A/N: Well, if you've found my story, then you may have just been browsing A) the Percy Jackson/Harry Potter crossover library, or B) My profile. Well, welcome to My Name Is Mabel, a fic I've been planning. Well, I've only planned up to Mabel's second Hogwarts year (still waiting for the House of Hades to come out before I can finish planning (hopefully!).) Anyway, enjoy and all that lot!
Full Summery: You can't tell by looking at me that I'm a girl who has more secrets than hairs on her head. But that's to be expected, right? My name is Mabel, and this is my story.
Mabel Weasley is an anomaly; the daughter of a Goddess and a Wizard. To everyone else, she's just an ordinary girl. But, with two secrets threatening to spill, she is under more pressure than most. As everything in her life changes, who will be there to pick Mabel up when her whole world seems to break around her?
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. Percy Jackson belongs to Rick Riordan (and NOT the other way around!). OC's belong to me. No copyright infringement intended.
Chapter One
Before September Comes
If you're reading this, you probably don't know anything about me. I wouldn't expect you to. If you're reading this because you think it is fan-fiction, great. Good for you. If you know better... Well, maybe you ought to click the back button. This story isn't for you.
You see, I didn't ask to be what I am. It's hereditary, you see, and I just can't get rid of it. It's as if my whole life is a secret. Tell one and you end up in a cell. Tell another, you're burnt to a crisp. Sometimes I really hate my life.
My name is Mabel Weasley, and I am a demigod. A half-blood. I am also a witch. As far as anyone knows, I am the only child of a Goddess and a Wizard ever born. And experiment. One-of-a-kind. An anomaly. Now, this may sound cool, but it really isn't. Being a demigod, most of the time, get's you killed in nasty, painful ways. Being a witch, most of the time, means you get used in nasty, spiteful ways.
So, you see, life isn't exactly fun.
Oh, don't get me wrong, it used to be! Back before I boarded the Hogwarts express for the first time. Still, strange things did happen to me back then, sometimes. Maybe the summer of 2010, the year I was due to depart for Hogwarts, will do the explaining for me...
I was in the meadow outside our cottage, lying on the grass and making daisy chains. It was a sunny day, quite warm, and everything was rather... perfect.
Then, something strange happened. Something... unusual.
From the shadows under a cherry tree, a shape emerged, morphing into a boy, a couple of years older than me. He had shaggy black hair and glinting dark eyes, and he wore a torn, bloodied and stained aviator's jacket. He looked up at me, blood trickling from his mouth.
"Where's your father?" he asked. "I need to speak with him."
I just stared in horror. The boy took a step towards me, limping. I screamed.
From the front door ran Dad, his red hair wet from showering. He grabbed the boy and helped him inside, locking me out of the house. I was forced to sit there all morning, and when I came inside, the boy was gone. When I asked Dad about him, he claimed he didn't know what I was talking about.
About a week after that, I was up at the reserve, helping Dad take care of Norbert, one of his favourite dragons. He's a Norwegian Ridgeback, and really very friendly. I was tossing him chunks of meat when a large, glittering creature jumped from the lake behind me. I only every saw its tail disappearing into the waters, before it disappeared. I sighed and turned back to Norbert.
"Hei, băiat,*" I said, tossing him another chunk of meat. The blood from the raw slabs covered my hand, but I didn't think anything of it, until I heard a scream.
"Mabel, child, what on earth did that creature do to you?"
I spun around to see Grandma Weasley staring at me in shock. I grinned.
"Grandma!" I cried, running over to hug her. She hugged me back before letting me go and grabbing my arm.
"Heavens, girl, what did the dragon do to you? I always told your father, it's irresponsible, a girl shouldn't be allowed to work with such dangerous beasts-"
I interrupted her, laughing. "Norbert never did anything! The blood is from all the meat, is all."
"That's all, Mabel, not is all," she corrected me, vanishing the blood from my hand. I scowled. It wasn't my fault, I was still learning English. Having grown up on a dragon reserve in Romania, run mostly by Romanians, I had spoken Romanian long before I spoke English. Of course, with my whole family being British, I could speak it quite fluently- I just messed up things sometimes.
"So, what are you doing here?" I asked, tossing the last of the meat to Norbert and picking up the feeding bucket. I walked by Grandma Weasley's side, the both of us heading towards the office.
"Did you get your Hogwarts letter, back on your birthday?"
"Yes."
"Well, I was planning on taking you to get your school things. School starts in a month, after all."
I stopped, my face lighting up. "You are serious?" I asked, a grin breaking out on my face. "I'm getting my school things?"
"Well, I certainly wouldn't come all this way for nothing!"
I squealed and hugged her. "Thank you, Grandma, thank you!"
"Don't mention it, Mabel."
I ran towards the office, ditching the bucket near the door. "Dad!" I yelled. "Dad, guess what, guess what?"
"Snot?" Dad asked, coming out of the back room. I giggled.
"No!" I squealed, disgusted. "Grandma Weasley's here, she's taking me to Diagon Alley, I'm getting my school things!"
"Fantastic, Mabes!"
"I know!"
Granma Weasley entered the office, smiling. "Hello, Charlie."
"Hello, Mum," Dad greeted. "How's things back home?"
"Well, you would know, if you bothered to show up on Sundays!"
"Sorry, Mum," Dad said, wincing. "I try, I really do. Things are a little hectic here, and someone has to take care of the dragons, right?"
Grandma sniffed. "Sometimes I think you care more about dragons than family. Come on, Mabel, we'd best get going..."
"Alright!" I agreed, jumping to my feet and grabbing her hand.
"See you later, Charlie," Grandma called.
"Yes, bye Dad!" I piped up. Then Grandma turned on the spot and apparated us away.
Apparation has to be the strangest sensation. It makes you sick and dizzy with your eyes open, and even with your eyes closed it's horrible. It's like speeding through thew dark at the speed of light, all your limbs being stretched and then squeezed. You choke and you can't breathe, and it gives you the strangest pressure in your gut. Then, it's over in what could be a couple seconds or a couple millennia.
I blinked and looked around. We were stood outside Gringott's bank, and we seemed to be waiting for someone. I'd only been to Diagon Alley thrice before- there are plenty of magical towns in Romania, after all.
"Mrs Weasley!" came a voice, and we spun around to see my Uncle Harry coming out of the bank, with him a boy with bright, teal-blue hair and bottle-green eyes. He grinned at me, waving. I waved back.
Teddy Lupin isn't really family, but he's treated as such. He's Uncle Harry's Godson, making us Godcousins, I suppose. If you're wondering about the hair, Teddy happens to be a metamorphmagus (that means he can change his appearance at will, which is, if you don't mind me saying, immensely cool).
"Hello Harry!" Grandma greeted, hugging Uncle Harry, and then tapping Teddy on the nose. "And you, Teddy," she added with a smile.
"Hi, Mabel, how're you?" Uncle Harry asked me.
"Great," I said with a grin. Harry nodded and turned to talk to Grandma, while I dropped back to walk beside Teddy.
"Hey, Mabes, how's Romania?" he asked.
"Good," I replied. "The dragons are all doing great."
Teddy snorted. "I swear you love dragons more than your Dad does!" I shook my head.
"No-one loves dragons more than Dad. No-one."
He laughed and we talked about the usual (mainly what my hoards of cousins were getting up to). Teddy was only a year older than me, so we were quite good friends. He'd floo me every so often, telling me stuff about Britain. I'd sometimes tell him about the resort, but there isn't really much to tell.
Last stop on our list, after fetching everything was Ollivanders, the famed wand shop. Uncle Harry told us about Garrick Ollivander, who had sold him his first wand, and how he was glad Gavin Ollivander, his son and successor, wasn't as creepy. I chuckled and pushed open the door.
At once, a blonde-haired man with startling grey eyes popped up in front of me. His hair stood up on end and one of his eyes was magnified by a monocle. He actually looked quite demented.
"Oh, a first-year!" he chirped, and darted towards the shelves, picking up a stack of boxes and struggling to carry them back. He eventually dropped them with a crash on the desk and waved at them, his arms wild. "Go try, go try!" he cried.
I step forward hesitantly, taking a box from the pile and opening it. All the while Mr Ollivander bobbed around my shoulders. I swear, that man is more ADHD than me (and really, that's saying something). He nodded as I picked up the wand.
"Vine, twelve-and-a-half inches, core of unicorn tail hair, reasonably supple," he said. I waved the wand, but nothing happened. I picked up another box, this time from the very bottom of the pile, and the seventy or something so boxes tumbled to the floor. I yelped and bent to pick them up, when my hand brushed against a wand that had fallen from the box. Heat surged through my arm and a picked it up, giving it the tiniest of flicks. A large splattering of green sparks shot from the end, and Mr Ollivander burst into frenzied applause.
"That would be dogwood, eleven inches, with a core of dragon heartstring. Pliant. That will be seven galleons, thank you very much."
And that, dear readers, is how I got my very first wand. Now all that was left for me to do was to get to Hogwarts and start using it...