Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the Percy Jackson series. I own copies of the books, though. Support the official release.

Rant: Okay, this chapter took a long time. Mostly, it was because I realized that I had little to no ideas about where I wanted this story to go, other than some vague generalities. Still, my mind has been fixed on a pretty cool idea for it to take, and I think it will come out a bit faster now – especially as two tests and four papers were turned in last week. Honestly, University doesn't leave one much time to write what one wishes to. Regardless, I hope you enjoy the story. Also, if you see any mistakes, please tell me. Also, random question – is the word auror supposed to be capitalized, or not? I can never remember, and my copy of the books has been loaned to a friend, so I'm at a bit of a loss on that score.

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Having finished his shopping in Diagon Alley, Hadrian was sitting in Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor enjoying a nice scoop of butterbeer-flavored ice cream (he was quite pleased that the old bartender had introduced the drink to him; it wasn't as good as a Fizzing Pomegranate, but it was damned good) with his shopping bags scattered about his table when a black owl with the Ministry's insignia swooped down and landed on the chair next to him. Nodding at the bird, he got up and fetched a dish of water for the creature before delicately seizing the letter from the owl's leg. The letter was written on fine-quality parchment, with ink the blue-green color of the Caribbean Sea.

"Dear Mr. Potter," read the letter, in a fine and thankfully very legible cursive, "As you have expressed a desire for an appointment with me over something disturbing you have found within your parents will, and I have been informed by the goblins that this concern, whatever it may be, is indeed true and will have reaching consequences, I will agree to meet with you. The meeting will take place in my office, tomorrow at three in the afternoon. I will have another auror and his trainee with me for witnesses, to keep everything legal. In regards to your wish for secrecy, they shall only be told that they are to witness a potential crime revealed in a will. I will not specify whom the will belongs to, nor will I inform them who is presenting the material. Should this appointment not work with your schedule, please inform me. I hope for a reply today for the confirmation. Sincerely, Amelia Bones, Head of the DMLE."

He glanced the owl, which was zoning out and resting after having sipped at the water, and took out a notebook from his pack. He ripped out a piece of lined paper from it, grabbed a sharpie pen and wrote out a brief acceptance of the time and place. Placing the note back into the envelope, he wrote, "Return to Sender" on the front, and then tied it too the bird's leg. Thanking the bird for its service, he lifted it up and sent it flying. Watching the owl disappear into the drizzling evening sky, he made his way back to the Leaky Cauldron, and ordered a room for the night. Hopefully, if all went well, he wouldn't need to do so from tomorrow until term started, with the hopeful release of his godfather.

Not really caring to sleep in a hotel bed, he opened his trunk and made his way inside to his master bedroom, where he plopped down onto his comfortable bed. As he descended into Morpheus' realm, he spared a thought for his siblings, and sent a quick prayer to his mother, wishing them well.

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In France, Rita was lying on a beach enjoying the beach. While soaking in the warmth of the dying sun, she was voraciously reading through the magazine article that had been discussed in the Leaky Cauldron. As she did, she had her dicta-quill taking notes on particularly juicy or interesting information for her articles. She finished reading it, and picked up a rather dry looking book entitled "A Treatise on the Practices and Cultures of the Various European Wizards." Apparently, some of the facts from the magazine came from this book. She decided that she was quite fond of the idea of books having a reference section to help in her research. As she delved into the book Rita found it to be quite dry; however, she persevered, and when the section on British wizards and their culture came up, she was nearly salivating at the damning facts she discovered. As she spoke to her quill, all she could see was the article she would write getting the front page, and the look on Dumbledore's face when everything was revealed.

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The next day, after a nice lunch courtesy of Tom the barman, Hadrian made his way to the phone booth that was the entrance to the Ministry of Magic's Atrium via cab. After getting out and paying his fare, he got into the telephone booth. When the voice asked him who he was and what he was visiting the Ministry for, he replied, "My name is Hadrian Potter. I am here to tell of a crime committed at the highest level of this government, and to free an innocent man from prison, who has been in Azkaban for over a decade for a crime he didn't commit."

A badge came out as the phone booth turned into an elevator and began to descend into the atrium. It read "Hadrian Potter: Harbinger of Justice." He smirked.

After about fifteen minutes of wandering through the ministry, he made his way to the room where he was to meet the Head of the DMLE and her Aurors. He was early; it seemed, but hopefully not by much. So he took a seat and leaned the carved, wooden chair back against the wall, took his headphones out of a mokeskin pouch, turned on his iPod, and shut his eyes, concentrating on the sound. He didn't have to wait longer than it took for two songs to play, and when he heard the clicking of someone's peg leg, he put his iPod and headphones away, placed his seat back on the ground, and scooted towards the table.

A rather stately and well-aged woman walked into the room, nodding at thim before taking a seat at the head of the table. Behind her followed a scarred man who was missing a leg and had a replace eye of some strange variety. It spun around, was electric blue, and he had a feeling it saw more than a normal eye would. Walking just behind him pas a pixie-like girl with a pert nose and pink hair in a rather stylish cut. They both wore standard British Auror robes, though the girl had a badge of some sort on her robes, probably indicating that she was a trainee.

"Amelia Bones. These are Alastor Moody and Nymphadora Tonks," said the stately woman. The pink-haired girl made a squeaking noise at the introduction, and the man kicked her in the shin.

"Hadrian Potter," was his reply as he raised a single eyebrow.

The meeting began, and he showed her the copy of the will he had received from Gringotts. She used a charm to duplicate it, giving a copy to both of her minions – er, subordinates. Her eyes grew steadily larger as she read on, and when she was finished, her lips had thinned in displeasure.

"This is true?"

He merely nodded.

"So not only did the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot let an innocent man go to the worst sort of prison, but he knew he was doing so! He witnessed the damn will, which clearly stated that Peter Pettigrew was the Secret-Keeper. This is not only a violation of his oaths as on of the witnesses to the will, but a violation of his oaths of office, damn it! He sealed the will, as well.

"Did Sirius Black even get a trial?"
She looked shocked at the very notion. "I have no idea, this all happened before I came to office." She began massaging the bridge of her nose, trying to stop the oncoming headache."

"You know, he had himself appointed my magical guardian when my parents died, and then ditched me with my magic-hating relatives. A blood relative that knew about magic, but didn't care about such things rescued me, and she took me to America."

Her spine straightened as a realization came to her. "Not only that," she put forward, a bit of horrified awe in her voice, "But he's been using your family's seats on the Wizengamot, as well as Sirius Black's to forward his own agenda. He must have planned it all along."
The grizzled old auror at her side look grim-faced at the prospect, and his apprentice's hair seemed to pale and wilt. "As much as I'd like to deny that my old friend would do such a thing," the scarred man put forward, "I cannot deny the truth before my eyes. To do such a thing to some of his own former students, and favorites at that… it is disgusting.

He's the headmaster of an entire school of children, most of whom trust him and practically believe that he hung the sky and the moon himself. Amelia, what other seats does he control? He could have done this more than just this once."

She paled. "The McKinnon seats and the Prewitt's," she replied, barely audible as she spoke. "Both of whom fought under him in the last war. There is also the Dawlinger seat, which he got from the family when the last scion of the household… died in an accident at Hogwarts."

All four of them looked grim at the thought. Not only was he in charge of a good portion of the government, but he also controlled the education at his school. There was the possibility right there in front of all of them that he also removed those who stood in the way of what he wanted to gain, and the ominous thought that he might do so again. A shudder went down their spines at the very thought.

"Do you think we can do something about Uncle Sirius' incarceration?"

The two elder aurors blinked, as did Hadrian, and all three glanced at the now furious-looking witch whose hair had turned spiky and blood red, with eyes the same color. "Uncle," asked Amelia.

"Well, he was my mother's favorite cousin, so it is close enough for Ministry work. Regardless, he has been exposed to dementors for no reason for over a decade! There will have to be some form of restitution, as well. We cannot just go tossing people into prison without even giving them a trial, and then try to sweep it under the rug. Regardless of the beef he might make, if the others in the Wizengamot find out the sent the Head of and Ancient and Noble House to prison without a trial, and then try to ignore that it happened or not recompense him, there will surely be a revolt."

"Damn."

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"We'll have to move carefully; if old Fudgey gets wind of this he'll tell his backer, Malfoy. Whether Black is innocent or guilty, Lucius will want to keep him where he is – if he's guilty, veritaserum will tell us all of Malfoy's crimes, if he's innocent, Malfoy's brat won't be set to inherit the Black Family Fortune anymore. So, nobody talks, to anyone. Understood?"

"Yes, Madame Bones!"

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In a decrepit castle built on a craggy rock in the frothy seas off of the coast of Britain, two aurors stunned a rather scruffy –looking sleeping man and grabbed him none too gently by both arms. They dragged him out of the cell with the window overlooking the rocky beach below, and into the hallway. Making their way out of the building, past the guard, and onto the tiny boat which would take them out of the wards and back to land, where they could safely apparate away, Tonks shivered.

"That place gives me the creeps."

"It is doing its job, then: acting as a deterrent for the Witches and Wizards of Britain who would otherwise become criminals if not for the threat of that godforsaken place," the grizzled auror stated roughly to his young protégé.

"Still, I don't ever want to be assigned there to be the guard."

"There's a reason it is considered punishment duty, lass."

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The King's Cross train station was bustling, people making their way hurriedly to and fro about the station, trying to board their trains on time or meet with friends or relatives. It reminded him of the subway stations in New York, only better kept, cleaner, and with a bit less people. Finding the pillar between Platforms Nine and Ten, he strode confidently through the seemingly solid construction, thanking the gods that he had remembered to ask Madame Bones just exactly where Platform Nine and Three Quarters was, because otherwise he would have been floundering, and asking after the location of that station would no doubt give him looks of incredulity and expressions displaying doubt over his sanity.

As he entered the Platform, he saw children boarding the train, carting luggage toward it, or being hugged by their parents in a sometimes-tearful farewell. Pushing down a slight twinge of jealousy – his human parents had died, and his Mother couldn't see him off due to those blasted laws of Zeus – he made his way into the train.

Finding a comfortable compartment, he stowed his trunk up in the overhead storage area, curled up, and settled in for a nap. When he woke up, it was to the sight of three girls sitting in the same compartment as him. One was a blonde with fair blue eyes, a bit on the short side, but with a cheerful little smile on her face. Another was a taller redhead with stormy grey eyes and a crooked grin. The last was a solemn-looking girl with black hair and even blacker eyes.

He blinked sleepily at them, trying his hardest to wake up and process the information that their were people in front of him, and that he should probably introduce himself if he wanted to be polite. Honestly, though, the first rational thought that came to mind was, 'Gah! That girl is wearing green and purple!'

"Um… hi."

They greeted him in return, and he gave his name, "I'm Hadrian by the way. Who are you three?"

"Hannah Abbot," said the blond girl with the headache-inducing ensemble said.

"Susan Bones," the redhead stated.

"Su Li," the brunette spoke her name quietly.

The four of them began speaking, and while it was a bit awkward at first, soon enough a steady stream of conversation could be heard from their compartment. There was laughter, and after an elderly woman with a snack cart came by, chocolate, and so life was good, in Hadrian's perspective. There seemed to be a common nervousness about the three girls, though. When he inquired about it, it was Susan Bones who replied.

"We are scared of getting sent to different houses."

"Why," he couldn't help but ask.

"We won't be able to be friends if we're in different houses."

"Why the hell not?"

This took them aback. Then they started thinking about it.

"It's always been that way," Hannah Abbot said weakly.

"Screw that. Are you three friends?"

"The best."
"Then keep a hold of that. Where you sleep at night and who you take classes with shouldn't stop you from being with your friends, and damn anything that thinks otherwise to an eternity in the Fields of Asphodel!"
It was quiet in the car for a while, and the three girls seemed to be thinking on what he had been saying. After a bit, a girl opened the door and popped her head in the compartment. She had brown, bushy hair and soft brown eyes, and slightly bucked teeth, but she seemed like a nice enough girl, even if some of his siblings would have dismissed her on principal.

"Have you seen a toad come by," she asked, "I'm helping a boy named Neville find his after it ran off. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way."
A rather pudgy boy with a kindly, if nervous, face appeared beside her, and asked Hermione if they had seen his poor toad, Trevor.

"No," Hadrian said, "We haven't seen any toad make its way by. However, you said his name is Trevor?"

The boy nodded, so Hadrian took out his wand and said "Accio Trevor the Toad" and lo and behold, a green and brown amphibian came zooming into the train compartment. He caught it, casually, and then handed it off to Neville.

"How do you know that spell? I heard it's supposed to be a fourth year spell, and judging by your collar – with the lack of house affiliation, I mean – you're a first year like us."

"I'm from America," he answered, "And magical schooling starts a few years earlier there than it does here. In fact, across the pond all the Magical Nations start their schooling earlier."

"Really? I always heard that a witch or wizard's magical core wasn't settled until they were eleven."

"No, that's mostly a myth. The core stabilizes at about nine, actually. However, students shouldn't use their magic too rigorously before eleven, or else their core will get strained, leading to illness or even death, because the core is still delicate at that stage. You can still do things like potions, runes, and astronomy, as well as the basics in the main wanded subjects and the theoretical side of arithmancy. As long as you stick to basic charms like the levitation charm or the lumos charm, basic transfiguration like needles to matchsticks and vice versa, you're fine."

"Oh. How do you know that summoning charm, then?"

"After my core stabilized I checked out some more advanced books that were in my family's collection, and have been using things from them." He very carefully didn't mention that as a demigod, he didn't need to wait until he was eleven. The cores of magical demigods stabilized when they were five, and at seven year of age could actively use magic. When they turned eleven, they merely got a power boost, like most magicals received on their seventeenth birthday, and a second boost if they survived to seventeen.

"So, what sorts of things are there to do at Hogwarts? Being from America, I haven't heard much about European schools."

The conversation drifted into more mundane subjects over the daily life of a Hogwarts student, or at the very least, information they had picked up from their older friends and relatives.

After a long while, the train began to slow, and finally it stopped. Compartment by compartment, the students began to make their way out of the train. Older students moved off to the side, where carriages drawn by thestrals stood, waiting to be filled with passengers and to then embark on the journey through the Forbidden Forest to the castle. The first years followed the call of the half-giant, and made their way onto the docks and into the rowboats that were settled in the water of the Black Lake. The boats, it seemed, were enchanted – as soon as four students were settled into them, they began to slowly but surely row themselves out into a line on the lake. The school itself wasn't visible, as the lake was curved, and from where they sat in the boats, the line of sight was blocked by a part of the Forbidden Forest. Once all the boats had caught up, they made their stately way forward.

Even if he loathed what Albus Dumbledore, and most of Magical England for that matter, stood for, he could help but catch his breath as he caught sight of Hogwarts in all her majesty. It was one of the loveliest sights that he had ever seen, with the lights from inside casting a golden glow on parts of the castle, and the beauty was made doubly so as it stood tall not only in and of itself, but in the reflection that it cast on the lake. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that as of this very moment he was entering a new chapter of the story of his life, and as dangerous as it might be, he couldn't help but feel that it would be just as glorious as the sight that stood before his eyes.

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In a small room on the other side of the country, an old man and two women stood before another man strapped to a chair, and bound with magic suppression runes. The man in the chair had his mouth opened, and the younger woman delicate dripped three drops of a colorless, and nearly tasteless liquid onto the man's tongue.

"What is your name," asked the older woman. While she did so, a dicta-quill floated over a nearby piece of parchment, recording everything that was spoken.

"Sirius Orion Black."
And what revealed of the past irrevocably changed the fate of Magical Britain. A truth that would have otherwise been never revealed in an official capacity was let loose, and in doing so, shook their little corner of the world to its core.