The Grandson Of Voldemort Is A What?

Questioned

The day after Percy had his nightmare, he heard about what had happened. 

He understood then, what his dream was. Harry, Percy thought, was one very unlucky boy. 

His school day passed normally, but there was an air of tension. No one knew exactly why they all were so on edge after what happened, it didn't affect their lives. But if Harry Potter left Hogwarts early . . . Something wasn't right.  

Percy's run in with McGonagall flashed through his head all day. He had been so panicked, not thinking. It had been a while since he'd been like that. And he hated it, hated that feeling of not having control of his body because of fear. 

With the glances he was getting in Transfiguration class, he knew she hadn't forgotten. 

So he wasn't too surprised when he got a summons at dinner. Following the instructions to the Headmaster's office. "Pumpkin Pasty." He said, and started up the stairs that appeared. Winding up and up, until opening into a office full of books and shelves, different wizarding things and painting on the walls. 

"Ah, young Percy." Said the old man in robes and a hat behind the huge wooden desk. Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts. "Take a seat." Percy let himself drop into the chair in front of the desk, scanning everything around him. "I'm sure you know some of what happened last night." 

"I know that Harry had a dream, and that he, the Weasleys, and Hermione are gone." Percy said, resting his head on his fist and blinking slowly. 

"Wise boy, saying what you know is fact and ignoring rumors." His blue eyes sparkled, but Percy still didn't trust that sparkle. It wasn't warm. It was calculating, cunning. The light of a man who knew just how powerful he was. 

He knew too many people with the spark to let his guard down. 

Dumbledore chuckled, folding his hands in front of his face. "Another wise choice, to let me explain, not interrupting and letting me find a chance to change the subject." Those eyes seemed to peer into Percy, trying to read him like some sort of poetry filled with old words and weird patterns. "I wonder, who taught you these things?" 

"I taught myself." And he had. Chiron could only train him so much. Percy had to find something out for himself. 

"Well then." Dumbledore dropped the subject, though he looked like he didn't particularly want to. "To the matter of your dream." 

"As I told McGonagall, I saw harry over a man slumped down the wall, Harry's eyes were snake like. He had a forked tongue and spoke in hissing noises." He waved his hand as if to dismiss it. "It's not unusual for me to have strange dreams. This one just rattled me. And ended up true, which is even weirder." He made his eyes widen, let his tone be creeped out and confused. Not letting Dumbledore know that he often had dreams that came true, not giving the old man room to start asking questions. 

For in this realm, he was the grandson of the most evil wizard of their time. 

He wasn't giving them an inch to doubt him, espically their leader. He already had Harry on his back, he didn't need anyone else. 

"I supose."  Dumbledore drawled, looking off to the distance. Percy fought the urge to look at whatever it was he found so interesting, but didn't give in. He couldn't look too interested.  "I've been wondering, what did the hat tell you while you were being sorted?" 

The question startled him, but Percy only showed cunfusion. "Isn't that a really personal question?" He let himself run his hand through his hair, faining uncomforableness and embarrased silence. 

"It is. Will you answer it?" 

"You tell me what the Hat told you first." It was the kind of response any teen woud have given, not suspicious. Though he kept the edge from his voice he wanted to use, to turn it from an teen tantrum to an interrogation. 

Dumbledore chuckled again. "Fair enough." But he didn't go on. 

"Can i go now? I have some work to finish before break." Percy rose to leave. Dumbledore dissmissed him, and he left. Not breaking his cunfused look if not slightly annoyed, until he was in his doorm. No paintings in here. 

His face morphed into the calulating look of the leader of Camp Half-Blood. Percy pet Bo, who was curled up on his blanket. Soon he'd be home for two weeks, plently of time to talk over all of this with Annabeth.  At least he hoped so. 

When he walked back into the common rooms, Poppy was bouncing off the walls. 

"Percy!" An seventh year cried out, rushing over. "Poppy is everywhere! And wont calm down. Help!" The guy had red hair and hazel eyes, skinny in a way that made it look like he'd fall over if a breeze came along. 

"I've got it." Percy chuckled. The Hufflepuffs watched as Percy scooped Poppy up from running around. "Whoa there, badger." His chuckle got a giggle from the first year. She flung her arms around his neck and leaned back from him to see his face. 

"Percy, it's so close to Winter break." She squealed. Poppy was very tiny, even for her age, and some saw her as childish, but Percy just saw her as innocent and full of life. Something that he would protect with his life. "I got you the great stuff too!" Her big eyes were warm and sparkling in a way unlike Dumbledore's, hers were in wonder and amazement. His were in cold amusement. 

Percy sat the girl down on the couch, sitting beside her with his arm around the back of the cushions. 

"I can't wait." He teased, smirking. Poppy giggled again. "But until we get out, you have to calm down a little." He whispered, like it was the greatest secret in the world. "Because though Hufflepuffs are kind, they are also very restless. Seeing someone running around kind of puts them on edge." He winked and ruffled the girl's hair. 

Poppy giggled again and snuggled into Percy's chest, he brought his arm down to wrap around her. 

"Happy Christmas Percy." 

"Merry Christmas Poppy."