Percabeth Teach at Hogwarts

Chapter Eight

Draco

Draco hadn't been sure if the chilling sensation he felt crawl down his spine was correct when it overcame him. He hadn't felt that feeling in years and years, and he wasn't exactly sure how it's meaning could be happening at Hogwarts.

The chills meant monsters, and no monster had ever set foot inside Hogwarts in all the years he had been there, and neither had his scent ever been strong enough to attract them. So, he figured it had to be a mistake, just a trick of his mind and the overactive mind that plagued him since the end of the war. Even so, he had made quick work of finding Percy and Annabeth, and had not been comforted at the reactions of them that he beheld. It had been true. A monster had breached the wards, which put all of them, and many others, in danger.

Now, the three raced towards the spot in which they had first heard the scream that rent the air like lightning crackling in the night sky. Breathlessly, Draco kept pace with his sister and Percy, his knife fitting into his hand just as well as he remembered; the memory of the calluses that had formed again and again on his hands floated around his head; his heart thundered in time with his steps on the marble floors below him as the three exploded into the hall of Gryffindor tower.

What they beheld was not a comforting sight.

The lack of activity unsettled Draco; he looked on at the empty hall, his stomach in his throat as his eyes pinned on a shredded tapestry, a cracked tile, and a bloodstained handprint on the wall.

"No," Percy murmured, his face paling. "Where are they?"

The three fell silent as they strained to listen for the tell tale signs of a struggle, but silence echoed all around them, louder yet than the previous screams.

"We should split up," Draco said quietly, scared to alert anyone else to the situation at hand. "I can't believe no one else heard the scream or the commotion. It's like it didn't even happen except for the evidence on the walls and floor. All of the Gryffindor students are – "

"No," Annabeth said, horror coloring her voice. "They aren't in there. They're all at lunch still. We always eat in our Common Room so I forgot. There shouldn't have been anyone in the halls."

"Bloody Hell," Draco moaned. "This is so bad."

Percy and Annabeth locked eyes and did their no-talking-communicating-with-their-minds thing that Draco could not read at all. He raised a blonde eyebrow at them in question.

"First is all, if this situation was not dire, I would be making fun of that British slang so much," Percy said offhandedly, as he flipped his sword in his hand. "But there is no time for that. So, instead, I'll interject a quick 'wow' and move on. Next, I don't think we should split up. This Minotaur is one nasty monster; it'd be better if we work together."

"Fine," Draco huffed, annoyed by the needling, but also secretly loving it. "And if you say anything more about my developed accent, or Britishisms, I may impale you with my knife. So tread carefully."

The three set off in the direction of the signs of struggle, bickering quietly so they could still hear any signs of a fight. "You didn't just develop some British slang here, you developed a mean streak too, Draco!" Percy persisted, wrinkling his nose in disbelief. "I thought your sister was the meanest person I knew, but you sure are rivaling her."

Draco imagined that Percy regretted those words as soon as they left his mouth, as he very quickly had two children of Athena smacking him. Percy shrank into himself, retracting to a shorter height as he winced. "That comment was in poor taste considering my audience, I will admit," he declared, "but every other cabin would have thought it was hilarious."