The world seemed to spin around Harry as he watched Professor Quirrell turn to dust right before his eyes. Voldemort, the murder of his parents and many more, gave a sickening laugh, his ghost swirling around him. The last thing he heard before he passed out was the sound of soft footsteps getting louder by the second.

Harry's green eyes slowly opened, the bright sun shined into the room and forced him to close his eyes again. He felt so tired, he was pretty sure he walked around the world three times while battling Voldemort with his bare hands, which he actually did. After another minute or so, he opened them, the figures above him blurry. His hand immediately began to search for his glasses but he yelped in pain as he unexpectedly hit the side of a table. "Calm down, Harry," chuckled a familiar voice. Hermione was Harry's immediate thought. "Ron! Get the nectar and ambrosia and don't spill it!"

Harry sat upright at the sound of his friend's name and in the distance he could make out a flaming-red mess on top of a circle on an orange shirt and jeans. Excitement caused a smile to spread across his face at the mere blurry outline of the redhead. He got closer and gently pushed a cup and a small cube into his hands. The liquid that was now in his hand made him realize how thirsty- and hungry- he was and began gulping down the drink. Harry paused, letting the warm liquid flow down his throat. "It tastes like all the food at Hogwarts," he murmured out loud and then drained the rest of the cup.

Ron smiled, fiddling with his fingers. "Glad you like it. Once you can get up, you'll probably get a tour of the camp."

"Isn't that obvious?", scowled Hermione.

The other boy frowned, staring at the blurry figures in front of him. "Camp?", he asked and stared around the room. He had believed that they were in the Hospital Wing, but a camp? "Can someone get me my glasses?"

The redhead handed over his round glasses and he immediately put them on, ready to examine his surroundings. The room was mostly empty, not including himself and his friends, except for a unconscious or sleeping boy on our right. "Where are we?"

Ron opened his mouth to answer but a small group entered the room. I blinked and stared at the mix of familiar and new faces. The Weasley twins and Neville were among them as well as a blond girl snapping at them and a boy with goat legs. "Get out!", snarled the blond. "You three can't just barge in, you idiots! W-"

"Hey, Harry!", called one of the twins, casually pushing the girl aside, who looked so mad, smoke could've been coming out of her ears. "Welcome!"

"To Camp Half-Blood!", added the other, smiling at him.

"Camp Half-Blood?", Harry echoed.

"Yep!", they answered unison. "Best place for us demigods."

He continued staring, dumbfounded. "Will you two idiots get out?", asked the girl dangerously.

"Do we not get to say hi to our good friend?", Fred (or George), whined playfully.

"Fine, but you better not have the entire Hermes cabin ready to turn this place into a landfill," she hissed, stalking out with the goat boy following.

"We promise!", they called, smirking.

They turned towards the black-haired boy. "Don't mind Annabeth. Probably quite protective of her new boyfriend," one said, glancing over at the knocked out boy.

"Oh," Harry said. "Did you call us demigods?"

"Y-yeah," muttered a small voice.

Harry glanced at the one who spoke and found Neville nervously playing with his fingers. "Hello, N-"

He cut himself off as he caught sight of the furry goat legs that were where his legs should've been. "Neville! Yo-"

"Yeah, I know... I'm a satyr... or half-satyr. My mum was a witch and my dad was a satyr," he said, seemingly interesting his hands.

"What's a satyr?", Harry asked, feeling extremely stupid.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "A nature spirit, Harry. Half-human, half-goat. They age half as fast as humans but Neville ages two times faster than those of his kind."

"Oh."

Neville gestured towards the door. "Mr. D and Chiron would want to see you. We don't want to them waiting," he said, adding something that sounded like 'Especially not him'.

"Oh... okay..."

Harry stumbled out of the bed, Ron helping him stand up. Though it took him an entire minute to steady himself, he managed to follow the a lot less clumsy and a whole lot faster Neville. The minute they stepped outside, he could see a large, but unfamiliar, lake with canoes dotting the clear, blue surface. It was beautiful. An ampitheater was in the center of the grassy area with several buildings and several other things like a circular patch of dirt. Other kids that looked like they'd be sixth years. Horses, both winged and normal, gallopped along a trail with riders laughing on their backs. Some other kids of all ages, the Weasley twins among them, in orange shirts played with each other near a number of cabins near the woods that reminded him of the Forbidden Forest. At the edge of the porch stood two men at a table with the angry blonde- Annabeth- from before leaning against the rail.

The man facing the boys looked like an older version of Dudley with purplish-black hair and a tiger-patterned shirt. "That is Mr. D. He's the camp director so please be polite," he whispered. "The girl is Annabeth Chase, one of the campers from the Athena Cabin. The man in the wheelchair is Chiron."

Harry let the names process as he examined Chiron, the man turning. "Ah! A new player to join us in pinochle! Come over, Harry!"

Neville nudged him towards the table and Harry hesitantly headed towards the table. The older-Dudley-with-black-hair named Mr. D, glanced at him. He sighed and grumbled, "I guess I have to say it. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood. I'd ask you to not expect me to be glad you're here."

Harry scooted towards Chiron, feeling uncomfortable near Mr. D. "Thank you?", he thanked reluctantly. Now Mr. D reminded him of Professor Snape, except he seemed like he was forced to act kindly to his students or campers in this case.

"Annabeth?", called Chiron.

She stepped towards him and glanced momentarily at Harry with narrowed eyes before looking back at Chiron. Just as he was about to speak, another voice joined the conversation. "Mr. Brummer!"

The handicapped man turned towards the voice's owner, a smile clearly visible underneath his shaggy beard. He followed his gaze to see a black-haired boy just a few months older then himself, another boy with curly brown hair and his friends- Ron and Hermione- leaving the house. The brown-haired boy retreated almost immediatly to Neville, who was standing nervously behind Mr. D. The black-haired boy however was still standing there, excitement and disbelief with a hint of sadness shining in his sea-green eyes, not unlike his own. "Ah, good, Percy," he said. "Now we have four for pinochle."

He offered Percy, as he was called, a chair in between Harry and Mr. D, who talked to him in the same way he did to him. After that, Percy pushed the chair away from the camp director and towards me. Chiron/Mr. Brummer glanced at Annabeth. "Now where were we... ah yes. This young lady nursed you back to health, Percy. Annabeth, my dear, why don't you go check on Percy and Harry's bunks? We'll be putting them in cabin eleven for now."

Annabeth agreed and stared at Percy. He followed her gaze and he spotted a large horn that he was gripping tightly. "You drool when you sleep," she said.

I laughed at that and Percy sent me a sideways glare as she ran off. "So... You, uh, work here, Mr. Brunner?", asked an anxious Percy.

"Not Mr. Brunner," he replied. "I'm afraid that was a pseudonym. You may call me Chiron."

"Oh." Harry was 100% sure that Percy was as confused as he was. "And Mr. D ... does that stand for something?"

Mr. D belched- which was extremely Dudley-like- as he stopped shuffling the cards he held. "Young man, names are powerful things. You don't just go around using them for no reason."

"But it's your name, right?", pestered Harry.

"What do you think?", he questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes... sir... Yes, of course. Sorry."

"I must say, Percy," Chiron broke in, "I'm glad to see you alive. It's been a long time since I've made a house call to a potential camper. I'd hate to think I've wasted my time."

"House call?", asked both Harry and Percy.

"My year at Yancy Academy, to instruct you. We have satyrs at most schools, like Neville and Grover, of course, keeping a lookout. But Grover alerted me as soon as he met you. Neville told me of Harry, a celebrity in his own world, as well. They sensed you two were something special, but since Harry already has so much on his shoulders, I went upstate. I convinced the other Latin teacher to ... ah, take a leave of absence."

He blinked. Was that why Neville had tried to keep them from saving the Philosopher's Stone? So they wouldn't die or get hurt? Suddenly, he felt extremely guilty for letting Hermione freeze him. He shook his head and decided to forget the feeling by listening to the conversation. "...We contacted your mother, let her know we were keeping an eye on you in case you were ready for Camp Half-Blood. But you still had so much to learn. Nevertheless, you made it here alive, and that's always the first test," Chiron was saying.

He then looked at Harry. "We also tried contacting your aunt and uncle. I'm not sure they liked the news."

"They don't like anything," Harry muttered miserably.

"Now, Harry, can any regular eleven year-old, wizard or demigod, be able to battle and defeat a troll, walk past a child of Ceberus without a scratch, be able to defeat the strongest dark wizard twice, and make it out alive?"

"Ron defeated the troll," he stated, not stopping to wonder how he could've possibly known.

"But still, young hero. You did the rest with help from your friends. Be proud."

The Boy-Who-Lived sighed and noticed that Percy was staring at him, most likely thinking, you did all that? And how are you? Eleven?

"Are you playing or not?", Mr. D growled impatiently.

He frowned and nodded. "Yes, Mr. D."

He glared at us suspiciously. "You do know how to play pinochle?"

"No," was Harry's answer and Percy's was "I'm afraid not."

"Sir," he growled.

"Sir," they repeated, having shared feelings about the camp director.

"Well," he said, "it is, along with gladiator fighting and Pac-Man, one of the greatest games ever invented by humans. I would expect all civilized young men to know the rules."

Harry was pretty sure not all 'civilized young men' did.

"I'm sure the boys can learn," Chiron said.

"Please," Percy said suddenly, "what is this place? What am I doing here? Mr. Brum-Chiron-why would you go to Yancy Academy just to teach me?"

The other boy looked at the man in the wheelchair, hoping he'd get his silent message. Please answer.

Mr. D snorted as he began to deal the cards. "I asked the same question."

He gave us a sympathetic smile and said, "Harry, Percy, did your families tell you anything?"

Harry immediately shook his. "Nothing. Not about my magic, not about my heritage. Nothing. Ever."

Percy, on the other hand, took a longer time answering. "She said... She told me she was afraid to send me here, even though my father had wanted her to. She said that once I was here, I probably couldn't leave. She wanted to keep me close to her."

"Typical," Mr. D said. "That's how they usually get killed. Young man, are you bidding or not?"

"What?", Percy asked.

He explained, impatiently, how you bid in pinochle, and so he did.

"I'm afraid there's too much to tell," Chiron said. "I'm afraid our usual orientation film won't be sufficient."

"Orientation film?"

"No," Chiron decided. "Well, Percy. You know our friends Grover and Neville are satyrs. You know"-he pointed to the horn in the shoe box-"that you have killed the Minotaur and that Harry has managed to not get himself killed by a three-headed dog. No small feat, either, lads. What you may not know is that great powers are at work in your life. Gods-the forces you call the Greek gods-are very much alive."

Harry blinked in confusion. "Didn't you call Fluffy a 'child of Ceberus' earlier?"

"Fluffy?"

"Hagrid named him Fluffy."

"... Yes... Fluffy... is most likely a child of Ceberus who has three heads, like its father."

"Oh."

Silence. And then, "Oh, a royal marriage. Trick! Trick!"

"Mr. D," the boy next to Neville asked timidly, "if you're not going to eat it, could I have your Diet Coke can?"

"Eh? Oh, all right."

He bit into half the can and gave the rest to Neville, who nibbled on the edges. "Wait," Percy told Chiron. "You're telling me there's such a thing as God?"

"Well, now," Chiron said. "God-capital G, God. That's a different matter altogether. We shan't deal with the metaphysical."

"Metaphysical? But you were just talking about-"

"Ah, gods, plural, as in, great beings that control the forces of nature and human endeavors: the immortal gods of Olympus. That's a smaller matter."

"Smaller?"

"Yes, quite. The gods we discussed in Latin class."

"Zeus, Hera. Apollo. You mean them."

"Who?", asked Harry, befuddled.

Thunder then sounded in the distance.

"Young man," said Mr. D while completely ignoring the boy, "I would really be less casual about throwing those names around, if I were you."

"But they're stories," he argued. "They're myths, to explain lightning and the seasons and stuff. They're what people believed before there was science."

"But there's magic too," added Harry.

"Science!" Mr. D scoffed. "And tell me, Perseus Jackson what will people think of your 'sci-ence' two thousand years from now?" Mr. D continued. "Hmm? They will call it primitive mumbo jumbo. That's what. Oh, I love mortals-they have absolutely no sense of perspective. They think they've come so-o-o far. And have they, Chiron? Look at this boy and tell me."

Harry wondered why had said 'mortal'. Maybe, he also had a Philospher's Stone and came from the beginning of time. Perhaps he didn't like the way the world is changing and looked down at every other human, thinking they were nothing compared to him. Yeah. That sounded right.

"Percy, and you, too, Harry," Chiron said, "you may choose to believe or not, but the fact is that immortal means immortal. Can you imagine that for a moment, never dying? Never fading? Existing, just as you are, for all time?"

"You mean, whether people believed in you or not," Percy answered.

"Exactly," Chiron agreed. "If you were a god, how would you like being called a myth, an old story to explain lightning? What if I told you, Perseus Jackson, that someday people would call you a myth, just created to explain how little boys can get over losing their mothers?"

Those last words made him feel a sudden wave of compassion and pity towards the older boy. He'd never met his mom but he wished he had. Harry couldn't imaagine what it'd be like if he'd known his parents well and suddenly they were dead. "I wouldn't like it. But I don't believe in gods," Percy muttered.

"Oh, you'd better," Mr. D murmured. "Before one of them incinerates you."

The other boy said, "P-please, sir. He's just lost his mother. He's in shock."

"A lucky thing, too," Mr. D grumbled, playing a card. "Bad enough I'm confined to this miserable job, working with boys who don't even believe.''

He waved his hand and a goblet appeared on the table, getting a look of disbelief from Percy and Harry. Harry had soon come to belief that magic had almost no limits, so it wasn't the appearing goblet that surprised him, it was the fact that he had no wand. Then the goblet filled itself with red wine.

"You don't have a wand," Harry said, staring at the goblet.

"I'm not a wizard, young man," he growled, "Therefore, I don't need one."

The word wand seemed to serve as a trigger for his brain. He reached into his pocket to find his trusty wand still inside, which made him relax. "Mr. D," Chiron warned, "your restrictions."

Mr. D looked at the wine and faked his surprise. "Dear me." He looked at the sky and yelled, "Old habits! Sorry!"

Thunder roared in the distance. Mr. D waved his hand again, and the wineglass changed into a fresh can of Diet Coke. He sighed unhappily, popped the top of the soda, and went back to his card game. Chiron winked at me. "Mr. D offended his father a while back, took a fancy to a wood nymph who had been declared off-limits."

"A wood nymph?", asked Harry. "What's a wood nymph?"

"I'm sure your friend Hermione can explain," the man said with a smile, gesturing towards the cabins.

"Yes," Mr. D sighed, ignoring everyone else. "Father loves to punish me. The first time, Prohibition. Ghastly! Absolutely horrid ten years! The second time-well, she really was pretty, and I couldn't stay away-the second time, he sent me here. Half-Blood Hill. Summer camp for brats like you. 'Be a better influence,' he told me. 'Work with youths rather than tearing them down.' Ha. Absolutely unfair."

"And ...", Percy stammered, "your father is ..."

"Di immortales, Chiron," Mr. D said. "I thought you taught this boy the basics. My father is Zeus, of course."

"You're Dionysus, the god of wine."

Mr. D rolled his eyes. "What do they say, these days, Grover? Do the children say, 'Well, duh!'?"

"Y-yes, Mr. D."

"Then, well, duh! Percy Jackson. Did you think I was Aphrodite, perhaps?"

"Who?", Harry interrupted.

"The goddess of love," the other boy explained before glancing back at Dionysus/Mr. D, "You're a god."

"Yes, child."

"A god. You."

The camp director gave Percy a cold glare that I couldn't see but he knew immediately the look must've been terrifying thanks to Percy's petrified look and the answer to Mr. D's question being, 'no, sir.'

The camp director seem satisfied and went back to the game. "I believe I win."

"Not quite, Mr. D," Chiron said. He set down a straight, tallied the points, and said, "The game goes to me."

He sighed and got up, both Neville and his friend staring at him nervously. "I'm tired," Mr. D said. "I believe I'll take a nap before the sing-along tonight. But first, we need to talk, again, about your less-than-perfect performance on this assignment. Both of you."

They both nodded warily and he turned to them. "Cabin eleven, young men. And mind your manners."

He walked off and Grover and Neville followed, miserable. Harry lowered his head guiltily, watching as his friend walked off. "Will they be okay?", he asked.

Chiron nodded. "Old Dionysus isn't really mad. He just hates his job. He's been ... ah, grounded, I guess you would say, and he can't stand waiting another century before he's allowed to go back to Olympus."

"Mount Olympus," Percy said. "You're telling me there really is a palace there?"

"Well now, there's Mount Olympus in Greece. And then there's the home of the gods, the convergence point of their powers, which did indeed used to be on Mount Olympus. It's still called Mount Olympus, out of respect to the old ways, but the palace moves, Percy, just as the gods do."

"You mean the Greek gods are here? Like ... in America?"

"Well, certainly. The gods move with the heart of the West."

"The what?"

"Come now, Percy. What you call 'Western civilization.' Do you think it's just an abstract concept? No, it's a living force. A collective consciousness that has burned bright for thousands of years. The gods are part of it. You might even say they are the source of it, or at least, they are tied so tightly to it that they couldn't possibly fade, not unless all of Western civilization were obliterated. The fire started in Greece. Then, as you well know-or as I hope you know, since you passed my course-the heart of the fire moved to Rome, and so did the gods. Oh, different names, perhaps-Jupiter for Zeus, Venus for Aphrodite, and so on-but the same forces, the same gods."

"And then they died."

Those words got Harry wondering if immortals could die. "Died? No. Did the West die? The gods simply moved, to Germany, to France, to Spain, for a while. Wherever the flame was brightest, the gods were there. They spent several centuries in England. All you need to do is look at the architecture. People do not forget the gods. Every place they've ruled, for the last three thousand years, you can see them in paintings, in statues, on the most important buildings. And yes, Percy, of course they are now in your United States. Look at your symbol, the eagle of Zeus. Look at the statue of Prometheus in Rockefeller Center, the Greek facades of your government buildings in Washington. I defy you to find any American city where the Olympians are not prominently displayed in multiple places. Like it or not-and believe me, plenty of people weren't very fond of Rome, either- America is now the heart of the flame. It is the great power of the West. And so Olympus is here. And we are here."

"I have a question," Harry interuppted.

"Go on."

"How did Ron, Hermione, and I get from the U.K. to... wherever we are?", Harry asked.

"Long Island Sound, young hero, and we simply carried you all here, though it was quite difficult. Luckily, Poseidon granted us safe passage."

"Oh."

"Chiron," Percy asked.

"Yes?"

"Who are you?... Who am I?"

Chiron smiled and gave them a meaningful look. "Who are you?" he mused. "Well, that's the question we all want answered, isn't it? But for now, we should get you a bunk in cabin eleven. There will be new friends to meet. And plenty of time for lessons tomorrow. Besides, there will be s'mores at the campfire tonight, and I simply adore chocolate."

The word 'chocolate' reminded him how hungry he was. Chiron rose from his wheelchair, which Harry didn't even know was possible, and the blanket fell to the ground. Suddenly, the once-handicapped man was towering above them with a horse's body attatched to a man's. "You're a centaur!"

Chiron smiled down at him. "Indeed I am."

"You aren't like the ones back at the Forbidden Forest. They didn't like humans and they kept looking at the stars and saying things like, 'Mars is bright tonight,'" he added.

From where he was standing, Harry could've sworn he saw a flicker of fear shine in his eyes but quickly faded. "My cousins are strange, quite strange. Now, come, Percy Jackson and Harry Potter. Let's meet the other campers."

I've been wanting to do this for a while and all but I don't know how I like this chapter...

A few questions for you, guys:

Should I do this story in first or third pov?

Should Ron be a son of Apollo or Hermes or other?

Should any other Weasley kids/characters from HP be demigods and if so, who should be their godly parent?

Do you like it?

Yeah... so... Favorite, follow, review! (Constructive critisim is very welcome. If you find a problem, please help me fix it/point it out)

...

BYE

~Eagle