Percy Jackson/Harry Potter Crossover

Chapter 2

{Yeah, sorry. I expected to update the day I posted that last one, but wasn't able to. Sorry... Anyway, here it is!}

PERCY

I sat on the Long Island beach at Camp Half-Blood, Annabeth at my side. She had fallen asleep in my arms, and I didn't have the heart to wake her up, for it was a rare occasion that she could sleep without nightmares, yet that was exactly what was happening. So I sat there, cradling her head and watching the waves lap at the shore. Thinking. Remembering. Regretting. I was so wrapped up in my joyful, yet sorrowful thoughts, that I almost missed it when a sand dollar washed up on the damp ground at my feet. A sign from Poseidon. It meant that the gods wanted me. But given all that they had done, or should I say NOT done, throughout the war with Gaea, I wasn't really in the mood to go retrieve Aphrodite's hairbrush or kill some army of baddies the gods were too lazy to bother with. So I ignored it. For about five minutes, more or less (Tartarus had messed with my sense of time), there was blissful silence. Just as I was dozing off to sleep, I felt a twitch next to me. Annabeth. She was having another nightmare. I had known it was going to happen, after all, in the back of my mind. Neither of us had slept well since the Giant War. Since Tartarus. I guess that's normal, though. It was the demigod version of PTSD*, in a way. Annabeth screamed, jolting me back to reality. Her whole body was trembling now, in uncontrollable, jerky movements, and her breathing had become more rigid and forced. Grabbing her shoulders, I gently, but firmly shook, but she didn't wake up. Then she called my name in a frightened voice, and I fought back tears. I couldn't cry. Not when Annabeth needed me. More urgent this time, I again shook her, but she slept on, the nightmare obviously clouding her ability to think straight. This time when I attempted to wake her up, I desperately dove underwater, pulling her with me, making sure to provide a bubble of air around both of our heads once we got about ten feet down so that Annabeth could breathe and we could talk, and checking the depth of the water we were in, so as not to crush Annabeth under the weight of the sea. For a few seconds after she awoke, she stared at me in shocked silence. And then, as if the whole reality of the war, of our life, came crashing down on her, she suddenly burst into tears. I pulled her closer to me, letting her bury her face in my chest. She clung to me with such fright that it hurt, and I soon found myself silently crying along with her, resting my head on hers. It reminded me of the encounter we'd had with the sirens in the Sea of Monsters. Annabeth, determined to discover her fatal flaw (hummus, pride), had almost been lured into their trap, longing to turn her vision of a perfect world into reality, as the sirens were telling her was possible. If I hadn't pulled her underwater, breaking the spell... I shuddered thinking about it. 

Annabeth sniffed. "You alright?" I asked. 

"Uh huh."

We made it to the surface, and Annabeth only had two more sudden fits of tears on the way. As we crawled onto the warm beach sand, I noticed a new shadow. One that hadn't been there before. Using my hand as a visor from the bright afternoon sun, I looked up and saw that Leo was hovering right above us.

"Ugh. Leo, go away. I just want to enjoy my first month off," I groaned.

"I see that you WERE enjoying it," he laughed, jutting his chin out in the direction of Annabeth and raising an eyebrow. "An underwater kiss," he (incorrectly) guessed. "Classic, but romantic."

I didn't even try to explain. It didn't really matter, anyway. Instead, I asked what he needed. Surely he wouldn't stop harassing the new campers and hanging out with Calypso only to check in on us.

He nodded grimly. "We're under attack."

*Post Traumatic Stress Disorder

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