Disclaimer: I don't own HP or PJO in any way or form, or I wouldn't be going through Four years of college for ten hours a day.
AN-1: Hogwarts begins now, and properly by Chapter 14. That doesn't mean the demigod side of Harry's blood won't plague his life, in conjunction with his Potter Luck. Also, there are gonna be different Pantheons in this fic, and there will be a fair level of interaction with the whenever possible. Also, Harry is older in this fic, so obviously he won't be in the same year as canon in comparison to them.
AN-2: I have a P*T*R*N, where you can read the NEXT FOUR CHAPTERS right now, along with four to six chapters of all my other fics. Just follow the link on my profile.
AN-3: The powerscaling in this fic is different than canon PJO, or even canon HP, and this will be more apparent as it goes on. While I won't have regular demigods being city destroyers or half of that, you can expect them to be more powerful than canon. Similarly, the monster will also be more tougher as the tale goes on and we come closer to Kronos arc and others.
But that is quite a bit of time away, so sit tight, and review!
"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," he read aloud, his eyes flicking over the rather…impressively loopy cursive that followed, as someone named Albus Dumbledore welcomed him to the…magical school. Picking up his bag, he walked towards the bus station, flicking the monster's blood off his daggers as the Cyclops behind him dissolved away. By his father, his life was weird. While the other eleven-year-olds around him were going to normal schools and still looked and acted like little kids, he was on his way to a fucking castle—with a body similar to an extremely well-built but lean 13-year-old. Reading onward, he raised an eyebrow as he saw the list of items that were necessary. Cauldrons, robes, parchments, quills, ink, ingredients, and last but not the least, a wand.
"No different than what Tim uses," he muttered, remembering the straw-haired son of Hecate who had crafted a staff for himself using Celestial bronze. According to the boy, it helped him in manipulating the mist, the divine metal acting as a conduit for his own internal magic and willpower. Given that Tim's mist manipulation was leagues ahead of his siblings, Harry was willing to believe the eccentric, oftentimes forgetful son of Hecate. Climbing into the bus, he took a ticket for Long Island, wondering about what he would learn in his new school.
Watching the buildings and trees roll by his window, Harry sighed and leaned his head against it. Honestly, in the last three years, he had completely forgotten that he was a wizard as well. Oh sure, he had realized at some point that his flames, telekinesis, and other little things were from his mother's blood, but still. He had been so busy being a demigod that…the fact that one day he would have to go back to Britain had slipped his mind completely.
A few minutes later, he walked into the camp, taking a look at the dark wood that was slowly being used to replace the previous walls. A creation from the Demeter cabin, the variety of oak was somehow stronger than steel by a fair margin, something about the inherent magic from their mother and a blessing from the said goddess making it possible. It was being used to replace every wall, starting with the innermost. While it wouldn't stop something like a Cyclops or a Tier 4, the lesser, smaller ones would be in a pickle in front of it.
Deciding to first tell his father about this, Harry walked towards his cabin, swatting an errant arrow away as he passed by the archery fields. There were a lot fewer people in the camp right now, he saw, having been away for a month. A lot of people had gone away for their schools and colleges, with only a couple dozen year-rounders remaining behind. Thankfully, with the fewer number of demigods in here, the number of monster attacks also lessened in number drastically each year at this time.
He walked into the Zeus Cabin, dropping his bag by the door before he turned towards the stark white, marble statue of the King of Gods standing in front of him. "Hello Dad," he began, waving a hand at it and letting a small bolt of lightning fly from his hands towards the bolt clutched in its hands. A way to catch Zeus' attention, he had realized a few days into his life inside here, and a moment later, the eyes of the statue glowed neon blue, signaling that Zeus was now listening to him. Holding up the parchments, Harry took a breath and began speaking, "So err…I got my Hogwarts letter, and I will be gone within a few hours to Britain to attend this school. Just wanted to let you know, and uh-have your blessings, Father."
'Hmm, right right. Your mother was a witch too, wasn't she? You have my blessing, dear son,' the voice of the King of Gods echoed in his head, and Harry smiled widely at the affection and warmth he could feel from it, 'In fact, I have a present for you on this momentous occasion. Go outside and wait by the entrance to the forest, it will be arriving shortly.'
With that, Harry felt his father's presence leave his psyche, and he ran out of the cabin towards the forest, eager to receive the present from his father—the first ever, he realized with happiness bursting inside him. He blitzed past the surprised form of Chiron, not even registering the Centaurs presence, his eyes firmly set upon the treeline as he reached out with his senses into the air, trying to detect even a hint of what might be approaching the Camp from the heavens.
A second later, the shriek of an eagle echoed in the air, and he tensed up in anticipation, wondering what sort of gift Zeus would have sent for him. The large bald eagle swooped in from the air and landed on his arm, and Harry grinned at him, feeling the avians joy at being close to him. Another facet of him being Zeus' son was that the birds were always happy to be around him, and sometimes, he could also understand their chirps and trills and shrieks. He tapped the bird's head, and it snapped its beak at his finger, flaring its wings as if daring him to try it again.
"So, what did father send?" He asked, looking at the parcel tied to the eagle's0 talons. It cried once, nipping his hand softly before it flew down to the ground, and Harry blinked at the sudden change in behavior from the bird. Kneeling down, he reached out to the thread tying the parcel to its leg, and the instant it was unraveled, the bird flew away with a loud, ear-piercing shriek. Bringing his eyes back to the parcel, he took the box from within the folds of the cloth and opened it, revealing a small, rolled-up piece of parchment inside it.
"A quest?" he raised an eyebrow and straightened it out, sitting down on the log behind him. Not a quest, he realized, seeing the dotted line running from an island to some unnamed place. It was a map, and whatever his gift was, he was meant to find it in the location his father had marked amongst what looked to be mountains…in the southeast of America, "Well, I always wanted to visit Miami."
"Why don't you take one of the pegasi to Britain with you?" Chiron asked, reading the letter from Hogwarts, his eyebrows rising into his greyed hairline as he read the name of the sender, "My word, I didn't know you would have such a man as your headmaster, Harry."
"You know him?" He perked up, pausing the packing of his possessions as he looked at the letter, "Is he a demigod as well?"
"No, he is not," Chiron shook his head, dropping the parchment down on the table as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back, remembering the months he had spent in Europe decades ago, at the height of World War 2. He had met Albus Dumbledore there, battling dozens of wizards all by himself without breaking a sweat, while mortals had fought amongst themselves all around the place, "But he is no less impressive, or dangerous. He is regarded as the most powerful wizard alive today, and trust me, that title is well earned by him. While I don't know much about him, having met him decades ago and that too amidst the War…he seemed like a wise, intelligent man back then."
"So, he is like Gandalf?" He asked, remembering the wizard from the Lord of the Rings, with his long beard and wise advice. "How long do wizards live? He must be nearing his seventies or so if he fought in the war and was as good as you said."
"Hmm, he said he was born in 1881," Chiron answered, opening his eyes and smirking at the dumbfounded demigod in front of him. "Wizards have a longer lifespan than mortals, and while Dumbledore is probably white-haired and wrinkled now, he can still live for another five decades or so easily."
"Whoa," Harry gasped, looking at the letter in Chiron's hands as if it was the answer to all the questions of the Universe. "If they are so powerful, then why do they hide from the mortals? And why aren't there more demigods like me? Also, are they aware of the Gods?"
"I will start with the last one first," he said, grunting as he sat up and dropped the letter on the table. "Wizards and Witches are aware of Gods, and have been since they first appeared. They pray and sacrifice to them, but not on every meal as you do here at camp. On the important, special days of the year like the Equinoxes, Halloween, or Samhain as it is called in the Magical Circles. As for the second…do you remember what Lady Hestia told you when she first met you? You are the first demigod who is also a wizard and a long-time Harry. Gods avoid siring children with the mages, because of a few particularly powerful wizards that almost destroyed the world completely a millennia ago."
"And the first?"
"Well," Chiron began thoughtfully, before his lips spread into a smile and he chuckled, "I think some answers should be left for your teachers in Scotland Harry. After all, you are a wizard too, and you should learn your history by your people's tongues, not mine."
"Quite right, Chiron," the melodious, quite awaited voice of Hestia spoke up, and Harry watched with a grin as the Hearth Goddess flamed into existence before them. She was in her matronly, mature form right now, and with her arms spread by her side, that was all the invitation Harry needed to positively barrel into her. He hugged her tightly, relishing in the warmth and comfort she provided, mentally lamenting that now, for a major part of the year, he won't be able to hug his aunt. "I made some cookies for you Harry. Something to remember your old aunt by when you are in Scotland."
"You are not old," Harry frowned, looking up at her with a frown, before he amended his statement, "Well, you ar-err…What I mean to say is, no one could ever forget you, Aunt Hestia. You are the best! And I will find some way to hug you daily if I have to!"
"The admirable thing about you is, Harry, that I believe you," Hestia laughed brightly, ruffling his hair as she shared a smile with Chiron, before her amber irises turned back towards him. Her smile turned soft, and she kneeled down, placing her hands on his shoulder as she kissed his forehead, "But there is no need for that dear nephew. Whenever you wish to meet me or hug me, just speak my name into a flame and I shall appear."
"Mhm," he nodded, once more burrowing into her hug. "Father gave me a quest today, and I think I have to go to Florida for it. So I will start now, and try to finish it within a week. I want to come back in time so that I can learn more about the Wizarding World in Britain before Hogwarts starts."
"A smart choice," she nodded, ruffling his hair before she nodded at the door. "Well, since your Father has given you a quest, make haste to complete it. He is certainly not above punishing you if he takes offene for one reason or the other."
A frown came over his face at that, his eyes turning skyward for a moment as no sound of thunder came from the usually quite prickly King of Gods—Harry knew that much about his father, that and the rather unsavory history Zeus had written to his name. "Okay, Aunt Hestia," he nodded, kissing her cheek once before rushing out of the Big House, summoning the Hogwarts letters and various parchment that had arrived with it back to him. "I will bring you back a present from Miami, Chiron, and you too Auntie!"
"Do you think the Celts or the Norse will take offense to his presence in their shared territory?" Chiron asked as soon as the door was closed, erecting a barrier around the Big House to prevent any noise from exiting it, while Hestia made a ward to prevent anyone from magically listening to their conversation, "The last time a Greek demigod-wizard was in Europe…it almost caused a war between us."
"Well, Ekrizdis did create those demons," Hestia pointed out in return, making Chiron grimace as he remembered the white-haired, blue-eyed monster. "Underworld has a way of twisting people if you are not careful. For a new god like him…"
"I understand," the centaur nodded sombrely as she trailed off, a grimace flitting across his face before he turned towards the door. "The years slip by faster and faster each century. It feels like it was yesterday that I held an injured, eight-year-old Harry in my arms—and now he is amongst the strongest demigods here, rescuing others like himself, and has defeated The Hydra all by himself. With how the Fates are interested in him, and the weight of two broken oaths upon his life…I shudder to think what years, nay, decades we are looking forwards to."
"I do the same, Chiron." she sighed in return, sitting on the couch and summoning tea for both of them, "Will you go with him to Britain when he gets back from Florida?"
"Perhaps, or maybe I was thinking his aunt could go with him, spend a few days together," Chiron laughed, and Hestia giggled too. Besides Hades and Poseidon, Chiron was the only one she could be free with. It was not a bad thought though, she realised. Over the millennia, her brothers and sisters had sired many children. But Demeter's never bothered with her, all of them too busy with plants and farming and other things. However, sometimes, once in a century or three—for Poseidon and Hades at least, a demigod came along from either of her brothers, who called her aunt and cared about her beyond having the favour of a goddess.
"I might," Hesita nodded, beaming at Chiron, "It is not as if I have any active engagements here in America. Although, it all depends on whether Harry wishes for it or not."
Chiron stared at her, deadpan, and Hestia had the grace to look away from him with an embarrassed smile at that. "You think that Harry will ever refuse your company? He sees you as his mother, Hestia, whether he realizes it or not. Besides, you need a break from the daily life of camp and Olympus anyway. I am sure he will be thrilled to have your company."
"Well," Hestia smiled brightly as she stood up, and flames began to swallow her from feet up, "I better go to Athena for the best destinations in the British Isles. And I have to take permission from the Celtics and the Norse too, to set foot in their territory."
"Take some cookies for him, will you? I swear the boy eats nothing else when they are at hand."
Using the mist to manipulate the senses of the mortals around him, Harry opened the window beside him and slipped out of it, climbing on the top of the bus as it cleared out of the tunnel…right above a bridge. Tilting his head to pop his vertebrae, Harry looked down at the valley below them, the cliffy mountains and the barely there shrubs surrounding him on all sides.
Walking to the edge of the bus' roof, he rose into the air and dropped down a moment later on the asphalt. Summoning the daggers to hand, affectionately named Thorns by Ashley, he bent his knees a little, and jumped. The road beneath him cracked and cratered as he shot up into the air, and reaching well over a height of a hundred feet above the bridge, he glanced down at the rocky land below him, floating in the air under his own power.
Dropping down towards the cliffs, he slammed his daggers into them just as he passed by them, gritting his teeth and tensing he stopped his descent. Pulling back the right one, he stabbed it above him and did the same with his left, beginning the climb to the top of the cliff. Ordinarily, he would have just landed on the cliff top from the height, but he didn't want to draw any unwanted attention from accidentally causing a landslide—with how durable and strong his body was, along with all that power he would have gained with the height, that was a guarantee.
Grunting as he came up on the flat surface, Harry stared at the evening sun before him wondering if his brother was watching over him. Shaking his head a moment later, Harry started walking forwards, sheathing the knives and summoning his backpack out of his pockets, which enlarged to its regular size as he slung it over his back.
"Now what would Father have me do he-huh?" Harry stopped his words as he felt something in the Earth…dig towards him, and it was gaining more and more speed by the second. He turned westwards, distastefully using his powers as the Earthshaker's son to feel the vibrations more keenly…and his face paled of color rapidly. Whatever the creature was, it was massive, and massive creatures were never the easy ones to deal with. As if agreeing with him, the scars on his abdomen throbbed with phantom agony, and Harry took a step back, pulling on his powers to rise into the air to deal with whatever was coming at a range.
However, before he could do so, he sensed something abnormal in the sky above him. A spark of power, eerily similar to what the appearance of a thunderbolt felt like was sensed by him, and his eyes widened as in a fraction of a second, that little spark reached the energy of a hundred thunderbolts combined into one!
'Holy fucking shit!' He paled even more, looking in the sky just in time to see a bright flash of light, dark clouds condensing into existence as lightning flashed within them. And that bright flash of electricity, Harry saw the silhouette of a large bird, its four wings flapping slowly as its vicious, furious shriek resounded from above, 'Just my luck, getting caught up between a giant stormbird and a giant worm of some kind. What kind of fucked up quest is this, Father?!'