Harry Potter, adopted son of Percy Jackson

:: 2 :: A letter with Blue Pankcakes

Percy Jackson flipped over a pancake, hissing as he nearly burned himself -smiled happily when he saw that it wasn't burnt, and looked perfect. He had worked hard on perfecting his pancake making for a while. For blue pancakes that is. Checking the time on the kitchen clock he frowned, then sighed as he realized why it was so quiet in their house.

Taking the pancakes off the stove, he set it with the rest as he turned the stove off. Then started walking out and towards his son's room. He smiled at the title-he still felt a little off at the fact he was a dad-but he loved it.

Leaving his dirtied apron that said "cookin and cookies"  on the counter nearby. Harry had picked it out-likely because it was blue. Plus they both loved cookies-blue ones of course. He was happy to have given some to his son-his moms recipe of blue cookies. One of the only things that still connected him to his mother.

Walking into his sons room, he raised a brow at the starfish position on the king sized bed his son was laying on. Drool came out as he twitched in his sleep. He didn't know how he got his drooling habit- Snorting he rolled his eyes. Like father, like son. Getting closer he laughed when his nose scrunched up. "Hey," laughing again he ripped the blankets off him. "Cmon kiddo, before I eat all the blue pancakes again."

Before he knew it, Harry-yes the Harry Potter from the bakery, he had adopted him as soon as he could, and had been his dad for the past 4 years.

Harry had jumped up and stumbled out as quick as a cheetah but as clumsy as a kitten out of his room and down the stairs towards the kitchen. Percy followed with a shake of his head and a laugh.

Harry skidded on his socks to see the plate of steamy waffles waiting on the counter island. He sighed in relief, jumping when he heard laughter, he turned to glare at his dad. "That's not funny! Gods, I nearly had a heart attack." He glowered.

Laughing Percy just shook his head and served him a plate. Harry knew about the gods, and knew his father was one by force, but he still thought it was cool. He didn't know much, only that they were real, and that his father could do nearly anything he wanted. Apparently Percy also knew about Harry-to which when he begged to know, he was told to wait till he was at least 11. And seeing as his birthday was around the corner. He really hoped so. Percy wanted him to have a semi normal childhood. This was what he could do till his world was turned around. He would of course teach Harry as best he could of the world he was born into.

"When you're done, go get dressed. I'm going to go grab the mail real quick okay?" He said as he walked off towards their front door to their estate.

Harry hummed as he grabbed himself a plate and piled on the pancakes with a hungry joy. He loved his dads pancakes-he especially loved the blue pancakes. He remembers a whole section in their cabinet by the stove-was a whole box of blue dyes.

As he was eating he watched his father walk by while on the phone-he was talking to one of his coworkers from what he could tell-he helped manage a camp back in New York, and sometimes Harry wished he could go and see it. His father never would tell him why.

Once he was done he found he had gotten syrup all over his hands and some of his shirt. He groaned in annoyance at this fact-he glanced at the pile of pancakes with a pout-he wanted to eat more but sticky hands made him wanna wash off immediately-he thought he might as well get ready for the day while his dad speaks to his camp and looks through mail that was delivered thanks to Hermes.

Running up the stairs, he carefully opened his door to his room, eyes catching sight of their lake outside his floor to ceiling windows before rushing to the adjoined bathroom to shower and get dressed.

Once he was done, dressed in grey jeans, and a blue flannel. He grabbed his phone and a beanie to put over his head and cover his lightning shaped scar. He didn't mind the scar honestly-his dad had told him scars were a way of remembering journeys through out life. That they were important lessons we could learn from to that we lived.