A/N: Hey guys! The idea of this came from these words: Percy, Harry, House, and Fire. Those four words set forth a worldwide sensation like U-No-Poo. I'm kidding. But I'll pretend, anyway, since I can't be the lucky owner of Harry Potter or Percy Jackson… *goes to emo corner and sobs dramatically*
For the sake of this story, kindly pretend that Percy can get SMALL cuts, but other than that he's invincible (besides, you know, the Achilles point…)
Yo~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**This Is SPARTA-I mean, a line break!**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Yo
"Another, Tom!" George yelled as he slammed down his bottle. Tom nodded hesitantly as he reached for another firewhiskey from the cabinet.
It had been months since the death of Fred. MONTHS. And yet George mourned. After all, Fred was his twin, his partner in pranking. Without him, George felt like he was missing his legs. Drunk, he rose from his seat, staggering out of The Leaky Cauldron.
George pulled out his wand. It stood out in the darkness. It was so unfair, how both of them had looked forward so much to using magic outside of school. Fred had died without getting his fair share... Except for in the war.
Suddenly, George was overcome with a strange notion-that maybe if he did all the magic that Fred would have done, Fred would somehow come back. Well, George was drunk, so his judgment was rather skewed. His judgment on exactly what Fred would do was quite off as well…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**********************Ignore me, just a little ol' line break. My name is Bob, by the way***************************************************~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
George raced through the streets, giggling like a maniac and trailing flames off of his wand. He had Apparated from The Leaky Cauldron to New York, ignoring the fact that it was ten times more likely that he would be Splinched. Somehow, he was fine of body-but not so much of mental state. Also, he had managed to light the brick buildings on fire. Magic. Duh.
One of the apartments that George lit on fire was coincidentally the home of a Perseus Jackson. Huh. Poor Percy. This kind of thing only happens to him, doesn't it? All that he knew was that first, he was sitting in his room, recovering from Seven Cruel Hours Of Our Lives-also known as SCHOOL-staring at a picture of someone *ahem* 'close' to him with blond hair, stormy gray eyes, and with the Goddess of Wisdom as a mother *coughcoughANNABETHsneezecough* , and out of nowhere-boom. Fire. In a brick building. Luckily, Sally and Paul were out for dinner. Percy ran as fast as he could out of his room, clutching Annabeth's picture and Riptide, expecting a fire-breathing Drakon. Instead, when he leaped down from the fire escape, he saw a crazy person waving around a…Stick? Apparently a very different stick, as it was the source of all the fire. Percy panicked-no water around and several buildings on fire-and then he saw the fire hydrant. And slapped himself. Quickly, he manipulated it so that in no time, water was shooting towards the fire. He had to give whoever invented those things credit, there was a lot more water in there than you would think, but it still wasn't enough. Knowing fully that he would most likely pass out, he summoned the water from within himself. Quite literally tons and tons of seawater poured onto the burning apartment buildings. Exhausted, Percy fell to his knees and passed out immediately onto the pavement.
George kindled the last bit of fire from his wand and let it free. He giggled crazily again, thinking of his 'clever' plan. After the last of the flames had been set free, he would use the Aguamenti spell and clear it all out. It would scare everyone, and nobody would be killed. The perfect prank-to his addled mind. Before he could start the spell, however, water spilled forth out of nowhere and extinguished the fire. Oh, well. George heard a thump from somewhere to the left of him, then collapsed himself, succumbing to the alcohol in his system.
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At the Ministry:
"Ow…." George groaned, waking up with a world record hangover. In front of him were some Ministry officers.
"Mister George Weasley, you are under arrest for breaking the International Statue of Secrecy and harming several Muggle families!"
George had no idea what he was talking about. "Wh-what?"
One of the officers sighed. "Aw, great. He was drunk."
"Technically, we can't press charges against him, then. He was drunk!" Another officer argued.
"It's his fault for being drunk! And we have a passed out teen in one of the other rooms!" Yet another officer pointed out.
"You don't know that, and his twin brother died in the final battle a few months back. You can't blame him, and George Weasley is free of charge." A familiar voice spoke, and George focused on that. "Harry? What are you doing here?"
"Here's what happened," Harry said, dragging George out of the cell. "Apparently, you got drunk on a few bottles of Ogden's Finest Old Firewhiskey-" Fred smiled a sheepish grin. "Hey, I don't blame you! First thing I did after the war was get drunk." Harry said. "Then, you somehow Apparated to Manhattan, Greater New York without Splinching, and, erm… Set several buildings on fire."
George gawked at Harry, in shock and in horror. "What? I didn't-Anyone-"
Harry clicked his tongue. "See, this is where things get a little confusing. One of the apartments was harboring a teenage boy. He ran out when he saw the fire, and somehow put it all out-without a wand."
If George was gawking before, his jaw was now on the ground. "Huh?"
Harry sighed. "Yup. He was holding two things; a picture of a girl, probably a girlfriend, and a pen."
Puzzlement was easily shown on George's face. "The picture I can get, but a pen?
"That's what we thought too, until we uncapped it. Then it turned into a sword."
"HUH? Wait, it's probably just a Transfiguration spell."
"No, I don't think so. He didn't have a wand on him, and he just seems… Different. The thing is, the edges were razor-sharp, but when someone accidently grazed their finger on it, the sword didn't leave a mark."
George was just about to pass out. "This doesn't make any sense."
"Yeah, it didn't hurt any of us. But then, one of the crazy idiots took the sword and used it to cut part of the guy's hand."
George was repelled. "What the bloody hell is wrong with them?"
"A lot of things that I can't even name. Anyway, it didn't hurt any of us, but it sure as hell cut him. And his blood wasn't even actual blood. Yeah, it was red, but it was sort of… Sparkly."
George snorted. "First of all, it's probably the light. Second, is Ginny forcing you to read the Twilight Saga? If so, stop. It's horrible."
"As if I would ever read that! But no, not the light. It was shining like gold, and there actually was gold in his blood."
"Whoa."
"Whoa is right. We've never heard of anything like this before."
George shook his head. "Anyways, how are you here? Aren't you too young to be an Auror?"
" Well, they pushed the rules for 'The Famous Harry Potter'. They did the same for Ron, and Hermione's thinking about joining too." Just then, the named ginger walked into the room.
"Hey, George. Why didn't you contact us? By the way," Ron continued before George could explain, "you're cleared of all charges. But-" He said, making George's expression deflate. "They want to ask you a few questions before you go."
I don't even remember anything! George screamed in his head. He was about to say so when Ron informed Harry, "There's a new witch in the Muggle part of the Ministry. Says she wants to write your biography."
Harry groaned. "No, not again…"
"Yup. I told her that it might take up seven books, she said she could deal with that," Ron said, shaking his head in amazement. "She seems like a good person though, and maybe a good writer. Her name's Joanne Rowling, if you want to talk to her later."
George was suddenly hit by guilt. He had been so lost in grief that he hadn't even checked up on his own family and close friends. He didn't even know that his little bro had finally made it in the world. Had he been really that much out of it? Apparently, yes. Harry had been offered books about him. Ron was an Auror three years early. How on Earth… Could he have missed all of this?
"So, anyway," Harry's voice brought George back to reality. "The officers want you to stop by and answer a few questions-and maybe help with that Percy Jackson."
"How do you know his name?"
"He talks in his sleep."
Oh.
Several hours later:
"Mr. George Weasley? Come with us." Two men stood at the door. Reluctantly, George got up and followed them out.
In a room with one-way glass, George sat down and was immediately attacked with a question.
"What happened that night?"
George scowled. Sheesh, don't these guys have any logic?
"Like I said beforehand, I was drunk. The last thing I remember was drinking at The Leaky Cauldron, and next thing I know, I'm here."
"Wait." One of the guys opened a very tiny bottle of Veritaserum (as in, one mL) and handed it to George. "Bottoms up," he said gruffly.
George swallowed it. When the men again asked what happened, George replied the same way. As he only drank a bit of the potion, the effects wore off almost immediately.
"Believe me now?" he asked.
The two officers looked at each other and hesitantly nodded. "We want you to see that teen, though," one said. "Maybe you can identify him."
George groaned silently. I mean, really, he never even saw that boy before!
Looking through the one-way glass, he saw a teen-about 16 years old- lying on a cot. He was mumbling, and spells picked up the mumblings. He was saying "Fire… Good thing that Sa… Man with a stick…"
George felt guilty. One of the guys noticed George's expression and said, "Don't worry. Somehow, he wasn't burned."
Okay, first a disappearing pen-sword, now unable to burn. Then what? Invulnerability?
Then, George peered closer at this 'Percy Jackson'. There was a gray streak of hair in the middle of the nest of black. Huh? Then he looked at the hand. There was a cut there, with blood showing. Harry was right-there was a glimmer of gold in the red. But right then, he also thought about what Harry said-someone cut him.
He turned on the Ministry officers. "You said he wasn't injured!" He shot out.
The first man shook his head. "I said he wasn't burnt. If you want to know why he's hurt, ask this imbecile here," he said, kicking the leg of the other.
Suddenly, the door swung open. In walked our favorite bushy-haired big-brain… Hermione Granger.
"Hey, Hermione!" George said. "Why are you here?"
"They accepted me just now,": she replied. As usual, she was holding a bag stuffed with books. She took one glance at the cut on Percy's hand and jumped.
"Merlin's pants!" she cried.
"What in the name of Merlin's most baggy pants is it?" George asked, a bit shocked.
Ignoring him, she rummaged in her book, looking for something until pulling out the books The Monster Book of Monsters and Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.
"You still have those?" George asked.
Hermione said "Shush!" without even looking up. With a quick stroke to the spine of the sharp-toothed book, she flipped through the pages until she found a dog-eared one. Then she opened up the second book and stopped at a certain page. With great excitement, she stood up and shoved the book right into their faces.
Demigods
Demigods, or Half-Bloods, are like centaurs-part human. More exactly, they are half-human and half Greek god. While it is unsure if these creatures even exist, if they do, they have power more than a human's. The blood of a Demigod is red, but may or may not have traces of gold-the ichor that flows through a god's veins.
Most demigods inherit traits, skills, or powers from their godly parent. It is even said that the four founders of Hogwarts were either children of or blessed by Hecate (or Hekate), goddess of magic.
However, most demigods do not survive to adulthood. They are constantly hunted by monsters, such as the Minotaur (See pg. 54) or Dracnae (pg. 67). As their godly parents are not allowed to directly interfere with their lives, more demigods die than live. Monsters can only be killed using a special metal, called Celestial Bronze. While this cannot cut humans (mortals), it can harm other demigods or gods. Demigods, being both god and human, are vulnerable to both godly and mortal weapons. Demigods, if they exist, can most likely be found in America or Greece.
List of Notable Figures in History that are Probable/Possible Demigods:
After that, there was a long list of skilled witches and wizards.
"You see?" Hermione asked, eyes sparking with excitement. "It would explain his blood! And the scars…"
She trailed off, gesturing at the limp body in the next room. Each person looked closer at the now-presumed Demigod, seeing many scars on his hands, legs, and some even on his face. The gray streak in his hair was most likely another result of a monster attack.
Then, from the back of the room; "Bloody hell, mate. When he wakes up, we better make sure he doesn't kill us all."
Harry and Ron had been in the back, listening.
Ron just had to jinx it.
For just then, Percy Jackson woke up and looked around. The first words out of his mouth were;
"Where the Hades am I?"
A/N: Review, you lot. REVIEW! OR THE MINISTRY SHALL HUNT YOU DOWN!
Kidding. But really. Review.
~Girl on Fire 75