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Percy couldn't help but feel a little bit apprehensive as he stood, trolly in hand, a the wall between platforms 9 and 10. To say his life was crazy was the understatement of the era, but running straight at a stubbornly solid looking wall was a step too far in his book. He gulped a little bit, trying to ignore all the eyes that seemed to be boring into his skull. Perhaps he'd feel a little more assured if it hadn't been Ron of all people who'd been giving the instructions. Even if they had made the most miniscule bit of progress in the trying-not-to-kill-eachother department, he still didn't fully trust the guy, and knew the satisfaction Ron would gain from what a fool he'd look after running straight at a BRICK WALL. How and ever, the ticket clearly said platform 9 and 3/4, and with none matching the description in visible sight one was forced to expect the unexpected. Oh well, Percy thought to himself, stepping back slightly, the worst that can happen is a concussion, and you've survived that many times before. He charged at the barrier, screwing his eyes tightly shut and bracing himself for impact.
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FanfictionWhat if when our beloved hero Percy Jackson flees camp after being betrayed by the love of his life, he discovers that even his mother's family hides unknown secrets. With the discovery that Percy is actually the grandson of the infamous Voldemort...