Chapter 1

Percy and Annabeth were holding onto Grover for dear life. His shoes were trying to pull him into an abyss, which, if you're unfamiliar with Greek Mythology, usually means monsters or evil gods are trying to kill you just because you exist.

And people think that teenagers have it easy.

Percy desperately tried to find any source of water. Why, you ask?

Well, duh. He was the son of Poseidon, god of rivers and oceans.

Next you'll ask, well then, Great and Awesome Author Sir, who was Annabeth daughter of? And Grover?

And to that I say Athena, and fuck if I know. He is a half-goat though, if that helps any.

Moving on from your inane questions, the Duo couldn't see a way to save Grover, and the pull from the abyss kept on getting stronger by the minute.

That was exactly when Harry materialised from thin air, and promptly fell down.

Which Harry, you ask? Harry Potter. From which universe? Make A Wish. How? You ask too many questions.

He dusted himself off, looked around, and spotted the trio at the very edge of the abyss.

He sighed.

"Accio kids!" Harry shouted, swishing his wand for the required spell.

The flying boots came off Grover's legs, and the three sailed over and fell in a heap by Harry's side. The boots promptly flew into the abyss, which got covered up by huge stones that appeared out of nowhere.

The three kids untangled each other and sat down in exhaustion.

"What was that?" Harry asked.

"Who are you?" the little girl countered, though she didn't look very little wielding a deadly looking golden dagger.

"It's okay... that was Kronos." Grover said.

"Grover!" the girl hissed.

"It's okay guys... I mean you no harm."

"Swear on the river Styx."

"... What?"

"Look mate," Percy coughed, "we have been betrayed seven different times in this week alone. Trust is running a little low at this point."

Harry rolled his eyes. "What's sticks? More importantly, why should I swear to them?"

"... How do you not know about the River Styx? Are you a mortal?"

Harry too sat down. This was going to take longer, he could just feel it in his bones.

He pulled out a lighter of all things, lighted it, and started talking to it.

"Henchgirl? Can you hear me? Professor?"

Only the dull hum of flames greeted him.

"Fine. Fine. You, girl, what's your name?"

When Grover made to say her name she covered his mouth and hissed back at him, "Names have Power."

"Fine. I'm calling you Hermione," he pointed at Grover, "Ron," he turned to Percy, "Harry. Any objections?"

All three of them shook their heads.

"Okay. So, what can you tell me?"

Not-Hermione was the first to speak up, "We don't have much time, we need to find something and return it to its owner, or the world will end in about..." she thought for a moment, "one and a half days."

"Don't worry," Harry spoke with a glint in his eyes. "Time has never been a problem for me."

He rotated the dial on his watch, and everything around them slowed down.

The reactions he received were rather unexpected. Instead of looking at him in wonder, they had pulled out a sword, a dagger, and a flute (why flute? He thought) and they were pointed straight at him.

"Kronos." not-Harry hissed. "Thought you could trick us, didn't you?"

"Back at square one, are we?" actual-Harry responded. "Fine, I'll do that. I will swear on whatever bloody river you want me to."

"Styx. Swear on Styx."

"I swear on the river Styx I will do you no harm, other than in self defense."

They lowered their weapons. "Who are you?" not-Ron asked.

"Mr Black." Harry responded automatically.

"Mister Black? You don't have a name?"

"I did. Once." He trailed off.

"How did you do that?" not-Harry asked, pointing at his watch.

"Oh, the time thing?" even now the birds were flying very slowly, "it's just something the Professor made for me."

"The Professor? You don't know his name?"

"What's in a name?" Harry shrugged. "Names change all the time, and most of the people in my group have code-names like Henchgirl, Pencil, etc."

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm just looking for a vacation," Harry said. "That I just can't seem to get. Enough about me... who are you?" he interrupted not-Ron when he started saying names, "as in who are you? You called me a mortal a while ago... are you not?"

"Nothing like that Mr Black. Usually, we can't talk about this stuff to anyone but our group, but seeing as these are desperate times... I will take any help I can get," not-Hermione had changed gears as soon as he had swore on Styx, and now sounded extremely exhausted. "You see," her voice changed to a drone, she must have said this to many people, "gods are real..."

"So... in conclusion, you have to bring the big guy's big weapon back to him, or he will get a temper tantrum and destroy the world?"

Thunder... thundered in the sky.

"Yes," the now known Percy Jackson agreed, hopping to his feet quickly, his wounds all but gone after Harry conjured some water.

Annabeth and Grover stood up in a much slower and sluggish way.

"You know I can help you with the bruises, yes?" Harry asked for what he felt was the 12th time during their discussion.

"It's okay, these wounds are the part of a Half-Blood's life," Annabeth said rather sagely.

Harry shrugged and cancelled the Time Spell of his watch. He then flicked his wand and said, "Point me Zeus's Lightning Bolt." It took a moment for the magic of the wand to locate it, but it swiftly turned and pointed at Percy's bag, which had remained forgotten since Grover had started falling.

Harry raised an eyebrow at Percy who blushed. "I–I swear, Mr Black..."

"I believe you," Harry said instantly, because he did. "Will the big man believe you, though?"

With that rather foreboding thought, he made his way to the main road, the three kids tailing him, each in thought.

"My dad surely will," Percy decided at length.

Harry threw a lighter at Grover, who grabbed it effortlessly.

"Grover," Harry intoned into his Zippo's fire carefully. Grover's Zippo lit up and Harry's voice greeted him with a "Hello, Grover," as Harry said the same.

"It's a very... nice... device. You know, Mr Black... all this time, we talked and discussed our situation, you never really told us who you are. Are you some minor god? Maybe from some other religion perhaps?"

"There's not much to my story, really. I was a soldier since the day I was born, an Old Man made sure of that. At some point I realised that life was too precious to waste away fighting an unwinnable battle, so I took a break. Turns out that my Big Bad was very stupid, and I was left with a quick, painless, hollow victory.

"What do you do when the fight is over?" Harry continued as they trudged on the deserted road. "Go back to normal? Marry? Raise a kid? I couldn't... so I have taken to travelling. And somehow I have ended up here, with you lot."

"Thank you for sharing that," Annabeth said. When he nodded, she continued, "I am very intrigued by these powers you have. Are you a descendent of Hecate? The way you manipulate magic using that stick –" "wand" "– wand, that's something I have only heard in stories."

Harry shrugged. "I'm a wizard. That's all the answer you can get to your question. I don't know if the wizard-kind was descended from Hecate or not. No clue whatsoever."

She sighed. "If only we could somehow harness that power..."

"Yeah," Percy agreed. "Would be pretty good if I didn't have to worry about finding some water to use my powers, a twist of a stick, and I could have all the water I would ever need."

Grover too was lost in thought.

Harry shook his head. "Someday, you will learn that powers don't mean much at the end... but that day is not today. Look a truck is coming! Let's see if we could convince him to drop us off at New York."

The next day they arrived at New York, a full one day before the Solstice.

Harry pulled Grover aside and spoke, "If it feels like things could get out of hand, call me," he pointed at his Zippo, "Don't hesitate."

Grover nodded, and the trio made their way up the elevator to the 600th floor of the Empire State building. Harry's sneakily applied tracking charm on Grover was working successfully. Now it was time to wait.

"The child speaks the truth!" Zeus thundered in his majestic Pantheon, the other gods sitting around him in a long two way row of Thrones of different sizes. At the centre was a Hearth, which gave warmth and light to any who asked for it.

Percy decided that he didn't particularly like the heat, because at that moment sweat was covering his whole body. After all, he was standing mere feets away from his death.

Zeus continued, "I think he has fulfilled his quest, and I have my Lightning Bolt back, so I proposhat we allow the child and his friends to go back to their camp, free of any repercussions! All in favour!"

Everyone except Ares and Athena raised their hand.

"He is too dangerous to be allowed to exist," Ares gave his two drachmas rather gruffly.

"As much as I hate it," Athena said grudgingly, "I agree with Ares. This child has the potential to destroy us all!"

"You will have to go through me first!" Poseidon bellowed, his form getting bigger and his eyes becoming the dark shade of a thunderstorm. Percy's eyes teared up. It was nice knowing your father cared for you, even though he was a many millenniums old god.

Zeus was not to be stepped over, "You will accept any rulings of this council peacefully, brother! Or have you forgotten about the fate you have given your child just because you couldn't keep a promise!"

Instead of calming him, this further enraged Poseidon. The oceans in the world below started crashing and blowing.

"YOU HAVE GONE TOO FAR!"

Now or never, Grover decided, and then pulled out his Zippo. Nobody noticed him, every pair of eyes was focused on the two rival gods, waiting on who fired the first shot.

With a whoosh of air, Mr Black materialized in the Throne Room.

AN: So... That's that. This story is a direct continuation of the "Make A Wish" and "The Hunt for Harry Potter" stories written by the excellent author Rorschach's Blot.

Don't worry, I can hear you say, "You already have so many stories in progress!" I know. I am pretty self aware.

That said, don't forget to leave a review! They are the bread and butter of every author, including me.

Lectio Beatus!