A/N: First Chapter of 2016! It's been what . . . 4 months? Honestly, this update is long overdue and I'm so sorry it took me so long. To try to make up for it, this chapter is extra long. There's a couple reasons behind my slow update:

1. I'm super lazy.

2. I procrastinate.

3. I have fallen into the trap called anime. I swear . . . Code Geass only exists to make my heart shatter into a million pieces.

4. To be honest, I'm more of a reader than a writer. I enjoying writing and seeing people enjoy my story, but it's much more fun (and easier) to read others' work.

5. School has become even more busy. My electives have been increasingly becoming more stressful because of all the work I need to put into it (even if they are supposed to be relaxing and fun), and classes are getting harder.

Hope you enjoy!

Also, a dedication to my friend for badgering me to update ever single time I talked to her. And sorry for my grammatical errors.

Midnight.

Percy growled, irritated. That was supposed to be the time of the meeting. Percy paced the Room of Requirement in frustration, glancing at his watch every few seconds. He glared at the door, as if he could will the presence of Draco with his eyes. Honestly, how long does it take to walk up a couple of stairs and walk some feet to a stupid room? Not three hours! It was already 12:30, and there was no sign of one blond, Slytherin, son of Minerva.

"Honestly, how hard is it to climb a couple of stairs and walk some feet?" Percy muttered to himself.

As if on cue, the door creaked open slightly, allowing Draco Malfoy to slip through.

"What took you so long?" Percy demanded.

"Sorry," Draco apologized. "But the Slytherin house only recently vacated the Common Room. With the return of the Dark Lord, people have been so uptight lately. There's tension between those in Slytherin who openly support the Dark, and those who wish to remain neutral. And of course, those with that side with the Light—if there are any—do not dare reveal their true beliefs. With so many Slytherins who follow Voldemort, others have been careful in their words and actions so they don't invite unwelcome company."

Percy scoffed. "You Slytherins and your inter-house politics. Why can't you all just speak freely?"

Draco chuckled. "I wish. Still, we are renowned for our cunning. Anyways, I've taken the liberty of informing Severus of the situation. He'll be along shortly. Apparently, the beginning of the year staff meeting will take longer than usual because they need to address safety concerns and review defense procedures. I suggest we wait for him to start."

"Alright," Percy sighed. "What's another couple of minutes?" Percy leaned back in a chair that appeared at the thought, taking the time to observe his wizard-demigod friend. He had certainly changed from the pompous, arrogant blood supremacist in his first year. Percy could clearly remember the events leading up to this change . . .

Percy was heading to the training grounds when he started to hear yells and clamors. Percy was about to call out to the closest person to him for answers, but before he could, he heard a shout.

''Hey Percy!"

Percy spun around. "Travis! What's going on?"

Travis grinned. "You're just the guy I was looking for. There's a new guy who suddenly appeared. There's no satyr with him, no parent to guide him. But he passed the border. I was coming to get someone when he started to get pretty violent. He was yelling a bunch of nonsense that I didn't really understand, but I'm pretty sure he was insulting us."

"Why did you leave him alone then?" Percy demanded.

"Oh he's not alone," the son of Hermes waved his hand dismissively. "Clarisse's with him."

"What?" Percy yelled. "You left him alone with Clarisse? Are you crazy?"

Travis smiled sheepishly. "Now that I think about it, that probably wasn't the best solution."

"You think?" Percy muttered.

"Anyways, do you think you can check on them for me? I'd do it, but I promised Conner I would help him plan a prank on Demeter's cabin. Bye!"

Percy gaped, staring at Travis' retreating back. Was he serious? With a sigh, Percy resigned himself to the task and started jogging up the hill, the yelling becoming increasingly louder and clearer.

"Unhand me at once you piece of filth! How dare you touch me! My father will hear about this!" Something about those words nagged at Percy. A uneasy feeling stirred within him. Those words sounded pretty familiar, as did the voice.

"Who are you calling a filth, you blond ponce? You're just another snobby little rich kid who thinks they're too good to be around us normal people, aren't you? Well guess what? Your precious little daddy ain't here to save you."

Percy was about to reprimand Clarisse until he heard the next words of the unknown stranger.

"Well, where I come from, no person in their right mind would ever lower himself to associate with such barbaric, uncouth muggles like you. You're not even fit to lick my shoes," he taunted.

Percy stopped abruptly in his tracks in shock. This couldn't be happening. Blond ponce? Muggles? Rich father? Eyes widening in realization, Percy raced up the hill frantically. This was bad. Very, very bad. If his instincts were right . . .

"If there's anyone here who's barbaric and uncouth, it's you! I don't know what a muggle is, but coming from you, it can't be a good thing." Clarisse grabbed a fistful of the guy's shirt and pulled back her fist in preparation to punch him. The person—who was clearly a wizard—started to pull a long stick out of his pocket.

Percy panicked. "Both of you, stop it!" Percy yelled. Both heads swiveled towards him simultaneously.

"Like Hades I would! Did you hear what this guy said, Prissy?"

"Jackson?"

Percy sighed. "Malfoy."

"What are you doing here?" Malfoy growled, once he got over his shock.

Percy raised his eyebrow. "I go to camp here," he said, gesturing over the valley.

"You know this guy, Jackson?" Clarisse demanded.

"Unfortunately," Percy sighed once more. He seemed to be doing that too much lately. "He goes to my school."

"This is the company you associate yourself with?" Draco sneered. "No wonder you Americans are so uncivilized."

"You want to say that to my face?" Clarisse growled, curling her fist in a threatening manner.

"Enough," Percy cut in sharply. "Clarisse, let go of him, I'll take him to the Big House."

Rather than setting Malfoy down gently, Clarisse shoved him down to the ground before returning to guard duty. Percy rolled his eyes. He supposed that he couldn't expect Clarisse do otherwise.

Dragging Malfoy into the woods, where they wouldn't be overheard, Percy growled, "What are you doing here, Malfoy? How did you get here?"

"What do you mean I'm doing here?" Malfoy shot back. "What are you doing here?" he asked, brandishing his wand.

"Are you an idiot, Malfoy?" Percy asked, pushing Malfoy's arm down. "We're in a area full of muggles. Are you trying to break the Statute of Secrecy?" Percy took in a deep breath. "And I've already told you. I go to camp here."

Malfoy scoffed. "I'm not an idiot, Jackson. What kind camp requires everyone to carry a sword or a bow and arrows?"

"Never mind that," Percy waved his hand dismissively. "I want to know is how you passed the border."

Malfoy shot Percy looked that clearly indicated he thought the son of Poseidon was stupid. "What border? I just walked here like a normal person."

Percy groaned. "What are you doing here in America anyways?"

Malfoy frowned. "I was going to the Quidditch World Cup by portkey. Clearly the portkey was made by some incompetent fool. I landed here, and just followed the voices until I reached this place."

Percy bit his lip. He couldn't exactly reveal the existence of the Greek gods to Malfoy without knowing if he was a demigod. But he passed the border. Did the border allow wizards to pass due to their magical blood, or was Draco Malfoy truly a demigod?

"Come with me," Percy gestured as he made up his mind. "We're going to the big house." Chiron might be able to solve this dilemma if nothing else, even if Percy would have to explain the magical world to him. Besides, Percy sincerely doubted that the old trainer had never met one of the magical folk in all his thousands of years of existence. Percy started to walk out of the woods until he realized that Malfoy wasn't following him. He frowned. "Come on, we don't have all day, you know?" he called out impatiently.

"Why should I go with you?" Malfoy demanded, stubbornly refusing to move. "The last time I checked you were my enemy. What are you planning to do to me?"

Percy rolled his eyes at his childish antics. "Don't you think if I wanted to harm you, I would have done it already? Besides, didn't you agree to come into the woods with me?"

"I hardly agreed," Malfoy pointed out. "You dragged me in here and silenced my protests."

Percy shrugged. "Whatever. You didn't leave, did you? Anyways, this is the only way to get you home." Percy paused. "You do want to get home, don't you?"

Malfoy scowled. "Fine. But let it be known that I only agreed because I have no choice. Don't start thinking we're friends now."

"Of course," Percy said sarcastically. "The day I become friends with you is the day pigs start flying (Percy had no idea that pigs could actually fly and that Malfoy would actually become his friend)," he muttered under his breath, walking out of the woods.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing," Percy called back. Honestly, this was far more trouble than it was actually worth. Fortunately, Chiron was in the Big House so Percy didn't have to go through the trouble of having to find him. Unfortunately, Mr. D was also there.

"Oh look, if it isn't Perry Johnson. What do you want now, brat?" he asked, not looking up from the magazine he was reading.

Percy sighed, not even bothering to correct his name. There was no point. "We have a . . . special visitor," Percy said, with a lack of a better word to call Malfoy. "This is Draco Malfoy. He's from Britain."

"This is who you wanted to meet? An old cripple and this pudgy, disgusting man?" Malfoy sneered. "How are they going to get me back home?"

"This 'pudgy, disgusting man' has the power to turn you into a dolphin for the rest of your miserable life," Mr. D said softly, with an underlying "don't mess with me" tone.

"Malfoy!" Percy admonished.

Chiron raised his eyebrow. "My dear boy, I hope that you'll change that attitude of yours," Chiron said mildly, rising out of his wheelchair to reveal his full form. "I also hope that you'll learn that looks don't mean everything."

"You're a centaur?" Malfoy stumbled back in shock, flicking his wrist to reveal a length of wood. Chiron's eyes widened.

"Percy," Chiron said calmly, masking his surprise quickly, "Would you please leave us alone for a while? There are some things that I must discuss in private that are not to be heard for some ears."

Ignoring Mr. D's grumble ("Oh look, it's another one of those no-good wizards. How wonderful."), Percy shook his head. "Sorry sir. Malfoy is my responsibility and I think a familiar face might help in this situation. I go to the same school as him perhaps I can help explain what's going on here. Besides," Percy said, drawing out his own wand from his pocket, "if you are concerned about breaking the Statute of Secrecy, your worries are unnecessary."

Chiron raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You're a wizard as well, Percy? I admit that I had not expected this from you. Very well. Now, I believe that you both go to Hogwarts?"

Percy nodded. "I do have some questions though. Does the border allow those with magical blood to pass through, or . . . ?"

"The border was made to protect those that carry the blood of the gods, and keep enemies and the unknown out. It does not allow the magical folk through, despite their distant relations with us. I'm afraid that your friend is a descendant of one of the gods." Chiron glanced to his left. "Did I miss something, Mr. D?"

"Correct as ever," Mr. D sighed.

"Excuse me? What nonsense are you talking about? Gods don't exist," Malfoy scoffed. Thunder boomed.

Percy spun around, startled. He had been so focused on his conversation that he had forgotten that Malfoy was even there.

"Well, I suppose now is a good time as any. My boy," Chiron started out. "What do you know about the Greek gods?"

Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "What do you hope to accomplish by asking such a question?"

Chiron smiled benignly. "Please answer the question."

"They're just a myth," Malfoy bit out scathingly. "Made up by the imagination of a bunch of hopeless fools." Lightning crackled above as the sky darkened.

"Typical answer of your kind," Mr. D scoffed.

"I would advise you not to scorn unknown matters so quickly," Chiron warned. "Lord Zeus is . . . unpleasant when he is displeased."

"You bet Father is," Mr. D snorted. "He sentenced me here watching over you ungrateful brats for a century and he refuses to lift or reduce my sentence."

"What do you mean, 'Lord Zeus'?" Malfoy asked dubiously. "He's not real."

Dionysus snorted. "On the contrary, brat, Zeus is indeed real. I should know after all. He is my father."

Malfoy looked at them with disbelieving eyes, waiting for someone to contradict Mr. D. "You're all crazy," he said when nobody answered to the unspoken question. "Greek gods aren't real!" Percy sympathized with him. It wasn't that hard to understand his reaction. Malfoy's home environment had influenced him greatly, leaving him with close minded. Still, it wasn't good to invoke the wrath of a god, especially when there was one in the same room.

Mr. D's eyes lit with a purple fire. It was at these times when the god discarded his lazy, aloof attitude did he actually become a fearsome god not to be trifled with. Not that Percy would ever admit that.

"Oh, really? 'Greek gods aren't real,' he says," the god of wine mimicked. "Then how do you explain this?" he asked, snapped his fingers. Instantly, a glass of wine appeared in his hands. Thunder boomed. "Sorry, my bad!" Dionysus shouted to the sky. "Geez, you think Father would lay off me just one time," he muttered, popping open a can of Diet Coke that had replaced the alcohol.

"It was just an act of wandless magic," Malfoy defended. "I'm seen my father do it plenty of times."

Mr. D raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "And what about the thunder?"

"A coincidence."

"I suppose that it was just a coincidence that it only happened when we irritated a god?" Malfoy hesitated.

"And what about Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration?" Percy added. "You can't conjure food out of thin air."

"Face the facts, boy. Greek gods are real. This is why I hate you wizards. You don't accept anything that doesn't fit in the perfect little world you've created, even when the facts have been shoved in your face," Mr. D sighed. "I'll be leaving you to deal with brat, Chiron. I don't want to waste my time with another disbeliever," he said, leaving the room.

Chiron sighed. "There goes the director. I suppose that leaves me to explain things. As Mr. D stated, the Greek gods are indeed real."

"Greek gods aren't real," Malfoy denied vehemently.

"Humor me for a bit," Chiron said.

"Fine. I suppose they live on Mount Olympus in Greece?" Malfoy asked sarcastically.

"Right and wrong, Mr. Malfoy," Chiron said calmly to Malfoy, who obviously hadn't expected an answer. "The gods do live on Mount Olympus. However, Mount Olympus is currently located in America."

"Are you stupid, old man?" Malfoy scoffed. "Clearly, this is all just a sham. You can't even get your facts straight. Mountains can't move."

"No, they can't," Chiron acknowledged. "However, the palace has and is still referred to as Olympus today. The concept you know as Western Civilization is a living force, a consciousness that have kept the gods alive for millennia. It first started in Greece, then moving on to Rome. Zeus became Jupiter and Hermes, Mercury. Perhaps you have heard those names? I imagine that you have studied the planets in an Astronomy class.

"After Rome came Germany, France, England. Consider the Elgin Marbles. A man loved Greek art so much that he had Parthenon statues transferred to Britain, where they revived an interest for Greek culture. And now, America is the heart of the west, the great power. So Olympus lives on in New York."

"That sounds rather far-fetched," Malfoy said skeptically. "What proof so you have for this?"

"None but my own memories and experiences. I can only hope that you believe it.

"Perhaps you'll believe me if I apply the gods directly to your heritage. Let me ask you a question, Mr. Malfoy. Where does magic originate from?"

Malfoy frowned. "That's a controversial topic. Nobody really knows where magic comes from. Some believe that we simply came into the world like this, a separate race from normal humans. Others think that somewhere along the way, a gene mutated as a part of evolution."

"I didn't even know that there were discussions about this," Percy put in.

"Of course you wouldn't," Malfoy sneered.

"Hey! Just because my mother's a squib doesn't make me a lesser wizard than you," Percy objected.

"I'm sure it doesn't," Malfoy said sarcastically.

"I believe that there is legend that a goddess of magic blessed a favored group of mortals, which led to the beginnings of magic, correct?" Chiron cut in before the fight could escalate.

"Yes, but that's just a children's story, a myth. There is no proof that a goddess of magic exists."

"Well, that 'children's story' is in fact, real. The goddess of magic that created what we know as wizards, is the Greek goddess Hecate. Eventually, the blessed mortals reproduced and the magical community began to grow. Lady Hecate took personal pride in the community she helped start and invoked her blessing on others to continue the success of the wizarding world. Purebloods are the descendants of the blessed, while muggleborns are the children Hecate blessed."

"Hmm . . . does that mean muggleborns are essentially more powerful than purebloods as their magic is more direct?" Percy asked, curious. Beside him, he could see Malfoy rise up in anger, but Chiron interrupted.

"Actually, the amount of magic a person carries has little to do with their strength. The potency of a wizard depends on his capability. A wizard may be born of exceptionally strong magic, and only awaken half of his potential, making only an average wizard. On the other hand, a wizard may be born of lesser magic, but still use his power to the maximum potential, making him extraordinary. It is the person who determines how they use their magic, as well as their work ethic."

"Lies!" Malfoy snarled. "Purebloods are superior to muggleborns through their lineage of old magicks."

"Well obviously, that's not true," Percy pointed out. "Hermione beats you consistently in Transfiguration and Charms, does she not? And Crabbe and Goyle aren't exactly the model example of powerful wizards, are they?"

"That's just a fluke," Malfoy dismissed after a moment's hesitation.

"You just don't want to believe it," Percy retorted.

"That's not true," Malfoy shot back. "Granger's just a know-it-all. She has no real talent for magic."

"Then why is it that you can't learn a spell as quickly as she does, huh?"

"Silence! Are you two incapable of keeping the peace for a single minute?" Chiron snapped. "Percy, you should know better than to provoke another person. And Mr. Malfoy, kindly keep your beliefs to yourself. Getting back to the matter at hand, we need to explain your involvement in the current situation.

"Mr. Malfoy, to protect our campers from the monsters, a magical border is set up around camp, ensuring that the only ones who can get through is the gods and their descendants, as well as any others that have been given permission. It does not allow the magical folk to come through either."

"So? What's your point?" Malfoy asked impatiently.

"Wizards must have permission to come through the border," Chiron repeated. "Since no campers or gods have given you permission to enter the camp, that leaves one conclusion.

"You are a demigod."

Silence.

Malfoy stumbled back in shock. "No, this can't be," he whispered to himself, "I'm a pureblood." Suddenly, Malfoy seemed to have an influx of confidence as he repeated, "I'm a pureblood. I have tapestries proving my lineage. My father is Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black. I am not a filthy half-breed," he growled, his voice growing. "And gods are not real!" Lightning crackled.

Chiron looked at the Slytherin with sad mournful eyes, shaking his head silently. "I've dealt with Christians and Atheists many times before in my lifetime who've reacted the same way as you. It would cause you far less pain if you simply accepted who you are. There is no point in denial."

"You're just a fraud. This is nothing more than a bunch of little magic tricks and mere coincidences," Malfoy snarled, stomping out the door.

Percy inhaled deeply, pinched the bridge of his nose, then exhaled. "I'm sorry, Chiron. I'm going to try to talk some sense into him."

Chiron nodded. "Careful not to push him to fast though. It is essential that he learns to accept his identity by himself, and when he does, he must prepare himself for the outside world. He may have his magic, but he must learn to defend himself without it."

"Got it, Chiron," he said, before walking out the door. He turned his head around to look for Malfoy, but there was the wizarding demigod wasn't in sight.

"Hey!" Percy called, flagging down the camper closest to the Big House. The person spun around in surprise, not expecting the son of Poseidon. "Eric," Percy said, praying to the gods that that was his name (Percy didn't exactly have the best memory, okay?). He mentally breathed in relief when the guy just raised his eyebrow. "Um, have you seen guy with blond hair and gray eyes come out of the Big House?"

"Er, you mean a son of Athena? They're supposed to be training right now."

"No, he's actually a new camper. Undetermined." But now that Percy actually thought about it, Malfoy did fit the criteria for a child of Athena. Blond hair and gray eyes? Check. And he was sorted into the house of cunning and ambition, which was typical of one of Athena's (although Malfoy usually acted rashly and without thinking). Huh. He actually could be Athena's son—which also meant he was Annabeth's half-brother. Somehow, he couldn't reconcile Annabeth with Malfoy. They were polar opposites.

"Anyways," Percy said, ridding himself of previous thoughts. "He was probably storming out of the Big House, kinda angry—well, really angry. He might have been muttering to himself, glaring at people, yelling obscenities, stuff like that. Remember him? It's kind of necessary for me to find him."

"Are you sure you want to find him?" Eric said under his breath, but tapped his chin in thought. "Oh! I remember now. There was this blond guy, but I didn't quite see his eyes. He was making this huge racket, shooting daggers at anyone who looked at him. He was heading towards the woods—outside the border, mind you—so I tried to stop him. Except he just shot me a stare that promised death, muttered, 'filthy muggle,' or something like that, so I left him alone."

"Thanks!" Percy shouted over his shoulder, already jogging towards the woods.

This was not good. Malfoy was ignorant of the Greek monsters that roamed around camp. And he had no experience fighting them. Percy had no idea if magic worked against Greek monsters, but he didn't want to find out.

"Dang it, Malfoy. Where the heck are you?" As if on cue, a piercing scream rang out. "Di Immortales," Percy cursed, running towards the commotion. "Already got yourself in trouble?"

Charging into a clearing with Riptide uncapped (Percy was tempted to let loose an epic battle cry), Percy took in the scene before him: Malfoy was shooting spells left and right, spells that evidently had no effect against his opponent, a hellhound. Malfoy was desperately trying to dodge the monster's ferocious attacks and deadly claws without avail.

Frankly, at this point in time, one hellhound was really just a nuisance. With a few slashes and jabs, some rolling and evading, Percy managed to off the monster in a few minutes.

"I hope this is the first time you've used underage magic," Percy commented as he brushed the golden dust off his shoulders. "I know it's a life or death situation, but I'd rather not explain this situation to a court of wizards."

Malfoy's eyes were round as drachmas as they surveyed over Percy in shock, ignoring his previous statement. "I-I what-what just—"

Percy rolled his eyes. "I killed a monster with my sword. It exploded. Kaboom. Now do you believe in Greek gods?"

"Of-Of course not!" Malfoy spluttered. "Just because you killed a monster doesn't mean Greek gods are real. I bet you could find one in the wizarding world."

"Give it up, Malfoy. That monster I killed is known as a hellhound. It is Greek. You can't find it in any magical book. You could not harm or damage it directly with wizarding magic because it is Greek. It can only be killed by weapons like mine," Percy said, gesturing to Riptide. "This sword is made of Celestial Bronze, wielded by the gods and their descendants. It is Greek," Percy emphasized, once again.

"Now do you believe that Greek gods are real?"

Malfoy paused. "No," he said finally. Regardless of Malfoy's continued persistence on his stance toward the gods, Percy was making progress. This time Malfoy had wavered before answering, and instead of firm conviction, his voice was filled with uncertainty and hesitance.

Percy sighed. "Fine. Have it your way." Capping Riptide, he looked over his shoulder as he took in Malfoy's shock as his sword transformed into a pen. "Honestly Malfoy, this is hardly the first time you've seen a magical artifact. But," he added. "this sword happens to have a Greek blessing."

Percy frowned as he just noticed a dark red blooming around one of Malfoy's sleeves. "Hey, are you okay?" Percy asked, concerned. Walking closer, he inspected his right arm, ignoring Malfoy's attempts to pull it away. "You're injured. Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Despite asking the question, Percy already knew the answer. Malfoy's pride wouldn't let him accept help from an enemy. Fishing a slightly squashed lemon square from his pocket, Percy instructed him to eat it.

Percy groaned when he saw Malfoy eye the ambrosia with obvious suspicion. "It's ambrosia, the food of the gods. It'll help heal your wound. Just eat it."

Despite his reluctance, Malfoy took a small bite of it, his eyes widening at the taste.

"How does it taste?" Percy asked curiously.

"What do you mean? Haven't you eaten this before?" Malfoy asked, confused.

Percy shook his head. "No, the taste is different for everyone. It's usually some kind of pleasant food that has some kind of special meaning to you. For me, it's the blue chocolate chips my mother makes for me."

"It tastes like Christmas dinner," Malfoy admitted. "It's the one time of the year that we eat as a family. Mother would always spend the whole day in the kitchen preparing huge meals, instead of letting the house elves cook. It's the only time I ever see my father laugh or smile. We actually feel like a family for once," Malfoy smiled wistfully.

"We don't do it as much anymore, but—" Malfoy stopped suddenly. "It's like not you'd actually care, Jackson," he said shortly, a cold look overtaking his face.

Percy smiled. Although it was short, it was the first time he could see Malfoy's true self. Despite all his arrogance and pompous attitude, Draco Malfoy was just a vulnerable boy who wanted to have a family who cared for him.

"Come on," Percy gestured, walking out of the woods. "Let's get you to the infirmary."

"What for? You've already given me this . . . ambrosia," Malfoy said distastefully, as he forced himself to acknowledge the miracle medicine that was given to him.

"It's better to be safe than sorry. Besides, ambrosia doesn't always heal everything. And I can't give you any more either."

"Why not? If it works so well, why not just give me more?"

"Ambrosia is the food of the goods. With mortal blood running through our veins, there's only so much we can take in. A normal person would incinerate instantly if it touched their lips. As demigods, we can only consume a tiny amount before we explode into ashes and dust."

Malfoy looked at him in horror. "What if you gave me too much then? What would happen to me? Were you trying to kill me?"

"Don't be silly," Percy said irritably. "I know what I'm doing. I've done this for years. I've taken in more ambrosia in one go then you just ate. You're fine. You don't feel like burning up, do you?"

They walked in silence for a while before Malfoy spoke up. "You know, just because I was healed by ambrosia, which you claim to be the gods' food, does not mean that I believe in Greek gods. It could just as easily be—"

"Magic. I know, I know," Percy snapped, a little touchy. He was getting tired of Malfoy's constant denials despite the evidence he was shown, tired that Malfoy kept putting it off to magic. His pride and stubbornness refused to permit him to accept anything that was not within his narrow little mind frame. "Will you just be quiet for one second?"''

The entire way to the infirmary, Malfoy's behavior struck Percy as a little odd. He was being astonishingly quiet. Percy honestly hadn't expected Malfoy to listen to him. If they were at Hogwarts, Malfoy would immediately respond with something like, "Oh, I'm sorry, am I bothering you?", "Why should I? It's not like you're my father. Wait, you don't have one, do you Jackson?", or give him some kind of insult accompanied with a sneer. His first near death experience must have shook him up more than Percy thought.

By the time he finished introducing Will as a son of Apollo (Malfoy didn't comment on this surprisingly), and receiving a check-up (cleared by Dr. Solace), it was already dinnertime.

Hearing the conch shell blow, Percy led him towards the dining pavilion. Normally, an unclaimed camper would sit with the Hermes Cabin, but looking at the overcrowded table, Percy decided to take pity on him. Besides, he didn't fancy sticking a pureblood wizard in the midst of muggle-raised demigods, especially if that wizard was Draco Malfoy.

"Come on," Percy sighed. "You can sit with me. You are hungry, aren't you?" Seeing Malfoy's reluctant nod, he gestured him over to Poseidon's table. When Malfoy sat down, whispers and mumbles immediately began to float through the air.

"No way—another kid of Poseidon?"

"I can't believe Poseidon broke the pact again . . ."

"Old Zeus is going to be mad . . ."

"He doesn't look like one though, more of Athena's with his blond hair and gray eyes . . ."

Percy glared at any who dared to look at them, causing campers to avert their eyes. Malfoy frowned. "Why are they making such a big deal?"

"I'll tell you why," a new voice interrupted. "The Big Three, who are known as Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades, made a pact to never have any mortal children again. The Great Prophecy declared that one of their children would bring the downfall of Olympus or save it once they turn sixteen. Percy's already a forbidden child ("Thanks for reminding me," Percy muttered). For Poseidon to break the pact once again, that's some serious consequences right there. That's why they're looking at you weirdly. Because you're sitting at the table for Poseidon's children. Do you understand?"

Percy twisted his head around, a grateful smile appearing on his face. "Annabeth! Am I so glad to see you here."

"Who's this, Seaweed Brain? Is what they're saying true?"

"This is Draco Malfoy, Annabeth. Malfoy, this is Annabeth Chase, the head counselor of Cabin Six, daughter of Athena. And no, Annabeth. He's actually undetermined."

"Then why is he sitting here?" Annabeth asked. "You know it's against the rules."

"If it's against the rules, then you shouldn't be here either," Percy pointed out.

Annabeth smiled wryly. "But it's not like you care anyway, right?"

"I suppose so. It's kind of lonely by myself. I haven't had time to introduce him to Cabin Eleven yet, and looking at their table compared to mine, well, why not? Besides, he goes to my school, so I feel like he's my responsibility."

"I am not your responsibility, Jackson," Malfoy snarled.

Annabeth raised an eyebrow at his tone. "You're British, Draco? I've always wondered what your school was like, and Percy never told me much. So, who's your godly parent? Mom or Dad?"

"My parents are normal," Malfoy spat. "I've known both of my parents my whole life and Greek gods are not real. And do not address me with such familiarity."

"Did I mention he's a disbeliever?" Percy added.

"Hmm . . . has he been introduced to Mr. D?"

"Yep."

"And he still doesn't believe?" Annabeth asked, incredulous.

"Yep. He claims it was an illusion, like a trick of magic or something." Percy glared at Malfoy, as if daring him to contradict his story. Thankfully, Malfoy did have enough common sense not to break the Statute of Secrecy.

"Really? Most people start to believe after seeing the camp director's godliness."

"Are you sure we're talking about the same camp director here?" Percy questioned, thinking back to Mr. D's pudgy figure, leopard print shirt, gambling and gaming obsession. Yeah, he wasn't the best example of an all-powerful, civilization-demolishing, fearful Greek god.

"True, he isn't really what you'd expect of a god," Annabeth conceded. "But most people at least start believing once they see him summon a can of Diet Coke."

"Nope. Thunder's boomed, can of Diet Coke summoned, appearance of hellhound, and even seeing my awesome magic pen that can turn into a sword and slay monsters still hasn't convinced him."

"Interesting," Annabeth mused. "No matter. I'm sure that as time passes on, you will accept the existence of the Greek world, Malfoy."

Malfoy scoffed. "I doubt it. There's nothing in the world will make me believe in Greek mythology."

"Is that so?" Annabeth's eyes gleamed with a hidden light, and Percy knew that she had taken on the challenge. Percy groaned. No one could stop Annabeth when she set her mind to something.

"Well, I'll be taking my leave now. I suppose you'll be hungry." As if on cue, his stomach started growling. Percy blushed as Annabeth let out a laugh. "I'll see you at the campfire." Percy's eyes followed her as she rejoined her table, who was immediately bombarded with inquisitions about the new camper. He grinned as Annabeth waved off their questions with a smile, telling them to go find out themselves.

"You like her."

Percy spun his head around, startled. "What?"

"You like her," Malfoy stated, matter-of-fact.

"Of course I like her, she's my best friend."

Malfoy shook his head in frustration. "Are you that dense? I mean, you're in love with her."

Percy gaped at him for a while before chuckling nervously. "That's not true. She's just a friend. Nothing more than a platonic relationship."

"Don't be stupid, Jackson. I've seen the way you look at her, the way you smile when she—"

"How about some brisket?" Percy interrupted an oddly false smile on his face. He snatched the nearest platter from a wood nymph and began lauding its contents onto the plate. "Did you know that this delicious food is made by wood nymphs, creatures of Greek mythology? And that these strawberries are grown by our very own children of Dionysus and Demeter?"

Grabbing his goblet, Percy continued with the same fake smile. "And these are enchanted by Greek magic. They fill up with any liquid upon your request that's nonalcoholic. For example, Blue Cherry Coke." At this rate, Percy felt like he'd have future as a spokesperson in an ad for all things Greek.

Malfoy looked at Percy warily. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing, Jackson." Filling his goblet with pumpkin juice, he picked up his fork to start eating.

"Wait, not yet," Percy said, stopping Malfoy. "We have a tradition around here to sacrifice a portion of our food to the gods before we eat. They like the smell of burnt food."

Malfoy sneered. "And you want me to throw away perfectly good food for some gods I don't even believe in?"

Percy sighed. He knew it was futile to convince the pureblood (well, half-blood) otherwise. "Suit yourself."

Scrapping half of his plate into the fire—much more than usual, Percy gave his father the usual greeting along with a plea to whichever god/goddess that was Malfoy's parent. Hopefully he or she (hey, Percy was all about gender equality) would claim him soon. He didn't know how much patience he had left in him to deal with Malfoy.

After a stilted dinner, Chiron thumped his hoof on the ground for attention. Mr. D cleared his throat. "Well, I suppose it's my duty to inform you brats that we have a new camper among us. Drake Mallory, stand up."

Malfoy gritted his teeth. "It's Draco Malfoy, and I am not another camp—"

"Yes, yes," Mr. D cut off. "Save the pleasantries for later, Mallory. Off you brats go."

Malfoy's eye twitched, his hand creeping closer towards his wand. Percy glanced at him, amused. He didn't think anybody had ever gotten on Malfoy's nerves like this before. The god of wine just had the special ability to annoy people like that.

"Put away your wand, Malfoy. We're still surrounded by muggles," Percy whispered. "Come on. Let's go to the campfire."

"Campfire?"

Percy was tempted to laugh at the look of pure confusion on Malfoy's face. "It's a muggle tradition. We sit around in a circle around a fire, singing songs, sharing stories, and eating dessert."

Now Malfoy looked revolted. "There is no way I'm going to interact with these muggles like a friend," he said, nearly shuddering at the last word. "And I do not sing."

"Well, you do today," Percy said, grabbing his arm and dragging him down on a log next to him. Joining in a round of "This Land is Minos's Land," Percy tried to get Malfoy to sing along with no success. He continued to sit there with a stoic face.

Giving up, Percy ignored the Slytherin and joined back into the festivities until Chiron stood up for an announcement.

"Campers! Our next Capture the Flag game will be the week after! Canoe races will be held—"

Demigods stared at Chiron in confusion, wondering why the centaur had stopped. Whispers arose as people looked around for the reason before someone shouted and pointed towards Percy.

Percy looked at the camper, puzzled. Why would he be the cause of Chiron's termination? Percy looked down at himself, checking if there was any embarrassing stains of food on his shirt. Nope. Pimple on his face? Percy reached up to touch his forehead. Nope. Humiliating hairstyle? Nope.

Percy continued to check himself in confusion until he realized that it wasn't him that was attracting everybody's attention. Rather, it was Draco Malfoy.

Of course it was.

Percy stared at the shimmery gray owl above Malfoy's head. It had a stern, unforgiving look in its eyes that Percy swore was focused on him. Inside the right talon was a small, gleaming, silver coin.

Chiron looked warily at the sign above Malfoy, before announcing, "Hail! Draco Malfoy, son of Min—Athena, goddess of wisdom, war, strategy, the arts and literature."

Percy knelt as all the campers did, honoring the claiming of a demigod. However, this claiming seemed a little . . . unusual, without a better word to describe it. For the first time, Percy heard Chiron stutter, and even sound unsure. Not to mention the sign was a little unusual itself. It had been the normal owl, yes, but the little, silver coin wasn't normal. He had witnessed another child of Athena being claimed, but there was no coin. Judging by the whispers, he wasn't the only one who had noticed it.

"What do you mean, son of Athena?" Malfoy asked, his voice several octaves higher than usual. Whipping his head around, he stared at the campers frantically, looking for somebody to shout out, "Just kidding!" He staggered back. "No," he whispered. "This can't be happening! I am not a child of some made-up Greek goddess!"

Thunder boomed.

The campers, up from their knees, looked at the newly claimed demigod uneasily. Chiron took charge of the situation. "I'm sure Mr. Malfoy is just in shock. After all, this is rather a lot to take in for a new camper. I suggest everyone retire for the night."

Pushing his way through the crowd of Athena children trying to congratulate their new brother, Percy quietly told Malfoy, "You can't deny your situation any longer, Malfoy. Sooner or later you'll have to accept your heritage. It's the only way to survive."


Percy knocked on the door of the Athena Cabin until someone opened the door.

"Percy?" Malcolm asked, surprised. "I'll get Annabeth for you—"

"Actually," Percy interrupted. "I'm here to talk to Draco Malfoy."

"Really? What business do you have with him?"

Percy raised an eyebrow, noticing the incredulous and slightly negative tone on the word, him. "Is there a problem?"

Malcolm hesitated. "No . . . it's just his attitude," he ground out in frustration. "He doesn't talk to us, and if he does, he speaks as if we are lower than us. And every word that comes out of his mouth denounces the gods. It's starting to grate on everyone's nerves!'"

Percy winced. "That's what I thought. I wanted to see how he was coping. With the way his parents raised him . . . well, it's not going to be easy for him to accept his mother."

Malcolm grunted. "You're right about that." He sighed. "Alright, I'll get him for you. I wish you the best of luck."

Withing moments, a disgruntled Draco Malfoy showed up. "What is it, Jackson?" he grumbled.

"Can we take this somewhere else?"

Malfoy eyed him warily. "Fine," he said, letting Percy lead the way. "But you better not be trying to convince me to believe this fairy tale," he added.

"That's exactly what I wanted to talk to you about," Percy growled once they were a safe distance away. "I don't understand why you don't believe this. You've seen all the evidence for yourself. How do you explain the monster, Mr. D, the claiming, and just everything?"

"I told you. It's just magic."

"How? How can it be magic?" Percy demanded. "Nobody here knows a thing about wizarding magic. Everyone here has some kind of ability. The Demeter Cabin has the ability to influence plant growth, and your own cabin is known for their intelligence." Which obviously hasn't been passed down to you, Percy thought.

"That's just a talent."

"And the Demeter Cabin? How can they do what they can wandlessly, yet not be able to cast a single spell?"

Malfoy spluttered.

"That's right, you don't know. Get it through your head, Malfoy. Greek. Gods. Are. Real," he punctuated each word. "I'll help you get home, but you have to accept your parentage and learn how to survive. Next time, you might find yourself facing another monster, and I won't be there to help you."


"What is it?" Percy said groggily, opening the door at the rapid knocking. Draco Malfoy stood before him, hands in his pockets, looking unsure of himself.

Percy was surprised. He hadn't seen Malfoy in what, two weeks since the fight? Of course, he had been getting reports from Annabeth. Despite her goal to convince Malfoy to believe in gods, even the great, almighty Annabeth was giving up.

"He refuses to work with the rest of us because we're apparently 'beneath his notice'," Annabeth had quoted. "He refuses to acknowledge any of us because he cannot possibly be related to us, mere plebeians. And at every opportunity, he insults the gods! He claims they are mere children's stories for fools like ourselves. That we ought to be ashamed for believing in such outlandish tales! He drives me mad!" Annabeth exclaimed, frustrated.

Percy gave her an awkward pat on the back. "I'm sure he'll come around sometime," Percy comforted, although he doubted it himself.

"What do you want Malfoy?" he asked. "I've sent an owl to the American Ministry already. They haven't replied yet."

Malfoy looked like he was steeling himself against something painful. He took in a deep breath before speaking. "That's not what I wanted to talk to you about. I have a favor to ask from you."

Percy raised an eyebrow at him. "Is that so?" Percy was tempted to deny Malfoy for all the trouble he caused him these past years, but after taking in the uncharacteristic look of nervousness along with the willingness to swallow his pride made Percy take pity on him."Come in before the harpies discover you."

Closing the door behind him, Percy asked, "Now, what was it that you wanted?"

Malfoy swallowed before starting out hesitantly. "The campers look up to you. They respect you. Why?"

Percy tilted his head in thought. He had never really noticed how the campers treated him. To be honest, he didn't even care what they thought about him. "Hmm . . . good question. I've never really thought about it. I suppose that my status as a son of Poseidon, son of one of the Big Three, had a hand in it, but I'd like to think it's because of what I've done."

"What do you mean, what you've done?"

"Maybe it's the quests I've completed, but maybe it's the way I treat people. Because of who I am, there's always been this thin barrier separating me and the others. Despite this, I still try to be friendly with anybody I meet, and attempt to help them when needed. You have to earn the respect of others here. Why did you ask anyways?"

"Nobody likes me. I don't believe in the Greek gods, but can you blame me? I am a pureblood, not some bastard son of an illicit affair between Greek goddess and a wizard. And I still don't, not without meeting them myself. But you still saved me from a monster and all I could wonder is, 'Why?' We're enemies. At Hogwarts, I've took every chance I could to insult you and your family. I've seen the campers' respect for you. Nobody's ever looked at me like that before, not even the Slytherins. They only pay attention to me because of my father.

"I want you to train me. To teach me to be the kind of person that people will be respected."

Percy contemplated Malfoy's request before sticking out his hand. Nice to meet you. I'm Perseus Jackson, but my friends call me Percy."

Malfoy looked at his hand as if it was a foreign object (which it might as well be), gripping his hand cautiously. "Draco Malfoy . . . Percy . . . but you may refer to me as Draco."

Percy looked at Malfoy—no, Draco, he corrected—and smiled. "I look forward to working with you, Draco."


"Percy!"

Percy looked up, startled.

"What?"

"You started daydreaming, Jackson. Severus is here."

Percy glanced towards the right of Draco, meeting the dark, onyx eyes of Severus Snape. Waving his hand to towards two chairs that suddenly appeared, he asked, "Why don't you two sit down first? You know," he added, "I still can't believe that you're a legacy," gesturing to Severus.

"Still feeling wounded, Jackson?" Severus smirked.

"Why couldn't you tell me who I was?" Percy grumbled. "You're just like your great-great uncle, or whatever relation you have to Nico. Are all descendants of Hades—or Pluto—like this?" he complained.

"I could have told you, but where's the fun in that? I'd rather see you suffer for all the trouble you've caused me for the last five years."

Frank and Hazel brought Percy to meet Snape in his little run down apothecary, in hopes that he would have some kind of cure to bring back his memories. Instead, all Percy received was a look of shock, some kind of sludge, and a vague sense of familiarity upon seeing the dark haired man. When questioned, he hesitated before introducing himself as a fourth generation legacy of Pluto. Percy had remarked that it was ironic that the descendant of Death created medicine that saved lives rather than took them. Percy, without any memories of Hogwarts, did not remember his biting potions professor, had called him Severus as custom of America, and it stuck, never minding the teacher's horror.

"You're mean, Severus," he said, emphasizing the name.

Severus growled. "How many times do I have to tell you not to refer to me by my given name?"

"What's the big deal?" Percy smirked. "Or would you rather me call you Sev?"

"I'm aware that you two have the mentality of little children," Draco cut in, "But mind telling us the plan your oh so brilliant mind came up with?"

Percy shot him a look before scratching his head sheepishly. "Heh heh heh . . . I don't really have a plan yet, you see."

"What? You mean you called us here without a plan?" Draco snapped irritably.

"Well, actually, I thought we should discuss possibilities and the current situation. After that I thought we could form a plan."

Draco hmphed. "Just like you to be unprepared."

Percy ignored Draco's comment in favor of Severus. "You're in Voldemort's Inner Circle, right?"

"Correct. However, I am not entirely trusted with all of Dark Lord's plans. I'm sure there are some that suspect my loyalties belong to Dumbledore," Severus admitted, pursing his lips.

Percy tapped his chin. "That could be a problem . . . does Voldemort know either of your true identities?" It was a valid concern. Percy recalled the portkey incident with the Triwizard Cup and Voldemort hinting towards his demigod heritage.

"I don't think he knows about mine," Draco said. "I've told Father and Narcissa that the faulty portkey landed me near a magical summer camp. They believe that the camp offered me an invitation and that I go there every summer to further develop my magical skills."

It wasn't entirely a lie, Percy supposed. Camp Half-Blood was rather magical, although its magic derived from the supernatural powers of the gods. And Draco had been invited to camp to train for the demigod side of his life.

"And I didn't go last year because of the, you know, the whole Dark-Lord-living-inside-your-house-and-being-angry-at-your-family thing. He's questioned me, but I don't believe that I revealed anything incriminating, and I seriously doubt that my parents would mention the camp to him."

Severus frowned. "I am not entirely positive. However, he has never inquired anything about my heritage past my mother and father," he said, sneering at the last word.

Percy scrunched his eyebrows together in thought. "Then how does he know about my heritage then?"

Severus tilted his head. "I honestly do not know. Perhaps another Death Eater has godly blood and seen fit to inform him?" he suggested.

"Possibly," Percy acquiesced. "But there has not been a Greek demigod that has visited the camp after reaching adulthood in years."

"Then perhaps the son or daughter of one?"

"Again, possible. But I cannot see a loyal Death Eater allowing his children to lower themselves to mingle with muggles. Or the child wanting to stay among those with no wizarding blood." Percy shook his head. "No matter. We'll settle this issue later. For now, we'll discuss our plans and options.

"Our first order of business to establish a way of communicating. We should agree on a time to meet. I think we can all agree that this is the best place to meet?" Percy looked around. "I have no obligations. When do you two have a free night?"

"I have a staff meeting every Saturday night and and Wednesday night. My night patrol shifts are from midnight to three on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Not to mention that I normally give detentions on a Saturday night."

"I only have Quidditch practice on Friday."

"Then Sunday night it is. The time?"

"I believe that the current meeting time is fine," Severus answered. "My colleagues and your house mates should be retiring by now, although perhaps we should set a slightly later time just in case?"

"That's fine. One then?"

"That'll work for me," Draco said, "but how will we contact each other? I doubt we can wait for the weekly meeting if an emergency occurs."

"Actually," Percy smirked, "I've already prepared for that possibility." Handing out a silver sickle to each of them, he explained, "These sickles are charmed to heat up slightly to signal that the meeting time has changed or another meeting has been designated. The date and time is shown where the year is minted. You can modify it by tapping your wand and saying the day and time you wish for it to change to."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "This seems awfully similar to the galleons Miss Granger magicked for the secret DA meetings last year."

Percy shrugged. "That's where I got the idea from." Looking around at their unimpressed looks, Percy protested, "Hey! They're a good idea! Nobody will notice them either."

Silence.

"Fine." Percy grumbled. "Do either of you have a better idea?"

"Detentions."

"Huh?" Percy asked, confused.

"It's simple. I'm known for hating Gryffindors and being harsh on them, especially if their name is Harry Potter. Since you're in the cohorts with him, it won't be out of character for me to assign a detention to you. We can meet up on your assigned detention date. It's also known that I favor Draco Malfoy, and since I'm the head of his house, it won't be too suspicious if I talk to him or consults me in regards to a problem."

Percy started at Severus. "That actually sounds smart," he grudgingly admitted. "But does that mean I went through all this trouble for nothing? All the trouble to research the Protean Charm, figure out how to cast the charm, actually attempt to cast the charm, try out the coins—"

Draco interrupted. "Alright, we get it Jackson. No need to act so bitter just because your idea was shot down."

Percy spluttered. "What? That's not it! It's just that I spent hours trying to enchant these things and—"

Draco rolled his eyes. "If it helps you sleep at night, we'll use those sickles. But only in cases where we absolutely need them."

"Yeah because that makes me feel so much better," Percy said sarcastically.

"Does it really matter what method we use?" Severus cut in. "Both work perfectly fine."

"You were the one who suggested another method," Percy pointed out.

"I was merely recommending an alternative. As Draco pointed out, we can use my method and yours when mine is not available."

"But why do we need to use both methods?"

Severus rubbed his temple. "We've spent enough time on this. We should move on to other things."

Percy looked at him skeptically but nonetheless moved on. "Alright. What should we do for our course of action?"

"I don't believe we have enough information to decide on a plan yet. I propose that we gather more information first."

"It sounds like a plan to me. But first, we need to address Draco's problem." Percy turned toward Draco, as did Severus. "How do you plan to fulfill Voldemort's mission? You do know that you can't actually kill Dumbledore, right? That would create a huge drop in morality for the Light."

"Of course I know that!" Draco snapped. "But I can't exactly just ignore his orders!"

"Well then, what do you plan to do?"

"Before you say anything," Severus cut in, "We—well, at least me— promise that we will try to support you in what you plan to do."

"I know that. You made a promise to my mother—my stepmother—that you would try to help didn't you?"

"I did."

"But it's more than that, isn't it?" Draco pressed on.

Severus pursed his lips. "Those details are unnecessary for you to know."

"But shouldn't I know them? After all, this is my mission."

"Those details do not pertain to you."

Draco dropped the subject. "I don't really know what I'll do. I suppose that I might make some attempts. But I'll try to make sure that they will be thwarted. I'll also warn both of you, so you can make sure that the assassination attempt isn't actually carried out."

Percy noted that Severus looked like he wanted to comment on something, but was holding back his words. "Is there anything you wanted to say?"

"No. I was just contemplating our choices."

Percy had the feeling that wasn't really what Severus was thinking, but he let it slide anyways. He figured that he would reveal his secret when the time came.

"Well then, I think we're done here. Severus, just report back the information and plans that you gain from both the Order and the Death Eaters. You too, Draco. I'll keep an eye out on Harry and the others. Is that alright?"

Looking at the nods of acquiescence, Percy walked towards the door, "Well, I'm tired . . . I'm going to bed now. I had a long trip here. Swimming across the Atlantic Ocean is really tiring, you know?" Taking in the dumbfounded looks before him, Percy let out a laugh. "Relax. I'm just joking. I took a portkey."

"You joker," Draco grumbled before playfully smacking him on the head.

Carefully trying not to make any sounds as he snuck into the 6th years' dorm rooms, Percy quietly changed into pajamas and got under the covers.

Percy never noticed the glowing green eyes that were watching him.