When Buried Pasts Are Unearthed (PJO & HP & Avengers Crossover)

When Buried Pasts Are Unearthed

Chapter 1: When Buried Pasts Are Unearthed…Two- No, Three Worlds Collide

(Sort of prologue [explaining how Harry and Percy reached joining S.H.I.E.L.D ])

Summary: Au with different endings to the books, Harry and Percy suffer greatly from their separate wars. Each of the flee from their respective pasts and individually join an American spying agency named S.H.I.E.L.D as assassins. Kraken (Percy) and Basilisk (Harry) become well-known legendary rivals within the agency until they are partnered together and realise that they are the perfect team. But how well can they hide their secret pasts? Hp/PJO/Avengers(ish)

WARNINGS: Death, probably torture, pain, wars, swearing, major plot change, SPOILERS, possibly slash relationships, weapons…rated T for now.

≈One Fandom Is Not Enough≈

Harry Potter-

Harry abruptly stopped pacing in a circle, thus forcing Voldemort to stop with him. His voice resonated around the silent hall. All the people in the room were collectively holding their breath; the tension was so thick you could barely walk through it. One of the reasons Harry stopped pacing actually.

"The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy."

Blank shock showed on Voldemort's face for a moment, but then it was gone.

"But what does it matter?" he said softly. "Even if you are right, Potter, it makes no difference to you and me. You no longer have the phoenix wand: we duel of skill alone…an after I have killed you, I can attend to Draco Malfoy…"

"But you're too late," said Harry. "You've missed your chance. I got there first. I overpowered Draco weeks ago. I took this wand from him."

Harry twitched the hawthorn wand, and he felt the eyes of everyone in the Hall upon him.

"So it comes down to this doesn't it?" whispered Harry. "Does the Elder Wand know that its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does…I am the true master of the Elder Wand."

A red-gold glow burst suddenly across the enchanted sky above them, as an edge of dazzling sunlight appeared over the sill of the nearest window. The light hit them both of their face at the same time, so that Voldemort's was a flaming blur. Harry heard the high voice shriek as he, too, yelled his best hope to the heavens, pointing Draco's wand:

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Expelliarmus!"

The bang was like a cannon blast, and the golden flames that erupted between them, at the dead center of the circle they had been treading, marked the point where the spells collided.

Harry saw Voldemort's green jet meet his own spell, saw the Elder Wand fly high, dark against the sunrise, spinning across the enchanted ceiling like the head of Nagini, spinning through the air toward the master it would not kill, who had come to take full possession of it at last. And Harry, with the unerring skill of the Seeker, caught the wand in his free hand as Voldemort fell backward, arms splayed, the slit pupils of the scarlet eyes rolling upward.

Tom Riddle hit the floor with a mundane finality, his body feeble and shrunken, the white hands empty, the snakelike face vacant and unknowing. Voldemort was dead, killed by his own rebounding curse, and Harry stood with two wands in his hand, staring down at his enemy's shell.

One shivering second of silence, the shock of the moment suspended: and then the tumult broke around Harry as the screams and the cheers and the roars of the watchers rent the air.