That night, Percy couldn't sleep.
Even after the common room had gone quiet and the fire burned down to gentle coals, his mind refused to let him rest. The ocean's pulse still throbbed inside him, like waves slamming against an invisible shore behind his ribs.
When he finally drifted off, the dreams came instantly.
He was underwater again. The darkness was endless, cold, and thick, pressing against his skin like a second body. Shapes twisted just beyond his sight, vast coils and shifting shadows. He felt as though he was drifting above some enormous trench, so deep it seemed to go all the way to the center of the earth.
Then, a massive golden eye snapped open beneath him.
Percy recoiled in horror, struggling to swim away, but his limbs wouldn't move. A voice echoed through the water, deeper than any whale's song, vibrating in his bones:
"The surface is weak. The gods are fading. I rise, child of the sea."
He tried to shout back, to call for his father, but only bubbles escaped his mouth.
"You will help open the way," the voice continued, "whether you choose to or not."
The trench began to crack open, releasing a glow like molten metal. A monstrous hand began to climb from below. Claws longer than ships, scales that gleamed like moonlit armor.
Percy felt himself being pulled downward, spiraling into the abyss...
He jolted awake, gasping for breath. Sweat soaked his pajamas, and his sheets were twisted into ropes around his legs.
Across the room, Harry sat up abruptly too, clutching his forehead and panting. Their eyes met, and in that moment Percy knew: Harry had seen it too.
"Another vision?" Percy croaked, his throat raw.
Harry nodded. "I think... it's getting closer. Stronger. I saw the same... eye."
Hermione and Ron scrambled over from their beds. Hermione had a quill in hand before she even reached them, scribbling frantic notes on a spare bit of parchment.
"Tell me everything!" she said, her voice high and urgent. "What did you see exactly? Did it say anything new?"
Percy rubbed his face, trying to ground himself in the normalcy of the dorm room. He described the trench, the golden eye, the monstrous hand, every detail burned into his memory. Harry added his fragments, though he kept pausing, rubbing at his scar as if trying to smudge the pain away.
Hermione's eyes grew wider with every word. Finally, she dropped the quill. "This is beyond any curse or connection to Voldemort we've studied before. This is... ancient magic, older than even Hogwarts' founding wards. It's like it's calling to you, Percy. Both of you, really."
Ron sat back, looking pale. "Brilliant. So now we're on the menu of some sea monster and Voldemort. Just fantastic."
Hermione shot him a sharp look. "This isn't a joke, Ron! This is serious! If that creature truly rises, it won't just threaten us. It could threaten the entire wizarding world. Maybe even the Muggle world, too."
Percy felt as if his blood had turned to salt water. The monster's voice still rumbled in his head, each word echoing with the power of a tidal wave.
Harry stood abruptly. "We need to see Dumbledore again. We can't just keep this to ourselves."
Hermione hesitated. "But what if the connection grows stronger each time we think about it? What if we're feeding it?"
They all fell silent. Outside, the first pale light of dawn started to filter through the windows, turning the stone walls a cold grey.
Finally, Percy stood too. "We can't just wait. We go to Dumbledore. Now."
They all dressed quickly, each movement heavy with dread. Percy's wand felt heavier than usual in his pocket, as if it too sensed the looming threat.
The castle was eerily silent as they slipped through the corridors, moving like shadows among the ancient suits of armor and long, echoing hallways. They passed sleeping portraits, their snores rattling against gilded frames.
When they reached the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office, Harry spoke the password "Fizzing Whizzbee" and the stone creature leapt aside.
Inside, they found Dumbledore already awake, standing by the window with his hands clasped behind his back. He turned as they entered, his face grave but not surprised.
"You saw it again," he said softly, before they could speak.
Percy nodded, his mouth dry. "It's getting stronger. It wants me to open the way. It called me 'child of the sea.'"
Harry stepped forward, trembling with anger and fear. "And it keeps saying the surface is weak, that it's coming. We can't stop it alone."
Dumbledore sighed deeply, looking older than they had ever seen him. "I had hoped we might have more time."
He moved toward a tall shelf and pulled out a smaller, leather-bound book, its spine marked with strange runes. Opening it, he showed them a diagram of what looked like a star-shaped seal surrounded by waves.
"This," Dumbledore explained, "is an ancient binding sigil used to restrain entities of great power beneath the sea. It was last employed by a circle of druids and sea witches centuries ago. But even this may not be enough against what you saw."
Hermione leaned in, her fingers trembling as she traced the drawing. "Could we recreate it? Strengthen it somehow?"
Dumbledore nodded slowly. "Perhaps, but it would require immense magical energy, and the cooperation of many powerful witches and wizards. Even then, there is no guarantee."
Percy swallowed. He could feel that monstrous presence pressing against the edges of his mind, like a wave trying to break a dam.
Dumbledore's gaze shifted to Harry. "And you, Harry, your connection to Voldemort complicates this further. If Voldemort senses this creature, he may seek to ally with it, or use its chaos to his advantage."
Ron let out a strangled sound. "Merlin's beard. We really are in deep now."
Dumbledore closed the book with a soft snap. "For now, you must all rest as best you can. We will begin preparing protective wards around the castle immediately. I will also send word to trusted allies in the Ministry and beyond, carefully, discreetly."
Hermione frowned. "But what about the rest of the students? What if it comes while we're here?"
Dumbledore met her gaze, his eyes full of sorrow and quiet strength. "Then we fight. Together."
Percy felt his heart thudding, but something inside him solidified. A cold, fierce resolve. He might be terrified, but he would not run.
As they turned to leave, Percy felt a sudden sharp sting at the back of his mind. A single, echoing word from the creature beneath the waves:
"SOON."
He froze, his hand on the door frame, the echo still vibrating inside his skull.
When he turned to look at Harry, he knew Harry had heard it too.
They exchanged a single, silent nod.
The next morning dawned pale and cold, an unnatural stillness hanging over Hogwarts like a shroud. Students milled about the Great Hall in hushed voices, casting wary glances toward the staff table. The professors sat rigid and tense, each deep in private worry.
Percy felt as if every heartbeat carried a ripple of ocean through his veins. Each time he looked at his reflection, in a goblet of pumpkin juice, in a windowpane, he thought he saw something else behind his eyes, a flicker of deep water and endless dark.
Harry's hand trembled as he spread marmalade over toast, leaving jagged orange streaks. Hermione kept flipping through her notes at the table, her quill moving so fast it was practically a blur. Ron merely picked at his food, muttering about "giant squid and cursed sea gods" under his breath.
Dumbledore had sent for them early. The moment breakfast ended, they slipped away from the crowded hall, ignoring the curious stares of the other students.
Back in his office, Dumbledore looked even more worn. His half-moon spectacles perched precariously on his nose, and his robes seemed to hang heavier than usual.
"Thank you for coming so quickly," he began, gesturing them into seats. Fawkes, his phoenix, let out a soft, melancholy trill from his perch in the corner.
Hermione immediately burst out with questions. "Professor, have you learned anything more about the sigil? Or how to reinforce it? Do we know what exactly is rising?"
Dumbledore raised a hand, silencing her gently. "Miss Granger, patience. There is much we must discuss, and you shall all have your turn."
He drew a map from his robes. An old, yellowing chart of the North Atlantic, filled with strange markings and runes along the edges. In the center, a single black spiral had been inked, surrounded by layered protective symbols.
"This is the original binding site," Dumbledore said solemnly. "It lies deep beneath the Atlantic, beyond the reach of most magic and mortal eyes. The creature you saw in your visions is tied to this location."
Percy's skin prickled. He could almost feel the cold, endless pressure of that trench pulling at him again.
Dumbledore went on, his voice low and grave. "The binding has weakened over centuries, as belief in old magics has faded and the balance of power among gods and monsters has shifted. Now, Voldemort's return and the disturbances in magical energies have accelerated the decay."
Harry gripped the arms of his chair. "So it's my fault too," he said, his voice thick.
"No," Dumbledore said firmly. "This is not your doing, Harry. You may be a piece of this puzzle, but you did not set it in motion."
Hermione leaned forward. "So what can we do? How do we stop it?"
Dumbledore's gaze turned distant, as if he were seeing across oceans and centuries. "We must gather those with ancient ties to the sea. Merfolk, water spirits, druids who still practice the old rites. Their magic, combined with ours, may strengthen the seal."
Percy felt his stomach twist. "And me?" he asked quietly. "Why does it keep calling me 'child of the sea'?"
Dumbledore looked at him with deep sadness and admiration. "Because you are. Your connection to Poseidon gives you a unique ability to influence the currents of fate around this creature. It wants to use you, but that means you might also be able to hold it back."
Silence fell. Percy swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the entire ocean pressing down on his shoulders.
Ron, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, finally blurted, "So... we're going to go looking for sea druids and fish folk? Brilliant. Absolutely mad."
Hermione shot him a look that was half annoyance and half fear. "It's not mad, Ron, it might be the only chance we have. But we'll need to prepare. Research, spells, charms for underwater breathing…"
Dumbledore nodded gravely. "You must all begin your preparations immediately. Classes will continue for now, but be vigilant. There are rumors that Death Eaters have taken an interest in the North Sea. Voldemort may already suspect what lies beneath."
Harry clenched his fists, his green eyes blazing. "Then we'll stop them. We'll stop all of it."
Dumbledore studied him for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Your determination may make all the difference, Harry. But remember: You are strongest together."
A heavy quiet settled in the office. Finally, Dumbledore stood and gestured toward the door. "Go, rest while you can. The days ahead will be long and full of danger."
They left the office in a daze. As they trudged through the halls, Percy felt the stares of the portraits following them. He could almost hear them whispering warnings behind their painted hands.
Once they reached Gryffindor Tower, they collapsed into the common room. The fire crackled, casting shifting shadows on their faces.
Ron flopped onto an armchair and groaned. "We should be worried about Quidditch tryouts and homework, not bloody sea gods!"
Hermione ignored him, already buried in her books. "We need to find a list of druidic covens that still exist. And we'll need merfolk language guides. Oh, and waterproof ink!"
Harry stood near the window, staring out at the Black Lake. The water glittered in the morning light, but it no longer looked inviting. Instead, it felt like a mouth waiting to swallow them whole.
Percy joined him, resting his forehead against the cold glass. "Harry," he said softly, "if it comes down to me... if I have to face it alone..."
Harry turned sharply, his face fierce. "No. We're not leaving you alone. Not ever."
Percy looked at him and managed a small, weary smile. "Thanks. I just... needed to hear that."
Behind them, Hermione suddenly exclaimed, "I found something!" She waved an old, brittle book in the air, her eyes bright with excitement and fear. "There's a mention of a 'Trident Convergence', a ritual that can combine sea magic and wizard magic to strengthen ancient bindings."
Percy's heart jolted. "Where? How?"
Hermione read quickly, flipping pages. "It has to be performed at the original binding site, at the trench. We'll need a focus object, something sacred to Poseidon or an ancient sea spirit."
Ron groaned again, sliding deeper into the armchair. "So now we need a magic seashell or trident, a bunch of chanting druids, and a boat trip to the middle of the Atlantic? Brilliant."
Hermione ignored him. "We have to try. Otherwise, it really will rise."
The fire crackled again, spitting sparks.
In the flickering light, Percy felt a shiver run through him, as if a tide were rolling up his spine. He could almost hear that monstrous voice again — distant, but drawing closer.
"Soon."
To Be Continued...
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