Hey! I'm back! Again, I'm so sorry for taking this long to update, but I was was stuck while writing this chapter. I've got to admit, this was probably the hardest chapter I've written so far. I have already started on the next chapter, so it will be out soon. There's not much Percy in this chapter, but it's a lot more than the previous one. It's going to be like this for a few chapters, because I need to set a base for this story, from which I can work on.

Also, the characters in this story are purely fictional. Any resemblance to any person is purely coincidental. Harry Potter and Percy Jackson are owned by J.K. Rowling and Rick Riordan respectively, and everything in this story except the plot is owned by them.

I am now a Beta, so if anyone wants me to beta read their works, feel free to PM me.

Percy was standing on top of Half-Blood Hill, near Thalia's pine tree. The Golden Fleece was perched on top of it, with Peleus guarding it. A slight breeze was blowing, ruffling his hair.

A dream. Percy instantly realized. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Nico di Angelo stepped out, standing right next to him.

"You heard?" Nico asked. Seeing Percy's confused look, he explained," Apollo. He's going to be punished for Octavian's actions. Zeus is pissed off; he needs someone to take blame for this war. Artemis is trying to get him to calm down but it's not working. If anything bad happens, we're going to feel its effects."

"Wait, if anything bad happens? Zeus can't take his powers away, can he?"

"No. He can't take Apollo's powers like that. It's going to cause a huge unbalance on Olympus. And if that happens now, who knows what other threats we'll have to face. The gods are still trying to gain stability after Gaea's attack. Jason's promise for giving each of the gods a shrine got a lot of support from the minor gods, so they are with Olympus. The only problems are the monsters that Gaea managed to gather. Some of them are still trying to attack. But Chiron just sent out a few campers for protection duty across the city."

"So everything is fine. I hope it lasts. But with our luck- "

"Something is bound to happen," Nico finished," Where are you?" he asked. Percy grimaced. He figured this question would have come sooner.

"England. Apparently, I have another evil grandfather."

"You seriously have the worst luck in the history of demigods," Nico said, smirking slightly. Percy sighed. It was true.

"And to add icing on the cake, he's a wizard."

"Wait, is his name Voldemort?" Nico asked. Percy nodded in confirmation.

Suddenly they were standing in a dark room, with the only source of light being a green lamp on the corner of the room. There was a man sitting in the middle of the room, wearing a long black cloak, a huge snake curling around its neck. He had a chalk-white skull like face with slits for nostrils and red eyes with cat-like slits for pupils.

"Nico!" Percy whispered, shocked. "Why did you bring us here?"

"I didn't," Nico answered back. "I don't have control of this dream anymore."

"Who is this?"

"Vold- ohh! I said his name, Percy. I said your grandfather's name. I think he put some magic into that name," Nico said.

A door opened at the far end of the room. A man walked in and bowed before Voldemort.

"My Lord," he said. "We tried our best, my Lo- "

"Get to the point, Lucius," Voldemort hissed.

"Dumbledore took the boy," the man Lucius said, looking down.

"Ahh… what about the Department of Mysteries?"

"We are still trying, my Lord."

"Nagini, what should I do?" Voldemort asked, stroking the snake.

The snake hissed and looked at them, as if somehow sensing their presence. Nico grabbed his hand and they melted into the shadows.

Percy woke up, gasping for air.

That was one hell of a dream. Percy thought as he threw the blanket off himself. He noticed Harry's and Ron's bed were empty so he quickly got ready and ran downstairs to the kitchen.

"Hey Percy," Mrs. Weasley greeted him as he walked in. Ron, Hermione and Ginny were sitting there with Sirius, all looking worried.

"Morning, Mrs. Weasley," Percy replied, sitting next to Ron. "Where's Harry?"

"Hearing," Ron said. "I hope he doesn't get expelled."

"Ron," Sirius said. "He won't get expelled. Dumbledore is there. He'll get Harry out somehow."

"Hey, Sirius?" Percy asked. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," he replied.

"What's in the Department of Mysteries?"

Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room changed. Mrs. Weasley turned around and looked at him in shock.

"Where did you here that?" Sirius asked him sharply.

"That doesn't matter. What is in there?" Sirius opened his mouth to say something, but Mrs. Weasley cut him off.

"No," she said. "We are not in the liberty to share classified information with you."

"Is it where the weapon's being kept?" Percy pressed on." The one that You-Know-Who is looking for?"

Before Sirius could reply, the kitchen door opened, revealing a very ecstatic Harry.

"I knew it!" yelled Ron, punching the air. "You always get away with stuff!"

"They were bound to clear you," said Hermione, who had looked positively faint with anxiety when Harry had entered the kitchen and was now holding a shaking hand over her eyes. "There was no case against you, none at all..."

"Congrats, Harry!" Percy said.

"Everyone seems quite relieved, though, considering they all knew I'd get off," said Harry, smiling. Mrs. Weasley was wiping her face on her apron, and Fred, George, and Ginny were doing a kind of war dance to a chant that went "He got off, he got off, he got off —"

"That's enough, settle down!" shouted Mr. Weasley, though he too was smiling. "Listen, Sirius, Lucius Malfoy was at the Ministry —"

"What?" said Sirius.

"He got off, he got off, he got off —"

"Be quiet, you three! Yes, we saw him talking to Fudge on level nine, then they went up to Fudge's office together. Dumbledore ought to know."

"Absolutely," said Sirius. "We'll tell him, don't worry."

"Well, I'd better get going, there's a vomiting toilet in Bethnal Green waiting for me. Molly, I'll be late, I'm covering for Tonks, but Kingsley might be dropping in for dinner —"

"He got off, he got off, he got off —"

"That's enough — Fred — George — Ginny!" said Mrs. Weasley, as Mr. Weasley left the kitchen. "Harry dear, come and sit down, have some lunch, you hardly ate breakfast. . . ."

Ron and Hermione sat themselves down opposite him looking happier than they had done since he had first arrived at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, and Harry's feeling of giddy relief, which had been somewhat dented by his encounter with Lucius Malfoy, swelled again. The gloomy house seemed warmer and more welcoming all of a sudden; even Kreacher looked less ugly as he poked his snoutlike nose into the kitchen to investigate the source of all the noise. Percy left the kitchen, saying something about going to the washroom.

"'Course, once Dumbledore turned up on your side, there was no way they were going to convict you," said Ron happily, now dishing great mounds of mashed potatoes onto everyone's plates.

"Yeah, he swung it for me," said Harry. He felt that it would sound highly ungrateful, not to mention childish, to say, "I wish he'd talked to me, though. Or even looked at me."

And as he thought this, the scar on his forehead burned so badly that he clapped his hand to it.

"What's up?" said Hermione, looking alarmed.

"Scar," Harry mumbled. "But it's nothing... It happens all the time now..."

None of the others had noticed a thing; all of them were now helping themselves to food while gloating over Harry's narrow escape; Fred, George, and Ginny were still singing. Hermione was anxious, but before she could say anything, Ron said happily, "I bet Dumbledore turns up this evening to celebrate with us, you know."

"I don't think he'll be able to, Ron," said Mrs. Weasley, setting a huge plate of roast chicken down in front of Harry. "He's really very busy at the moment."

"HE GOT OFF, HE GOT OFF, HE GOT OFF —"

"SHUT UP!" roared Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh Fleecy, do me a solid. Show me Annabeth Chase at…um…wherever she is." Percy said, throwing a drachma and controlling the water in the room to form a rainbow.

Annabeth's room suddenly appeared, with the said person reading a book in the corner of the room, her princess blonde hair tied in a messy bun. Percy smirked.

"WISE GIRL!" he yelled. Annabeth jumped up, her knife suddenly in hand. After seeing the source of the commotion, she calmed down and put it down. But she was glaring at him, which made Percy terrified.

"Umm…eh…Hi?" Percy stuttered.

"Percy!" Annabeth yelled." What is wrong with you? I'm banning you from the Stolls." Percy gave her the baby seal eyes and she sighed.

"You heard?" she asked. Percy understood that it was about Apollo.

"Nico came in my dreams yesterday. He told me everything. And then we saw You-Know-Who."

"Who?"

"The evil dude here."

"Oh. At least you're being smart. Names have power, Percy."

"Learnt that the hard way. Hold on, did Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena, Goddess of Wisdon, call me smart?"

On the very last day of the holidays Harry was sweeping up Hedwig's owl droppings from the top of the wardrobe when Ron entered their bedroom carrying a couple of envelopes.

"Booklists have arrived," he said, throwing one of the envelopes up to Harry, who was standing on a chair. "About time, I thought they'd forgotten, they usually come much earlier than this…. Where's Percy? His booklist is with me."

"Dunno," Harry said, sweeping the last of the droppings into a rubbish bag and threw the bag over Ron's head into the wastepaper basket in the corner, which swallowed it and belched loudly. He then opened his letter: It contained two pieces of parchment, one the usual reminder that term started on the first of September, the other telling him which books he would need for the coming year.

"Only two new ones," he said, reading the list. "The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5, by Miranda Goshawk and Defensive Magical Theory, by Wilbert Slinkhard."

Crack.

Fred and George Apparated right beside Harry. He was so used to them doing this by now that he didn't even fall off his chair.

"We were just wondering who assigned the Slinkhard book," said Fred conversationally.

"Because it means Dumbledore's found a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," said George.

"And about time too," said Fred.

"What d'you mean?" Harry asked, jumping down beside them.

"Well, we overheard Mum and Dad talking on the Extendable Ears a few weeks back," Fred told Harry, "and from what they were saying, Dumbledore was having real trouble finding anyone to do the job this year."

"Not surprising, is it, when you look at what's happened to the last four?" said George.

"One sacked, one dead, one's memory removed, and one locked in a trunk for nine months," said Harry, counting them off on his fingers." Yeah, I see what you mean."

"What's up with you, Ron?" asked Fred.

Ron did not answer. Harry looked around. Ron was standing very still with his mouth slightly open, gaping at his letter from Hogwarts.

"What's the matter?" said Fred impatiently, moving around Ron to look over his shoulder at the parchment. Fred's mouth fell open too.

"Prefect?" he said, staring incredulously at the letter. "Prefect?"

George leapt forward, seized the envelope in Ron's other hand, and turned it upside down. Harry saw something scarlet and gold fall into George's palm.

"No way," said George in a hushed voice.

"There's been a mistake," said Fred, snatching the letter out of Ron's grasp and holding it up to the light as though checking for a watermark.

"No one in their right mind would make Ron a prefect…."

The twins' heads turned in unison and both of them stared at Harry.

"We thought you were a cert!" said Fred in a tone that suggested Harry had tricked them in some way.

"We thought Dumbledore was bound to pick you!" said George indignantly.

"Winning the Triwizard and everything!" said Fred.

"I suppose all the mad stuff must've counted against him," said George to Fred.

"Yeah," said Fred slowly. "Yeah, you've caused too much trouble, mate. Well, at least one of you's got their priorities right."

He strode over to Harry and clapped him on the back while giving Ron a scathing look.

"Prefect . . . ickle Ronnie the prefect . . ."

"Oh, Mum's going to be revolting," groaned George, thrusting the prefect badge back at Ron as though it might contaminate him. Ron, who still had not said a word, took the badge, stared at it for a moment, and then held it out to Harry as though asking mutely for confirmation that it was genuine. Harry took it. A large P was superimposed on the Gryffindor lion. He had seen a badge just like this on Percy Weasley's chest on his very first day at Hogwarts.

The door banged open. Hermione came tearing into the room, her cheeks flushed and her hair flying. There was an envelope in her hand.

"Did you — did you get — ?"

She spotted the badge in Harry's hand and let out a shriek.

"I knew it!" she said excitedly, brandishing her letter. "Me too, Harry, me too!"

"No," said Harry quickly, pushing the badge back into Ron's hand. "It's Ron, not me."

"It — what?"

"Ron's prefect, not me," Harry said.

"Ron?" said Hermione, her jaw dropping. "But . . . are you sure? I mean —" She turned red as Ron looked around at her with a defiant expression on his face.

"It's my name on the letter," he said.

"I . . ." said Hermione, looking thoroughly bewildered. "I . . . well. . . wow! Well done, Ron! That's really —"

"Unexpected," said George, nodding.

"No," said Hermione, blushing harder than ever, "no, it's not . . .Ron's done loads of . . . he's really . . ."

The door behind her opened a little wider and Mrs. Weasley with Percy, carrying a pile of freshly laundered robes.

"Ginny said the booklists had come at last," she said, glancing around at all the envelopes as she made her way over to the bed and started sorting the robes into two piles. Percy sat down on the bed. "We're all going to Diagon Alley today, so we can get everything we need. Ron, I'll have to get you more pajamas, these are at least six inches too short, I can't believe how fast you're growing… What color would you like?"

"Get him red and gold to match his badge," said George, smirking.

"Match his what?" said Mrs. Weasley absently, rolling up a pair of maroon socks and placing them on Ron's pile.

"His badge," said Fred, with the air of getting the worst over quickly. "His lovely shiny new prefect's badge."

Fred's words took a moment to penetrate Mrs. Weasley's preoccupation about pajamas.

"His . . . but . . . Ron, you're not. . .?" Ron held up his badge.

Mrs. Weasley let out a shriek just like Hermione's.

"I don't believe it! I don't believe it! Oh, Ron, how wonderful! A prefect! That's everyone in the family!"

"What are Fred and I, next-door neighbors?" said George indignantly, as his mother pushed him aside and flung her arms around her youngest son.

"Wait until your father hears! Ron, I'm so proud of you, what wonderful news, you could end up Head Boy just like Bill and Percy, it's the first step! Oh, what a thing to happen in the middle of all this worry, I'm just thrilled, oh Ronnie —"

Fred and George were both making loud retching noises behind her back but Mrs. Weasley did not notice; arms tight around Ron's neck, she was kissing him all over his face, which had turned a brighter scarlet than his badge.

"Mum . . . don't . . . Mum, get a grip. . . ." he muttered, trying to push her away.

She let go of him and said breathlessly, "Well, what will it be? We gave Percy an owl, but you've already got one, of course."

"W-what do you mean?" said Ron, looking as though he did not dare believe his ears.

"You've got to have a reward for this!" said Mrs. Weasley fondly.

"How about a nice new set of dress robes?"

"We've already bought him some," said Fred sourly, who looked as though he sincerely regretted this generosity.

"Or a new cauldron, Charlie's old one's rusting through, or a new rat, you always liked Scabbers —"

"Mum," said Ron hopefully, "can I have a new broom?"

Mrs. Weasley's face fell slightly; broomsticks were expensive.

"Not a really good one!" Ron hastened to add. "Just — just a new one for a change . . ."

Mrs. Weasley hesitated, then smiled.

"Of course you can. . . . Well, I'd better get going if I've got a broom to buy too. I'll see you all later. Little Ronnie, a prefect! And don't forget to pack your trunks. . . . A prefect . . . Oh, I'm all of a dither!"

She gave Ron yet another kiss on the cheek, sniffed loudly, and bustled from the room. Fred and George exchanged looks.

"You don't mind if we don't kiss you, do you, Ron?" said Fred in a falsely anxious voice.

"We could curtsy, if you like," said George.

"Oh, shut up," said Ron, scowling at them.

"Or what?" said Fred, an evil grin spreading across his face. "Going to put us in detention?"

"I'd love to see him try," sniggered George.

"He could if you don't watch out!" said Hermione angrily, at which Fred and George burst out laughing and Ron muttered, "Drop it, Hermione."

"We're going to have to watch our step, George," said Fred, pretending to tremble, "with these two on our case. . . ."

"Yeah, it looks like our law-breaking days are finally over," said George, shaking his head.

And with another loud crack, the twins Disapparated.

"Those two!" said Hermione furiously, staring up at the ceiling, through which they could now hear Fred and George roaring with laughter in the room upstairs. "Don't pay any attention to them, Ron, they're only jealous!"

"Yeah, don't bother about them. Their experiments for perfecting the Nosebleed Nougats went wrong, so they're a bit sore from that," Percy said.

"I don't think they are jealous," said Ron doubtfully, also looking up at the ceiling. "They've always said only prats become prefects. . . . Still," he added on a happier note, "they've never had new brooms! I wish I could go with Mum and choose. . . . She'll never be able to afford a Nimbus, but there's the new Cleansweep out, that'd be great. . . . Yeah, I think I'll go and tell her I like the Cleansweep, just so she knows. . . ."

He dashed from the room, leaving Harry, Hermione and Percy alone. For some reason, Harry found that he did not want to look at either one of them. He turned to his bed, picked up the pile of clean robes Mrs. Weasley had laid upon it, and crossed the room to his trunk.

"Harry?" said Hermione tentatively.

"Well done," said Harry, so heartily it did not sound like his voice at all, and still not looking at her. "Brilliant. Prefect. Great."

"Thanks," said Hermione. "Erm — Harry — could I borrow Hedwig so I can tell Mum and Dad? They'll be really pleased — I mean, prefect is something they can understand —"

"Yeah, no problem," said Harry, still in the horrible hearty voice that did not belong to him. "Take her!"

He leaned over his trunk, laid the robes on the bottom of it, and pretended to be rummaging for something while Hermione crossed to the wardrobe and called Hedwig down. A few moments passed; Harry heard the door close but remained bent double, listening; the only sounds he could hear were the blank picture on the wall sniggering again and the wastepaper basket in the corner coughing up the owl droppings.

He straightened up and looked behind him. Hermione and Hedwig had gone. Harry returned slowly to his bed and sank onto it, gazing unseeingly at the foot of the wardrobe. He had forgotten completely about prefects being chosen in the fifth year. He had been too anxious about the possibility of being expelled to spare a thought for the fact that badges must be winging their way toward certain people. But if he had remembered . . . if he had thought about it . . . what would he have expected?

"I know how you feel, Harry." Percy said. Harry had completely forgotten about him." It's okay. You know, you should look at this from Ron's point of view. All his life he's been shunned down by his older brothers and by you."

"What do you mean, 'by me'?" Harry asked.

"Harry Potter. The guy who survived the killing curse. The one destined for greatness. Don't you think he would a little sad by the fact that he doesn't get recognized for anything?" Harry looked down.

"It's not like I wanted it," Harry said.

"No, it's not. But no one seems to care about that. And you can't keep saying that you didn't want any of this. There's a reason you survived, Harry. You're the only ray of hope for all those people living in terror because of You-Know-Who. You need to stop him. And you're going to need your friends for that. You can't keep feeling dejected because you didn't get to be a Prefect. Ron deserves a chance to prove himself, you know," Percy said.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, feeling guilty. Percy was right, he shouldn't be angry. He should be happy that his best friend got to be a Prefect.

"It's not me you should say sorry to, it's Ron."

At this point Harry heard Ron's footsteps on the stairs again. He stood up, straightened his glasses, and hitched a grin onto his face as Ron bounded back through the door.

"Just caught her!" he said happily. "She says she'll get the Cleansweep if she can."

"Cool," Harry said, and he was relieved to hear that his voice had stopped sounding hearty. "Listen — Ron — well done, mate."

The smile faded off Ron's face.

"I never thought it would be me!" he said, shaking his head, "I thought it would be you!"

"Nah, I've caused too much trouble," Harry said, echoing Fred.

"Yeah," said Ron, "yeah, I suppose. . . . Well, we'd better get our trunks packed, hadn't we?"

Harry shot Percy a grateful smile. Percy was right, Ron deserved this.

"This is…oh my gods…Wow."

They were in Diagon Alley. To say that Percy was shocked was an understatement. The wizards were clever, Percy thought. They managed to keep their existence a secret from the mortals for so long. If Annabeth was here; she'd be talking about the science behind all this.

They entered Gringotts first to collect money (and to get a loan for Percy). When they walked in, the goblins all turned to look at them. One of them quickly walked up to them.

"Perseus Jackson," he said. Percy looked at him, surprised, "Follow me." Mrs. Weasley followed them too, but the goblin gave her an annoyed look and said," I only said Perseus Jackson."

"Percy," the demigod said, correcting him automatically, "It's okay Mrs. Weasley. I can take care of myself." She looked a little worried, but still nodded and left. Goblins were hostile, but Percy was a smart kid. Besides, they were running out of time anyway.

"How did the goblin know his name?" Harry asked Hermione and Ron, who were standing right next to him.

"Maybe Dumbledore already came to Gringotts and set a loan for him?" Hermione guessed.

"But then why would they not let Mrs. Weasley go with them?" Harry said.

"I don't know how this loan works, Harry. Why don't you ask Percy when he comes back?" she told him, and then moved to the counter to exchange her muggle money for Galleons. Having nothing else to do, Ron went with her, while Harry went to get money from his vault with Mrs. Weasley.

"Do you have a name?" Percy asked the goblin, as they walked towards a creepy looking cave.

"Greyhold," he said," I haven't seen your kind in quite some time."

"My kind?" Percy asked, fearing the worst. Oh gods.

"I know who you are, son of Posiedon. The recent tales of the demigods who saved Olympus from Gaea has reached the wizarding world."

"How?!" Percy exclaimed, "This place doesn't have any connections with Olympus!"

"Oh, but it does, Mr. Jackson. Magic is Hecate. The first wizards on Earth was blessed by her. The wizards who built Hogwarts were children of Hecate, though they were not aware of this. They held exceptional power, but not as much as the children of the Olympians, because of which they were not seen as a threat by the gods."

"So the gods don't know of this worlds existence?"

"Only a handful are aware. Athena, Posiedon, Hades and Zeus, to be more specific. This world was Heacte's dream, a chance for her to rule. Zeus allowed it exist for this long reluctantly, as long as it doesn't cause problems to the rest of the world. But the Dark Lord's actions could cause this to change. It would mean the end of this world, if he is not stopped."

They were now in front of a huge door, made of Celestial Bronze and Imperial Gold with designs in Stygian Iron. It looked like one of Athena's designing, each pattern carved perfectly.

"Put a drop of your blood here," he said, indicating to a small bowl filled with some liquid. It was not water, that much he could tell. "Opening this vault requires confirmation that you are a demigod."

Percy sighed and took the knife which was on a stand. He made a small cut on his palm with the knife, wincing slightly. He then dipped his hand on the bowl, watching the liquid turn red and then pulled out his hand, which was now completely healed.

The doors to the vault opened, and Greyhold motioned for him to enter, saying," This was created by Zeus for the demigods who might come here. Drachmas and the wizarding currency is there along with weapons, in case any monsters were to attack. I'm not allowed to enter due to the enchantments present. You may take whatever you want." He said and the doors closed.

Percy looked around, and saw a pouch on the corner. He took it, and walked around, grabbing a handful of coins as he did.

"So we got books, ingredients for potions, and robes. What else do we need?" Mrs. Weasley asked the group.

"Wand," Hermione said, looking at Percy.

"And a broom," Ron added.

"So Ginny and I will go get your broom while you four go to Ollivaders and get a wand for Percy," Mrs. Weasley said, and walked off with Ginny right behind her. The two red-heads turned right and disappeared around the corner.

"What happened in Gringotts? Where did that goblin take you?" Ron asked Percy, while they were on their way to the wand shop.

"Err.. Dumbledore had set up some kind of loan for me. They had to do some sort of checking about that," Percy said. Greyhold had told him that lie, saying that the demigod world was not to be exposed to the wizards. The three seemed to buy the story anyways, since they didn't question him further. After a few minutes, they stood in front of Ollivanders.

"This place looks like it got hit by a tornado," Percy said, entering the shop. Boxes were scattered around the place, and a few glass shards were littered around, adding to the mess. In other words, it was dirtier than his room.

"Oh, it was. A girl was testing out a wand a few moments ago, and this was the result," a voice said, and an old man came from around the corner, holding out a wand. He flicked it, and the boxes flew back to the shelves that were in the room. The dust and dirt rose up and disappeared off into thin air, and the broken glass flew back into its place in the window. The shop looked much better now, and Ron whistled in approval.

"You've got to teach me that," Ron said," I won't have to hear Mom's yelling ever again." Percy and Harry nodded to that, while Hermione just shook her head in exasperation.

"So, what can I do for you?" Ollivander asked them.

"I need a wand," Percy said.

"Ahh…yes...I think I have the perfect wand for you..-yes," Ollivander mumbled, and he turned around, walking towards the shelves, grabbing the measuring tape as he went.

Ollivander did not have the perfect wand for him. They were in his shop for an hour, and all of them had lost hope in finding a wand. Only Ollivander seemed optimistic and was apparently happy that he had found a tricky customer.

"Even I didn't take this long to get a wand!" Harry exclaimed. His scar was starting to hurt, and he was getting annoyed by the second. Hermione was watching with curiosity while Ron laughed at Percy's plight.

The wand maker came back, this time with a different coloured box. It was a green box, with black, blue and grey designs.

"A powerful witch gave this to me a long time back, along with another wand. This was meant for a wizard, and the other for a witch. Their owners are connected, just like their wands. Try it," he said, extending the box out to Percy. Ron, Hermione and Harry watched, having a feeling that this was going to be interesting.

Percy opened the box, and took out the wand. Suddenly, white light erupted from it, and surrounded him. Even though he couldn't he anything, he could feel a godly presence. More specifically, his Dad's. He felt stronger and calmer, as though he had just swum on the beach. All the light quickly went back into the wand, and Percy smiled. Holding the wand, he somehow felt better. The wand maker stood in front of him, grinning widely, while Harry, Ron and Hermione stared at him, wide-eyed.

"I knew it. This wand was meant for a powerful wizard, a hero, who is loyal. It is a very strong wand, even more powerful than the Elder Wand. Made out of Celestial Bronze, with Imperial Gold engraving, the two rarest and most powerful magical metals in the entire universe. A Pegasus tail hair core, with and owl's feather as a companion. I expect great things from you, Mr. Jackson. Great things." He said, and sent them off.

Down in the basement, Mrs. Weasley had hung a scarlet banner over the heavily laden dinner table, which read 'Congratulations Ron and Hermione — new prefects'. She had ran down to the kitchen, after coming from Diagon Alley to prepare for diner, where almost all the members of the Order were coming to. She looked in a better mood than Harry and Percy had seen her all holiday.

"I thought we'd have a little party, not a sit-down dinner," she told Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, Percy, and Ginny as they entered the room. "Your father and Bill are on their way, Ron, I've sent them both owls and they're thrilled," she added, beaming.

Fred rolled his eyes.

Sirius, Lupin, Tonks, and Kingsley Shacklebolt were already there and Mad-Eye Moody stumped in shortly after they had got themselves a butterbeer.

"Oh, Alastor, I am glad you're here," said Mrs. Weasley brightly, as Mad-Eye shrugged off his traveling cloak. "We've been wanting to ask you for ages — could you have a look in the writing desk in the drawing room and tell us what's inside it? We haven't wanted to open it just in case it's something really nasty."

"No problem, Molly . . ."

Moody's electric-blue eye swiveled upward and stared fixedly through the ceiling of the kitchen. "Drawing room . . ." he growled, as the pupil contracted. "Desk in the corner? Yeah, I see it. . . . Yeah, it's a boggart. . . . Want me to go up and get rid of it, Molly?"

"No, no, I'll do it myself later," beamed Mrs. Weasley. "You have your drink. We're having a little bit of a celebration, actually. . . ." She gestured at the scarlet banner. "Fourth prefect in the family!" she said fondly, ruffling Ron's hair.

"Prefect, eh?" growled Moody, his normal eye on Ron and his magical eye swiveling around to gaze into the side of his head. Harry had the very uncomfortable feeling it was looking at him and moved away toward Sirius and Lupin.

"Well, congratulations," said Moody, still glaring at Ron with his normal eye, "authority figures always attract trouble, but I suppose Dumbledore thinks you can withstand most major jinxes or he wouldn't have appointed you. . . ." Ron looked rather startled at this view of the matter but was saved the trouble of responding by the arrival of his father and eldest brother. Mrs. Weasley was in such a good mood she did not even complain that they had brought Mundungus with them too; he was wearing a long overcoat that seemed oddly lumpy in unlikely places and declined the offer to remove it and put it with Moody's traveling cloak.

"Well, I think a toast is in order," said Mr. Weasley, when everyone had a drink. He raised his goblet. "To Ron and Hermione, the new Gryffindor prefects," Ron and Hermione beamed as everyone drank to them and then applauded.

"I was never a prefect myself," said Tonks brightly from behind Harry as everybody moved toward the table to help themselves to food. Her hair was tomato-red and waist length today; she looked like Ginny's older sister. "My Head of House said I lacked certain necessary qualities."

"Like what?" said Ginny, who was choosing a baked potato.

"Like the ability to behave myself," said Tonks. Ginny laughed; Hermione looked as though she did not know whether to smile or not and compromised by taking an extra large gulp of butterbeer and choking on it.

"What about you, Sirius?" Ginny asked, thumping Hermione on the back. Sirius, who was right beside Harry, let out his usual barklike laugh.

"No one would have made me a prefect, I spent too much time in detention with James. Lupin was the good boy, he got the badge."

"I think Dumbledore might have hoped that I would be able to exercise some control over my best friends," said Lupin. "I need scarcely say that I failed dismally." Harry's mood suddenly lifted. His father had not been a prefect either. All at once the party seemed much more enjoyable; he loaded up his plate, feeling unusually fond of everyone in the room.

Ron was rhapsodizing about his new broom to anybody who would listen. ". . . naught to seventy in ten seconds, not bad, is it? When you think the Comet Two Ninety's only naught to sixty and that's with a decent tailwind according to Which Broomstick?"

Hermione was talking very earnestly to Lupin about her view of elf rights. "I mean, it's the same kind of nonsense as werewolf segregation, isn't it? It all stems from this horrible thing wizards have of thinking they're superior to other creatures. . . ."

Mrs. Weasley and Bill were having their usual argument about Bill's hair. ". . . getting really out of hand, and you're so good-looking, it would look much better shorter, wouldn't it, Harry?"

"Oh — I dunno —" said Harry, slightly alarmed at being asked his opinion; he slid away from them in the direction of Fred and George, who were huddled in a corner with Mundungus. Mundungus stopped talking when he saw Harry, but Fred winked and beckoned Harry closer.

"It's okay," he told Mundungus, "we can trust Harry, he's our financial backer."

"Look what Dung's gotten us," said George, holding out his hand to Harry. It was full of what looked like shriveled black pods. A faint rattling noise was coming from them, even though they were completely stationary.

"Venomous Tentacula seeds," said George. "We need them for the Skiving Snackboxes but they're a Class C Non-Tradeable Substance so we've been having a bit of trouble getting hold of them."

"Ten Galleons the lot, then, Dung?" said Fred.

"Wiv all the trouble I went to to get 'em?" said Mundungus, his saggy, bloodshot eyes stretching even wider. "I'm sorry, lads, but I'm not taking a Knut under twenty."

"Dung likes his little joke," Fred said to Harry.

"Yeah, his best one so far has been six Sickles for a bag of knarl quills," said George.

"Be careful," Harry warned them quietly.

"What?" said Fred. "Mum's busy cooing over Prefect Ron, we're okay."

"But Moody could have his eye on you," Harry pointed out. Mundungus looked nervously over his shoulder.

"Good point, that," he grunted. "All right, lads, ten it is, if you'll take 'em quick."

"Cheers, Harry!" said Fred delightedly, when Mundungus had emptied his pockets into the twins' outstretched hands and scuttled off toward the food. "We'd better get these upstairs. . . ."

Harry watched them go, feeling slightly uneasy. It had just occurred to him that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would want to know how Fred and George were financing their joke shop business when, as was inevitable, they finally found out about it. Giving the twins his Triwizard winnings had seemed a simple thing to do at the time, but what if it led to another family row and a Percy-like estrangement? Would Mrs. Weasley still feel that Harry was as good as her son if she found out he had made it possible for Fred and George to start a career she thought quite unsuitable?

Standing where the twins had left him with nothing but a guilty weight in the pit of his stomach for company, Harry caught the sound of his own name. Kingsley Shacklebolt's deep voice was audible even over the surrounding chatter.

". . . why Dumbledore didn't make Potter a prefect?" said Kingsley.

"He'll have had his reasons," replied Lupin.

"But it would've shown confidence in him. It's what I'd've done," persisted Kingsley, " 'specially with the Daily Prophet having a go at him every few days. . . ."

Harry did not look around; he did not want Lupin or Kingsley to know he had heard. He followed Mundungus back toward the table, though not remotely hungry. His pleasure in the party had evaporated as quickly as it had come; he wished he were upstairs in bed. Mad-Eye Moody was sniffing at a chicken leg with what remained of his nose; evidently he could not detect any trace of poison, because he then tore a strip off it with his teeth.

Percy was sitting at the corner of the table, playing with the wand in his hand. Harry went off to sit beside him.

"Hey," Percy said, not looking at him. "What happened? Don't feel like you fit in?" Harry shrugged in reply.

"I don't think I belong here," Percy said. "I had this entire year planned out, you know? Go off to a college in California with Annabeth, graduate, enjoy some peace and quiet for once, and all that. I thought of so many things that would interrupt my plans, and how we'd get past all those problems. An evil grandfather who is a wizard was not part of those."

"Whose Annabeth?" Harry asked.

"My girlfriend," Percy said, smiling. Harry looked at him, shocked.

"What?" Percy asked. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I didn't know you had a girlfriend," Harry said.

You don't know a lot of things about me, Percy thought but said nothing. They sat there, listening to everyone else.

". . . the handle's made of Spanish oak with anti-jinx varnish and in-built vibration control —" Ron was saying to Tonks. Mrs. Weasley yawned widely. "Well, I think I'll sort out that boggart before I turn in. . . . Arthur, I don't want this lot up too late, all right? 'Night, Harry, dear."

She left the kitchen. Percy went with Mrs. Weasley, saying that he was tired. Harry set down his plate and wondered whether he could follow them without attracting attention. "You all right, Potter?" grunted Moody.

"Yeah, fine," lied Harry. Moody took a swig from his hip flask, his electric blue eye staring sideways at Harry.

"Come here, I've got something that might interest you," he said. From an inner pocket of his robes Moody pulled a very tattered old Wizarding photograph.

"Original Order of the Phoenix," growled Moody. "Found it last night when I was looking for my spare Invisibility Cloak, seeing as Podmore hasn't had the manners to return my best one. . . . Thought people might like to see it." Harry took the photograph. A small crowd of people, some waving at him, others lifting their glasses, looked back up at him.

"There's me," said Moody unnecessarily, pointing at himself. The Moody in the picture was unmistakable, though his hair was slightly less gray and his nose was intact.

"And there's Dumbledore beside me, Dedalus Diggle on the other side . . . That's Marlene McKinnon, she was killed two weeks after this was taken, they got her whole family. That's Frank and Alice Longbottom —" Harry's stomach, already uncomfortable, clenched as he looked at Alice Longbottom; he knew her round, friendly face very well, even though he had never met her, because she was the image of her son, Neville.

"Poor devils," growled Moody. "Better dead than what happened to them . . . and that's Emmeline Vance, you've met her, and that there's Lupin, obviously . . . Benjy Fenwick, he copped it too, we only ever found bits of him . . . shift aside there," he added, poking the picture, and the little photographic people edged sideways, so that those who were partially obscured could move to the front.

"That's Edgar Bones . . . brother of Amelia Bones, they got him and his family too, he was a great wizard . . . Sturgis Podmore, blimey, he looks young . . . Caradoc Dearborn, vanished six months after this, we never found his body . . . Hagrid, of course, looks exactly the same as ever . . . Elphias Doge, you've met him, I'd forgotten he used to wear that stupid hat . . . Gideon Prewett, it took five Death Eaters to kill him and his brother Fabian, they fought like heroes . . . budge along, budge along . . ."

The little people in the photograph jostled among themselves, and those hidden right at the back appeared at the forefront of the picture. "That's Dumbledore's brother, Aberforth, only time I ever met him, strange bloke . . . That's Dorcas Meadowes, Voldemort killed her personally . . . Sirius, when he still had short hair . . . and . . . there you go, thought that would interest you!"

Harry's heart turned over. His mother and father were beaming up at him, sitting on either side of a small, watery-eyed man Harry recognized at once as Wormtail: He was the one who had betrayed their whereabouts to Voldemort and so helped bring about their deaths.

"Eh?" said Moody. Harry looked up into Moody's heavily scarred and pitted face. Evidently Moody was under the impression he had just given Harry a bit of a treat.

"Yeah," said Harry, attempting to grin again. "Er . . . listen, I've just remembered, I haven't packed my . . ." He was spared the trouble of inventing an object he had not packed; Sirius had just said, "What's that you've got there, Mad-Eye?" and Moody had turned toward him.

Harry crossed the kitchen slipped through the door and up the stairs before anyone could call him back. He did not know why he had received such a shock; he had seen his parents' pictures before, after all, and he had met Wormtail . . . but to have them sprung on him like that, when he was least expecting it . . . No one would like that, he thought angrily. . . . And then, to see them surrounded by all those other happy faces . . . Benjy Fenwick, who had been found in bits, and Gideon Prewett, who had died like a hero, and the Longbottoms, who had been tortured into madness . . . all waving happily out of the photograph forevermore, not knowing that they were doomed. . . . Well, Moody might find that interesting . . . he, Harry, found it disturbing.

Harry tiptoed up the stairs in the hall past the stuffed elf heads, nearing his room, when he heard someone screaming. He ran up the remaining few flights of stairs, and saw the source of the commotion.

Percy.

Percy had gone up to his room, after saying a goodnight to Mrs. Weasley who had entered the room next to his to remove something called a boggart. Even after studying about it, he forgot about what it does.

That was his first mistake.

He was talking to his mom when he heard the sobbing. Mrs. Weasley, he instantly thought. He said goodbye to his mom, and quickly ran out of his room and entered the next, Riptide in pen form in his hand.

Mrs. Weasley was lying on the floor and was crying. She was looking at a boy, who was lying on the floor. There was blood around him, and suddenly he realized that the boy was Ron.

"Wha- How?" Percy said, looking shocked. He quickly ran towards him, when suddenly Ron's body started changing.

Annabeth was now lying in place of Ron, a knife in her stomach. Her eyes looked glazed, and there were cuts all over her body. Percy fell to his knees, and crawled towards Annabeth, hoping that she wasn't dead.

"Please…no.. Annabeth…" he mumbled, tears flowing from his eyes." ANNABETH!" he screamed. "NOO…"

He blinked, and suddenly it was his Mom in place of Annabeth. He cried louder. No... this couldn't be happening. He screamed again, and saw his Dad, looming over him.

"I wish you weren't born. You are a mistake, "he said.

"Riddikulus!" Lupin yelled, and his dad vanished. A silvery orb hung in the air over the spot where it had lain. Lupin waved his wand once more and the orb vanished in a puff of smoke.

As soon as the rest of the order had heard Percy's screams, they had followed Harry, and instantly realized what had happened. Ron, Harry and Ginny ran over to Mrs. Weasley, trying to calm her down, while Lupin went to Percy. The poor boy was shaking so badly, tears streaming down his face.

"I-I didn't realize-boggart-fears.." Percy mumbled.

"It's alright. Nothing was real," Lupin assured him. He helped him get back to his feet. Percy, after seeing Mrs. Weasley, he wiped his tears and went over to her.

"Oh — oh — oh!" gulped Mrs. Weasley, and she broke into a storm of crying, her face in her hands.

"Molly," said Lupin bleakly, walking over to her, "Molly, don't . . ." Next second she was sobbing her heart out on Lupin's shoulder.

"Molly, it was just a boggart," he said soothingly, patting her on the head. "Just a stupid boggart . . ."

"I see them d-d-dead all the time!" Mrs. Weasley moaned into his shoulder. "All the t-t-time! I d-d-dream about it . . ."

Moody was looking at Percy, who avoided his gaze. He had a feeling that Moody had seen what had happened, with that weird eye of his.

"D-d-don't tell Arthur," Mrs. Weasley was gulping now, mopping her eyes frantically with her cuffs. "I d-d-don't want him to know. . . . Being silly . . ."

Lupin handed her a handkerchief and she blew her nose.

"Percy.. I'm so so-sorry. I j-just saw them d-dead and...-" Mrs. Weasley said.

"It's okay, Mrs. Weasley. It's not like I was much help." Percy replied. He was still shaking slightly, and Mrs. Weasley moved to hug him. He gladly accepted it.

"I'm just s-s-so worried," she said, tears spilling out of her eyes again. "Half the f-f-family's in the Order, it'll b-b-be a miracle if we all come through this. . . . and P-P-Percy's not talking to us. . . . What if something d-d-dreadful happens and we had never m-m-made up? And what's going to happen if Arthur and I get killed, who's g-g-going to look after Ron and Ginny?"

"Molly, that's enough," said Lupin firmly. "This isn't like last time. The Order is better prepared, we've got a head start, we know what Voldemort's up to —"Mrs. Weasley gave a little squeak of fright at the sound of the name.

"Oh, Molly, come on, it's about time you got used to hearing it — look, I can't promise no one's going to get hurt, nobody can promise that, but we're much better off than we were last time, you weren't in the Order then, you don't understand, last time we were outnumbered twenty to one by the Death Eaters and they were picking us off one by one. . . ."

"Don't worry about Percy," said Sirius abruptly. "He'll come round. It's a matter of time before Voldemort moves into the open; once he does, the whole Ministry's going to be begging us to forgive them. And I'm not sure I'll be accepting their apology," he added bitterly.

"And as for who's going to look after Ron and Ginny if you and Arthur died," said Lupin, smiling slightly, "what do you think we'd do, let them starve?" Mrs. Weasley smiled tremulously.

"Being silly," she muttered again, mopping her eyes.

Percy didn't think so. It was true, there were chances that they would die. He knew that it was going to end in a war, there was no way Voldemort would be defeated easily. A war was coming and they were in the middle of it. And it was going to end in death. Like every other war he has been in.

So I think an explanation is in order. The "Don't use Voldemort's name" thing will be explained in the next chapter. The incident in Ollivander's shop seems dumb, but it's a very important part. A character from Percy Jackson will be introduced in the next chapter, which I'm already half way done with. The idea of Annabeth and his Mom dying in Percy's fear is usually what is seen, and it was something that I've wanted to do since the beginning of this story. Percy being afraid of his Dad disowning him was a later addition to the story, which was a suggestion given by a Guest. Thank you for that idea. I hadn't thought about it initially, and this will be addressed in later on in the story. Most of you might be thinking that Percy recovered too soon from the boggart incident. You should remember that Percy is a hero. Chances are that he'd help someone else before helping himself. Also all of his fears are things that he has already faced in his life. He thought his Mom had died in the Minotaur attack. Annabeth is a demigod like him, which means she too faces the threat of dying. Percy's Dad had already said that he wished Percy wasn't born, right after he had found the lightning bolt. Which practically means he has faced his fears, but have not overcome them. So he'd easily recover from them, once he realizes that they are not real. Also, I know the goblin's name is kind of dumb. So if you have any suggestions, PM me. I'll probably change it once I find a good name.

Thank you so much for reading this story and for reviewing. Until next time.

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