INTRO

She claimed not to be, but I could tell she was nervous. Annabeth was spouting architecture facts like crazy. I seriously wanted to kick the guy that wrote three different revisions of Hogwarts, a History.

Actually sorry, I would have to kick the girl that wrote the book – Bathilda Bagshot by the way - and I know this because Annabeth couldn't help but spew some background items from the author's past. Gods, I knew school was going to be tough, but going to magic school with Annabeth – it's gonna be like walking through Tartarus.

Let me back-track. You see, it's not every day that teenagers are demigods, which of course puts me on the main stage, seeming as I'm half-mortal and half- son of the god of the sea, Poseidon. And that's not all too bad, since I never really fit in with the mortal world, and I never would have met my best friends, Annabeth (another unfortunate demigod) and Grover (a vegetarian), but it gets worse.

Not only am I a super rare demigod, but I also get to be given three consecutive prophecies. That's awesome, they say. You must be a Hero and live on Olympus, they say. No, that's not really how it works.

I'm not saying I don't love Camp Half-blood – I really do – but I love camp the same way you would love your parents. There's archery and amazing meals and pegasi! But then there are archery incidents and dishes after meals and what happens to pegasi after eating meals, if you know what I mean. Along with hugs and allowance, there's grounding and chores, which also, by the way, also exists at Camp Half-blood. So after a day of mucking out Pegasus stalls (ok, really it was only for about 30 mins, and the rest of the day was pretty great, but you get the gist of it), I wanted to unwind, that's reasonable, right? Take some time, have a can of coke, kiss my girlfriend, you know?

But clearly, us untrustworthy, rowdy, world-saving teenage demigods must be under constant supervision and locked in after dark. Obviously that's not something I deem worthy of stopping me from enjoying myself after a long August day.

Don't get me wrong either – I don't try to break the rules, I'm not that kind of person, but after the summer I had, Titans resurrecting themselves and such, I figured I deserved a pass.

So here I am, when I think I'm out of the spotlight, backstage, chilling by the docks after dark, waiting for my girlfriend, when this stupid harpy flies by. And I don't really dislike the harpies that much – they clean my cabin, that's their job, and they also serve as our guards, because that's their job – but this really was a stupid harpy. Normally I wouldn't ever want to be caught by a harpy, because even with their unassuming chicken-like features – they can be lethal. But as with all demigod issues, this was not a normal situation, because I would have rather had my eyelids plucked off than be stuck in the mess I was getting myself into.

So this red feathery harpy didn't notice me, even after I slipped into the lake out of surprise after her sweeping past me at 60mph. She still didn't notice me, even after one of the prettier nymphs at the bottom of the lake gave me a wink and blew me a bubble, and my face getting red enough to be a beacon. And oh gods, I wish that bird-lady had noticed me and tried to bite my ears off, because I got just enough confidence to think that this flying chicken would never see me, and got hyped enough to be a real seaweed brain, when I noticed Annabeth trying to sneak around this dumb harpy. And I laughed.

I stupidly laughed out loud and dragged myself onto the pier. And Annabeth, noticing me laughing, noticing the harpy not caring, laughed along with me, loud enough for Rachel to wake up in her nearby cave.

You see, Rachel is my mortal friend, who started off as a mortal stranger but after saving my life twice we realized she was a special mortal, and after a couple quests, couple prophecies, BAM my only normal friend becomes the Oracle.

She gets to live at camp in a sick State-of-the-Art cave, enjoy meals sans chores, and hang out with a great group of people. That's awesome, they say. She can see the future and enjoy her summer, they say.

But of course, like all other non-mortal things, Oracle's and their prophecies are only good for one thing – giving me shit for half year. They don't tell you who's going to die, or when or where. They don't tell you how to survive or if you even will. But what they're really good at is assigning me to quests that I really don't want to be on.

But Rachel had already spewed a little bit of smoke and a little bit of poetry and a bunch of confusing Greek metaphors, and all I knew was that I was not mentioned in this supposed "Prophecy of the Seven". So I thought I was off the hook when it came to Rachel and her green smoke episodes and quests and gods needing help.

Turns out, all the Oracle needed was a nudge, a little nudge like waking up in the middle of the night from the sound of two demigods laughing by the lake, to have an epiphany in which she felt a spiritual poem coming on.

And guess what- What, they say, you're off the hook for this lifetime? they say. Nope, no that's not what happened. Instead, I was delivered the news that once again, I'd have to pack my bags, because it was time for a quest. To the wizarding world.

Aha please don't judge me too harshly; this was written on a whim and Percy is sounding way more obnoxious on paper than he did in my head. Woops!
I have tons of ideas for him once he gets to Hogwarts that aren't too cliché and that might not make you cringe as you read it! Hold tight, follow the story if you have any hope, and I'll update soon!