of three men where wearing and the way they knew his name was putting him on edge. He wasn't taking any risks with his family. Not now, not ever.