Percy Jackson at Hogwarts

Circle of Life

Annabeth PoV

It was damp in the cell we were in and I lost count of how many days we were trapped here. Not that it was probably accurate. There were no windows to tell time by the sun, no clock or watch. I now regret not having Tyson build me a watch like he did for Percy. There was this insistent crawling in my throat, a side effect of the damp environment. The walls and floor were stone, the cell bars made out of iron and it didn't exactly smell the best. It was a cellar or a basement at best— not a dungeon because who had those anymore? There were torches lining the walls, but they were far apart and dim, not creating much light.

A cough rattled out of me, one that turned into a painful fit that left my chest hurting, throat raw, and breathing hoarse, lips moist with saliva.

"Annabeth?" The voice came from my right, hoarse and low, whispered, thirsty. I was thirsty too. It was Jason and he was looking at me with a concerned look in his eyes, but he wasn't in good shape either. His blond hair was stringy and grimy with dirt, his shirt dirty, face covered in streaks of dirt and blood. "Are you okay?" No, I'm not, and neither are you. But I didn't say that, because he already knew that.

"Yeah, fine." My voice was hoarse too, raspy, gravely, raw. Very little water, very little food... I doubt we would leave here alive if someone didn't come soon. Months, it must've been months. Anything less would be torture because that would mean the days are dragging on longer than they actually are. It was all the same, the days.... They're no different from each other. Wake up if we even managed to get some sleep, stare, wait, silence, something happens or doesn't, try and sleep, repeat. Sometimes they brought food, most times they didn't. They brought water more often, but often they didn't.

My head throbbed with a pain at the back and I'm sure Jason's did too. My concussion was healing, but it still hurt like Hades. And here, wherever this is, isn't the ideal setting to have a concussion. A groan escaped and echoed around the room, but it wasn't my groan. My eyes shot open and my head swung towards Jason, moving as quickly as I could with all of my injuries.

"Jason." His hand was cradling his side and he pulled it away shakily to reveal blood-coated fingers. He coughed hoarsely, hacking violently as blood fell from his lips and dripped down his chin. I dragged my form across the cold floor to move closer, try and do something. Ripping cloth from my pant leg, I moved his slumped form carefully, ignoring his moan of pain. Lifting his ratty shirt, I wrapped the long piece of cloth methodically around his torso, having to do so in a spiral manner for the cloth was long, but only about three inches wide. Tying it into a secure knot, I leaned away to observer his face. His normally tanned complexion was pale and his eyes shut in agony, teeth gritted. Blood adorned his face in many places.

I couldn't help but think about why he was in so much worse shape than me, so much worse. It was about a week ago, only a few days after I'd gotten my concussion. It was one of the days where something happened. Dragged from the cell and weak from hunger, thirst, and other days such as that one, we were carried into another room. There ensued hours of pain, blood, sweat, tears, and screams. Hours of backs arched in agony, throats hoarse from raw use, and vision blurred with salty tears. It was horrible, worse than usual because of my then fresh concussion.

Then came the cup filled with poison-laced water, the cup meant for me. It was a slow killing poison, but with my concussion, it would be faster and more painful. The cup was poised, tilted above my forced open mouth, strong fingers brushing my jaw with keeping it open. But Jason knew, and curse him, he's just like his cousin, just like Percy, because he begged to take my place. And now, if we didn't escape before three more weeks passed, he would die. Especially with his new injury, inflicted only yesterday.

"A-Annabeth..." his voice rasped out and I gazed at him expectantly, knowing he wasn't finish. I patted his hand in reassurance. "We're... we're not going to make it." The air in my lungs caught and I shook my head.

"No, stop. We're going to make it, Jason, the both of us. Help is coming... it's just taking a little longer. Look where we are, we're in a cell that's clearly in a basement. The bars are of iron, but they're not ancient, and that boy. We're clearly in a mortal place, the demigods wouldn't think to look in mortal places, but they will... eventually."  The day Jason was poisoned, a boy sneaked into the dungeon, eyes wide upon seeing us. His hair was blond, like Jason and I, but it was a platinum blond, and his eyes were gray. Strangely, he wore robes, black robes that contrasted against his near pale complexion.

...

"Please, help us." His mouth opened in a frozen manner, wordless noise escaping.

"I-I can't. I'm sorry." He turned, footsteps light but quick. He was leaving.

"Annabeth, my name is Annabeth and his name is Jason. Please, I'm begging you, help us." Names, it was harder to ignore someone in distress when you knew their name, knowing their name established some kind of connection. It was my only move. The platinum haired boy paused, his head turning towards us. His lips trembled and his hands shook, eyes flittering nervously. He licked his lips and took a hesitant step forwards before jumping backwards at a loud bang. He glanced at us one more time.

"I'm sorry," then he shook his head and sprinted down the dark hallway, disappearing around the corner.

...

Jason shook his head weakly, eyes lolling shut.

"I don- don't have a little longer, and considering who we're with, you probably don't have much longer than me." No.

"They'll find us! They have to! Thalia, Nico, Hazel, Frank, Piper... they'll find us, they're looking. Percy, he's looking, Percy will help fin—" Jason's head shoots up.

"No! Percy's in Scotland, Annabeth! Even before we got captured we couldn't Iris Message him, we couldn't— can't contact him. He doesn't know. How can Percy rescue us when he doesn't even know we're missing!" His breathing roughened tremendously after his outburst and he descending into a bloody coughing fit, coughing blood into his palm. Though my feelings were hurt, he was right and in pain, so I rubbed my palm on his back while his fit subsided. "Thank you." And I could see the tears well in his eyes, but they never fell.

"You're right, Percy doesn't know, he's not coming." Scotland, why was he in Scotland? Why didn't he tell us instead of letting us think he was kidnapped? "But the others, they're coming. We're going to make it out of here, you're going to make it out of here. And after, when we've regained our strength, we'll go into battle and defeat Atlas." He smiled tiredly and closed his eyes, resting his head against the wall he was propped on.

§§

You guys finally know who it is!

Atlas! I wanted you guys to know from the beginning, but I was curious as to who you guys thought it would be.

Anyways, got to start on the next chapter!

Bye!