Percy Jackson at Hogwarts

Still Here

Harry PoV

There were flashes of light everywhere, eerily illuminating the vast dark room. All the flashes of light did was strengthen my fear. My fear of what, why was I afraid, where was I?

"DUBBLEDORE!" I swiveled around to the sound, heart thundering and palms sweating. I was more afraid than ever, because somewhere deep down, I already knew where I was. And that was before my eyes landed on Neville and I crouched on the steps.

"No," I whispered, because I knew where I was, and what was going to happen next. Yet, I didn't turn, not yet. In front of me, scared and crouching, was a version of myself that was free of the pain that comes next. Free of the hours, days, and weeks of crying. Free of the anguished yelling at friends that were just trying to help. Free of the painful throbbing heart, and the brain with happy memories turned sad. Laughter rang out some distance behind me, familiar laughter that made my heart beat faster, eyes watering, but I turned. Because at least I could see him happy. There was Sirius Black and Bellatrix Lestrange in the midst of a fight, but his face was happy and carefree, mirthfully mocking.

"Come on, you can do better than that!" His voice rang out, echoing until it was all I could hear. Then, suddenly I was right in front of him, not where I'd been the actual night at the Ministry. I could see his smile right in front of me, I wanted to reach out, grab hold of him. I did reach out, except I didn't, because while I certainly felt myself doing the motion, the arm that rose wasn't mine and the wand clasped in the hand wasn't mine either. The hand was pale with bony fingers and sharp, long nails. There was a ring on the index finger. The sleeve on the arm was long, a mixture of black and green, seemingly made of silk.

My breath caught in my throat and horror filled me, I was Bellatrix Lestrange. Her hand, my hand, it flicked upwards, aimed straight at Sirius. A jet of red light hit him and his body froze, the smile was still on his face, but his eyes registered shock. I watched, once again unable to do anything, as his body rocked backwards and vanished into the veil.

"No." I whispered it, but it was filled with pain.

"SIRIUS!" It was me, past, dream me, the Harry with Neville. Finally, I seemed able to move, but I was frozen. "SIRIUS!" His face, my face, was anguished, his eyes wide and teary. He seemed to gaze at the veil forever, then his eyes turned to me, filled with so much hatred and pain.

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I gasped, sitting up in bed, sweat beading at my forehead, droplets running down the side of my face. Panted breaths escaped my dry lips and I licked them as I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. My bare feet landed on the cold floor, the coolness easing my nerves. I'm at Hogwarts, not the Ministry of Magic. Maybe the fire would help. Changing my damp shirt, I padded downstairs quietly, only to see Percy seated in front of the fire. I almost approach him, but he seems different. Percy's expression is gloomy and dark, eyes contemplative, almost plotting. All of a sudden, it seems Percy knows more than he's letting on. Finally, I approach him, sitting next to him on the couch.

"What are you doing still up?" Percy turns to me and stares at me with a look I can't decipher. I feel uncomfortably exposed under his gaze.

"I couldn't sleep," he finally answers. "What about you?" I think about whether or not I should tell him.

"Nightmares." I don't elaborate, expecting Percy to pry, but instead, he surprises me.

"Yeah, nightmares... those aren't fun." Percy's face darkens, eyes darker, expression darker and it send chills down my spine. But there's also something sad about his expression. Deeper, I realize, a resigned sadness. It's now I realize there's a lot I don't know about Percy.