Prologue
Everybody came to at the same time. Harry recognized Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna and Neville, but there were six others he didn’t recognize. They all looked to be Hogwarts-age, three girls and three boys. One boy, who seemed to be the oldest, had black hair and sea-green eyes (similar to Harry himself), another had blonde hair and electric blue eyes, and the third looked of Chinese descent, with close-cropped black hair and dark brown eyes.
For the girls, there was one with honey-blonde hair and stormy grey eyes, one that had a more mocha skin tone with cinnamon-colored hair and gold eyes, and another with choppy brown hair and kaleidoscope eyes. The two groups eyed each other for a moment, trying to assess whether the other was a threat. They look like they’ve seen war, Harry thought, seeing the look in the first boy’s eyes. It was easy to tell - he saw it in the mirror every day.
Tearing his gaze away from the group opposite him, Harry started examining the room they were in. It was cozy, like the Gryffindor common room, and set up like a living room, with two armchairs and four couches. On either side of the center fireplace, there were windows, which looked out onto a vaguely familiar city he thought he recognized from muggle movies. Off to his left, there was an archway leading into a kitchen; on the right, there was a hallway with seven different doors.
“Are we going to talk, or -?” Harry looked back toward the group. The girl with the choppy brown hair had spoken, with a distinctly American accent.
“Guess it couldn’t hurt.” Said Ron, eyes still taking in the Americans.
“British?” The girl with grey eyes asked, an eyebrow raised. Somehow, she reminded Harry forcefully of Hermione.
“Yeah,” Harry replied. “American?” They all nodded, except the boy with the close-cropped black hair.
“Canadian, actually.” He said. The boy with sea-green eyes was eyeing the room carefully.
“This looks like my old apartment,” he murmured. His gaze landed on something on the coffee table. “There’s a note.” Harry followed his line of sight. Sure enough, there was a simple piece of paper there. Hermione, being the closest, picked it up.
“Dear Demigods, Witches, and Wizards,” Hemione read. Harry furrowed his brow. Demigods? As in children of a god or goddess? “We’ve brought you here to integrate our two worlds. The simple way to do this? Swapping stories. After reading this note, you will find seventeen books to read - seven about the group from Hogwarts, and ten about the group from Camps Half-Blood and Jupiter. Don’t worry, time will not pass outside of this room. For introductions, please state your name, age, and either your Hogwarts house or godly parent. Yours truly, Minerva McGonagall and Chiron.” Harry asked, “Who’s Chiron?” At the same time the oldest “demigod” asked, “Who’s Minerva McGonagall?” They both looked at each other in mild surprise.
“What do they mean, demigod?” Neville asked. The Americans (and Canadian) looked at each other apprehensively.
“Have any of you studied Roman or Greek mythology?” The girl with the golden eyes asked. Hermione and Luna nodded, the other four shook their heads. “Well, think Hercules, Theseus, Achilles, those types of people. That’s what we are.”
“Children of the gods.” Luna stated in slight awe. The other group nodded. Harry, Ron and Neville exchanged shocked looks.
“What about witches and wizards?” The girl with honey-blonde hair asked.
“I think you’ll find out,” Harry said quietly, looking at the first book in the stack. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone glared up at him. Great, he thought. More attention on me.
“Well, I guess we should introduce ourselves,” said Ginny brightly. “Ginny Weasley, 16, Gryffindor.”
“Harry Potter, 17, Gryffindor.”
“Ron Weasley, 18, Gryffindor.”
“Hermione Granger, 18, Gryffindor.”
“Luna Lovegood, 17, Ravenclaw.”
“Neville Longbottom, 17, Gryffindor.”
“Are you guys siblings?” The boy with the electric blue eyes asked, looking at Ron and Ginny. They nodded.
“Cool. Jason Grace, 16, son of Jupiter or Zues, Lord of the Sky.”
“Piper McLean, 16, daughter of Aphrodite or Venus, goddess of love.” The girl with choppy brown hair and multicolored eyes.
“Hazel Levesque, 15, daughter of Pluto or Hades, Lord of Death.” The girl with cinnamon hair and gold eyes.
“Frank Zhang, 16, son of Mars or Ares, god of War.” The Canadian.
“Annabeth Chase, 17, daughter of Athena or Minerva, goddess of wisdom.” The girl who had reminded Harry of Hermione.
“Percy Jackson, 17, son of Poseidon or Neptune, god of the Sea.” The boy with sea-green eyes and black hair.
“Does anybody know where we are?” asked Harry. “The city outside looks kind of familiar, I can’t put my finger on it.” Percy looked behind him.
“We’re in Manhattan, in New York City,” He said. “It’s also the layout of my old apartment, except there’s more doors.” He pointed down the hallway.
“Reminds me of the Gryffindor Common Room,” Ron mused. Harry, Neville, and Ginny nodded.
“Shall we start reading, then?” Hermione asked. Everybody nodded, and started to settle themselves into seats. Harry took one couch with Ginny, Percy and Annabeth on a sectional, Ron sprawled out on a loveseat with Hermione on the floor in front of him, Piper and Jason shared with Percy and Annabeth, Frank and Hazel shared another loveseat, and Neville and Luna sat in armchairs.
“Okay,” Annabeth replied, picking up the first book. “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone.”