THIRD POV

The two weeks that followed went by normally, or as normally as they could in a training camp for the half-blood children of the gods. The shadow-travel incident was soon forgotten, though at first Nico's thoughts would constantly wander to that same question. Who sent him there, and what even was the point?

His days were spent doing ordinary stuff, like teaming up with either the Poseidon Cabin or the Zeus Cabin for a game of Capture The Flag. Other times would be spent trying to ignore the constant disturbances created by the Stoll brothers, and on a couple occasions, when he was feeling particularly charitable, saving poor unsuspecting delivery guys. The majority of his time was spent doing camp activities, which would often be interrupted by an impromptu visit from Will Solace. Though he would never admit that those didn't bother him as much as he pretended it did.

NICO'S POV

It was around eleven in the morning and I was dead tired. Despite the fact that we have the camp's barrier in place, plus a dragon keeping watch, we still maintain a constant guard. Tonight, or rather last night, had been my shift. I was covering for Lou Ellen, who'd had been put out of commission due to a rock-wall prank gone wrong. Again. So there went most of my night. Again. I'm sorry, do I sound bitter?

Stifling a yawn, I stumbled through the near ritualistic actions of clumsily sliding into a standard camp t-shirt, something I would never wear in public, and flannel pajama pants. I hoped to catch at least an hour of sleep, before breakfast was called and I was forced to deal with the rest of the world yet again. I was just settling into bed and drifting off when I realized.

Percy had headed home, determined to get through high school with grades high enough to get him into college with Annabeth. That meant that someone had to care for Mrs. O' Leary. Don't get me wrong, I love that mutt, but I need sleep. With a heavy sigh, I rolled out of bed, tugging my aviator jacket over myself as I went. I grabbed my ring, more out of the instinct that anything. See, I can't exactly carry a Stygian sword around, it attracts even more attention that a normal sword would. So most of the time I keep it compacted within the ring, bringing it out when needed. It doesn't reappear on my fingers like other weapons do. It's my job to keep track of it, on the other hand, it responds to my emotions. I don't have to tell it to morph into sword mode, it does so based on what I feel, unless directed otherwise. This can an advantage or a disadvantage. Stygian Iron is different then than Celestial Bronze and Imperial Gold. It is from the river and designed to pierce not just the flesh, the soul as well. In a way, it could be said the metal is alive, it feeds on energy. So it sucks the light, the warmth, positive emotions, and souls because their the most powerful form of energy there is. It dominates the shadows because if there's one thing the magicians got right is the aspect of the—

Sorry, ADHD moment. Sometimes it sucks to get so easily distracted.

I retrieved Mrs. O' Leary's meal and set about to the hard part. Actually feeding her. Mrs. O' Leary eagerly jumped around me, licking me and giving impatient howls. I know, this sounds like normal behavior, given that she's dog. So why does it bother me? Recall that Mrs. O' Leary isn't just a dog. She's a Hellhound. I dare you to not be the slightest bit unnerved by a mastiff, easily the size of tank, with blood-red eyes, and barks louder than artillery guns. She's a sweetheart, though. I scraped the last of the raw beef into the large metal doggy bowl and stepped back. In accordance to my fantastic luck, I somehow stumbled as I jumped back and got snagged by one of her claws as she bee-lined towards the dead cow.

I didn't scream. Sure, it hurt but I could take a little pain.

Instead I looked down at myself, trying to peer at my back to see how bad the claw mark was, a bit fearful of how it must look. I was covered in Hellhound slobber, my blood, and the blood of Mrs. O' Leary's dinner. Oh and the back of my jacket, my favorite jacket, had just been customized by an over-sized puppy to have an open back, perfect for the healthy breeze.

-Shit!

Now I had to go to the infirmary covered in blood and monster-saliva. It would rile up all the the Apollo kids on duty. Ever since since Solace had taken an interest in me, they all felt the need to either coddle me a bit, or glare at me when he wasn't around. And the gods forbid that the guy himself be there, then I would really catch it.

I gave Mrs. O' Leary my death glare deluxe, silently cursing her to Tartarus as I gathered the shadows and willed them to take me to the infirmary, gently.

It's proof of my miserable existence that they didn't listen. Have you ever been on a plane? If so then you know that moment of turbulence where the plane shakes an it like something (How'ya doing, Uncle Zeus?), is trying to knock it down. Imagine that, ten times worse and without a plane. Yeah, that's almost close to what I felt as the shadows threw me around.

I finally landed, only to blinded by a red flash before I could even make out my surroundings.

The first time I came to, my back was really doing me in. Someone had had the bright idea of tying me down to a chair and it was aiding matters. I hadn't been in this much pain in a long time. My head pounded, and the room was spinning. I had to grit my teeth to keep from groaning, and it took A LOT to take me down like this.

I could hear people shuffling around me, some of them whispering to each other, in what I was sure was British accent. So maybe I was somewhere in Europe?

"He's waking up!"

"He shouldn't be up already, we just tied him down!"

"Reckon he'll talk?"

"He looks like he is in pain", a woman's voice added, sounding surprisingly worried. Truth be told, it was the kindest voice I had heard so far. Despite how much I disliked her words, I couldn't help but soften at her tone, "And he is decked with blood, that poor boy",

It wasn't that obvious I was in pain, though, was it?

"Is that saliva?", a guys voice said. It sounded like a teenager.

I finally opened my eyes and took a brief overlook of the place. It looked like a kitchen. A very gloomy kitchen in the colors of green, black and silver. Somehow it actually looked slightly familiar.

I got a brief flashback of my mother laughing with her elder brother, Alphard in the very same room. I hadn't thought about Uncle Alphie in a long time. In all honesty, I barely remembered the guy, the last time I saw him was a week before everything went to Hades and my mom got blown up.

Slowly shaking my head, I turned my attention to the people surrounding me. Weirdly enough, they held wooden sticks in their hands, pointing them at me as if they were weapons. One, a gruff, creepy man with a wooden leg and a glass eye, glared at me like I was the devils spawn. The thought made the corners of my mouth twitch in a smile, which I quickly forced into a glare.

"Well, if its not a problem, could you tell us your name, my boy", asked an old man with long, silver hair and beard. He look like a Gandalf wannabe, though an insane version. He was dressed in obscenely bright pink and purple robes. And I'm pretty sure it was adorned with glittery yellow stars. On his head rested a dark blue hat, like the kind wizards were in silly kid movies.

I then realized that I've been spending to much time time with my cousins, when the first thought that came to mind was the had didn't match.

"I'm not your boy."

Which was followed by a horrified look as I look down and begged the question, "What kind of sick joke is this?", eyeing his high-heeled, red shoes.

Everyone looked confused, except two identical, red-haired boys with freckles and mischievous eyes. They had seen me eyeing the old mans shoes and had visible trouble not laughing. Two other red heads stood behind and at a second glance around the room I realized there was a whole pack of red-heads.

The old man peered over his glasses, and sternly told me this was not a joke.

"Right," I responded, "because all humans wander around looking like clown cast-offs." Leaning back in the chair, ignoring the protesting pain in my back at the action, I continued "When I think about it, only madmen, criminals and monsters kidnap random boys, so which one are you?"

"Now listen here, boy—", the gruff man with the glass eye began, but was cut of by Mr. Crazy-Old-Silver-Beard, "Enough, Alastor." He turned his attention to me, and I could've sworn his eyes were twinkling, "My dear boy, you were the one who broke inside of our headquarters and we only wish to know how it is you accomplished such a feat."

Glare in place, I remained silent as I went through my options. Stupidly enough, I decided to take the Percy Jackson-Express out of this situation.

"Listen here, old man, I was just feeding my idiot cousin's monster dog, but the damn thing got my back with it's claws—",

The red haired woman from before clutched her chest and got misty eyes. "His back is hurt, and here we tied him to a chair!"

At least some of the people had the decency to shift their feet or look away, guiltily. The pause reminded me that these people might be muggles, or at the very least not aware of the existence of demigods, so I amended the rest of my tirade, hoping they would forget any earlier screw-ups.

"So I was going to get help, but then I appeared here and got hit with a red light. Now you crazy people are pointing sticks at me and yelling about your "headquarters", which by the way looks like somebodies kitchen," I added trying to sound like a clueless mortal. "Not to mention the flashbacks," I mumbled under my breath.

But of course, with my luck, someone had caught what I said.

"What do you mean, getting weird flashbacks, have you been here before?", a shabby looking man with straw-coloured hair asked.

I scowled at him and he took a step back.

"Not any of yours business."

"You are in our headqua"-, the glass eyed man, Alastor, got cut off again.

"Now, now, Alastor. You can at least tell us your name my boy!", the old madman tried again.

"I'm not your boy," I repeated. "And I already told you something, it's your turn to share."

Alastor looked like he was about to start arguing again, but the old man held out his hand, like I was somehow supposed to shake it despite being tied up. "You are in England, my name is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore", I looked pointedly at the rope wrapped tightly around me and he smiled apologetically before pointing out individuals of the group and naming them.

"Alastor Moody, or MadEye Moody."

"Nymphadora Tonks"

"Don't call me Nymphadora!", a woman with pink hair and a heart-shaped face.

"Remus Lupin," the shabby guy with the monster-like hearing.

"William Weasley"

"Just Bill, called out one of the red-heads behind the twins, he had long hair and a tooth-earring.

"Charles Weasley"

"Charlie", the other guy behind the twins, he was built like a pro wrestler and had scars all over his face.

"Fred and George Weasley" the twins who looked like they could give Connor and Travis a run for their money.

"Molly and Arthur Weasley," the plump red haired woman and the red haired man beside her.

"Ginny Weasley and Fleur Delacour," a red haired girl and an abnormally beautiful girl with blonde hair.

"Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter", finally, the last red-head, a frizzy haired girl and a skinny teenager with messy, black hair and a lightning bolt scar, which had a soul attached to it...

I'll admit, that threw me off. How in Tartarus did someone manage to get another's soul attached to their forehead?

"Sirius Black",the last to be named, a black-haired man who looked at me like I was puzzle that he was so close to solving but he couldn't figure out. Considering who I am, it kind of worried me. Still, not even that was enough to stop me from snorting.

"Your name is Serious Black? Seriously", I snickered. Though the name Black, rang a bell. Wasn't that Uncle Alphie's last name...

You could have heard pin drop, the room was so quiet as they waited for a further response.

"Your name, boy", Mad-Eye Moody said threateningly.

"Nicolas Levesque," I finally responded. Disappointing as it might be, it was the best I could come up with on such a short notice.

Thinking about how I would get myself out of this one, I decided, As much as I loved Mrs. O'Leary, Percy was going to have to find someone else to take care of the "little" ingrate.

Hey, guys. Hope you enjoyed the chapter and sorry for the wait, but I'm a slow updater. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews. they push me to work faster.

Now in terms of facts, I know that Alphard Black was born around 1924 and Nico in 1925. This would make Nico older than Alphard by an year, but for the sake of the story, I've decided to ignore this and pretend that Alphard was born a couple years before Maria Di Angelo. I hope you guys don't mind, but it is fanfiction afer all.

Please review and follow!