A/N: Some information before the first chapter... This story is set after the war with Kronos, and during Harry's fifth year at Hogwarts. The second Great Prophecy about the Seven has not occurred at all. I hope you enjoy it!

No, this will not be like most demigods at Hogwarts stories. Because the Giant War hasn't yet happened, there won't be ten demigods at Hogwarts, making chaos — only two. If you don't like the story by the eighth-ish chapter, I suggest you don't keep reading. But I suggest you read more than the first chapter, because all it is is the intro. So give my story a chance, yeah? :D

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POVs: Harry, Percy

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Percy Jackson and the Olympians. They belong to J.K. Rowling and Rick Riordan.

Chapter 1

My hearing was over. Dumbledore had left in quite a hurry, for what reason I wasn't sure. I was back at 12 Grimmauld Place, overjoyed and relieved at the fact that I hadn't been expelled from Hogwarts. My use of underage magic to protect Dudley from those Dementors almost two months ago had almost gotten me expelled from my favorite place in the world — my home. But now that the hearing at the Ministry was over, and I was back with Ron and Hermione at the Blacks' old home, I sat back and let out a sigh of relief. Ron and Hermione, of course, were overjoyed — incredibly happy, really — that I hadn't been expelled. And Fred, George, and Ginny were all doing some strange jig around the house, yelling "HE GOT OFF, HE GOT OFF, HE GOT OFF!" to celebrate my "victory" at the hearing. Their dance was severely annoying Mrs. Weasley, who had to constantly yell back at them and tell her sons and daughter to be quiet.

Sirius, I had noted, seemed even more withdrawn and further away from all of the rest of us and the Order of the Phoenix when he got the news that I hadn't been expelled. Hermione seemed to think that he was really lonely, maybe confused about whether I was my father, James, or really me. She even said once that she thought Sirius might have hoped I could have lived with him as an outcast if I got expelled, and I got a bit mad and yelled at her for that.

The end of the summer approached rapidly after my hearing had ended, and I looked back on it. I had saved Dudley from a Dementor's Kiss. I had met the Order of the Phoenix for the first time and was now staying in 12 Grimmauld Place until it was time to go back to Hogwarts. I had not gotten expelled from my favorite place in the world — I was going back as a fifth year in only a week or so. I was sweeping up Hedwig's owl pellets and droppings one day in Ron's and my room when Ron walked in with our booklists, which had only just arrived. Apparently, we only needed two new books for this year: The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5 by Miranda Goshawk and Defensive Magical Theory by William Slinkhard. Just then, Fred and George Apparated into the room with a loud crack and started speculating on who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

Ron gasped, looking at his letter. Fred and George moved to his side and looked at the card, and gasped in unison. "Prefect?!" they shouted. Sure enough, a prefect badge slid out of Ron's letter. Hermione burst into the room and declared that she'd been made a Prefect, and was utterly stunned to see that Ron was one as well. And then Mrs. Weasley came into the room, and when she found out that "her ickle Ronniekins" had been made a prefect…

"We'll have to give you a reward for this, Ron! Prefect! What do you want? New dress robes? A new rat?" she exclaimed, bubbling over her son.

"What about a broom?" he asked. "Not expensive, any broom will do," he added when his mother's face fell, most likely thinking about how expensive a broom would be for the family.

"Of course, Ron. We'll get you a broom." She then left, still babbling to herself proudly. Fred and George proceeded to make fun of their younger brother before finally Disapparating with another loud crack. Ron left to tell his mother what type of broomstick he wanted. Hermione took Hedwig to owl her parents about her success. It was only then that I realized how jealous I was of Ron and Hermione. I'd been fighting Voldemort since I was eleven; I'd won the Triwizard Tournament last year and seen Voldemort return. And yet, I had apparently still not impressed Dumbledore enough to be made a prefect.

And then I immediately felt guilty for feeling jealous of my friends. I shouldn't be mean to Ron when he'd finally beaten me at something. I'd done enough; I didn't need to be a prefect to be happy. So when Ron came back into the room, grinning happily at the prospect of a new broom, I congratulated him on his being made a prefect wholeheartedly, all traces of my previous bout of jealousy gone.

I didn't really have anything to say. Rachel was already getting up, showing no signs of having just given another prophecy. A prophecy directly involving Annabeth and I.

Was I dreaming? I hoped so. If so, I wanted to wake up. I wanted to wake up now.

But no, of course I wasn't dreaming. The one time I wanted to be dreaming, I wasn't. I sighed in defeat and looked out the nearest window, seeing the azure blue sky there. One would have thought that with Kronos's essence scattered to the winds and the furthest corner of the earth one week ago, we'd be able to relax. But noooo.

My hand made its way behind my back and lightly touched the small of my back. My one weak point. Annabeth, seeing my movement, wrapped her warm hand around mine and tugged my arm away from the spot.

"Well," said Mr. D, at a loss for words for what I presumed was the first time in his life. He spluttered as he tried to form a coherent sentence. Instead, Chiron took over. He crossed his arms and shifted his hooves. Clip clop, they insisted upon the decayed, washed-out wooden floors of the Big House. Clip clop.

"Can we just ignore it?" I asked hopefully. I didn't want to be the subject of another prophecy. If Rachel tried to spew out one more thing, I'd have to throw her off the cliff, Oracle and all.

"No, Percy, I am afraid we can't do that. It's been well over two centuries that we've had a prophecy that called for specific demigods. We tried to ignore it that time."

"What happened?" I asked innocently.

"They died," Annabeth interrupted, folding her arms over her chest. I rolled my eyes, though I knew that my sarcasm was a show of extreme disrespect. I was just as surprised as she was that they had died in ignoring a prophecy.

I looked back at Rachel, who had sat down on an armchair, looking paler than usual but still donning her normal ripped, faded jeans and tie-dye. I suppressed a shudder, the image of the python called the Oracle of Delphi slithering out of Rachel's mouth and onto the floor imprinted on the inside of my eyelids. I rested my fingers lightly on Annabeth's waist, trying not to come off as too protective. She didn't bat an eyelash at the movement. Her laptop, Delta symbol glowing blue, was held in her arms against her body. She carried the thing everywhere.

We were the only ones in the Big House at the moment — everyone else was attending to their camp duties: flying pegasi, practicing in the arena, scaling the lava rock wall, canoeing in the lake — but we were spending some time away from that at the moment. Not because we wanted to, of course. But because there was a certain Oracle who had just felt the need to spew out another poem today.

"So what are we supposed to do?" She directed her question to Chiron. Rachel's expression was worried, her red eyebrows furrowed as she processed the atmosphere around her. It was full of dread and fear, and why did I know that? Well, as a demigod, I could feel it too. I wouldn't be surprised should rain clouds zoom in and start pouring onto Camp Half-Blood.

Just looking at Rachel caused my mind to flash back to only three minutes ago. Rachel had doubled over, her face turning expressionless and her eyes glossing over, now glowing green. I'd seen it only once before, a week ago, when Rachel had embraced the spirit of Delphi, but it still scared the hell out of me. It reminded me of May Castellan, with her sudden, demonic fits of prophecy. I banished the thought from my head, going over the prophecy Rachel had given instead.

"The boy of green eyes, son of the Sea,

Shall help protect the wand-wielding three,

The girl of gray eyes, daughter of the Wise,

Shall help defeat an enemy that cannot die

In a world not mortal, but entirely weird,

Led there by the man with the silver beard."

"Perce? Percy!"

Annabeth was looking at me again, an eyebrow raised. "I missed that. What again?"

Dionysus gave an exasperated sigh. "Incredible. Well, Peter, if you are so arrogant as to not listen when a god is talking to you… ugh, all right, I'll say it again," he said to the ceiling as thunder boomed.

"We are not really sure what to do yet, Peter. Rachel said that a man with a purple—"

"Silver," Annabeth corrected.

"—yes, silver, whatever, a man with a silver beard was supposed to take you there. Do you see any gray beards around?"

I shook my head stupidly, knowing that if it was a prophecy concerning us, it would unfold by itself.

"Well then, Pedro, we will simply have to wait and see what happens. For now, I suggest you both leave and go back to your duties."

I opened my mouth to protest but Annabeth was already tugging me out of the room.

"I think they're hiding something," she said as soon as we reached the mess hall.

"Like what?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe they know something about the 'man with the silver beard'."

"Wise Girl, relax. It may be a while before this prophecy unfolds, remember?" I wrapped an arm around her shoulder, laughing.

"Uh-huh," she said skeptically, but a smile was forming on her face already.

"How about we go and do some more planning to redesign Mt. Home of the Gods?"

She nodded enthusiastically, pulling me down for a chaste kiss before sitting down on the bench of a table and opening up Daedalus' computer once more. "How about we don't worry for a while, Seaweed Brain?"

I nodded and sat down next to her, putting my arms behind my head and stretching out. "Now you're talking."