Chapter Text
London is massive. I’ve been here for 3 hours now, wandering aimlessly, unsure of my purpose. Nico shadow travelled me here, since it was the quickest way. It took us a couple stops and some McDonalds, but we made it. Then of course, he had to go back to New York.
All the demigods are on different quests right now, with our world going to shit as it has been. Since the start of August, Greek monsters that were killed recently have been popping back up – but not just in New York. They’ve been everywhere. Even some have been sighted here in London, and they’re attacking mortals and demigods alike. It’s a mystery to us as to why it’s happening, but either way, it’s bad.
Annabeth is in San Francisco with her dad. He was attacked last week, but managed to escape with only a few cuts. I’d wanted to go with her, but then a bronze bull wreaked havoc in the suburbs of New York, so I stayed. She’s monitoring San Francisco now, watching for more monsters while she checks on her dad. Nico and Will are back in New York, shadow-travelling around and healing mortals and demigods. Grover is rounding up satyrs across the country, checking for more monster sightings and making a map of all the places that have been attacked. Even Clarisse and her crew are busy, doing some sort of hunt for a rogue hydra spotted in Los Angeles. Everyone at Camp Jupiter is pretty busy too, with Reyna having been attacked last week by a gorgon that was on the camp border. She’s okay now, but everyone was really rattled. Frank had to take all the authorial charges, Jason by his side to help. Piper and Hazel had been helping Annabeth, but I think that they are back at Camp Jupiter now, helping the boys.
Leo is who knows where, if I’m being honest. He’s always somewhere new, that kid. I think Calypso is still off trying to get her magic back to its previous standards, but maybe they’re together.
Anyways, back to London. Chiron sent me here, promising it’ll be a short quest to find a “suspicious creature” which was spotted prowling the streets last night. I’ve yet to run into it, and now I’m starving from walking around. I don’t know where the nearest bathroom is, let alone a restaurant, so I finally cave in to my needs and decide to approach someone to ask for directions.
I spot a boy, maybe 16 or 17, walking down the streets past me, looking exactly like he knows where he’s going. I approach him cautiously, in case he’s secretly the “suspicious creature” I’m here to hunt. Doubt it, though.
“Hey,” I call out. He turns to see me, his expression turning from defensive to smiling.
“Hey.”
“Um, so I’m super lost,” I laugh. “Could you tell me where the hell I am?”
“London, mate,” he snorts.
“Yeah, I got that.”
“Where’ ya trying to go?”
“Ummm…” I hesitate. “Not really sure about that. Maybe a busy street?” That seems to be where the monsters like to attack, for whatever reason.
“Alright then,” he laughs. “I mean, I’m heading to a semi-busy street, if you want to follow me?”
“Sure, thanks so much,” I say, falling into step with him. “I’m Percy.”
“I’m Harry. Are you American?” He pushes his glasses back up onto his nose, the round frames suiting his face nicely. His hair is messy and frizzy, but under it, on his forehead, I can see the tip of the scar. It looks kind of painful, even though it’s faded. I don’t comment on it, though, thinking that would be rude.
“Is it that obvious?” I joke. “Other than the fact that I’m completely lost, how could you tell?”
“Your accent, mate,” he snorts.
“Right.” We turn down an alleyway, and I glance around nervously. I reach in my pocket instinctively, feeling for Riptide. I clutch it tightly, ready for anything.
“Don’t worry, it’s just a shortcut,” he says, sensing my unease. I smile lightly, but when I see three figures coming from the other direction, I tense. As they approach, though, Harry’s the one who freezes.
“Potter!” The boy in the middle says loudly, the word coming out more like “Pottah”, with his accent. “What a nice surprise,” he says. He has blond hair that’s parted in the middle neatly and he’s wearing strange black robes that seem straight out of the 1800s or something like that.
Harry glares at him.
“C’mon,” he mutters under his breath to me. We continue walking, but the boy isn’t done.
“Busy getting ready for this year, Potter? I’m surprised they even allowed you back in Hogwarts, if I’m being honest. They ought to have expelled you. Well, it’s all the better, I can teach you a lesson in Quidditch soon enough.” His eyes narrow as he finally notices me. “Who’s the muggle?”
Muggle? That feels like an insult.
“Leave him alone, Malfoy,” Harry says sternly, stepping between the boy and me and pulling what looks like a stick out of his pocket.
“Oh, I’m so scared,” Malfoy sneers. “Poor little Potter, who faints at dementors, is going to hex me!”
“Shut your mouth, Malfoy.”
“Do it for me, will you? Then you’ll really get expelled!” He laughs and pulls out a stick of his own, his eyes glinting with mischief. “You’re all buddy-buddy with the filthy muggles, are you now?”
“Um. Malfoy,” One of the other boys says quietly. “You’ll get expelled too, if you use magi-”
“Shut it, Goyle,” Malfoy snaps at the boy, turning back to Harry and me. He points the stick, which I’m now realizing is a wand, in Harry’s face. “Let’s have a little fun, shall we?”
Not on my watch.