Nexus (The Demigod Wizard) Part 2

The Hunt

"Harry, get the Essence of Dittany from my bag, quick!" Hermione ordered as she fell to her knees by the stranger.

Harry rummaged through Hermione's silver bag. He looked through it frustrated, and then gave up. "Oh bloody Accio Dittany!" He hissed, pointing his wand at the bag. The vial flew up and he caught it.

Harry ran over by Hermione's side and handed her the vial. She was hastily murmuring spells, trying to slow the bloodloss. As she treated Percy with shaking hands, Ron holding the guy down as his body trembled, Harry observed him.

He was taller now, maybe even taller than Ron. His shoulders were broader and his body stronger, more handsome. He had dark black hair so similar to his own, tanner skin, and a huge gaping wound in his side. A huge chunk of flesh was just...gone. Hermione had removed his shirt to treat the wound, and Harry saw that Percy's body was littered with even more scars. Thick and thin, long and short, old and many many new.

Hermione shakily poured a few drops of dittany on Percy's side. His body jerked in agony, even while unconscious, so Harry and Ron hurried to hold down his limbs. Hermione used her wand to siphon of some of the blood while the dittany took effect. The path of flesh began to regrow, forming a very tender-looking pink section surrounded by blood.

Hermione stood up and faced away from the demigod. She raised her bloodied hands, fear in her face as she began murmuring under her breath.

"What are you doing?" Ron asked frantically.

"Protection spells," she explained, voice shaking. "I don't think it is safe for us to go the Burrow or Grimmauld Place—not when the wards are down and Snape can get in. We have to camp here. Set up the tent, would you?"

Ron and Harry looked at each other. "Tent?" They asked in unison.

"In the bag!"

Ron summoned the tent and he and Harry quickly used their wands to set it up. He recognized it as the magical tent they had stayed in for the Quidditch World Cup. Once again, Harry marvelled at Hermione's planning. She seemed to have everything thought of.

Once the tent was ready, Harry and Ron carried Percy inside and laid him down on the lower bunk bed. He groaned in pain as they moved him but didn't wake.

Hermione came in a few minutes later, looking exhausted from casting so many spells. She closed the tent entrance behind her and headed straight to the bathroom to wash the blood off her hands.

Ron went to put a teapot on the stove—it was a Weasley habit to always make tea when something intense happened.

Harry looked back at the wounded demigod. His bronze sword, which had fallen from his grasp when he'd gotten splinched, was leaning against the dresser. But as Harry watched, it vanished before his eyes.

"Any idea where Percy came from?" Hermione asked, returning from the bathroom. A few strands of hair were plastered to her forehead from sweat.

Harry shook his head. "I haven't seen him since fifth year, you know that."

"I still can't believe he ditched you right after Sirius died."

"Ron!"

"What?"

"That's so insensitive!"

"Oh come on, don't tell me you still fancy the bloke."

"RON!"

"Why do you think he came back?" Harry asked, ignoring their argument.

Hermione looked at him helplessly. "I honestly don't know, Harry. He should have come immediately when you were in danger last year. I mean, didn't Bellatrix even mention that?"

Harry nodded. He remembered that clearly. That night, when Snape had killed Dumbledore...

He chased Snape down the hill, fury burning in his chest. "Expelliarmus!" He yelled. "Stupefy! Reducto! Sectumsempra!"

Snape whirled around at the last one. "You dare?" He seethed as Bellatrix cackled behind him. "You dare use his spells against me?"

"I--what?" Harry asked, stupefied.

"Perseus," Snape snarled. "The Half-Blood Prince. You think I didn't know you've been using his old potions recipes this year?"

Percy was the Half-Blood Prince? Harry realized it made sense. He was a demigod, a Half-Blood. And the son of Poseidon, the King of the Seas--a prince, in a way.

"Where is your cousin, Potter?" Bellatrix cackled as she lit Hagrid's house ablaze. "Why isn't your bodyguard here to protect you?"

Harry had no answer to that. He didn't know. He didn't even know if Percy would ever return, or if he was even alive. 

Suddenly, the demigod coughed and groaned. Harry was jerked out of the memory. They all turned to look at Percy as his eyes fluttered and then opened.

His eyes were a striking sea green—a more vibrant color than Harry had ever seen. He looked around, confused and worried. "Harry!" He yelled, looking around frantically and scrambling upward.

Harry quickly moved forward and pushed Percy back down so he didn't rip open his wound. "Hey, hey, I'm here."

But Percy only looked relieved for a second. He fixed his gaze on Harry, green eyes catching green. 

"I'm so, so sorry," Percy gasped, grabbing Harry's arm. "There is so much I need to tell you."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, you have a lot of explaining to do."

Percy nodded. "I do. But let me start by saying I never intended to be gone for so long. That was never the plan."

"I called you, like you said. But nothing happened."

"Right. There's a reason I didn't answer, why the call didn't go through. I promise," Percy insisted.

"And what is it?" Hermione demanded, looking pissed.

Percy sighed, leaning back against his pillows. "Well, it's quite simple, really. I was dead."