Chapter 2, done! Just an FYI, we have 1 vote for Percy/Fleur. Pairing still up for debate, so... yeah!

Thanks for all the reviews!

CHAPTER 2: LIGHTNING AND LIGHTNING SCARS

"Alright, I'll bite: where are we going?" Percy asked, his curiosity barely contained as he trailed behind Hecate. They walked briskly through the dimly lit streets of London, the city bustling with the familiar sounds of cars and chatter, though the world around him felt oddly out of sync. There was something about the 1990s that was both familiar and strange - like stepping into a photograph that wasn't his own.

Hecate didn't answer immediately, her cloak fluttering in the cool night breeze as she led him through a neighbourhood. Her steps were light, almost gliding across the cobblestone, and Percy struggled to keep pace.

After a few seconds, Hecate finally spoke. "We are going to a place where I can teach you without interruptions," she said. "Somewhere even the prying eyes of wizards won't reach."

Percy frowned. "Wizards? Are they really that much of a problem?"

Hecate stopped abruptly, turning to face him with a stern expression. "You are a demigod, Percy. But here, you are also something more. The scythe in your possession is a relic of immense power. Wizards can sense it, and trust me, there are many who would want such a weapon. And that's only the beginning of the dangers you'll face."

Percy glanced at Backbiter, still strapped to his back, the cold metal occasionally sending shivers through his spine. He hadn't had the chance to fully understand its significance, but he could feel the power in it, lurking just beneath the surface. "So... wizards are gunning for me now, too. Perfect."

"They are not all enemies," Hecate said, resuming her walk. "But you must be careful. The magical world is not as unified as it may seem."

They continued down the street until they came to an old, unassuming townhouse. It was sandwiched between two much taller buildings and looked like it hadn't been touched in decades. The windows were cracked, and the paint on the door was peeling. Percy could barely imagine it being a place of power.

"Here?" Percy asked, raising an eyebrow. "Not exactly what I pictured when you said we needed a 'base of operations.'"

Hecate ignored his comment and stepped up to the door. With a wave of her hand, the air around them shimmered, and the facade of the building melted away like an illusion. In its place stood a grand manor, gleaming under the moonlight, with tall, imposing windows and stone gargoyles perched on the roof.

Percy blinked. "Okay. I take it back."

"It's an old sanctuary, used by those who practiced magic long before the wizards' rules were established," Hecate explained as she pushed the door open. "Here, you'll be safe, and we can begin your training."

The interior was just as impressive as the exterior, with a grand hall filled with ancient books, arcane symbols etched into the stone floor, and a large fireplace crackling with green flames. It reminded Percy a little of Camp Half-Blood's Big House, but with a darker, more mysterious edge. He felt the hum of old magic all around him.

"So," Percy said, glancing around. "What's first? More sword training, or are you gonna teach me how to turn someone into a frog?"

Hecate chuckled softly, her eyes gleaming. "Patience, Percy. Your powers as a demigod are formidable, but magic is a different force entirely. It requires focus, discipline, and control - qualities you have yet to fully master."

Percy nodded. "So… are you going to explain this whole 'magic' thing to me?"

Hecate's expression shifted, becoming more serious as she prepared to explain. "Very well, Percy. You've asked how magic works here, in this world, and it's time you understood the basics."

She gestured towards the glowing sigil still floating in the air, and with another flick of her wrist, it transformed into a more complex diagram, filled with circles, lines, and runes that pulsed with energy. "Magic in this world, particularly among wizards and witches, is quite different from the magic you may have encountered in your time as a demigod," Hecate began. "Here, magic is less about the innate powers of an individual, like your control over water. Instead, it's deeply tied to tradition, study, and structure."

Percy frowned, trying to follow along. "So, wizards have to learn magic? They're not born with it?"

"Not exactly," Hecate said. "Wizards and witches are born with the potential for magic, but it's a raw, untamed force. Without proper guidance, their magic would remain dormant or spiral out of control. That's why, in this world, they attend schools like Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts?" Percy asked, raising an eyebrow. What kind of name was that?

Hecate nodded. "It's one of several magical schools, though it's by far the most well-known in this part of the world. Wizards and witches begin their formal training there around the age of eleven. They learn spells, potions, charms, transfiguration, and much more. Their magic is tied to their wands, which act as a focus for their power."

"So, they can't do magic without a wand?" Percy asked.

"Most can't," Hecate replied. "There are exceptions - powerful witches and wizards who can perform some magic without one, but for the vast majority, the wand is essential. It's not just a tool; it's an extension of their magical will."

Percy nodded, slowly understanding. "So, they spend years learning spells and stuff, and they get better at it over time?"

"Exactly. Magic here is methodical, structured. It's all about learning the right incantations, the proper wand movements, and understanding the magical theory behind it. Unlike your powers, which are instinctive, magic here has to be studied and practiced diligently."

Hecate's tone grew a bit more grave as she continued. "But there's a catch. This world of wizards and witches is governed by strict rules, regulations, and hierarchies. The Ministry of Magic is the governing body that oversees everything related to magic in the United Kingdom. They set the laws, regulate the use of magic, and keep wizards hidden from the non-magical population - what they call Muggles."

Percy snorted. "Muggles?"

"Yes," Hecate said with a small smile. "It's their term for non-magical people. The Ministry works tirelessly to keep the existence of magic a secret from them, going so far as to modify memories, erase evidence, and impose strict… penalties, you might say, for those who break the rules."

"So, if I just go around summoning storms in the middle of London…" Percy began.

"You'll attract a lot of unwanted attention," Hecate finished for him. "And the Ministry does not take kindly to rogue magic users. Especially not ones who don't fit into their tidy little categories of wizard or witch."

Percy folded his arms, taking it all in. "So where do I fit into all of this? I mean, I'm not exactly a wizard."

"No, you're not," Hecate said, her eyes gleaming with an unspoken understanding. "You're something far older, far more ancient than the magic they wield. But that's why we're here, Percy. The world of wizards and witches is just a small corner of a much larger magical world. And as we train, you'll learn to navigate both your world and theirs."

He nodded.

"And just as a note, these magic users are… very judgmental of where you came from. They expect people to have 'pure blood', as they put it," Hecate continued, her tone turning serious. "This nonsense means they believe that only those from magical families have the right to wield magic. It's a ridiculous notion, really, but it permeates their society. Those without a magical lineage are often looked down upon, no matter how powerful they might be."

Percy held back a grin. "Alright. Witches and wizards are very real, and very powerful. They're also very racist."

"If you could stop being sarcastic for just a moment, Percy," Hecate said, raising an eyebrow. "You're going to have to learn before you pick up a wand. Potions, runes, transfiguration, curses, charms - the works!"

Percy sighed. "Right. My favorite."

Hecate gestured for him to sit by the fire. "But before even that, we need to unlock the potential that lies within you. You are the son of Poseidon, the Stormbringer, the Earthshaker, and yet you've only tapped into a fraction of your true power. Magic will help you access your father's other aspects."

Percy settled into a chair, the weight of Hecate's words sinking in. The idea of unlocking new abilities stirred something within him, an eagerness that overshadowed his wariness of magic.

"So what's first?" he asked again.

Hecate stood in front of him, raising her hands. The air around her began to swirl, and Percy could feel the faint pull of energy. "First," she said, "you will learn to draw upon the very essence of the elements. Water is familiar to you, but the storm - the lightning, the wind - those are also within your grasp. You just don't know how to reach for them yet."

Percy watched as she manipulated the air, forming it into a delicate sphere that crackled with tiny bolts of lightning. It hovered above her hand, alive with energy.

"Magic is about intention," she continued. "You cannot force it. You must let it flow through you, as you would with your powers of water."

Percy nodded, feeling the familiar tug in his gut, the pull of the sea. But this time, he didn't focus on the water. He closed his eyes and reached deeper, feeling for something else - something wilder.

At first, there was nothing, just the usual thrum of his powers. But then, faintly, he felt it - a flicker of energy, like static. It was different from the pull of the ocean, more volatile, more elusive. He reached for it, but it slipped through his grasp.

"Don't force it," Hecate instructed. "Let it come to you."

Percy took a deep breath, trying to calm his mind. He imagined the storm, the lightning flashing across a dark sky, the wind howling through the waves. Slowly, he felt the flicker return, stronger this time, and with it, a surge of power.

The air around him crackled, and Percy opened his eyes to see tiny sparks dancing at his fingertips. His heart raced, but he didn't pull back.

"Good," Hecate said, her voice steady. "Now, hold it. Feel the energy. It is yours to command."

Percy concentrated, feeling the raw power flowing through him. It was exhilarating, unlike anything he had ever felt before. The sparks at his fingertips grew brighter, more intense.

But just as quickly, the power slipped away, leaving him breathless and frustrated.

Hecate nodded, unfazed. "It will take time, Percy. But you are beginning to understand."

Percy wiped the sweat from his brow, feeling both exhausted and exhilarated. "So, how long until I'm turning wizards into frogs?"

Hecate smiled. "One step at a time. First, we master the lightning."

Percy leaned back in his chair, still feeling the faint tingle of energy in his fingers. The idea of mastering lightning sounded cool, but also kind of terrifying. Controlling water had always felt natural, like it was a part of him. But the storm? That was different. It was raw, unpredictable. And that scared him a little.

"So… how do I even practice this?" Percy asked, glancing at his hands as if he could summon another spark at will. "I mean, it's not like I can go out and summon a thunderstorm without causing a scene and getting arrested by a racist ministry, right?"

Hecate gave him an look. "Well obviously summoning a storm in the middle of London would attract the wrong kind of attention. The scythe you carry may be shielded here, but if you lose control, even this sanctuary cannot hide you. We must proceed carefully."

Percy exhaled sharply. "Great, so no pressure."

Hecate's lips curved into a small, mysterious smile. "No, there's always pressure. But we begin slowly. You must first learn to summon lightning in small bursts - focus on the spark, not the storm."

Percy thought back to the crackling energy he had felt moments before. It had been exhilarating but slippery, like trying to hold onto a fish in the ocean. Still, he wasn't one to back down from a challenge. "Alright," he said, rolling his shoulders. "Let's do this."

Hecate waved her hand, and the room around them shifted. The walls of the grand hall melted into shadows, and soon they were standing in what appeared to be a vast, stormy void. Lightning flashed in the distance, illuminating dark clouds and a swirling vortex above them. Percy's heart skipped a beat. It was like being in the eye of a storm, but he knew it was only an illusion.

"You'll need a conduit for the lightning," Hecate said. "Something to channel the energy through until you can control it on your own."

Percy frowned. "Like… my sword?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Too small, not… destructive enough. Hold out your scythe."

Percy hesitated for a second, not liking how she called it 'his scythe'. His hand instinctively going to the scythe strapped to his back. Backbiter. He wasn't entirely sure about this, but he knew better than to question Hecate. Slowly, he drew the weapon, feeling the cold, dark metal hum in his grip.

"You sure this is a good idea?" he asked, glancing at her warily. "I mean, this thing already feels like it's a bad day waiting to happen."

Hecate's gaze didn't waver. "The scythe is a powerful weapon. But more than that, it is tied to you now. If you're going to master lightning, you'll need to learn to channel your power through it."

Percy swallowed, then held the scythe out in front of him. It felt heavier than usual, as though it was responding to the stormy energy in the air. He could feel the pull of something deeper inside it, like the weapon itself had its own will, waiting for him to direct it.

"Focus on the tip of the blade," Hecate instructed, her voice calm but commanding. "Picture the energy flowing through you and into the scythe. The lightning is not your enemy, Percy. It is a force of nature, one that you, as the son of Poseidon, have the right to command. You are not just a demigod of water. Your father rules the storms, and so can you."

Percy closed his eyes, gripping the scythe tightly as he tried to follow her instructions. He imagined the storm, the dark clouds above, the crackle of thunder in the distance. He could feel the familiar pull of the ocean, but beyond that, there was something else - something wild, dangerous, and electric.

The air around him seemed to shift, a faint buzzing sound filling his ears. He could feel the power gathering in the scythe, and for a brief moment, it felt like the storm was at his fingertips. The metal of the blade began to glow faintly, a bluish light flickering along its edge.

Then, with a sudden surge of energy, a bolt of lightning shot from the tip of the scythe, arcing into the air and striking one of the distant clouds. The force of it nearly knocked Percy off his feet.1

"Whoa!" he gasped, stumbling backward as the scythe vibrated violently in his hands. The lightning crackled for a moment longer before dissipating into the void.

Hecate's eyes gleamed with approval. "Good. You're beginning to understand."

Percy steadied himself, his heart racing. "That… was insane. I actually did it."

"Yes," Hecate said, her tone more serious now. "But you also lost control at the last moment. The storm will not always be so forgiving. Next time, you might not be able to stop it."

"Right," Percy muttered, running a hand through his hair. "No big deal. Just gotta master the power of literal lightning."

"You are strong, Percy Jackson," Hecate said, her voice softening slightly. "But power without control is dangerous, both to you and those around you. The scythe amplifies your abilities, but it also heightens your emotions, your impulses. You must be careful not to let it consume you."

Percy looked down at the weapon in his hands. It still pulsed faintly with energy, almost like it was alive. He could feel the raw power within it, but he could also sense the danger Hecate spoke of. If he wasn't careful, it could easily spiral out of control.

"Got it," he said, nodding. "Don't let the cursed scythe kill me. Any chance you could… I don't know, make it a pen or something?"

"Hand it over."

"What?"
Hecate gestured towards the scythe. "Hand it over. I'll place a charm on it."
Percy reluctantly gave her the scythe. "What's a charm?"
"Oh, you're a lost cause." Hecate took the scythe from Percy's hands, her fingers barely brushing against the dark metal, and he could already feel a shift in the air around her. The scythe seemed to respond to her touch, the faint glow of energy around it dimming as if it was aware of her power.

"A charm," Hecate began, turning the scythe over in her hands, "is a spell of protection or transformation. It's a way to bind the energy within an object, or in this case, suppress it so it doesn't overwhelm its user."

"Suppress," Percy repeated, a little wary. "As in, stop it from frying me alive?"

"Exactly," Hecate said with a smirk. "This scythe was forged with the intent to destroy. But with the right spell, we can… temper its nature, make it more manageable."

Percy watched as Hecate began tracing her fingers along the length of the blade, whispering words in Greek. The air crackled with magic, a faint hum that echoed through the room. For a moment, the scythe's dark surface shimmered, like liquid shadows rippling under her touch.

Hecate's voice grew softer, the incantation drawing to a close, and with a final flick of her wrist, the scythe shimmered before shrinking into a smaller form. In its place was a simple, unassuming silver ring with a faint, swirling design etched into its surface.

Percy blinked. "Wait, you turned it into a ring?"

Hecate handed it back to him, her expression amused. "You said you wanted something less dangerous. A pen was out of the question, so I settled for something that won't accidentally electrocute you while you sleep."

Percy stared at the ring in his hand, still feeling the hum of power inside it. "And this is going to work? It's not going to, I don't know, grow back into a death scythe if I sneeze too hard?"

Hecate smiled faintly. "The charm will hold, as long as you don't actively try to summon its full power. The scythe is still within the ring - it hasn't lost any of its strength. But now, it will be more under your control. When the time comes, you'll be able to call upon it when needed. Much like your sword." At his surprised expression, she laughed. "Don't think I didn't know about that. Can't hide much magic from me."

Percy slipped the ring onto his finger, half expecting it to shock him, but it fit snugly, and the power within it seemed to quiet, almost like it was waiting for his command. "Thanks," he said, flexing his fingers. "That's… actually really cool."

Hecate raised an eyebrow. "Cool, indeed. But remember, Percy Jackson, this is not a toy. The scythe is still bound to its dark purpose. One wrong move, and it could still consume you. Although, it could steal your enemies souls, so that's a bonus I suppose."

"Got it," Percy said. "Only use the scythe in emergencies."

Hecate gave a satisfied nod. "Good. Now, get some rest. Tomorrow, we begin again. You've taken your first step, but mastering the storm will take far more than a simple charm."

Percy exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle in. The storm around them began to fade, the room shifting back to its original form - the grand hall with its ancient books and crackling fireplace.

"Yeah," Percy agreed. "Rest sounds good."

"How'd you even get the scythe?" Hecate asked.

Percy hesitated, the memory of the Underworld still fresh in his mind. He hadn't expected to explain it, not this soon, but Hecate's eyes were sharp, expectant, and there was no point in avoiding the truth.

"I, uh… I got it after the war," he began slowly. "From Kronos, I guess. Backbiter was his weapon, but when I fought him… well, the scythe ended up choosing me, I guess. You actually gave it to me."

"Of course I did! I'm a genius," then Hecate's expression darkened slightly, her lips pressed into a thin line. "The weapon of a Titan... choosing a demigod. That is not something to be taken lightly, Percy."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Percy muttered, rubbing his thumb over the smooth surface of the ring. "After we beat Kronos, the scythe didn't just disappear. It sort of… stuck with me. Like it had a mind of its own. I tried to get rid of it, but it always came back."

Hecate studied him for a moment, her eyes narrowing. "The scythe of Kronos is no ordinary weapon. It is a tool of time, death, and destruction. The fact that it chose you… there are deeper forces at play."

Percy swallowed. He hadn't thought of it that way before. The scythe had always felt like a burden, a reminder of the war and everything he'd lost. But hearing Hecate talk about it like this made it sound even more dangerous.

"So what does that mean?" he asked, his voice quieter now. "Am I… supposed to be using it for something? I mean, I didn't ask for this."

Hecate's gaze softened, though her expression remained serious. "It means the weapon is bound to your fate now, whether you want it or not. It has the power to shape worlds, Percy. But it can also consume those who are not careful. Kronos fell because he was consumed by his own ambition. You must make sure the same does not happen to you."

Percy nodded slowly, the weight of her words settling in. He'd faced gods, monsters, and Titans, but this felt different. More personal. And much harder to understand.

"Right," he said after a long pause. "No pressure."

Hecate's lips quirked into a brief smile. "No more than usual for a son of Poseidon."

Percy couldn't help but chuckle. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

"Get some rest, Percy," Hecate said, her tone softening. "Tomorrow will be another long day. And this time, we won't be focusing on your powers - I'll be teaching you magic."

"Cool!" Percy said. "You know, this place is cool and all, but where even are we?"

"Privet Drive," Hecate answered. "Pretty nice place, if I do say so myself."

Percy blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Wait, Privet Drive?" he repeated. "That sounds… oddly familiar."

Hecate gave him a knowing smile. "It should. You're not the only one with a significant destiny tied to this street. But don't worry - our business here has nothing to do with them. Yet."

Percy glanced around, as if suddenly aware of their surroundings in a new light. "Okay, so… magic lessons on Privet Drive. Got it. But why here?"

Hecate's gaze turned distant for a moment, as though she were weighing her answer. "There are certain places in this world that hold ancient magic—hidden, dormant, but still powerful. Privet Drive is one such place, though few realize it. It provides us a shield, a place where the magical energy runs deep but remains unnoticed by most."

"Unnoticed by most?" Percy asked, raising an eyebrow. "You mean like, wizards?"

Hecate nodded. "Precisely. Here, we can work without drawing unwanted attention. The scythe will remain hidden from prying eyes, and your training will be undisturbed. This street has seen its fair share of magical interference, but tonight, it belongs to us."

Percy's gaze drifted out towards the quiet neighborhood, its neat lawns and identical houses seemingly so mundane on the surface. But there was always more beneath the surface, wasn't there? And if there was one thing he'd learned over the years, it was to never underestimate the strange, the ordinary, or the hidden magic in the world.

He sighed, feeling the weight of the day settling in. "Alright, magic lessons on Privet Drive. Sounds like a plan."

Hecate's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Get some sleep, Percy. You'll need your strength."

"That's boring," Percy said. "I'm in London! I'm going to walk around."
"If you want," Hecate said. "Just don't be out late."
"You're not my mom." Percy muttered, opening the door.

"I'm your legal guardian, so I'm the closest thing you have."
Percy rolled his eyes as he walked out. This goddess really knew how to get on his nerves…

Percy stepped out onto the quiet street, the cool night air brushing against his face. The moon cast a soft glow over the identical houses of Privet Drive, their neat lawns and trimmed hedges giving the whole neighborhood an oddly eerie feeling in the silence. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, glancing up and down the street, unsure of where to go but feeling the need to stretch his legs.

"London at night," he muttered to himself. "This should be interesting."

As he walked, his thoughts drifted back to everything that had happened since he'd arrived. The scythe, the lightning, Hecate's cryptic warnings - it was a lot to process. It felt like every time he thought he had things under control, another layer of weirdness got added to his life.

First, learning he was a demigod. Then learning he was a child of the Big Three. After that was the Great Prophecy and the whole 'you will destroy or save the world' thing.

And now, here he was, wandering around a quiet London suburb in the middle of the night, with the weight of a powerful, world-altering weapon hanging on his finger in the form of a ring.

And wizards were real. That too.

He turned a corner, letting his mind wander as he passed the rows of dark houses. For a moment, everything seemed so normal - just a kid taking a walk in a quiet neighborhood. But the hum of the scythe's power, even in its dormant state, was a constant reminder that nothing was ever really normal for him.

As Percy turned the corner, ready for whatever strange encounter was waiting for him, he stopped in his tracks. There, at the far end of the street, he saw a group of boys gathered around a scrawny kid, pushing him back and forth between them. Their laughter echoed in the quiet night, cruel and sharp, as they shoved the kid around like a rag doll.

The boy being bullied looked younger than Percy, maybe around twelve, with messy black hair and round glasses that were askew on his face. But what really caught Percy's attention was the faint glint of a lightning-shaped scar on the kid's forehead, illuminated by the streetlight above them.

Percy frowned, the scene sparking something in him. Memories of being the odd one out, of feeling powerless, rushed to the surface. He hated bullies. Always had.

Always would, he resolved.

He clenched his fists, already feeling the energy within him stir. The scythe's power hummed quietly through the ring on his finger, but Percy didn't need it for this. He could handle a few schoolyard bullies just fine.

"Hey!" he called out, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size?"

The boys froze, their heads snapping in Percy's direction. For a moment, there was silence as they sized him up. Then the biggest one, clearly the leader, sneered.

"Who the hell are you?" the fat guy demanded, puffing up his chest like a peacock trying to look tough. "This has nothing to do with you. Go mind your own business."

Percy crossed his arms, unbothered by the bravado. "It does now. So how about you leave him alone?"

The leader scoffed, taking a step toward Percy. "You think you're tough? This is our street. Why don't you-"

Before he could finish, Percy moved. Faster than the boy could react, Percy grabbed him by the arm and twisted, sending him stumbling backward into the grass. He didn't need his much strength for this; just enough skill to show them who they were dealing with.

The other boys hesitated, glancing between their leader and Percy, unsure of what to do. But Percy's icy stare was enough to make them reconsider.

"Leave," Percy said, his voice low and dangerous.

The leader scrambled to his feet, glaring at Percy but clearly shaken. "You're gonna regret this," he spat, before turning to his gang. "Come on, let's go."

One by one, the boys backed off, casting nervous glances at Percy before disappearing down the street. Percy watched them go, his fists slowly unclenching as the tension drained from his body.

Once they were gone, he turned to the boy with the lightning scar, who was still sitting on the ground, looking both surprised and a little wary.

"You okay?" Percy asked, offering him a hand.

The boy hesitated for a moment, then took Percy's hand and got to his feet. Up close, Percy noticed how thin and small he was, like he hadn't had a proper meal in a while. His clothes hung loosely on him, and his glasses were taped together, barely holding up.

"Thanks," the boy mumbled, pushing his glasses back into place. "They, uh, do that a lot."

Percy frowned. "They shouldn't. Who are they?"

"My… cousin's friends. They don't exactly like me."

The boy had a sorry excuse for a cousin, then. "You've got a name?"

"Harry," the boy replied quietly, glancing up at Percy. "Harry Potter."

For a moment, Percy blinked. The name sounded… important. He didn't know how, he just knew.

"Nice to meet you, Harry," Percy said, his voice softening. "I'm Percy. Wanna come back to my place?"
Harry nodded.

Percy clasped his hand, and as he did, he could have sworn he heard the Fates laughing.

THE BOY WHO DIED

"For Olympus' sake!" Hecate whisper-shouted. "Ten minutes! I let you out for ten minutes, and you bring me him?"

Harry was currently in the shower, Hecate and Percy were talking, and she was not happy Percy had brought him here.

"Whoa," Percy said. "He's just a dude. A dude who was getting bullied before I helped."

Hecate narrowed her eyes at Percy, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "That 'dude,' is not just anyone. Do you have any idea who he is?"

Percy blinked, feeling the weight of her gaze. "Uh, Harry? I mean, he's just a kid. I didn't exactly get his life story in the ten minutes we've been talking."

Hecate sighed, clearly frustrated but trying to stay calm. "Harry Potter is no ordinary boy, Percy. His name carries a lot of weight in this world."

Percy raised an eyebrow. "Okay, so he's got a scar and some bullies after him. How's that different from any other kid I've met? I mean, no offense, but you're being kinda dramatic here."

Hecate shot him a look. "You don't understand. Harry's fate is deeply entwined with magic far older and darker than anything you've encountered. The scar on his forehead is no mere injury - it's a mark left by one of the most powerful curses in existence."

Percy's expression shifted, the weight of Hecate's words starting to sink in. "You mean… someone tried to curse him?"

"Not just curse. Kill," Hecate nodded. "And not just anyone. The darkest wizard this world has ever known tried to end his life as a child - and failed. That mark is the result of a magical backlash, one that has left Harry at the center of a prophecy, much like you."

Percy ran a hand through his hair, suddenly feeling the gravity of the situation. "Great. So I just walked into another prophecy mess? Awesome."

Hecate softened slightly, sensing Percy's unease. "Nnow that Harry's involved, things have become… more complicated. His presence here could attract attention we don't want."

Percy glanced towards the closed door of the bathroom, hearing the faint sound of running water. Harry was just a kid. He hadn't asked for any of this, just like Percy hadn't. He knew all too well what it was like to have the weight of the world dumped on your shoulders without warning.

"So what do we do?" Percy asked, his voice quieter now. "I'm not gonna throw him back out there. Not after what I saw."

Hecate exhaled slowly, her frustration giving way. "No, we won't. For now, we'll keep him safe. But you need to be careful, Percy. This boy is tied to a world of magic that could bring dangers you aren't prepared for."

Percy nodded, his mind already racing. "Alright. I'll keep an eye on him."

"Good," Hecate said, her tone firm but understanding. "But remember, Percy - this is a different kind of storm you're walking into. One that could have consequences for both of your worlds."

Percy glanced back at the bathroom door again, almost hearing echoes of the Fates' laughter in the back of his mind. "Yeah," he muttered. "Seems like I'm always in the middle of one."

So, we have Percy meeting Harry! And Hecate seems to know a lot...

I've purposefully kept Harry's age and the year vague, but you'll find out exactly when Percy is during next chapter.

Review responses:

Guest: Thanks, and I hope I finish it too.

King Nexus: Oh yeah!

DARK WRAITH 2001: Appreciate it! Hey, if you want to write a fic where Percy uses Kronos' scythe, go for it! I haven't found much fics with that premise.

thrasherop: Thank you so much! Hope this chapter piques your interest!

LydiaCrazzy: Just a poorly-hidden ad. Come on, do better.

MangoWriter: Oof, fixed that. Thanks!

Onyx the hybrid: Appreciate that! Hope you liked the update.

WitchB1tch: Thanks! I'm probably going to do Fleur, though I might do one of the Greengrass sisters instead.

Anakalusmos404: Hey, thanks for the feedback! I've edited the first chapter a bit, but I'll fully revise it when I get time. Thank you again!

That's about it, people! Drop your ideas for Percy's pairing!

See yall next update!