It was an alright night, starless, the smell of rain in the air.
Clouds coated the entire sky as Harry Potter walked home, his cousin Dudley Dursley in tow.
As the only light in the tunnel flickered out and died, Dudley complained about something.
"Stop doing that! You're making it cold in here!"
A feet few forward, Harry realized what really had been making it cold.
"Run!" he yelled, but Dudley, being a muggle and not knowing WHAT to run from, ran straight towards them.
"Expecto Patronum!"
"Expecto Patronum!"
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
Finally, this time it worked, but suddenly, Harry had a worse problem on his hands- the boy.
He was Latino with dark brown hair and brown eyes, wearing an orange T-shirt that said something on it that Harry couldn't see in the dim light (since the only light came back on) and jeans. The most odd thing abut him wasn't actually the toolbelt around his waist, but the fact that he looked like he'd been rolling in ashes.
The boy ran down the tunnel towards him and Dudley, being chased by his own dementor.
When he got closer, Harry could see that the boy was around his age, fifteen or sixteen.
Suddenly, he turned around, and blasted the dementor with a white-hot bolt of fire from his hands.
He unsheathed a dagger that Harry had't even known he had and threw it like a throwing knife at the monster.
"Hey, do you think you can summon that stag thing again? It would help- a lot." his voice had an American accent.
It did't matter- the dementor dissapeared in a puff of smoke.
All that was left was the boy's knife.
He picked it up and turned it in his hands.
"Man, am I glad that Annabeth let me borrow this." he sheathed his weapon.
"Er..." was all Harry said, his mind blown.
"Well, see ya!"