Is blood thicker than magic?

 A/N All rights to J K Rowling and Rick Riordan. XD

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 Prologue

 Rachel Elizabeth Dare was absolutely starving. She blamed the Hermes cabin. After all, they'd been annoying her all day, pulling pranks and asking her questions all day, trying to get her to predict something for them. Luckily, she hadn't started to spout the green mist of prophecy just yet. That seemed to happen at the worst times. Maybe Apollo had something to do with it. She would have to ask the greek god of prophecy next time he came to give his Oracle a visit. Maybe he could adjust a magical automatic timer, so that she could choose when to predict, at least. Like, not in the middle of an English exam. Gods, that had been embarrissing. But to be honest, there probably was no such thing. Ah, well. Dream on. In the mean time, she started to walk to the mess hall to see if there was any food going spare. Hey, even the spirit of the Oracle of Delphi needed to eat sometime.

 She could just see the marble structure when a familiar voice made her turn around.

 "Hey, Rachel! What's up?" Rachel's friend Annabeth came jogging into view. Her blonde curls were swept back into a messy ponytail, and she had her bronze dagger sheathed at her side. 

 Damn it. It was happening again. Rachel's entire form tensed, and she recoiled, staggering, like she'd just been punched in the gut. She could feel the Oracle start to surface. She managed a weak smile at her friend, who had ran forward to help, and blacked out.

***

 Annabeth took one look at her redheaded friend, and knew she was about to give up a prophecy. Rachel's eyes rolled back, and Annabeth eased her down onto the mossy grass floor. The familiar green smoke began to curl from Rachel's lips, and twisted into coils and tendrils of people the daughter of wisdom didn't recognise.

 Ten shall search and Hecate's blessed meet,

 A figure with messy black hair, round glasses and emerald green eyes spoke the line. Annabeth faintly recognised the smoky figure.

 The sea and the lightning shall join and greet,

 Annabeth definelty knew the figure that rasped that line. It was her own boyfriend, Percy Jackson, son of the sea god, Poseidon. He was most likely heading towards the mess hall for dinner right then, with no idea that a version of himself foretelling a prophecy that, for all Annabeth knew, could be foretelling the end of the world. Again.

 Love, death and war shall break the curse,

 A boy about with flaming red hair and a freckled face predicted the next line. He had his head slightly cocked to the side, as if he was confused about something.

 The loss shall unite them all, for better or for worse.

 It was Annabeth herself who spoke the final word. Great. Like her day couldn't get any better. And the prophecy didn't exactly sound like it was fortelling a lovely trip to the park. 

 Ah well. She lent her hand to a feebly stirring Rachel, helping her up, and together the two girls walked up to the dining pavillion. But Annabeth couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to happen.

 Something huge.