The True Halv Blood Prince

It took Percy nearly five minutes of cajoling, and repeatedly flashing his badge to the old woman, whom he learned was Harry's neighbor Arabella Figg, before she finally believed Percy was who he said he was.

The walk back to Potter's house was a quiet one. To his credit, the kid didn't let his guard down for a moment, which was a moderately impressive, if worrying skill for a fifteen-year-old to possess. That level of paranoia and alertness, even in the wake of immediate danger, wasn't something Percy usually found outside of campers. He kept an eye out too, but he wasn't all that worried, dementors were dangerous, but ironically enough they're also cowards. If you manage to scare them off the first time they don't come back.

They really were leeches.

Here he was thinking, like an idiot, that being over the pond meant that he wouldn't have to watch over his shoulder every five minutes for monsters. He could practically hear the lecture in his ears. Everyone from Annabeth, to Chiron lecturing him on how "we're never actually safe and there are enemies on every street corner and yadda yadda yaddda, blah blah blah."

The running dialogue in his head continued to meander as he, Harry, Figg, and the miniature whale walked up the steps to number 4. Harry and Figg had been talking on and off about…something. If he were honest, Percy had stopped listening to the conversation some time ago. It wasn't necessarily his fault, and to his credit, he had gotten better at paying attention over the years. But he'd forgotten his medication before leaving. Most demigods didn't like taking medication for their ADHD, it was their battle sense, and for them, dulled senses meant a short life. But Percy didn't mind it much, and didn't notice too much of a difference. Even with his senses dulled, he was faster, and more experienced than most.

He was shaken from his musings when it finally dawned on him that Potter and Figg had stopped talking and were looking at him expectantly. Perhaps a more professional agent would have been able to cover their folly, passed off their empty-mindedness as worry for any new potential dangers. Percy was not that. Which is why he couldn't stop his mouth from blurting,

"Uh…What was that?"

Dammit.

"We're here," Said Potter, looking annoyed. Or maybe it was slightly constipated, honestly, it was pretty interchangeable at that age. Percy would know. "You can put Dudley down.", he said. Percy looked over his shoulder at the still dazed and confused humpback. Realizing he'd all but completely forgotten about him. With a shrug, Percy dumped the boy off his shoulder and let him down onto his unsteady feet slowly and carefully. Percy was going to let go of him but the way he swayed the second his feet hit concrete caused Percy to firmly latch onto the poor kid's shoulder with his hand and steady him.

Kneeling down slightly, Percy was a little concerned now. Dementors were nasty enough when you had already experienced one and knew what to expect, let alone when you could see it. To experience one first hand, and nearly get kissed on top of it, would be a horrifically traumatizing experience, made all the worse because the poor kid wouldn't have been able to see what was causing it. Percy looked at the kid's pudgy face, specifically at his unfocused, and half-lidded eyes and swore quietly under his breathe.

"He needs some chocolate," Percy said simply, passing him off to Potter as he did so. Of all the times to forget to bring his pack with him from the rental it had to be now didn't it? His life in a nutshell. "Potter, take him inside and get him settled. Then go and start packing your stuff."

That threw both him and Figg off.

"Am I…going somewhere?" he asked uncertainly, with something that was an interesting combination of hope and distrust on his face. Percy raised an eyebrow in turn.

"You were just ambushed by a pair of freaking dementors. Who in their right mind would keep you here where you're clearly a target? I would be pretty shit at my job if I was just like 'nah he's got this covered, clearly nobody wants this guy dead. Might as well call it a night and leave him here where he is obviously compromised.' Hell no, I'm moving you to a safe house near London for safe keeping until someone who knows better can figure out what to do with you."

"So, are you saying you believe me?" he began, his voice getting a little excited again, "about Vold-"

Percy cut him off.

"Like I said earlier man, I don't know what to believe until I've conducted my interview. What I do know though, is that someone wants you like, super dead. Wants you dead bad enough to send those monstrosities at you. As far as I'm concerned, even if you are lying about that Voldemort stuff, which I'm not saying you are, I wouldn't be doing my job if I just left you here on your own."

Potter seemed to think on that for a moment before he nodded, albeit he was reluctant. But before Percy could turn to go back to his car Figg started in on him.

"And just how can we be sure to trust you are who you say you are?"

Percy couldn't help himself, he groaned. He was pretty sure it wasn't appreciated. "Listen," he started, allowing the annoyance he was feeling creep into his voice. "The way I see it, you don't have much of a choice but to trust me. Potter is clearly not safe here and if you can't trust the ICW then who can you trust? Furthermore, if you don't believe me, ask Dumbledore, he knows who I am and can vouch for my identity."

He chose not to add that the old guy was going to be the opposite of happy that he was moving Potter without Dumbledore's permission. But at the same time, Percy just didn't care. He always did have a problem with authority figures and doing what he was told. Which looking back on was incredibly ironic given the whole, law enforcement thing.

Something to dwell on later.

Percy turned away from Figg and addressed Potter again, "I'll be back in ten minutes. Just do me a favor and try not to, you know, die or break anything between now and then." And before Potter could even respond Percy turned and was walking as briskly as he could down the block towards his car.

As he was walking Percy reached into his pocket and pulled out an old flip-phone. It was an innocuous cream color with a series of intricate and complicated runes and symbols splayed across its back in black ink. Since talking on a cell phone was like painting wearing a bright neon sign that read 'dear all monsters please come kill me', demigods had to use slightly more unconventional methods to communicate across distances. Or at least he did, especially since he rarely carried drachmas on him to make iris calls to anyone and even then, they're about as inconspicuous as an elephant in a glass house.

He flipped open the phone and pressed and held the pound sign for a moment until there was a dial tone. He then dialed three nines followed by three, seven, four, and then finally two, zero, zero, eight. He waited through a couple rings before there was a click and a voice on the other line. The voice was male, and had a distinct Brooklyn accent.

"Gino's Pizzeria, home 'a 'da real deal Brooklyn pie, how can I help ya's." Percy rolled his eyes. Some dipstick had clearly watched too many spy movies or something when they were working out the division back in the day. It was honestly the only reasonable explanation for the absurd call sign and ring around the department made their agents go through when they were checking in long distance. It had something to do magic and long distance communication being easily heard or some such nonsense Percy didn't really care for or understand. That was the crap that the magicals could worry about, all Percy knew was that whenever he was out of country, getting in touch with his tech crews in house was a pain in the ass. Here in jolly old England, the front for the department was a Brooklyn style pizzeria in London.

Instead of snarkily responding like he wanted to, instead Percy said, "Yeah, my name is Percy Jackson. I ordered from you guys a few hours ago and I'd like to speak to the manager. My last pie had a hair in it and I think I want a refund." Put simply that little phrase identified who Percy was, that he was an agent, and that he needed to speak to the officer in charge because his op had gone pear shaped and he needed to keep the home offices appraised.

The guy on the other end didn't even hesitate, it was the mark of a real professional honestly. "Sucks to be you pal. Putting you through." Yup real professional.

There was a brief moment of silence before a woman's voice, low and authoritative, came over the speaker.

"Jackson. Report." Special agent Abigail Freeman said. Freeman was the agent in charge of all field operations in and around the United Kingdom. Percy technically reported to her, and she in turn relayed all of my findings and information back to button pushers in New York. However, given that this was really an ICW operation, Percy was the head agent in charge, but he needed to play nice for a little bit, if for nothing else than to create a sense of comradery. Freeman was strong, iron willed, and easily one of the most determined people Percy had ever met. She also scared the unholy hell out of him. For good reason too. It's hard enough to become a field agent outside the States. You had to be the best in your given field and had to have a proven record. Then to ascend to head agent in charge of an entire field operation was something else entirely. Freeman was a hardass out of necessity, but she was still a hardass.

"Ma'am." Percy started simply, "There's been a development in the Potter case." When she didn't respond, he took that as prompting to continue. "As I was making my towards Potter's residence I felt the presence of two dementors near my immediate vicinity. I changed course and immediately broke off to engage the dementors. With Potter being the only registered magical in the vicinity, and given the implications of his accusations, I felt it likely that he was the target of the monsters. I was proven correctly when I came across him trying to fend the pair off with a patronus charm. I dispatched one of the dementors and the other fled."

He paused momentarily to catch his breath and organize his scrambled thoughts slightly before continuing. He was very good at almost every aspect of his job. Some would call it arrogance but Percy didn't think it was arrogance when you had the skills and the know-how to back it up. However, despite his excellent field skills, he'd never been particularly gifted at the more bureaucratic parts of the job. Specifically, he'd never been all that good at explaining himself and the rationale behind the decisions he made. He usually didn't like long-term or intricate plans he just followed his gut. It had almost never steered him wrong and following his instincts had kept him and many others alive that long. However, a lot of the pencil pushers back home don't appreciate it when you tell them that you leveled a three-story apartment complex on a hunch. They may have given him hell for it but they looked pretty damn foolish and Percy ultimately looked pretty awesome when it turned out that building was really a nesting ground for ghouls and his collapsing the building killed off the entire population.

Anyways, point being, he had to take a little longer to portray his thoughts to his bosses.

"Ma'am," Percy started again, "Given the obvious breach in security, it is clear that Potter's safety here has been compromised. I request permission to move him to my personal safe house for the conduction of the interview as well as safe guarding until a more secure location can be acquired for him." He felt pretty proud of himself. He'd used all the fancy buzzwords that all of briefing slides liked to use to make things seem more complicated.

There was a moment's hesitation on the other end before Freeman responded. "You think that someone is trying to shut Potter up? Keep him from spreading the word about Voldemort being back then?" Percy nodded, despite the fact that she couldn't actually see the action.

"I find the timing to be more than a little suspect ma'am. Beyond that it's not entirely a new circumstance over here. I did some fact checking on my way over here and it turns out that in the last war this Voldemort guy enlisted the help of dementors to help further his agenda. In my mind it certainly lends some credence to Potter's claims."

"I agree. Do it. I'll get in touch with Dumbledore and clear up the red tape. Get Potter interviewed and immediately forward me the recording and the copies for archival purposes."

"Yes Ma'am…" Percy said, and Freeman must have heard the question in my hesitation.

"What is it Jackson?" she asked brusquely.

"Ma'am, am I going to get in trouble for killing that dementor? I somehow doubt that the Brits are gonna be too happy that one of their little torture monsters is dead, and I'm not sure how I'm going to be able to explain to them how I was even able to kill it, let alone why the hell an American agent is operating within their borders."

He was pretty thrown off when the only reply he got was in the form of a barked out chuckle. The kind of thing that was more fitting on a wolf than it was a human.

"Relax Jackson, nothing is gonna happen. Firstly, the British Ministry would have to admit that there were even dementors running loose in nomaj England, outside of the Ministry's jurisdiction and more importantly outside of their control. I know Fudge, and I know his people, they aren't going to raise any kind of a stink over this because if they do it admits their own incompetence. As to your other concern, as far as anyone else is concerned, you're in England looking into the estranged sister of your long-lost father whom you heard was rumored to be living in Little Whinging. I shouldn't need to remind you that all of that information was in the briefing packet you received before coming here."

That last bit was said with an edge to it that would have unnerved a lesser man. She was right, it probably had been in the briefing packet but between his own desire to get out of town as quickly as possible and his desire to get this whole thing over with, Percy hadn't bothered to read the part of his cover. It hadn't seemed all that important when he figured it likely that he wouldn't be sticking around long term. He had a feeling that was going to be changing soon though and with it, he would need a new cover story so really, his not knowing the whole thing probably wasn't all that relevant in the first place. He was pulled from his thoughts when Freeman started again,

"That being said, I will have some of our people look into exactly how and why those dementors were in the same place at the same time as you and Potter. This might be your operation, but this is my turf, which makes you my responsibility. Nobody and I mean nobody, threatens the lives of my agents while I am consciously breathing. Rest assured Agent Jackson that I will personally get to the bottom of this. Report back to me after you've interviewed Potter." There was a click, and the line went dead.

He couldn't help the small smirk that came to his lips as he stared at the phone, so maybe Freeman was a hardass but like all agents, she cared for her own. The thought was enough to bring some small comfort to him as he arrived at his car. It was an innocuous little thing. He was never really one for cars, with the obvious exception of the Maserati. But he knew that his car was one of maybe five of the same vehicles parked on that street alone. It was good for blending, not so great for his self-esteem. A guy's self-worth is measured by the worth of the car he drives. At least that was what Leo always said.

He popped open the trunk and grabbed his emergency pack. It took a few moments but he also found the stash of chocolate he had hidden away for dementors and other necrophages. He didn't understand the magic or the science behind it but for whatever reason chocolate was the ultimate cure for magic sickness. He also reached in and grabbed onto his backup service pistol, still clasped into its holster, and attached it to his belt. He then took out his wallet and slung his badge over his neck, the small chain was cool to the skin. In his experience with dealing with mortals, seeing the badge and gun displayed as visibly as possible put them at ease. Something about the legitimization of the proposed authority or some nonsense. He was not sure about that crap but it worked.

The walk back to number four was quicker than the walk from, mostly because he doubled his pace on the return trip. He hesitated only briefly at the door, wondering whether or not he should knock. But he was not a patient person and he didn't want to have to spend the next five minutes trying to persuade whomever answered the door to let him in. So, he just opened the door and walked into the small entrance hallway at number four.

He was immediately put ill at ease. Everything felt too perfect. The kind of fake perfect that appears in TV and movies where a sane person would see the house and think 'wow the person who lives there is just entirely too neat and orderly. They have to be a serial killer.' The floor's looked waxed, the stairs vacuumed and the air stank of disinfectant. Percy took a few steps forward before turning into the small entrance to the living room. The only lights on in the entire house had been in the living room and upstairs where he assumed Potter was gathering his stuff.

Standing in the small frame to the living room, he got his first look at the Dursley family. Hells Bells. He had only been half kidding when he referred to the kid as a baby whale. But that would be nowhere near descriptive enough for the man Percy presumed was his father. The man must have been upwards of four hundred pounds and was damn near a perfect circle. Honestly Percy was kind of impressive just how fat the man was. His white button down, stained with what looked like that night's dinner, was bursting at the buttons. The cuffs of his sleeves, rolled up to his elbows, were straining so much against his considerable girth that Percy could almost hear the fabric stretching and crying out. He was sitting in a plush looking armchair, facing his son. He had turned when he heard the door and was halfway through what looked like an attempt to propel himself out of the chair when he turned his beady eyes on Percy.

"Who the ruddy hell are you?", the man boomed, his voice low and face turning purple in sudden rage. "What the hell are you doing in my home, what give you the right to just waltz in like you own the place? Eh? Get out of my house right now before I-"

"Vernon!" said his wife, rather shrilly, in warning. Both Percy and older and uglier Violet Beauregarde turned to address the frail, horse-faced woman. Never in his life had he seen such a contradiction of physical human proportions in one place. Whereas Vernon Dursley was large enough to fill a room. The woman, who had to be Petunia, was small enough to get lost in a broom closet along with the coat hangers. She was the smallest and most hollow looking woman he had ever seen. She was shivering and looking between the gun at Percy's hip and the badge on his chest. Her boney arms were clenched around the large shoulders of her son, who was shaking, pale as death, and covered head to toe in blankets.

Vernon followed her gaze, and his beady bug eyes latched onto the gun and badge as well. The purple in his cheeks shrank slightly only to be replaced with a pale whiteness. He looked outside desperately, as though expecting to see an armada of tanks and helicopters prepared to blow him and his family to kingdom come. When he spoke next his voice was calmer, but with a lilt of shaky fear in it as well.

"Ahem, M-Mr. Officer, what can I be doing for you this evening." Percy couldn't help but feel an eyebrow raise slightly as he fought off a frown. The man was nothing more than a bully. Unbidden, memories of card tables, and cigar smoke and bean dip filled my senses and Percy had to suppress the buildup of anger before he did something stupid. He may have hated bullies but the man hadn't done anything devious yet, besides rightly demand why a strange man was barging into his home uninvited and unannounced.

Uncrossing his arms, Percy tapped at the shielded badge on his chest.

"I'm special agent Percy Jackson, United States Department of Special Investigations. I was in the neighborhood to question your nephew, Harry Potter, about the events that took place at his school last June. However-" Before he could even get another word out Vernon Dursley was out of his chair and the purple hue had returned.

"You're one of them then are you!" it was a statement more than a question, "One of those no-good ruddy freaks! Get out! Get out of my house right this instance! I will not have your abnormalities tarnishing my home and my family. Get out before I call the REAL authorities and then you'll be sorry!" The man was working himself into a frenzy. Percy managed to maintain a somewhat level head though and as calmly and smoothly as he could, he popped the leather strap off the handle of his pistol and gently laid his hand on its grip with his other hand coming to rest on his hip.

That did the trick well enough. The man's mouth snapped shut with an audible click and he paled considerably. His wife, if it was even possible, seemed to get even smaller and started shaking as badly as her son, who was still not even looking at Percy. Ignoring the larger of the two monstrosities for a minute, Percy reached into his coat pocket to grab at the emergency kit. He fumbled around in it for a second before he found the chocolate bar. Pulling it out he tossed it gently to the woman. Not expecting the sudden object, it hit her in the chest and startled her, as it fell into her lap. Percy nodded at the shaking kid and said,

"Give that him, he's been around a dementor. Which I would have told you about had you let me finish." He glared at the larger man who flinched and backed away, falling heavily into the chair. Percy turned back to Petunia, "It's just a regular old chocolate bar. Got it at the gas station down the road. A few bites of that and he'll be back to normal in no time. If you don't, it's likely that he'll go insane."

However, Petunia didn't look convinced and Vernon shakily said, "A-and why should we b-believe anything you tell us. Y-you're one of those lot! You did t-this to my son!" Percy had to give the man credit, he could rally quickly and get mad faster than most mortals Percy had met. But what patience he had was evaporating quickly.

"Sit back down and shut the hell up before I do something you'll regret!" his statement was punctuated with a slight pull at the pistol. Seeing him shut down, as well as nearly piss himself, Percy put the pistol back and continued.

"As I was going to say, if you had let me finish. I'm not a wizard, I'm not a squib, and I am in no way related to the British magical community. I am here on behalf of the International Wizarding Confederation as a neutral agent to look into the events of last June that surrounded your nephew. I'm not with them, and quite frankly I don't want to be here in your home any more than you want me here. So shut up, feed your kid the damn chocolate, and within the next ten minutes both me and Mr. Potter will be gone and out of your hair."

That seemed to do the trick, and quickly Petunia unwrapped the candy bar and shoved it into her son's mouth. He seemed to choke for a second at the sudden action before his brain figured out what was happening and he began to chew. Within moments a rosy peach color returned to his cheeks and his eyes lost their vacant expression. Then a few moments later he stopped shaking altogether.

Percy nodded in satisfaction before turning and walking out the room and up the stairs. He assumed the room with the lights on would be Potter's room. His guess was proven correct when he opened the door to reveal the most defeated looking kid he had ever seen, glumly putting shirts into a massive trunk. Percy didn't need to announce his presence, Potter's owl did that for him. Squawking and barking up a storm the moment Percy opened the door. She was banging against her cage and screeching something awful. Potter was quickly at her side trying to soothe her. After a few moments of stroking her white plumes he managed to calm her down slightly and he turned to glare at me suspiciously.

"Hedwig has never acted that way around anyone before.", Percy laughed, self-consciously, and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Sorry about that, didn't realize you had an owl otherwise I would have warned you. They tend not to like me all that much."

Potter look at him like he had grown a second head, "Why?" he asked, rather incredulous. Percy shrugged noncommittally as his answer and Potter seemed to understand that was all Percy was willing to say on the matter.

"So, you gonna tell me why it looks like someone just killed your dog." For whatever reason he seemed to tense up at that, and Percy filed that away as something to look into later, before he responded. His voice took on the air of someone on their walk towards the hangman's noose.

"I got expelled from Hogwarts" he said simply.

Percy just raised his eyebrows in response and said. "Well, I think I can help you out with that."