Demigods Vs Magic.

The first task

A few weeks later, 

"Let's get this party started!" Percy yelled, walking into the tent where they were to wait before the first task. They had been allowed to dress up as they wanted to, and while the others simply wore their robes, Percy had come prepared. He had Riptide, concealed in wand form, of course, in his hand. He was also wearing the watch Tyson had given to him as a shield, among other things, along with other assorted concealed weaponry from the years he had spent at Camp. 

Along with that, he was dressed in a tank top and gym shorts, which clearly showed his absolutely shredded figure for all to see. He looked around, scanning the faces around him. Fleur Delacour was sitting in a corner on a low wooden stool. She didn't look nearly as composed as usual, but rather pale and clammy. Viktor Krum looked even surlier than usual, which Percy supposed was his way of showing nerves.

'They know.' Percy realized, noticing their expressions. Whatever the next task was, they knew what it was. How they got to know, Percy didn't know, but he suspected it was probably their headmasters getting involved. Percy wondered if Harry knew.   

"Harry! Good!" said Bagman happily, looking around at him. "Come in, come in, make yourself at home!" Bagman looked somehow like a slightly overblown cartoon figure, standing amid all the pale-faced champions. He was wearing his old Wasp robes again.

'So Harry knows too.' Percy noted. 'Given his expression, it's something tough. Makes it more interesting for me.'  

"Well, now we're all here, time to fill you in!" said Bagman brightly. "When the audience has assembled, I'm going to be offering each of you this bag"  he held up a small sack of purple silk and shook it at them," from which you will each select a small model of the thing you are about to face! There are different...er varieties, you see. And I have to tell you something else too . . . ah, yes . . . your task is to collect the golden egg!"

Percy looked around, and just as he suspected, none of them showed the slightest sign of reactions besides imperceptible nods. Whatever it was, it was bad. 

"Ladies first," Bagman said, offering it to Fleur Delacour.

She put a shaking hand inside the bag and drew out a tiny, perfect model of a dragon — a Welsh Green. It had the number two around its neck.

'So we're fighting dragons huh?' Percy smirked. 'And she goes second, fair enough. I wonder which dragon I will get.' 

Next came Krum. He pulled out the scarlet Chinese Fireball. It had a number three around its neck. He didn't even blink, just sat back down and stared at the ground.

Harry put his hand into the bag and out came the blueish-gray Swedish Short-Snout, the number one tied around its neck. Harry seemed to sigh in relief, but for a brief moment, his gaze slipped to Percy's direction in a form of pity. 

Percy shrugged and shoved his hand inside, and pulled out the Hungarian Horntail, and the number four. It stretched its wings as he looked down at it, and bared its minuscule fangs. Percy froze, staring at the creature, as memories started playing in his head. 

"Run!!" Annabeth yelled over the burning buildings, as the roof of the Senate House began to collapse. "Look for cover!!" 

"What the Hades is going on?" Percy asked, rushing out of the building, as a corpse of a centurion fell in front of him. 

"Dakota..." Percy stared at his cool aid-obsessed friend and comrade, his face stuck in a mask of agony. Percy looked across the city, as buildings collapsed and houses burned.  Civilians, dead civilians spread across the parks and the roads, the fountain spewing blood instead. Percy looked up, as his sea-green eyes stared into beady obsidian ones. Large wings stretched around him, covering the moonlight as a spiked tail and wicked fangs glared back at him from above.