Harry loved to fly.
He loved Quidditch. He loved riding his Firebolt and rising miles above the sky, circling in the air with nothing but his leather gear to protect him. He loved the cold winds that tickled his cheeks and filled his lungs with wonderment and awe. He loved watching the ground grow foggier and foggier as he disappeared into the clouds—seeing expectant onlookers and judgemental twats shrink into ants and crumbs made him feel like an invisible giant. He loved the feeling of the air thinning as he rose higher and higher—higher than the Wizarding regulation of broomstick elevation. ("There's a limit to what Cushioning Charms can do," Hermione had warned time and again. "Stay low, Harry.")
Harry inhaled deeply, gripping the edge of the flying chariot tightly. It was much, much faster than his broomstick. They were probably going hundreds of miles per hour, but Harry couldn't tell. His surroundings were a blur. Every time he thought he saw a singular, identifiable form of something, like a bird or a cloud, it quickly bled into a streak of color and disappeared.
Harry wasn't sure how his face wasn't ripped off from his skull from how fast they were going. But he assumed it had something to do with magic, just like everything else was.
"The camp's in New York!" A blond kid named Austin, Apollo's son, yelled over the wind. "We'll be there soon, twenty minutes at the most with this bad boy!" He patted the white chariot.
Harry just nodded, hair flapping wildly in the wind. He thought he heard a horse neigh in indignation, kind of like we're the ones doing the work here!, but the howling wind didn't let him confirm his hallucinations.
The other occupant of the chariot, another blonde child of Apollo, Kayla, patted his arm comfortingly, as if to assuage him. Harry wondered if these Camp Half-Blood demigods picked up others of their kind like this—a wooden death contraption whisked away by flying horses, driven by inexperienced teenagers.
Finally, after what must have been fifteen minutes, they slowed down. Harry could still see the expansive, impossible blue of the ocean below his feet, but he also noticed the telltale signs of civilization—towering buildings and their glinting windows—peeking over the horizon.
"So," Harry said after catching his breath, "where's this Camp Half-Blood?"
Austin glanced back, hands gripping the leather reins. "You'll see soon. It's hard to miss 'cause it's freaking huge."
Kayla flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder. "Yeah, it's pretty big. There's a border that keeps out monsters and mortals—anything except demigods, basically."
"Mortals?" Harry repeated. "Regular people can't go into your camp at all?" Oh Circe. Harry had almost forgotten he himself was a mortal.
"Well, not really." At Harry's inquisitive look, Austin continued, "I'm not sure actually. There's this girl Rachel, our Oracle, who goes to our camp, and she's not a demigod. So now people say it just shields the camp from humans' eyes, but I don't think that's exactly true—not fully anyway, because my mom couldn't enter when she tried to pick me up after my first summer." Austin shrugged. "Maybe it's the boundary that decides whether someone could enter or not. That doesn't really explain why some really, really lost pizza guys crossed the border on their own, though, so I don't really know."
Harry closed his eyes. So he would be either accepted or expelled based on the reasonings of a sentient border. Fun.
They circled around the area for a while. Austin and Kayla were peering over the edge, searching for their beloved camp.
"There!" Kayla shouted, pointing to her left. She squinted in the wind and through the clouds. "I see it!"
Harry heard Austin mutter under his breath, "Finally."
Harry scrunched his eyes in the direction of Kayla's arm. There, far from the sky-breaching towers of New York, was an expansive grassland. Something—a lot of things—were flickering in Harry's vision. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to be seeing. Was it...the Mist?
Kayla clutched his arm, shaking it with such strength Harry wondered if all demigods were Olympic athletes. Harry distinctly remembered his almost-suffocation, courtesy of Arnie, the Red-Headed-Son-of-Hecate.
"Do you see it?" Kayla cried out excitedly. "Isn't it so pretty, Harry?"
Harry squinted at the area again. Nope, just grass—albeit with some flickering ghosts of images that Harry assumed was supposed to be the camp. "Yes," he lied, "it's very beautiful."
The Apollo spawns beamed at his admittance.
"Hold on tight, Potter," Austin warned, gripping the leather reins.
Harry only had two seconds to clutch the chariot's edge before Austin made a little hya-a! and urged the pegasi faster, whooping as they descended faster than any roller coaster in the world. Harry felt his eyes lose moisture quicker than the Sahara Desert, his knuckles turning white as snow under his death grip. Kayla pressed every inch of herself against his arm, laughing all the way.
Harry squeezed his eyes closed, gritting his teeth. Merlin's pants, what was up with this world?
Then, he felt it. It was the boundary, trying to force him out. Harry wasn't sure how he knew, but he did.
You don't belong here, it seemed to tell him. Out. Get out.
Harry wasn't sure if by "here" it was referring to the camp or the whole entire world he had unwittingly landed himself in.
A nudging pressure on Harry's chest knocked his breath out of him. He groaned, clutching the chariot out of instinct. It only lasted a few milliseconds before they passed where he assumed the border was, with Harry only stumbling back two inches. Kayla's death grip mostly kept him stationary. Harry exhaled a quiet sigh of relief; he was inside the camp now. But he didn't know why. Harry could feel its bitter distaste.
Their chariot resumed a normal trot now that they were landed. Harry peered over his shoulder. An innocent-looking pine tree seemingly waved back, guarded by a not-so-innocent-looking Rottweiler.
"Thalia's Tree. Gives us protection and a heavier dose of Mist. It gets heavier as you approach the camp," Kayla provided.
The dog flickered into a coppery dragon with a snake head. Then back to a mutt.
Harry blinked. Whatever he was supposed to be seeing without the Mist, he was comforted in the knowledge that it was smaller than the Hungarian Horntail.
It was like this world was a Disney version of Harry's world. Not to say that this Greek-gods-exist world wasn't plenty interesting. Just less scary, dangerous, and anxiety-inducing. He wasn't sure if that made him relieved of the lessened risks or dispirited that it wasn't a carbon copy his world. Harry turned forward, a confusing concoction of emotions simmering in his chest.
Austin was staring at him curiously. "See a lot of dragons in London, Potter?"
"Why do you ask?"
"People usually freak out when they see a massive dragon for the first time."
He glanced back. The dragon had its tail wrapped around the trunk of the pine tree, snoozing peacefully with ringlets of smoke escaping its gaping nostrils. He shrugged.
Austin eyed him like he was looking at Harry for the first time.
"His name is Peleus," Kayla chirped from Harry's side. "He guards the Golden Fleece."
Harry wanted to ask what the Golden Fleece was, but he resisted.
"It must've been hard fending for yourself in Britain," Austin started. The pegasi began to trot lazily up the grassy hill. "Do you know who your parent is? Chiron didn't say."
"No, unfortunately. Just found out about this whole thing today."
"Really?" Austin peered through his blond bangs. "Are you sure? Maybe you were claimed but were sleeping at the time—or just didn't know what the signs meant. After all, you just found out that you're a demigod, right?"
Harry distinctly remembered Arnie explaining that general claimings involved holographic images of the demigod's godly parent's symbol materializing over their head. "Yeah," he offered noncommittally. "Maybe it did come in my sleep."
"No pink haze, fashionable clothes, or perfect makeup appeared on your face one day?"
"Er—what—makeup?" Harry sputtered. "No, I'm pretty sure makeup didn't magically appear on my face."
Austin shrugged at Harry's indignation. "Maybe you just don't remember it."
"Why'd you even ask?"
"Curiosity's sake."
Were all demigods usually this cryptic? "What does it mean? If someone gets it, I mean. Which god does that belong to?"
"That's a sign of Aphrodite. Ripped jeans, gold jewelry, new highlights, the works." Austin barked a laugh. "At least her claiming is fun to watch. All the others tend to be a bit boring."
"Who's this Aphrodite? Sorry," Harry said when Kayla and Austin looked at him incredulously.
"Never heard of Aphrodite? Seriously? What era were you born in? Even mortal schools teach Greek gods!"
"Uh, I didn't pay attention in school. I've heard of them before, though," Harry offered.
Austin and Kayla shared a look.
"Typical Aphrodite kids," Kayla muttered under her breath.
"What?" Harry couldn't hear her.
She shook her head. "Don't worry your dainty head about it."
"What?" He repeated dumbly.
"You'll soon learn all of them," Kayla assured, patting his arm like he was a whiny two-year-old.
"Uh, well, alright," Harry scratched his head. Did they think he was slow or something?
"C'mon! There's a lot to show you," Austin hopped off the chariot. He jerked his head at the winged horses. "You guys know where to go."
The animals huffed and trotted away to where Harry assumed the stables were with all the arrogance in the world.
After climbing the hilly grassland for a few minutes and listening to Kayla's endless rants revolving around the Ares cabin, Harry almost crashed into Austin's chest when the demigod suddenly turned a one-eighty.
"Is there a problem?"
Austin grinned, his shiny blond hair ruffling in the gentle wind. He gestured broadly with a wave of his arm. "Finally here. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood."
Over Austin's shoulder, flashes of images passed by, like when Dudley flipped the channels on the telly too fast and couldn't decide which cartoon to settle on. He saw a huge McDonald's paradise complete with two-way drive thrus and jungle gyms, an off-brand amusement park called Seven Flags, a megablock of New York City skyscrapers, and a simple grassland expanding as far as his eye took him. They all flickered between the fast food chain and a glittering metropolis, as if the Mist couldn't quite make up its mind as to which image suited Harry's brain the best. It gave him a massive headache.
Harry squinted. He rubbed his eyes. He muttered and shook his head.
There was a slap on his back. "I know, I know. Can't quite believe your eyes, eh? Let's just say that our own camp's architects have been making improvements." Austin pointed at a brightly fluorescent circus tent in the distance. "That's the Big House." He jerked a thumb to his left. Harry stared at strawberry gardens that flickered into a muggle football field and then into a windmill farm. "That's the arts and crafts building."
Kayla said, "I can't wait until you see the pegasus stables. You'll absolutely love it."
"This is quite…" Harry stared at a floppy balloon-man from used car dealers break dancing in the wind. "...overwhelming," he finished lamely.
"Isn't it?" Kayla sighed, "Annabeth's been spoiling the camp with marble-everything. It's so shiny."
Was Annabeth another one of those goddesses? His brain hurt trying to digest everything.
"Enough dilly dallying. We have to go see Chiron." The blonds tugged on his arm.
As the trio trudged along the grassy hill towards the circus tent, Harry looked around. There were a few campers in bright neon orange shirts milling around, burying their nose in books or chatting with friends. They were too engrossed in whatever they were doing to notice them.
"Are there usually this little people?"
"You came at the most inopportune time, man. It's the school year."
Harry stared at a pair of teenagers fighting with pool noodles. "Wouldn't it be better if people stayed during the school year and went home during summer?"
Austin raised an eyebrow. "Now why would we do that?"
"More training? Learning? Fighting?" Harry waved a hand towards the kids stabbing neon green styrofoam noodles into each other.
"Well, everyone certainly could benefit from more sword training. But y'know, family and school's important too."
"You guys don't have a school here?"
The blond shook his head. "Only summer camp. And I like it that way. I think I would go crazy if I had to learn all year long, as interesting as Greek lore is. You still in high school?"
Harry paused. "No."
"You graduated already? Couldn't have guessed. You don't look like an adult, no offense."
"Never graduated, mate."
He thought he heard Kayla mutter under her breath, "Told you."
"What happened? If you don't mind me asking."
"Well," Harry rubbed his chin, "there were some things that I couldn't control. I had to leave school to amend some stuff."
"Wow, that's really specific and not at all vague," Kayla said sarcastically. Austin gave her a flick on her wrist with Kayla hissing and scowling after him, but nodded in agreement. Harry shrugged.
"Man, don't even worry about it. High school sucks anyway. My charter school got shut down 'cause they found the administration embezzling funds." Austin stretched his arms out. "And here I am. Taking online courses and having the time of my life escorting a newbie around."
Harry chortled. "Thanks. I feel so welcome."
The Apollo spawn cackled. "It's no problem. C'mon, let's go see Chiron."
"Will I ever get to meet Dionysus?" Harry asked as they pulled up in front of the circus tent. Austin held up the flap for Kayla to scamper through.
"Mr. D? Even if you wanted to, I doubt he'll give any camper the light of day, newbie or not."
It would've been nice to see a god, just once.
The inside of the circus was odd, to say the least. There were beanbags and balloon chairs scattered around a large oak table, with party balloons and jack-o'-lanterns strewn about in random corners. Harry spied a thick book on a small coffee table, its title blinking between "101 Ways to Charm an Empousa" and "101 Ways to Carve Soap."
"Chiron!" Kayla sang, skipping in front. "The British guy's here!" She grabbed a biscuit from a nearby table and started walking back to the exit, saluting to Harry on the way. "See ya, Harry. As fun as our journey was, I've got some important things to do."
"You mean writing love letters to Hermes?" Austin tossed over his shoulder.
She stuck her tongue out and Austin returned with a rude hand gesture. Turning with a flip of her hair, Kayla harrumphed and strolled out, tent flap rustling.
"You must be Harry."
A middle-aged man with thinning brown hair emerged from another room in a wheelchair. He briefly reminded Harry of Dumbledore: there was a distinct air around him, like he's seen more in ten minutes of his life than Harry would ever even if he lived another hundred years. Harry held up a hand. "Nice to meet you, sir. I've heard a lot about you." Like how he was supposed to be seeing a pair of horse legs rather than a set of wheels.
Harry would have to find out a way to see through the Mist. Not only would it save him the headache called the Bright Fluorescent Circus House, but Harry hated knowing that he was missing the visual joys of a wonderful new reality.
Chiron shook his hand amiably. "Only nice things, I hope. Did you encounter any trouble on the way here?"
"Nadda," Austin answered. "I half-expected some gryphons to attack, what with three demigods and all. We got lucky."
"That is excellent news. Come, Harry, sit. I expect that you have many questions." Harry took a seat on an inflatable chair. "Would you like a sugar cookie? They're very tasty. The Demeter children baked them. I believe they said it was 'vegan,' which seems to be all the rage now." He nudged the same ceramic bowl that Kayla snatched a biscuit out of towards him.
Harry felt an overwhelming feeling of nostalgia, remembering his old mentor's lemon drops. Clearing his throat, Harry shook his head. "No thank you."
Chiron nodded sagely. "Vegan isn't for everyone, I suppose. Arnie has informed me that he's filled you in with most of how Camp Half-Blood runs."
"I don't think there's a thing that he left out. I just need to stick that information in my brain somehow."
The centaur chuckled. "Ah, yes. He can be hyperactive at times. Gracie even more so." Harry withheld a grimace. "To get straight to things, you must understand that this is quite an unusual circumstance. Many campers will be curious as to how a demigod of your age has managed for so long all alone."
"Yeah, how did you survive this long?" Austin asked, leaning on the doorway.
Harry scratched his head. What was he supposed to say? "Luck, I assume. And there's less monsters in London, right?"
"Yes, that much is true." The centaur rubbed his beard. "It's a curious situation. Curiouser regarding your parentage. Nevertheless, I suppose we must wait until tonight's dinner for your claiming." At Harry's expression, Chiron assured him, "It is painless, don't worry."
"No that's not—what if I don't get claimed? What happens then?"
"You will. The gods are bound to their promise. Percy—"
"If I was somehow an exception?" Harry pushed. "If I didn't have a godly parent? Will my memories be erased with the Mist? Will I get kicked out?"
Chiron's brows furrowed. His wheelchair fidgeted like a wild animal. "You have already been accepted by the boundary. You are not mortal, that much is certain. If banishment is what you're concerned about, I assure you that that will not happen."
"But what about the pizza delivery guys—"
He felt a hard slap on his back and an arm slung over his shoulder. "Aw, I thought you were supposed to be the adult! No need to be nervous, Harry. All demigods get claimed now," Austin chirped cheerfully from his ear.
"Sure, sure," the wizard gritted under his breath. He never claimed to be the best strategist, but now he knew for sure he couldn't even touch the title with a ten foot pole. Harry was so screwed.