Percy Jackson and The Wizarding World

Percy Jackson coughed, spitting out blood as he knelt beside Luke Castellan's broken body. The Titan's golden essence burned through him like wildfire, and Percy could barely hold back tears.

"I guess… in the end… I can be the hero, huh, Percy?" Luke's voice was weak, his eyes searching for redemption.

Percy's throat tightened. "I'm sorry, Luke."

"No… it's not your fault," Luke whispered, his grip on Annabeth's hand tightening. "Thank you… for giving me the chance to make it right."

Annabeth sobbed beside him, tears streaming down her face. "Luke, please, don't go—"

Luke turned his weary eyes to her and smiled faintly. "Did you… did you ever… love me, Annabeth?"

Her voice cracked. "Y-yes, Luke, I did."

Luke exhaled, a look of peace washing over him. "Then… I'm sorry," he turned to Percy, eyes pleading. "Take care of her for me. And the world… promise me, Percy."

Percy swallowed hard, nodding as he choked back tears. "I promise."

With a final effort, Luke drove the cursed dagger into his own chest. A massive wave of golden energy erupted from him, knocking Percy and Annabeth to the ground. Kronos's agonized screams filled the air as his form shattered into fragments of pure time and space.

"JACKSON!" Kronos's voice roared, his presence surging one last time. "IF I FALL… I TAKE YOU WITH ME!"

A final blast of energy engulfed Percy, his vision exploding into white-hot pain. He felt weightless, spinning through eternity itself. The last thing he saw was Annabeth screaming his name before everything turned black.

Percy gasped awake, his chest heaving. He blinked against the dull, gray sky and the towering silhouette of a massive clock tower in the distance. His eyes widened in recognition.

"Big Ben?" he muttered, his voice hoarse.

Rain poured down, soaking through his torn Camp Half-Blood shirt and jeans. He touched his chest, expecting to find wounds, but there was nothing. He was in one piece.

"Okay, I'm alive," he sighed in relief, "Bad news—I'm in freaking London."

Thunder rumbled above, and Percy glared up. "That wasn't a challenge, Zeus!"

Pedestrians gave him odd looks as they hurried past, but Percy ignored them. His armor—barely hanging together—was getting too much attention. He ducked into a narrow alley, peeling off the shredded leather chest plate and tossing it aside.

"Alright, first things first," Percy muttered, shivering. "Find out what the Hades is going on."

He patted his pockets—no phone, no drachma, only Riptide. His stomach growled angrily, and he groaned. "Great. I'm broke and starving."

A small café nearby caught his attention, and he considered trying his luck there. But before he could move, a voice called out from behind him.

"Percy Jackson."

Percy spun, already flicking the cap off his pen. In an instant, Riptide expanded into its familiar bronze blade.

Before him stood three elderly women in identical gray dresses, their expressions blank yet all-knowing. Percy's blood ran cold.

"The Fates," he muttered.

"Indeed," one of them said.

"Shall we talk?" another gestured toward the café.

Percy hesitated but sighed in defeat. "You're buying. I'm broke."

The three smiled eerily and led him inside. They took a table in the far corner, and Percy slumped into his seat. A waitress approached, smiling warmly.

"Three Earl Greys and one white chocolate mocha with extra sugar for the boy," the middle Fate ordered.

Percy blinked. "How did you—never mind, you're the Fates."

"Indeed," they said in unison.

Percy leaned forward. "Alright, can someone please tell me what's going on? One minute I'm in Olympus fighting Kronos, and the next I'm here."

"You were thrown through time," one of the Fates stated matter-of-factly.

"What?!" Percy almost choked on his drink. "How far?"

"February 23rd, 1994," the Fate on the right said, sipping her tea.

Percy stared in horror. "1994?! That's… fifteen years in the past!" He ran his hands through his hair. "H-how do I get back?!"

"You don't," the Fates said in unison.

Percy's stomach dropped. "What do you mean I don't?!"

"Kronos sent you here as a final act of revenge. And we… cannot interfere with the timeline."

Percy stood up abruptly. "No! I need to get back—Annabeth, my mom, everyone! I have to warn them!"

"You cannot," they repeated. "If you return before the destined time, the consequences would be catastrophic."

Percy sank back into his seat, hands shaking. "So what? I just sit here for fifteen years?!"

"Not just sit," the Fate on the left smiled knowingly. "You will have a new purpose. One that aligns with this world."

Percy frowned. "What do you mean?"

The Fate in the middle handed him a two-pound coin. "Look."

Percy studied the coin, noticing the figure of a woman in a Greek-style helmet with a trident. "Who's this?"

"Britannia," the Fate explained. "Poseidon's daughter. Your sister. She claimed this land long ago, and now, it needs a protector once more."

Percy's jaw dropped. "Are you saying… King Arthur was my brother?!"

The Fates nodded. "And this land still carries magic from his time."

Percy groaned. "You want me to play knight in shining armor? I don't even know how to exist in this world!"

"You will learn," the Fate on the right said. "There is a hidden world here—one of wizards and magic. It will offer you refuge."

"Wizards?" Percy muttered in disbelief. "So magic is real?"

"Yes. And your father's influence is hidden in its depths. You will enter their world, but remain unseen by the gods."

Percy sighed. "So… what? Do I get a wand or something?"

"In time. For now, you must adapt. A new journey awaits, Percy Jackson."

The Fates stood, leaving a small black bag on the table. "Inside is all you'll need—gold, supplies, and instructions. Follow them."

Percy hesitated before taking the bag. "And what if I say no?"

The Fates' eyes darkened. "Then your future will collapse before it ever begins."

Percy gulped, realizing he had no choice. "Fine. Guess I'm going to wizard school."

The Fates smiled eerily. "Good luck, Son of Poseidon."

And with that, they vanished into thin air, leaving Percy alone, staring at his reflection in the café window. "Great. Just great," he muttered. "Hogwarts, here I come."