The Half-Blood Witch - 05
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
05
By: Banana Flavored Eskimo
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Harry brandished his wand threateningly at the intruder, his green eyes ablaze with fury. “Hermione is an only child.”
“Yes, well up until three days ago I had been an only child as well yet here I am,” replied Nico with a dark glare.
“Three days ago, Hermione was with us,” growled Ron, his teeth bared aggressively. So help him, if he so much as looked at Hermione in a way he didn’t like, he’d Avada him himself - consequences be damned.
Nico let out a dry laugh, his obsidian gaze turning towards the night sky. “I had forgotten that time passes differently for mortals.”
Harry was tired of his cryptic replies. He had just received one of the greatest highs of his life only to have it taken so ruthlessly away by this psychotic prat. He could care less who he was, but the moment the dark stranger mentioned Hermione all bets were off.
As far as he knew, Hermione was currently nestled safely within the confines of Shell Cottage, pouring over tomes to help research strategies and spells to aide them in their quest to defeat Voldermort.
He and Ron had made absolutely sure that she was completely safe before they had ventured off on their own. She had been adamant at first, but realized that they were steadfast in their resolve and neither wizards would risk her.
She was their everything. Despite what others may think and how they may twist their relationship into something more crude, he, Ron and Hermione knew that the three of them were a unit. They were three parts of a whole and needed one another to be complete.
It was due to this that he and Ron had decided to keep Hermione away from the physical battles as much as they could. They refused to lose her.
The stubborn little witch had not taken their decision lying down and what had ensued was the most intense screaming match between the three of them. It wasn’t until the raven haired wizard had broken down and started to sob did she finally relent.
Harry could not remove the image of her lying so still upon the floor at the Department of Mysteries. He did not want that to happen again.
He had tried to convince Ron to let him go off on his own, but the red head had just stated that he would follow him anyways, so it would be better to at least stick together rather than trail him apart.
Now, he and Ron stood together, their faces a mask of absolute steel as they gazed fiercely upon the unknown young man.
“Talk,” Harry said through clenched teeth as his wand arm trembled with barely constrained rage. “Talk now.”
Nico sneered at the duo in disdain.
Who were they to order him around?
He was the son of the great Lord Hades. He commanded the dead. With a simple wave of his hand, he could send these two spiralling into the deepest depths of Tartarus, but he would not.
Loathe he admit it, he admired their dedication to his sister.
Nico was an excellent judge of character and the two before him were steadfast in their resolve to protect his sibling. He could not - in good conscious - punish them for that.
However, he did not like how they talked about Hermione so easily as if she belonged to them. If anything Hermione was his. She was his by blood and he refused to lose her when he had just found her.
Nico eyed the stick of wood - a wand, his mind supplied - wearily. If these were truly Hermione’s friends as he so believed, then she would be displeased if he harm them, no matter how tempting it may be.
“Hermione is suffering from nightmares.”
Ron cast a careful glance over the dark male. There was something about this stranger that was just off.
Every fiber of his being craved to leave his presence, but he would not. He claimed to know Hermione - even went as far to say that he was her brother - and the red head refused to let something as trivial as nerves best him.
“You claim you’re her brother, but we know that Hermione is an only child.”
“I have no time for this, nor do I have to prove my claim,” Nico hissed impatiently. “My sister is suffering. She thrashes helplessly, crying out as her limbs flail in every direction. If she is not restrained, she will hurt herself.”
Emerald eyes darkened and within three long strides, the wizard was face to face with him. “Where is she?”
“If I take you, there is no guarantee that you can return.”
Nico knew that was a blatant lie, but they did not need to know that. If they were truly Hermione’s friends he had no doubt his father would see to it that they return to the surface world easily, but he wished to know the depths of their dedication to her.
Ron stepped towards them, his face grim. “Take us to her.”
“She’s in the Underworld. Are you sure you wish to go?”
“Take us,” the two said in unison, their answer definite as they gave no thought to anything but their friends safety.
Perhaps they weren’t bad after all. They may need to be educated in their proper place regarding Hermione, but he appreciated their dedication to her. For that, he could give them a modicum of respect.
However, Nico would make sure they understood that Hermione did not belong to them anymore. He had already decided that Hermione was his and the bonds of blood were far stronger than anything they could possibly offer her.
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Upon the edge of his realm rested the entrance to Demos Oneiroi, the land of dreams.
The dark God took in the towering gates of ivory and gold.
Never before had he needed to visit so closely. Gods did not have nightmares, nor did they dream in general. Dreamscapes and night terrors were for mortals.
Due to this, the other Gods had no reason to enter this domain - nor did they want to. To do so would result in being absolutely powerless, for the kingdom of Morpheus was a separate space of reality where even Zeus himself would be as vulnerable as any other mortal.
“What could the mighty Lord Hades possibly be here for I wonder?”
A whimsical voice floated about the silence surrounding him, lifting and falling with each inflection and tone.
“Phantasos,” replied Hades in a smooth drawl.
“Don’t look so excited cousin,” trilled the ever changing voice, his entire form rolling from the darkness and into view.
A wry smile was painted across his thin pink lips as they twisted into a large grin, showcasing a row of ivory teeth. Phantasos had always been in possession of a lanky form, however with his body adorned in a colourful pattern of stripes it only served to make his already long limbs seem endless.
Wiry curls of deep jade adorned his head as a large poets hat with a ridiculous ostrich feather swayed precariously atop his head.
He looked absolutely ludicrous.
Hades was not impressed.
Phantasos had always been an eccentric fellow and always would be.
As the God of fantasy like dreams, he was forever in playful mood as the most bizarre things played out in his dreamscape of absolute nonsense.
“If there is a chicken atop a scroll, do you suppose that the egg it lays will be a tasty little morsel for my pink gazelle?”
The dark God scowled at his words. He had no time for such inane drivel.
“I must see Phoebetar.”
“Goodness me and all of my ice cream flavored socks!”
“Phantasos …” Hades bit out as he glared baefully at the flighty God. He had long ago given up even trying to understand him.
“Pass through, pass through,” sang Phantasos. “To see, to see all of your fears become reality.”
The ivory gate before him swung open with an ominous thud.
Hades stared into the black oblivion before him.
He had no time to waste. Hermione needed him and he would not fail her. He refused to.
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What sort of sick joke were his cousins playing?
Demos Oneiroi was a tricky place. It had no real shape or form, for it could be anything that resided within the minds of mortals.
He had been prepared to be confronted with the most fearsome of creatures and horrible nightmares.
However, he was met with none of the above and instead thrown into a rather plush leather chair with a gaudy zebra print design.
Neon lights raced across the ceiling and walls while scantily clad women with enhancements that could only be thought up in the mind danced before him on an elevated stage.
“Oh hell yes!”
The dark god scowled as he stared at the man sitting next to him getting a rather vigorous lap dance from a woman that looked disturbingly like his precious Persephone.
A growl escaped his throat as he watched hands begin to trace down curves only he had ever had the pleasure of touching to rest firmly upon the smooth skin of her hips.
Sapphire eyes twinkled with thinly veiled amusement as a smirk appeared on his lips.
“Fuck she’s so hot! No wonder you took her for your own,” he said in a voice heavy with lust.
Hades fought to throttle the male.
This was not real.
“But it sure feels real!” he taunted! He cupped a breast firmly. “Want a grope so you can compare?”
The dark God growled as he physically lunged towards the gloating man, prepared to rip him limb from limb, only to find himself sprawled on the ground.
“You should get up.”
Somewhat disoriented from his fall, he rolled rather quickly to avoid being trampled by a crowd of people as they bustled across the wide walkway of what looked to be a busy area in New York city.
Hades stared up at his cousin who looked rather relaxed as he sipped a steaming cup of coffee from his position at a comfortable looking chair of a Starbucks.
“You know? Mortals have it good. What I wouldn’t give for a real Green Tea Latte.”
Pulling himself to the unoccupied seat, Hades sent a dark glare at the other God.
“Oh calm down cousin, I was merely having a bit of fun. Centuries of blood and gore can wear on guy.”
Hades took the time to fully observe the infamous God of Nightmares.
He had most certainly changed from the last time he had seen him. Then again, that was nearly a millennia ago.
He looked disturbingly like a regular young man with his dirty blonde hair and wide sapphire eyes. His smile was absolute bliss as he continued to inhale his drink with a look of absolute euphoria.
“So? Why did you come to visit me?”
Must they really play this game? Phoebetar knew exactly why he was here. As soon as he entered this domain, he had access to his every thought.
“Indulge me cousin,” he said with a wry grin.
“My daughter is having nightmares.”
Phoebetar snorted into his cup. “Because she’s pretty fucked up!”
Hades sneered at his crass words. He was sounding more and more like the decrepit youth of society with each passing moment.
“You’re such a snob,” said Phoebetar. “I’m simply evolving with time. You should try it.”
“Will you be able to help me or am I wasting my time?”
“Well you certainly don’t beat around the bush, but that is what I like about you Hades.”
The dark God didn’t reply and continued to stare at his cousin.
“Hermione needs to talk.”
Lips pulled up into a disdainful sneer and were about to deliver a cutting remark before he found himself laying upon a worn pea green couch with his idiotic cousin sitting in a chair at his side like a poor imitation of Freud.
Scribbling nonsense on a thick pad of paper, Phoebetar lowered his thin wire spectacles and smiled toothily.
“Talking with your daughter will help her push through fears and confront her demons,” he said in a thick German accent.
Hades sat up, glaring darkly at the other immortal. “Do you think we have not tried that? She hasn’t truly woken up yet. How can we speak to her if she’s not even coherent?”
At this Phoebetar’s smile turned feral. “Who said anything about speaking to her in the Underworld?
And suddenly Hades knew what he needed to do.
The question was what he would have to give in return in order to enter Hermione’s nightmare and speak with her subconscious.
“How about a go with your wife?”
This time, Hades was actually able to wrap his hands around his cousin’s neck before he was violently thrown back.
“Chill out cousin. It was just a joke.”
Hades wasn’t amused. If anything, he was even more angry.
“If your wife is off limits, how about Hermione,” he said with a leering grin. “That little girl of yours is sex on legs.”
Again, Hades found himself thrown back violently as he made for another lunge at his cousin.
“Dude,” said Phoebetar, “seeing you smack against that couch will never get old.”
“Phoebetar,” he said warningly.
Make no mistake. He may only be like a mortal in this realm, but he would find a way to drag Phoebetar from Demos Oneiroi and extract his revenge. Slowly.
The other God seemed to sense Hades sinister mood as his smile dropped.
Hades was not someone to mess with and he knew that, but he really couldn’t resist. It had been so long since he had another immortal playmate besides Phatasos - the crazy fucker - and Morpheus - the sanctimonious fucker.
“An unlimited supply of green tea lattes.”
The dark God had been prepared for a plethora of disturbing demands, yet nowhere on his mental list did he include green tea lattes.
“Excuse me?”
“Did I stutter? I want green tea lattes!”
“Did we not just visit a Starbucks?” asked Hades.
Phoebetar sighed. “Hades. This is Demos Oneiroi. I can manipulate this, but you know was well as I that nothing is ever real. I may be able to conjure a very convincing branch of Starbucks and order my own version of ambrosia, but it will never be the genuine article.”
“You want me to be your supplier of green tea lates?”
“You supply me with the goods and I’ll take you to Hermione myself.”
The dark God was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. If his cousin wanted lattes in return for his daughters recovery, he’d give him lattes.
“Very well. I agree.”
“Great, so…”
A dark brow rose as he waited for Phoebetar to voice his obvious question.
“Once Hermione is recovered, do you think she’d be interested in going out for a latte?”
Hades merely clenched his fists in order to curb the urge to throttle his cousin again.
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AN: Review?
- Banana Flavored Eskimo
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