Chapter 5 – Shadows and Starlight
(Block 3)
The Quidditch pitch incident could not be ignored. By the next morning, Percy was summoned to the headmaster's office.
He entered calmly, Artemis and Athena flanking him as though summoned too. Dumbledore sat behind his vast desk, fingers steepled, the twinkle in his eye muted into something sharper. Snape stood in the corner, arms folded, his expression like a coiled serpent.
"Mr. Jackson," Dumbledore began, his voice measured, "you've brought something extraordinary into this castle."
Percy met his gaze without flinching. "I didn't bring him here. Nyxios comes of his own will."
Snape's lips curled. "Convenient, isn't it, for a boy your age to command such a beast? More powerful than any phoenix. More dangerous too."
"Dangerous to whom?" Athena asked smoothly. "To students? Or to those with darker intentions?"
Snape's eyes narrowed at her interruption, but Artemis leaned forward slightly, her silver gaze piercing. "If Nyxios meant harm, you'd have seen it already. Instead, he saved a boy's life."
Dumbledore raised a hand before the exchange could escalate. "Be that as it may, Hogwarts is… unsettled. Students whisper of forbidden magics. Staff wonder what manner of creature could answer to a fourth-year. And I, myself, must wonder—why here? Why now?"
Percy let the silence stretch. The fire popped in the grate. Finally, he said evenly, "Because this is where he is needed."
Dumbledore studied him, blue eyes searching for something beneath the words. Percy offered no more.
At length, the headmaster leaned back. "Very well. Nyxios may remain—so long as his presence does not endanger my students. But understand me, Mr. Jackson: there are forces at play here older and darker than you may realize. I would not see them stirred unnecessarily."
Percy inclined his head slightly. "Then perhaps you should be glad Nyxios is here."
Snape scoffed. "Arrogant."
Percy turned his gaze toward him, calm but edged. "Protective."
The single word hung in the air, weighted, before Percy turned and left, Artemis and Athena at his side.
Staffroom Whispers
Later that week, in the staffroom, Snape's fury found eager ears.
"He flaunts that beast as though he were above the rest of us," Snape hissed. "And those girls—always at his side, like some parody of royalty. It's a disruption."
Professor McGonagall arched a brow. "Disruption or not, Severus, he has saved lives. Twice now."
"He's dangerous," Snape snapped. "Mark my words, Albus's leniency will cost us."
Quirrell, pale and twitching in his seat, muttered, "The creature—it… it is unnatural. I could feel it, even through the stone. It burns."
Snape's eyes flicked to him sharply, but Quirrell ducked his head.
Flitwick, sipping tea, said quietly, "I don't know what he is, but I've never seen magic like it. That boy carries power. One would do well not to make an enemy of him."
Snape sneered, but he said nothing more.
Student Reactions
The castle buzzed endlessly with talk of the confrontation no one had seen but everyone imagined. Rumors spread that Dumbledore had tried to forbid Percy from summoning Nyxios and failed. Some swore Snape had dueled Percy in secret and lost. Others whispered Percy had threatened to leave the school entirely, and that Dumbledore had begged him to stay.
None of it was true, but truth mattered little in a castle full of restless children. What mattered was that Percy's presence loomed larger than ever.
Jealousy sharpened among the boys. Ron muttered under his breath whenever Percy passed. Seamus complained loudly that Gryffindor's glory was being stolen. Even some Ravenclaws, normally detached, bristled at Percy's effortless command.
But the girls… the girls watched with open admiration. They saw the way Artemis and Athena leaned into Percy's space, the way he held them both without apology. They saw the way Nyxios appeared only at his call, more majestic than anything Dumbledore could summon. To them, Percy was no mere student—he was legend walking in the flesh.
Voldemort's Rage
In the dark recesses of Quirrell's mind, Voldemort writhed.
The beast grows bolder. The boy grows bolder. I cannot reach Potter through the shadows—not while that creature circles the castle.
Quirrell whimpered softly, clutching his turban. "M-master, perhaps… perhaps we should wait—"
Wait? Voldemort spat. Each day he cements his hold. Each day he steals whispers, faith, fear—all the things I feed upon. Do you not feel it? My power wanes in this place. His creature devours it.
Quirrell trembled, sweat beading on his brow. "Then… what can we do?"
Voldemort's voice was a hiss of venom. We must sever him from the boy. Strike when he is apart from Potter. If we cannot break the beast, we break its master.
But even as he spoke, Voldemort felt the hollowness of the words. He feared the creature. He feared the boy. And fear was poison in his veins.
After Curfew
That night, Percy returned to the hidden chamber with Artemis and Athena. The tension of the day melted when the door shut behind them, sealing away the whispers and suspicions.
Artemis curled against him, her fingers tracing idle patterns across his chest. Athena leaned over the back of the couch, pressing her lips briefly to his temple before settling beside them.
"They don't trust us," Artemis said quietly.
"They never did," Athena replied. "But now they're afraid. That makes them dangerous."
Percy held them both, his voice steady. "Let them whisper. Let them doubt. They won't see the truth until it's too late for Voldemort to twist it."
For a long time, they stayed that way, warmth and trust their shield against the storm. Outside, high above the battlements, Nyxios glided through the night, his starlight wings casting fleeting constellations across the stone.
And within the castle walls, even in sleep, Voldemort trembled.