The Half-Blood Witch - 01
Title: The Half-Blood Witch
Series: Harry Potter x Percy Jackson
Main Characters: Hermione Granger and Percy Jackson
Pairings: Hermione x Percy with a very strong and confusing Hermione x Nico flair
Rating: R (most likely will go up)
Genre: Romance, Adventure, Family
Warnings: Limes (mild smut), Coarse language, strong undertones of incest between Gods (meh) and Percy's mouth
Summary: She always knew there was something different about her. Now, Hermione Granger will being to understand what it truly means to be a half-blood.
01
By: Banana Flavored Eskimo
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Her back bowed harshly as his fingers buried themselves into her thick curls as he pulled her head back towards his body.
His hot breath raced along her heated skin as she felt his tongue drag across her sweat slickened flesh. “You taste sweet poppet.”
The young witch cringed as struggled to break free from his unrelenting grasp.
“Now, now poppet. Stop squirming. You’re encouraging me,” he hissed as he crudely ground his hips into the curve of her lower back.
She shuddered as her teeth clenched with disgust. “Filthy bastard.”
“Dolohov, release her.”
Atonin Dolohov looked incredibly reluctant to release the young woman in his grasp, his hips continuing to make slow lazy circles against her lush curves. However, the piercing gaze from his Lord cooled his ardor as he pushed his captive to the ground harshly.
She gasped as she fell to her knees upon the soft wet soil.
“At least she knows her place,” came a crude jeer from the gathered crowd.
A long bony finger gently tilted her head upwards to meet his reddened gaze. “Dear sweet girl. You have grown,” came a pleased hiss.
She jerked from his touch.
That was not the action to take, for his eyes took on a menacing gleam as he practically pulled her small form from the ground and into his arms. Curling his fingers around her throat, he tightened his grasp slowly.
She gasped and chocked for air, her hands clawing at his arms in a vain attempt to remove his hold.
“Such power encased in such an unworthy vessel,” he whispered slowly as his forked tongue danced across her temple.
Her vision began to swim as she felt her body begin to tremble.
“Tell me Hermione. How did a filthy little creature such as yourself become so gifted?”
With that question, he dropped her body to the ground and watched her petite frame crumple to the ground in disgust.
“You’re weak. You’re unworthy and yet you hold so much within you,” he sneered hatefully.
Hermione coughed drawing in gasping breaths as she struggled to gain her breath.
“Careful there Tom. You almost sound jealous,” she panted defiantly. She refused to show him her fear.
Lord Voldermort became livid, his wand making a harsh slashing motion through the air. “Crucio.”
Her back arched from the ground as her arms clawed helplessly at the dirt beneath her and dug into the rich soil. A struggled gasp escaped her lips before she pressed her mouth closed to keep from screaming. She would not give him the satisfaction.
She remembered the pain well. The unrelenting agony that raced through her entire being was multiplied by ten as the master of the Dark Arts subjected her to his merciless curse.
Bellatrix had indeed learned the curse well from her Lord, but she had absolutely nothing on him. The pain he inflicted was unimaginable.
Voldermort laughed at her strength. He both admired and hated that little muggle filth at his feet. To think that the brightest mind of the age was encased within that tiny slip of a witch before him.
“I’m not sure whether to be angry or impressed Miss Granger. Two minutes under my wand and you have yet to make even a sound. Two seconds and even my strongest Death Eaters are begging for mercy,” he commented off-handedly as if he were speaking of the weather.
The witch let out a long breath as she felt the curse lift.
Reddened eyes merely regarded the small witch before him curiously. She was certainly interesting.
“Tell me pet. Where is Potter? Surely he must be nearby. He wouldn’t leave his little muggle filth alone for too long.”
Hermione continued to pant, her heart beating furiously from the after-effects of being Crucioed.
Voldermort merely smirked at her accelerated breathing. “Perhaps you’ll need an incentive?”
“LET ME GO! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!”
Her body jerked to the side, the movement causing a low hiss of pain to escape her lips.
Honeyed eyes widened with horror as she took in her bound mother being restrained by a mocking Bellatrix Lestrange.
“Shhh now mother muggle filth. You’ll make too much noise and disturb my Lord,” the dark haired witch crooned softly with a crazed smile.
“She doesn’t know anything,” gasped Hermione, turning her attention to the snake like features of the Dark Lord.
“An impressive spell pet. Even after I placed your father under the Imperius curse and delved into his weak little mind, I couldn’t find a trace of his true past.”
Hermione took in a deep shuddering breath. “Where is my father?”
“What use was he? He knew nothing. Your mother, on the other hand, seemed to have an interesting bit of resistance to dark curses…”
The young witch struggled to push her body from the floor, but her arms trembled under her weight and she crumpled helplessly to the ground much to the amusement of many present.
Her father.
Her father was dead and now he was holding her mother hostage.
“Leave my mother alone.”
Voldermort merely shook his head. “Pet, must we play this game? It’s rather simple really. You give me Potter. I give you your mother.”
“I give you Harry, you kill my mother and I anyways.”
“PLEASE LET ME GO!”
“Your mother cries out for you mudblood,” Bellatrix sang softly as her nails raked along the elder woman’s throat leaving red welts in their path.
The muggle woman trembled in the arms of her captor, her hazel eyes raking over the weak figure laying at the feet of whom this crazy woman called Lord.
He was a grotesque mockery of a man with red eyes and snake like features. His thin lips pulled back into a feral snarl as he gazed at the fallen young woman at his feet.
Jean Grant was not sure why, but there was something hauntingly familiar about this young stranger. Something within her wanted to reach out and protect this small young woman from harm.
It was odd. Jean did not have children of her own - she couldn’t have children of her own. However, she felt her inherent maternal instincts rear up to shield this child from danger.
Jean wasn’t stupid. She knew she was going to die, but she refused to allow them to hurt this unknown girl further. The thought of this young woman’s death caused a dull ache to race through her body.
Hermione stared up into his unrelenting gaze. “She knows nothing! Leave her be. Please leave her be.”
“Give me Potter.”
“I can’t give you Harry. I don’t know where he is.”
She jerked forwards as she felt his power coil around her body and bring her level with his tall frame.
“You test my patience pet. Give me Potter.”
“I don’t know where Harry is!”
“LEAVE HER ALONE!”
The duo turned their attention to the yell in time to witness the muggle woman throw her head back and deliver a painful head butt to a now howling Bellatrix Lestrange.
The reactions were instantaneous as Hermione felt his magic release her in his shock and she shot towards her mother with newfound strength.
Bellatrix cradled her bloodied jaw, the bruise upon her chin swelling horribly. She hissed as she sent a curse towards the muggle filth that dared to harm her.
“CRUCIO!”
Jean collapsed to the ground, her body shaking in agony.
Hermione let out a scream of rage as she tackled the psychotic Death Eater that held her mother under a curse.
“Avada Kedavra.”
The calm whisper of the killing curse echoed throughout the area as all activity ceased.
The curly haired witch felt her body go slack as she watched her mother’s warm hazel eyes drain of all life.
A harsh pull upon her hair and her head was wrenched towards the imposing figure of the Dark Lord.
“You heartless bastard!” she growled with rage.
“You pushed my hand pet. I-“
“Stop calling me that! I’m not your anything you psychotic megalomaniac!”
Bellatrix screeched upon hearing the slander as she gave another harsh tug upon the thick curls entangled in her grasp. “You dare speak to the Dark Lord in such a manner?!”
“Lord? He is no Lord,” Hermione began lowly. “He’s simply a pathetic man who fears death.”
“Crucio.”
The curse came from Voldermort himself as his reddened gaze seemed to burn with unrestrained hatred as he held the young woman under the painful spell.
Hermione felt her breath leave her body as Bellatrix released the grip she had on her hair and let the small witch fall to the ground. She cackled with delight as she watched her Lord and Master curse the filthy piece of trash that dared to speak to him so crassly.
The pain seared through her body as she felt an agonizing pulse begin to slowly tear the tendrils of her mind apart.
She rolled under the pressure as she fought the curse.
Her body began to tremble as the earth beneath her shuddered and quaked.
Voldermort lifted the curse, his scarlet gaze sweeping the soil beneath him.
Dark cloaked figures began to fall to the ground as the tremors increased with each passing moment.
Bellatrix let out a low hiss as she stared at the convulsing mudblood. “She’s doing this my Lord!”
Voldermort snarled at the young witch as her hands seemed to claw at the ground beneath her and a long wrought out scream emanated from her throat. Just what was she doing and how?
She had no wand and after the several boughts of Crucio she had been inflicted with, she should have been broken by now. Yet, she continued to toss upon the ground as the tremors beneath his feet got more and more violent.
A piercing scream caught his attention as the ground opened beneath a cloaked figure, hellfire spewing from the newly opened crevice.
His followers began to struggle in vain, all attempts at apparation futile within the area. Something was hindering them.
He found he could no apparate himself.
Something was hindering him.
Her.
He watched with morbid fascination as the floor beneath him disappeared, an endless cyclone of fire lapping at his ankles as it blazed a trail across his scaled skin. His reddened gaze went to the shuddering form of one Hermione Granger.
His last thought before he fell into the raging inferno of Hell was that he had underestimated this muggle filth and now she was his damnation.
The same fate followed the remaining Death Eaters as they too met the same fiery fate as their Lord.
During the entire ordeal, Hermione continued to scream and quiver upon the ground, trapped in her own personal war with herself.
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The shift was palpable as the very air upon Olympus seemed to pulse with change.
Zeus - almighty King of the Gods - stood from his seat, his bellow of rage accompanied by darkening clouds and bolts of lightening raining down upon the Earth.
“HADES!”
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He knew something was wrong due to the influx of souls that had plummeted straight to Tartarus.
For such a feat to be accomplished was unheard of. New souls were all judged upon entrance to his dominion by the three judges: Rhadamanthus, Minos, Aeacus, himself and at times, Persephone - when she chose to. It was only fair for all to be weighed justly so that both punishments and rewards could be decided upon.
However, that had not been the case with the last dozen or so souls. They had all plunged to the deepest depths of Tartarus, their eternity to burn forever in the fires of their sins.
As God of the Dead, it was his task to see what had upset the balance in his dominion. Only two beings had such powers: himself and the only other that did was currently in his study reading.
His lips pulled into a slight frown. Nico knew better than to tip the balance, so it could not have been him.
“My Lord Hades.”
“Tisiphone.”
Leathery wings curled around her toned body as deep red eyes stared at her Lord and Master. “My Lord, the Keres have found the source of the disturbance.”
Hades regarded the fury casually, his obsidian gaze taking in her bowed head of ash curls and snarls. “I was not aware that the Keres were sent out to find a disturbance.”
“My Lord, it is a child.”
Hades went still as he felt electric energy of his brother fill the air.
“HADES.”
He let out a gasp as he disappeared with a deafening crack.
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Her body shivered as deep honeyed eyes gazed unseeingly into the heavens above her.
The skies churned as clouds began to gather in the darkened sky, shielding the moon and plunging the land into darkness.
However, she saw none of this as her body continued to spasm uncontrollably.
A soft whimper at her side and the nudge of a wet snout went unanswered as the hellish canine whimpered beside the fallen young woman.
“Return beast.”
A sharp bark answered the dark God’s call as the hound disappeared in a flurry of flames.
He cast a saddened glace at the broken body of the elder woman only a few feet away from him. With a simple wave of his hand, she disappeared from sight.
What had happened?
The dark hovering figure pulled her small frame into his strong embrace. He smoothed out her damp curls as a gloved hand traced her fair skin. “Rest Hermione. I have you now.”
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AN: Again, I'm just cleaning things up.
Review?
Previous Next
Series: Harry Potter x Percy Jackson
Main Characters: Hermione Granger and Percy Jackson
Pairings: Hermione x Percy with a very strong and confusing Hermione x Nico flair
Rating: R (most likely will go up)
Genre: Romance, Adventure, Family
Warnings: Limes (mild smut), Coarse language, strong undertones of incest between Gods (meh) and Percy's mouth
Summary: She always knew there was something different about her. Now, Hermione Granger will being to understand what it truly means to be a half-blood.
01
By: Banana Flavored Eskimo
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Her back bowed harshly as his fingers buried themselves into her thick curls as he pulled her head back towards his body.
His hot breath raced along her heated skin as she felt his tongue drag across her sweat slickened flesh. “You taste sweet poppet.”
The young witch cringed as struggled to break free from his unrelenting grasp.
“Now, now poppet. Stop squirming. You’re encouraging me,” he hissed as he crudely ground his hips into the curve of her lower back.
She shuddered as her teeth clenched with disgust. “Filthy bastard.”
“Dolohov, release her.”
Atonin Dolohov looked incredibly reluctant to release the young woman in his grasp, his hips continuing to make slow lazy circles against her lush curves. However, the piercing gaze from his Lord cooled his ardor as he pushed his captive to the ground harshly.
She gasped as she fell to her knees upon the soft wet soil.
“At least she knows her place,” came a crude jeer from the gathered crowd.
A long bony finger gently tilted her head upwards to meet his reddened gaze. “Dear sweet girl. You have grown,” came a pleased hiss.
She jerked from his touch.
That was not the action to take, for his eyes took on a menacing gleam as he practically pulled her small form from the ground and into his arms. Curling his fingers around her throat, he tightened his grasp slowly.
She gasped and chocked for air, her hands clawing at his arms in a vain attempt to remove his hold.
“Such power encased in such an unworthy vessel,” he whispered slowly as his forked tongue danced across her temple.
Her vision began to swim as she felt her body begin to tremble.
“Tell me Hermione. How did a filthy little creature such as yourself become so gifted?”
With that question, he dropped her body to the ground and watched her petite frame crumple to the ground in disgust.
“You’re weak. You’re unworthy and yet you hold so much within you,” he sneered hatefully.
Hermione coughed drawing in gasping breaths as she struggled to gain her breath.
“Careful there Tom. You almost sound jealous,” she panted defiantly. She refused to show him her fear.
Lord Voldermort became livid, his wand making a harsh slashing motion through the air. “Crucio.”
Her back arched from the ground as her arms clawed helplessly at the dirt beneath her and dug into the rich soil. A struggled gasp escaped her lips before she pressed her mouth closed to keep from screaming. She would not give him the satisfaction.
She remembered the pain well. The unrelenting agony that raced through her entire being was multiplied by ten as the master of the Dark Arts subjected her to his merciless curse.
Bellatrix had indeed learned the curse well from her Lord, but she had absolutely nothing on him. The pain he inflicted was unimaginable.
Voldermort laughed at her strength. He both admired and hated that little muggle filth at his feet. To think that the brightest mind of the age was encased within that tiny slip of a witch before him.
“I’m not sure whether to be angry or impressed Miss Granger. Two minutes under my wand and you have yet to make even a sound. Two seconds and even my strongest Death Eaters are begging for mercy,” he commented off-handedly as if he were speaking of the weather.
The witch let out a long breath as she felt the curse lift.
Reddened eyes merely regarded the small witch before him curiously. She was certainly interesting.
“Tell me pet. Where is Potter? Surely he must be nearby. He wouldn’t leave his little muggle filth alone for too long.”
Hermione continued to pant, her heart beating furiously from the after-effects of being Crucioed.
Voldermort merely smirked at her accelerated breathing. “Perhaps you’ll need an incentive?”
“LET ME GO! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!”
Her body jerked to the side, the movement causing a low hiss of pain to escape her lips.
Honeyed eyes widened with horror as she took in her bound mother being restrained by a mocking Bellatrix Lestrange.
“Shhh now mother muggle filth. You’ll make too much noise and disturb my Lord,” the dark haired witch crooned softly with a crazed smile.
“She doesn’t know anything,” gasped Hermione, turning her attention to the snake like features of the Dark Lord.
“An impressive spell pet. Even after I placed your father under the Imperius curse and delved into his weak little mind, I couldn’t find a trace of his true past.”
Hermione took in a deep shuddering breath. “Where is my father?”
“What use was he? He knew nothing. Your mother, on the other hand, seemed to have an interesting bit of resistance to dark curses…”
The young witch struggled to push her body from the floor, but her arms trembled under her weight and she crumpled helplessly to the ground much to the amusement of many present.
Her father.
Her father was dead and now he was holding her mother hostage.
“Leave my mother alone.”
Voldermort merely shook his head. “Pet, must we play this game? It’s rather simple really. You give me Potter. I give you your mother.”
“I give you Harry, you kill my mother and I anyways.”
“PLEASE LET ME GO!”
“Your mother cries out for you mudblood,” Bellatrix sang softly as her nails raked along the elder woman’s throat leaving red welts in their path.
The muggle woman trembled in the arms of her captor, her hazel eyes raking over the weak figure laying at the feet of whom this crazy woman called Lord.
He was a grotesque mockery of a man with red eyes and snake like features. His thin lips pulled back into a feral snarl as he gazed at the fallen young woman at his feet.
Jean Grant was not sure why, but there was something hauntingly familiar about this young stranger. Something within her wanted to reach out and protect this small young woman from harm.
It was odd. Jean did not have children of her own - she couldn’t have children of her own. However, she felt her inherent maternal instincts rear up to shield this child from danger.
Jean wasn’t stupid. She knew she was going to die, but she refused to allow them to hurt this unknown girl further. The thought of this young woman’s death caused a dull ache to race through her body.
Hermione stared up into his unrelenting gaze. “She knows nothing! Leave her be. Please leave her be.”
“Give me Potter.”
“I can’t give you Harry. I don’t know where he is.”
She jerked forwards as she felt his power coil around her body and bring her level with his tall frame.
“You test my patience pet. Give me Potter.”
“I don’t know where Harry is!”
“LEAVE HER ALONE!”
The duo turned their attention to the yell in time to witness the muggle woman throw her head back and deliver a painful head butt to a now howling Bellatrix Lestrange.
The reactions were instantaneous as Hermione felt his magic release her in his shock and she shot towards her mother with newfound strength.
Bellatrix cradled her bloodied jaw, the bruise upon her chin swelling horribly. She hissed as she sent a curse towards the muggle filth that dared to harm her.
“CRUCIO!”
Jean collapsed to the ground, her body shaking in agony.
Hermione let out a scream of rage as she tackled the psychotic Death Eater that held her mother under a curse.
“Avada Kedavra.”
The calm whisper of the killing curse echoed throughout the area as all activity ceased.
The curly haired witch felt her body go slack as she watched her mother’s warm hazel eyes drain of all life.
A harsh pull upon her hair and her head was wrenched towards the imposing figure of the Dark Lord.
“You heartless bastard!” she growled with rage.
“You pushed my hand pet. I-“
“Stop calling me that! I’m not your anything you psychotic megalomaniac!”
Bellatrix screeched upon hearing the slander as she gave another harsh tug upon the thick curls entangled in her grasp. “You dare speak to the Dark Lord in such a manner?!”
“Lord? He is no Lord,” Hermione began lowly. “He’s simply a pathetic man who fears death.”
“Crucio.”
The curse came from Voldermort himself as his reddened gaze seemed to burn with unrestrained hatred as he held the young woman under the painful spell.
Hermione felt her breath leave her body as Bellatrix released the grip she had on her hair and let the small witch fall to the ground. She cackled with delight as she watched her Lord and Master curse the filthy piece of trash that dared to speak to him so crassly.
The pain seared through her body as she felt an agonizing pulse begin to slowly tear the tendrils of her mind apart.
She rolled under the pressure as she fought the curse.
Her body began to tremble as the earth beneath her shuddered and quaked.
Voldermort lifted the curse, his scarlet gaze sweeping the soil beneath him.
Dark cloaked figures began to fall to the ground as the tremors increased with each passing moment.
Bellatrix let out a low hiss as she stared at the convulsing mudblood. “She’s doing this my Lord!”
Voldermort snarled at the young witch as her hands seemed to claw at the ground beneath her and a long wrought out scream emanated from her throat. Just what was she doing and how?
She had no wand and after the several boughts of Crucio she had been inflicted with, she should have been broken by now. Yet, she continued to toss upon the ground as the tremors beneath his feet got more and more violent.
A piercing scream caught his attention as the ground opened beneath a cloaked figure, hellfire spewing from the newly opened crevice.
His followers began to struggle in vain, all attempts at apparation futile within the area. Something was hindering them.
He found he could no apparate himself.
Something was hindering him.
Her.
He watched with morbid fascination as the floor beneath him disappeared, an endless cyclone of fire lapping at his ankles as it blazed a trail across his scaled skin. His reddened gaze went to the shuddering form of one Hermione Granger.
His last thought before he fell into the raging inferno of Hell was that he had underestimated this muggle filth and now she was his damnation.
The same fate followed the remaining Death Eaters as they too met the same fiery fate as their Lord.
During the entire ordeal, Hermione continued to scream and quiver upon the ground, trapped in her own personal war with herself.
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The shift was palpable as the very air upon Olympus seemed to pulse with change.
Zeus - almighty King of the Gods - stood from his seat, his bellow of rage accompanied by darkening clouds and bolts of lightening raining down upon the Earth.
“HADES!”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He knew something was wrong due to the influx of souls that had plummeted straight to Tartarus.
For such a feat to be accomplished was unheard of. New souls were all judged upon entrance to his dominion by the three judges: Rhadamanthus, Minos, Aeacus, himself and at times, Persephone - when she chose to. It was only fair for all to be weighed justly so that both punishments and rewards could be decided upon.
However, that had not been the case with the last dozen or so souls. They had all plunged to the deepest depths of Tartarus, their eternity to burn forever in the fires of their sins.
As God of the Dead, it was his task to see what had upset the balance in his dominion. Only two beings had such powers: himself and the only other that did was currently in his study reading.
His lips pulled into a slight frown. Nico knew better than to tip the balance, so it could not have been him.
“My Lord Hades.”
“Tisiphone.”
Leathery wings curled around her toned body as deep red eyes stared at her Lord and Master. “My Lord, the Keres have found the source of the disturbance.”
Hades regarded the fury casually, his obsidian gaze taking in her bowed head of ash curls and snarls. “I was not aware that the Keres were sent out to find a disturbance.”
“My Lord, it is a child.”
Hades went still as he felt electric energy of his brother fill the air.
“HADES.”
He let out a gasp as he disappeared with a deafening crack.
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Her body shivered as deep honeyed eyes gazed unseeingly into the heavens above her.
The skies churned as clouds began to gather in the darkened sky, shielding the moon and plunging the land into darkness.
However, she saw none of this as her body continued to spasm uncontrollably.
A soft whimper at her side and the nudge of a wet snout went unanswered as the hellish canine whimpered beside the fallen young woman.
“Return beast.”
A sharp bark answered the dark God’s call as the hound disappeared in a flurry of flames.
He cast a saddened glace at the broken body of the elder woman only a few feet away from him. With a simple wave of his hand, she disappeared from sight.
What had happened?
The dark hovering figure pulled her small frame into his strong embrace. He smoothed out her damp curls as a gloved hand traced her fair skin. “Rest Hermione. I have you now.”
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AN: Again, I'm just cleaning things up.
Review?
- Banana Flavored Eskimo
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