The surface felt alien after the depths of Thalassopolis. As they rose through the magically parted sea, the waves closed behind them, sealing the city in a shimmer of moonlit foam. Percy climbed over the rocks first, hauling Harry and Hermione after him. All three of them collapsed on the pebbled shore, gasping for air as if they'd been reborn.
Hermione shivered, staring out at the dark ocean. Her eyes, once filled with a fierce determination, looked haunted now. She was still muttering bits of the ancient language under her breath, as if trying to make sense of the fragments left inside her head.
Harry sat next to her, absently rubbing his scar. It had stopped bleeding but left an angry red welt across his forehead. His eyes were unfocused, clearly still reeling from the visions he'd seen below.
Percy pushed himself upright and looked down at his hands. When he flexed them, tiny swirls of salt water dripped between his fingers. His connection to the sea felt stronger than ever, like a new, raw nerve that hadn't stopped tingling since the moment he touched the throne. He knew deep down he was different now, and there would be no going back.
They sat there for a long time in silence. The moon drifted higher, a pale guardian above them, before Percy finally spoke.
"We have to get back to Hogwarts," he said, his voice hoarse. "We need Dumbledore's help. And maybe, maybe even the gods'. This is too big for us alone."
Hermione looked up sharply. "The gods? You mean your father? Poseidon?" Her voice trembled at the thought. Until now, Percy's divine heritage had been an intriguing detail, a myth come to life. Now it felt like a thin barrier between them and something colossal.
Percy nodded. "Poseidon would know more about these deep forces, about the Sleeper. But even he might not be able to stop it alone. We have to try."
Harry stood, swaying a little. "We'll need to sneak back into Hogwarts. We've already missed dinner and curfew. If we get caught…"
Hermione snorted, her voice returning to its normal crispness. "After what we just did, detention sounds like a holiday."
They gathered their gear, each movement stiff and wary. Percy helped Hermione up, steadying her when she stumbled. Even now, with the ocean power surging in him, he felt fragile, like the wrong move might crack him open and spill that power across the beach.
They trudged through the silent night toward the edge of the Hogwarts grounds. The castle lights twinkled in the distance, warm and inviting despite the darkness. Percy felt an unexpected rush of relief at the sight. It was a fortress of books, laughter, and warmth, so starkly different from the cold abyss they had just escaped.
As they neared the castle, they moved cautiously along the outer walls, ducking under archways and sliding behind hedges. The wind rustled through the hedgerows, and every gust made them jump, expecting to see a watchful eye or a lurking shadow.
Finally, they slipped in through a narrow side door Hermione had unlocked with a whispered charm. The corridors were empty, echoing slightly with the low creaks of the ancient stones. They crept past suits of armor and dozing portraits, careful not to draw attention.
When they finally reached the Gryffindor common room entrance, Hermione whispered the password ("Daring Starfish," chosen by Percy as a joke) and the portrait swung open. The room inside was dimly lit, embers glowing in the fireplace. They staggered in and collapsed into the nearest chairs.
Ron was there, pacing in front of the hearth. He spun around when he heard them, his face going pale with shock. "Where in Merlin's name have you been? I thought you were dead! McGonagall almost sent an entire search party!"
Hermione raised her hand weakly. "Later, Ron. Please."
Percy sank into a couch, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "We found Thalassopolis. We fought… something. We barely closed it in time."
Ron stared at him, mouth agape. He tried to speak but only managed a choked noise. Finally, he stumbled over and grabbed Harry by the shoulders, checking for injuries.
Harry gave him a weary smile. "I'm fine. We all are. Just… not the same."
Hermione pulled out a stack of parchment and started scrawling notes furiously, as if she feared the language fragments would disappear if she didn't capture them immediately.
Ron finally sank into an armchair, shaking his head. "You lot are insane. Completely, absolutely mad."
Percy almost laughed. He looked around at his friends: Harry, pale but unwavering; Hermione, focused and unyielding even in pain; and Ron, terrified but loyal to the end. They were cracked, yes, but the cracks let through a strange, stubborn light.
Suddenly, the common room door swung open, and Professor McGonagall entered, her robes billowing, eyes flashing with fury.
"Mr. Potter! Miss Granger! Mr. Jackson! You are in violation of at least twenty school rules!" She looked around, her gaze softening slightly as she took in their battered appearance. "But… are you harmed?"
Harry stood shakily. "We're fine, Professor. But we need to talk to Dumbledore immediately. It's urgent."
McGonagall regarded them, her lips pressed into a thin line. After a tense moment, she nodded sharply. "Very well. Come with me."
As they followed her into the quiet halls, Percy felt something stir deep inside him. A tug, like a tide pulling at his bones, urging him to keep going, to dive deeper. He didn't know if it was his father's influence or something darker left by the Sleeper, but he knew one thing for certain: this was far from over.
When they reached the Headmaster's office, the stone gargoyle leapt aside at McGonagall's command. The spiral staircase rose before them, twisting into shadow.
Percy paused at the bottom step and looked back at his friends. "Ready?" he asked, though the answer was obvious.
Hermione raised her wand. Harry adjusted his glasses and nodded. Ron swallowed hard but stepped forward without hesitation.
Together, they climbed into the unknown.
The staircase seemed to stretch endlessly, winding up and up until the four of them felt dizzy from the climb. Each step groaned beneath them as if the castle itself sensed their urgency. Percy could feel the pulse of the sea still thrumming in his veins, every heartbeat echoing like a distant wave crashing against stone.
When they finally reached the top, the door to Dumbledore's office swung open before they even knocked. The Headmaster stood behind his desk, robes shimmering in the soft glow of dozens of floating candles. His eyes, bright as ever behind half-moon spectacles, fixed on them immediately.
"Come in," he said gently, though his voice carried an undercurrent of steel. "I have been expecting you."
They filed in, hesitant and exhausted. Hermione stumbled slightly as she stepped forward, and Percy caught her arm to steady her. Harry stepped up beside Dumbledore's desk, his expression grave.
Dumbledore motioned them to sit. Fawkes, the phoenix, watched them from his perch with an almost knowing sadness, feathers shimmering like live flames.
"Tell me everything," Dumbledore said, folding his hands. "From the beginning."
It took a while. Hermione did most of the talking at first, her voice quick and clipped, detailing every glyph, every puzzle in the temple. Percy added descriptions of the magical currents, the pull of the sea, the feel of the throne. Harry's contributions were more hesitant, as if he was trying to avoid revisiting the memory of the vision that had shaken him to his core. Ron mostly stared at his shoes, only chiming in with the occasional incredulous interjection.
When they described the Sleeper, Dumbledore's eyes darkened. He looked older than they had ever seen him, as though each word weighed him down further. By the time they finished, a heavy silence settled over the room.
Finally, Dumbledore spoke. "The Sleeper... I feared it might be more than just an ancient myth." He rose and walked to a high shelf, pulling down a thick, ancient-looking tome. The cover was covered in deep cracks, and the title was faded beyond recognition.
"This," he said, opening the book carefully, "is one of the oldest records we have of deep-sea magic, older than Hogwarts, older than the Ministry, perhaps even older than the Olympians themselves. It speaks of a primordial being, one that sleeps beneath the deepest trenches, waiting for the world above to weaken so it may rise."
Hermione leaned forward, her eyes hungry for the knowledge despite her obvious exhaustion. "Can it be stopped?"
Dumbledore looked at her gravely. "It can be delayed. Bound. But truly destroyed? That is... uncertain."
Percy felt his gut twist. He could still feel that thing stirring under the sea, like a distant echo rattling his ribs. He thought of Poseidon, of his father's realm, and wondered how even a god would face something so ancient.
Harry looked up sharply. "My scar... it reacted to it. I think the Sleeper is somehow connected to Voldemort's return."
Dumbledore nodded slowly. "That is likely. Dark forces often find ways to awaken each other. Voldemort may not even fully understand what he's stirring."
Hermione shuddered. "We need to warn the others. The Ministry, the Order, everyone."
Dumbledore raised a hand. "And cause widespread panic? The Ministry is already fragile. The last thing we need is chaos. We must act carefully and quietly, at least for now."
Ron finally found his voice. "So what are we supposed to do? Just... wait?"
Dumbledore closed the ancient book with a soft thud. "No. We prepare. You four are already connected to this. You have seen what most cannot. You must continue to learn and strengthen yourselves, for there may come a time when you alone can act."
Percy felt the weight of those words settle on him like an anchor. He looked at his friends, seeing mirrored fear and determination in their faces. This was no longer about finishing the school year or passing exams. They had crossed into something much older and far more dangerous.
Dumbledore moved closer to them, his blue eyes suddenly piercing. "Percy, you especially. You carry the ocean's legacy in your veins. The Sleeper may reach for you first. You must remain vigilant."
Percy swallowed, his mouth dry as sand. He thought of his mother, of Poseidon, of the mortal world that he had only recently begun to feel at home in. He nodded, though every part of him screamed to run far away.
Dumbledore turned to Harry next. "And you, Harry, must guard your mind. The connection between you and Voldemort may become an open door, one he could use to influence you, or worse."
Harry clenched his fists but nodded. He knew the price of hesitation all too well.
Hermione sat back, looking as though she might faint from the sheer magnitude of it all. She gathered the notes she had scribbled on parchment and clutched them to her chest like a shield.
Dumbledore finally sighed. "Rest for tonight. Tomorrow, we will discuss our next steps. You are children, yes, but you have proven to me, and to the world, that you are far more than that."
He walked them to the door, his hand resting gently on each of their shoulders as they passed. In that small gesture, there was kindness, and also a silent promise that they would not face the coming storm alone.
As they walked back through the castle's moonlit corridors, none of them spoke. Each footstep echoed, reminding them that while Hogwarts still stood safe and warm for now, the shadows beneath the waves were stirring.
Percy felt that pulsing tug again, the ocean calling him, almost singing to him in some forgotten tongue. He clenched his fists and forced himself to keep moving forward.
Harry's scar gave a sharp twinge, and he winced. Hermione's fingers traced the edges of her parchment, her mind clearly running wild. Ron glanced at them all, then muttered, "We're bloody mental for doing this, aren't we?"
Percy managed a weak laugh. "Yeah. But I guess we're in it now."
They finally reached the portrait hole. The Fat Lady yawned, squinting at them. "Out late again, are we? Tsk. You'll be the death of me."
They stepped inside, and the common room glowed like an ember, familiar and comforting despite everything. Percy stopped, looking back at the window, the moon hanging over the Forbidden Forest like a watchful eye.
Something told him this was only the beginning.
And somewhere, far beneath the sea, a shadow turned in its sleep.
To Be Continued...
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