A/N:

So, if I remember it correctly, Hecate sided withKronos in the books. Here, she had another angle. She also wanted to oppose the Olympians but wanted to end with her reigning supreme. It's been more than ten years since I've read both books, so bear with me. Also, I know the time between both worlds don't match up, which is why, for the convenience of this fic, I won't be mentioning the year. Also, because I don't think this would be very long and killing myself to make things make sense doesn't seem necessary for what might pass as a crack-fic. Anyways, thanks for reading, I hope I didn't disappoint.

1. Wooden Sticks vs Flying Swords

Zeus watched as the son of Hermes nonchalantly strutted towards the middle of the Throne Room where he stood with a smug expression. A large part of him still wouldn't love nothing more than to blast the boy into dust.

If it weren't for the boy redeeming himself when he brought forth an invaluable warning, he would have probably ended his centuries-long feud with his brother just to ensure that the traitorous bastard was greeted with a rather unique experience in the Underworld after he shrouding him with a tiny thunderstorm.

For now, the boy must be left untouched. Luke Castellan was clever enough to strike a deal with the gods that would prevent them from making any moves to kill him. That was unless he moved to defy them again. Hermes, of course, was still fair game, but he also handled all of Zeus's mail so he too was safe to a certain extent.

"Speak," Zeus demanded, his tone indifferent.

Luke Castellan cleared his throat before speaking. The mental practice he performed while still in the elevator was ineffective. He still felt the urge to send Backbiter through Zeus's skull. It would have been worth dying, he thought.

"We lost," Luke said. "... pathetically."

Zeus briefly closed his eyes as he took a deep breath. He opened them again to respond. "Explain how we lost... pathetically."

Luke rolled his eyes. "Well, we went at them, they almost wiped us out, and we retreated... Therefore, losing pathetically."

Zeus's glare resembled a cop whose interrogation was leading to nothing. Luke didn't budge though, the Oath he had them make giving him full confidence.

Zeus: "So, the mounds of Aetherium Steel and Celestial Bronze we had delivered to you for the use of the forge... It was all for nothing then?"

Luke wasn't sure if he should even dignify that remark with a response. But he had to say something to maintain his role as a messenger, which was already demeaning as it was.

He cleared his throat again. "Well, most of us would be more comfortable being armed when we go to war. So, I wouldn't say it was for nothing..."

He decided against bring up the fact that Celestial Bronze was useless in battle against their enemies. At this point, he thought, Zeus was asking for sarcasm.

Seeing the uneasiness between the two, Apollo decided to be the mediator for the sakes of communication.

"Why don't you tell us exactly what happened, Luke. A play-by-play as you kids call it, I think."

Luke nodded. "We got to their castle and started firing immediately, using the catapults first, obviously. And then the flaming balls of metal came flying back right at us, so we stopped firing and decided to charge through them. Then, they shot red laser beams at us and swords went flying everywhere... The laser beams and the flying swords were majority of the battle before we ran away."

"I see," Apollo replied. "... What is a laser beam, if you don't mind me asking?"

Zeus tuned out the exchange between the half-scum and his most incompetent son. He was currently thinking about how much power Hecate had given these mortals and also why Hermes couldn't just make another son. Or choose another for that matter, he had thousands.

This was only the first battle on wizarding territory and he already felt inclined to come down and fight himself. Although, he knew that would play right into Hecate's hands.

The battle against the Greeks was disappointing at the most. The fools charged at them with medeival weapons.

The audacity!

It made him feel like an idiot for even considering to side with the half-wits up in Olympus. Although, it was a comfort knowing he wasn't on the losing side. Especially since he couldn't switch sides now, being binded to an Unbreakable Vow that ensured his safety while in temporary alliance with Dumbledore and his followers.

The two of them sat in Dumbledore's office. Fudge was filling out a crossword puzzle in the corner. The nimwitted Minister thought his presence to be vital in their meetings and wanted to be included. They let him stay but under a Confundus that kept him from speaking out of turn.

"That was-..."

"Terrible," Dumbledore interrupted. "Needless bloodshed that could have been avoided through a proper conversation."

Voldemort sneered. "Proper conversation? What's proper is going straight to Olympus ourselves and ending this war immediately!"

"Don't be silly, Tom."

"I've told you never to call me that, Dumbledore!"

"The gods in Olympus have much more power than their offspring which could range up to unimaginable heights," he continued.

"Well, yes," Voldemort digressed, not actually understanding the depths of Dumbledore's claim. "For instance, none of their men had those lead-spraying firearms they were famous for. They clearly must be saving it for later."

"Guns, you mean."

"Whatever it is they call them," he spat.

"You know what they're called."

Voldemort took a deep breath, debating if he should bite into Dumbledore's bait.

"Don't think for one second that I'd hesitate to march up to Olympus myself and kill every one of those so-called gods just so I can come back and kill you next."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Well, Mount Olympus is located in the sky, where their leader holds supreme power, so I'd hope you would at least bring some of us to assist you."

Voldemort glanced at him and saw his amused expression. "I was only joking, I'm not an idiot..."

It occurred to him that he should start learning about who their enemies actually were for he had absolutely no idea what Dumbledore was going on about. All he knew was someone other than him was trying to take over Magical Britain and had enough followers to do so. He simply couldn't let that be, even if it meant having to side with Dumbledore for the meantime. Other than that, he wanted to kill the fool that thought they could steal the glory he's been moving towards for fifty years now.

"You know what would help," Voldemort started. "If that batty, old witch didn't lock herself in the basement and actually help us fight."

"Why, I'm sure Lady Hecate has her reasons for her isolation. And I'm sure she'll be there when we need her."

"Well, I'm sure if we simply hand her off to the Greeks then it would end this war and we could continue with ours."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Perhaps."

Side note: Clearly, some deaths in the book didn't happen in this fic. Fred is alive for anyone who's wondering. Short opening chapter, I know. But let me know what you think. I might be keeping the format that's basically each side's meeting regarding the war. Or I could go a different direction. Let me know.