It was a nice thing Ron did, standing up for Ginny and I like that. He’s never done anything like that before, Luna thought as she, Ginny, Neville, Harry, Hermione, and Ron walked towards Hagrid’s hut had almost completely set, which made it very hard for Luna to see what she was doing, as she was trying to clip on her necklace of butterbeer caps (backwards, as she could see what she was doing in the daytime if she crossed her eyes slightly) and walk. The motion of her legs made it difficult, and she lad to ask the others to stop for a second.

    When they reached Hagrid, Luna noticed that Ron was fiddling with something in his pocket, though she couldn’t see what it was.

    “Yer all prob’ly wonderin’ what what we’re doing here, since we don’t need to look for injured Unicorns anymore.” Hagrid’s big, booming voice greeted the group. “A Freybug’s been seen on the loose around here, and -”

    “What’s a Freybug?” Neville asked, looking thoroughly confused, in which he was not alone; Harry, Ron, and Ginny also looked perplexed. “It wasn’t in any of our Care of Magical Creatures textbooks.”

    Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Luna got there first.

    “A giant black dog associated with the Underworld, in some cultures. It’s also called a Hellhound,” she said, remembering a Dracopedia she had at home. “There’s another name, but I can’t recall it just now.” She thought for a second. “Oh, a Warg!”

    “Er - yeah, that’s a Freybug.” Hagrid said, sounding a bit taken aback by what the Ravenclaw had said.

    “So, basically, just a giant, deathly Padfoot?” Ron asked. Neville looked at him, surprised. Harry and Ginny smiled weakly. Luna frowned, and Hermione glared at him. He saw Harry’s expression. “Oh, hey, mate, I didn’t mean - I forgot . . .” He trailed off. Harry nodded. Everyone was silent for a while, staring at the ground.

    Ron really needs to think before he speaks, sometimes. He can be a bit unkind, Luna thought.

    “So, Hagrid!” Ginny said loudly, breaking the silence. “What are we supposed to do?”

    “Well, er, we’re gonna find the Freybug, and try t bring it back to where it belongs. It’s prob’ly lost.” Hagrid said. “I’ll take Fang,” he said, pointing at his boarhound sitting beside him. “I trust you six enough that I’ll leave you alone. If you find it, send up green sparks. If you get into trouble, send up red sparks, and Fang ’n’ I’ll come find you.”

    The groups split up; the students in one direction, and Hagrid and Fang in another.

    Luna could tell that everyone was on edge already, and they had only been walking for five minutes. She pulled her Spectrespecs down over her eyes and surveyed the group. Hermione, of course, was Nargle-free. Harry, Neville, and Ginny’s heads had very few, also.

    Ron’s . . . Luna’s train of thought left her mid-sentence. Ron’s head was swarming with Nargles.

    Neville seemed to notice Ron’s distracted air, too. “Er - Ron?” He asked tentatively. Ron paid no attention. “Ron? Hello?” Neville tried again. No luck.

    “Oi! Earth to Ron!” Harry shouted. Luna thought she heard a stick snap to her left after Harry had spoken. She looked over quickly, but saw nothing.

    Rin jerked forward slightly.

    “Yeah, um, hi. Is there something you would like to tell us?” Harry asked.

    Ron looked over at his friend. “Oh. Teah. Erm, when Mcgonagall was talking to me - or, before she came into the room - I saw something on her desk, and, well. . .” Ron reached into his pocket and started to pull out a small golden trinket-like thing, which Hermione, Harry, and Luna recognized immediately. Wide eyed, Luna stared as Ron pulled out a small circular object attached to a golden chain, which practically oozed magic unknown to the wizard society.

     Hermione stared, aghast, at the Time-Turner in Ron’s hand.

    “RON! You took That?! You. Are. A. Prefect! Do you realize how much trouble you could get in if someone found out? That doesn’t even look like a normal Time-Turner!” She took a deep breath.

    “Why did you steal it, though?” Ginny asked.

    Ron opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, a huge, black, Sirius-looking dog bounded out of the bushes, almost landing on Harry.

    “Um . . . is this what we’re looking for, Luna?” Neville whispered fearfully.

    Yes,” Luna said, “but I thought it wouldn’t be the size of a train.”

    It certainly was the size of a train, height-wise, but it didn’t look nearly as friendly as the Hogwarts Express.

    The Freybug howled, and rushed towards the group. Before Hermione knew what was happening, Everyone had grabbed onto Ron at his command, and they Apparated far, very far, away from the school. Before they vanished, though, Hermione thought she saw the Hellhound evaporate into the shadows.

    Wait . . . you couldn’t Apparate or Disapparate inside Hogwarts bounds, which included the Forest. So how . . .

    The Time-Turner, Hermione thought. RON!

     Harry looked around. He had no idea where ron had taken them, but they were outside, behind a large, blue-painted house. Behind the house was a field of strawberries.

    He turned to the rest of the group. Neville looked a bit startled from the Freybug. Luna was looking around with a disconcerted expression on her face. Ginny was muttering something  about Ron gripping her shoulder to hard. Hermione, howerer, had Ron backed up against a pine tree. Ron had the sense to look scared, as Hermione was pinning him to the tree with ger left arm, her right hand twitching dangerously close to her wand.

    “Ron,” she snarled, “where the bloody Hell did you take us?”

    Ron stuttered, “I don’t - how would I know? I didn’t think of anywhere! The Time-Turner must have done something. This doesn’t look like the present!”

    Looking around, Harry saw that his friend was right. He saw a few cars parked near the bottom of the hill they stood on, and the style definitely didn’t look like the Weasley’s old flying Ford Anglia.

    “That still doesn’t explain where we are, or when we landed in.” He said.

    “I already told you - I don’t know! How would I? And, Hermione, get off of me!”

    “Not until you give me the Time-Turner,” Hermione said. “I don’t trust you with it.”

    “Fine. I’ll give you the bloody Time-Turner.” Ron felt around in his pockets. His eyes widened suddenly. “It’s gone!”

    Harry thought he misheard Ron. “What? Did you say it’s - gone?”

    “What did you do with it?” Luna asked, surprisingly calm.

    “Right before we vanished, I stuck it in my pocket.” Ron turned out his pockets. “But now it’s disappeared!”

    “Could it have fallen out?” Ginny asked, scanning the ground near the pine tree.

    “No!”

    “You can’t be serious.” Hermione looked at Ron, then backed up. “You are serious. But how? How does a Time-Turner just vanish into thin air? It’s impossible!”

    “How do you Apparate with a Time-Turner in your pocket and end up in another time period without physically using the Time-Turner? I don’t bloody well know! I -”

    Will you both please SHUT UP?!” Harry yelled. He held up his hands in surrender so they wouldn’t turn on him. “Okay. We lost the Time-Turner. We’re trapped here. We need to figure out a way to -” He was cut off by an eerie howl followed by barking. He turned towards the bushes.

    The Freybug burst out and ran towards the group. Hermione screamed as the monster pushed Harry onto his back and put a huge paw on his stomach, pinning him to the ground. He tried to move his arms but couldn’t. His wand had been knocked out of his hands, and was too far away for him to reach it.

       The Freybug lowered its head and opened its mouth, showing off wickedly sharp teeth. This close, it was much bigger than Harry expected, about the size and weight of a large dump truck. It also bore a striking resemblance to Sirius: shaggy black fur, a german shepherd’s appearance. The only difference was that it had chocolate brown eyes instead of coal black.

    Harry saw Ginny point her wand at the Freybug and actually start to say a spell when a bronze sword impaled the ground near her foot. He heard someone shout something, and the Freybug backed off. Lifting his head, he saw the person who shouted standing near the large house, right arm outstretched, wearing an orange t-shirt with the barely discernible logo Camp Half-Blood.

The last thing I expected to see on a Saturday morning in July was my Hellhound standing on my doppelganger.

    I was hurriedly cleaning my cabin before cabin check (Annabeth Chase and Piper Mclean) came around. It would take about ten minutes to hide my dirty clothes, food wrappers, and clean my water spillage scattered all over the floor. (I had tried to see if I could control the water in the fountain in the Poseidon cabin. Ended in me soaking the floor in magical Iris-Message Poseidon water.) I figured I had only about ten seconds when I realized that I hadn’t seen Mrs. O’Leary, my Hellhound, all day.

    I was running to the door when Piper and Annabeth came in. I almost crashed into them.

    “Woah, slow down Seaweed Brain.” Annabeth caught my shoulders and looked past me. “Holy Hera, Percy, what did you do?”

    “Things,” I said, trying to push past them. “Now can one of you please move? You’re both blocking the doorway.”

    “Why do you need to get out, Percy?” Piper asked. “Is something wrong?”

    “Yes,” I said. “Have either of you seen Mrs. O’Leary? At any point of time today?”

    Annabeth looked confused. “Um, no. Shouldn’t you be keeping track of her, She’s your pet, after all.”

    I looked at Piper, who shook her head. I was starting to get worried now.

    Suddenly, I heard a howl come from outside the Camp’s borders. I looked at the girls, then sprinted past them in the direction of the Big House. Annabeth called my name, and she and Piper

I followed Percy, motioning for Piper to take Mrs. O’Leary back to the arena.

    I bent down to help the boy Percy’s Hellhound had been trying to flatten to his feet, and was taken aback by how similar to Percy he looked; messy black hair, green eyes (though his were bottle green, Percy’s the color of the Caribbean sea,) skinny frame. The only differences were the clothes and the glasses. This boy had round glasses, which looked as though the bridge had been broken multiple times, as it was held together with tape. He seemed to be wearing some sort of uniform: a black cloak-type garment with scarlet lining, and a gold-and-red striped tie. The strangers all seemed to be wearing this, except for one girl, who’s tie was blue-and-bronze striped.

    “You okay?” I asked.

    “Yeah. Fine.” He winced as he spoke, which I took to mean as a, “No, but I don’t want to be seen as a tragic case.”

    “Ow!” I turned to see Percy hit Thalia’s tree and slide to the ground, sword (now pen) in hand. The girl, who I assumed had knocked him backwards, had what looked like a dark, intricately patterned stick out, but was looking from Percy to the boy Mrs. O’Leary had stood on in confusion.. I laughed, then walked over to Thalia’s tree to help Percy to his feet.

    “Is it really so difficult not to anger a person when they first meet you, Seaweed Brain?” I asked, pulling him to a standing position.

    “I don’t try to!” Percy protested. “And, most of the people I anger aren’t people.” He turned to the long red-haired girl who had knocked him back. “But I don’t see why you had to hurt me.

    “You nearly stabbed my foot!” She retorted.

    “I saved your life!” He pointed near her feet. The girl jumped back.

    I used my knife to pick up the carcass and stared at it in amazement. “How is it not dust?” I muttered, turning it around. “This doesn’t - okay, wow! Gods, that is gross!” It’s eyeballs had turned to golden sand, which dripped out of empty, blood-coated eye sockets the color of its red frill, and into the monster’s gaping mouth.

    “Well, part of it did turn to dust,” Percy said, making a face. “But how did a Basilisk get here? This close to the camp?”

    Everyone looked at him. The girl sucked in a breath.

    “Did you say . . . Basilisk?” She asked nervously, looking at Percy’s doppelganger, who shook his head. I wondered what that meant.

    Suddenly, a brown-haired girl spoke up. “I feel as though this question has been held back too long, and since we’re all wondering the same thing, I may as well say it - where and when are we, and who are you?!”

    I blinked in surprise. “Um, you’re at Camp Half-Blood, in the twenty-first century. This is my boyfriend, Percy Jackson’” Percy raised his hand in a ‘hello’ gesture, realized he still had his pen in it, and shoved it into his pocket, “and I’m Annabeth Chase.”

    The boy who looked like Percy walked over to the other - were they students? - and spoke to us. “I’m Harry Potter.”

    “Ron Weasley.”

    “Hermione Granger.”

    “Neville Longbottom.”

    “Ginny Weasley.”

    “Luna Lovegood.”

    “Okay,” I said. “How’d you all get here?”

    Hermione glanced at Ron. “Care to explain?”

     Ron gulped, looking at Hermione’s glare (she was obviously still angry about something), then began. “I, er, got a detention, and -”

    “A detention? For what?” Percy asked.

    “Basically trying to defend our friends against the school bully, Draco Malfoy.” He said this name with disgust.

    “Story of my life, minus the ‘Malfoy’ part.” Percy said. Hermione rolled her eyes.

    I shot a look at Percy. “Quit interrupting.”

    “Not my fault!”

    “Who’s fault is it, then?” That shut him up. Ron continued.

    “I ended up getting them in trouble, too,” he gestured to the students. “We were sent to the Forbidden Forest - it’s forbidden because it’s filled with monsters, like Acromantulas -”

    “What is an Acromantula?” I asked.

    “A giant spider,” Hermione said. I shuddered. As a child of Athena, I’ve got Arachnophobia. (Look up Arachne.)

    “-to track down a Freybug - Hellhound,” Ron corrected quickly. “I had stolen something from, eh . . . somewhere, and I was showing it to them so we could figure out why it was at school, when your Hellhound jumped out of the bushes and tried to kill us. I apparated us here, and - well, you know the rest.” He finished guiltily.

    “Ron, I, eh, don’t think it was you who brought us here.” Hermione said. “I think it was the Time-Turner, somehow.” Hermione said.

    “But I never used it! Again, it was in my pocket!” Ron protested.

    Hermione caught my look. “Ronald here stole a Time-Turner, but now It’s lost.” She explained.

    “And now we’re stuck here.” Ginny grumbled.

    Percy wandered towards the bushes Mrs. O’Leary had jumped out of. He bent down, felt around on the grass (something he does when he lost something small,) and came back with an object that glittered gold in the sun.

“Is this it?” I asked, dangling the object from my finger.

    “Yes! But - oh, no.” Hermione groaned.

    It had probably once been beautiful. It’s golden face, which held a tiny hourglass with a weird bluish tint, was dented, the hourglass cracked, pure white sand spilling out of it. The thin chain was tangled in a knot. The entire thing was ice cold, and gave off negative vibes, like an evil spirit.

    “That was a Time-Turner?” Annabeth asked, slightly skeptical.

    “That was a Time-Turner,” Harry confirmed, disappointed.

    “What is a Time-Turner, anyways?” I asked.

    “A Time-Turner is a device used to transport witches and wizards back in time. Never forward, but that doesn’t explain this,” Hermione said. “It’s also very dangerous, as you should never be seen by your past self.” She glared at Harry, who smirked weakly, and kind of sadly. “Time-Turners only go back hours, too. One that goes back years hasn’t been invented yet. It also can’t take you to another continent!” She added.

    “Leo might be able to fix this.” I said.

    “Who?” Harry asked.

    “Our friend, Leo Valdez,” Annabeth explained. “He’s great with anything mechanical. This might count as mechanical.”

    Neville looked relieved. “Alright. that’s great.”

    Luna still didn’t look convinced. “I’m not sure,” she said. “This was invented by wizards. He might not have the right tools.”

    “He’s Leo. He’s got a magical toolbelt. I’m sure he’ll be able to fix this.” I wasn’t completely confident, though, and tried to mask it with my words best I could.

    “Wait,” Annabeth said. “You all keep mentioning witches and wizards. What does that have to do with anything?”

    “Care to explain, Harry?” Ginny asked.

    Harry launched into an explanation punctuated by someone mentioning some detail every third sentence; spells, schools of magic, wrongly accused godfathers, werewolves, Patronuses, Death Eaters, tournaments, murders, resurrections, scars (That’s when I noticed that Harry had a strange, lightning bolt-shaped scar hidden by his bangs), Snape, Malfoy, Dumbledore, Voldemort - it all made my head spin, and I had trouble focusing on some parts. My brain does that. I have ADHD.

    When they finished, I said, “We need to tell Chiron. Now.”

    “Yes, we do.” Annabeth agreed. A new thought seemed to come to her. “But will they be able to cross the barrier? I mean, seeing as they’re not Demigods?”

    “Demigods? What?” Neville asked. I explained as quickly as I could, with as little detail as I could; it wasn’t safe for Annabeth and I to be outside the border for this long.

    “When you say ‘borders,’ do you mean that there’s an enchantment keeping humans and monsters from entering your camp - Camp Half blood, was it?” Luna asked.

    Annabeth looked surprised. “Um, yes. How did you know? We never told you.”

    “There are spells like that from where we come from.” Hermione said.

    Annabeth looked at the others. “Can you give us a minute?” She pulled me aside. “They might not be able to get past the borders,” she whispered.

    “Well, maybe they would. They’re not normal, whatever the meaning of that word is now,” I said. “Maybe they’ll be able to enter the camp.”

She sighed. “But they’re not demigods! It doesn’t - what makes you say that? They’re still human, albeit magical.”

    I looked at Annabeth. “It’s worth a shot, still. You never know what’s going to happen before it’s happened. Maybe they’ll get past the borders. If they don’t, you can come up with a plan, because we all know how my plans turn out. ”

    She laughed, then said reluctantly, “Fine. You’re right for once.” I grinned at her.

    I walked past the Big House, motioning for the group to follow. Harry was first, after Annabeth and I. If we hadn’t told him about the barrier, he probably wouldn’t suspect we had one. The others quickly followed, and gazed around in awe at the camp: the dining pavilion, the forest, Fireworks beach, the Arts and Crafts area, the amphitheater, the insanely dangerous yet thrilling climbing wall, the armory, the cabins (each one designed to represent a god,) the pegasus stables, the Athena Parthenos, everything. It was then we saw Chiron cantering over to us.

    “Percy? What is going on?” He asked, his white tail flicking the air.

    We all took turns explaining. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, and Luna acted as if they were familiar with Centaurs, since they spoke to Chiron the way I did. (Which was with respect.)

    When we finished, Chiron processed the information for a minute, then mused, “Yes. I think Leo should have a look at this,” he examined the busted Time-Turner as he spoke. “We will have to figure out provisions for you all, though.” He addressed the Hogwarts students now.

    “Erm - sir,” Harry began. “What do you mean by ‘provisions?’”

    “Where you’ll eat, where you’ll sleep, those types of things, of course.” My mentor turned and made to walk away. “Mars will be bright tonight,” he said, then laughed at Harry’s expression. “I’m joking. Something tells me my brethren in your world have told you that often in the past.” He laughed again and cantered off.

    “Never met a Centaur with a sense of humor,” Ron muttered. “I’m not sure if I like it more, or if I’m weirded out by it more.”

    “You’ve never met Chiron, then,” I grinned at everyone. “Let’s go see Leo.”

“Ο Δίας και όλοι οι άλλοι θεοί!” I yelled, hitting the heating vent in frustration. “Stupid broken heating vent!” I was hanging upside down from a metal bar (that most likely had held a model of something in the past) attached to the ceiling. I was in Bunker Nine, trying to fix a glitch in Buford, my magical flying animatronic table, when it suddenly got so cold the inside of the Bunker’s walls frosted over. Naturally, I thought something was wrong with the heating vent, so I climbed up a ladder I found in a corner behind a rusted work table, but after banging the vent a few times with various tools, the ladder slipped off the wall because of the frost, and . . . here we are.

    The Bunker was still freezing, though, so that just proved that I cannot produce warm air from a broken vent system. An, yes, I had tried using fire to fix it. I’m not stupid. But, of course, no such luck. I was beginning to wonder if Nemesis had cursed me with one of her fortune cookie prophecy things that induce bad luck. Even though I was pretty sure nobody of importance wanted revenge on me, though. Still, it’s always a possibility.

    So my afternoon was going great. My table was broken, Bunker Nine was turning into a meat locker, and I was hanging from a pole fifty feet from the floor, with no ladder in reach.

    I did not expect Percy and Annabeth to show up with six other strange teenagers wearing weird robes at that moment.

    “Leo?” Annabeth’s voice sounded muffled through the door concealed in stone. “Are you there?”

    “Yes!” I shouted. “You can come in. You . . . do know how to open the door, right?”

    “Nobody but you is pyrokinetic, Leo.”

    “Oh. Yeah.” I had made a button that could open the door whenever I was busy with a project or something. Since it was portable, I always kept it in reach of my hand. The only problem was that I had left it on the table. “See, I can’t exactly get to it or the door right now, so -”

    I heard an unfamiliar voice say something I couldn’t here, and the Bunker’s door opened. In came Percy, Annabeth, and six strange kids, all of whom looked around my age, about sixteen or fifteen.

    Percy immediately seemed to notice the temperature drop, and looked towards the heating system - and me - in confusion. “Uh, Leo . . . what are you trying to do?”

    I raised my arms - or, rather, lowered them - above my head. “What does it look like I’m trying to do?”

    “How’d you get up there?”

    I pointed to the ladder, which being one of the many century-old inventions strewn around Bunker Nine, had been about to break when I used it. It now lay in a pile of bronze screws and rungs.

    “Oh.”

    A wrench I was holding fell out of my hand, nearly hitting one of the kids on the head. She looked up, backed away from the wrench, and took what looked like a carved stick out of her pocket. She held it by her side, brushing her dirty-blonde hair from her face, but didn’t do anything with it. Yet.

    My foot suddenly slipped, and I fell. Right before I hit the ground, though, the girl pointed her stick at me and said something that I didn’t quite catch. Arresto something-or-other. I hovered midair half a foot from the floor. A second later, I landed on my stomach, not the least bit hurt, and stared at the strange girl. “Who are you all?” I asked, standing up, frankly a little frightened after what had just happened (and what was still happening.)

    The girl smiled. “My name is Luna Lovegood.” She had a strange voice; it sounded almost like she was in a trance. “That over there is Harry Potter;” Harry was crouched down, tying his sneaker, but he grinned at me and gave a little salute with two fingers. “Ron Weasley;” Ron raised his hand in greeting. “Hermione Granger;” Hermione glanced over distractedly, smiled quickly, then went back to examining a blueprint for the Argo ll. “Ginny Weasley;” Ginny waved. “And Neville Longbottom;” Neville smiled shyly.

    “Thanks for saving me, though I guess it was kind of my own fault I fell.” I said. “I was trying to fix the heating vent.”

    Luna looked a bit confused, but said nothing.

    “Yeah, Leo, why is it so cold?” Annabeth asked, rubbing her arms. I was a bit better off than her and Percy, since I had on my army jacket Calypso had made, but I was still shivering.

    “I don’t know.” I answered. “I don’t think it’s the vents, though, and the Hermes kids couldn’t have gotten in here.”

    Harry suddenly looked over at the far wall, and his eyes widened with shock and confusion. “Er . . . Leo, is that supposed to be there?” He asked.

    There was a crackling noise. Everybody turned, just in time to see a message, half in French, write itself on the wall with ice:

    “Bonjour, mon chère! I hope you haven’t forgotten my little grudge against you, Leo Valdez. I am afraid I must - shall we say, settle it, once and for all. I am sorry that I must bribe you, though I would rather not stoop so low. Your little heartthrob from Ogygia is my prisoner, now. She’ll make a lovely ice statue! Amusez-vous dans ma version - peut-être plus meurtrière - de Tartarus, mon petit héros!”

    -Khione

    We all stared, frozen in shock. Annabeth looked at me, alarmed. “Um, Leo, are you - is there something you would care to tell us?”

    I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. My hands clenched by my sides. I could tell that they were smoking. Fury ran through me, replacing my bloodstream with fire. I wipped my arm forward in a throwing motion, my hand ablaze, and sent a ball of white-hot, golden flames towards the snow goddess’s words, smashing them to pieces and melting the frost on that wall.

    I sank to my knees, hands over my head, breathing deeply. Thoughts rushed through my head, most of which would end up with my mouth being washed out with soap if I spoke them.

    Percy placed a hand on my shoulder. I lowered my hands and looked up at him. He had a hard, determined look in his eye, one that I hadn’t seen since the battle with the giants. “Let’s go to Rachel,” he said. “We need to see the Oracle. Tell her we need a quest - immediately.”

As the group rushed out the entrance to Bunker Nine, Leo noticed a button on the wall that hadn’t been there before. He pressed it, but nothing happened He pressed it again, repeatedly, but again, nothing happened. He shrugged and raced off to catch up with the others.

    Little did he know that the mysterious button did, in fact, do something. Just, not something he would have expected.

Draco checked his watch. Another five minutes until he was to meet with McGonagall. He sighed through his nose as his arm flopped back down by his side. He was stressed out as it was (though hiding it relatively well,) and he really didn’t want to get up.

    He was alone with his girlfriend, Astoria Greengrass, in the Slytherin common room. Draco was sprawled on one of the black sofas, his head hanging over the arm. Astoria was sitting on the back of the sofa, a closed Defence Against the Dark Arts book in her lap, her legs over his.

    “You could skip, youknow. Say you were ill or something.” She suggested.

    Draco looked up at her. “That would just get m into more trouble, idiot. You know what McGonagall’s like. She would see through that, easily.”

    “It was just a suggestion,” Astoria muttered, and looked at the coals in the common room’s fireplace, seeming to stare off into space. Draco immediately felt a bit guilty.

    “Listen, Astoria, I didn’t mean - I’m sorry,” He said. “Honestly, I am.”

    She didn’t say anything, just smiled a small smile at him; but he knew that smile. She had forgiven him, as she had with his other tensed outbursts.

    Draco took a deep breath. It was now or never. They had been dating for seven months, and Astoria still didn’t know. “Hey, Astoria, if I’ve seemed tense lately to you, or anything like that, That’s because something’s come up, and -”

    He didn’t get a chance to finish, for a light clicking noise sounded, like the clicking of some invisible button, and a huge tremor went through the sofa, knocking the two Slytherins off.

    “What was that?” Astoria asked, nervously looking around the dark common room.

    “I don’t know,” Draco said, “but whatever it was, I doubt it has to do with what you’re thinking of.” The Dark Mark on his right forearm wasn’t burning, but he couldn’t be sure if it had to do with You-Know-Who or not. He didn’t dare roll back his sleeve to check, though.

    Astoria seemed to relax at his words, bt not significantly.

    A hissing sound, a snake’s cry, filled his ears. A thick green mist entered the room, dousing the embers in the fireplace and seeping throughout the common room until neither could see a foot in front of them. Panic filled Draco’s mind. He searched frantically for a way out, but seemed to be frozen; he couldn’t move a muscle. His breath caught, and, with a flash of blinding white light, the two Slytherins had disappeared.

    After they disappeared, though, the mist vanished, and revealed that the clock on the wall had stopped ticking, as had Draco’s watch.

 Rachel broke from the trance she always entered when she was painting. A half-finished watercolor of a group of eight people wearing strange robes took up the majority of the canvas. It was beautiful, but it confused her.

    There were four boys and four girls, most with a serious (and slightly determined) expression. The boy in front looked eerily like Percy, except with round glasses, taped at the rim. Two ids looked like siblings, with the same red hair, only the girl had brown eyes, and the boy had blue. One of the girls looked younger than the others, maybe two years younger. She had short-ish, average looking coffee-brown hair. Another girl also had brown hair, though hers was notably bushier. One of the boys also had brown hair, and his poise suggested that he was possibly a little shy. One girl had very long dirty blonde hair, almost down past her knees. One boy had extremely pale blonde hair, slicked back slightly. The expression on his face was one Rachel knew well - a tense look, with an undertone of something she couldn’t identify. Fear, maybe? No. Unwillingness? No, not quite. She had seen it on Nico’s face whenever Will made him socialize with people that were still alive, and weren’t him.

    The curtain acting as a door to her cave was pushed aside violently, making Rachel jump.

    “Woah! Where’s the fire, Percy? Don’t do that!” Percy stood in the doorway, with Annabeth and Leo by his sides.

    “We need to talk. It’s important.” Leo said, fidgeting with the buttons on his army jacket, a usual occurrence.

    Rachel blinked. “What could be so important that you rip my -” She never finished, for the three demigods had moved inside, letting six teenagers move into view of the doorway.

    They were the kids from her painting.

    Two were missing, though. Rachel wondered where the platinum blonde boy and the younger girl were.

    She shook her head. “I’m - I’m sorry. Just - what - who are you all? Where are the other two?”

    The red haired girl looked up. Her hair was an even brighter shade of red than hers, Rachel realized. Fiery. It was stick straight, not frizzy like hers, or scruffy like her brother’s.

    “So, Harry! Care to explain again?” She asked.

    The boy, the one that looked like Percy, shrugged and opened his mouth to speak, but Rachel cut him short.

    “You don’t need to explain! I already know where you come from, how you got here, blah blah blah. I just - what are your names?”

    The boy that was about to speak, Harry, she presumed, blinked in surprise. “How could you know all that?”

    “I’m Camp Half-Blood’s resident Oracle. My name’s Rachel Dare.” She explained.

    The strangers all gave her blank looks, except for the frizzy, brown-haired girl, who pinched the bridge of her nose, saying, “Oh, Merlin, not another one.”

    Rachel didn’t know what the girl was getting at. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you mean.”

    The redheaded boy spoke up. “I’m also confused. What does and Oracle have to do with a school subject?”

    “You never know what I mean.” The girl said. “At our school, there is a Divination class. The teacher, Professor Trelawney, is a - I’ll just say fraud, though there are other equally suitable names for her. She has no ‘Third Eye,’ no divine power, and to top it all off, she drinks! I don’t know how in Merlin’s bloody name she was hired!” She took a breath. “An Oracle, for those who don’t know, was used by ancient Greeks to speak prophecies,” she explained. “They weren’t even real Oracles, just women on hallucinogens!”

    Percy, Leo, and Annabeth looked shocked. The kids looked as if ranting about a particular teacher was a regular occurance.Rachel, however was extremely offended.

    “You’re wrong.” She said darkly.

    The girl scoffed. “Prove it, then.”

    Rachel’s eyes glowed bright green, leaving no whites. Emerald smoke curled around the cave, hissing like a thousand snakes. A horrible, serpentine voice issued out of her open mouth.

    “Thirteen shall venture past all borders known to man

    “The Soldier and the Dragon will soften the fued

    “The Nymph shall be saved by fiery hand

    “While magic returns to where most would elude.”

    Everyone stared at Rachel as the smoke dissipated, and she collapsed onto the floor.

    “Well,” Hermione said in a small voice. “That was - I take it back. I believe her.”

    Suddenly, there was a flash of light, and two students appeared in the corner of the Oracle’s cave.

Astoria opened her eyes. She and Draco were standing in a completely unfamiliar cave, but surrounded by people, most of whom were very familiar.

    Harry was glaring at Draco, who was staring at him in surprise and loathing, though his posture suggested he couldn’t care less.

    “Malfoy.” Harry growled.

    “Hello, Potter,” Draco sneered. “Come to try to kill me again? Or will you hide behind the protection your Mudblood mother gave you?”

    Harry’s eyes widened. He drew his wand, but Draco had had his in his hand since the strange mist invaded the Slytherin common room. Astoria figured she had better do something before things got dangerous.

    “Expel -” Harry started to say, but Astoria cut him off by saying, “Protego!” and casting the Shield Charm.

    The spell was so powerful it not only made a barrier that disappeared after two seconds (strangely), but knocked the two duelers back and slammed the caster against one of the beautifully painted walls.

    “Ouch,” she muttered, rubbing the back of her head. “Not a good idea.” She looked over at Draco, who was trying to yank his leg out from between the wall and an overturned table. She heard Harry stand up on the other side of the room, cursing quietly.

    That was when she noticed the three other teenagers in the room.

    “Who are you two?” A scrawny, curly haired boy asked warily.

    “That’s Draco Malfoy,” Astoria said, standing and gesturing with her hand to her boyfriend, who had freed his leg and was walking over to her. “I’m Astoria Greengrass.”

    A boy around Draco’s age, one that looked shockingly like Harry, whispered to the black-haired Gryffindor, “the Malfoy you mentioned earlier?” Harry nodded.

    A blonde, storm grey-eyed girl around three years older that her (Astoria was fourteen) spoke up.

    “Wait . . . the Latin word for dragon is ‘draco,’ and if you’re . . .” She trailed off, looking from Draco to Harry with a calculating expression. “I wonder . . .” She trailed off again.

    There was a rather awkward, glare-filled silence, which Astoria decided to break. “Okay, I’m sorry, but where the BLOODY Hell are we?!”

    “Camp Half-Blood, the only safe place for demigods.” The blonde girl said coolly. “My name is Annabeth Chase. I’m a daughter of Athena. That’s Leo Valdez. He’s a son of Hephaestus;” The short, scrawny kid grinned at Astoria, “And Percy Jackson. He’s a son of Poseidon.” Percy nodded, smiling a bit.

    “Oh, and that’s Rachel Dare, the camp’s Oracle.” Annabeth added, pointing to the corner of the cave, where a young girl laid, unconscious, on the floor.

“Um, is she . . . alright?” Astoria asked tentatively, taken aback by the sight of a body laying still on the floor.

    “What? Oh! Yeah, she’s fine!” Percy said quickly. “That just happens after she speaks a prophecy. It drains her energy.”

    “You mean the one Chase over there was pondering, but won’t tell anyone about, and that probably none of us can comprehend much meaning from?” Draco asked, a sarcastic edge to his voice.

    Percy blinked. “Um. Yes. That one.”

    “How’s it go, then?”

    Percy looked at Annabeth, but Hermione spoke first.

    “‘Thirteen shall venture past all borders known to man

    “‘The Soldier and the Dragon will soften the fued

    “‘The Nymph shall be saved by fiery hand

    “‘While magic returns to where most would elude.’”

    Astoria shrugged after a pause. “I’ve got nothing.”

    Neville finally spoke up for the first time since Khione left her message on the Bunker’s wall. “For once, I agree with her.”

    “OH!” Hermione yelled, making them all jump. “In Greek mythology, Calypso was a sea nymph!”

    An idea started to take shape in Astoria’s mind. “Fiery hand . . .” She mumbled. “Oh, wait! Maybe ‘fiery hand’ refers to pyrokinesis!” She looked at the demigods. “Er, any of you -”

    Leo’s hand suddenly burst into flames, making Luna, Annabeth, Draco, and her jump back in alarm.

    “Let’s take that as a yes, then.” Draco said.

    “I think the line ‘While magic returns to where most would elude’ means that we,” Ginny gestured to the wizards and witches in the room, “return home - oh. After everything is finished. Of course, just what we need,” she grumbled. “To get caught up in another dangerous adventure.”

    “But, what about the other two lines?” Ron asked.

    Everybody shook their heads. Even Hermione and Annabeth looked perplexed.

    “Wait, how’d you two get here?” Percy asked. Astoria had almost forgotten that the others didn’t know.

    She explained as quickly as she could. As she spoke, though, she noticed Draco kept shifting his right arm. It was a tiny motion, but she noticed.

    “So how did all of you get here?” Astoria asked the Gryffindors (and Ravenclaw.) Ginny answered first, starting with detention and ending with the Oracle’s cave.

    When she finished, Astoria stared at them, aghast. Draco looked shocked, most likely because there had actually been a Time-Turner at Hogwarts, which was impossible, since they had all been destroyed at the battle in the Ministry. He also looked like he was about to say something, but was interrupted by a sliding noise behind all of them. When they turned, a boy around Astoria’s age stood there, breathing heavily. He had deathly pale skin, pitch black hair, a silver skull ring on his finger, and a wickedly sharp sword the color of obsidian hanging at his side from a chain. His eyes had a hollow look to them. Like Draco’s, she thought.

    “Nico? What’s wrong?” Annabeth asked.

    The boy, Nico, didn’t look that surprised to see the students. “Meet me by Zeus’s Fist,” he panted. “I have something to show you, and you’re not going to like it.” He raced out. The demigods, witches, and wizards looked at each other, then rushed out after Nico.

The others beat me to Zeus’s Fist, only because I was jumped on by Mrs. O’Leary.

After I told the students from Hogwarts, Percy, Annabeth, and Leo to go to Zeus’s Fist, I had to run around the edge of camp to reach the easiest place to Shadow-Travel - the Hades cabin, because it was always bathed in shadow. (I didn’t want to meet any monsters. The woods was stocked full of them as a “challenge,” and Zeus’s Fist was in the woods.)

    You’re probably wondering how I knew the teenagers were from Hogwarts. Well, obviously, being a son of Hades I can converse with the dead, and a lot of their family and friends were in Elysium; James and Lily Potter, Sirius Black, Neville Longbottom’s grandfather, Pandora Lovegood, Ron Weasley’s uncle (Bilius, I think his name was,) Cedric Diggory. They told me all about the students. I have no idea who that younger girl is, nor that blonde kid, though. I don’t like the looks of him, but there is something about him that I can relate to. Maybe his intense aura, or his hollow, pale grey eyes, or the way he looked around the cave, like he didn’t trust anybody. The girl, though . . .

    Maybe it was the way she stood close to him, protectively, or how she kind of talked with her hands, but she reminded me of Bianca.

    Painfully.

    My eyes started to tear up at the thought of my dead sister, the pain that still haunts me. Stop it, I thought, wiping my eyes as I ran. Someone will see you and -

    I never finished my thought, for at that moment, Percy’s ridiculously large Hellhound jumped at me playfully, making me trip and fall onto her paw, landing on my back.

    She barked short, halting barks that sounded like laughter.

    “Yes, you’re so funny.” I said, getting up. “Now can you please move? I don’t have time to play.”

    I tried to move around her, but she stood in my way like a black furry statue. That’s when I realized that Mrs. O’Leary wasn’t being stubborn - she was standing between me and the sun. She was offering her shadow as an easier place to Shadow-Travel than my cabin - which Will was probably near.

    “Um, thanks, Mrs. O’Leary,” I said, then melted into her shadow.

    A word about Shadow-Travel:

    It usually feels like moving at a really, really fast speed through complete darkness. At least, it has every other time I’ve used it.

    This time had to be the exception.

    I felt like I was being compressed by the shadows. I couldn't breathe. I couldn’t move. I’m terrified at the prospect of being forced into small spaces, so I started to panic. I was thinking irrationally, that I would be trapped forever in the shadows -

    - And suddenly I was free, stumbling towards Zeus’s Fist. I would’ve smacked my head against the pile of boulders if I hadn’t stuck out my arms to catch myself.

    “Woah, Nico, are you alright?” Percy asked, reaching out to grab my shoulder, then pulling back.

    “What happened?” Annabeth asked.

    My eyes were wide. I was breathing heavily, unable to speak. “That was not Shadow-Travel.” I managed to choke out.

    “What is Shadow-Travel?” Luna asked.

    “Children of Hades, the god of the dead, and Hellhounds, can use shadows as teleportation methods,” Annabeth explained. “It usually drains their - well, his, really - energy. But, Nico, why aren’t you . . .”

    I shrugged, still a bit shaken. “I don’t know. Shadow-Travel usually feels like - well, imagine traveling at one hundred miles per hour through complete darkness. This time, it felt like I was being forced through a really small tube. And I am, I guess, claustrophobic.” I added.

    Harry blinked. “Er, you might be talking about Apparition.”

    I looked at him, confused. “What?”

    ‘A method of transportation wizards and witches use,” he said. “Feels exactly like what you described the first time you do it correctly.”

    “Maybe you experienced that because we’re here.” Hermione added thoughtfully.

    I stopped leaning on the boulders. “No offence, but if that’s the case, I’ll be really glad once you all leave.”

    “So . . . what was it you wanted to show us?” Ron asked.

    “Oh. Oh yeah!” I had almost forgot. “It’s over here.” I motioned for them to follow, then ducked behind the rocks.

    What was hidden there was something I never wanted to see again.

A huge part of the boulders that made up Zeus’s Fist were covered in ice. Except for one small part, where a tin hole was gouged into the stones.

    Percy bent down to peer into said hole. “What - it’s pitch black. I can’t see anything. Where does this lead?” He looked closer. “Wait, there’s something in here.” He stuck an arm through the hole and pulled out a slip of paper with a message written in Greek across it. H read it out loud:

    “This is the start of your ‘quest.’ Or the end, if none of you are clever enough to make it past the first obstacle. Remember, I have much more planned. You have limited time. I’d try to hurry. -Khione.”

    “Oh!” Hermione exclaimed next to me, making me jump. “The prophecy said that thirteen people would ‘venture past all borders known to man.’” She turned to me. “You’re the second to last person on this quest!”

    I looked at her. “Okay. What does that have to do with anything?”

    She shrugged, then frowned, apparently pondering who the thirteenth person was supposed to be. Ron rolled his eyes.

    Draco knelt down and peered into the hole. “I think this is supposed to be a tunnel. But -” He stood up and moved away, confused.

    I looked at him, also confused. “You can’t be serious.” I said. The hole was the size of an adult human’s skull. There was no way any of us would fit through. It was absurd . . . yet it made sense. This had to be a ploy. The real entrance was somewhere else.

    I looked closer at the hole, getting down on my hands and knees. “Wait, I think there’s something written here,” I muttered. There was, but it was covered in frost, so I couldn’t read it. I lifted my hand to brush it away; the moment my thumb brushed the words, the hole expanded. Well, not really ‘expanded.’ It seemed to disappear, but a mirror-sized sheet of translucent white ice covered half of Zeus’s Fist. Beyond the ice, I could see nothing but darkness. The writing was gone.

     “Ο Δίας και όλοι οι άλλοι θεοί . . .” I muttered. “What the heck?” I placed my hand against the ice. It was thicker than I expected. I felt the ice, searching for any cracks I could hit with my sword. Just as I was about to pull my hand away, my arm was sucked in up to the elbow. I tried to pull it out, but it was stuck. My feet started sliding towards the boulders. The ice was trying to pull me in!

    “Nico!” I heard Percy run over. He grabbed my free arm and pulled. I wanted to rip my arm away, I hate being touched. But if I pulled away, I would be sucked through the ice, and I had no idea what laid on the other side.

    Suddenly, an idea struck me like Zeus’s Master Bolt. (I’m mentioning the name ‘Zeus’ a lot in this. Oh, well.)

    “Percy,” I said. “Let go.”

    “What?”

    “Just do it.”

He glared at me. “Are you mad?”

    I shrugged. “Maybe. Just do it.”

    He let go, and reluctantly stepped back to Annabeth. I took a deep breath, and slammed my shoulder through the ice with the force of my entire body weight. I made no breaks in the ice, but I was through, standing on a thin ledge of black rock. I could see the others, their worried (and surprised, in a few cases) expressions watching me. Suddenly, my foot slipped, and I was falling down a dark, seemingly endless hole, a hole that marked the start of our quest.