The Daughter of Hecate (Percy Jackson/Harry Potter)

Triple G Ranch and the Deathly Hallows

It wasn't long until a shadow fell across the grate and a cow stared down at them, a bright cherry red cow.

"Do you think it'll give strawberry milk if you milked her?" Luke whispered.

Annabeth rolled her eyes.

The cow mooed, putting one hoof tentatively on the bars before backing away.

"It's a cattle guard." Grover said.

"A what?" Percy asked.

"They put them at the gates of ranches so cows can't get out. They can't walk on them."

"How do you know that?"

Grover huffed indignantly. "Believe me, if you had hooves, you'd know about cattle guards. They're annoying!"

Percy then turned to the group. "Didn't Hera say something about a ranch? We need to check it out. Nico might be there."

Annabeth hesitated. "Alright, but how do we get out?"

Tyson solved the problem by hitting the cattle guard with both hands. It popped off and went flying out of sight. They heard a CLANG and a startled Moo!

Tyson blushed.

"Sorry, cow!" He called before giving everyone a boost out of the tunnel.

They were on a ranch alright. Rolling hills stretched to the horizon, dotted with oak trees and cactus and boulders. A barbed wire fence ran from the gate in either direction. Cherry coloured cows roamed around, grazing on clumps of grass.

"Red Cattle." Luke said. "The cattle of the sun."

"What?" Percy asked.

"They're sacred to Apollo."

"Holy cow, they're holy cows!" Vitani gasped, making everyone giggle and laugh.

"Exactly." Annabeth nodded, giggling. "But what are they doing-"

"Wait." Grover said. "Listen."

At first everything seemed quiet...but then they heard it: the distant baying of dogs. The sound got louder. Then the underbrush rustled, and two dogs broke through. Except it wasn't two dogs. It was one dog with two heads.

It looked like a greyhound, long and snaky and sleek brown, but its neck V'd into two heads, both of them snapping and snarling and generally not very glad to see us.

"Bad Janus dog!" Tyson cried.

"I don't think that's it, buddy." Luke said, smiling wryly.

"Arf!" Grover barked, raising a hand in greeting.

The two-headed dog didn't seem impressed by Grover's ability to speak animal, it bared its teeth instead.

Then its master lumbered out of the woods.

He was a huge guy with stark white hair, a straw cowboy hat, and a braided white beard- kind of like Father Time, if Father Time went redneck and got totally jacked. He was wearing jeans, a DON'T MESS WITH TEXAS T-shirt, and a denim jacket with the sleeves ripped off so you could see his muscles. On his right bicep was a crossed-swords tattoo. He held a wooden club about the size of a nuclear warhead, with six-inch spikes bristling at the business end.

"Heel, Orthus." He told the dog.

The dog growled once more before circling his master's feet.

"What have we got here? Cattle rustlers?" He asked.

"Just travellers. We're on a quest." Annabeth answered.

The man's eye twitched. "Half-bloods, eh?"