Just some Harry Potter/Percy Jackson one-shots for now. I'll go back to writing PJO when I've had my fill of these.

I don't own PJO or HP- obviously- but Louisa is my OC. Sorry if any of the Harry Potter characters are a bit OC, I've never written HP before.

"Percy, ya've got to try that!" Louisa's hair was a tangled mess, her cheeks glowed rose red and her eyes shone with an excitement Percy hadn't seen before.

After watching a few Quidditch matches, Louisa had become obsessed. Eventually, Harry had let her borrow his Firebolt and now she loved it. The Gryffindor team had even been kind enough to let her try all the roles- Keeper, Chaser, Beater and Seeker. For a 'Muggle-ish person', she was quite good.

Percy couldn't help but smile as his sister eagerly explained every little detail of her hour on the Firebolt. He had never seen her so happy before; it was truly astounding.

She insisted repeatedly that he needed to have his own share of Quidditch and it was twenty minutes into her description did she remember she still had Harry's broomstick.

Smacking herself in the forehead, she exclaimed, "I've gotta take this back! Oh gods, I'm an idiot…" She turned and sprinted towards the stands. Harry, highly visible in his scarlet robes, was sat on the back row with his two best friends, Ron and Hermione.

"Wow." A voice to Percy's left laughed. Annabeth removed her cap, a bemused smile playing on her lips. "I've never seen her that ecstatic about anything."

"You wait until she tells Leo." Annabeth laughed again, looking up as Louisa clambered along the seats and returned Harry's Firebolt.

"Sorry I kept it so long. Where can I get one?" Harry and Ron beamed at her- another Quidditch fan in the bag. "Ew, who are they?"

"Slytherins." Ron grunted, his smile turning into a look of disgust.

"That's the snake house, right?" The three friends nodded, glaring disapprovingly at the emerald-clad team. "Bunch of slimy gits…" Louisa hurriedly searched her surroundings, but no useable weapons, save the Firebolt. She figured using that to batter people black and blue- even hated people- wouldn't win her any points.

Ron's face suddenly lit up and he grabbed Harry's arm.

"Match. Now. And put her on the team." He nodded at Louisa.

"Whoa, hey, no. I'm not that good." Louisa waved her hands, trying to repel the idea. But even Hermione seemed to agree with it. "Oh gods, no…"

They led her back down to the pitch, ignoring her protests.

Thankfully, her brother was on hand. As much as she'd like to be in a Quidditch match, she didn't feel ready. Thanks to Percy and Annabeth, the match was settled for next Saturday- and the whole school would be informed.

"Lou, you'll be fine." Percy assured.

"Ya watch- I'll screw up big time."

"It's not a real match." Hermione confirmed. "Hopefully, we'd still get the points, but it should have no effect on the Quidditch cup." Louisa didn't look convinced so she tried a different tactic. "Worst comes to worse, you'll have plenty of chances to knock Malfoy from his broom."

"I love it when she suggests violence." Ron smiled dreamily. Hermione looked at him in bewilderment, but the others were sharing knowing smirks.

Saturday arrived bright and warm with a slight, cooling breeze. Percy had to drag his sister from the infirmary- where they were staying- because she was adamant she'd make a goof of herself in front of the entire school.

"Don't panic, Lou!" Leo beamed, piling her plate with bacon sandwiches. "If it makes you feel any better," Leo whispered, "We'll burn their brooms if they, by any random miracle, do win." Louisa shot him a small, grateful smile and managed to eat half a dozen sandwiches before the Gryffindor team was ushered out.

After a week of intensive training, it had been decided that Louisa would be playing Seeker. 'Conveniently', Harry had 'hurt' his arm during the night and wouldn't be playing.

The only two up sides she could think of prior to walking onto the pitch was that she got to wear her favourite colour and use Harry's Firebolt.

Try and stay calm, Percy's words echoed in her mind. You get angry, you'll lose focus and give them a chance to win.

"Ready?" Fred- or George, she couldn't tell- grinned.

"I suppose so."

Cheers from three quarters of the stadium rained down, almost drowning out the disapproval of the Slytherin house.

"Captains, shake hands!" Wood glared at Flint as they obliged. Madam Hooch frowned, but said nothing. "Mount your brooms! Three… two… one!" Her whistle peeped shrilly and they were off, rising on a tide of whistles, screams and cold air.

Louisa didn't keep track of the commentary apart from the scores. Her main focus was finding the Snitch before that Malfoy brat did, she couldn't help but be distracted by the match warring on around her. Six times in the first ten minutes she was nearly flattened by a Bludger struck by an opposing Beater. Six times she had to recall her brother's warning and restrain herself from throttling said Beater until he went purple.

"You shouldn't even be on the team!" Louisa glared over her shoulder, recognising Malfoy's sneer. "You're not a student, filthy Muggle!"

"I feel insulted." She grumbled sarcastically, casting a wary eye around the pitch. Malfoy hovered closer. "Go away." She growled.

"Or what?" He challenged. That arrogant smirk was getting on her last nerve. "Nothing. You're a stupid Muggle, you can't do anything."

Before she realised what she was doing, she kicked out at him and, had he not grabbed wildly at his broom, he'd have fallen a hundred feet.

A whistle was blown, a penalty given to Slytherin. Malfoy looked even smugger and it took everything Louisa had not to smash his face against a brick wall until she saw his brain splatter against it…

Ooh, gold!

She dived, but Malfoy had seen the Snitch too. Cheers from all over the stadium egged them on. Malfoy fired a look of pure loathing at her. "I will not lose to a Muggle!" He rammed his shoulder into hers with enough force to knock her sideways. She clung to the broom, hanging upside down. Malfoy angered even more, ignoring the whistle and kicking at her.

A flash of gold danced in front of her. Holding on only by her hands, Louisa didn't have time to pull herself up. She swung forward, freeing a hand just as Malfoy kicked her squarely in the ribs and made his own grab for the Snitch.

She fell, the Firebolt veering off course, but she had the audacity to smirk.

Ten feet, fifteen, thirty… she twisted, the ground looming towards her.

She rolled as she hit the ground, her shoulder striking the stone wall as she collapsed from the wall. Stars danced across her vision, but she faintly heard Malfoy's infuriated yells.

Through the pain induced blur, the gold between her fingers glittered, silver wings fluttering reluctantly to a halt.

Despite the agony flaring in her shoulder and down her back, she stood and waved the Snitch in the air.

"In your face, Malfoy!" She called, laughing.

Three houses erupted into celebratory screams and seconds later, she was swamped by reds, blues and yellows.

It wasn't a real match, but having Slytherin lose had all the regular over-exuberance. And there were less people now scared of Louisa.

I know this isn't much, but it was my first idea. I have two or three more at the moment, hopefully I can get those up before I forget them.