When Wand and Sword Collide || Percy Jackson/ Harry Potter

A Vague and Nastily Long Prophecy

That night, Harry unsurprisingly had a dream.

Transported to a dimension where time and space didn't flow normally, the fog was so dense and choking, there seemed no beginning and end to the mist that undulated further out than his eye could see. Harry let himself drift, cotton on wind. He floated aimlessly until he bumped into something... or someone.

It was the same woman that petted him in his previous dreams, with sinuous robes and dark hair and eyes. It was strange, because Harry could have sworn she wasn't there just two seconds ago, and now she was.

She reached forward, her fingers raking gently through his messy hair. The touch was soothing, though, so Harry said nothing as she did.

"My dear boy," she began, before suddenly recoiling backwards and clutching her head in pain. Her next words were strained. "I must make this quick. You are doing well, but the other campers do not trust you. You must leave soon. Soon, before they turn you away completely."

She flicked her head around like someone was coming, but Harry saw nothing. When she turned back, her face was desperate.

"Go on a quest, find out your purpose, and you can have your old life back. Keep practicing your magic, though, you may find..."

But the distance devoured her before Harry could hear the rest. He reached out to her, slowly melting into the nothingness.

"Wait!" Harry called, but without warning, what was left of the woman burst into a supernova. Colours exploded, sensations erupted all over. Agony tore through him before—

Harry woke in his bed, his body shivering, an ache raging through his head.

"Harry."

Luth was peering over at him from his side of the room. There was a gentle sloping of his brow, perhaps his attempt at concern, one that ultimately failed as the rest of him remained as blank as an empty sketchbooks.

"You were having a nightmare."

Harry gulped, sitting up in his bed. Moonlight filtered through the blinds, drawing silver bars across the rug, the only mark of colour besides the orange glow of the little desk lamp by Luth's bed. It was silent, too, eerily so, the only noises Lou's soft snoring.

"Yeah," Harry mumbled, unsure what he'd just witnessed. He reached for his glasses. "Fine. Sorry."

Luth himself wasn't actually in bed. Instead, he was sitting in the chair beside it, in his pyjamas with a Greek spell book open on his lap. His loose blond hair looked even more limp than normal.

Harry regarded the boy with a curious frown. "Haven't you gone to sleep?"

Luth smiled weakly. "I can't. I'm a bit of an insomniac."

Harry felt a rush of self-consciousness – had Luth heard every noise that Harry had made? Did he say anything about the strange dream? If anything he hoped he didn't snore as much as Lou did.

"Ae you still practicing?"

Luth looked back down at the book and flicked over the page. "Yeah. Might as well if I can't sleep."

Silence again. It was hard to imagine Lou Ellen and Luth Laudimus were related – whilst she could talk for hours, Luth couldn't hold a conversation if it was the size of a marble and glued to his palm. Maybe it was because they didn't know each other very well yet.

To his surprise, Luth opened his mouth, before he closed it again.

Harry blinked. "What did you want to say?"