Chapter Text
Apollo huffed loudly, still in his uncle's grand hallway.
As the god of art, Apollo had always found Atlantis' wall paintings marvelous. And in every visit of his, he made sure to check for any new tales told through the beautiful paintings on the walls.
Not today.
Apollo could only stare at the empty space that was occupied, not a minute ago, by a certain Perseus Jackson.
It took his entire self control to not start boiling the water from absolute rage, now that Percy wasn't here and couldn't see him.
How dare a little insignificant mortal think himself important enough to even approach Percy! The mythological world's newest symbol!
Let alone befriend him!
It sounded ridiculous to Apollo. If Percy hadn't told it to him himself, he would be laughing hard, claiming it to be the funniest joke he heard in a millennia.
But alas, it was not just an exaggerated joke.
And Apollo hated it.
He hated how much control the mortals held over Olympus's greatest hero. He hated how it made Olympus look, having the same ally as the wizards. And most of all, he despised how casually Percy declined his offer to come with him, and chose to go to visit the little shit with a wand.
When Percy asked Apollo to flash him to where his little useless friend was, Apollo's supposed heart cracked. Just a little. But it still hurt.
He would never admit it out loud, but he felt fear at that moment. For less than a second, he feared that Percy had a certain... interest... in the boy he asked to see.
But no. That was not what was happening. What did the revolting thing have that Apollo didn't! It was like comparing an ant to a very handsome and charming man.
But the moment of panic passed as quick as it came. They were friends. Which is better than the other option, but it still wasn't ideal!
For the love of Chaos! How! how did it get so bad!
Apollo continued to stare at the empty hallway, mind wandering with possibilities and (not so well hidden) rage. He already had a handful of achievable plots. All of which ended with the one shitty little magic person dead or the entire wizarding world wiped.
Screw Hecate. She can find different things to entertain herself with.
But after a while of standing in place with a mind that raced with malicious plots, he heard other voices coming from around the corner of the hallway.
A few seconds later, a very annoying sea god rounded the corner. His features were scrunched in annoyance as he swam with purpose down the hallway.
At first Triton hadn't seen him, too occupied in his own malicious plots. But when he did, his expression changed from deeply annoyed to enraged.
Triton's eyes fixed on him with a glint of venom, like a predator measuring prey.
But Apollo was not afraid of Triton.
Never had been, and never will be.
Apollo was much more ancient than the heir of the sea. He was the sun in the sky, the aim of the bow, the songs of the poets. He was everywhere in the whole wide world.
Unlike Triton, whose only realm lay in the sea. And not like Triton's father who was the sea. This certain sea prince was only the waves of the surface, the tides hitting the shore. And next to Apollo, the Olympian god, that wasn't a lot.
Triton might be the most 'princely' of them, and he might have changed the least during all of these millennia. But Apollo was not less murderous and not less powerful than he had been in the times of Ancient Greece.
He just hid it better. For the sake of change.
"Apollo" he drawled "where is he"
His tone was quiet, but not calm or collected like it usually was.
Triton was absolutely livid.
In that moment Apollo really really wanted to lie and say that he doesn't know where Triton's brother ran off to (being the god of truth doesn't restrict him from lying). But... what would he gain from lying except pissing the jerk off?
When he looked upon Triton's fuming face, he realized that he could find an ally in Triton. As much as Apollo despised the protective nature of the sea when it came to Percy, he couldn't deny its use in that moment.
Surely Triton wasn't very happy with his little brother's newest friend, and would do anything to end this absurd connection.
And that was a common goal between the two of them.
With that thought in mind, Apollo smiled sharply at him "Peace, Triton" his smile widened slightly "I am not your enemy in here"
Triton's face turned confused, anger momentarily forgotten. But before Triton could start questioning the sun god, Apollo spoke again.
"Percy is running to meet his little wizard friend" he said with disdain.
"Ahhh" Triton groaned very unprincely. "He ran off to visit this thing? Again!? "
Apollo wisely chose not to mention that he was the one transporting Percy to England. And to his relief, Triton seemed too distracted to question Apollo about where he got the information from.
And just to get Triton's trust (for maybe future visits he planned to do for Percy) Apollo told him "I can spy on that magic mortal and Percy's interaction if you'd like"
Triton, once again, centered his gaze on Apollo, trying to measure how sincere his offer was. Or maybe what Apollo would like in return.
And after a long moment that seemed to stretch far too long to Apollo's (not so humble) opinion, Triton nodded once. Sharply and plainly, his face returning to the princely mask Apollo was familiar with.
Apollo smiled charmingly.
He might just be able to fix it all.
Percy was mildly confused.
When Apollo said he's going to flash him to meet Harry, he thought he was going... you know... to see Harry.
But all he saw was a very dark street.
And its architecture was very depressing.
It was chilly that evening, but luckily Percy was still wearing his 'teenage angst' clothes that included a nice warm hoodie.
But, he still was in a... a very gloomy looking street.
Yeah.. no... that's not what he signed up for.
He was never going to let Apollo transport him anywhere again...
Percy looked around himself, at the empty street that was only barely seen in the darkness. The only reason Percy was able to even see something was thanks to the half broken street lamps that only produced very little light.
Admittedly, the whole place gave him the chills. The only thing that was needed for perfecting the feeling was a few ghosts roaming around, scaring people that dared to cross their street.
Maybe he should ask Nico about the ghost thing... it could be fun to watch...
After Percy squinted his eyes, trying to see anything that might be helpful in the distance of the shadowy street and found absolutely nothing, he gave up.
Percy plummeted to the (probably dirty) floor.
He had no idea where he was, and no idea what to do next. Harry was not there, and he had no way to contact anyone who might be able to help him.
Shit....
He hadn't planned this far. He was sure he was going to get caught the second he met Apollo...
He lay on the street floor, arms and legs spread in a star shape.
That's it. I'm giving up.
Percy was laying on the floor for what felt like hours, but could also be minutes. Percy really didn't know.
At some point he found himself starting to hum Wii music... and he just continued...
So Percy lay there, star shaped, humming Wii music and tapping his fingers on the dirty crossroads for a while.
And honestly, he felt kind of content.
He felt strangely at peace. Just being himself, doing absolutely nothing. No pressure, no mysteries to uncover. Just relaxation and darkness in a random street in England.
But, unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.
Suddenly he heard a loud 'pop' sound to his right, and not a second later someone shouting "holy shit!"
Percy didn't even bother to stand up. He was too calm, and the weird thing that just happened wasn't going to change that.
After a few deep breaths he heard from the person on his right, they started walking towards him.
"Ahhh hi there" said the same voice, that now Percy recognized as a woman's voice.
The woman finally got close enough for him to see her face. He hadn't moved an inch since she got there, still in the same position on the ground.
Percy saw a surprisingly young and pale (well this is England) face of a woman with dark eyes and short spiky pink hair (which Percy thought was really cool).
Deeming the stranger cool enough to answer (unlike his dad or brother), he said with a laid back smile "hi to you too"
She blinked at him a couple of times "sooo not to be rude or anything... but... what are you doing here?"
Percy blinked back at her "laying on the ground" he told her like it was the most obvious thing in the world (which it was).
"Right... I can see that" she smirked at him "but I meant more of a... what are you planning to achieve in that?"
"Finding the meaning of life?" He tried with a small smile.
"Yeahh... I'm not buying it" she shook her head at him, smile still playing on her face. "What is happening here?"
For a long second Percy pondered the pros and cons of telling this random and surprisingly cool lady about his ahm... lost... problem.
He (unsurprisingly) decided to tell her. But only because he deemed her worthy enough to join his super cool teenage club. A club even the mightiest of gods were rejected from.
She should be honored for the opportunity
"So you see" he started "I just poofed here. But I meant to go see a friend of mine that is obviously not here, because all I can see here is this empty street with a name too hard for me to read on the sign" Percy explained sadly, dropping the black sunglasses back to his face (although the sunglasses were less useful in England than in Atlantis somehow).
"I understand..." she hummed quietly.
A minute or two passed in silence before Percy got tired of it "sooo what are you doing in this gloomy looking place?"
"The same as you... just without all the poofing in a random street thing" she smirked at him (pretty teasingly)
"Where is the friend you are meeting?" He asked her, finally making a move to stand up from the laying position he had been in for the past minutes? Hours?
She hesitated for a second before gesturing to the row of buildings right behind him.
He blinked at her again "oh. Okay. So like-" he turned around to be able to read the numbers on the houses "like 11 gri-Grambald 11 Grambald 12 or Grambald 13?"
He asked her, gesturing to each of the houses as he (tried to) read the address on them. He wasn't really interested, but the small and weird talk was better than silence.
The woman's mouth fell right open and her eyes widened comically as she looked at him with utter bewilderment. "What.. did you.. did you just point out at 12 Grimmauld Place!?"
Percy stumbled back a little. He did not expect the chill lady to start freak out like that. "Ahhh yes... why?"
"Because there is no building numbered 12 in Grimmauld" she tried to answer sanely and collect herself from the previous sudden outburst she had.
Now Percy was confused.
Like really confused.
He may be dyslexic, and not that motivated at the moment. Maybe he didn't have the mental power to move or question the weird lady.
But Percy definitely had eyes. And there was the number 11 on one building, then 12 and then 13.
Was this lady crazy?
"Ahmm" Percy rubbed the back of his neck in confusion "there is definitely number twelve, you see, it's right here".
And to prove that there was a fucking building in front of him he marched up to the entrance of the building and pointed at the address "see? Number twelve grimmauld something"
Percy scowled. Damn difficult street names. Why couldn't it be like.. first street or something as simple as that.
The lady's mouth fell right open again "How.. how?! How can you see it?!"
Percy tilted his head "with.. my eyes?"
The lady stared at him with horror for a few seconds before she started muttering (probably to herself) about some kind of protection? Or something called the.. Fidelius Charm?
Percy's eyes widened slightly when he heard the word 'charm'. Because that meant she was (probably) a witch. And if she was a witch, and Apollo dropped him off here... that meant... that he was in the right place after all!
Percy smiled happily after he reached that conclusion. He was not lost! Just slightly to the right from his destination!
He turned around, now facing the door, and pushed the (surprisingly unlocked) door open (these wizard people didn't even bother to lock it! Don't they have even a little bit of security?!).
At the second he stepped into the dark house, he heard some other lady starting to scream.
Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred and George were spying on the Order for a while now.
But unlike his friends, Harry wasn't listening to every concerning detail the Order was revealing to them without its knowledge. He was dwelling deep in his own mind.
Harry was thinking about Percy.
About the idea of asking him to come and help in the war.
Percy told him he was a demigod, son of the sea god. Which meant that Percy was a freaking half god! Someone who, without a doubt, would be able to solve all of their problems like a blessed angel (something that was far too close to reality)
But what if he said he couldn't. What if he didn't want to help. It could ruin the delicate friendship that they created. At least Harry hoped that Percy considered him a friend. But what if he didn't?!
Too many feelings, panic attack is on its way.
Harry was feeling like shit. He hated feeling like that. Too many emotions for only one stressed teenager that was always in a life threatening scenario (that did not help his anxiety! To be almost killed by one madman or another!)
But before Harry lost it completely and surrendered to the stress that was eating him inside, a scream put an end to his misery and pulled him outside of his head.
And not just a scream...
The bloody painting was active once more.
The portrait of Walburga Black, Sirius's mother, was once again awake and screaming bloody murder.
That got some interesting curses out of certain Order members (including Sirius of course).
A few of the Order members rushed outside to see what was the commotion all about. The kids, of course, raced after them.
And when they reached the entry to Grimmauld Place, where the portrait was, Harry stopped dead in his tracks.
The.. The Fuck?
How.. When...
Harry stood frozen in shock seeing the person that stood at the door near the still screaming painting.
Well.. speak of the devil and he shall appear (literally, as it turned out)
(not really a devil though, more of an angel if you asked for Harry's opinion)