Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or Harry Potter

A/N: Here it is, as promised in my other fic, the very first chapter of my second fic!

In this fic, I have taken the cliché 'Percy goes to Hogwarts' fic, and attempted to make it more unique.

Unlike others that I have seen, this will be mainly Percy centric (though with multiple POVs), set in Hogwarts.

This one is set at the end of the Last Olympian and during The Goblet of Fire.

Obviously, this fic is going to be focussed upon the Triwizard tournament, and no, it will not be using the original format.

So this chapter is pretty much an introduction. The demigods don't even meet the wizards yet! In fact, it simply changes how Last Olympian goes a bit and starts to reveal the Greek World to the Wizards.

Anyway, that's enough chatter. Enjoy the premier chapter of Tournament of the Gods...

Edit: Just a quick update to clarify the timeline, as requested in the reviews. This is set sometime in the 21st century, doesn't matter exactly when, starting at the end of the Last Olympian. Said book will be taking place in the summer between Prisoner of Azkaban and the Goblet of Fire. Hope that clears it up.

Chapter 1: The Sacrifice

Percy POV

I collapsed upon my knees. Kronos collapsed further, sprawling out along the burned marble floor of Olympus's throne room. He howled at me, before gripping his forehead, letting out a gurgling cry. His eyes reopened, a bright blue, flickering with the remnants of gold. Luke was back, fighting Kronos for control. Through his skin, a dull orange glow could be seen, slowly brightening.

'Percy,' he whispered, almost inaudible. 'Give me the knife.' I looked down at the bronze implement in my hands. Annabeth's knife, a gift from Luke. With Riptide launched off Olympus, and Annabeth unconscious, it was my only form of defence. He howled an agonised cry. 'Give it to me!' He screamed. 'Only I can kill him. Only I know where the heel is!' His eyes reverted back to gold, his face contorting into a snarl, before he collapsed again, coughing and spluttering. He looked back up to me again, eyes blue once again. 'Please,' he whimpered. He stared up at me, eyes pleading.

This was the moment I realised. The prophesied moment. The moment I would either save or raze Olympus. I needed to be like Annabeth, think smart. Was this really Luke? Was this just a trap?

I gave him the knife.

He looked down at it, grasping it weakly. He clenched his fist around it, his other hand pushing up. Halfway up, he staggered, and glared back up at me. Oh. His eyes were gold again. I stumbled backwards, tripping over some loose rubble, sprawled along the floor In a snarl of triumph, Kronos lunged at me, knife plunging towards the small of my back, my Achilles Heel, before something launched into his side, knocking of course.

Annabeth had woken up, and was now limping away from the now severely glowing Kronos. 'Luke!' she pleaded. 'Help us.'

Kronos whipped his head back at her, surging towards her with the knife, before staggering back, blue flickering into existence once again. Luke stared at Annabeth, and collapsed upon his knees. 'Forgive me,' he whispered. He looked at the knife once again. He raised it above his head. I watched as the gleaming blade descended, a deadly arc. The cursed blade embedded itself into his heel. Annabeth screamed. Luke howled. The orange gleam abruptly stopped, and Luke collapsed forward, face slamming into the stone floor.

It was over. Kronos was gone. I lay there, shell-shocked, unmoving. I watched as Annabeth, screaming, crying, lunged at Luke's body, clutching it, tears streaming down her face. Luke was dead, I realised. My first real friend at camp, apart from Grover, the true hero of the prophecy.

Amidst the devastation, I had not realised an important fact. For where Annabeth's dagger lay buried, a soft glow had begun. Not the harsh, fiery glow of before, but a cold, blue glow. Not a glow of fury, but seemingly cruel nonetheless. Annabeth lay clutching Luke, screaming and cursing, and I did not notice the light until too late. For by the time I had noticed it, the light was blinding, the wound engulfed in the glow.

'Annabeth,' I screamed. I forced myself, using the little strength I had left to force myself up, and tackled her off of the body. We did not have the time. We would not escape. This glow was a build up of energy - we could not outrun it.

I grabbed the hilt of the knife, and struck the hard marble floor with it. Blade and stone connected, over and over again, before finally the polished marble gave way. The stone, cracking and splintering, left behind a chasm, a pit suspended hundreds of miles above the sleeping streets of New York.

I could see Tyson leading the armies of Poseidon against Typhon, binding him with chains of bronze. I could see the undead legions of Hades and Nico. I could see the campers. Rows of demigods, fighting against an ever decreasing hoard of monsters. I could see Hyperion's tree, surrounded by Dryads and Satyrs. I looked back up at Annabeth, tears flowing freely. With my final ounce of strength, I gripped the folds of Luke's clothing, and pushed hard against the cold floor.

We tumbled out of the hole, sprawled out against the force of wind. Luke's corpse tumbled, limp, his ankle now too bright to look at. Above, I saw Annabeth, leaning over the pit, screaming and crying. Below, I saw demigods celebrating, the last of the monsters turned to dust. A couple began to look up, spotting our bodies in free fall.

I heard a humming sound, emitting from Luke. A second later, I felt the impending wall of energy, traveling at incredible speeds. It slammed into me like a train, an unstoppable force, and the world went silent, and the world went dark.

Nico POV

Wielding my Stygian blade, I ran through the last monster, a single Dracaena. It was done, the battle won. Now we just had to hope the war was one too. I turned my attention up, hoping to take a glimpse of the great battle on Olympus, for several times throughout the battle, the Mist-shrouded palace flickered into existence, the strain on the mystical force overwhelming.

At first, nothing could be seen. And then it happened. The Throne Room, burning and ruinous, burst momentarily into existence. From a whole, two figures fell. One was dead. I could feel it. I did not know who; there was too much death to tell. The other was alive, but weak. The dead one was soon glowing a cruel blue, as bright as the sun, a speck of burning, blue light. A barely audible hum could be felt, and my hair stood on end. It must have for everyone else, for they all turned their attention up.

From the limp body, a shockwave of pale blue energy erupted, sending the other flying, out of reach for my magical senses. The shockwave expanded in all directions, a sphere of force. It reached the Empire State building first. The building flexed, glass shattering, and the face caved in. When it reached the other buildings, similar results occurred. It continued to spread outwards, though seemingly weakened. Buildings no-longer collapse inwards, though glass was still sent raining down upon us. The wave reached us, and the tarmac buckled, the roads tilting and undulating. Car windows cracked, and the roofs caved in, and the airbags deployed. Some younger Campers collapsed, others simply stumbling.

And then it stopped. And eerie silence settled over the city. Groans could be heard, and the mortals began to get up. They stared up at the ruinous buildings, seemingly ignoring the campers. We began to run, before any sort of accusation could be levelled, before we were engulfed in a gentle golden light.

When the light had dissipated, I found myself with a different company. A wounded Chiron was present, as was Grover, Tyson and Clarisse. Standing above us in their giant forms were the Olympians, with my Father lurking in a dark corner, human sized, with Thalia crouching nearby. We were in the ruined Throne Room, with several thrones in dire need of repair. Weeping over the gap in the floor was Annabeth, clutching at a bloodied knife, rocking back and forth.

That was when it hit me. Percy wasn't here. Kronos wasn't here. They were the two who fell. I collapsed onto my knees, submerged under a sudden wave of misery and despair. After all this, Kronos had still survived! Falling, weak, but survived. And Percy - my first friend, my only friend, had died.

Standing at the front of the assembly, Zeus looked, for quite possibly the first time in his immortal life, uncomfortable and awkward. 'Well, uh, thanks,' he said, after standing there silently for quite a long time. 'I mean, we got rid of Typhon for you, so…'

'Ha,' spat Poseidon, leaning on the burning remnants of his throne. 'You didn't do anything. That victory is mine, and my legions. And this victory here is nothing to scoff at.'

'We'll discuss this later, brother,' Zeus growled. He turned back to us demigods. 'For all your, uh, bravery here today in defeating Kronos, uh, we will pay for the repairs at Camp, and Annabeth, uh, you can help design the New Olympus.'

Annabeth stopped sobbing. Her head shot up, bloodshot eyes glaring at Zeus. 'Oh, you will, will you? After all this, after what Percy sacrificed for you! All you are going to do is the bare minimum you should be doing?'

Zeus shifted on the spot. 'I thought that was pretty generous,' he muttered.

Mr. D stood up from his charred vine throne. 'I think you'll find, Annie Bell, that we were going to give Peter Johnson an extra reward. It's not our fault he decided to jump down the hole with Kronos's already dead body!'

Annabeth's head whipped round to face him. 'PERCY JACKSON!' she screamed. 'CAN'T YOU EVEN REMEMBER THE NAME OF YOUR SAVIOUR!' Zeus stepped forward to interrupt, but she wasn't done yet. 'THE ALREADY DEAD BODY WAS ABOUT TO BLOW UP YOUR FREAKING THRONE ROOM!'

'Now, listen here,' Zeus leaned in. 'It is not my fault that he decided to jump off too, instead of just pushing it into a hole.'

'HE WAS PRACTICALLY UNCONSCIOUS!' she screamed.

'ENOUGH!' Zeus bellowed. 'We accept the bravery of Perseus, but we will not be acting further than what we have already determined. Now leave.' He raised a hand above his head and snapped his fingers, and the world disintegrated around us, leaving us standing among the cabins at camp, along with all the demigods who had not been taken up to Olympus. Or died, I thought darkly.

'My son.' I whipped round to face the voice. My father was standing behind me, in a pitch black tuxedo. Beside him, Apollo was wearing golden tracksuits. They were quite the pair, it had to be said. 'I am proud of you, my son. You were a true hero of Erebus today. And do not despair for your friend just yet. He has not yet entered my realm. He may indeed be dead, and remain a lost soul, but there is hope for young Percy yet.'

'Yeah,' Apollo said. 'I cannot say with any certainty, for the future has clouded over. I am a blinded seer.' He chuckled. 'There is still hope.'

'Just know that I am proud of you,' Hades said again, before dissolving into a pillar of shadows, quickly dissipating into nothing. I turned to Apollo and raised a querying eyebrow.

'I've still got business to do,' he said cryptically. 'Just stay here and watch the fireworks.'

I slunk over to the campfire, Hestia now absent, and collapsed. Today had been an exhausting day, mentally and physically. In fact, I was pretty much numb to the world - even Rachel's crowning as the Oracle wasn't enough to shake me out of my stupor.

3rd POV

Lurking in the bustling streets was a man. To those around him, he was quite an ordinary man, seeming to be around his mid-40s, wearing a blue peacoat and a brown wool shirt, hurriedly making his way through the crowds, clutching at a rather battered suitcase.

He was, however, far from ordinary. In fact, to many the man was quite extraordinary. The man's name was Newt Scamander, and he was actually around 95 years of age. It did not show, of course, like many of his people - age only tended to show around the 140 mark. He was a participant in what many knew as the Second World War, and was a collector and researcher of incredible animals.

And now he had another feather to add to his cap. He had just survived what he believed to be another war, a hidden war.

Two days previously, Scamander had come to Manhattan to try and collect a Hippogriff sent by a man by the name of 'Padfoot', to look after and investigate. The name was a bit strange, Newt thought, but he could be a Native American wizard. While present, however, a terrible curse must have been placed upon the city. All around him, muggles had collapsed, asleep or unconscious, as the city had fallen into silence.

Well, not quite silence. A small band of children and a lone centaur were still conscious, and seemed to be preparing for a fight. Setting up his suitcase nearby, Newt had hidden inside his portable base of operations, to investigate the peculiar happenings that were to occur.

Monsters and beasts had swarmed the city. Legions of armoured Dracaena, Spartioi, and even a Minotaur had passed his suitcase by, and he was left to watch the chaos. These legions of incredible creatures waged war upon the children, having taken refuge in the Empire State Building, and many fell, on both sides.

The conflict continued into the night, when a shockwave could be felt from the river. Day rose, and a Drakon joined the fight! And amazingly, that fell too. The battle continued for yet another day, when a gigantic beast of storms arrived. And then the incredible happened.

All around him, armoured skeletons and ghosts burst through the ground, charging down the remnants of the once colossal army. In the distance, the storm monster stumbled, and great swathes of water arose up, dragging the beasts down, down, through the river. And then he saw it.

Above him, flickering in and out of reality, a great city hung, burning, ruinous. Out of a whole, two specks fell, limp glowing. An ear-splitting hum rose for a split-second, and a shockwave tore through the surrounding buildings. The second speck was sent flying, and the suitcase was launched about, disrupting his view. By the time he had recovered, the children were nowhere to be seen, and the muggles were awake, muttering about terrorists.

Newt was now putting into action the only reasonable plan - he had to notify someone. This was a major breach of the Statute.

Ducking into an alley, he pulled a rare beast out of his suitcase. It was a Jormungadr, a Norse snake with the peculiar ability to create wormholes across the universe. This one was one of the few that were trained, used for quick transport, and the delivery of letters.

To Dumbledore and the Aurors he wrote. You need to come to New York. Now.

He watched as the snake reared up, diving forward, creating a shimmering portal ahead. It dove through, and the gateway vanished with an audible pop. He just hoped they would listen.

A/N: And there you go!

I really like Newt, and it makes sense, at least to me, for him to be the one to discover the demigods.

Just to clear it up, Newt appears to look around his mid forties due to the slowed aging of wizard kind.

So, this fic will be updating every Friday, so, uh, be there?

If you haven't already, please check out my other fic, Harry-Potter Malfoy. Currently amassing just under 13k words, it is a Dark!Harry fic, and is quite unique.

Also, please review! Reviews are the nectar of Fanfic authors. They help us improve, and tailor the story to the readers. Plus, I am more than happy to receive requests for minor OCs or mini plots. Such requests help fluff out fanfics, and also make it a bit more personal to my readers. So, yeah. Please review!

Anyway, next chapter will see the two worlds interacting.

See you next Friday!