Quick note: This is my first story and I really don't know too much about writing Harry Potter or Percy Jackson fanfiction because they belong to J. K. Rowling and Rick Riordan respectively. I would like a LOT of feedback because I want to write this for fun but I need to know how everyone else thinks the flow of the story is going. I appreciate any criticism but haters can keep hating. Again I do not own Harry Potter or Percy Jackson because there is so many things I would change if I did, but that's not me hating on the stories I love the Harry Potter books and was able to read all of them, even though it was a while ago, and Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief was a great book. I unfortunately didn't get to read the rest of the series yet and won't for some time.

This originally started as a response to a challenge by AlphaLycan2001, but the challenge has since been rescinded.

Just the Prologue for now because depending on what everyone thinks I may just write my own story later. I want to Thank AlphaLycan2001 for the prompt that made me want to write this. So don't forget to reply. I have already had to do some major revision to the chapter, I am so sorry to my readers who had to put up with my writing when I was low on caffeine and mostly on my way to comatose.

The Son of Three

Prologue

In an uncharted location in Scotland, only known to those special few, sits an old castle. This castle was once a great place of learning that has been host to great minds. The once glorious monolith now shows the wear and tear of recent battle, with broken battlements and the scattered masonry of its once strong walls. In all it is a sad sight to look upon this day. Those few that loiter now seem lost, for how does one go about cleaning up a battlefield, and picking up the pieces of their broken lives? The expressions aging their faces are those of immeasurable sorrow.

Long after night has fallen. In the walls of the battered castle on a small bed rest the figure of a Savior. In truth it is the figure of a boy who was a man long before he was a child. The expectations of an entire world can be a weighty thing, and perhaps if the boy could tell his woe to the Titan Atlas he would commiserate. Such expectations are great and terrible things that boil the seas and shake the earth, and give men the power of gods or cause profound despair. Prophesy is the expectation of which the young man found himself the bearer of.

He was prophesied the slayer of his foe and that day finally came, and he was victorious! Oh what immense joy should be felt on this day, feasts and celebrations for weeks, even months? But how could one celebrate when the life of the Hero is still in dire peril?

*Break*

Harry Potter was slowly coming back to consciousness. His mind felt like it was swimming through molasses but he was becoming aware of his surroundings. The first things he noticed were the odd feeling of sitting up and the fact he didn't hear anyone. He was sure the last thing he remembered was the battle at Hogwarts and defeating Voldemort but nothing after that. 'I probably fainted,' he thought, 'but then I should be in the hospital wing. Why am I sitting up instead of lying in bed?'

Slowly he opened his eyes, having to blink a few times due to the light but it wasn't harsh. He was soon able to see that he wasn't anywhere he remembered. It was a place that looked like a family library or study perhaps. His gaze found six strong oak bookshelves with a myriad of books. The plush wingback chair he sat in was soft brown leather and faced a somewhat daunting fireplace. The pitch black marble fireplace had beautiful depictions of angels on either side but they seemed better suited for a graveyard. Even though the flames of the low fire were warm it still put Harry ill at ease. The carpet under his feet that was the color of rich, red wine was plush and warm. The rest of the seating including a small settee and another wingback chair were placed around the fireplace as well.

Lost in his perusal of the room he didn't notice when he spoke out loud. "Where am I, because this is defiantly not Hogwarts?"

Suddenly a kind musical voice spoke, "Well…technically you would be nowhere, and yet everywhere."

Harry will never admit it to anyone not present at that time, but he jumped. He jumped with enough force to move the chair as he wiped his head around to search for the source of the voice. He was almost completely turned around when he saw the source of the voice, more specifically her because there was no mistaking the ample curves of the figure from only five feet away. It took a minute for him to take in the woman. She wore a black dress that was knee length with sleeved puffed out at the shoulders that ended in ruffled cuffs at the wrist. Thick, white hair cascaded down her back and past the hem of her dress to mid-calf. In contrast to her ivory locks, her face held an ageless quality. When Harry finally looked at her eyes his heart stopped and his breathing ceased. Unlike the rest of her that seemed out of time and somewhat unnatural her eyes where green, but not just any green. It was the same green as the eyes that stared back at Harry every time he looked in the mirror.

"Who are you?" Harry was a little surprised he had the breath to ask his question, but was happy that his body seemed to remember how to breathe as he spoke.

A small and gentile smile pulled at the woman's full lips as she gazed softly at Harry. "Don't you know me already Master? I am Death."

Author Note: Thanks to my readers, and please tell me how I did. I'm sorry for the cliff hanger. For those that are like "What this story isn't about mythological gods." I reply "Well, not yet!" Chapter one will be more in-depth about what's actually happened before Death whisked Harry away to some unknown place, and the mythology stuff will come in then. This is currently un-betaed so if anyone could help a writer out by volunteering, I would send out air hugs every day :) I also have to warn everyone that this is a work in progress and chapter uploading will be random.