Master of Death

Act 2 - Chapter 5

Harry tapped his fingers nervously. Nico was supposed to have visited them already, but hadn't. He was debating whether or not to just show up at his location when Draco came into the room.

"Hey, Love. Has Nico contacted you yet?" Draco asked. Nico was like a son to both of them, but Harry was the worrier.

Harry frowned and shook his head. "He was supposed to visit last summer but never did. Do you think I should go to him?"

Draco frowned too. He had been trying not to think about why Nico hadn't visited. He sighed. "Let me get changed into something more muggle and then we'll go."

Harry sighed and decided to do the same, changing into a hoodie and jeans. When Draco came back out of the closet, he was wearing a grey v-neck shirt with a black jacket and black skinny jeans. He had a sheathed sword strapped to his belt and a dagger strapped to his thigh. His wand holster was hidden beneath his jacket.

At the raised brow from Harry, he shrugged. "I have a bad feeling about this."

Trusting Draco's instincts, Harry grabbed his sword and bow before reaching out his senses to search for Nico's soul. "He's in Manhattan," Harry said.

When they stepped out of the fiery portal, they saw a group of forty teens gathered around a sixteen-year-old, who was clearly their leader. Nico stood beside the leader. All were dressed for battle.

Harry put his hands on his hips. "Nico di Angelo," he said sternly. "Just what are you doing?"

Everyone turned to face him, hands on hilts.

Nico's eyes widened. "Umm... I'm fighting in a war against Kronos?"

Harry's right eye twitched. "You didn't think to, oh, I don't know, call us?"

"Umm... No?"

Harry face palmed and turned to Draco. "Good thing we came prepared, right Dragon?" he said, unsheathing his sword.

Draco nodded and smirked.

"Who are you?" the leader demanded.

Harry bowed. "Hadrian Potter, Master of Death. This is my husband, Draco Potter. Lovely to meet you...?"

"Percy Jackson."

"So, you're Death's boyfriend! Wait, are you leading this war? You're sixteen. That's much too young."

"Bloody hypocrite. You killed the Dark Lord when you were fifteen," Draco said.

Harry turned to him with a scowl. "Perhaps, but Dumbles was leading the war effort."

Draco shrugged. "The history books don't see it that way."

Harry rolled his eyes. "The history books also say we're enemies and my childhood was happy."

"Excuse me, Mr. Potter? Are you here to help us or Kronos?" a blonde girl asked, her striking grey eyes boring into him.

Harry blinked. "Right! We're here to help you, of course."

"Are you demigods?"

"Well, no."

"Then, how do we know we can trust you?"

"No choice? You'll need all the help you can get. Besides, are you telling me there are no demigods in enemy ranks?"

They shuffled awkwardly.

"Right, okay. Welcome to the Army of Olympus," Percy said.

Harry grinned sharply.

Percy turned back to the crowd of demigods. "We're going to hold Manhattan," he said determinedly.