"What are you supposed to be? A butler?" Brad sneered, puffing his chest out even further to try and intimidate the demigod.
Percy just raised a calm, unimpressed eyebrow. "No, actually, I'm supposed to be hot," Percy said smoothly. He gave Cassy a deliberate, charming wink, which caused the girl to immediately blush a deep crimson.
"Oy! Did you just wink at my girl?!" Brad growled, his face turning an ugly, mottled red.
"Brad, drop it! I ain't your girl! We broke up weeks ago!" Cassy growled back, shoving at his chest to get him away.
"Shut up, bitch!" the teen growled at her, before turning his aggressive glare back to Percy. "You think you're hot shit, Yankee? Huh? You think you can just waltz in here in your fancy suit and show me up?"
Percy snorted, completely unfazed. "News flash, Brad. Punk died in the eighties."
"What did you say to me?!" Brad yelled, stepping closer, his fists clenching.
"Order 133!" the cashier called out loudly from behind the counter, cutting through the tension.
Percy turned away from the fuming teenager without a second thought. "Right here!" he called out. He quickly paid, collected his large pizza box, and turned back to Brad. "Sorry, Brad. We'll have to do this little macho dance later. My pizza is getting cold."
"That's right, you bloody coward! Run off!" Brad cried out triumphantly as Percy completely ignored him and started walking towards the exit.
"Brad, stop it! You're embarrassing me!" Cassy hissed, pulling at his leather sleeve.
"I said, shut up, bitch!"
Slap!
The sharp, ugly sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed in the small pizzeria.
Percy stopped dead just as he pushed the glass door open. He slowly turned around. He saw Cassy holding her cheek, which was already turning a bright, angry red. Jenny was yelling at the boy, poking him hard in the chest with an accusing finger, while Brad just ignored her, looking smugly satisfied with himself.
Percy was just going to leave. He really, truly didn't care what this pathetic punk thought of him. He had bigger, darker things to worry about tonight. But then... then he had to go and slap Cassy. That crossed a line.
"Hey, Brad," Percy called out, his voice deathly calm, instantly gaining the boy's attention. He pushed the door open all the way and motioned for him to follow with a simple curl of his fingers as he stepped out into the dark alleyway beside the pizzeria.
"Now we're talking," Brad chuckled, cracking his knuckles. He swaggered out after Percy, closely followed by his eager gang of friends, expecting a quick, easy beatdown.
"Brad, don't!" Cassy cried, running out after them, trying to pull him back. "Don't do this! He hasn't done anything to you!"
"Get off me, bitch!" he yelled, roughly throwing her aside so she stumbled against the brick wall. He then turned to Percy with a nasty grin. "I'm going to really enjoy beating the absolute shit out of you, Yankee!"
Percy just sighed, a tired, weary sound. He put the pizza box down carefully on a relatively clean trash can. "Just come on then. Get it over with."
Brad was thoroughly pissed off by the dismissal. He charged ahead, raising a clumsy fist and crying out, "Argh!"
Percy didn't even adopt a fighting stance. He just waited a fraction of a second, then smoothly stepped slightly to the side. He grabbed Brad's incoming punch by the wrist and twisted his arm sharply, using the boy's own momentum against him.
Something gave way with a sickening sound.
Crack!
"ARGH! My arm! You broke my fucking arm!" Brad screamed in sudden agony, immediately dropping to his knees on the filthy alley floor, cradling his broken wrist in pain, tears springing to his eyes.
Percy stood over him, his expression cold and devoid of any pity. "If you ever hit a girl again, Brad, that is not allI'll break," Percy warned softly, his voice carrying clearly over the boy's moans. He picked up his pizza box, adjusted his suit jacket, and casually walked away, passing right through the gathered, shell-shocked group of teenagers, and past one grinning, vindicated Cassy.
Percy managed to get away from the main street and people's sight quickly. He soon found a dark, empty patch of park to teleport from. He visualized the Dursleys' kitchen, spun on his heel, and appeared with a loud crack inside Number 4 Privet Drive.
The demigod immediately grumbled to himself. He hadn't been fully focusing on his destination; he had let his mind wander to the brief fight. Rookie mistake. He had landed in the hallway instead of the kitchen. It was a minor miracle he didn't get Splinched or land inside a wall.
Percy opened the front door slightly to check the street, and immediately, he stopped dead. He quickly closed the door until it was just a tiny crack, peering out cautiously. He saw a group of shadowy people silently walking up the front path towards Harry's door, stopping right at the lock.
They had wands drawn. Percy could clearly see the faint glint of wood and magic in the dim streetlight. They were looking around carefully; they were keeping watch. Percy swiftly put the pizza box away on a nearby hall table and took out Riptide from his pocket, flicking the cap off.
Harry gets attacked by Dementors out of nowhere, and then, barely an hour later, a group of silent wand-wavers show up sneaking around at his front door?
It had to be an attack orchestrated by Voldemort. The man had probably used the Dementors as a brutal distraction to confuse people and get the Dursleys out of the house, while he quickly sent in his elite strike force to finish the job. They were probably the very best of his dark army, hardened Death Eaters. Percy would need to be extremely careful and hit them hard and fast before they knew what was happening.
He stepped outside silently into the night. The people had just managed to unlock the door with a whispered spell. Percy needed to hurry. He broke into a dead sprint across the lawn. Nine enemies, he counted quickly. Should be easy enough if he caught them off guard.
He was right behind them now. They hadn't noticed his silent approach. He leaped high into the air, twisting his watch dial so his bronze shield popped out, leading the charge. "Hey, shit holes!"
"What the…"
BAMN!
Percy collided forcefully into the back of three people at once, using his shield like a battering ram, and forcefully pushed four others face-first into the hard ground. He then landed smoothly and immediately kicked another robed figure squarely in the gut, sending him flying backwards with a crash through the open doorway and into the Dursleys' pristine kitchen.
"Stupefy!" came a hoarse cry from a sickly-looking man who had managed to stay on his feet.
Percy held up his gleaming bronze shield, perfectly blocking the red blast of light and sending it ricocheting right back at the man, blasting him back a few feet and knocking him flat on his ass.
"Stra…" another wizard began to chant a dark curse, raising his wand.
Percy didn't let him finish. He swung his flat blade and hit the wizard squarely in the face with the heavy bronze pommel. The man dropped instantly to his knees before Percy kicked him hard in the gut, causing him to drop his wand in surprise and pain. Percy then swiftly swept the wand away with his foot and spun around seamlessly to strike at a witch who was attempting to snake up behind him.
His sword flew in a wide, deadly arc before it suddenly, abruptly stopped, hovering mere millimeters from the witch's pale neck. She stood perfectly still, her own wand raised but useless, unable to do a thing as Percy held his razor-sharp blade near her throat.
The demigod's eyes widened in sudden, complete surprise as he registered her violently pink, spiky hair, and then recognized her face. "Tonks?! What the hell are you doing here?!"
The young Auror looked at Percy with wide, terrified eyes, staring cross-eyed at the bronze blade at her throat. "P-Percy?!"
"What's going on down there?!" Harry's panicked voice asked as he suddenly turned on the bright hallway light from atop the stairs, wand in hand.
Percy blinked, the harsh light breaking the tension, and finally looked properly around at the groaning pile of people he had just decimated. The man who he had kicked in the gut and sent flying into the kitchen was Alastor Moody, the real one this time, with his wooden leg and magical eye. The other one who he had kicked in the gut and dropped was a tall, dark-skinned, bald man in flowing robes. And while Percy didn't recognize the sickly, raggedy-looking man whose spell he had reflected back, Harry sure seemed to know him as he gasped loudly from the stairs.
"Professor Lupin?! Professor Moody?! Percy?! What is happening?!"
Percy turned back to Tonks. The other members of the group who he had dashed to the ground with his shield were slowly coming to, groaning in pain, their wands now tightly in their hands and all leveled defensively at him.
The demigod blinked, feeling a sudden, very intense wave of embarrassment wash over him. "Ah... Tonks. Please explain. Quickly."
"Ah... well... we're here to help?" she offered weakly, her eyes darting nervously down to the bronze blade still hovering near her jugular. "Could you... ah... could you please lower your giant sword? It's really kind of big and scary."
Percy snorted, a smirk fighting its way onto his face despite the situation. "Yeah, that's what most women say."
"I didn't mean it like that!" Tonks cried out, her bright pink hair instantly turning a vivid, embarrassed shade of cherry red. "I just meant it looks incredibly deadly, and I would very much prefer if it wasn't hovering anywhere near my neck!"
"Oh my god, is this seriously the time for you two to be flirting?!" a witch who looked to be around her mid-twenties, rubbing her bruised shoulder, asked incredulously from the floor.
Percy blushed a deep red. "R-right," he muttered. He quickly lowered the blade and capped Riptide, putting it away, as the others slowly, cautiously lowered their wands.
Moody grumbled loudly as he and the tall black man got back on their feet, dusting themselves off, and approached Percy, limping slightly. "Albus was right about you, boy," Alastor grumbled, his magical eye whizzing around to look at the damage. "You are definitely a fighter. Hit like a bloody troll, too."
Two minutes later...
They managed to revive the raggedy-looking man, Professor Lupin, and soon they were all gathered tensely in the Dursleys' overly neat kitchen. Harry, Moody, and the raggedy man stood on one side of the island counter, while Tonks, Percy, and the dark-skinned man, Kingsley Shacklebolt, stood on the other.
"So, I'm guessing you're all members of Dumbledore's secret club, the Order?" Percy asked, leaning against the counter.
"That is correct, boy," Alastor nodded, taking a swig from a hip flask. "We're the Advance Guard. We're here to securely bring Potter there to Headquarters."
"HQ? What are you guys talking about? What Order?" Harry demanded, looking between all of them, clearly frustrated. "None of this makes any sense!"