The blade whipped through the air so fast and cleanly that the straw dummies didn't topple over for a second before realizing they were cut into at least twelve separate pieces. Only a few droplets of sweat fell upon the newly scattered straw. Harry Potter sheathed his celestial bronze sword and placed it back on the weapons rack. He rubbed the rough, hard skin of the callouses that had formed on his palms from many years of sparring practice, not giving the lighting shaped marks there a second glance. Chiron had told him that it was due to his ingestion of a large amount of nectar as an infant, and now he just regarded it as part of him. There were a great many things that were different than others due to the nectar, such as his greater strength, speed, and agility than other kids his age, and his nectar-enhanced healing factor. Part of him that was different than everyone else, but part of him nonetheless. He sighed, looked over the damage he had wrought with a grin, and walked out of the training pavilion to find Chiron. They needed to make new training dummies again.

-oO0o0Oo-

He had been at Camp Half-Blood ever since he could remember. Chiron had told him about the mysterious stranger who had left him here, and he couldn't help feeling resentment towards the man. Who leaves an infant with a person that doesn't even know your name and disappears before he tells you the name of the baby? The only reason they knew his name was because it was written on his baby clothes. Sometimes, when he was feeling particularly lonely, he would look at his mother's handwriting and imagine being with her and the rest of his family.

While Camp Half-Blood was beautiful, and he was glad that he wasn't stuck in an orphanage somewhere, he wasn't like the rest of the campers. He didn't have a godly parent, at least one they knew about, or any amazing powers aside the ones gained due to his ingestion of nectar at an early age. The campers didn't harass him, but they didn't accept him either, except the Ares cabin, who bullied everyone. He hated being the focus of attention, so from a very young age, he would get up early, leave the Hermes' cabin, and go off on his own. In these hours of solitude, he learned how to sword fight, practice archery, learn ancient Greek, climb the lava wall, and most importantly, read. Any books he could get his hands on he would treat as if it was a precious friend, for that's what they were. When he was reading a book, he was surrounded by people who knew and accepted him, and would have his back in any fight. It was his escape from the loneliness at Camp Half-Blood, where the only person who would converse with him was Chiron, and he was usually busy leading the camp. Of course the skills he practiced were put to good use, as during the nightly games everyone wanted the Hermes' cabin on their side, so they could have Harry Potter. But after the games were over, no one wanted to be near him. It might have been because of the strange things that happened when he was scared or afraid. Once, a hellhound had managed to get past the boundaries and made as if to leap on Harry. He had shoved his hands forward for some measure of protection from the assault and the beast ended up flying back twenty feet and impaling itself on a tree branch. After that episode, Chiron forbade Harry to leave the camp, which he was fine with. Where else would he want to go? However, it didn't change the truth that in the camper's eyes, he was an asset, not a person.

-oO0o0Oo-

The grass was wet with the morning dew as he strode across the quiet camp. This was his favorite time of day, when the campers were still asleep and he could do the things he wanted. He found Chiron at the archery range, practicing. Down at the far end, it looked as if more than 6 arrows had hit exactly in the dead center, corresponding with the six missing arrows from Chiron's quiver. Exchanging nods of acknowledgement, Harry grabbed a bow and quiver, and began to shoot at the next target over. He didn't prefer archery, Chiron and the Apollo cabin crushed him, but he was still a pretty good shot.

"Done with sparring so soon?" said Chiron, drawing back his bow, "I would have thought this latest batch of dummies would have lasted a little longer than the previous ones." The arrow joined its brothers at the exact center of the target.

"It seems we may need to use sturdier materials," replied Harry, drawing back his bow, "Or perhaps moving targets? Although a sparring partner might be a better idea than to keep replacing these dummies." The arrow landed below the center dot.

"Release your bow as you release your breath, Harry," the centaur instructed while collecting his arrows, "Do not be so hasty. Relax, aim higher than your target, and let the arrow fly."

"Oh come now, why won't you spar with me?" Harry replied. He drew his bow, remembered his teacher's instructions, and released. The arrow hit the exact center with a satisfying thwack.

"Good job," Chiron remarked, watching Harry's shot, "But you are not pulling back with your full strength."

"You know as well as I do that this bow would splinter if I were to pull back fully," Harry replied, drawing his bow again, "And stop avoiding the question." The arrow buzzed down the length of the range and split the previous arrow directly down the center.

"Very good. You are improving," Chiron nodded, approvingly, "And as for your other question, I had hoped to save the answer for tomorrow, but you always are so curious. I guess I will have to find another present for your eleventh birthday."

Harry smiled up at Chiron with boyish enthusiasm. Chiron remembered when Harry was like that every day, but now such periods of happiness were few and far between. He noticed that Harry was now scowling and sighed. He wished Harry could be happy for more than a few moments.

"What is it, Harry?" Chiron asked, taking the bow from Harry and replacing the weapon back on the rack.

"You just seemed particularly bright just now," the boy replied, staring out across camp at the stirrings of the demigods, "In fact, everyone down there seems brighter than normal." Chiron shook his head. When would they ever know of the true extent of the alterations the nectar had made?

"It is possible that you are seeing their godly auras," he thought aloud, stroking his short beard, "I could ask the Hesphatus cabin to make a pair of glasses if the sensation is too unbearable? Since you already know of the gift I was intending to give you, perhaps this can serve as a replacement." Chiron looked kindly down upon the boy. He had grown up so fast, it seemed like yesterday that a mysterious old man had appeared out of nowhere and left the baby at Chiron's hooves.

"Thank you, that would be wonderful," Harry replied, shading his eyes while looking up at him. Looking down at those gold-flecked green eyes, Chiron could see the struggles behind them, and wished that the campers could be more accepting. He took the conch shell from his belt and blew it.

"Time to rejoin the others," Harry said, with no small amount of reluctance, staring down at the dinning pavilion.

"I know you don't want to be with them, but it is pancakes this morning," Chiron said, trying to hide his sadness at the boy's estrangement, "I seem to remember that they were your favorite. Besides, you will have to take your daily schooling lessons with them, no point in putting off the inevitable."

"You never forget anything, do you Chiron?" the boy replied, smiling faintly, then set off down the hill, the tension in his shoulders rising with every step. Chiron watched him go, a frown upon his face, then galloped off toward the Big House. Dionysus grew grumpy when he missed breakfast, and the last time Chiron had failed to summon him on time the god had turned a camper into a strawberry plant for the day. While the berries were delicious, he didn't want a repeat performance.

-oO0o0Oo-

Dumbledore strode into his Headmistresses' office without so much as a knock, his colorful robes swirling behind him. The Headmistress was not sitting at her desk, but Dumbledore knew where she spent her quiet hours. Unknown to her students, in one of her desk drawers a cushion was stored, and curled up while napping rested a tabby cat with particular markings around the eyes. Dumbledore resisted the temptation to scratch the cat behind the ears, and cleared his throat. The cat's eyes snapped open, focusing immediately on the Headmaster's face. It yawned and stretched, and presently Professor McGonagal was standing beside Dumbledore, wide eyed and alert. The witch brushed off her emerald green robes, straightened her hat, and sat down at her desk.

"What is it, Albus? Did my chess set decide to go roaming around the halls again?" she asked, picking up a piece of paperwork from one of the stacks on her desk and frowning at it.

"No, it is about Harry Potter," sighed Dumbledore, conjuring an armchair and taking a seat, "He hasn't received or replied to any of our letters."

"I sent them to the address you gave me," the transfiguration professor replied as she set a quill to signing her signature on the various forms, "Long Island is not short journey, it is possible the owls got lost or intercepted."

"That is true," Dumbledore replied, unwrapping a lemon drop, "Or it may be a more sinister reason. The Boy-Who-Lived is an enticing target." The stern witch looked up at Albus and frowned.

"You don't truly believe has come to harm, do you?" she said, skeptically, "You assured me that the boy would be perfectly safe living in the muggle world. In fact, I seem to remember that it was that very reason that kept me from raising Harry myself." Dumbledore had to acknowledge that McGonagal had been very cross with him for that escapade. Even though McGonagal had served him loyally for many years, he wanted his newest weapon clean of any outsider influence. That way it would be easier for him to turn Harry to his side.

"I expect not, but in any case, I am sending you to deliver the letter," he replied, "Hagrid would be out of his depth if I were to ask him to go continent hopping." McGonagal nodded her agreement.

"I will leave in the morning," she said, "Now, about Hagrid's pet beast. How are we supposed to keep the students from finding the three-headed thing? This school has a safety record to uphold."

The two old associates talked for hours before they departed ways. Harry Potter was in for the surprise of a lifetime.

-oO0o0Oo-

AN:

All rights belong to the wonderful J. K. Rowling and Rick Riordan.

So Harry's story gets fleshed out a bit more before he heads off to Hogwarts, where the fun and games begin.

As for all your reviews, what better place to find answers than the best magical school in the world?

Thanks for reading!