Okay, let's do this. Yes, I know, these stories occur in different timelines, but for this crossover to work, Percy is seventeen and Harry is fourteen. Set in Harry's fourth year, during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Alright, let's start writing this cliched and overused plot, then take it from there. Don't judge me.

One: Not Again…

Percy's POV:

Two words entered my mind when I woke up.

Not again…

Seriously? First the Wolf House, and now wherever this place was? This seems to happen to me a lot. Mentally, I cursed whichever god or goddess put me here. Now where was I? Brazil? Antarctica? For all I knew, I was on another planet. But I certainly wasn't in my bunk.

I opened my eyes slowly, just in case anyone was watching. It didn't seem like I was on another planet, but you never know. The room was pretty big, with large wooden doors and stone arches that made the ceiling. I was lying in a small white bed, not unlike the ones in the camp infirmary. As I remembered that, I felt a little bit of hope in my chest. I didn't lose my memory this time, at least.

The room seemed empty, so I took a small risk and sat up to look around better. There were more beds like mine, all of them perfectly made with white sheets. Some had curtains around them, but none were closed. I looked down at myself and gave a silent thank-you to the gods. I still had my jeans, which means I still had Riptide.

Slowly pushing the covers down, I gently set my feet on the floor. I brought Riptide out of my pocket and crept forward, not making a sound. I was almost to the big wooden double doors when the smaller door on the other side of the room creaked open. I froze, but instead of a monster, a large woman in a weird nurse's uniform came out. She was holding a stack of blankets, so she didn't see me right away. When she finally noticed me, she screamed in surprise and dropped them. I took that as my cue to run.

I turned around and pulled hard on one of the doors. It swung open towards me and I dashed through the opening before the woman could make another sound. I didn't have time to admire the architecture as I ran, but from what I did see, it was pretty amazing. Annabeth would have loved it.

Annabeth. Did she know where I was? Was she okay? Whoever sent me here has a lot of explaining to do.

My feet hit the floor in an almost soothing rhythm as I tried to navigate the halls. Tried being the keyword. It was so confusing, I was probably running around in circles. Eventually, I came across a huge marble staircase that led down. I paused to catch my breath and noticed the strange amount of pictures on the walls. Weird.

Wait, did one of them just blink?

I bolted down the staircase faster than I would have thought possible. I wanted out of this place.

I came across another set of giant wooden double doors, but they looked more intricate and old. I pushed them open without a second thought, hoping they led to an exit.

I was so wrong.

Four hundred kids in long black capes sat at four tables, staring at me. There was a bunch of food that I didn't recognize and some important-looking people sitting at a table that was higher than the others.

I didn't know what to do. There were floating candles, and ghosts, and every instinct I had was screaming at me to run. But something was also telling me to stay. My hand hovered over the pocket that held Riptide, but I didn't want to bring it out in front of a bunch of mortals. But these didn't look like any mortals I've ever seen.

A really old man was standing at a podium, talking. At least, he was talking before I came through the door. He had a really long white beard and crescent-shaped glasses. I was all the way across the very long room from him, but I still recognized the look in his eyes. Hades, I saw it every time I looked in a mirror. He looked weary, like he'd seen death and destruction, but also lively, and trying to act like everything was fine. I knew that look all too well.

Everyone in the room was still for what seemed like hours, but was probably more like three seconds. Then the tables in front of me burst into whispers and noise. I wanted to run so bad, my legs hurt. But again, something made me stay. The important-looking guy with the white hair seemed to realize that the room was falling into chaos and bellowed,

"SILENCE!"

Immediately, the entire room hushed, but I could still feel the looks of caution and curiosity.

All of a sudden, my legs started moving. It was like I had no control over my body, and I didn't like it. I walked stiffly up the space between two of the tables towards the man. I was actively trying to turn around, but I couldn't. Before I knew it, I was standing right in front of him as he quirked an eyebrow, waiting for me to speak.

I sighed inwardly, knowing that this was probably another quest that another god had assigned me. I couldn't leave until I finished it, whatever it was.

"Look, sir," I said in a hushed voice so no one else could hear. "I just woke up with no idea how I got here. I think I'm supposed to help you with something."

Hey, it was all I could come up with without telling him I was a demigod. Granted, Annabeth probably could have come up with something better, but she wasn't here. No one was.

The man studied me, and it was kind of unnerving. His bright blue eyes seemed to see right through me, yet I couldn't tell what he was thinking. He seemed harmless enough, but this close to him I could feel a slight aura of power. Almost like he was a demigod. But who was his godly parent? Could he be a legacy? My brain swirled with questions that I didn't have the answer to. If I asked him about it, there was a chance that he already knew he was a demigod or a legacy, and he'd be able to help me. But if he didn't, he'd think I was crazy.

I tried not to bite my lip as I waited for his response, whatever it may be.

"Who are you?" he asked, not in a menacing way, but like he was genuinely curious. I heard a slight accent in his voice, maybe British? But I wasn't sure. I didn't know what to say. Do I make up a name? Chances are he'll find out my real one anyway, so what the heck.

"My name is Percy. Percy Jackson." I debated telling him my actual real name, Perseus, but decided not to. Names have power.

I watched him carefully for a reaction. It was a good thing, too, because if I wasn't, I might have missed the subtle flash of recognition in his piercing blue eyes. He covered it well, I'm impressed, but I knew he recognized my name. Maybe he heard about the Second Titan War or the Second Giant War, but I didn't know where I was. If this wasn't America, then he probably hadn't. But who knows, he might have, and he might be able to help.

Before I could say anything, he raised a finger, telling me to wait, and looked past me at the tables of kids.

"Students! What a lovely feast. Now that our stomachs are nice and full, I believe we will all need a long night's rest in preparation for the start of the school year. You are all dismissed to your dormitories, first years, follow your house prefects. Good evening, everyone!" To me, he said, "Follow me, Mr. Jackson."

I heard the accent again, but not enough to tell me where I was. Judging by the look of this place, I thought, probably not New York.

The students filed out of the hall, many of them looking back at me and whispering. The older people at the raised table (teachers?) started to get up, but the man in front of me raised a hand at them and they sat back down. By the feel of it, I'd say he was probably the leader, and if this was a school, he'd be the principal. He walked quickly down the length of the table, gesturing for me to follow him. I hurried after him through a side door that I hadn't noticed before.

The door led to a nice-looking room with a fireplace and two couches facing each other. There were some odd pieces of furniture here and there, but to be honest I really wasn't paying attention at that point. I just wanted answers.

Once inside the room, the man relaxed and sat on the couch like he didn't have a care in the world. I sat across from him a little impatiently, waiting for him to speak. For a second, I thought he was going to, but he just reached into one of the pockets in his weird cape-thing and took out a small piece of yellow candy. He unwrapped it, humming a little song. I just looked at him.

He noticed me staring and said, "Care for a lemon drop?"

I shook my head. He shrugged and popped it into his mouth.

"Now," he said, leaning forward a little. "Mr. Jackson. You have no memory of coming here?"

"No," I said. I just left it at that, because I didn't know if I could trust anyone here.

He clasped his hands out in front of him and rested his elbows on his knees. He looked at me with his eyes sparkling in amusement. "My dear boy, if you don't trust me, I can't help you."

I stiffened a little. I knew he was trying to be funny, but I was in no way a boy anymore. I'd led two wars, held up the sky, gone through hell, and almost died more times than I could count. And yet, the gods still found more things for me to do. So I really didn't appreciate the ill-timed joke in this situation.

It must have shown a little more than I thought it did because all the amusement disappeared from the man's expression. Before he could say anything, I stood up.

"Look. I don't know how I got here, or what I'm supposed to do here. I just need information. Starting with where the Hades I am." It came out a little more aggressive than I intended, but the man just leaned back in his seat and looked at me passively.

"Currently, you are in Scotland, at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Wait, witches and wizards are a thing? Like, abracadabra and magic wands? I probably should have been shocked, blown away, or at the very least surprised. But at this point in my demigod life, it is very hard to surprise me. I was more interested in the fact that I was in England.

"I'm in the UK? Oh, this is just great. At least last time I was still in the same country." I muttered.

The man was studying me quietly, like he was hearing a voice in his head. If he was a demigod, that might not have been unlikely.

I decided that if I was going to help these people, who were apparently witches and wizards, I had to know more. Which meant revealing myself as a demigod.

I sighed, hoping he wouldn't mind the sudden subject change. "Listen, I need to know something. Are you... aware… of the old Greek gods?" I waited as he looked at me thoughtfully.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am."

Good, that made it a little easier. "Well, they still exist."

Blunt, but true. There wasn't a great way to sugarcoat this. Fortunately, he didn't show any outward signs of disbelief. Did he already know?

"I know."

Wait, seriously?

"A couple years ago, I happened across a woman who claimed she was the goddess of magic. Of course, I didn't believe it at first, but came to accept it. She told me that centuries ago, she blessed a specific group of muggles to be able to perform magic. These were the four founders of Hogwarts. After that, she almost forgot about it, and the four founders created a secret society of wizards. When she rediscovered this world, she was concerned about a certain wizard by the name of Tom Riddle. He called himself Lord Voldemort. He used magic for dark purposes, and gained a following of wizards that called themselves Death Eaters. He sought to rid the wizarding world of muggle borns and those he deemed unworthy or that opposed him. Many died in those days. Fourteen years ago, Voldemort entered the home of James and Lily Potter, who were some of the leaders of a rebellion against him. He killed them and tried to kill their son, Harry Potter, who was just a baby. But the Killing Curse somehow rebounded upon him, and he was never seen again. However, three years ago, the remains of his soul latched themselves onto a teacher here, and started forming a consciousness again. He tried again to kill Harry, but failed. Two years ago, he tried to kill him again. Last year he did not try anything that we are aware of, but I fear that this year may be different. So does Hecate, the magic goddess."

The man stopped speaking for a moment and stood up, hands behind his back. He began to pace.

"I believe that you have been sent here to protect Harry. This year we are hosting a magical tournament that may be the perfect time for Voldemort to strike. Now, Harry is still underage, so he won't be competing, but he is still in danger."

He stopped pacing and peered at me through his glasses.

"You're job is to keep him alive."

How'd I do? I had a hard time trying to portray Dumbledore, but I think I'd earn at least a passing grade. Hopefully.

This story probably won't be updated as often as my other one, so I'd say once every two weeks? But school is starting soon, so I can't promise anything. Give me some feedback, let me know what you think. Leave a review! They make my day. Check out my PJO story, The Gift Of Gods. Until next time,

LadyHW