Chapter Text
“How-“ Perseus broke off as his voice cracked before trying again. That was embarrassing. “How long have I been asleep?”
The old man had a kind look in his eyes as if he understood Percy’s worry. Which was ridiculous. How could he possibly know that an insane goddess kidnapped him and made him sleep for almost nine months?
But still, Old Guy’s voice was soft as he replied, “It hasn’t yet been 24 hours since your recovery from Central Park.”
Recovery. That would imply he had been with these people before. A more apt description would be kidnapped, but Percy wasn’t really interested in debating semantics with these people. Now, if this was Annabeth in this situation, she would 100% be interested in debating semantics.
Old Guy addressed the entire room. “Now, let's all put away our wands and swords,“ a pointed look at Percy “-sit down, and talk about what’s happened calmly.”
Percy opened his mouth to tell the Old Guy how much he didn’t want to do that when he froze. “Wait, you can tell it’s a sword?”
He immediately regretted voicing his thoughts out loud. Of course, they could. They could do magic. He’d gotten hung up on his conversation with Annabeth earlier. This ruled out muggles with tech he didn’t understand, but left him wondering which pantheon of gods these people belonged to.
Greasy-Haired Guy standing in the corner also thought his question was stupid. He snapped, “How idiotic do you think we all are? Of course, we can tell it’s a sword.”
There was a soft admonishment from Old Guy, “Severus.”
Percy was still caught up in how vicious Greasy-Haired Guy was for someone he didn’t know. “Wow,” he then paused. If this guy wasn’t going to hold back, neither would Percy. “I hate you.”
There was some hastily choked-off laughter coming from some kids standing close to the door of the dusty kitchen. The Old Guy sighed. He gestured again for Percy to take a seat at the dining room table.
Percy hesitated just a moment more before capping his sword and sitting down. There were soft exclamations as his sword vanished. Which Percy thought was a little weird since these people could do literal magic. There must not be a spell for hiding swords as pens.
As much as he didn’t like the situation, he really did want to get some answers. Many of the others in the room, excluding the kids (whom everyone seemed to have forgotten about) and a few others, took his lead and sat down as well.
“Well,” started the Old Guy. “I suppose introductions are in order. My name is Albus Dumbledore, head of the Order of the Phoenix, an organization dedicated to bringing about the end of the dark wizard Voldemort.” For some reason, a few at the table noticeably flinched towards the end. A few more introductions were made around the table, most of which Percy immediately forgot.
“Cool,” Percy responded. “My name’s Percy Jackson, but I assume you all already knew that since you kidnapped me.” One of the people at the table, a redheaded middle-aged woman, choked once Percy said his name. Percy continued unconcerned, “Why am I here?”
A woman with fuchsia hair, he thinks her name was Tonks, leaned forward over the table to make eye contact with him. “That dark wizard that Dumbledore mentioned earlier is coming after you. We got to you before he could.”
Percy was baffled. “Okay, but that doesn’t explain why I’m here. You didn’t have to pluck me up from my home just because you didn’t want this dark guy to get me. And besides, bad things gunning for me isn’t anything new. I can handle myself.” (His sloppy response to the scarred guy grabbing him at Central Park could attest to the opposite, but he wasn’t going to bring that up. And in his defense, it’s hard to fight against something you don’t see coming up behind you.)
Tonks now looked just as baffled as Percy. “Okay. I’m not going to even try to unpack all that. Percy… we don’t know how to tell you this… but your grandfather’s not a good man.”
Okay, so they were Greek. But Percy was still confused by the sudden topic shift to Kronos.
One of the redheaded kids in the back chimed in, “Try murdering psychopath. That’s a more on-the-nose description.” He elbowed another redheaded kid who looked identical to him in the side.
Percy was so tired of feeling so confused. He let the pause drag on before responding. “…Yeah, I already knew that. I’m real confused on how you guys knew that, though.”
He could tell that none of them were on the same page now. Everyone was sharing glances with one another to try and gauge how much everyone else understood. Eventually, the one who kidnapped Percy in New York, Scarred Guy, aka Remus Lupin, spoke up. “You know Voldemort’s a murdering psychopath?”
Percy practically felt the puzzle pieces snapping together. “Wait, you think this Voldemort guy’s my grandfather?!”
A third redheaded kid asked a question of his own, “Well who the bloody hell are you talking about then?!”
“Kronos? My grandfather?” Percy felt that his eyebrows were going to be permanently stuck in this alarmed position.
There were only blank looks given back to him. Alright, enough was enough.
“Okay, are you or are you not Greek?”
Redheaded Kid Number One spoke up. “Mate, we live in Britain.”
Percy slumped back in his chair. So they weren’t Greek. Wow, he was tired.
Greasy-Haired Guy from before, Severus Snape, interjected before more comments could be made. “Are you trying to imply, that Kronos, the Greek Titan of the harvest, or Chronos, the Primordial of eternity, is your grandfather?” Percy could practically taste the skepticism and distate radiating from him.
Well, in for a penny. “Sure. Yeah. That’s exactly what I’m implying.”
There were expressions of outrage from many in the room.
Dumbledore, previously known as Old Guy, gestured for silence. The sound died out and everyone looked on eagerly for what he would say.
“One of the Greek Gods sired you?” Dumbledore was peering intently at Percy. He tried not to get weirded out by it.
“Yep. I’m the product of a fling between my mother and a God.” Percy held his breath to see how he’d respond to his declaration.
Dumbledore turned to Snape. “It would explain the discrepancy between blood colors,” he murmured.
“Surely you’re not entertaining this lunacy?!” Snape hissed back.
Instead of responding only to Snape, Dumbledore turned back to address the room as a whole. “I’ve heard rumors, during my time as a part of the ICW that there were beings who called themselves Greek Gods who still walked among us. But I assumed they were only rumors. I surmised that if they did exist, MACUSA was the only one who had confirmation of their existence for reasons I do not know. It was always their government that would hint at it.” He then looked directly at Percy, “But I never considered something as fantastical as this.”
A black-haired man, something Black if Percy remembered correctly, asked Percy, “I don’t suppose you’d have any way to prove it, would you?”
Percy rolled his eyes. He really wished he had access to Camp Half-Blood’s orientation film. It would make this so much easier. As tacky as it was, it was a pretty good crash course for introducing people to the world of Greek demigods. At least, the old one was. Travis and Connor Stoll got permission from Chiron about a year ago to redo the film and make a more ‘modern version’. What was actually produced was an unnecessarily dramatic documentary of the Stoll brothers’ lives. Percy wouldn’t have minded so much, but they somehow managed to get a slow-motion shot of him sneezing, which they played multiple times throughout the film. He still used it when initiating new campers because the alternative of sitting down and explaining everything was even more distasteful to him.
He sighed at Black’s request. “Sure. I’ll just need a glass of water, a ray of sunlight, and something valuable - preferably a gold coin.”
Tonks was the first to fork over a gold coin that looked similar to a drachma. “This I’ve got to see,” she mumbled to herself. The water followed soon after.
Lupin waved his wand and incanted a dramatic “lumos solem.“ A bright ray of sunlight beamed from the tip of his wand. Percy nodded, impressed.
Percy placed the water glass on the floor and stood next to the light. There was a small tug in his gut and the water exploded outward into a mist of water vapor that hung suspended in the air. A vivid rainbow formed in the light. He rubbed the gold coin between his thumb and forefinger.
Normally, he’d be a little apprehensive about using an unknown coin that wasn’t a drachma for an Iris Message. Fortunately for him, the Athena cabin had done an experiment a few months ago to see what Iris would accept as an offering. You know, ‘cause that’s what the Athena cabin considers to be fun. Iris took drachmas and denari - really anything of value. Percy once tried using those chocolate gold coins - the ones you’d get at the bottom of a Halloween bucket - when they thought it could only be gold coins used. It had been spat back out of the rainbow at such a high velocity that Percy had sported a bruise on his forehead for the next week. The experiment had ended when one of the Athena campers went back home for the summer and tried to use his Xbox as an offering. He was dismayed to find that it was considered an acceptable form of payment.
Percy tried not to feel uncomfortable with everyone’s eyes on him. “Oh Iris, goddess of the rainbow, please accept this offering. Show me Annabeth Chase.” He threw it and the coin vanished in the mist.
For a tense moment, nothing happened, but then the rainbow shimmered and changed.
Annabeth was sitting turned away from him, scribbling frantically on a piece of paper at her desk in the Athena cabin. Percy grinned in relief.
“Hey Annabeth?“ Annabeth went rigid and flipped around. “Can you come pick me up? There’s alcohol and drugs at this party and I want to go home.”
She let out a relieved sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh. “Sure thing, Seaweed Brain. Just give me an address and I’ll be right over.”
Percy looked over at the witches. By their expressions of interest, the Iris Message was something they’d never seen before. Percy raised his eyebrow at Dumbledore.
Dumbledore walked over to the Iris Message and peered in curiously. “Hello,” he said to Annabeth.
Annabeth’s expression immediately clouded over. “So you’re behind the kidnapping of my boyfriend.” She stated it as a fact instead of a question.
Dumbledore just smiled. “I’m afraid it came across that way. But we weren’t trying to hurt Percy, just save him from an unfortunate end at the hands of another.”
Annabeth still looked skeptical. “Prove it. Tell me your location and we’ll call it even.”
“Ah,” Dumbledore said with concern, “are you sure this method of communication is secure?”
“The only person who even knows we’re talking right now is the goddess Iris.”
He still looked a little uneasy. “Very well,” he conceded. “The headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix is at Number 12, Grimmauld Place.” He paused. “I could send someone with a portkey to retrieve you within the day if you’d like?”
“No need. We’ll be there in half an hour. And where exactly is Number 12?”
Dumbledore was just confused now. “London, England.”
Annabeth finally brightened. “Great!” she said while clapping her hands together. She walked out of the frame of the Iris Message. “Hey, Malcom!” She hollered. “Get me di Angelo and Blackstone!” Percy could hear some unkind words in the background but eventually Malcom relented. Annabeth ducked back into the frame.
“So what’s the deal?” She asked. “Why’d they kidnap you?”
Lupin ducked behind Percy while still holding the beam of sunlight aloft. “I truly am sorry about that,” he said, and to his credit, he actually did sound apologetic. “I know my method was unorthodox, but it really was for Perseus’s-“
“Percy,” Percy cut in.
“-own safety.” Lupin continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “Those other men in the park were there to abduct him and bring him to one who means him harm. We were planning on approaching it differently, but circumstances demanded that we act fast.”
Annabeth turned her skeptical expression to Percy. “What do you think?” she asked him.
“Apparently this guy who wanted to kidnap me is my evil grandfather or something.”
Annabeth’s eyebrows rose. “Jim Jackson? I thought your grandparents died in a plane crash when you were little?”
Percy looked over at the people watching him in the room and shrugged. “According to these guys, Jim and Estelle aren’t Mom’s real parents. I’m not really sure how I feel about that yet.”
Annabeth didn’t have time to respond before they were interrupted. Nico walked into the cabin and saw Percy in the Iris Message.
“Oh, thank gods!” he exclaimed. “I really didn’t want to have to do this a second time.” He flopped down in a sitting position on the nearest bed. “Where are you? We’ll come pick you up.”
Percy tried to repeat the address that had just been spoken but found that he couldn’t. His mouth didn’t want to cooperate with his mind. The alarmed expression on Annabeth’s face told him that she must be experiencing something similar.
Dumbledore didn’t seem bothered by their inner turmoil. “The location of the Order of the Phoenix is at Number 12, Grimmauld Place, London, England.”
Nico didn’t seem to care that he was talking to a stranger or that his friends were having internal crises. “Cool. I’ll go grab Mrs. O’Leary and we’ll be over in a minute.” Nico ran out of the room.
Annabeth seemed to accept there was a time and place to interrogate over the intricacies of magic and what exactly was preventing her from speaking, so she just sighed and shook her head. “I’ll let you go for now,” she said. “I’ve got to go let your mother know that we’ve found you before we head out.“ She paused. “I’ll see you in a little, alright Percy?” She was searching his face as if to see if he was hiding something.
“See you in a bit,” Percy confirmed fondly. He waved his hand through the mist, dispersing the Iris Message.
Percy plopped back into his chair at the table and looked again at everyone else in the room. “So,” he began, “I think it would be best if we cleared the air while we waited.” He smiled. “And between the secret Greek society and the secret witch society, I don’t think we’ll run out of things to talk about.”