Chapter Text
Percy knew something was wrong the moment he stood in front of the building. Still, he climbed the stairs quickly, trying to stay calm. He slipped the key silently into the lock, opened the door with a soft click, and stepped into a familiar hallway.
He took a deep breath. The hallway wasn't as messy as he had expected.
But he had relaxed too soon—because the real chaos was waiting in the living room.
His stepfather, Paul, was sitting on the couch with a book in his hand. But his eyes were vacant, unfocused. He wasn't reading—just staring, lost in thought. He hadn't even noticed Percy walk in.
"Paul—"
The man looked up, startled. Somehow, a mix of relief and deeper worry crossed his face when he saw Percy.
"Welcome, Percy. Please, sit down."
Percy was starting to feel truly anxious, but he did as Paul asked and sat across from him.
His dyslexia and ADHD always flared up when he was nervous—his legs bouncing, fingers tapping in a steady rhythm.
His mom wasn't home.
And judging by Paul's demeanor, she hadn't just gone out for a walk.
"Did something happen while I was gone? Where's my mom?"
He tried to keep his voice steady, but he couldn't help the edge in it. He hadn't seen his mother in nearly a year. And the last time he had seen her, they'd been in the middle of a war.
After the Titan War ended and Percy thought he could finally go home, he was kidnapped by a maniacal goddess. He spent eight months in an enchanted sleep, then found himself in another war—this time with no memories, completely unaware of how worried his mother must have been.
And now, after everything, he was finally home—but his mother was missing.
"I don't know. I swear I don't know," Paul said, exhaling deeply. He looked like he had aged years in just a few days. "When I got home from school three days ago, all I found was this note—"
Percy snatched the note from his hand and began to read, the letters blurring and dancing around the page thanks to his dyslexia. His mother had written that she had to leave suddenly due to "family matters" and would contact Paul as soon as she could. But that wasn't what made Percy uneasy.
It was the line: There's no need to tell Percy.
First of all, Percy didn't know of any relatives. His mother's entire family had died in a plane crash. And the idea of hiding something from him? That was one of the most suspicious things he'd ever read. Normally, he wouldn't be home for another month, and his mom seemed to be counting on that. Despite this, she'd still warned Paul not to tell him.
"Ugh—" Percy ran a hand over his forehead, overwhelmed. When he finally spoke, his voice was low but sharp: "You don't believe this crap, do you?"
Paul shook his head. "Of course not. I think she was trying to hide something between the lines. If your mom really wanted to convince me, she wouldn't have written something so obviously false."
But that only made things worse.
His mother might be somewhere out there, needing help. And Percy couldn't think of a better reason than himself.
How many enemies could a woman who ran a small café and dreamed of being a writer possibly have?
Well... if you had a demigod son, even a simple question like that had a lot of complicated answers.
Percy couldn't sit still any longer. He started pacing the house, looking for any other clues.
"Paul, did you notice anything strange that day—?"
He called out from the kitchen, but when he didn't hear a response, he walked back to the living room—only to be met with a scene he hadn't expected.
Paul had collapsed on the couch, unconscious, and two women Percy didn't recognize were standing over him.
His hand instinctively reached for his pocket.
The two strangers, who seemed to anticipate the move, instantly raised their wands.
They were dressed in strange clothing that covered their faces and bodies. Their presence felt odd—not monstrous, but definitely not normal.
And they looked too old to be demigods.
When they realized Percy was only holding a ballpoint pen, they hesitated and slowly lowered their wands.
"Don't make any sudden moves," one of them warned.
Percy ignored her. "What did you do to my dad!?"
One of the women glanced at Paul, slumped on the couch. "He just fainted. He's alive."
Though Percy couldn't see her face, he could feel the disdain in her voice. It made his blood boil.
"You'd better be telling the truth."
The woman who had just spoken pulled back her hood, revealing black, curly hair. "Check for yourself—and then back off."
Percy eyed her warily. He didn't want to get close, but this was Paul—the best stepfather he could ever ask for, the only man who had made his mother truly happy. He had to take the risk. And he wasn't afraid of these two.
He stepped forward, swiftly lifted Paul's limp form from the couch, and carried him to another seat farther away.
He was relieved to find that Paul was breathing. That meant he could now focus fully on the real threat.
"Who are you? What are you doing in my house?"
Then, like a bolt of lightning in his mind, a terrifying thought struck him.
"Did you kidnap my mom?"
The black-haired woman turned sharply, hatred flashing in her eyes. "Why would we ever want to kidnap her? That filthy little Squib—"
Her words, dripping with venom, were abruptly cut off by the other woman, still hooded. "Bella!"
Bella didn't continue. "You know I'm not lying, Cis."
'Cis' pulled back her hood, revealing straight brown hair. She shot Bella a disapproving glare before turning to Percy.
"Yes, your mother was kidnapped—but not by us. She was taken by your grandfather's enemies."
Percy blinked. That didn't make any sense.
"What are you talking about? My grandfather died years ago—and he was never the kind of man to have enemies."
Bellatrix burst out laughing so hard that Narcissa had to shush her again.
"Whoever you're talking about," Narcissa said gently, "is not your real grandfather. Please, Perseus, let us tell you the full truth."
Percy flinched at hearing his full name—Perseus—but he didn't argue. Not now. He needed to find out the truth and, more than anything, find his mother.
"We don't have time for this."
"I'll be quick. Just listen carefully," Narcissa said. "Magic and wizards are real. Your mother is a witch, and your real grandfather is one of the most powerful wizards in the magical world. He has many supporters—but also many enemies. People who wanted to hurt him kidnapped your mother. And when he realized you were in danger too, he called you back to protect you—just as he once sent you away to keep you safe."
Percy listened silently, but everything she said only raised more questions. Every time he tried to speak or even think, the thoughts slipped from his mind like water through his fingers. When he tried to focus, his head throbbed. And then... strange sentences appeared in his mind—thoughts that didn't feel like his.
Even if my grandfather never sees me, he's willing to protect me. He must be a good person.
I think I can trust them.
Percy felt sick from the echoing voices in his mind. He staggered back, realizing something was wrong—but not knowing what.
"STOP IT!"
At his shout, the fog in his mind suddenly lifted. Bellatrix took a startled step back, surprise flashing across her face.
Then she smiled—a wide, manic grin. Narcissa looked at her and instantly understood what she was thinking.
This was going to be fun.
And Narcissa... she felt sorry for Percy.