Dies Irae

Prologue

This chapter isn't edited in any way, shape, or form. If ya' see a mistake, please help a guy out an me. Thank ya!

Disclaimer: I don't own HP, PJO, or any of its wonderful characters.

Warnings: Rushed writing. Some angsty themes. MOD!Harry. Phoenix!Harry. Very loose canon.

A/N: I tried many times in the past to create a crossover between Harry Potter and Percy Jackson, but nothing ever really stuck. I never felt that inspired with it. But then, I've recently been listening to the PJO and Hadestown musicals on repeat for a while and decided to hell with it, why not?

This doesn't really aim to do anything, other than buckling up and enjoying the ride. Wherever it might go, lmao.

So, with that, I hope you enjoy!

[Edited 11/8/19. Thank you hachinonana! :']

Dies Irae [Day of Wrath]; a Latin hymn that serves a motif of death in musical compositions.

Hades was angry.

Harry watched bemused from his spot in Hades' throne room in the Underworld, a little comfy couch he conjured up the first few days being there. Hades was pacing a trench into the floor, shadows growing and clawing from his feet as he angrily hissed ancient Greek under his breath. It was an amusing and slightly unnerving scene to witness, and Harry glanced at Persephone in order to gauge if he should be worried or not.

Persephone was idly reading a springtime magazine, flipping through the laminated pages with minute interest.

A loud snarl reverberated the room, as Hades' frustration finally crested and he flickered with godly power. It only lasted for a moment before he calmed himself down again, and stormed the floor with even more tension than before.

To be fair—Harry settled back into his seat. It didn't take a lot for Hades to become angry.

Perhaps it was because of the recent meeting he went to, the one in Olympus. It was the winter solstice, and Hades had seemed reluctant to go meet with the other gods and goddesses. After a few days, he came back hissing and spitting, much to Persephone's and Harry's bemusement.

Speaking of which, both the goddess and Harry met eyes. There was a moment of tension between them before Persephone heaved a slight sigh and put aside her magazine, smoothing her chiton down as she gazed at her husband.

"Hades, my dear, what seems to be the matter?" Persephone inquired, gentle and cautious as one should be when dealing with an angry Hades. Hades didn't seem to acknowledge her as he continued his angry pacing and muttering under his breath, which caused Persephone to give an annoyed huff. "Hades," she tried again.

"What." Hades gritted out, stopping to give her a wild, almost feral, stare. Persephone was unphased.

"You've been in a bad mood ever since you came back," Persephone stated. "Young Harry and I would simply like to know why." At the mention of Harry, Hades' attention snapped to him; Harry raised his hands defensively, smiling wanly.

"And to help, if we are able," Harry finished, because Persephone pointedly did not say that. Hades' intense glare didn't falter, as he continued to stare for a moment more—as if gauging Harry's sincerity. At last, he let out a low grunt and glanced away, resuming to pace at a much more sedated speed than before.

"My symbol of power was stolen," Hades revealed, blunt and oh so angry. His voice was quiet, though it carried so much intensity that it still somehow reverberated in Harry's head. "It was stolen during the Winter Solstice Council, around the same time my brother's," he spat the word," was stolen."

It took a few seconds for the information to process, and Harry blinked. Woah, woah, woah—Hade's Helm of Darkness was stolen? He knew about Zeus's Lightning Bolt, considering Persephone liked to gossip to him at times, but Hades' symbol of power was stolen too?

"Oh no," Persephone gasped, hand covering her mouth. Despite her minute interest earlier, she appeared wholly concerned now. Harry could understand, because one does not simply do that to gods. Especially Olympian gods.

"Do they know?" Harry questioned, causing Hades to send him a sour look.

"They will not help me. So no, they do not know," Hades said nastily, anger seemingly to churn the shadows growing around him. Despite not really being afraid, Harry still felt a tremble run under his skin, clawing at his throat, the more he stared at the angry god. "I shall take care of this myself."

Persephone frowned. "Is that really wise?"

"Do you doubt my judgement?" Hades gritted his teeth, causing Persephone to recoil and quiet. Harry watched warily. "I can, and will, handle this situation myself. My furies have already been sent out, along with various others, to help search for it, and the culprit." Harry hummed, flopping back onto his couch and wondering why someone would steal Hades' Helm, especially alongside Zeus's thunderbolt.

For power? Stupidity? Greed? Stupidity?

Harry was surprised when he found himself in this world, a world where gods and goddesses existed. Especially Greek gods and goddesses, where a lot of Greek myths with a bunch of tragic and ironic morals existed—if there was one running theme Harry noted, it was that one doesn't piss off the gods and goddesses because they were petty.

And this seemed like a great way to piss off two of the most powerful gods.

"I can help too, if you want," Harry offered, picking at a random thread on his shirt. Hades narrowed his eyes at him, causing Harry to offer him a slight smile. "What are friends for?" His smile widened when Hades' expression soured even more; it shouldn't have been as amusing as it was.

"We're not friends," Hades snapped.

"You're right," Harry replied gravely. He gave a shit-eating smirk afterwards. "We're besties."

With a snarl of anger, Hades shot a bolt of darkness towards him. Harry laughed, even as he threw himself back in a fiery apparition, and his couch was swallowed up and destroyed by impenetrable shadows. Harry appeared beside Hades, who was breathing heavily and staring at the place where Harry's couch once stood.

Taking pity on the god, Harry tried to put as much sincerity as he could into his next words. "I tease, lord Hades, but I do mean it—I am willing to help," he said, causing Hades to turn towards him with a furrow in between his brows. It was lucky that both Hades and Persephone were mortal height nowadays, for some reason—Harry liked to think it was to make it easier to communicate with him, because he couldn't change size like they could.

Emphasis on couldn't, as opposed to their opinions on him just choosing not to.

While they didn't know exactly what he was, they did know he was an immortal being. Appearing out of ash and fire, alongside being in his animagus form, had left quite the impression on them. As it was, they were basing his powers and abilities off of their own, and seeing as of that they could change size and height—well, Harry was sad to admit that he had no such abilities.

Not that he would tell them—it would open up a topic of what he could do, then, and that wasn't something Harry was willing to spill about anytime soon.

"Do you even know how to traverse the mortal world?" Persephone mused, as she picked up her magazine yet again. She played with the corner of it, as she observed him. "You appeared so recently, and have yet to leave the Underworld in that time." If Harry was feeling optimistic, he'd say she was worried. Then again, they also didn't really know how old he was as well; in their eyes, he was probably only a few months compared to their thousands.

That is, if they assumed that he was born right then and there. That's a thing with the gods, apparently—Harry heard that gods and goddesses were born knowing what they wanted, could take on the form of a grown adult right away if they so wished. So, it wasn't improbable to think that that was their assumption, no matter how absurd it was to Harry.

Because, for all he cared, Harry was far older than he ever wished to be.

"How hard could it be?" Harry replied with a shrug, shaking off his bitter thoughts. He sauntered back over to where his previous couch was, and conjured up a new one from an old penny he had in his back pocket. With a satisfied sigh, he dropped back into it. "I mean, it's not like they'll see anything they don't wanna see."

People could be oblivious, and would most likely justify their own perceptions of the world than automatically assume Harry was anything different than them. Harry wasn't different them, he was… human, human as his forced title would allow.

What a depressing thought.

"The Mist shall help obscure you from the mortals sight, but other beings will not be so blind," Persephone advised, still critical. Harry gave her an indulgent and wide smile, not the least bit worried. It wasn't like he could die, and he simply didn't care enough about himself to be worried about what others could do to him.

"As it appears, I'm the least of people's concerns," Harry waved a flippant hand, dragging his attention back to Hades. Hades had stopped pacing, staring at him with a contemplative look. "Who will care for one little bird?"

Bird—no matter if it was a phoenix.

Persephone let out a little scoff. "A phoenix, not just a mere bird. A phoenix, a creature that hasn't been around for thousands of years." She bit her lip, obvious displeased. Her eyes shifted forward and back, before settling on him. "Your sudden appearance now, it must only mean," she cut off herself off, pressing her eyes closed.

Harry was almost tempted to roll his eyes. Gods, and their dramatics—he knew what a phoenix symbolized, rebirth. And in a time of turmoil, his sudden appearance had to be an omen for something. Harry didn't really care much for it, considering he was a human first before he was a phoenix.

An odd human, an unfortunate one at that, but human nonetheless.

"Enough," Hades declared, decisive. His eyes were hard and on Harry, who cocked his head slightly. The god looked very shrewd. "If you want to help so much, I don't deny you this." Harry perked up slightly, even as Hades leaned forward threateningly. "But don't dare disappoint me with this, young Harry."

The same looming and ominous power that seemed to radiate from the god seemed to seep the room, blanketing over Harry as a threat. Hardly feeling threatened, Harry gave the god a slight smile and a lazy salute.

"Yessir."

-0-0-0-

The mortal world was modern and familiar.

It gave Harry a headache.

It felt familiar and yet not to the wizard. The magical world wasn't exactly up to date with the latest architecture when he was still there, but the rest of civilization was. This world seemed to be around the same advancements, with its sprawling cities and electricity powered infrastructures. There was also the feeling of something more lurking in the air, something along the lines of magic, it seemed to be almost alive in how things interacted and appeared.

But it wasn't magic.

It was gods, and their presence in the world.

It was like someone smudged his old glasses and placed them on his head, leaving Harry incredibly frustrated and confused. The world and the people were familiar, but they weren't right. The world didn't feel right to him. And Harry knew it, because it wasn't his, the one where he lived out the first half of his life as the boy-who-lived and everything that came after.

The phoenix in him soothed an upcoming anxiety rush, flooding his limbs with warmth and an unspoken song. Harry took a deep breath and melted into the crowd as he flared out his senses, hoping to get a feel for the world before he really began to look for Hades' Helm.

But perhaps a hot chocolate before that would be good.

(Chocolate was good for soothing hurt.)

-0-0-0-

They had found a lead, from one of Hades' furies.

A kid named Percy Jackson, and the moment his description was delivered, Hades lost it. Harry had to flash out of the room in a panic, Persephone following immediately afterwards. Both of them stood stock-still in the hall as they listened to Hades roar and shout in anger, the whole underworld seemingly about to crumble in on itself due to it.

Harry let out an impressed whistle. "Man, he is shook."

"Harry," Persephone insisted, giving him a wide-eyed look. Harry paused at that, unsure, because Persephone never looked so panicked. As a goddess, she rarely had to panic much, especially because she was Hades' spouse and queen.

If anything really made her upset, it would make Hades upset.

(No one really wanted to deal with an upset Hades.)

"What?" Harry blinked, as Persephone began to pace anxiously. Both of them startled at the sound of something crashing inside the throne room, before they glanced at each other again. "Is something the matter with this Jackson kid? I'd figure you guys would be thrilled to find the culprit."

Never mind that it was a kid, but that was another story. Harry figured if they knew what they were doing, they were prepared for the consequences.

"It's not only that, but from what I gather," Persephone worried her lower lip, smoothing her chiton down. "It could be the son of the sea." Her words were soft, even Harry had to strain to hear it. "Harry," she urged, as if hoping for the young wizard to grasp the meaning behind it.

Harry didn't. He was very confused.

"There is a prophecy concerning the children of the big three," Persephone finally gave in with a cry, throwing her hands up in frustration. Harry blinked again at her. "That one of their children alone will decide the entire fate of Olympus. This is horrible—"

The throne doors were thrown open then, to reveal a seething Hades.

"He broke his oath. First Zeus, now him? My brothers are pathetic," Hades snarled, seemingly to vent his frustrations at them. Persephone murmured a hasty agreement, even as Harry shrugged. Hades spat out more insults in Ancient Greek, which were quite colorful considering the slight widening of Persephone's eyes and faint blush of ichor on her ears.

Harry mused over the meaning of it all.

A prophecy…?

What an ugly word, he decided. He hated them with a passion, because prophecies usually didn't always come true. One man in his old lifetime were particularly fond of them, however, orchestrating one to life just for sliver of a chance at defeating Voldemort.

But he didn't know about this world, with their prophecies. With their Fates, who seemingly intertwined the fabric of this universe in their very knitting needles. (Knitting needles! Harry laughed himself silly when Hades recounted that to him, much to the god's annoyance.)

Apparently, this Percy Jackson kid was the son of Poseidon. One of the big three, and seemingly already chose the path he was going on. Harry hummed, watching the god and goddess he was in company of prattle on and on in Ancient Greek. Persephone was attempting to comfort the god of the underworld, barely managing it by the looks of Hades' curled fists and flickering form.

From what Harry gathered, Zeus already had a kid before this one. One they didn't really seemed concerned about, which must mean that they were probably 'dealt' with and thus, not a concern. Harry tried not to think of the implications of that much, beyond realizing that they were very much trying to prevent this prophecy coming into play.

Wasn't that a common theme in Greek tragedies?

The hero tries to prevent his fate, like Oedipus, only making it come into play by doing so. Harry couldn't help but internally scoff in disbelief; he figured that they would have learned something from the past, but it doesn't appear so.

"Harry," Hades' voice brought Harry out of his musings, making him straighten from his slouch against the corridor wall to peer curiously at the god. He didn't seem any more calm, a dangerous gleam in his eyes, an edge to his rough voice. "Go watch over the sea brat's mother."

Sea brat? Harry tilted his head. "His mother? Why?"

Hades huffed, already turning from him to stalk down the corridor. Persephone had left just moments ago, rushing towards the gardens in order to find a soothing type of flower to make tea with. "As a precaution. It appears that he loves his mother very much, and if he won't give me my helm willingly, then," he paused, even as Harry felt dread pool in his stomach.

Hades cast him a listless glance from over his shoulder.

"Then, I guess we'll just have to make him then."

Harry blanched, though Hades didn't see. Harry was left standing alone in the corridor, torn and slightly bitter. He was reminded once again that these were gods, and gods hardly held much compassion for anything when they were angry.

Ah. What a mess.

-0-0-0-

Harry wondered if the kid knew.

If he loved his mother so much, you would think he wouldn't be willing to put her in such danger for stealing godly weapons left and right. Harry decided to drop by Yancy Academy for a quick investigation, carefully avoiding the placed fury there and just observing.

His conclusion wasn't satisfying:

Percy Jackson had no idea.

What a mess.

-0-0-0-

Harry was pretty lax about a lot of things nowadays. It came with the territory of world hopping, of living far longer than he had ever expected. It came with every bitter breath and roiled deep under his skin, an annoying itch that Harry couldn't scratch.

But the one thing Harry was never careless about was injustice.

Punishing a kid, who was by all rights innocent, didn't sit right with him.

(His hero-complex was fucking annoying.)

It would take some moving behind the scenes, careful thinking, and some effort and faith on his part, but Harry figured he could help as much as he could. While he hardly ever hoped to stop something that was very much in motion from happening, he could at least help lessen the impact. Help the kid shoulder the storm that was about to hit him, because he was still just a kid who didn't know what was going on.

Maybe even…

Maybe be the kind of person Harry needed when he was younger.

-0-0-0-

He wasn't projecting. He wasn't.

-0-0-0-

First things first: the mother.

Sally Jackson was a lovely woman, from what Harry observed. He was predisposed to think highly of her, because she was the woman who managed to make Poseidon break an oath. Made him fall for her, enough to risk the ire of his brothers and the prophecy, willing to risk it to have a child with her. She had to be amazing, right?

Harry thought she was a bit plain, but lovely. Normal, loving towards her son from how often they sent each other letters. Maybe perhaps wistful, with how she often took detours to and from work to stare out at sea.

Like Percy, she didn't know what was happening with the gods. With the Lightning Bolt, and Hades' Helm. At the very least, she didn't know much, the full extent of it. There was a paranoid line of tension in her shoulder at the storm that seemingly hung over Manhattan permanently, every angry gust of wind; her eyes flickered to the sky often enough with worry tugging at her mouth.

She was right to be worried.

Harry decided to bite the bullet and talk with her.

If he wanted to help, they needed to be aware that he was willing to help. Otherwise, they could possibly reject it without knowing that Harry meant no harm. At the very least, help them as much as he was able.

Sally had just gotten off of work, and Harry had followed her. He cast silent charms here and there, thinning out the people around them until they were alone in a subway stairwell. She seemed to know he was there, because she had whirled on him the moment they were alone with wide-eyes and slightly bared teeth.

"Who are you, and why are you following me?"

Harry gave her a guileless smile, even as he silently cast yet another charm. This time, a notice-me-not charm on the stairwell. It should give them enough privacy for them to speak.

"My name is Harry," Harry greeted, pulling out a chocolate bar he had taken from her work. Sally eyed him suspiciously. He began to pull off the wrapper. Sally gritted her teeth, adjusting her grip on her bag and sighing.

"Okay," she hedged. "Now, what do you want?"

"It's about your son." Harry stated as cautiously as he could, taking a bite out of his chocolate bar with a clean snap. Sally stiffened, her head snapping towards him with wide eyes. He gave her an assuring smile, pushing as much warmth into it as he could. "It isn't threatening or anything, but…curious."

"There is nothing to be curious about," Sally bit out, coldly. "He is my son, and no one else's."

"I just want to know if he knows or not," Harry sighed. "Because there is a war brewing, and people are already looking at him because they believe he is the cause. The more honestly you can answer me, the faster I can try and persuade one of the forces to lay off of him."

Sally's expression was cold and impassive as she surveyed him, mouth pressed into a thin, tight line. Harry sighed again, giving her a wan smile—this somehow made her waver a bit, expression crumpling just a little.

"No," she managed to rasp out, tightly coiled despair lingering underneath her words. "Please, I can't—no." Sally shook her head, biting her lip and glancing away from him. Her eyes were suspiciously starting to get wet, and Harry felt something sympathetic stir in his chest.

A mother wants to protect her child, by any means necessary. Harry understood that, he really did—he, of all people, could understand that. Even now, he could still hear the remnants of his own mother's pleas and begs to let him live in quiet moments, things that will forever haunt and subtly soothe him.

Still.

"We both know prolonging the inevitable isn't going to help him," Harry said sternly, making Sally wince. He softened his voice. "I'm not saying that you're wrong for wanting to do so, but things are beyond our control. I'm trying to help." Sally stared at him, devastated.

"He doesn't know," she finally admitted, though it seemed to break her heart even more saying it. Sally shuddered and staggered a bit, pressing herself against the stairway wall for support. She covered her mouth and heaved a few breaths, blinking rapidly. "What's happening?"

Harry glanced away, up towards the ceiling. "Someone stole two of the big three's symbols of power. It wasn't his father," he said ambiguously, doing his best to not invoke both of the gods' names. Sally took a moment to process this, before her eyes widened.

"Do they think Percy did this?" Sally sounded mortified. "He—no. No! He doesn't know! He's innocent. I swear to gods, he's innocent," she snarled, fists curling at her sides. Harry shot her a look, making her quiet a bit, staring balefully at the ground. She sniffed. "He's only 12," she admitted, voice breaking a bit.

He's just a kid.

Harry really felt for the kid, and for his mom. It reminded him so much of his childhood, it almost ached. "I'll do my best to help," he resolved, making Sally glance at him. Disbelief and slightly hopeful, and he responded with a wan smile. "No one deserves the wrath of the gods, especially if they're a kid. And especially if they're innocent." Sally gave him a bleak smile.

"Who are you, even?" Sally ventured to ask, after a few moments of tense silence. There was still a raw ache in her voice, as she clutched her hands in front of her in self-comfort. "Are you a god?"

"I am not," Harry denied. He gave a slight shrug. "I'm not a god, but I'm not a mortal either." Sally eyed him warily, making him smile at her. "But I'm willing to help, is that not enough?" Sally gave a bitter laugh at this, shaking her head helplessly.

"Gods," Sally sighed, rubbing at her face tiredly. Both of them pointedly ignored her suspiciously wet eyes, and the slight tremble that ran through her body. "Percy," she murmured, voice full of regret and adoration, despair cottoned in the name. "He doesn't—I still don't want him to know."

At this, Harry raised an eyebrow. "Don't you think he deserves to?"

Sally had nothing to say to this.

Because, Percy will find out one day. It was in his blood, in this weird prophecy—Harry knew that while he was bitter at his own upbringing, at Dumbledore's careful molding before he was even born, it was better than not to be prepared. Especially if you didn't have a say in it, and the best you could do was to gear up and hope for the best—yes, Percy would no doubt appreciate it if he found out the truth sooner rather than later.

Especially if he could find a home in Camp Halfblood. Hogwarts was still Harry's home, in the friendships and the memories he made there—it helped soothe the ache of it all.

"I'll walk you home," Harry offered, lessening the charm around the stairwell that prevented others from coming through. Sally numbly nodded, eyes firmly on the ground. It was silent as they walked up, the icy frost slick underneath their feet.

Observing her profile, her slow and muffled steps—Harry narrowed his eyes slightly at the slight bruising peaking from her scarf, on her neck. A flare of righteous anger and disgust curled tightly in his gut, but he reigned it back with a slow inhale and exhale. Seeing her shiver, Harry cast a silent warming charm on her, making her blink.

"Did you-?" Sally seemed shaken out of her daze, peering curiously at him.

Harry gave her a slight grin. "You seemed cold." Sally nodded slowly at this, averting her gaze—she also seemed uncomfortable. Harry rubbed at his nose nervously. "Also," Harry reached forward, ignoring her stiffening, and trailed his fingers along her neck.

With a bit of push and pull of his magic, the faint phoenix song that always hummed under his skin rising a bit—Sally recoiled, slapping a hand to her neck and stammering a bit. Harry just grinned, licks of phoenix fire lilting from his finger to wisp away in the brisk winter breeze.

"W-what?" Sally breathed.

"I healed you," Harry explained, tilting his head slightly. He softened his expression then at her disbelieving expression, an wan smile playing on his lips. "I'm not only here to help Percy, ya' know?" If he was here, he'll help whoever he wants to help.

And he couldn't really help it—his hero complex still lurked in his shadows, in his bones, coming up to strangle him at the oddest times. Plus, a mother struggling to protect her son—it was more than admirable, reminding Harry of his own mother.

Sally's eyebrows furrowed, expression scrunched up. "Thanks," she bit out, still a bit shaken. "I—, thanks," she muttered, keeping her gaze firmly away from him. Harry shrugged, glancing upwards at the dark winter sky above them and the muted crowd surrounding them. "You are all the same," Sally finally seemed to find the words.

Harry cocked his head to the side, curiously.

He knew she'd be mad, rightfully so—he did just invade her privacy, healed her of her abuse that she didn't want anyone knowing about, without asking. Still, if no harm was done, Harry didn't see the problem in it—he had always lived by the rule that it's better to ask for forgiveness than permission, after all.

At Harry's bemused look, Sally shook her head helplessly. "Just butting into other people's problems," she explained, before blanching slightly. She flushed. "Not that I'm ungrateful! It's just—you didn't need to do it," I didn't want you to, was the underlying message. Her voice was beyond tired, but still carried an edge to it.

It was obvious she didn't want Harry to be angry with her.

To be fair—Harry thought back to Hades, in his dark ominous fury that shook the underworld. He thought of all the stories he remembered about Greek mythology. Sally was justified to be worried about angering anyone she thought to be a part of the Greek pantheon.

Harry obviously wasn't one of them, but she didn't know that.

"I'm sorry," Harry apologized, making Sally stop in her tracks and blink at him. Harry gave her a slight smile. "I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable." He did mean to heal her, though—Sally swallowed, giving him a slight nod. "Why stay with him, though?"

"Who? Gabe?" Sally let out a bitter chuckle. "He—he helps protect Percy."

Harry wrinkled his nose. That drunk bastard? With the drinking, the gambling, the overall sense of disgusting greed on the man—Harry swore he could just smell it kilometers awa- oh. Harry hummed in understanding. No doubt, his smell would cover up any godly scent Percy emitted.

Once again, Harry felt a pang of sympathy.

The things mothers go through just to protect their children. The rest of the walk was silent, a slow but steady shuffle of their feet over the icy sidewalk. People walked past them, unknowing and uncaring—Harry always liked cities, despite being horrendously crowded and noisy. He was just another faceless being in the crowd, a place he could just melt in the background and not be bothered.

When they stopped in front of her apartment block, Harry hesitated. At last, he conjured up one of his phoenix feathers. With a slight murmur, he presented it to a confused Sally. She eyed it warily, taking it between the pinch of her index finger and thumb.

"Thank you?" Sally raised her eyebrows.

Harry grinned. "Keep it on you, and it shall protect you. If you need any help from me, whether it be from others or monsters—just call upon it, and I shall be summoned." Sally's eyes widened, and her hand fisted over the soft feather. "Though, if you want to call for a chat or something, I won't mind either," he continued with a boneless shrug.

"Thank you," Sally repeated, more sincerely. "Thank you."

Harry waved her off, and watched as she darted inside the apartments. He stood there in silence for a moment, feeling the light snow settle upon him. A restless yet content feeling lingered with him, and he couldn't help but laugh a bit helplessly.

He had a feeling that he wouldn't be seeing her without her son.

With her son, and the trouble that came along with it.

-0-0-0-

Harry had a sixth sense for these types of things.

Because he was once the one tossed into improbable situations. It was eerie to see himself in Percy, a scruffy kid who had no idea what was happening, or what might happen. A prophecy hung like a damp and heavy blanket over his head, threatening to suffocate him, and he didn't even know.

Gods and other forces have been talking of killing him.

For something he had no idea about. No control.

Harry peered at Percy as he trudged along the campus of the school he was currently attending. Apparently, this was one of his newer ones, having been kicked out of all his previous ones. He was perched in a tree, with a little notice-me-not charm obscuring him from view.

A couple of Percy's classmates bypassed him, obviously giving him a side-look and laughing. Percy shot them an affronted glare, jaw clenched; it took his best friend, and satyr, Grover Underwood rushing to him to keep him from starting something. Harry could only snort slightly in amusement.

A spike of killing intent made the demigod and satyr shudder, and hustle inside Yancy Academy. Harry could only roll his eyes at one of Hades' furies, Alecto. She was leaning against the tree he was perched in, sticking to him the moment he appeared for some reason.

Harry figured she might be jealous that he was trying to out-do her, for Hades' favor.

Releasing the notice-me-not charm for a brief moment, he swooped lower to her. He sang the equivalent of, 'take a chill pill!', at her. Alecto sneered at him, her mortal form having too many sharp teeth to be considered such.

With a flash of flames, Harry stood next to her in his regular form as well. "Have no fear, Lord Hades' best friend is here," he mocked, just to see Alecto snarl and hiss at him. He smiled. "I'm trying not to draw attention to me, but I can't really do it when you hang around like that." With a shooing motion, he tried to get her to go away. "I can't spy in peace if you bug me like this."

"I have it under control," Alecto snapped. "So you can go."

"Yes, yes, you have it under control, great job and all," Harry sighed, leaning against the tree as well. Alecto immediately pushed herself off of it, to get away from him. He gave her a slight pout at that, relishing in her irritated snort. "That doesn't mean I can't sit here and watch, can I?"

Alecto scoffed. "I can't really do that when you hang around like that," she mocked, throwing Harry's words back into his face. His expression dropped to deadpan, making her smile meanly. "I already have that damned centaur here to make a mess of everything. You'll just be in the way."

"Damned centaur?" Harry mused curiously. Chiron, the trainer of heroes—of course, he arrived at the beginning of the semester in light of Alecto arriving. The world around them murmured in turmoil, the gods restless, and Harry took a moment to feel the balance of the world roil just a bit under his skin.

"Leave." It seemed like Alecto was done humoring him, sending him a dark glower as she walked away. He heard her mutter under her breath as she did so, something akin to, "and stay away, if you know what's good for ya'."

It was hilarious.

What was she, five? Harry stifled his amusement by coughing, before transforming yet again into his Animagus form. With another subtle charm cast on his person (person? Birdson?), he flew over campus and settled on a tree near Percy's dorm window. He watched the boy collapse on his bed, Grover nervously steepling his fingers together and trying to assure him of something.

In all honesty, it felt like watching an upcoming train wreck. Harry had no right, however, to interfere with how this world worked and the people in it beyond the bare minimum (which he was doing). Especially if something like the Fates were in control, who didn't take lightly to purposely altering it to avoid or prevent them.

Only mortals could change fate, and Harry? Harry, as human as he was (wished to still be-), was still beyond mortal comprehension. A wizard? Unheard of in this world. Master of Death? Also unheard of. If anyone were to ask Harry, he'll just tell them that he was just Harry.

And to be Harry, was to be unfortunate.

(Harry was also not really a part of this world, so he had no right to interfere. If anything, he was little more than a glorified tourist, courtesy of Death.)

It seemed to be the same way with Percy. A kid with a prophecy, a kid with a mom who was willing to do anything for him, a kid who didn't know what was going on. Harry couldn't help but empathize with Percy, who was currently laughing with his best friend as Grover acted out something.

Harry would take his leave for now, feeling Alecto's growing stifled anger across campus. But before that, the phoenix fire in him yearned, churning hotly in his core. He was always weak to his instincts in this form, and he didn't see no harm in it:

He sang a sad yet hopeful tune for Percy Jackson.

(It was quite a good melody, too; it was a shame Percy couldn't hear it.)

-0-0-0-

It was a stormy night when he was finally called.

Help my son. Please, help my son.

A desperate cry from a desperate mother. Harry appeared in in flames, settled in a large oak tree that served as a barrier to Camp Halfblood. Sally, Percy, and Grover were making a mad dash towards the camp. He sang an encouraging song, making them glance wildly at him. Sally's mouth parted in surprise, even as Grover gave a shocked choking sort of noise.

Percy ruined the silent awe he always accumulated in this form. "W-what is that? A chicken?"

Harry was almost tempted to trip him for that. If only he wasn't so amused by it, because seriously? Sally shook her head, even as Grover urged them along faster. "Th-this is good! It's good! A phoenix is a sign of good omen. We- we-" The satyr was cut off by an angry roar behind them.

Harry watched as the minotaur was on its way.

The rumble from beneath the earth, and the lightning in the sky indicated that the gods were watching. Harry cast a little glance around, cooing slightly. Sally and Percy were arguing beneath the tree he was in, at the barrier.

Sally was mortal, and she could not enter.

Hades did mention using Sally as a sort of motivation for the demigod. Harry watched anxiously as the monster neared. He could—yes, he could. It would save Percy a lot of grief if he did, and it could appear that he really was taking her away from him as an act of making her a hostage.

Percy wasn't willing to save himself if he was too worried for his mom. So taking the mom out of the question seemed logical enough.

So right when the Minotaur was about to grab Sally, he apparated towards her and flooded the clearing with his flames. He urged the fire to encourage the young demigod, even as the monster reared away from the sheer heat. Phoenix fire burned in a way that wasn't physical, and seeing as of that the minotaur was made of myth and dust—

Harry only took in dark satisfaction as its roar of pain, even as he lulled Sally to sleep and swept her away. As the last of his fire died down, leaving nothing behind but the faint taste of smoke and ash, a murmur of a silent song humming through the world, he swear her heard Percy yell:

"Mom!"

-0-0-0-

It was only later that he realized that maybe, just maybe, he should of hinted at Percy that he was taking his mom away to safety.

Harry resolved to himself that he'll make it up to the kid later.

-0-0-0-

Harry appeared in a swirl of flames in what appeared to be an infirmary.

A soft gasp was let out at his entrance, and he instantly focused on the kid who was staring at him with barely concealed awe. A kid that was decidedly not Percy, with her blonde hair and grey eyes. No, the kid Harry was looking for was still bedridden and blinking dumbly at the world around him.

Internally rolling his eyes, Harry let out a soft croon.

The effect was immediate as the tension left the girl's shoulders, her tight grip on the bowl in her hands lessening a bit. Percy gave a slight shudder, eyes instantly snapping towards him and recognition flashing through his expression.

"F-fire," he rasped, licking his lips. His eyes were almost delirious as he stared intently at him, almost begging Harry for something. "M- mom," he finished, and Harry crooned in understanding, because duh. Of course the 12 year old would be asking about his mother, the mother he saw disappear in a swirl of flames right before the Minotaur got to her.

Harry could project his thoughts to them, make them understand a bit better. At least, Percy because he had no idea nor did he really care about the blonde girl with them. With another soft croon, he tilted his head down and sang a slight tune, reminiscent of a lullaby he heard once. Both of the kids shuddered, while he softly touched Percy's mind with his own, 'she is safe, you need not worry.'

Percy swallowed, a furrow between his brow. He shifted and winced, making the girl's eyes snap towards him. "Don't move," she stated instantly, the words almost forced out of her. "You'll just hurt yourself more."

"I don't know you," Percy replied, sending her a brooding look. The girl appeared unphased. "Where—where am I?" He addressed this to Harry, who tilted his head.

'Camp Halfblood,' Harry supplied, inwardly shrugging his shoulders. He made sure the girl could hear him too, making her gape at him with wide eyes. 'You shall be safe here. For now, you just need to rest, young Perseus.'

"My name is Percy," the young demigod huffed, exasperated. He seemed to be fading towards unconsciousness, eyelashes fluttering. Harry inwardly grinned. "And mom—you're not lying, are you?" He seemed desperate, the softly spoken words almost pleading.

Instead of answering, Harry began to sing a song to help him drift to sleep. He made sure to put a lot of comfort and sincerity in it, letting his Phoenix half take over to make everything feel right, a synchronous thrum of harmony. Percy was out in seconds, expression smooth and peaceful; after a few more moments, Harry stopped as he gazed at the kid.

Man, he had a storm coming for him. A storm, and hell—Harry crooned sadly, resolved to help the poor kid out as much as he could. He knew what it was like to have things just happen to him, without his control; it sucked. It majorly sucked.

"E-Excuse me," the words snapped Harry out of his daze, and he instantly looked at the girl. The girl swallowed under his stare, licking her lips. "You're a phoenix." Harry internally rolled his eyes, as he stared blatantly at the flushing girl in front of him, who seemingly grew more and more flustered the silence dragged on.

Right when she was about to break, Harry said, 'Really? I had no idea.'

The girl flushed harder, sputtering slightly in annoyance. "It's just—your kind hasn't been around since ancient times," she shook her head, in disbelief. "Why now? Why—him?" If Harry had to say anything, he'd say her expression was almost fearful as she stared at Percy. Fearful, yet there was an underlying resolve lingering beneath it.

Hope?

'Why anything?' Harry asked in a way of answering, with a mirthful croon. The girl's expression twitched with thinly veiled irritation. 'It seems you already know why.' With a meaningful tilt of his head, he gestured towards Percy. 'Look after him for me, would ya'?'

The girl opened her mouth, either to agree or to protest; Harry didn't know, because he was swallowed up by flames in his fiery apparition.

In the next instance, he was on the island he claimed for his own. An island he was sure no one else would find, because he warded it to hell and back. An island which currently housed one mother, who was sitting demurely upon its beach, staring wistfully out at the sea.

Harry transformed back into his human form, letting out a small cough that tasted like fire and ash.

"Your son is doing just fine," Harry said in a way of greeting, sitting heavily next to her. Sally didn't look away from the sea, mouth twitching up into a slight smile. "You're the first thing he asked about. Then he passed back out."

A little laugh passed through Sally like a gentle breeze. "I figured," she admitted, fingers dragging through the squishy sand beneath them. It was quiet for a moment as she stared at the sea, a contemplative gleam in her eyes. "Do you think—do you think I could talk to him?"

Him? Percy? Harry frowned, glancing between her and the sea. She knew she couldn't talk to Percy, especially after Harry mother-napped her to an island to hold her as a 'hostage' for Hades. It took forever to convince the god, but he was sure being held hostage on a getaway island was much better than being held hostage in the underworld.

It was one of the terms they agreed upon.

So no, it couldn't be Percy. Then it must be…

"I don't see why not," Harry shrugged, uncaring. Or at least, trying to appear it—he swallowed harshly, as Sally tilted her head to peer at him curiously. He fiddled with his shoelaces, firmly keeping his gaze away. While a bit nervous, he really didn't see the harm.

The rules said that gods couldn't interact with their demigod children, not the parents who raised them. Sally wasn't a demigod, just a mortal who happened to fall in love with a god.

"Are you sure?" Sally raised an eyebrow, dubious.

Harry let out a little, "Heh." He waved a hand flippantly, turning his gaze from the sea to the mother beside him. "It won't hurt anyone. And I cannot be hurt." For long, at least—even then, physical pain dulled in comparison to the raw ache immortality left him with most of the time.

Sally brightened, and Harry noted where Percy got his smile.

Without wasting a beat, she leapt up and brushed sand off her pants. Harry watched warily as she walked slowly towards the ocean, tensing despite himself. With one last lingering glance towards him, Sally walked into the water until it lapped onto her calves.

How was she going to contact him? Did gods really hear thoughts that much? Harry briefly wondered, as nothing happened for a few moments. Then everything stilled, the ocean seemingly stopped moving for a moment—it was eerie, and Harry sucked in a slight breath, goosebumps raising along his arms as everything swelled before tipping:

It was instant. One moment nothing, the next, the god of the sea was standing there.

Poseidon.

Dark messy hair, and sea green eyes— almost a spitting image of Percy. Especially the dark brooding look of annoyance, Harry noted with amusement; the god's dark look was staring straight at him, before he tore his eyes away to face Sally properly.

"Sally," the god breathed.

Sally let out a little loose laugh. "Surprise," she sounded hallow, and Harry shifted slightly, moving to stand. This resulted in Poseidon's eyes snapping back towards him, expression straining. "This is Harry—he, er, saved me."

"Saved?" Poseidon questioned, eyes narrowing.

"A bit of a loose term," Harry agreed, inching towards them. He noted with amusement that the water that had lapped at the beach didn't reach him, seemingly moving away from him. How—incredibly childish. "I saved her, but she isn't allowed to leave."

"Why?" Poseidon snapped. Sally sighed a little, making the god shift and glance at her. "Sally, is he—are you okay? I'm so sorry," he urged quietly, leaning towards her and lowering his voice. If Harry wasn't Harry, and his hearing being astounding due to his Animagus form, he wouldn't have heard. "I'm so sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Sally replied, firm. "You gave me Percy. For that, I'll be forever grateful," she continued, soothing. The god gave a humorless smile at that. Sally stared at him for a bit, before letting out a little laugh of her own. "I don't know why I called you—"

Poseidon gave a little wounded noise at that.

Sally sounded fond when she finished speaking with, "I guess I just wanted to see you again." Poseidon gave her a helpless look at that, expression incredibly soft. Harry felt awkward and uncomfortable, because ew, PDA.

"Sea him again?" Harry offered, breaking the gross tension between the two. Poseidon gave him an annoyed look, even when Sally huffed with amusement. "The ocean waves at you every day, Sally, so don't feel too neglected." The jokes were in bad taste, as well as just being generally bad. The annoyed expression darkened even more, Sally shooting him an exasperated look.

"Harry, don't be," a slight smirk appeared on her face,"koi."

A moment's pause.

Harry lost it, laughing hysterically. He clutched at his stomach as he shook with laughter, even as he heard Poseidon give an indigent noise. "Sally," he huffed, akin to a whine. Sally laughed, making the god sigh. "I missed you," he murmured to her, before turning his full attention to Harry. "And you."

"Me, me," Harry settled his amusement, still grinning slightly. He became more serious at Poseidon's even stare, straightening a bit more. His grin fell away to a wry smile, as he shoved his hands into his pockets and sighed internally. "I suppose you're wondering what's going on."

"I know what's going on." Poseidon replied. "At least, I know what's going on with one of my brothers at least. Not so much about my other brother." The look in his eyes was threatening, flickering with power that mimicked the sea, its deep and guttural waves threatening to drown him.

His empty expression was daunting.

"Care to explain?"

Poseidon only knew that Zeus was after him specifically because his bolt was stolen, and had assumed that Percy had something to do with it. Zeus was paranoid, and was thinking that Hades and Poseidon were working together to conspire against him, while Hades thought that Poseidon himself was conspiring against both of them. Poseidon was just caught in the middle of it all, guilty of only having a child that happened to correlate with everything going on.

He probably thought that Hades was only angry with him just for breaking the oath.

(Well, Hades was. But there was more substance to that anger.)

Still, that didn't justify going out of his way to take Sally. That was going to another level. That was extra. So, Poseidon was understandably confused, from what Harry gathered. At least, he hoped he assumed correctly, because gods and goddesses and their way of thinking were complex.

Thinking about it all gave Harry a headache.

Bleh. Politics.

"I am keeping Sally here on this island until the Lord of the Underworld's Helm is returned," Harry stated bluntly, making the god frown. A furrow appeared between his brows. Sally hummed, stepping away from Poseidon to turn towards Harry fully. Poseidon unconsciously followed as well, which was—

Well, a god in love was undoubtedly weird to witness.

"His Helm was stolen? By who?" Poseidon questioned. He then paled slightly. "Does he think it me?" Almost abruptly, he sucked in an agitated breath and looked annoyed. "Of course he does, that- that," he cut himself off, shaking his head helplessly. His mood was turbulent.

"It isn't all bad," Sally soothed, making Poseidon glance at her. She gave him a slight smile, gesturing towards Harry. "Harry is on Percy's side." She gave him a look of trust, which made Harry shift uncomfortably. Poseidon gave him a scrutinizing gaze.

"Who are you? All I know is that you were working with my older brother," Poseidon spat. "Why would you help Percy?"

"Because he is innocent." The words were honest, earnest; it seemed to almost take the god aback, making Harry laugh slightly. "Is that not reason enough?" Harry shrugged, glancing around the island idly before returning his gaze back on Sally and Poseidon. "And you already know me. I'm Harry."

"Harry is a phoenix," Sally said, not quite excited but enough to make it sound giddy. Poseidon raised his eyebrows, appraising Harry in a new light. "That phoenix that night, that was him." Harry shifted again, uncomfortable and resigned. It came with having such a weird Animagus form.

But Harry was weird in general, so it tracked.

-0-0-0-

If someone told him long ago that he would be the Master of Death, and would happen to be in a world where Greek Gods existed and meddling in their affairs to help out one kid who reminded him so much of himself—

Well, he wasn't sure if he would have laughed or cried.

Review, favorite, follow, or whatever you do on stories that you read!

Basically this whole thing is just Harry starting to kin Percy a hella lot, haha.

I had a lot of fun writing this!

See ya'll next time! ;v

-mms