Hello again, ladies and gentlemen! Today we have all gathered here to read the next part of this story! So lay back in your chairs or beds or couches or sofas or whatever and enjoy the chapter.

Yes, yes. Late than usual. Sorry.

Thank you again very much to all those who reviewed, and those who said that I was a good writer and that this was a great story.

: Your welcome… Though I'm not really sure what you're thanking me for. I write for fun and the enjoyment of my wonderful readers! In fact, it's me who should be thanking you for the positive review. So thank you.

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Aussiemerica16: Glad I am, that you like it. As for your question, no, he will not. But Demeter will bless his, so he should be fine. I'm also planning to have Neville receive a gift from his mother.

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Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, Sirius wouldn't have died. If I owned Percy Jackson, Luke would have never died but rather redeemed himself before his possession by Kronos at the end of Battle of the Labyrinth.

-Line Break-

The next few days Harry settled into his usual routine, except now he was doing border patrol in the evenings. Then there were the new upcoming chariot-races. He wasn't participating, he'd rather not lose his limbs in some old-fashioned Ancient Greek car-race in which weapons and 'dirty tricks' were allowed, thank you very much. Killing would result in "harsh" punishment. No s'mores by the campfire for a week. Yep. You heard it. Very harsh.

He tried flying on the pegasi, with Silena Beauregard giving him advices. He did it pretty well, though he wasn't completely comfortable with it. He liked his broom better.

He practiced archery, but the lessons weren't the same without Chiron. So he spent his time helping the others along with the Apollo Cabin. The Apollo cabin kind of treated him like he was one their own siblings. Harry was worried that they would take their parents' sibling rivalry to heart, but it was no higher than what it would have been if they had been actual siblings.

After lunch, he went to swordplay, and wasn't that surprised to find Percy there, bored, and cutting straight through dummies.

His eyes met Harry's, and relief surged through them. Huh, guess he was looking for an actual opponent.

Harry went in the arena and drew Sagittarius and flipped out his sword. "Ready for a defeat, Kelpie?" Harry asked as they circled each other. Kelpie was a magical water creature that resided in rivers and streams only. It had the shape of a fish-tailed horse in water, but could assume the shape of a horse, or a handsome man, on dry land.

"I should be the one asking you that, Tarzan." Harry rolled his eyes. Percy had given him the nickname 'Tarzan' last summer when they were talking about the quest, when he learned that the lion had called Harry the 'Prince of the Wild'.

Without warning, Percy charged and swung his sword. Harry blocked with his own and pushed him back. He retaliated with a left to right diagonal upward slash, but Percy blocked it and their swords clashed. Percy pulled his own back and swiped at Harry but Harry moved out of the way and spun on the spot swinging his sword. Percy ducked, but Harry sliced off a small chunk of his hair.

The fight continued on, until once Harry stepped back a little, leaving Percy free to charge again. And that he did, but this time swung his sword more tactically. Harry barely moved out of the way, since he knew he wouldn't be able to counter. He brought his sword up in an arc and Percy clashed his own with it, with Harry's blade close to Percy's hilt, which was just what Harry wanted. He had learned a new technique, and wanted to try it out. He twisted the sword (so that it was even more close to Percy's sword's hilt) and pushed upward with all the force he could apply at the moment. Riptide went soaring through the air just above them and landed upside-down about five feet away. Harry pushed Percy so he lay on the ground flat on his back, and put his sword on his neck.

"Yield?" Harry questioned triumphantly.

Percy sighed. "Fine. I yield." He said. "What's the score anyway?"

Harry turned his knife into his wand and waved it in front of him. "Comparari Numero." He said. A spell he found in one of the apps he downloaded from the store of his laptop. It allowed the user to compare two or more number-series registered with one magical signature. (Meaning, that if he used the spell, comparing as many number-series as he wanted to, adding or subtracting numbers to or from them, as long as his magical signature remained the same, the next time he performed the spell it would show the same number-series, the same he left them the last time he performed the spell, unless he resetted any all of them. Oh, did he forget? He could also assign colours to each and every one to differentiate between them.)

A sea-green and silver mist billowed out of his wand. The sea-green one formed the number 13 while the silver one formed 12. Harry concentrated, and the silver one changed to 13.

"13-all." Harry said. Percy got up and looked at himself.

"Well, I'll go for a shower then, see you later Tarzan!" Percy said and went off.

Oh, yeah, now, about the 'score'. Harry and Percy had had quite a few spars against each other last summer, and while one of them would win the spars, it was often that the other won the next and the next, and then the first would catch up, or something similar. So they decided to play a little game. They would record their wins, and the first one to reach 50 would win the game. They recorded by writing on paper for sometime, but then Harry found the spell.

Harry was about to go himself when his eyes landed on a figure standing just next to the arena, seemingly watching them.

It was Neville.

He was just standing there, looking awed. Harry had an idea. Chiron wasn't here to find him his weapon, so why not? After all, Tantalus sure as hell wasn't going to do it, and Harry already knew Neville, so…

Harry smiled at Neville. He asked him to come with him, asking him along the way what did he think of the camp so far, and how was he coping. He answered telling him that the camp was great, along with his siblings, who had shown him around the camp, and helped him cope.

Harry led him to the armory, and started handing him swords. When they had tried just about every size, and not one of them had felt right, Harry moved on to daggers. He found just the right size, which fit perfectly in Neville's hand.

He practiced in the arena with Neville, correcting his stance every now and then, teaching him all different types of jabs and thrusts and slashes and strikes he could remember.

After sometime, Harry noticed that Neville was a natural with a dagger, just like Harry was with a bow, but there seemed to be something missing…

Often, Harry noticed that Neville was using both of his hands while practicing on dummies. Once, Neville almost struck a dummy with his free hand, as if he was thinking there was a dagger there too.

Harry figured it out. He told Neville to wait. He went back to the armory and fetched the same type of dagger of the same size. He gave Neville the dagger and told him to practice with it. Neville did better than he did before with one dagger, and moved very gracefully with them.

Neville also told Harry that his wand wasn't working for him anymore, no matter how hard he tried, or how correctly he did the wand movement, or how well he pronounced the spell, not one spell worked.

Harry answered telling him that it was because his godly heritage was revealed and not to worry about it.

After all that, Harry ultimately went to Arts & Crafts. He was currently making a design, on a silver sheet. He had started it, but his mind wasn't in it anymore.

Then came the morning everyone had been waiting for: the morning for the chariot race.

The morning of the race was hot and humid. Fog lay low on the ground. Thousands of birds were roosting in the trees-fat grey and white pigeons, except they did not coo like regular pigeons. They made an annoying metallic screeching sound that made Harry suspect that they were some kind of monsters. They seemed content to sit and watch. He decided to keep an eye on them just in case.

The racetrack had been built in a grassy field between the archery range and the woods. Hephaestus' cabin had used the bronze bulls, which were completely tame since they had had their heads smashed in, to plow an oval track in a matter of minutes. There were rows of stone steps for spectators-Tantalus, the satyrs, a few dryads, and all of the campers who weren't participating. Mr. D did not show up. He never got up before ten.

"Right!" Tantalus announced as the teams began to assemble. A naiad had brought him a big platter of pastries, and as Tantalus spoke, his right hand chased a chocolate eclair across the judge's table.

"You all know the rules. A quarter-mile track. Twice around to win. Two horses per chariot. Each team will consist of a driver and a fighter. Weapons are allowed. Dirty tricks are expected. But try not to kill anybody!" Tantalus smiled at them like they were all naughty children, "Any killing will result in harsh punishment. No s'mores at the campfire for a week! Now ready your chariots!"

Oh, yeah, Harry thought sarcastically. Very harsh.

Beckendorf led the Hephaestus team onto the track. They had a cool ride made of bronze and iron-even the horses, which were magical automatons similar to the Colchis bulls. Harry had no doubt that their chariot had all kinds of mechanical traps and more fancy options than James Bond's Aston Martin.

The Ares chariot was blood red, and pulled by two grisly horse skeletons. Clarisse climbed aboard with a batch of javelins, spiked balls, caltrops, and a bunch of other nasty toys.

Apollo's chariot was trim and graceful and completely gold, pulled by two beautiful palominos. Their fighter was armed with a bow, though he had promised not to shoot regular pointed arrows at the opposing drivers.

Poseidon's chariot looked cool too. It was blue and white, with wave designs on the sides and a trident painted on the front. Percy somehow got permission to use the pegasi to pull the chariot under the condition that if they start flying, his team would be disqualified. Considering that pegasi were much stronger and faster than the horses of the same size, he certainly got a good deal.

Hermes' chariot was green and had an archaic appearance, as if it had not been out of the garage in years. It didn't look like anything special, but it was manned by the Stoll brothers, and Harry was a little excited to see what dirty tricks they had schemed up. Only a little.

That left Annabeth's chariot.

Harry noticed Percy talking to Annabeth and wondered what it was about. Soon, the conch horn sounded.

"Charioteers!" Tantalus called. "To your mark!"

Percy and Annabeth returned to their respective chariots. Everyone maneuvered their chariots to the starting line.

An interesting fact Harry came to know about a Greek chariot was that it was built for speed, not safety or comfort. It was basically a wooden basket, open at the back, mounted on an axle between two wheels. The driver stood up the whole time, and he or she could feel every bump in the road. The carriage was made of such light wood that if someone wiped out making the hairpin turns at either end of the track, he or she would probably tip over and crush both the chariot and himself or herself. Harry wondered how many comedic scenes he would get to see.

As the chariots lined up, more shiny-eyed pigeons gathered in the woods. They were screeching so loudly the other campers in the stands were starting to take notice, glancing nervously at the trees, which shivered under the weight of the birds. Tantalus didn't look concerned, but he did have to speak up to be heard over the noise.

"Charioteers!" He shouted. "Attend your mark!"

He waved his hand and the starting signal dropped. The chariots roared to life. Hooves thundered against the dirt. The crowd cheered.

The moment the race started, Hermes chariot rammed into Apollo chariot causing it to flip over. The riders were thrown free, but their panicked horses dragged the golden chariot diagonally across the track. The Hermes team, Travis and Connor Stoll, were laughing at their supposed good luck, but not for long. The Apollo horses crashed into theirs, and the Hermes chariot flipped too, leaving a pile of broken wood and four rearing horses in the dust. Two chariots down in the first twenty feet.

Annabeth was on lead making her turn around the first post followed by Percy, Beckendorf and in the last Clarisse. Soon, Hephaestus chariot started gaining on Poseidon's chariot. When they were level, Beckendorf released three sets of balls and chains which would have wrecked Percy's chariot if Tyson had not whacked them aside with a long pole. He then gave the Hephaestus chariot a good shove and sent them skittering sideways while they pulled ahead.

It was then that Harry noticed something concerning. The 'pigeons' had risen from the trees. They were spiraling like a huge tornado, heading toward the track. It was only a matter of time before they reached the stands. He looked around and realised that, other than Lee Fletcher, all the leaders were participating in the race and were too busy to notice the problem. He ignored Tantalus chasing after pastries as he was useless anyway.

Lee then put two fingers in his mouth and let out a high pitched whistle. Everyone turned to look at him. He pointed out the rapidly approaching horde of demonic birds and they quickly stood up looking at him for orders. It seemed Annabeth had even prepared for an eventuality where neither she nor Clarisse was there.

Harry got up, drew Sagittarius and flipped out his bow. He nocked around six or seven arrows at a time and shot. About ten to fifteen of them went down each time he did. He forced himself to think. Which monster was this? He knew he'd heard or read about these kind of birds somewhere, but where?

Harry had knocked about hundred birds with his arrows. It hadn't made even a dent in their numbers.

He vaguely heard Annabeth yelling from the tracks, "Stymphalian birds! They'll strip everyone to bones if we don't drive them away!"

Harry' eyes widened in realization. Ah… So that was where he had heard it. The twelve tasks of Hercules.

Okay… so how were they defeated by Hercules? He thought to himself as he continued firing arrows. Right! He defeated them using bells. The stymphalian birds hate noise!

He was about to voice his thoughts, when it seemed Annabeth and Percy had thought of it before him. At the finish line, loud music filled the air-the All-Time Greatest Hits of Dean Martin. Ah. Chiron's favourite. Harry noticed that the boom box itself was Chiron's. Clever.

Suddenly the air was filled with violins and a bunch of guys moaning in Italian.

The demon pigeons went nuts. They started flying in circles, running into each other like they wanted to bash their own brains out. Then they abandoned the track altogether and flew skyward in a huge dark wave.

"Now!" shouted Annabeth. "Archers!"

Harry shot as many arrows as he could in one go. The Apollo archers sprung into action again and within minutes, the ground was littered with dead bronze-beaked pigeons, and the survivors were a distant trail of smoke on the horizon.

The camp was saved, but the wreckage wasn't pretty. Most of the chariots had been completely destroyed. Almost everyone was wounded, bleeding from multiple bird pecks. The kids from Aphrodite's cabin were screaming because their hairdos had been ruined and their clothes pooped on.

"Bravo!" Tantalus said, but he wasn't looking at Percy or Annabeth. "We have our first winner!"
Harry facepalmed.

He walked to the finish line and awarded the golden laurels for the race to a stunned-looking Clarisse.

Then he turned and gave a wicked smile to Percy. "And now to punish the troublemakers who disrupted this race."

-Line Break-

The way Tantalus saw it, the Stymphalian birds had simply been minding their own business in the woods and would not have attacked if Annabeth, Tyson, and Percy hadn't disturbed them with our bad chariot driving.

This was so completely unfair, Percy told Tantalus to go chase a doughnut (which didn't help his mood), and Harry had to keep using all he had to keep himself from slapping Tantalus right then and there in the face. It didn't stop him from sending him the Tickling Hex when his back was turned though.

He sentenced Annabeth, Percy, and Tyson to kitchen patrol-scrubbing pots and platters all afternoon in the underground kitchen with the cleaning harpies. The harpies washed with lava instead of water, to get that extra-clean sparkle and kill ninety-nine point nine percent of all germs, so Annabeth and Percy would have to wear asbestos gloves and aprons.

And, on top of that, to add to trio's misery, it seemed, the bastard ordered a special luncheon banquet to celebrate Clarisse's chariot victory-a full-course meal featuring country-fried Stymphalian death-bird.

Really, this guy was testing Harry's patience.

That night at the campfire, Apollo's cabin led the sing-along. They tried to get everybody's spirits up, but it wasn't easy after that afternoon's bird attack. They all sat around a semicircle of stone steps, singing halfheartedly and watching the bonfire blaze while the Apollo guys strummed their guitars and picked their lyres.

They did all the standard camp numbers: "Down by the Aegean," "I Am My Own Great-Great-Great-Great-Grandpa," "This Land is Minos's Land." The bonfire was enchanted, so the louder you sang, the higher it rose, changing color and heat with the mood of the crowd. On a good night, Harry had seen it twenty feet high, bright purple, and so hot the whole front row's marshmallows burst into the flames. Tonight, the fire was only five feet high, barely warm, and the flames were the color of lint.

Dionysus left early. After suffering through a few songs, he muttered something about how even pinochle with Chiron had been more exciting than this. Then he gave Tantalus a distasteful look and headed back toward the Big House.

When the last song was over, Tantalus said, "Well, that was lovely!"

He came forward with a toasted marshmallow on a stick and tried to pluck it off, real casual-like. But before he could touch it, the marshmallow flew off the stick. Tantalus made a wild grab, but the marshmallow committed suicide, diving into the flames.

Tantalus turned back toward us, smiling coldly. "Now then! Some announcements about tomorrow's schedule."

"Sir," Percy said.

Tantalus's eye twitched. "Our kitchen boy has something to say?"

Some of the Ares campers snickered. Percy stood and looked at Annabeth. Thank the gods, she stood up with me.

Percy said, "We have an idea to save the camp."

Dead silence, that even got Harry's attention. He had an idea himself, but it sounded ridiculous. And judging by how the campfire flared bright yellow, everyone else was also interested.

"Indeed," Tantalus said blandly. "Well, if it has anything to do with chariots-"

"The Golden Fleece," Percy said. "We know where it is."

Harry's eyes nearly bugged out. He watched with great interest, that was exactly the only thing that could cure the Blood of the Python. If Percy knew where it was… He had a feeling they would be leaving camp soon.

The flames burned orange. Before Tantalus could stop him, Percy blurted out his dream about Grover and Polyphemus's island. Annabeth stepped in and reminded everybody what the Fleece could do. It sounded more convincing coming from her.

"The Fleece can save the camp," she concluded. "I'm certain of it."

"Nonsense," said Tantalus. "We don't need saving."

Now Harry also stood. He was fed up.

"Yes, we do," he snapped at Tantalus. "And yes, the Fleece can save the camp. In fact, it's the only thing that can save the camp. The tree is poisoned with the Blood of the Python, of which there is no known cure, except the Fleece. And if we don't cure the tree, well we'll have to say goodbye to not only the not only the magical borders of the camp, but also the very vegetation of camp. The woods. The strawberry fields. Everything."

Everybody in the camp looked stunned. The Demeter Cabin looked horrified at the very thought.

"Okay," Tantalus said uneasily. "But the Sea of Monsters? That's hardly an exact location. You wouldn't even know where to look."

"Yes, I would," Percy said.

Annabeth leaned towards Percy and said, "You would?"

Percy nodded.

"30, 31, 75, 12," Percy said.

"Ooo-kay," Tantalus said. "Thank you for sharing those meaningless numbers."

"They're sailing coordinates," Percy said. "Latitude and longitude. I, uh, learned about it in social studies."

Even Annabeth looked impressed. "30 degrees, 31 minutes north, 75 degrees, 12 minutes west. He's right! The Gray Sisters gave us those coordinates. That'd be somewhere in the Atlantic, off the coast of Florida. The Sea of Monsters. We need a quest!"

"Wait just a minute," Tantalus said.

But the campers took up the chant. "We need a quest! We need a quest!"

The flames rose higher.

"It isn't necessary!" Tantalus insisted.

"WE NEED A QUEST!"

"Fine!" Tantalus shouted, his eyes blazing with anger. "You brats want me to assign a quest?"

"YES!"

"Very well," he agreed. "I shall authorize a champion to undertake this perilous journey, to retrieve the Golden Fleece and bring it back to camp. Or die trying."

"I will allow our champion to consult the Oracle!" Tantalus announced. "And choose two companions for the journey. And I think the choice of champion is obvious."

Tantalus looked at Annabeth and Percy as if he wanted to flay them alive. "The champion should be one who has earned the camp's respect, who has proven resourceful in the chariot races and courageous in the defense of the camp. You shall lead this quest… Clarisse!"

Harry's jaw dropped. Oh, for fuck's sake...

The fire flickered a thousand different colors. The Ares cabin started stomping and cheering,

"CLARISSE! CLARISSE!"

Clarisse stood up, looking stunned. Then she swallowed, and her chest swelled with pride. "I accept the quest!"

"Wait!" Percy shouted. "Grover is my friend. The dream came to me."

"Sit down!" yelled one of the Ares campers. "You had your chance last summer!"

"Yeah, he just wants to be in the spotlight again!" another said.

"I accept the quest!" Clarisse repeated, glaring at Percy. "I, Clarisse, daughter of Ares, will save the camp!"

After that there was much protesting and shouting but Harry wasn't paying attention. He barely listened as Tantalus told his own story from his POV. If they didn't get a quest, they would have to sneak out. No matter what, they had to save the camp. And of course, it seemed as the moment for revenge had arrived. And revenge is a dish best served cold. It seemed as though it was time his 'inner marauder', as Sirius had called it, came into action.

-Line Break-

Ooo-kay. Second chapter. So… opinion?

Okay, people, I think Harry needs a familiar. It will be a unicorn. A female one. Name suggestions, if you would? I'll be grateful. Thanks.

Well, now, bye readers! dhairyasood748 out.

(Please R & R.)