The return channel led into a second passage, then a clear stretch of water. Percy kept Harry and Hermione beside him until they reached the Black Lake's rocky bank. The city lay beneath the Aegean, but its old routes had brought them back to Hogwarts. He had never been so pleased to recognize a tree.
Hermione sat with both hands pressed against her knees. A few words came from her before she stopped herself and asked Harry whether he had heard them too.
Harry's scar had stopped bleeding. He wiped it with the clean edge of a cloth and kept his eyes on the bank until his breathing steadied.
Percy flexed his fingers. Water lifted from the stones before he had decided to call it. He let it fall, unsettled by how little effort the movement required.
They stayed there until Harry could stand. Percy waited rather than making the first person ready set the pace for everyone.
"We need Dumbledore," Percy said. "And Pomfrey. I am done pretending we can work this out while barely standing."
Hermione nodded. "We have enough to tell him. We do not have to finish translating it first."
Percy looked at the water. He missed the days when thinking of his father suggested somebody he could ask, rather than another part of a life he had lost.
Harry stood, swaying a little. "We'll need to sneak back into Hogwarts. We've already missed dinner and curfew. If we get caught…"
Hermione snorted, her voice returning to its normal crispness. "After what we just did, detention sounds like a holiday."
They gathered the supplies. Hermione could walk once she had stood for a moment, but Percy stayed near her instead of treating that as a reason to hurry.
The castle lights showed through the trees. Ron would be there, probably furious. Percy found that thought comforting enough to be worth the future argument.
They took the shortest path toward the side door. Harry noticed every movement in the hedges, and Percy kept telling him when a sound was only water.
Hermione opened the door. Warm air reached them, carrying the smell of a fire from farther inside. None of them complained about the walk through the corridors.
At the tower, Hermione gave the current password, Daring Starfish. The Fat Lady asked why they were wet. Percy promised an explanation later and immediately regretted giving anyone else that answer.
Ron was there, pacing in front of the hearth. He spun around when he heard them, his face going pale with shock. "Where in Merlin's name have you been? I thought you were dead! McGonagall almost sent an entire search party!"
Hermione raised her hand weakly. "Later, Ron. Please."
Percy sank into a couch, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "We found Thalassopolis. We fought… something. We barely closed it in time."
Ron looked at the three of them, then caught Harry's shoulders. He checked the blood beside the scar before asking another question.
"I can walk," Harry said. "That seems a better answer than fine tonight."
Hermione reached for parchment. Ron moved a cup into her hand first. "Drink. Write afterwards." She obeyed without arguing.
Ron finally sank into an armchair, shaking his head. "You lot are insane. Completely, absolutely mad."
Percy almost laughed at Ron's anger. Somebody who expected you to return had every right to dislike the state you returned in.
McGonagall entered while Ron was finding another towel. Her first look at them was enough to end the conversation.
"Mr. Potter! Miss Granger! Mr. Jackson! You are in violation of at least twenty school rules!" She looked around, her gaze softening slightly as she took in their battered appearance. "But… are you harmed?"
"My scar bled," Harry said. "Hermione is hearing the language again. Percy used too much magic. We need the headmaster, but we also need checking."
McGonagall sent for Pomfrey and took them to the headmaster only after the first checks. Her silence on the way was far worse than shouting would have been.
Percy could still feel the city route behind them. He kept attending to Ron's questions instead of letting the pull take him back to a place he had only just escaped.
When they reached the Headmaster's office, the stone gargoyle leapt aside at McGonagall's command. The spiral staircase rose before them, twisting into shadow.
Percy looked at the others before taking the first stair. "Tell me if you need a stop."
Hermione raised her wand. Harry adjusted his glasses and nodded. Ron swallowed hard but stepped forward without hesitation.
Ron stayed close behind Harry as they climbed.
The stairs were ordinary stairs tonight. Percy was grateful for that until they reminded him how much his legs hurt.
Dumbledore opened the door when McGonagall knocked. His gaze passed over the blood, the wet clothes, and the copied marks before he offered seats.
"Ron told us you had gone," he said. "I am glad he no longer has to wait for an answer."
Hermione stopped to catch her balance. Percy offered an arm, and she used it without turning the help into another thing to apologize for.
Dumbledore motioned them to sit. Fawkes, the phoenix, watched them from his perch with an almost knowing sadness, feathers shimmering like live flames.
"Tell me everything," Dumbledore said, folding his hands. "From the beginning."
Hermione described the route while Percy explained the water. Harry spoke slowly about the pictures. Ron kept track of what they had actually seen rather than letting a missing detail become another alarming guess.
Dumbledore listened. When Harry reached the imitation of an older Percy, he asked whether the scene had changed in response to their questions. Harry did not know.
The headmaster found an older account of the Sleeper. Its worn cover had to be supported before he opened it. Percy was tired enough to wish dangerous beings left instructions in newer books.
"This account describes a being held below the sea," Dumbledore said. "It gives us something to compare with your description. It does not yet establish which parts of the city still serve that purpose."
Hermione leaned forward, her eyes hungry for the knowledge despite her obvious exhaustion. "Can it be stopped?"
Dumbledore looked at her gravely. "It can be delayed. Bound. But truly destroyed? That is... uncertain."
Percy remembered the pressure beneath the throne. For a moment, he had wanted the offered power badly enough to overlook where it came from. Saying that aloud was harder than describing the attack.
Harry looked up sharply. "My scar... it reacted to it. I think the Sleeper is somehow connected to Voldemort's return."
"The scar reacts to foreign magic," Dumbledore said. "We need to learn whether the city reached the existing connection or made another route into it."
Hermione shuddered. "We need to warn the others. The Ministry, the Order, everyone."
Dumbledore set the book down. "I will contact the people who can help secure the routes. We should warn them about the events we can describe, not demand that they accept every explanation the city offered."
Ron finally found his voice. "So what are we supposed to do? Just... wait?"
"You recover," Dumbledore said. "Then we work on the effects it has left. Other people will investigate the route and the object."
Percy looked at his friends. He had wanted help, but part of him still wanted to turn being needed into a reason to get out of the chair. He stayed seated.
"Report any call from the water before following it," Dumbledore told him. "We should have made that easier before your last visit."
Percy nodded. The trident and the familiar power did not change how badly he wanted to stop being the person a room expected to fix it.
Dumbledore turned to Harry next. "And you, Harry, must guard your mind. The connection between you and Voldemort may become an open door, one he could use to influence you, or worse."
Harry asked who would help him. Dumbledore said he would arrange it and tell him what the work involved before it began.
Hermione finally put down the notes. Her hand had been shaking for several minutes, and Ron noticed the relief with which she let the page go.
"Sleep tonight," Dumbledore said. "The next discussion can wait until everyone can attend to it without fighting exhaustion."
He walked them to the door. McGonagall reminded them that getting medical help did not erase the broken instruction, but she would discuss that when they had recovered.
On the way back, Ron did most of the talking. He complained about waiting, then asked whether Harry wanted another towel, which made the complaint feel much kinder.
Percy felt the pull again. He named the corridor in his head and kept walking beside Hermione.
Harry's scar gave a sharp twinge, and he winced. Hermione's fingers traced the edges of her parchment, her mind clearly running wild. Ron glanced at them all, then muttered, "We're bloody mental for doing this, aren't we?"
"We should have told you before leaving," Percy said. Ron accepted the apology without saying that made the choice sensible.
They finally reached the portrait hole. The Fat Lady yawned, squinting at them. "Out late again, are we? Tsk. You'll be the death of me."
They sat down near the common-room fire instead of going straight upstairs. Warm clothes and tea did more for Percy than another explanation of what the sea remembered.
He listened while Ron argued about who should get the last biscuit.
Far below the sea, the larger presence moved. This time, Percy left that movement alone.
To Be Continued...
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