I've been looking for these, but I can't find many good ones. :( I decided to write one myself, don't judge or do because I haven't written in a LONGGGG time. It's honestly so confusing right now, so mb.

So, yuh, I'm gonna be doing random stuff with this, and I'm gonna make unnecessary comments wherever. :)

Percy really, really, really doesn't want to take a glance into the looming future. His fingers twirl nervously inside of his pockets.

He shivers as a wisp of cool air washes overhead, the breeze of the sea fighting his thoughts. The boy has only just received his invitation letter a few months ago, one that he still can't fathom.

Percy sniffs, rubbing his nose. He swings his legs over the pier and sighs. The whole magic part of the letter has blown him away. Many sleepless nights follow, controlled by the unknown and maybe even the known. Or what he knows at this point—which isn't much. The rocky shores of Cove—not too far from Siccar Point—splash against the waves. It's a roaring sound that he can enjoy or listen to all night, or both.

He decides that's enough wistful thinking for one night. He pushes himself onto his feet, skipping back into the safety of his home. The corridors are dark, the rooms filled with noisy waves and the quiet whisper of the wind.

Percy strolls into his room, or the portion of his room, careful not to wake his mother. She has already gone to sleep, peacefully. His eleventh birthday has only been 11 days ago. He's on a fresh start, determined to move his mother out from their dusty bungalow into a charming villa down in whatever his friend said—Money co? Somewhere in France where he can eat all the food he wants and not beans for breakfast.

Percy's careful to tuck himself in, the sleeplessness of the sea lulling him away from reality.

The next morning, he jumps out of bed. His mum is already in the kitchen—he races to the dining table. The sweet smell of stove-cooked eggs wafts into his nose—Percy sighs appreciatively. (my fault idk what they're eating in Britain right now)

"Percy!" She scolds as he tries to scoop up an egg with his hands. "Remember to use your manners in school as well."

His mother's name is Sally, her silver-lined hair is swept back into a ponytail. Her eyes are stern but loving, they always melt whenever she glances into Percy's sea green eyes. She can't fathom that anyone in the world would try to hurt her son, but she hasn't been in the absolute greatest state after he received his invitation either.

"My teacher said only cavemen do that," Percy says earnestly, removing the yolk from the egg. "Yuck."

Sally puts her hands on her hips, giving him a knowing look. Percy slowly puts the yolk back into the egg.

"Is all your luggage ready? She takes a glance at the watch. "It's almost time for you to go."

Percy nods, his food still in his mouth. His mother taught him not to speak when he's chewing.

"You have all of your materials? Your wand? Your books? Your owl?"

Percy nods again, more vigorously. "Yes, mum, I have everything."

The ride is relatively slow, Percy's nervousness and jitters won't stop getting the better of him. He itches to move, but the traffic just won't abide by his thoughts and prayers. Mrs. O'Leary squawks—Sally flinches. Percy comforts the bird, cooing.

The mountainsides of England are bare, the hills are unexciting, and the weather always seems drab wherever they drive to. London rolls up a few hours later, the sheer size of the capital city's population—the people and cars ultimately create horrible headaches, Sally tells Percy. He ultimately ends up reading over the letter that Mrs. O'Leary has sent him that one fateful night. The night that changes everything.

Finally, the cab rolls into Kings Cross Station, Percy hops out, accompanied by Sally. His luggage is placed in a trolley. He pushes it along, repeating the instructions from the letter. "Platform 9¾," he whispers.

Percy is stopped by a tug to his collar, turning back he sees Sally smiling. The station is bustling, people commuting to and from. Her eyes are soft, and her smile is tense. This will be the longest that she will leave Percy. She knows that it is for his own good, and that she has tried to keep him with her for as long as possible. She can't bear to see him witness an entire new world without her support, her earnest assistance.

"Mum, I love you. I'll write to you whenever I can, I'll write about all of my adventures. Anything I know about, you'll know about." He promises resolutely. With that, he takes a deep breath, the world around him seems to stop as he puts his trust in a few letters from a torn page parched with ink and he runs into the wall.

He has never seen this portion of Kings Cross Station before, not on the television, not in images, or anywhere. It is thronging with students of similar size and age, but also some not so. They all don adorned clothing, excited for the upcoming year.

Percy remembers that he has to move out of the way and onto a train car, he is struck with awe as he makes his way to his designated car. So much so that he doesn't notice the lanky blonde boy waiting in line in front of him. He practically runs him over with his trolley before he pulls back with a startled yelp.

"I'm so sorry!" He helps pick up his books, apologizing profusely. "I don't see you. I really don't mean to run into you!"

The boy shakes it off, Percy catches a glance at his startling blue eyes. "You're alright. I should have been watching behind me."

Percy laughs, "I'm Percy Jackson, I'm kind of new, so I'm just—you know—completely confounded."

"Hey, no worries," the boy chuckles. He turns back to the car doors and begins loading. Percy helps him with his suitcase full of robes. "I'm Jason, by the way. I'm a year one as well. My sister already goes here, so I know my way around a bit."

"Awesome!" Percy exclaims. "That means you can show me the ropes so I don't look completely dumb."

This time Jason guffaws, "Yeah, I'll be trying to do that. I have no guarantees for you."

Once Jason is done, he aids Percy in his loading. Percy finds that he likes to talk with Jason, he learns much about Hogwarts after only a few minutes of purposeful conversation. Percy wanders the corridors that Jason has already searched.

He has to focus among the clamoring, or else his mind gets lost. He spots Jason weaving in and out of the aisle towards him.

"I found a spot," Jason says, breathless. "There's an entire compartment!"

"We better hurry."

Percy finds the new compartment to be rather dainty, especially since it was sat right next to a beautiful blonde girl surrounded by her friends, all seemingly trying to impress her.

"That's Annabeth Chase," Jason tells him earnestly, "She's like—the poster child for Hogwarts now. She plays amateur quidditch and has been for like three years."

Percy just stares for a moment before sliding into Jason's compartment languidly.

"What's quidditch?" He finally asks as the train begins their final boarding calls.

"It's a kind of sport for wizards and witches. There's a large oval pitch and three goals that you have to score in—" Jason explains the intricacies of quidditch as another two boys slide into their compartment, out of breath. They had arrived at the last call and had barely been able to board.

"So," the shorter of the two began. "That was absolutely mental."

Jason laughs in agreement, "Absolutely."

And from there it's effortless chemistry.