Dear readers,

You asked, and I delivered! This is a little combination of multiple HP and PJO ideas that I had. It's going to go in chronological order, assuming that Percy is 17 by the time the school year starts. Harry is in his fifth year (which means Umbridge alert!). Please don't kill me if I get parts of the book wrong! I'm only human! (well, half human, but…)

UPDATE: Thanks to Lovdisa, I have been informed that my line breaks had disappeared! So, they are now fixed! Thanks again, Lovdisa!

Disclaimer: Roses are red, violets are blue, I don't own PJO, HoO, or HP and neither do you (unless you are Rick Riordan or JK Rowling in which case OH MY GODS YOU'RE RICK RIORDAN AND JK ROWLING AND YOU'RE READING MY FANFIC!)

Part 1

Three Years Before Harry Received his Letter to Hogwarts

Six Months After the Fire That Killed Esperanza Valdez

Dudley Dursley thought he knew everything about his cousin. Dudley knew that Harry was weak. Dudley knew that Harry was lame. And Dudley knew that Harry didn't have any friends. Ever.

But Dudley Dursley was wrong.

Harry Potter did have one friend before Hogwarts. It was in third grade, and he only knew his friend for a week, but Harry decided that it still counted.

Harry met his American friend while Dudley was beating him up. Two of Dudley's goons held Harry up while the Big-D himself buried punch after punch in Harry's stomach.

"Cut!" an American voice suddenly screamed. The crowd that had been egging Dudley on froze.

Dudley drew himself up to his full height (which wasn't actually that much, but he still towered over the Latino boy). "Who are you?" he sneered.

The Latino boy smiled. "Your director, Mr. Brad Pitt. Who else? Now, Mr. Pitt, I need you to first scream at Mr. David Tennant about him making your girlfriend break up with you. Did you forget your lines? And Mr. Tennant, remember: three punches, then kick him. Got it? Good. Action!"

No one moved.

The American frowned. "Oh, I do apologize! Lights, camera, ACTION!"

Dudley frowned, his pea sized brain trying to comprehend what was happening.

"Mr. Pitt, you start the scene."

Dudley was still thinking. The goons holding Harry dropped their grip.

"Fine!" the American screamed. "You, sir, are fired!" The boy marched over to Harry and held out his hand. "Come on, Mr. Tennant. Let's go find someone else to act with."

Not one to pass up on an opportunity out of a beating, Harry accepted the hand and scrambled away with the strange boy.

o.O.o

Harry was sitting alone at lunch again, when he felt a presence slide in next to him. Harry tensed, expecting Dudley to throw food in his hair again.

"Hi! I'm Leo."

Harry turned in surprise. The curly haired boy from the day before sat next to him. "Harry," he responded hesitantly.

The Latino frowned. "Why was the fat boy beating you up yesterday?"

"He's my cousin. I live with him, and he hates me," Harry said, scowling.

"What happened to your parents?" Leo was just a tad insensitive.

"They died when I was a baby. Car accident."

Instead of the normal "Oh," followed by silence, Leo spoke in an abnormally quiet voice. "My mom died in a fire six months ago. I never knew my dad. My foster family moved here last week."

A faint smile played on Harry's lips. "So you're like me."

"Orphans," Leo agreed.

"Orphans."

Leo sat with Harry for the rest of the week, just as excited and happy as the day before. On Friday, though, everything was different.

Leo didn't have his lunch by the time Harry sat down. He wasn't smiling, or laughing. Instead, he was scowling.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked.

Leo jumped in surprise. He turned, and looked at Harry solemnly. "I'm leaving."

"What?"

"I'm leaving. Running away. Going back to the States."

"Why?"

Leo just shrugged.

"I don't believe you. Is this another one of your jokes?"

The Latino pulled his bag onto the table. He opened it, revealing all the clothes and money that was stashed in there.

"Leo," Harry asked as gently as an eight year old could, "does this have anything to do with yesterday's brush fire?"

Leo stiffened.

"Leo, fire isn't going to take your new family," Harry said. "Don't worry."

Leo just looked at Harry sadly. There was too much pain and sadness in his eyes for any eight year old. "I just came to say goodbye to you."

"Leo-" Harry trailed off.

The Latino boy shouldered his bag and walked away.

Harry's only friend just walked out of his life.

o.O.o

The Summer of Harry's Fourth Year

The Summer Right After the Battle of the Labyrinth

"Percy. We've landed."

Perseus Jackson slowly opened one eye, then the other. His mother was hovering over him, gently unclenching her son's hands from the armrests of the plane.

"Paul's going to meet his cousins at the baggage claim," Sally told her son as he stood on shaky legs. "We're going to their house for dinner tonight, and then staying for one day. And then we can go sightseeing in London, okay?"

"Okay."

o.O.o

Vernon Dursley had warned Harry about blowing up his aunt again. Aunt Marge wasn't visiting again, but Harry apparently had some other American uncle who recently got engaged to a lady, making her Harry's soon-to-be aunt. Harry hadn't promised anything. He had a little trouble controlling his temper, especially what with the events of last school year. All Harry wanted was to be spending his summer with his newly found godfather.

Harry's chubby uncle held up a sign reading Paul Blofis as a flood of people suddenly crowded in the baggage claim.

"Vernon!" a voice cried.

"That's Paul," Vernon grunted. He turned towards Harry as Aunt Petunia walked over to greet Paul. "Behave yourself, boy."

"Vernon! So good to see you again!" Paul said, shaking Harry's uncle's hand vigorously.

"Yes, you too, Paul. This is our son, Dudley," Uncle Vernon said, pushing Dudley forward.

Dudley, ever the gentleman, held out his hand and said in his most prim and proper voice, "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."

Paul just laughed and shook Dudley's hand. "Oh, but we've met before! When you were just three years old, I came over to say hello before moving to America!"

Harry just kept his eyes downcast, knowing that his aunt and uncle would never introduce him to Paul, and all Paul would know was that he was just there.

"You must be Harry."

Harry looked up in surprise. Paul stood before him, kind eyes twinkling. Harry nodded, and shook Paul's hand.

"Paul! We found our bags! Have you found- oh!" A kind looking woman walked over to them, with a teenage boy in tow.

"Everyone, this is Sally, and her son, Percy."

"Not yours, Paul?" Aunt Petunia asked.

"No," Paul said.

"From a previous marriage then?"

"No," Paul answered.

"Yes," Sally answered at the same time.

They looked at each other.

"Yes," Paul said.

"No," Sally said at the same time.

"Ah," Aunt Petunia remarked.

"Harry, take their bags," Uncle Vernon snapped as he ushered the Americans towards the car.

Sally nudged her son.

"I can help," Percy said, stepping forward and grabbing the two heaviest looking bags. Harry nodded his thanks, then grabbed the last bag, and loaded them into the car.

During the car ride back to 4 Privet Drive, Harry finally got a good look at Percy. He was tan, tall, and muscular, like someone who Dudley wanted to be. Dudley would probably take an immediate liking to Percy.

But Percy, however, had different plans. Percy took a liking to Harry. Which was why, at dinner, Harry ended up sitting in between Paul and Percy.

"It's a little chilly in here, don't you think, Paul?" Petunia asked with a fake smile. "Harry, turn up the fire."

Harry shifted his chair out, and did as he was told, before returning to the table.

Percy just stared at the fire. Fire held a lot of memories for him. It held memories of campfires, roasting marshmallows, and victorious shouts. But fire also reminded Percy of war. And the deaths that come with it.

Tears started to run down Percy's cheeks.

"Call Annabeth," Sally ordered, wiping her son's wet cheeks.

Paul held the phone out, putting it on speaker

"Percy," Annabeth said through the phone, "it's going to be okay. We will win. Try to enjoy your dinner without anymore distractions?"

Percy laughed shakily, taking the phone. He turned off the speaker. "Okay...Yeah...I will...Wise Girl...Yeah...Miss you too...Yeah...Say hi for me...Okay...Okay...Bye." Percy hung up. He looked at the people around the table, then at the untouched food, then back at the people. "Shall we eat?"

o.O.o

Harry woke up sweating. He knew that he had a nightmare. All he could hope was that he hadn't woken up-

"Hey."

-Percy. Percy had decided to sleep on the floor of Harry's bedroom rather than Dudley's (in other words, he liked Harry better than Dudley).

"Percy," Harry said, fumbling for his glasses. "I'm sorry I woke you up."

Percy laughed hollowly. "I've been up for a couple hours. Had my own nightmare. Who died?"

Harry shoved his glasses on his nose and clicked the light on. The expression on Percy's face wasn't the smug, arrogant look that Dudley wore whenever he teased Harry about his nightmares. Rather, it was the look of someone who understood what it was to see death before you, and to be tormented about it in your dreams.

"You don't have to answer that," Percy said hastily, seeing the hesitation on Harry's face.

"No, I get it." Harry took a deep breath. "My parents were killed when I was a baby. I wasn't. But I still get nightmares about it."

"That much is pretty obvious," Percy remarked.

Harry just gave a breathy laugh. "Who's Annabeth?"

"Annabeth is the girl who Paul called. She's my...friend, I guess," he said, blushing. "We went through some really tough times this summer. We both don't like to remember it, and when we do-well, it's hard to stop remembering."

The clock by Harry's bed beeped. 12:00. Midnight. It was officially August 15.

"Oh!" Percy exclaimed. "Happy birthday exactly half a month late!"

"What?" Harry asked, confused. "How did you know?"

"Paul," Percy clarified. He rummaged through his bag a bit. Percy pulled out a shirt. "Here."

Harry took it. "My friend went to New York and all I got was this stupid shirt," he read. "Funny."

Percy shrugged. "Saw it at the airport and remembered Paul mentioning just missing your birthday by fifteen days."

"Thank you," Harry said.

Percy just nodded. "I'm sorry I didn't get you anything more."

"No, really. Thank you. This is the best thing I've gotten from a family member for my birthday."

Errol chose that exact moment to crash into Harry's window.

Percy walked over to the window and pulled the bird inside like it was the most normal thing to do. "Annabeth?" he asked, sticking his head out of the window again.

"What?" Harry inquired, untying the package on Errol's leg. "Why would your friend be here? And what does that have to do with this owl?"

Percy scratched the back of his neck. "Um, my girlfriend has an owl fetish?" He said it more like a question than an answer.

Harry gave him a skeptical look.

"Oh, gee. Would you look at the time! Time to go back to sleep!"

Harry spared Percy a glance as he placed Errol near Hedwig. Percy was most definitely not asleep. Percy was hiding something.

But then again, wasn't Harry hiding something too?

Wow! That was kinda long! I was originally going to split it up into two chapters, but then they both were really short, so voila! Giant first chapter!

Time for new thing! This is a Does anyone else… It's basically a weird quirk that I have that I want to know if anyone else does! Answer in a review, PM, whatever, but I'd love to hear about your little quirks!

Does anyone else read stuff like "haha" in a complete and total deadpan?

Love,

Mer