Heroes at Hogwarts

thirty-eight | sore throats and sky holders

percy

Percy couldn't help hacking every time he spoke. Anytime Kelli came back into the room, he'd try to fire some kind of retort at her, something that would make her real mad, but every time he tried, he'd just end up coughing up a storm.

And with the silence that surrounded him, Harry, and Luke (Percy still hadn't gotten over that), he was having trouble even thinking up words.

Harry looked terrible. Percy and Luke both had gone through Tartarus before, on very different circumstances, but they'd both survived the worst hell possible to demigod-kind. Harry had yet to go through anything like that. Sure, he'd had just about as terrible of a childhood as Percy had (okay, Harry's was worse), but the Weasley's had taken the boy in. Harry probably had never imagined his cool new water magic came with this kind of price.

When Luke or Percy could manage words, they spoke in hushed whispers about anything that made their spirts lift. They talked about Annabeth and Thalia, about the Agro II crew and the two camps. Anything that Luke asked, Percy tried to tell him all about. The longest his sentences ever got were four or five words, but Luke seemed to understand. Harry, on the other hand, barely ever muttered a word. His head hung, his chest shook. 

The air wasn't only affecting their lungs, either. Harry had deep, dark circles under his eyes and he hadn't slept in days. When Luke or Percy would sleep, he'd always be awake when they closed their eyes and when they opened them. It was starting to scare Percy. Sure, they were in hell...but Harry's health was going to hell. Maybe the only reason Percy could relax was because he'd been here before, and the last time his hosts hadn't been as friendly. At least now he was confined to a room and nothing was trying to kill him- yet, anyway.

But none of this was what worried Percy the most; it was his feelings for the pit. For some reason, Percy Jackson felt completely at home. The air was getting easier to breath every day. He was sleeping better- and that frightened him. He didn't want to be like the monsters in the dark. 

It also seemed he was the only one that felt this way. Harry and Luke seemed to be getting worse at breathing, not better, and from his memories with his little...vacation here with Annabeth, the air didn't get easier to deal with then. So why did it now?

The door opened and a small sliver of light entered the room.

For as long as they'd been here, they'd never met their host. Just Kelli, who Percy was beginning to hate more and more with every meeting.

And sure enough, the empousa stalked into the room with her trusty dracaenae sidekick.

"Looking swell," Percy managed.

Kelli growled at him, "And so are you." She grinned.

Percy was sure this meant he looked like death. And not Nico, just actual death.

Luke coughed. "Maybe you could just tell us why we're here?"

Kelli laughed. The dracaenae behind her let out a hiss, which was her way of laughing, Percy guessed. "I cannot do that," Kelli told them.

"Then how long have we been here?" Harry's voice was so quiet that Percy barely heard him, and the boy's mouth was right next to his ear. He was staring at his hands.

"Oh, two weeks or so." Kelli shrugged. "We're just waiting until your little friends realize where you are," she explained, "then we'll take them down, one demigod at a time."

Harry shook his head, but didn't say anything. Percy figured he was still trying to process everything that was going on, so Percy spoke up, "You're not going to win."