Percy Jackson and the Boy Who Lived

Hi! This is my new series I'm working on that is a clash of Percy Jackson and Harry Potter. If you haven't read much of Harry Potter, it's pretty easy to understand but you need to have some background. It takes place now rather than the 90s. It starts in Harry Potter in the Chamber of Secrets where Lockhart started the dueling club and between the second and third Percy Jackson books. This is basically an intro, kinda a background to the story. If you like it please comment!(: Thanks so much for reading and hope you enjoy (also I don't own the characters obviously all rights go to OG authors)!

Look, coming out of a forest filled with monsters in the middle of a brisk and chilly night to a warm and glowing castle might seem weird to you. For Annabeth and I, it was just a normal day. This wasn't some fairytale. Chiron doesn't like to send us too far away, but all the way to Scotland? This seemed urgent. We had to accept going and to make things more complicated we had to bring a 12-year-old undetermined camper named Jack. Which isn't fun and games considering he can't even fight with a balanced sword. I don't even know why Chiron made us bring him, apparently he needs to "accept his destiny as a demi-god" or something.

Jack went running up to the castle, "I belong there," he began to say.

"Hold your horses there, buddy", I grasp his shoulder holding him back, "I might not be a satyr, but I can almost guarantee more monsters are waiting for us in there".

"I'm not sure about this, Percy." Annabeth said concerned, "Jack and I will stay out here and watch. I'm sure this is some sort of scheme."

"I can't just leave you out here alone." I said in reply.

"I know. But call me if you need me." She stated throwing a golden drachma at me then smiling.

I smiled and then looked at Jack, "See you".

"Bye!" Jack replied a little too enthusiastically.

I made my way up to the castle and already faced my first obstacle. A door. The door stood well over 10 feet tall and 6 feet wide. Gods, if only I didn't skip sword practice the week before maybe my arms would be a little less scrawny. I struggled for about 15 minutes hoping no one was around to laugh and managed to get it ajar enough to squeeze myself through.

I stepped through and gasped. I was expecting to see spider webs and dustmites, you know? Old spooky castle stuff? But the place was exquisite. Portraits by the thousands covered the walls and to my left a beautiful hall filled with kids. Two were standing on a table, a blond one on one end and one with jet black hair on the other.

They were both holding sticks. Like they were weapons. You heard it ladies and gentlemen. Sticks. The two children threatened each other with the pieces of wood and I tried to help myself from laughing. Intrigued, I ducked behind a statue so no one would see me and assessed the scene. As I looked more closely, I saw a man with long black greasy hair standing next to the blond boy. He whispered into one of the kid's ears and a snake flew out of the boy's stick as he yelled something in a different language.

"WOO!" I said, and backed up, running through a hallway, into another until I found an empty room that I slid myself into. I waited there for awhile, gathering my thoughts and cursed. I had no idea who those kids were. Some sort of wizard cult? Bent on destroying the world? I didn't know, but I did not want to find out.

Suddenly, someone opened the door. It was one of the kids standing on the table. He had hair and eyes like me, jet black hair that never was able to keep calm and bold green eyes. But he had these weird circular glasses and a profound scar on his forehead that resembled a lightning bolt.

"Umm, sorry". The boy said in a strong British accent, "I didn't know someone was in here."

He looked at me, gasped then backed up. "Who are you?"

"Umm..who are you?"

He observed me and gave a disgusted look at my worn out clothes, "You aren't in uniform. You're not British either."

I laughed, "Tell me something I don't know."

"You're a muggle."

"Didn't know that - a what?"

"Sometimes I wish I was a muggle." He said slouching. "Rarely, but sometimes".

"Umm..okay." I backed up a little bit, this kid was obviously crazy.

"I'm different. Too different, right when I seem to fit in, everything just messes up."

I looked at him, having sympathy because I knew exactly how he felt.

"I guess I can relate to you there." I stated, scratching my head and putting my hand on my pocket, just in case I needed to pull out riptide. I was feeling a tad fishy about this. He smiled then slowly frowned into a look of realization.

"I'm talking to a muggle. At Hogwarts. We need to take to you to Dumbledore."

"Who?" I replied, "Where?"

"Hogwarts. Dumbledore." He ran out of the classroom up the stairs edging me on to follow.

Of course! Let's follow a strange British boy who might be part of a wizarding cult deeper into an unfamiliar castle in a foreign land! I think as he drags me around the castle.

All of a sudden, we came to a halt. "Who goes there?" I heard a stern, voice call out from the other end of the long hall.

"Oh no. Snape.", The boy gasped. He looked around, but there was obviously know where to run.

The teacher with the greasy, black hair began coming down the hallway. Great. The cult leader here to burn me at the stake. He looked at the boy, then at me. He didn't say anything for several seconds and had a very shocked look on his face.

"Out of all the things you've done today, Potter. And now you have this." The man who was in desperate need of a shampoo glared down at me.

The boy, or "Potter" face became pale and his eyes grew wide.

"I..I..the snake..." The Potter boy began to stammer, "I wasn't egging it on!"

"Enough!" The sinister man shouted stomping his foot.

"He was roaming the hallways, Professor. I need to bring him to Dumbledore."

"I'll take care of that." The teacher said, "50 points from Gryffindor, come along." He grabbed me by the arm and gave me a stern look. The man directed me the other way that the boy and I were going previously and brought me through a classroom. At least, I think it's a classroom. There are cauldrons as big as a shoe box to some as big Gabe, my old step-father's, belly.

"You're obviously not a muggle." He said looking down at me, and I feel like I've disappointed him big time.

"Sorry"

"Who are you?"

"Percy."

"Percy who?"

"Jackson." I snort back.

"You're obviously not from England." He stated like he's some sort of Sherlock Holmes deducting clues until he cracks the code.

"Yep. I know."

"Yes. It's yes." He paused for a moment and brought up another Holmes worthy deduction, "You can't be a wizard."

"A what?" I said back, surprised because I was right about the whole wizard hypothesis. I'm never really right, that's Annabeth's job.

"A wizard. You're not telling me something, boy." He said glaring. I looked away from him thinking to myself that I've been in worst situations. So, I did the stupidest thing on my mind. I booked it.

"COME BACK HERE!" He screamed at me chasing me out of the room, I looked back and suddenly crashed into the wall as a variety of different colored liquids crash on my head.