For the first time in weeks, Hogwarts felt like Hogwarts again. No crashing waves, no collapsing temples, no ominous whispers in forgotten languages. Just the ordinary chaos of castle life: clattering silverware in the Great Hall, portraits bickering in the corridors, Peeves dumping inkpots on unsuspecting second-years.
Percy had to admit, it was nice.
He sat at the Gryffindor table between Harry and Ron, a steaming plate of sausages in front of him, when Ron elbowed him hard enough to nearly knock over his pumpkin juice.
"Watch this," Ron whispered, grinning.
On the far end of the table, Fred and George were waving their wands over a stack of toast. One by one, the pieces flapped into the air like butterflies and buzzed around the heads of the Ravenclaws. A few shrieks and laughs echoed through the hall before Professor McGonagall's sharp voice cut through:
"Mr. Weasley. Mr. Weasley. Sit down this instant!"
The toast collapsed mid-flight, falling onto heads and laps. Ron snorted into his juice.
Percy shook his head, though he couldn't help a small smile. "Your brothers are going to get banned from meals one day."
"Eh," Ron said with a shrug. "Worth it."
Harry chuckled, but his eyes kept flicking toward the Slytherin table. Malfoy was there, smirking at something Crabbe said, but Harry wasn't paying attention to him. He seemed lost in thought, the same way he had been ever since the temple.
Percy caught it but didn't push. He knew what it was like to carry something too heavy to talk about.
Later that morning, the Gryffindors filed into Charms. Professor Flitwick stood on his stack of books at the front, beaming as usual.
"Today, class, we'll be practicing the Summoning Charm, Accio!"
Hermione's hand shot into the air before he'd finished speaking. Flitwick chuckled and gestured to her.
"Yes, Miss Granger?"
"Sir, the Summoning Charm allows the caster to bring objects to them, even from a great distance, as long as they are clear in their intention," she rattled off.
"Five points to Gryffindor! Exactly right. Now, wands out, everyone!"
Percy stood beside Ron, wand at the ready. He muttered under his breath, "Accio quill."
To his amazement, his quill zoomed straight into his hand. Too fast. It jabbed him in the forehead before he caught it.
Ron snorted. "Careful, mate, or you'll end up speared."
Across the room, Harry was struggling. His quill wobbled halfway toward him before sputtering back onto his desk. Hermione, of course, had summoned hers perfectly, twice, and was already helping Neville.
Then Percy made the mistake of trying it again. Except this time, his magic surged harder than he meant.
"Accio—"
Before he finished, every quill in the classroom jerked into the air and hurtled toward him like a storm of feathery darts. Percy yelped and ducked, covering his head as Ron howled with laughter.
Flitwick squeaked in alarm. "Mr. Jackson! Control your focus!"
Quills bounced off desks, ink bottles toppled, and Seamus ended up with one stuck in his hair. By the time the chaos settled, Percy was red-faced, muttering apologies as Flitwick restored order with a flick of his wand.
Hermione leaned over, whispering, "You're going to have to get a handle on that. Your magic isn't… normal."
Percy sighed. "Don't I know it."
After classes, the four of them wandered down to the Black Lake. The sun was unusually bright, glittering off the surface of the water. Students lounged along the banks, books open but mostly forgotten.
Ron skipped a stone across the lake. "Bet I can get it farther than you, Percy."
Percy smirked. "You sure you want to make that bet?"
He flicked his wrist. The stone skipped once, twice, three times, then suddenly shot forward as though propelled by something beneath the surface. It bounced nearly a dozen times before vanishing into the distance.
Ron's jaw dropped. "That's cheating!"
"Hey," Percy said, grinning, "I didn't even use magic."
Harry chuckled. "No, just your other kind of magic."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, you two. It's supposed to be relaxing out here."
Still, there was laughter in her voice.
For a while, they just sat. Harry lay back on the grass, staring at the clouds. Hermione read a book but didn't seem to turn the pages often. Ron kept trying and failing to match Percy's stone-skipping.
It was… normal. Something all of them needed.
That evening at dinner, the chatter in the hall was lively. The Hufflepuffs were buzzing about a mishap in Herbology, where an entire greenhouse had been filled with runaway vines. The Slytherins were boasting about a new broom someone's uncle had bought.
Dean Thomas leaned over from further down the Gryffindor table. "Oi, Percy, someone said you summoned every quill in Charms today. That true?"
Ron snorted. "Not just quills. Nearly summoned half the classroom."
There was laughter up and down the table. Percy groaned and dropped his head into his hands.
"Better than setting off fireworks in Potions," Seamus called down cheerfully.
"Or falling into Devil's Snare," Neville added with surprising boldness.
The teasing was good-natured, and Percy found himself smiling despite his embarrassment. Maybe, just maybe, Hogwarts was starting to feel like home.
That night in the common room, Harry and Ron were playing wizard chess while Hermione scribbled notes beside the fire. Percy leaned against the arm of a chair, watching.
Ron was crushing Harry, of course. "Knight to E5, checkmate!" he crowed.
Harry groaned. "Why do I even bother?"
Percy laughed. "Glutton for punishment?"
Suddenly, Crookshanks leapt onto the board, scattering pieces. Ron shouted, Hermione scolded, and Harry just smirked as his defeated king scampered off the table.
"Looks like I win after all," Harry said.
It was silly, and small, but Percy felt the tension in his chest ease.
Later, when everyone else had gone to bed, he sat awake a little longer, staring into the fire. His powers still buzzed restlessly under his skin, stronger than ever. But here, surrounded by friends and laughter, it didn't feel so heavy.
For the first time since the temple, Percy let himself breathe.
For nearly a week, life at Hogwarts continued in its strangely peaceful rhythm. Percy was starting to believe, almost, that the temple might remain just another bizarre adventure tucked behind them.
Classes carried on. Ron grumbled about homework. Hermione practically buried herself in Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, scribbling furiously whenever she thought nobody was looking. Harry trained on the Quidditch pitch, the wind whipping through his hair, though Percy noticed his eyes always drifted back toward the horizon, like he was listening for something only he could hear.
But beneath it all, there were signs. Small things. Quiet things.
It started in the library.
Hermione was supposed to be tutoring Neville in Charms, but when Percy and Harry found her, she had three massive tomes open on the table, parchment scattered like fallen leaves. The air smelled faintly of dust and ink.
"Hermione?" Harry asked, sliding into the chair beside her. "You've been here all day."
She didn't look up. Her quill was moving furiously. "I've been… remembering things."
"From the temple?" Percy asked carefully.
At that, she glanced at him. Her eyes were sharp, restless. "Yes. Fragments. The symbols on the walls, they weren't just decorative. They were words. Instructions."
Harry frowned. "What kind of instructions?"
Hermione hesitated. Her voice lowered. "Bindings. Rituals meant to keep something sealed away. But part of it wasn't finished. It was broken."
A chill crept over Percy. He remembered the collapse of the temple, the roar of water, the way his powers had surged after.
"You think whatever was sealed there… isn't anymore?" Percy asked.
Hermione didn't answer directly. She tapped her parchment. "The fragments in my head, they don't fit together neatly. But they keep repeating one phrase. Something about 'the Sleeper in the Deep.'"
The words seemed to thrum through the library air, colder than the draft sneaking through the old windows.
Harry swallowed. "That's what I saw. In the vision. A shadow rising under the water. Like it was… waking up."
None of them spoke for a moment. The quiet was filled only by the rustle of Madam Pince turning pages at the front desk.
The next day, during Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Lupin led the class through counter-curses. Percy was partnered with Ron, while Harry and Hermione paired up nearby.
Lupin moved through the classroom, offering corrections with his usual calm patience. But when he passed by Percy, he paused.
"Your magic feels… different," Lupin murmured softly, so only Percy could hear.
Percy stiffened. "Different how?"
"Like the tide." Lupin's brow furrowed slightly. "Stronger than before. Wilder."
Percy's grip on his wand tightened. "And if I can't control it?"
Lupin's eyes were kind but serious. "Then it will control you."
Before Percy could respond, Ron muttered, "Oi, Percy, help me with this counter-curse, will you?"
The moment passed, but the words lingered.
That night, Harry couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned in his four-poster bed until he finally gave up and padded down into the common room. To his surprise, Percy was already there, sitting in the armchair closest to the dying fire.
"You too?" Harry asked, sitting opposite.
Percy nodded. "Dreams again?"
Harry's jaw clenched. "It wasn't a dream. It was the same vision. The shadow in the water. This time… I think it noticed me."
The fire popped, and Harry jumped.
Percy leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "We can't ignore this. Hermione's fragments, your visions, my powers going haywire, it's all connected."
Harry stared into the flames. "But connected to what? Voldemort's gone. There's no prophecy about you. No war brewing, at least not that we know of."
"Maybe it's older than all of that," Percy said quietly.
Harry's eyes flicked to him. "Older than Voldemort?"
Percy hesitated. Then he whispered the words Hermione had repeated in the library: "The Sleeper in the Deep."
The fire sputtered, as though it had heard. Both boys fell silent, the crackle of embers filling the room.
Two days later, on their way to Care of Magical Creatures, Percy and Harry cut across the grounds. The others had gone ahead, leaving them alone near the lake's edge.
That was when Percy felt it, a pulse, faint but undeniable, beneath the water. The hairs on his arms stood up.
"Harry," he said sharply, grabbing his arm. "Did you feel that?"
Harry froze. Then, slowly, he nodded.
Ripples spread across the surface of the Black Lake, though no wind blew. For just a heartbeat, Percy thought he saw something beneath the water, vast, shifting, too deep to make out.
Then it was gone. The surface stilled.
Harry exhaled shakily. "Tell me that was just the giant squid."
Percy didn't answer.
The Whisper in the Hall
That evening, as the four of them walked toward the Great Hall for dinner, Hermione suddenly stumbled, clutching her head.
"Hermione?" Ron caught her arm, alarmed.
She squeezed her eyes shut. "I heard it again. A voice. Not English, it's the same language as the temple."
Harry and Percy exchanged a look.
"What did it say?" Harry asked.
Her voice shook. "It said… 'The chains are broken.'"
The corridor was suddenly very cold, though not a breeze stirred. Percy swore he heard a low echo himself, like the sea rushing in his ears.
Ron's face was pale. "Bloody hell. What does that mean?"
But they all knew, deep down. It meant the temple had not been the end of their story. It had been the beginning.
For the first time since the collapse, Percy realized something terrifying:
Whatever was sleeping beneath the waves was stirring.
And Hogwarts, his new home, their home, might not be as safe as it felt.
For the first half-hour, breakfast in the Great Hall seemed perfectly ordinary. The floating candles burned cheerfully, the long tables groaned under platters of sausages, eggs, and pumpkin juice, and Ron shovelled food into his gaping maw like a man starved.
Percy was almost convinced things were normal. Almost.
Because Harry kept jerking his head toward the enchanted ceiling, as though it might suddenly crack and let the Black Lake spill in. Hermione, meanwhile, was barely touching her toast, her quill scratching furiously across parchment balanced on her knees.
"What are you writing?" Ron mumbled through a mouthful of bacon.
Hermione didn't answer right away. She finally glanced up, her eyes shadowed with exhaustion. "I can't stop it. The symbols from the temple, they just keep… appearing. In my head. If I don't write them down, it feels like they'll burn through me."
Percy leaned closer. The parchment was filled with curling, jagged characters that hurt his eyes if he stared too long. They weren't just symbols, they were alive, pulsing faintly, as though they carried a rhythm only the sea understood.
"Does it make sense?" Harry asked quietly.
"Not yet," Hermione admitted, tucking her hair behind her ear. "But I think… it's building toward something."
Ron pushed his plate away, looking queasy. "Yeah, well, could it build toward not ruining my breakfast?"
But Percy wasn't listening. Because deep inside him, the ocean stirred in response to those symbols. His blood hummed with it.
That afternoon, Harry insisted they practice Quidditch. "Normal life," he declared, grabbing his Firebolt. "We can't sit around brooding about visions all day."
Percy wasn't convinced chasing a ball on broomsticks counted as "normal," but he played along. The truth was, he liked flying, it was almost like swimming, but with wind instead of water.
The practice went well, at first. Harry darted through the air with his usual reckless grace, Ron blocked three Quaffles in a row, and even Hermione, watching from the stands with a book in her lap, looked momentarily less haunted.
Then Percy caught the Quaffle, soared upward—
And the sky answered.
Clouds gathered with unnatural speed, swirling black over the pitch. Wind screamed through the stadium. Percy's grip on the Quaffle faltered as water, not rain, but seawater, spilled from the sky in a sudden, violent sheet.
"Percy!" Harry shouted, diving toward him.
But Percy wasn't falling. He was floating, surrounded by spiraling currents of water that shouldn't have been there. It felt like the sea had come for him, answering a call he hadn't meant to make.
For one wild second, he thought he saw something moving in the storm clouds. A shadow, vast and coiling. Watching.
Then Harry slammed into him, dragging him down. They hit the ground hard, the storm vanishing as suddenly as it appeared. The sky cleared, the pitch was dry again.
Only Percy was soaked to the bone, trembling, his heart hammering like waves against a cliff.
"What—what was that?" Ron panted, running up.
"I didn't—" Percy gasped. "I didn't do it on purpose."
But he could feel it, deep in his chest: the ocean inside him was no longer content to be contained.
That night, Harry dreamed again.
Except it didn't feel like a dream.
He stood before the Black Lake. The surface was perfectly still, reflecting the moon like a silver coin. But as he leaned closer, the reflection changed. His face vanished. In its place was a shadow that had no shape, no eyes, no mouth, yet it seemed to smile at him.
"Chains are broken."
The words weren't spoken, but they rang in Harry's mind.
"The sea remembers. The Sleeper stirs."
Harry stumbled back. "What do you want from me?"
The reflection rippled. And then, horrifyingly, it spoke in his own voice.
"To make you remember."
Harry jolted awake, sweat dripping down his face, his scar prickling though Voldemort was gone. For the first time in months, he felt truly watched.
The following day, Hermione dragged them into the library again. She slapped her parchment down on the table, her face pale but alight with grim determination.
"I've translated part of it."
Ron groaned. "Brilliant. Can we eat first—"
"No, listen!" she snapped. She pointed at the curling script. "It says: 'The temple was built not as a shrine, but as a prison.'"
The words landed like stones.
"A prison for what?" Harry asked, though he already knew the answer in his gut.
Hermione swallowed. "It doesn't give a name. Only a title. The Sleeper in the Deep. And… something else. A warning. 'If the chains break, the sea itself will rise against the land.'"
Percy's stomach twisted. His powers surging, the storm over the Quidditch pitch—it all lined up.
Ron's ears had gone red. "So you're saying… we knocked over some ancient underwater jail, and now a sea monster's about to eat Britain?"
Hermione hesitated. "I don't think it's just a monster, Ron. The language, " she tapped the parchment, "It feels older than magic itself. Whatever it is, it's… it's beyond Dark Magic. Beyond gods. Something primordial."
Harry felt cold all over. Because deep down, he knew the truth: the vision in the mirror, the shadow's words, they weren't warnings.
They were promises.
That evening, Dumbledore appeared in the common room. No announcement, no sound, just suddenly there, as though he'd stepped out of the fire.
The room fell silent. Even Fred and George froze mid-prank.
"Harry. Percy. Miss Granger. Mr. Weasley." Dumbledore's gaze swept over them, calm but piercing. "I believe we must speak."
He led them to his office, where the firelight flickered across ancient tomes and the slumbering shape of Fawkes the phoenix.
"I had hoped," Dumbledore began, steepling his fingers, "that the temple's collapse had ended this matter. But I see now the story has only begun."
Percy leaned forward. "You know what it was, don't you? What it held."
Dumbledore's eyes, for once, looked old. "I know only whispers. Legends of a force older than wizards or gods. A being who slept beneath the waves when the world was young. It was bound by magic long forgotten."
"Until we broke it," Harry said bitterly.
Dumbledore's gaze softened. "Not you, Harry. Not any of you. The prison was failing long before you arrived. But your presence… may have hastened its waking."
Hermione's voice trembled. "Then what do we do?"
Dumbledore was silent for a long moment. Then he said: "We prepare. And we pray the sea is merciful."
The fire cracked, and outside the castle walls, the Black Lake rippled.
As though something deep below had shifted in its sleep.
To be continued...
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Yay another chapter!
I just felt like writing another chapter lol :0