Determination. Destination. Deliberation. It was drilled into his head by then, the Apparation teacher had repeated it so many times, it would be impossible for anyone to forget. But he was still nervous. This was the first time practicing outside of Hogwarts, and if Al messed up, who knew what might happen? What if he got splinched, and no one was around to help him? No. He couldn't think that. He had to think of determination, destination, and deliberation, not what might happen if he wasn't sufficiently deliberate or determined or whatever nonsense it was that caused your body to split apart so horridly. Yes. That was better. And he was relieved to feel the semi-familiar but all too memorable sensation—that of vanishing into thin air—reach all of him. This meant that everything was okay—he had done it. Albus was safe from being splinched, he was sure.

That was lovely, of course, being confident that all of his limbs were still attached. What was considerably less pleasant, however, was appearing in the middle of a cluttered apartment that was clearly not anywhere near Hogsmeade.

A boy with dark hair broke away at once from his conversation with a fierce-looking blond girl at the loud pop that came from Al's Apparating. They appeared to be slightly older than he was, with faces that reminded him of his family, with eyes that seemed to belong to much older people—like they had seen too much. There were streaks of gray in their hair that surely shouldn't have been there. They couldn't be that much older, after all. Strange.

Al didn't know what to do, no matter how old they were. He would have guessed that this was a Muggle home by the way the people were dressed—T-shirts the same color as the Chudley Cannon's robes and ratty blue-turned-almost-white jeans. So he played it cool. At least, as cool as Albus could get under pressure (this wasn't very). "Hey," he said, as nonchalantly at he could manage.

"Percy, do you know him? He can't be a monster, can he?" the blond girl whispered.

The boy, Percy, seemed too busy taking in the whole scene to reply. His eyes scanned first the Hogwarts robes—of course he would, being a Muggle—and then the messy hair, and then his eyes. There was something in the boy's expression that made Al think he understood who was standing before him. But he couldn't. After all, a Muggle wouldn't know Albus Potter. It was absurd… At last, when Al was sure he would burst from wondering what was to happen, Percy's green eyes shone with the light of realization. "I know you!"

"You do?" said his companion. "Who is he? He isn't dangerous?"

Al wasn't too fond of their talking of him a though he wasn't at all there, but he said nothing, waiting for the boy's explanation.

"You were on the cover of that book, the one the guard was reading at the Empire State Building," he said excitedly. "Harry Potter."

Albus had heard enough of their voices to conclude that he wasn't even in the same country anymore, yet the boy still seemed to know Albus's father. Foreign Muggles knowing about the magical world that lay an ocean away… How very odd. "Well, no. I'm not Harry Potter."

Percy seemed to be on the verge of asking, "Are you sure?", but decided against it for fear of sounding stupid. He settled instead by saying, "Oh."

"Yeah," Al said. "I, er, do look a rather lot like him."

The blond girl's steel eyes raced along with her mind as she thought up a million possibilities at the speed of light. Al was reminded irresistibly of Aunt Hermione. She seemed to have reached her conclusion, for she said, "Harry Potter... I read somewhere—"

"Of course," Al murmured, still thinking of his aunt.

"—when those books were set... Oh, when was it? Honestly, there was a long article about the whole series. Why am I not remembering this?"

"Well," Al said nervously. His voice shook only slightly as he continued, wondering what the Ministry would do with him for this. "I'll save you the trouble of thinking on this longer and cut to the chase, okay?" The two nodded. "I'm his son."

"Of course. So, would you care to introduce yourself further?"

Feeling that he would rather not give his identity away further in case of the results this event could have, he said, "Not really. Would you care to introduce yourselves?"

"Percy, age seventeen. Half-bl—"

"Percy, you really need to learn to shut up about that," the blond hissed. She then turned to Al again.

"Annabeth, age seventeen."

Al felt a bit cheated, he had to admit. He was hoping they would be the type to delve into their life stories so he knew just what was safe to tell them. Throwing caution to the wind, he said, "How about those Chudley Cannons?" While it only increased the tension in the room, it was one of the only ice-breaker phrases he had really learned. Besides, it was a good was to see if they were Muggles or not without being too obvious.

"Annabeth," Percy whispered, "is that a weapon? Chudley Cannons?" He was holding tightly to a ballpoint pen that stuck slightly out of his pocket.

She too seemed slightly nervous, but kept her tone calm when she replied. "No. I'd have read about it, wouldn't I, if it were something that was, you know..."

"It's a sports team," Al said quickly. He didn't want them thinking he was a killer, after all. Harry Potter's son, going after innocent Muggles! The Prophet would have fun with that headline.

Looking slightly calmer, the boy said, "What sport?"

He just had to ask that, didn't he? He couldn't even name a sport played my Muggles. He'd heard somewhere, though, hadn't he? Yes, yes. He must have. "Foot-base," Al said quickly, pleased with his clever answer.

The instant he saw the matching confused expressions, he knew he'd said the wrong thing entirely.

"What?"

"Er…"

The girl called Annabeth reached for something in her belt loop, while Percy had taken the pen out, and looked surprisingly thoughtful about whether or not he should uncap it.

He did.

That boy must have been a wizard, too. And wandmakers in this country must have had a fondness for hiding wands in odd places, for the pen had immediately become one. The girl too was holding a wand out at Al.

"Oh, so you're wizards! That's brilliant. I Apparated from—"

Both looked as confused as they had when he had tried the give them the name of a Muggle sport. "Wizard?"

"Well, you'd be a witch, wouldn't you?" said Al to the blond girl.

For some reason, Annabeth looked offended.

Percy spoke up. "We're half-bloods," he said, sounding irritated.

Annabeth shot a glare that rivaled the stare of Al's mother, which, as anyone who had been victim to one could tell you, was no easy feat.

Al let out a slight groan at the term "half-blood". These people—at least Percy—cared about purity of blood. But, that did mean one thing; they were definitely wizards.

"So, you're seventeen! You can send me back! Side-along Apparation!"

Annabeth looked deeply annoyed. Her eyes pierced him in a way that clearly said, "Have you no intelligence?" It was the same look he had gotten from Rose on countless occasions.

"You passed the test, didn't you? You have your license?" asked Al, voice trembling ever so slightly. Of course when he found a witch and wizard, they would be unable to Apparate.

"Apparate?" said Annabeth. "You mean like the gods, appearing and disappearing wherever they please? Of course we can't!"

"Well, you'll have to get me back somehow!" he shouted angrily. How stupid could these people get, never hearing about the Cannons, shouting about their blood status, and unable to Apparate?

Annabeth drew in a great breath, and let it out all at once by saying in a voice that had decided there really was no other option "How? Where do you live?"

"I Apparated from Hogsmeade."

"Where?"

Naturally they wouldn't know about Hogsmeade either. "Er, you wouldn't know where Hogwarts is, would you?" He wandered toward the window, looking longingly for any sign of his destination at all.

He tripped on a book that seemed to have only ever been shoved into a bag. How lucky. Just what he needed now. He extended his arm to break his fall. Maybe he'd get lucky. The floor didn't look too welcoming, not at all. He collided painfully with the ground, but not before something purple that surely had not been there before caught his eye.

"Is he okay? Should we give him ambrosia? Nectar? His arm could be broken; that was a pretty nasty crunch I heard."

Indeed, Al's right arm was feeling about as pleasant as it did when it had been splinched clean off from the elbow down during his second Apparation lesson. Lovely.

But, could it possibly be what he thought it was?

"No, he might not be a demigod," his friend whispered back. "What will we do then; just spread his ashes over that Hogsmeade place and forget he ever existed?"

He used all the strength in his left arm to pull himself back up. He had to see what that purple was doing here. Looking back at the window, Al nearly yelled in excitement. It was the Knight Bus.

"I've got to go! Bye! It's been a pleasure. Hope to see you again sometime."

And with that, Albus raced down the staircase, doing his best to ignore the biting pain in his arm which was growing increasingly worse. He'd just go up to the Hospital Wing and have it fixed. Yes, that was good enough to keep it from invading his mind for now. He had to catch that bus. Another staircase and Al was darting through the doors, straight into the traffic-filled street.

"There you are," said a voice from beside the Knight Bus. It was a girl, chewing Droobles and looking at him with an annoyed expression. "We've been waiting for ages. Well? Pay up? We won't wait much longer, you know." A large blue bubble bloomed from her mouth and floated away.

"How much?"

"Where are you going?"

Feeling Hogsmeade's Apparation lesson would have ended, Al said, "Hogwarts."

"Reckon that'll be a galleon, won't it, Stan?"

"At least," called a voice from inside the bus, evidently Stan.

"That's a good price you're getting."

A galleon for a bus ride? That was ridiculous! Then again, judging by both the accents and the way traffic was moving, he was rather farther from home than he'd ever been. For the second time today, Al had good luck. There had been money in his pocket, in case he managed sneak off from the group to get some of those new sweets he heard about. He handed her the galleon.

"Go ahead," said the woman, with a grand gesture to the bus's interior.

"Choo need us to go all the way over here for?" Stan asked.

"I, er, Apparated here by mistake," said Al, and he felt his face heat up unpleasantly. To distract himself from the pain in his arm and hide the fuchsia creeping to his cheeks, he looked out the window, back to the apartment building. He tried to find the one he'd ended up in. There, fourth to the right, third up. Percy and Annabeth had raised their wands once more. He squinted, trying to catch their expressions. Were they confused or angry or even scared? Wait—their wands! They weren't wands at all, were they? Even through the haze that seemed to surround them, he could tell that the girl was holding a knife, and the boy a sword.

It was a good thing the Knight Bus moved quickly, because Al had a lot of questions to ask when he returned.

AN: Thanks to my wonderful bet reader, wisegirlweasley. I think it's pretty obvious that this is set after the war (in both books), ignoring The Lost Hero, and in Albus's sixth year. I figure that if you're allowed to have Harry and Percy in the same year, you're allowed to do this, too, without use of a time-turner or something. In addition, I figure that if Percy had seen a book with a wizard, it was likely Harry Potter. Of course, it is highly unlikely that he would remember it in many years, but... Thanks for reading, and if you have any other questions, I'd be glad to answer them.