Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I'm not Rick Riordan or J. K. Rowling, no matter how many times you check, and I don't own anything related to them or their works.

A/N: Wow, thanks so much for the reviews! I'm shocked people actually like this. Well, without any farther ado, I present the first chapter.

Chapter One

"Thank you for telling me this, Harry," Dumbledore said, looking very grave. He sat back in his chair and frowned pensively, gazing at the whirring objects that filled his office. "I will look into it at once."

"Professor," Harry said. "Do you think his grandson is – is like him?" He imagined the Tom Riddle who had appeared from the diary horcrux and in Slughorn's memory. He had been charming and handsome, winning the trust of the entire school even as he murdered a girl and experimented with the Dark Arts. How would they know if Percy was guilty if he, like his grandfather, could so effectively fool almost everyone? What would happen to the wizarding world with the appearance of a second Voldemort?

"We should not judge him for what his ancestors have done," Dumbledore said seriously. "Do you believe it right that the entire world thought Sirius as guilty as the rest of his family?"

"No! Of course not!" Harry exclaimed. "But – but it's Voldemort." He pictured Voldemort placing a grandfatherly hand on the shoulder of a handsome cold-eyed boy and shuddered.

"I ask you to withhold your prejudices until we find out more about him, Harry," Dumbledore said. "That being said, I am quite astute at locating the truth. No one is an impeccable actor, and sooner or later, the mask becomes dislodged."

How could Dumbledore act so nonchalant about this as if finding out about a cheating student? This was Voldemort's grandson they were talking about. But with Dumbledore gazing at him, waiting for his reply, Harry bit back his frustration and nodded. "Yes, Professor."

"Harry, listen to me. Do not pursue this matter. I will look into it myself. Until I determine the facts, please focus on your studies and keep this to yourself. Do not – I repeat – do not tell anyone."

"Yes, Professor," Harry said again.

Of course he told Ron and Hermione. How could he not?

"You're joking!" Ron exclaimed.

"Keep it down!" Harry whispered, looking around the library for Madam Prince, who miraculously seemed not to have heard.

Lowering his voice, Ron continued, "That's crazy. Who would want to marry You-Know-Who?"

"Not all children are born out of wedlock, Ron," Hermione said. "But Harry, you shouldn't have told us. If Dumbledore told you not to – "

"I think you have a right to know," Harry said honestly. "You've been through as much as I have."

Hermione looked torn.

"Come on, Hermione, what could we do once we find out?" Ron said. He laughed. "It's not as if we know where he lives."

Harry coughed.

"Coming down with a cold, mate?"

"No, Ron! He's obviously trying to tell us that he knows Percy's location!" Hermione said. "Oh, I hope you told Dumbledore that!"

"Of course I did, Hermione!" Harry said, stung.

Hermione looked relieved. "Well, we don't have anything to worry about then. Dumbledore will figure things out."

Harry shook his head and looked over at Ron. "If his grandson isn't evil, then he's in immediate danger. And if he is evil, I need to stop him."

Ron paled, but he summoned up a brave laugh. "If you're going, I'll go. What's a little more danger in our lives?"

"Why?" Hermione demanded. "Dumbledore can take care of it better than we can!"

"He's the headmaster. He can't just leave whenever he feels like it. Remember the last time that happened? The Philosopher's stone incident, that's what. And winter break is starting in two days, so we'd only be missing a couple days of classes. I have to go, Hermione."

Hermione bit her lip. "Oh, all right," she sighed. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but you actually have good reasons. Where does he live?"

"New York City. America."

She stood up. "I'll research the best way to get there," she said. "When do we leave?"

Harry smiled nervously, the reality of what he was suggesting finally reaching him. "As soon as we can."

Percy, apparently, could never catch a break. Even in the grocery store.

"Are you Percy Jackson?" one of the three men decked in black robes asked. Two of them were built like walls. The other one was thin and aristocratic, with long, flowing white-blond hair.

"Um...no. My name's Peter, actually. Peter Johnson," Percy said. He didn't think it was a good idea to give out his real name to them. Call it a gut feeling, but there was something he didn't like about them. Maybe it was the fact that they were literally wearing ankle-length dresses. Maybe it was the fact that they were glaring at him threateningly. Or maybe it was the fact that they looked like the evil servants from his dream, and they were brandishing the same torture stick the snake man had held.

"Oh. Wrong person," the same man said.

"You idiot! He's obviously lying!" the one with nice hair snapped. He pointed the stick at Percy, who dropped the basket of groceries he was holding and bolted before any torture magic came at him.

"Come back!" one of the walls shouted.

"No thank you!" Percy yelled back. He ducked into the canned goods aisle and risked a glance backwards. Both Wall A and Wall B had turned the corner and followed him into the aisle, but Nice Hair was no where in sight.

Percy uncapped Riptide and skidded to a stop. Surprised, the two men stopped as well and looked at each other in confusion. He took the opportunity to disarm them, which he succeeded astonishingly easily. For all their muscle, they apparently had no experience in hand-to-hand (or wand-to-sword) combat.

This is almost too easy, Percy thought suspiciously. He was right.

He stabbed one of them with his sword, expecting him to disintegrate into monster dust. Nothing happened. Riptide simply went through them almost as if they weren't monsters.

"You're humans," Percy said, eyes wide.

"We're wizards," one of them said, looking affronted.

"Dummy, we're humans too," the other said.

They didn't even seem to have noticed that his pen had turned into a sword.

Before Percy could question them further, the one with the flowing locks walked calmly into the canned goods aisle. "Ah. Crabbe, Goyle, splendid work. You've captured him. Apparate back. The Dark Lord shall be pleased."

One of the walls reached for him, but Percy backed up out of reach.

"What's going on?" he demanded. "What do you want from me?"

"I sincerely apologize for the rudeness. My name is Lucius Malfoy, and these two are Crabbe and Goyle. It doesn't matter which is which." Crabbe and/or Goyle grunted at that, and Lucius shot them an irritated look. "As I was saying, you are coming with us. Grab him, Crabbe."

"I don't think so," Percy said. As fast as he could, he snatched up the two sticks on the ground and backpedaled.

"Our wands!" Goyle (or Crabbe) exclaimed.

"Idiots," Lucius grumbled. "You let him take your wands?"

"He was too fast!"

"If you don't tell me what you want from me, I'll – I'll break these," Percy announced, hoping the wands were irreplaceable.

"Don't!" Crabbe and Goyle shouted in synchronized alarm, identical looks on their burly faces.

Lucius's face turned serious. "What do you want to know?" he asked.

Percy silently breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay, so you said you were wizards? What's that about?"

"What it is 'about' is that we are able to use magic. According to our intelligence, you are a wizard as well. Unfortunately, you are not a pureblood like the three of us, but you are the grandson of our lord, so we will make an exception and allow you into our ranks."

Percy blinked, first in confusion, then in disgust as something finally clicked for him. "That's nasty! Are you saying my grandfather is snake man?"

Crabbe and Goyle laughed, while Lucius's face tightened. "While I must admit his face bears resemblance to a snake's, I would advise you to call him 'Master' if you must address him at all. He is Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord."

The one who had tortured two people so easily and callously was his grandfather? Percy rubbed his face. He wasn't even surprised anymore, just mildly confused. He already had one evil grandfather (who he'd defeated and sent to Tartarus); really, with his luck, Percy should have expected another one. Which brought up a question: which side of the family was 'Voldemort' from? He'd have to ask his mom about it later.

His mom! Oh no, she was going to kill him.

"Yeah, um, nice meeting you two, but I need to go. Sorry!" Percy said, capping Riptide and making a break for it. Guests were coming over today, and his mom had told him to be at home to receive them. She was working and Paul was at some kind of teachers convention, so they weren't at home.

"Impedimenta!" Lucius shouted, but it missed and nothing happened. Not wanting to test his luck again, Percy ignored the looks of disapproving shoppers and raced out of the store as if hellhounds were at his heels (not literally, though; the "wizards" looked more like clumsy giant bats with their black flowing robes flapping behind them as they attempted to chase after him.)

He took the stairs two at a time, praying to the gods that he wasn't too late. His heart sank when he saw three people outside his door. They were already there.

"Hey!" he called.

They turned around. Percy didn't recognize any of them. They looked around his age. There were two boys, one skinny and bespectacled, the other red-haired and uncomfortable. The girl looked anxious. She had a similar know-it-all air that most children of Athena had.

"I'm so sorry," Percy said, trying to catch his breath after running the whole way back. "Were you waiting for long?"

"No," the girl said politely.

"Yes," the red-head said at the same time.

"Sorry," Percy said again, fishing out his keys from his pocket. "I was out getting groceries, but then I met these three guys, and...well, long story."

The boy with glasses wasn't listening. He was too busy staring at the two wands poking out of Percy's pocket. "You're a wizard?"

Percy froze. Then he narrowed his eyes. Clearly the three back at the grocery store hadn't been enough. "I guess you're all wizards also," he said. When was this going to end? How many lackeys did the snake-man (his grandfather, ew!) have?

"You're Percy Jackson, aren't you?" the boy said in a distinctly unfriendly tone of voice. "Voldemort's grandson."

Percy scowled at them, wondering how he was going to get out of this. They knew where he lived, and they weren't even monsters, so Riptide couldn't hurt them. "I'm not going anywhere with you. I've already met Crabbe, Goyle, and Lucius Malfoy, and they really won me over," he said sarcastically.

"I knew it!" the red-head exclaimed.

The boy with glasses whipped out a wand and aimed it at Percy. "Stupefy!" he shouted, but Percy dodged it. He looked around hurriedly for a weapon – he couldn't keep running forever; he wasn't the Duracell bunny – but the only thing he saw was a flower pot. He lunged for it anyway. A lame weapon was better than no weapon at all.

The red-head's shout of "Stupefy!" was the last thing Percy heard before everything faded to black.

A/N 2: Sorry for the cliff-hanger! I actually didn't notice this was one until my sister pointed it out, lol. I'm not sure when chapter two will be out, so to tide the wait over, I hereby give you permission to imagine Harry, Ron, and Hermione looking at each other after knocking Percy out like, "What do we do now?" and then Harry and Ron playing a round of rock, papers, scissors to determine who has to haul Percy's unconscious body away until Hermione points out that they could just use magic to levitate him. Then they bring Percy somewhere, tie him up to a chair, and Ron draws with a Sharpie on his face. He gives Percy whiskers, a goatee, a beard, and eyelashes, and after that he and Harry play games of Tic-Tac-Toe on Percy until he wakes up. Picture Percy trying and failing to act intimidating with Ron's beautiful doodles adorning his face. I hope you feel better now.