Darkness swallowed the library.
Percy's heart pounded. He could hear Ron's shaky breathing and Hermione's barely suppressed gasp beside him.
Then—footsteps.
Slow. Measured. Coming closer.
Percy's grip tightened around his wand. His mind raced—Who was it? Filch? Snape? Or someone… else?
The raspy voice that had spoken moments ago cut through the silence again.
"You shouldn't have come here, Mr. Jackson."
Percy's mouth went dry.
"Who are you?" he demanded.
The figure stepped forward just enough that a sliver of candlelight revealed a hooded cloak. But before Percy could react—
Hermione yanked him backward. "Run!"
She didn't have to say it twice.
They bolted.
Ron was the first to reach the gate, but as he shoved it open, it slammed shut on its own—locked by magic.
"Brilliant!" Ron hissed, yanking at it uselessly.
The cloaked figure took another step forward, raising a hand.
Percy didn't think—he acted.
He thrust his wand forward, channeling raw instinct. "Expelliarmus!"
A burst of red light shot from his wand—
And passed straight through the figure.
Percy barely had time to register what that meant before a powerful force struck his chest. He was thrown backward, slamming into a bookshelf. Dust and ancient parchment rained down around him.
Hermione screamed.
Ron rushed forward. "Percy—"
But the moment Ron grabbed his arm—
The world lurched.
The floor beneath them vanished.
And then—
They fell.
Percy hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the breath from his lungs.
He groaned, pushing himself up. The air was damp. Cold. The scent of wet stone filled his nostrils.
"Lumos," Hermione's voice whispered.
Light flared from her wand.
Percy squinted. They were in a tunnel—its walls carved from ancient rock, lined with strange symbols that pulsed with faint, golden light.
Ron groaned beside him. "Where… are we?"
Percy looked up. The ceiling was far above them, nothing but darkness beyond.
"We fell," Hermione said breathlessly. "Through the floor."
Percy turned in a slow circle. "No, not the floor. A gateway."
Ron scowled. "Great. Another secret passage. Because Hogwarts clearly doesn't have enough of those."
Percy ran a hand along the markings on the wall. The moment his fingers brushed the stone, warmth pulsed beneath his skin.
A deep, echoing rumble filled the tunnel.
Ron tensed. "Uh… what did you just do?"
The ground vibrated beneath their feet.
Then, from deep within the tunnel—
A voice.
A whisper.
"He has come."
A gust of wind rushed past them, though there was no visible source. It carried the scent of the ocean—salt and storm.
Hermione clutched Percy's arm. "I don't think we're alone down here."
Percy swallowed hard. "Yeah. I got that."
The tunnel stretched ahead, the golden symbols growing brighter as if guiding them.
"Only one way to go," Percy muttered.
And with that, they moved forward—deeper into the unknown.
The tunnel stretched before them like the dark maw of an ancient secret. The golden symbols on the walls pulsed softly, guiding Percy, Hermione, and Ron deeper into the unknown. Every step echoed in the narrow passage, the only sounds the distant drip of water and the whisper of their own cautious breaths.
As they walked, the walls began to reveal more than just flickering glyphs. Carved into the rough stone were intricate patterns—spirals, serpentine lines, and archaic characters that neither Hogwarts textbooks nor any Muggle history class could explain. Hermione's eyes shone with both curiosity and apprehension as she traced a finger along one of the inscriptions.
"These symbols… they're not from any language we know," she murmured. "They remind me of ancient runes, but with a magical twist. It's almost as if they're telling a story."
Percy's mind raced with fragmented memories of ancient legends from his old world. He recalled whispers of a deity or a spirit—a force that moved between realms, one that existed on the very edge of mortal understanding. The phrase from the parchment—the warning, and then the summons—echoed in his thoughts: The One Who Walks Between.
The corridor eventually widened, revealing a grand staircase hewn directly from the living rock. Each step was worn smooth by centuries of passage, and as they ascended, the golden glow intensified, bathing the staircase in a surreal, amber light. The air grew warmer and heavy with a scent reminiscent of the sea during a storm—salty, turbulent, and oddly invigorating.
At the top of the staircase, the tunnel opened into a vast chamber. The space was cavernous, with a domed ceiling lost in darkness above and walls lined with even more elaborate carvings. In the center of the chamber stood an altar fashioned from black marble, its surface etched with symbols that pulsed as if breathing. Resting atop the altar was a relic—a long-forgotten object that seemed to merge the two worlds Percy had come to know. It was neither wholly Muggle nor purely magical, but something in between: an ornate trident, its prongs entwined with delicate vines of silver, and at its base, a crystal orb that shimmered with an inner light.
The trio halted, their eyes wide with awe and dread. Ron was the first to break the silence. "What in Merlin's name is that?" he whispered, his voice trembling between fear and fascination.
Hermione stepped closer to the altar, her eyes scanning the inscriptions carved along its edges. "This… this is incredible. It looks ancient—older than anything in the Hogwarts library. I think it might be connected to the legend of the One Who Walks Between."
Percy felt a chill ripple through him—a connection that was almost visceral. He stepped forward slowly, drawn to the relic as if by an unseen force. "There's something familiar about it," he said softly. "I've heard tales… from a long time ago… about a being who could move between worlds. They said he was a bridge, a guardian, and sometimes even a destroyer."
As if on cue, the chamber's ambient light began to flicker and change. The crystal orb at the base of the trident glowed brighter, casting dancing reflections onto the ancient stone walls. The carvings along the walls, which had been static moments before, now seemed to shimmer with life, as though the stories etched into them were coming to fruition.
Hermione's eyes darted around the chamber, and she leaned in close to Percy. "Do you feel that? Your magic…it's resonating with the relic."
Percy nodded slowly, feeling a warmth spread from his chest outward, mingling with an undercurrent of trepidation. "I can feel something stirring—like it's been asleep for centuries, and now it's waking up."
Before any of them could speak further, the low rumble of the chamber's stone began to build, the sound vibrating through their bones. The ground underfoot shuddered, and a deep, resonant voice echoed from the far end of the chamber—a voice that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.
"Welcome, Percy Jackson."
The words reverberated through the vast space, making the very air tremble. Percy's heart pounded in his ears. That voice was both alien and eerily familiar, a sound that seemed to belong to a time long past.
Hermione gasped, clutching her wand tighter. "Percy… that voice—it's speaking directly to you!"
Ron's face went ashen. "Is it… is it one of the ghosts of the past? Or something else?"
Before Percy could answer, the orb's light intensified, bathing the altar in a brilliant radiance that forced him to squint. The trident vibrated in its resting place, and the ancient carvings on the walls began to glow with an ethereal blue light. Slowly, words appeared on the marble altar, written in a language that shifted and undulated as if alive:
Percy felt his stomach churn. His blood raced with a mix of fear and determination. The chamber seemed to hold its breath, waiting for him to respond. Every instinct told him that this was no mere relic—it was a conduit to his destiny, a test set in motion by forces older than time itself.
With a shaky breath, Percy stepped toward the altar. His hand reached out, hovering over the cool surface of the trident, while the orb pulsed like a living heart. In that moment, he felt the full weight of his dual worlds—of gods and monsters from his past and the enchanting, unpredictable magic of Hogwarts. Here, in the depths of this hidden chamber, those two legacies collided.
A moment of silence stretched into an eternity. Then, the orb flashed a blinding white light that swallowed the chamber whole. Percy's eyes squeezed shut, and he could feel his magic intertwining with something ancient and powerful. The voice spoke once more, now softer, yet unmistakably urgent:
"Choose your path, guardian of the threshold. The time has come to awaken the bridge between realms."
As the light receded, the chamber revealed itself anew. Shadows danced along the walls, and the trident's glow subsided to a steady, pulsing cadence. But something had changed. The inscriptions on the walls had rearranged themselves, forming a map—a labyrinthine blueprint of corridors and hidden passages within Hogwarts that even the professors would find mysterious.
Hermione's voice broke the silence. "Percy… what have you done? It's as if you've activated something far beyond our understanding."
Percy turned to her, his eyes reflecting both wonder and fear. "I don't know. I felt something, like I was… connected. As if this relic was waiting for me all along."
Suddenly, a distant clamor echoed through the chamber—a sound like the shattering of stone and the distant roar of a tidal wave. The ground trembled once more, and from behind the map on the wall, a narrow passage began to open. A rush of cold, damp air spilled into the chamber, carrying with it the unmistakable scent of the deep ocean and storm-tossed winds.
Before any of them could react, the voice returned, now layered with urgency and warning:
"The balance is threatened. The One Who Walks Between is not alone…"
The passage widened slightly, revealing darkness beyond, and the golden symbols along the walls flickered wildly, as if trying to communicate. Hermione gasped, Ron gripped Percy's arm, and Percy's mind whirled with questions. Who—or what—was coming? And how did it relate to the ominous warnings he'd received?
As the light from the trident dimmed and the chamber grew silent once more, Percy knew one thing with absolute clarity: his journey was far from over. Standing at the threshold of this newly revealed passage, with the relic's soft pulse echoing in his veins, he faced a choice that could alter the course of both his worlds.
Before he could decide his next move, the chamber shuddered violently, and the darkness in the passage deepened into an impenetrable void. A single, distorted laugh—both mocking and sorrowful—rippled through the air.
Percy swallowed hard. "Hermione, Ron… I think we're not alone anymore."
And in that heart-stopping moment, as the door of the passage began to close on its own, sealing off the secrets of the depths.
To Be Continued... Next week!
----------------------------------------------------------------------
A cliffhanger!!! Hahahaha! I promise I'm building up towards a actual story, stay tuned for next weeks chapter! Well, off to write the next chapter! *Whispers* Stone me!
Add the book to your library to get the next and subsequent chapters :)
Have some ideas about my story? Comment it and let me know. (constructive criticism/praise only!) NO TROLLS!