So, I wanted to get this up before I went to camp. It hasn't been beta'd so there's bound to be at least a handful of mistakes. I hope you like it! Tell me what you think! I actually have 'The Prophecy of Fate' all written out for Harry in Gregor's world. All characters belong to their respective authors: Rick Riordan, Joann Rowling, and Suzanne Collins. They're all 'totally awesome'! Please let me know what you think. I love reviews!

Thanks,

Shadow Braqs TZW

P.S. I'll be replacing this with the edited version ASAP!

Gregor

"Gabe's gonna kill me," Sally murmured as she stuck her keys into the ignition of a shiny red Camaro and twisted. The vehicle rumbled as it came to life and the exhaust pipe began to exert the all too familiar black smoke. Sally swiveled in her seat and looked at the boys expectantly. Both Grover and Gregor had scrambled inside the Camaro and buckled themselves into the backseat. Grover hadn't stopped gaping at the brunette beside him since they'd pulled away from Manhattan and begun to speed away from the city.

"Is there a problem?" asked Gregor. There was a slight, unintentional bight to his tone; he genuinely wanted to know why the half-breed was staring at him like he was the one with hooves.

"Yes, actually, there is. Who, in the Gods name, are you?"

"Me? I'm Gregor." Grover gave a laugh that sounded more like a distressed sheep than any snicker he had ever heard. "What?" Gregor asked half offended.

"It's nothing. But you know Gregor and Grover sort of sound alike is all." Gregor looked at the red-head unblinkingly, cocking his head to the left. "It's stupid…I know…" Grover trailed off. He had turned tomato red.

"Ow," Sally had slammed on the brakes and came to a screeching halt in front of a rickety, old, red stoplight causing Gregor to lurch forward. He peeled his forehead off of the back of the passenger side seat and looked at Grover. "You mentioned a boy named Percy earlier…Who is he?" he asked hoping that maybe this Percy character had something to do with his waking up in another lad's place.

"Percy…He's…Well he's a guy who's very special…Very powerful, you see?" Grover was clearly struggling to explain anything to Gregor.

"No, not really," said Gregor impatiently.

"Look, I can't really tell you anything. Not yet. It…it wouldn't make any sense." Grover had pulled out a tuna can from the blue backpack that had been sitting in his lap. Gregor stared at him with disgust a he took a bite out of it. Shaking his head, Gregor looked away from the other boy and pressed his nose up against the window.

They'd driven onto some sort of long and winding road that was littered with potholes and road kill. Everywhere Gregor looked there were trees; oak, spruce, fir...every kind imaginable. It had begun to thunder and rain had come pouring down. Gregor noted the curious lack of lightning as Sally continued to fly around turns. Grover had begun to look a little green.

Gregor had wondered if the lightning had finally bothered to show up when he, Sally, and Grover went flipping into a ditch. Literally blasted off the road…he thought. For the second time that evening Gregor pulled his head away from the leather of the seat in front of him. Grover looked unconscious and Sally was frantically trying to get out of the car.

"What the hell just happened?" Gregor asked, trying to keep the fear out.

"No time," Sally said frantically. She finally had crawled out of the window like a NASCAR driver. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, Gregor. Get out, quickly," Pleaded Sally. Gregor did his best to obey, though his door had been jammed completely down into the mud. As soon as he'd gotten himself clear he'd gone back for Grover. Sally was impatiently tapping her foot and glancing around nervously, like she was expecting someone to be coming after them. There was an ominous low roar coming from a large clearing to their north. Gregor and Sally had both immediately whipped their heads around.

"What is that?" At first look Gregor had thought it was a freakishly tall, bulky man (like Kobe Bryant) with a really fuzzy hood. Upon closer examination, he realized that the man would have to be unrealistically large for it to be a human and that hood couldn't possibly be a hood at all; it had to be real hair.

"Minotaur." Sally breathed. She was panting a little which reminded Gregor a great deal of Lizzie whenever she panicked at home.

"Mino-what?" he knew what she meant but he didn't quite believe her.

"Minotaur. Now you need to go, it's you it'll be after. Do you see that hill over there?" she was pointing toward the start of the clearing that the monster had come from. At its summit there was a pine tree loftier than any Gregor had seen before.

"What about you?" Sally may not have been his mother but Gregor wasn't about to let her die.

"Look, you need to go. Take Grover and run. Once you get over that hill you'll be safe. This is the only way I'll get my son back. You have to go. If you ever want to see your own mother again…" That was all it took for Gregor.

He grabbed Grover who, up until that point, had been propped up against the car. Moving as quickly as he could whilst dragging the satyr by his cloven hooves; Gregor made his way towards the pine tree at the top of the hill. Grover had begun to moan something about food when the Minotaur locked its terrible sights on Gregor.

"Crap," he mumbled, Gregor knew he was in for something way over his head.

"Gregor, when it begins to charge, jump out of the way. It's hard for them to change directions once they've started!" Sally shouted from down the hill.

Grover seemed to have come to his senses, he was bleating incessantly about going to get help.

The Minotaur had begun to paw at the muddy forest floor, splaying wetted sod everywhere. It lowered its massive head so that the curved horns jutting from the crown of the hairy head were pointed straight at the ten-year-old boy's heart. Gregor almost completely froze up when it came running at him, he jumped out of the way just in time. The tip of the horn had just barely grazed the side of his face. Sticky red blood had begun to ooze from his cheek but Gregor was too shocked to feel the pain. After dodging a couple of more charges his good fortune had run out. Out of sheer luck the monster's horns hadn't punctured anywhere but Gregor had been knocked backwards. He hit the ground with great enough force to whip his head back onto a large piece of granite. If adrenaline hadn't been flowing through Gregor's veins just then he would not have been able to get back to his feet. Something happened in that moment; something that had never happened before. There was a roaring in his ears. His eyesight had splintered, allowing him to see the creature's weak spot. He'd lost all control of his body; he felt like he'd been possessed. Vaguely, Gregor remembered ripping a horn off of the Minotaur and driving it into its heart. There was a shower of golden light and Sally had disappeared as the dying bull-man had crumbled away. And then, all went black

Harry

A book that Harry had once overheard Petunia, his aunt, reading to Dudley, his cousin, was the first thing that had come to mind. It was about a little girl named Alice who'd fallen down a rabbit hole. She'd kept falling and falling until she'd found herself in a magical world. Harry attempted to recall the title of the story but he couldn't.

His mind began to wonder if he would ever hit the bottom. The plummet had seemed to stretch on for many minutes; Harry had come to terms with the fact that he was probably going to die. He hoped desperately that Boot hadn't fallen down here as well.

He shut his green eyes and awaited the deadly impact that was imminent. Harry felt his momentum decrease and wondered if he'd already hit the ground; if his death had been quick and he was moving on. He slowly opened his eyes, vastly hoping that he wouldn't see what he was expecting to.

What Harry saw wasn't at all what he thought he would. The silver wisps that had engulfed him at the surface of whatever hell he'd unfortunately been sucked into were even thicker than they had been. They were pushing him up; trying to resist the pull of gravity. Their attempts were futile, gravity was still winning. They had, however, managed to slow his descent.

When Harry's feet had finally settled onto a cool, smooth, hard surface the wisps dissipated. Since they'd been the only source of light during his fall, Harry found himself suffocating in the total darkness. He groped around frantically for the small sister of 'Gego' but she was nowhere to be found. Harry was positive that his endless fall down to this desolate underworld had been in vain, at least until he heard a mysterious clicking coming from somewhere in front of him.

Harry felt along the damp, rocky walls of the tunnel until he came to a slit in the stone. He managed to wriggle himself through the sliver of space which opened up to become a wide cavern. Harry was able to see again though the light was faint. The space was wide and the canopy was high and made of rugged black stone. Its walls were smoothed and the floor was even.

Consumed in studying his dimly lit surroundings, Harry didn't even notice the subtle tapping of tiny feet or the rhythmic skittering that followed. It wasn't until a small voice had mispronounced his name in the way that only a child could, did Harry notice his company.

"Meet Temp," said the little girl.

Harry resisted the urge to scream when he looked where Boots was pointing. The thing was unnaturally large which showed off the grotesque details of the creature that the naked eye couldn't see with on a normally sized one. It was a cockroach. And it was not the only one. There were many. Harry swallowed the cry of terror that had been welling in his lungs. If he let it out, Boots might become frightened too, which clearly she wasn't yet.

"And Tick, and Sec, and Min…" Boots continued to bombard Harry with many more names before she turned back to the bugs. "You being rude," she pouted. "Tick, Temp. Say hello," her short, stocky arms were crossed angrily in front of her chest.

The two roaches on either side of Boots in the front of the group opened there mouths and let out a series of clicks that resembled English. "Hello Overlander,"

"Overlander?" questioned Harry.

"You are from the world with the ever shining light?" chirped the roach on the left.

"You mean the sun?" Harry cocked his head curiously.

"We know not what it is called," cricked the roach on the right.

"Well, my name is Harry. Harry Potter," the boy informed them, not wanting to be referred to as 'Overlander' any longer. It sounded strange and alien. And it made Harry even more aware that he was hundreds or possibly even thousands of meters below the ground.

"Ar-we?" the roach on the left attempted.

"Har-wee," corrected Boots.

"No, Har-ry," he said slowly and pointedly.

There was a moment of silence before the roach on the right said, "Harry."

He nodded and looked around at the herd of cockroaches. Some were carrying torches whilst others had baskets strapped to their backs. Looking back and forth between the two roaches at the front Harry tried to recall their respective names. Was it Tick and Tock? Or was it Tempo and Rhythm? Finally Harry just turned to the one on the left.

"Where are you headed?" he asked hoping that they knew of a way out of the dismal darkness.

"Regalia," chirped the roach to Harry in response.

"It is the city of the Humans," chattered the right roach.

Harry sighed with relief. There were humans in the dank world of Under. "Can you take us to them?"

"We move quickly. The Princess may ride but you are too large, you must come on foot. If you can keep pace, then we may," said the left roach.

"Princess?" Harry knew that they had to be referring to Boots but he wanted to confirm. Sure enough one of the creatures bowed its antennae towards the toddler.

Keeping up was not going to be a problem for Harry. He'd spent ten years running away from his bully of a cousin. "Alright Boots. Climb up," he extended a hand that she ended up not needing.

"Ready Temp?" Boots asked after scrambling onto the back of the roach on the left. Harry wondered how she had been able to tell that roach from the next; they all looked identical. But before Harry had time to ponder the thought too deeply Temp had clicked:

"Yes, Princess,"

They scuttled the opposite direction of the slit Harry had come in from. At first the trip had been easy. The stone had been flat and the bugs had been travelling straight. That had begun to change approximately five minutes into the run. The surface had begun to jet up and down to form hills and valleys. The cockroaches had begun to make sharp turns. Just when Harry had thought he wouldn't be able to keep pace with his company they had stopped at a black veil covering a sort of doorway.

One by one the crawlies had squeezed through the barely-large-enough arch. When it was Harry's turn he realized that it wasn't a veil surrounding the entrance. They were butterflies. Or they were moths. Harry wasn't quite sure which; he couldn't remember the distinctions of the two species.

Squinting both of his emerald eyes Harry tried to adjust to the brightness of the huge chasm he'd just entered. Compared to sunlight the chamber was no competition. However, Harry had become familiar with the near pitch blackness he'd dealt with since arriving.

Harry looked down at his feet. He seemed to be standing on some sort of moss. It was quite springy and Harry had a feeling that it was supposed to be a substitute for grass. High above his head the pitch was ringed with bleachers. The bleachers were full of extremely pale, white-haired people. They were all cheering and for a split second Harry thought that the cheers were meant for him, but then he noticed that a flock of birds were flying around. A ball went soaring from one of the birds to the other and Harry realized that there had to be people riding the birds. At least, he assumed they were birds. He came to see that they were far from aviaries. They were bats.

"Quidditch," Harry mumbled. He didn't know where the world had come from nor did he have a clue as to what it meant. He simply knew that whatever was happening over top of him reminded him of something. Like something from a dream that he couldn't quite recall.