At first glance, Percy Jackson is the son of Poseidon, the Hero of Olympus, survivor of Tartarus, the defeater of Monsters; but deep within his roots stems magic that reaches into another world: the world of wizards and witches and dark lords and on...
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"Is Master Percy sure about this?" Tinky asked gently. She stood dutifully at Percy's side, paintbrush and bucket in her one hand and a part of Percy's jeans clasped in the other. Her big eyes stared up at him in adoration, and Percy cast a smile back down at her.
"I'm sure, Tinky," he said. Tinky nodded and walked forward. The door in front of her swung open, revealing the room of Percy's past - the bedroom he'd had as a child, before Lily and James (his mother and father by all but blood) took him in and he became a Potter. It hadn't changed since Percy first viewed it just over a year ago when he returned to the Jackson Estate. The walls were still ocean blue, and toys remained scattered across the carpet. The photographs of Percy's infant self and his biological mother, Sally Jackson, were still stuck to the mirror.
Percy smiled fondly, picking up one photograph that had fallen to the floor. It was Sally and Lily together, both crowded around a giggling Percy who was nestled in Sally's lap. Lily was dangling a toy in front of his face, and the infant was trying to reach for it, stubby fingers outstretched. Percy placed it in his pocket before turning to Tinky. "Let's do this," he said, grinning. "Kid needs a place to sleep when she gets here after all."
Tinky nodded, smiling, and waved her hand. The paintbrush picked itself up and thrust itself into the bucket, coating its bristles in pink paint before smacking against the wall. The crib began unscrewing itself, piling neatly on the floor, and all of the toys shuffled over to a nearby box. Old products vanished into thin air and the three large windows threw themselves open, letting the musty air out. The drapes hanging beside the windows changed from a sea-green color to a clean white. The photographs disappeared, and empty frames appeared on the dresser, ready to be filled.
Percy found himself grinning from ear-to-ear. At first he'd been terrified. How could they, in good conscious, bring a child into this demented, war-torn world? It had taken a long time for Percy to find the answer: Hope. Hope was the reason for Harry's survival. Hope was the reason why Percy woke up to face every day whilst living under the Dursley's roof. Hope was the reason.
He hoped Annabeth would appreciate his choices for the nursery. She wasn't the biggest fan of pink, but somehow, Percy felt that the color would fit their baby girl perfectly.
Hours passed by the time Percy and Tinky were finished setting up the nursery. The walls were pink with fluffy white clouds and moving pictures of pegasi soaring across the fresh paint. The crib, much newer and safer, rested with the head against the wall, unlike Percy's crib which had been in the middle of the room, and was complete was a mattress and pink sheets inside. The cupboards were filled with baby clothes, courtesy of Piper and Hazel, as well as a series of toys. One in particular stuck out to Percy, one from Leo Valdez; it was a floating ball and inside, a series of enchanted fish and sea-life swam. Maybe he just liked the sea. After the war, he would take his family to a beach somewhere and they would have a long, long holiday.
