Two Secret Worlds (Cross-over FanFiction)

Percy Jackson is not your average boy: he is a demigod, son of Poseidon. Neither is Harry Potter: he is a wizard and famous for surviving the killing spell.
What happens when one day the two boys wake up in new beds in new places? What happens when their souls switch bodies? **This is my entry for the Cross-Over FanFiction Competition**


5. Dizzy


Percy's P.O.V

Ron walked out on the big, lime-green pitch with the brown box under his arm, still clutching the two long objects just as close to his body as ten minutes ago. Around me stood four sky-high grandstands and in the two backs of the pitch were three large rings. The late afternoon sunlight was barely slipping through the grandstands and covered most of the weird formed stadium in a comfortable low lighting. Ron stopped and put the box on the ground with an almost silent bump. He opened the dark wood case and I saw three rather odd-looking balls.

“So,” Ron said and threw one of the long objects at me. “Since apparently you’re not who I thought you were, I will have to teach you how to play quidditch. Harry is very fond of this game and I will not have you make a fool out of him in the game against Huffelpuff tomorrow.”

I put a smile on my face when Ron for once didn’t say that my name was Harry.

Then I curiously asked him: “What’s quidditch?” He sighed, but still told me that quidditch was the most well-known and popular sports game in the wizarding world. I nodded and looked at the long object he’d given me.

“And what’s this?”

“That,” he said as I watched a smile grow on his face, “is your broomstick. And I have got to tell you that it’s a bloody good one.”

“What’s so special about this … broomstick?” I asked after I’d taken a closer look on it; Fine, bright wood and the most perfect shaped twigs made what even I knew was a broomstick of the finest kind.

“It’s not just any broomstick,” Ron claimed. “It’s a Prestissimo!” He gazed admiring at the broomstick for another moment before returning to our situation.

“So,” Ron said, dragging out the word. “Quidditch.” He took one of the balls from the box and threw it at me. I caught it and saw that it was roundly shaped and rather large.

“This is the Quaffle,” he said. “A whole quidditch team consists of seven players; three of these are Chasers and their job is to score with the Quaffle by the goal posts.” He pointed at the large rings in the back ends of the field.

“What do the other players do?” I asked Ron.

“There is a Keeper, of course. Someone has to guard the rings so the opponents won’t score and get their points—oh, I almost forgot! Each time a team score they get ten points.” A powerful wind blew through the quidditch pitch and made Ron’s colorful hair flick in front of his eyes. He flipped it aside as he bowed down and opened a metal case’s lock. A metal ball flew fast and high up in the air and Ron quickly grabbed a bat from the box as the ball came flying back towards him.

“What, is this like baseball?” I asked.

“No,” Ron gritted through his teeth. The ball came closer and he raised the bat. “This…” He smacked the ball with a thud. “…Is nothing like muggle games.” The ball quickly turned back and flew toward him again. He dropped the bat.

“Here we go...” Ron whispered just before the ball accelerated. He caught it tightly and struggled a bit putting the ball back in the brown box and locking it safely in its case.

Still catching his breath, Ron rose from the box and looked at me.

“That is one of the two Bludgers. It is the two Beaters’ job to keep the Bludgers away from hitting you or any other of your teammates. They will also have to aim the Bludgers for the opponent team. These balls are nasty.”

“You seem to have a good hand on them, though.”

“It’s probably in my genes. My brothers are both excellent Beaters—they play for the Gryffindor team. And you won't have to worry much about these Bludgers. I can almost promise you that Fred and George will keep them away from you.”

“Almost?!” I freaked.


Ron opened a little hatch in the box and took out a small, golden ball with thin, graceful wings. “This is the Golden Snitch.” He placed the Golden Snitch on his palm and its wings started to move in tiny movements. “It is your job to catch the Snitch, Percy.” Just then the Snitch flew straight up in the air, but my hands caught it before it got any further.

“See that is exactly how I wanted you to react,” Ron said and smiled. “You are the Seeker of the team ... and you can say that you are the most important player of them all.” I wrinkled my forehead. Me? The most important player of the game quidditch when I was a complete amateur?

“When you catch the Snitch your team wins 150 points and the game ends. Almost every time a Seeker catches the Snitch his or hers team wins. So simply all you’ve got to do is catch the Golden Snitch before the other Seeker.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “That’ll be easy enough.”

“Oh, we’ll see. You have to fly on a broomstick, too, remember? And the Golden Snitch looks tiny on a quidditch pitch.”

“I can do it,” I reassured Ron. I had to do it. I didn’t have a choice, had I?

“Great. Let’s see you give it a try.”

I tryingly swung a leg over the Prestissimo Ron had brought me and on his sign released the Golden Snitch. I watched it closely as it flew quickly up in the air and headed on up towards the blue sky.

“Now push off from the ground and try to catch it,” Ron told me. I obeyed and was more than pleased, when I shot straight up in the air. Laying more and more meters behind me I followed the Snitch with a speed that blew my mind. I wasn’t afraid of pushing the broomstick’s limits or my own, so I decided to go all the way. As I watched the Snitch ahead of me coming nearer and nearer towards me I reached out my hand. I could almost feel its cold metal in my hand and was just about to catch it, when it fast flew out of my scope. I looked down to see it a dozen of meters below me. I twisted the Prestissimo until I was only clinging onto it with my body. If I let go of the broomstick I would fall directly to the ground. I flew downwards and immediately saw that the Snitch was just below me. I reached my hand out and shut my fingers around the small ball before it could fly any further. I straightened the Prestissimo up and landed on the ground beside Ron.

“Bloody hell,” he whispered and gave me a brief elevator glance. “Are you sure you’re not Harry Potter? Because you caught that Golden Snitch just as fast as he can.”

“And what time is that?”

“Barely 12 seconds.”

“Holy cr—” I stopped myself before the word escaped my lips fully, but opened my eyes wide. “12 seconds? That’s not much!”

“Exactly. Harry’s record of catching the Snitch is 11 seconds—and he is one of the best Seeker’s Hogwarts have ever seen! You are a beginner within quidditch and you…”

I knew what Ron knew wanted to say. I was just as quick as Harry was and he was an expert in the game. I was as new to quidditch as I was of knowing about magic.

Ron raised his eyebrows. “Well, then. One thing is for sure: We might not lose the game against Huffelpuff tomorrow."



Harry’s P.O.V

Something about Annabeth made my head dizzy. Every time she smiled at me I got a strange feeling in my stomach. Every time she tucked a loose lock of hair in behind her ear I couldn’t help but feel enchanted by each and every detail of her. She was flawless.

I hadn’t felt all of this so strong before; of course there was Cho Chang back at Hogwarts, but she wasn’t like Annabeth. This American girl I had gotten to know in the past few days were fun, likeable, proud and adventurous. She was nothing like the girls I had known before.

Something about her made my head dizzy.

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