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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Percy was not arrogant enough to think this wasn't the best Christmas he'd had in years. The house was alive in a way Percy hadn't yet seen —save for the wedding— and fully decked with Tinky's impressive collection of decorations. As Percy and the others clambered around the suddenly crowded dining room table for supper, he found himself smiling. Everyone wore paper Christmas hats of different shades and cuts; Thalia was attempting to sing a greek lullaby she had learned with the hunters; Piper and Leo were thumb-warring and Leo was losing; Hazel and Frank were coddling poor Tinky who just wanted to make it back to the kitchens; Grover was attempting to calm his girls and Nico was... well, it was Nico.
Annabeth grabbed his hand underneath the table and gave it a squeeze. They exchanged smiles. If this was the Christmas their child would grow up in, so different from those of their own haunted childhoods, then all was right in the world.
A shiver trailed down Percy's spine just at the thought.
He vividly remembered being shut up in the cupboard as the Dursley's held Christmas dinner, trying to keep a starving baby Harry silent. The smell of the food was almost nauseating, and the laughter and cheer just outside their reach was taunting.
Slamming on the cupboard door. Crying, crying, crying. "Quiet him down, wretch!"
"But Auntie Pettie, he's hungry! He won't go to sleep until-!"
Roaring footsteps. A fist grabbing his hair. "What did you say, boy?"
Percy could remember that first Christmas best of all. He had been four years old, staring at the giant Christmas tree in the lounge with a longing gaze. Perhaps if he stared long enough, begged loud enough, prayed to as many deities as possible, his parents would appear from behind the tree and call their time with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon a joke and take them home to Potter Manor. There, the Christmas tree would be bright and filled with presents just for them; Lily would sing a lullaby while James rocked them to sleep. There, all would be right.
"Please Mummy. Please Daddy. Take us home."
But this was alright now too, Percy thought as a piece of ham shot past his ear, curtesy of Leo Valdez himself. He only hoped Harry was having a nice Christmas as well, wherever he landed up. Not one in spent in a cupboard at the very least.
They all scraped a portion of their food into the fireplace as thanks for the day —and for their survival of another year— and watched it glow various colors. They dug in without further conversation.
While munching on a bit of gammon, Percy's eyes landed on the framed photograph above the fireplace. Laughing, stuck in a glorious moment, was Percy Potter and Cedric Diggory. Percy felt his food turn to ash on his tongue. He hadn't thought about Cedric in days — what a terrible friend he was.
