Perseus Potter

Chapter 8

Percy’s smile crumbled and disappeared. “I’m so dead,” he muttered.

The group of friends turned their heads to look at him inquisitively. “Why’s that?” Hermione asked.

Percy didn’t answer, he just stared in disbelief as the doors opened and his cousin strode into the hall.

“He looks like a Slytherin,” Ron muttered from where he sat between Percy and the wall, not noticing Percy tense at the clear distaste in his tone. “I mean, look at him, he just radiates darkness. I bet he’s a Death Eater.”

Without warning, Percy growled and spun on him, grabbing the redhead by the front of his robes and slamming him against the wall, his wand to his throat. “Say that again, I dare you,” he snarled. The action drew the attention of everyone in the hall. Ron stared at Percy with wide eyes.

“Mr. Jackson, you put Mr. Weasley down right now!” Professor McGonagall ordered sternly.

Percy ignored her and glared at Ron. He only let the other boy down when Harry rested a calming hand on his shoulder. “Percy, let him go,” he said.

Still scowling, Percy let go of Ron, who quickly scrambled to sit on the opposite side of Harry and sat back down. As he sat, he found that Nico was staring at him. Their eyes met and Percy could see the flash of hurt cross his face. It was gone before anyone else could see. Nico made his way to the front and sat on the stool. The hat took less time than with Percy, though a short screech escaped it when it got to Nico’s memories of Tartarus. After Percy, it must have learned to skip those memories and focus on the others. When it was done the hat yelled, “Gryffindor!”

Percy sent a quick glare at Ron before cheering for Nico. Nico stormed straight over to Percy and sat next to him. He turned to glare at the Son of Poseidon, punching him in the arm. Hard. “You didn’t tell me it was a wizarding school you were going to!” he growled. “Why do you look different? And why is it that there is a kid that looks just like you right there? You better have a dam good explanation, Jackson.”

Percy laughed nervously. “Uh, yeah. Why are you here?”

“Dad sent me, now stop trying to change the subject. Why do you have a British accent? If you don’t tell me, I’ll call Annabeth,” Nico threatened.

Percy winced. He saw right through Nico’s anger and hated how much he had hurt the younger boy. “Well, uh, you see, I’m a wizard. I was born and raised in England. I’m adopted, and this is Harry, my twin brother. I look different because I don’t want everyone knowing who I am,” he hurriedly explained, tapping his fingers on his thigh nervously. He didn’t want the boy he thought of as a little brother to reject him because of his true parentage.

“So… Sally adopted you? And you lied to us? Is that why you were apologizing?” Nico asked, his expression blank, and showing no emotion. For once, the older demigod could not read him, his mind clouded with guilt and anxiety. Nico watched Percy’s fingers stop tapping and dig into his palms, drawing blood. He sighed. He knew exactly what was going on in Percy’s mind right then. “Percy, you’re still my cousin, no matter who your birth family is,” he said calmingly. He reached out and grabbed Percy’s hands, gently unclenching his cousin’s fists and wiping away the blood. He reached into his robe and pulled out a small first aid kit. He bandaged the cuts before putting the kit away.

When Percy saw the kit, he snorted. “How long did it take Will to convince you to carry that?” he asked teasingly, his worries now somewhat alleviated.

Nico glared at him. “All day. He’s not a god, Perce.”

Percy elbowed him. “Even a god couldn’t get you to carry that around. I’d say Will’s a miracle worker.”