The mystery of Percy Jackson

'I don't know what I was thinking' he hadn't used water since his world came crashing down around him three years ago. 'I guess it was time to move on.' He thought bitterly. 'Poseidon, I had told me to get a move on with my life; all the Olympians had. Hestia had even paid me a visit, so many months ago.'

"It doesn't really make sense, Perseus," she had said, watching as I ate her sandwiches slowly. "To stop living your life because someone just because of a betrayal. Do you think it right to hide away?" Her voice was soothing. Hestia smiled warmly at him, before looking down at her hands. "The gods, Percy. You are the son of Poseidon. You were the one that killed Kronos. The gods are angry to have lost their finest hero. I know it's hard right now, Perseus. But think not only of yourself, but of the millions that follow you."

"I'm not gone," I said, swallowing the food. It was, as always delicious. He never thought there was anyone following, much less millions. "Annabeth was my future, Hestia. Even you know this."

Hestia nodded, I'm only lucky I've still got mom. After all this time, even through getting her degree, she still chose to live in this apartment in Queens, New York. She chose to stay by me, and if I could love her more, I would.

"Move on, Percy," I muttered, looking up at the ceiling. "Because you've lost too much for her." I sat on my bed, closing my eyes.

Ever since I left Camp half-blood, my ADHD had gotten worse. I fidgeted more, without the constant presence of someone who could always calm me down. I would hear her voice at night, high whispers asking me questions. Not cruel questions, not really. Annabeth questions. Want to go to Greece, Percy? It's been a while.

Are you really not continuing with Goode, Seaweed Brain? I laughed at that one. But as much as her voice soothed my emotions and calmed my nightmares my heart was always in pain at the sound of her voice.

But then I met her. Hermione. Over the course of three days, I'd grown to care for her. Maybe not obviously, but I did. She was a lot like Annabeth; smart, beautiful. But she was so close to finding out what I am, and I'm not sure the gods would permit it. Gods, when did I get so grave about everything?

"And your ex," Hermione challenged, her face inches from my own. "She's muggle?"

Muggle? must have been a brittish version of mortal. But as she asked the question, I realized, maybe she was a demigod too. How else could she know Annabeth was half-god? But the last I checked, none of the gods had brown hair and brown eyes, or the softness she held in them. Something else, maybe. Something older.

"About as mortal as you are," I answered, but Hermione did not seem satisfied.

I left, saying I needed to go for a swim. But I didn't want to go, for a change. So I sat down on the couch, watching Adam Sandler's Grown Ups 2. I never liked Adam Sandler, but the dialogue in his movies were always funny.

Hermione Granger was, maybe, the step towards the right direction for me. She was kind. Beautiful. Lively, and smart.

Hermione's P.O.V. (Third Person)

Hermione paced around her apartment, resisting the urge to bite her fingernails. Her ankle felt lighter, but her mind raced. Percy hadn't carried a wand when he came. Maybe a run would clear my mind. She changed into a pair of shorts and a sweatshirt, putting on her running shoes and leaving the apartment. She jogged her usual track around the building and out the neighborhood, making it all the way to the abandoned buildings, before running back.

What felt like a few minutes was actually an hour, yet Hermione hadn't realized how out of breath she was until she stepped in the shower.

"All this will go away, Mione," Hermione muttered in the shower. All the uncertainty would go away. "In eighteen days you'll be back in England with Ginny and Harry. You'll make it." Ginny had never replied to her letter, and Hermione assumed she wasn't coming to get her. Still, she remained hopeful.

Right as she slipped her shirt on, there was a knock on the door. "Be right there!" Hermione said loudly, before drying her hair and running to the door. She opened it, revealing Percy.

"My ankles fine, if you're here to check," she said, her mind a bit dazed from seeing him again. He looked down, before looking back to her, a small smile dancing on his face. If there was a single word to describe him, it would be charming. Not the words he would say, but the unassuming candor in his eyes.

"Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to watch a movie with me in my apartment. I didn't want to be alone tonight," Percy mumbled, almost as an afterthought, and Hermione's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You don't have to change," Percy said quickly, glancing at Hermione's pajamas. "It's just you and me." Hermione looked at her empty apartment, before looking back at Percy.

It was dangerous of her to accept a date. There was a very high possibility that he was American Ministry, in which case she might just be looking at the prospect of Azkaban for revealing herself to a presumed Muggle. Why was she so tempted?

"Yes," she said, heat creeping up her neck. "Any movie you have in mind?"