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Disclaimer: I don't own PJO or Harry Potter, all I own is partially the plot and Jim the Squib! (That is his official reference title)

Chapter V: Hellish Memories

Hogwarts

Jason

Jason glanced at the doorway to the musty History classroom nervously. He was hoping that Percy would burst through late, and apologize for the fact. Needless to say, you might have deducted that Percy was not present, and Jason wanted to know why. After half an hour had past, he had lost hope, though he still waited. He had a slight anxiety, although it might have been because of his mild ADHD. He had not seen Percy since breakfast that morning. Not even a glimpse, and he was quite the fact was tugging at his mind. Of course, it was completely a plausible scenario that Percy simply didn't have the same class as them at the same time, but then again, Jason reasoned, Dumbledore would have made sure the Trio would have been able to protect Harry as a united team, not as scattered friends. But then contrarily, Jason supposed that Dumbledore might not have control over everything within his walls. Still, he couldn't avoid the little nagging of concern for the fact that the two had no idea of their third partner's whereabouts. And trust me, this is hard not to think about when you're stuck in a confined classroom expected to sit still in a chair for the entirety of 60 minutes at a time (if you're ADHD).

Jason attempted settling his worries and tried to avert his attention to the semi-transparent ghost floating in front of him, or rather, the blackboard behind him, his brain quickly falling into inattention as the Professor rambled on about some town named after some bloke named Godric Gryffidor, whom which Jason recognized from Hecate's brief history lesson. He was pretty sure that this dude had founded the Gryffindor house way back when Hogwarts was created, and Jason vaguely recalled something called the sword of Gryffindor, which had originally belonged to Godric. He thought that was a radical fact. Continuing in vain to try and keep focused on listening, Jason started fidgeting with the gray cloth of his robe. He noticed, not too rough, not too silky. It was really neither comfy nor uncomfortable. It was neutral. Talk about inattentive to the world around. Jason was analyzing his clothing!

Defying possibility, there was one student who seemed completely absorbed and interested in the teacher before them. It was a ginger haired girl with bushy hair that took notes and nodded in agreement (and to show that she was the only interested one in the room) comparable to the way a starving man would consume pepperoni pizza. In rapid succession.

Miraculously, Professor Binns finally ended his lecture. dismissed the class, right after announcing a thousand word essay describing in detail the origins of magic in the Wizarding world (to which many a pupil groaned in helpless protest). Professor then noted to the quickly departing crowd of students that page fifty-two to fifty-five in their history textbook might be of some assistance. Vaguely listening, Jason stretched as far as his joints would allow for, as he shook off the last hour of tedious sitting and listening (Actually, not much of this). It honestly was quite a bore to his Demigod brain, and had the lecturing not ended, he wasn't sure if he wouldn't just succumb to a pure boredom-induced vegetative state. All he was sure of, was that he was extremely glad to have crossed the threshold out of that brick-laid classroom.

Wondering where he was to go next, Jason slid the paper school schedule out his robe's pocket, and unrolled the scroll on which the graph was written out on. Eyeing the name of the class he had just left all too pleased, History, he glanced at the subject written directly below it. There, written in a fancy font, read Φίλτρα.

"Next stop, Potions." Nico looked at him weirdly.

Hogwarts

Percy

Percy was still pondering the incident at breakfast that day. He was still quite confused about the fact that the boy couldn't do magic. For half of a half of a second, he remarked that he could simply have misheard. Of course, before he could even speak his thought, it was washed away, for that the rest of the three-fourths of that second was spent realizing that he was merely attempting to save his mind the thought process required to unravel this mystery. Unfortunately for him, Percy wouldn't ever be as smart as Annabeth. She was the daughter of Wisdom, for crying out loud.

Percy did, of course, know the name of the school in which he was currently moving through its halls. And the little that he did know about it was that it was a school for magic, and here, one learned how to perform such magic, and in order to perform such magic, Percy was quite so-very-sure that one must have to be capable of such magic in order to achieve a task that required said 'such magic'. And supposedly, the boy Percy had met earlier in the day had lacked the ability to do that. This was the mental whirlpool forming in his mind, as he failed to see why in Hades Jim was at a school where he was unable to do what the school specifically taught. Obviously, Percy was already expending many-a-brainpower to understand, without even noticing.

As odd as it might sound, Percy Jackson was so very deep in thought and ponder that he failed to notice that disfigured man – Moody – limping hastily down the hall leading to another hall, into another, and another, and well, you need not know where else he planned to go. All you must know is that in his coat he had numerous vials of stuff (for lack of a better term) to make some sort of potion. Percy failed to notice this, and thus, failed to notice which room Moody had just fled from. The door was ajar, but again, Percy failed to notice. That is, until that he bumped into some person too inattentive to see that Percy was piddle-jogging (A phrase which here means "faster than walk but slower than jog") down the hallway, (or perhaps it was the fault of Percy). It was then that he noticed the open door, but of course, paid no mind and forgot quickly about this little tidbit of a fact when he muttered "sorry" to the man, and tried to dodge around. All the man did was simply shift his position. Percy looked up at his irritator, as he felt irritated at this moment by this very irritating man.

He didn't know this pale, greasy-haired man that now stood like a stick was glued to his back, cocking his head slightly at him. "Can you move, please?" Percy inquired, expressing his annoyed tone extremely obviously as he spoke those three simple words and raised eyebrows. "What did you take?" The person asked, and Percy was genuinely bewildered.

Against his better judgment, he acted respectful to this man – whom Percy assumed was one of the professors – and spoke politely this time. It wouldn't do him any good to get in trouble on his first day of school. "Sir, I didn't take anything." It practically made Percy belch at the formality in which he spoke.

"Are we sure about that?" the professor said each word slowly and narrowed his eyes, like he was trying to be mysterious. Honestly, it creeped him out more (or perhaps that was his intention in the first place), and Percy nodded apprehensively, slow like the way the man had spoken.

"Very well." The professor waved him away with the flick of his wrist, and Percy tentatively moved along. When he looked back over his shoulder, the man was still staring, watching Percy as he walked, and turned the corner. Percy was relieved when he could finally walk knowing that there wasn't someone watching his every move behind his back. He jogged a little faster.

Still Percy

When he finally found his way to his destination, Percy tiptoed into the musty classroom, attempting not to attract the attention of every person in the room. He Failed Miserably (HFM). All heads adjusted in the general direction of Percy's as he awkwardly slinked into the room. The teacher – Professor Mcgonagall – looked at him, and turned her head at him for a moment.

"You're late." The Professor simply stated. Not exactly begging for an apologetic reply, but Percy decided he should just be safe.

"Sorry, but I was having some trouble finding this room." He replied in apology. "It reminds me of the Labyrinth." He wasn't sure if Mcgonnagall understood the reference, but she then gestured her left hand for him to sit down. Her other hand was still hovering in the air holding her wand – it was in that position demonstrating a spell before Percy interrupted. Percy sat down awkward and quietly in the third row as the class returned their attention to the professor. However, Percy did notice a particular girl staring at him, as if wondering. Percy wondered suddenly if this bushy haired girl had gotten his remark about the complicated halls of Hogwarts. Before, he could study the fact more, Professor Mcgonnagall continued.

"Now, as I was showing you before," She flicked her wand like she was she was cracking a whip, and muttered, "Aguamenti!" and the goblet she was directing her wand at filled to the brim with crystal clear, glimmering water.

"Now, as you all will remember from the start of the lesson, the motion used to cast the spell is compulsory to the success of it, as it is with any other spells related to the magic of transfiguration. Now, I want you all to fill your goblets with water. Remember, flick your wand while saying the incantation loud and clear. Proceed."

There was a general murmur as the students raised their wands and muttered the spell. There was a ranging variety of success among the students: only a handful of them (that number could be counted on one hand with enough fingers left to hang off a cliff) had it down perfect, and a majority of them needed two or three tries. Percy himself was one of the people who needed many more attempts. When his nerves were beginning to become frustrated, he did, in fact succeed. The only problem was, it was quite an over-success, if such a phrase exists in the English language. Instead of filling the goblet with about half a liter of water, rather, a sphere of water above the silver goblet appeared. The sphere retained its shape for perhaps a single millisecond before Percy yelled in surprise and 100 liters of pure H2O came crashing in his face. Of course, Percy yelled out in pure surprise, and not in discomfort, as he was actually quite comfortable in those few moments submerged.

Professor Mcgonagall quickly took hold of the situation and equally as quickly directed her wand at the water and used the vanishing spell on it, leaving everything completely dry and everyone with a quite surprised look on their faces. Percy Jackson sat there, receiving all the stares, feeling quite uncomfortable. He grinned sheepishly, and the crowd slowly averted their attention for the second time that hour back to the teacher.

The Professor looked sternly at Percy for a solid ten seconds, then announced to the class, "5 points to Perseus Jackson, for demonstrating excessive skill at this particular spell, though next time, I recommend some restraint." She showed a slight smirk at that last part and Percy guessed it was some sort of joke. Still conscious of the many occasional glances toward his direction, Percy realized he had broken one of Chiron's guidelines. The centuries old centaur had specifically instructed the three powerful demigods not to draw attention to themselves. Percy was quite sure this qualified.

Again, many pupil's eyes were looking at the Slytherin is shock. It was quite a rare sight (in fact, it hadn't happened for multiple decades) to see the head of Griffindor award a Slytherin, of all people, a house point. Even a measly five of them. The other Slytherins looked partly in cheer, while the Hufflepuffs still looked in bewilderment. Suddenly, Mcgonnagall returned back to the lesson at hand all evidence of the recent anomaly gone.

"Back to the lesson at hand, then." Resumed Mcgonnagall. "It's no shame if you couldn't make the spell work, or if you needed a few tries. This is school, and here, you try again until you get it right."

The class took this brief speech as a prompt to resume their spellcasting. This time, there was a wider range of success. Percy sat there, unsure of whether Mcgonnagall was also urging him to retry as well. He really didn't want to create a mess like just a minute earlier, but before he could think too much about it, Professor Mcgonnagall gestured toward Percy with her wand – for a few terrifying moments that almost forced his instinct to draw Riptide, the notion licked his mind that she was trying to murder him – and spoke, "Go on, don't be scared."

Relief flooded through his limbs as he was assured he wouldn't become Sea-spawn shish-kebab. Percy looked skeptically down at his little wooden stick of magical glory that caused much havoc in the last minute, frowned, and looked again at Professor Mcgonnagall, who had a look saying: I'm not kidding! painted upon her face.

Percy spoke the incantation, trying to enunciate every syllable so he would avoid any screw-ups. Again, (though he didn't know it) the flicking of the magical stick was a tad off, and it took him slightly more tries than desirable to get it correct. This time, though, the spell was under his control and he didn't cause another haywire incident. The cup filled to the very brim, just as he had seen all the other students' spells did it. He was quite pleased as he had not created a mess using his artificial magical abilities, and allowed himself a small grin. He was also reveling at his new ability to control magic. He'd always thought that controlling the Mist was an envy-worthy talent, even if magic was slightly different and more sophisticated than the Mist.

It was short lived, however, as the Professor glanced the old wooded grandfather clock that went tick, tick, tick like a metronome that someone forgot next to a microphone that was on to the highest of volume. Percy had become dulled to the sound of it, and noticed its loud ticking no more. However, Percy remembered once again that the musty wooden time-keeper existed, as he had followed the Professor's precise gaze.

"Merlin's beard! Is it that time of day already?" She exclaimed. "Students, this class has been dismissed! Tomorrow we will work on this again, and on transfiguring air into the form of matter called plasma, so practice those hand movements! Try not to blow anything up!"

There was a great hustle as children exited the classroom in not-so-orderly fashion. Many were looking down at their papery schedules, as was Percy. Finding the spot on the table graph where Transfiguration was easy, and directly underneath that he could see his next class. After that was lunch, and Percy's stomach growled in approaching hunger.

Perhaps his stomach had also been growling at the class that now separated his present place in time from the feeding time known as Lunch. Maybe stomachs had feelings. But thinking this, Percy might have been going crazy. Maybe it was hunger-madness, but of course, he'd been even hungrier in Tartarus, where the only sustenance was fire and insanity was not an option. Tartarus. The word still resonated in his mind, chilling Percy to the bone, and making him shiver in terrifying memory of that accursed place. Images flooded instantly through his mind, impossible to be stopped even by the greatest willpower. The bloody mist of its depths, the ground that seeped the life out of him, and also the hunger (obviously). Percy hadn't ever been as hungry as then, the stomach barely keeping from digesting itself. The stomach cavity devoid of everything except the sickly sweet air of a temple fit for demons.

When the barrage of images dimmed away, he found himself gripping the door frame of which he was about to exit through, knuckles white, realizing this action was the only thing keeping him from toppling over and knocking himself out on the aged tiles of the floor. Sweat beaded his brow. Heavy breaths escaped his lips. He was barely aware of everything else surrounding him, overwhelmed by the blood pumping in his ears. Professor Mcgonagall was narrowing her eyes at Percy. Perhaps it was suspicion, or worry. Or maybe curiosity. However, the tone of her glare was does not matter to you, reader, as it is but a minor detail of this tale. Percy noticed her stare. His face flushed, realizing why she was staring, and he quickly exited the classroom after his fellow pupils. Percy reminded himself that he should try not to trigger any memories of Tartarus ever again. A mental breakdown was high on the list of things Percy should try not to do at this Wizarding School.

Percy was still reflecting on this when he entered the Potions dungeon where his next class was to be held. Unfortunately, he was late. He could swear Kronos was making time go faster to cause Percy as much trouble as possible.

Hogwarts

Nico

Honestly, Nico wasn't sure at all if he wanted to be on this quest. He knew he should've been at Camp Half-Blood, or Camp Jupiter, helping with repairs and bonds between the two camps as an ambassador. Unfortunately, Hecate needed his help. And she wouldn't have taken no as an answer.

Nico really didn't understand why she couldn't have sent her own children to do the job. They would've been more familiar with the wizarding world. But alas, Hecate had her ways. According to her, the wizards needed their assistance in order to keep Harry Potter from ending up in Elysium, or wherever the judges of the underworld decided when he eventually died.

But there was another reason why this quest unsettled Nico. And aura of death surrounded the castle, and, he noticed, was most prominent around Harry Potter. It was subtle, but a child of Hades would be able to notice it easier. It was a certain chill in the air. The staleness of the atmosphere. The feeling of dread like an iron weight in the gut.

Or maybe that was Nico's hunger.

One more hour, he told his stomach. Food Now! It growled back. He sighed and denied his stomach its needs and pushed on through the weaving crowd. Always sure to keep Jason within his sights, he squeezed along on the edge of the hallway, seeing as most people were taking up the middle of the corridor.

Twisting his head around, he glanced back and found Jason stuck behind a group of people, and under further watch, he cursed mentally. He could only see the backs of the group's heads, but that was enough to identify a certain silver-blonde haired individual. It was that kid from when the trio of powerful demigods first stepped off the Hogwarts Express. It was the kid who'd tried to annoy the three, and honestly, when Nico looked back on it, did an inpeccable job.

He could hear the three misfits surrounding Jason while talking amongst themselves. He picked up snippets of sentences such as 'Half-Bloods', and 'impure bloodlines'. Basically the same racket the blonde had been blabbering on about when they first encountered each other. No matter. His words did not matter to them, and insults had even less significance to the three boys, if it is philosophically possible for something to matter to someone a value less than zero. Maybe he was trying to be a bully, but he was more the person who wasted your time constantly attempting (and failing) to torment you.

Of course, however, Nico and Jason had a class to be in, and if they wished not to be scolded by their next period teacher, Blonde Boy (Nico vowed on the River Styx to find more pleasing nicknames for the dude later) and his gang of misfits had to go. Jason could no doubt fend for himself, but Nico was afraid he would use his demigodly abilities. It wouldn't do well to be discovered as children of the Olympians in their first week. This is why the son of the Underworld began to walk back the way he'd came to assist his fellow comrade in the extermination of a particular germ that had found its way into Hogwarts's halls.

"Hey, Malfoy!" He turned to face him. "What is it? Come to save your fellow Unpure? (AN: Split reference, anyone?)

"Come here and fight!" Nico did just that. Jason moved away, unhindered his Malfoy's henchpeople (This should be a word). Nico raised his fists at Malfoy, against his wand. "I see you're a squib then. You Americans are so violent. Pity" All Nico thought was that he should take a nice look at a drakon, then decide if Nico was really being that violent. He didn't even touch him yet!

Malfoy and Nico circled for a moment, enough for Nico to catch a glimpse of Jason raising his eyebrows in question. "This is getting awfully boring." Malfoy chipped in. This needed to be finished already. Nico dropped his fists and moved his mouth next to Malfoy's ear.

"Stay away!" Nico hissed. He was hoping that his famed 'Death Aura' would do something to spook the Blonde Boy. He was right. Malfoy shivered and shoved Nico away, as he was expecting. The blond now looked at Nico and Jason warily. Nico and Jason walked down the hall once again, and Malfoy's friends just let them pass.

BREAKER OF LINES AM I. BREAKER OF LINES AM I.

If Nico had to choose his favorite part of Hogwart's school ground, he supposed it would be the dungeon. Of course, if he told anyone, it would just add to his 'creepy dude' impression. So no one but him knew. The amount of shadows that Nico could disappear through was innumerable and gave him a comforting assurance that if anything should happen, he could easily slip away and meld into the shadows.

Of course, he would've only used his shadow travelling in situations that called for A dire need of transport immediately, seeing as Chiron and Hecate had greatly advised that they should try (Emphasis on try) to blend in and refrain from using their powers in public for the sake of the quest and to avoid any trouble, and if used at all, should be during quest-threatening situations. However, seeing as demigods don't exactly tend to stay out of trouble, Nico figured shadow travelling would be a frequent activity.

But, back to the story at hand, Nico would say his favorite classroom was the potions, for two reasons: a. As I already mentioned, this wing of the castle had significantly more shadowy corners, and more, and b. The professor who taught in this particular classroom reminded Nico so much of himself. The professor seemed to like the dark like Nico, because only half the torches in his classroom were lit, and he stuck to the darker spots. Also, he wore all black clothes, further advocating that he liked the dark. His attitude, however, was not desireable.

It was around the 2 minute mark when a fourteen year old boy with jet black hair and bright sea-green eyes somewhat ran into the room. Scanning the area, looking for an available seat, (or perhaps for Nico Di Angelo and Jason Grace as well) the tardy newcomer locked eyes with Nico (AN: I honestly have no idea how to introduce Percy into a classroom without some sort of incident taking place. Forgive me for the Deja Vu). They had a brief staring contest, both attempting to read the other's eyeballs. In that moment, the guy flashed a scowl, perhaps of recognition, and Nico could swear on the River Styx that he knew the dude. But the memory escaped his grasp, and Nico was groping in the darkness (metaphorically, not literally). He decided to keep a watchful eye on him. It might be the Dark Lord attempting an attack. Or something else.

Then, the man who appeared to be the teacher - Professor Snape - as Nico recalled, called out in a kind of 'I've got you now' tone. "Tardy! Five points from - " He seemed to be deciding whether to say something, but let it go. However he continued to glare at the student.

The student in question replied, "Sorry, lost track of time." But this did not seem like a genuine apology to Nico. Also, the guy was fuelling a glare of his own at the Potion teacher, who looked in both suspicion and annoyance. The students flipped their faces between the two eye duellers, and Nico had to congratulate them on their synchronization. However, the eyeball feud ended just as quickly as it began, as Snape broke off and addressed the class as the new guy slipped into an empty chair in the front of the classroom.

"Welcome to Potions, students. Today, we will be learning about one peculiar potion, however, we will not be brewing anything today, so you can put your petty cauldrons away." The class looked in confusion at each other, none to sure about what was happening today. It was often the case that the brewing of the potions would be too complicated, and they'd fail the lesson. Now that they were being told that nothing of that sort was happening today, they were contently happy. But their mortal brains were still catching up.

Just then, the fastest thinker of the bunch, an auburn haired girl of fourteen chimed up. "No potions, Professor? But we always bre - "

"Silence." Snape interrupted before the sentence could be finished. "Things are as they are. We will only be reading about s potion today. It's too dangerous to make, but it's an important one to know about."

Cliffhangy. Sorry for the 2 years of waiting. This is chapter 5, decided to split it in half while I decide what the freaking potion is actually going to be. Expecto Nexto in 87 years. Just kidding, only in 7. ( I really don't know when I'll be done.) Meanwhile, you can check out my youtube channel at - just kidding. It's too full of memes.