Chapter 1

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Percy sat on the sand of the beach and looked over the water. One of his hands was wrapped around a cold Coke and his eyes were trained on the horizon. What he could really do with was a stiff drink, but the Stoll's supply was low, and he had already drunk his Annabeth-allotted serving of alcohol for the week. Still, Percy supposed, you couldn't blame a guy for hoping. Not for the first time that summer, Percy was thinking of Leo. He ran through the same thought process over and over again.

Maybe if I was faster, then I could have saved him.

If I was stronger, I could have beaten Gaea myself.

I should have been better.

Gods, I miss him.

Percy took a drink and wiped his eyes before any tears could fall. Now that would be embarassing. Big bad Percy Jackson, crying on a beach at sunset. Really makes you run and search for cover, doesn't it?

Percy sighed and sipped his drink.

"Percy?" He whipped his head around and saw Annabeth standing above him.

Percy cracked a smile. "Hey, Wise Girl."

"What are you doing out here?" she asked, taking a seat next to him.

"Oh, you know. Watching the waves, sipping a soda." Percy shrugged.

"Oh. And, what are you really doing?" Annabeth gave him a knowing look.

He sighed. "You know the answer to that."

Annabeth sighed and leaned on his shoulder. "You can't keep blaming yourself," she said.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. It wasn't my fault and there's nothing I could have done," Percy recited, pulling an arm around her waist.

"Good. Now you just have to start believing it." Annabeth snuggled closer to him as Percy heaved out a sigh.

"Yeah. Easier said than done." Percy finished off his Coke and set it on the ground next to his feet.

Annabeth turned and kissed his cheek. "Come on, you should get some sleep."

The couple stood up from the ground and walked hand in hand back to the cabins. Percy looked around at the camp as they strolled past. The dining pavilion was closest, with the make-shift Roman camp still set up in the field behind it. The strawberry fields stretched out behind it, with the Big House on the other side of them. Past the dining pavilion, you could see the campfire, still flickering some last minute flames.

When the two reached the cabins, Annabeth turned to Percy. "Good night, Seaweed Brain."

"Good night, Wise Girl." Percy reached down and gave her a quick kiss, before jogging over to the Posieden cabin.

He pushed open the door to the seastone shack and strolled inside. The cabin seemed strangely empty and silent without the lumbering snores of Tyson to fill the void. Percy silently changed and slipped into bed. He stuck one hand under his pillow to hold on to his pen/sword. He had been doing the same thing for the past month, just as a precaution.

Percy took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Time to tackle the nightmares.

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Harry strolled down Privet Drive, flinching as memories flashed in his mind.

Lupin and Tonks laying on the floor.

Dumbledore broken in a heap at the foot of a tower.

Dobby dying in his arms.

It was all his fault.

Harry shook his head and pounded on his scar. This was all his, Harry's, fault. He was the reason for the war, for the violence, for the death. His parents died to save him, Voldemort came back because of his blood, Voldemort waged the entire battle on Hogwarts just to get to him. Harry had lost any parent he ever had, left now with just a cruel family and a fostered home.

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had moved back to Privet Drive after the war. Apparently they had missed the drama, normalcy, and complete and utter blandness of the neighborhood.

Harry hadn't had to go back to Privet Drive. The Weasleys had offered him stay at their house, but he felt that he just had to get away from the wizarding world. Everyone he saw while walking down Diagon Alley or anywhere with magical folk tried to congratulate him. Good job, Thank you, You have saved us all. Because, of course, Harry had always wanted to commit murder and save the world. Not.

Why couldn't it have just been Neville?

Now, without Hedwig, he had no one. Hedwig was his one companion that stuck with him to the very end, even going so far as to sacrifice her life for Harry.

Harry flinched at the added guilt.

Of course, Harry still had Ron and Hermione, but they were a couple now and Harry was dating Ginny, and everything was just so screwed up and confusing, it gave him a headache to think about it. He needed a breather before he went back to school in the fall to complete the year he missed. Hey, he couldn't be an auror without his N.E.W.T.s.

Harry decided to just head home for the night. He couldn't put off sleep forever, even if he had good reason. So Harry walked into Number 4, Privet Drive, and climbed the stairs to his room. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had practically given up on discipline when they learned that he had killed the most powerful dark wizard to ever live.

Strolling up the stairs, he saw Uncle Vernon's door swing open and his uncle stick his fat nose out of it. Harry smiled and flipped him a wave of his hand. Harry saw the nose purple slightly before retreating. The door slammed close and Harry rolled his eyes.

He walked on to his own room, opening up the door to see the cluttered mega closet of Dudley's that he was "allowed" to use.

Harry flopped down on his bed, clutched the wand under his pillow, just as a precaution, and closed his eyes. Time to face the nightmares.

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