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**


4. Soul Switching Is Not An Ordinary Affair


“I’m telling you, Hermione, I woke up this morning in a new bed and apparently in a new country, too. The most creepy part is that I without knowing it got an all new body.” I looked at Hermione with a clear seriousness hiding behind my eyes. I had spoken true the whole day, but no one had seemed to believe me. Not even closely Ron, who now looked resignedly at me.

“Just stop it, Harry. Your joke died long ago,” he sighed. I wanted to hiss at him that my name wasn’t Harry, but it seemed like every time I had done it today he’d just got even more annoyed at me. I chose to keep my mouth shut.

“Don’t think this is a joke, Ronald!” Hermione bit off him before she sighed annoyed. “I think something is terribly wrong with Harry, but I don’t know what.”

“He’s gone crazy, that’s what’s wrong!” Ron said. I let my head fall into my hands. Why couldn’t he just get that I wasn’t going mad? 

No one said a word.

“Maybe we should ask Professor Dumbledore out about this. He might know something we don’t,” Hermione said and broke the silence.

“I don’t know. He is an old man, Hermione. I’m sure Harry just needs a good night’s sleep,” Ron said, looking up at the common room’s fireplace.

“Oh come on!” she said and got up from her red armchair. “We are going rather you like it or not.” Ron’s mouth was a thin line when he got up from the floor and joined Hermione.

“You’re coming?” he asked me. I nodded and got up to follow them out of the common room.

It was in the late afternoon, just before dinner, and the sun’s light was slowly beginning to disappear. As we walked through the many corridors and staircases, I noticed that not many students were around. Finally, we got to a statue on the first floor.

“Do you remember the password?” Hermione asked me. I wrinkled my forehead.

“No. Is there even a password?”

“Of course there is a password! Not anyone can be allowed to enter a headmaster’s office, can they?” Ron cleared his throat. 

“I happened to be here with Harry the last time he was here. Luckily I remember the password.” We moved out of his way and he stepped closer to the statue. “Seashell tongs,” he spoke out clearly. The statue said: “Come on in!” and swung aside. Behind it a spiral staircase showed itself. I took a trying step up the staircase. It didn’t seem like the old steps was about to burst down under me. I put up the speed in the next few steps, and before I knew it I was running. I heard Ron and Hermione’s footsteps right behind me. When the staircase ended I stood in front of an old door made of thick, dark wood. I was just about to walk inside when Hermione pulled me back.

“Where are your manners? Knock on the door,” she said. I did what she told me to. A voice from the other side of the door told me to come in. I pushed the golden door handle down and stepped inside. The room was big, circular and looked kind of extraordinary. By a wide desk in the back of the room sat an old, thin man with long, white beard and hair. A bit down on his crooked nose a pair of half-moon glasses had its place.

“Ah, Harry,” he said in a calm voice and nodded at me. “How wonderful to see you here. I see you brought miss Granger and Mr. Weasley?” I turned around to look at Ron and Hermione who had walked into the room right after me.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” the old man asked. Hermione had said she was going to take me to Professor Dumbledore—maybe this was him? I opened my mouth to ask him of this, but Hermione cut me off.

“I'm sorry to bother you, professor, but we have a problem. I don’t think this is Harry,” she said quicker than a leopard can run.

“He looks real enough to me,” the professor said and nodded towards me.

“But all day he has been saying that his name was Percy and other extremely odd things. Professor, I know that something is wrong with him,” she exclaimed. Dumbledore looked thoughtfully through his glasses and folded his hands.

“Maybe …” he whispered almost inaudibly as he got up from the desk. He walked over to a big bookshelf and looked through the many titles. “Once I was reading about a fairly interesting subject in the school library when I fell over the term called ‘soul switching’. I took the book back with me to my office and I might even—“ The professor’s eyes stopped at a title and he pulled the book out of the shelf. “Oh, yes. I still have it.” He smiled at us and opened the book. He turned the pages slowly with a curious, little smile. He stopped at a page and glanced down of it with a long finger following the lines; ready to strike when he found what he needed.

“Yes, here it is,” Dumbledore said and cleared his throat. “Soul switching is a rare phenomenon. The incident can happen to anyone at any time: Muggles as well as wizards and witches.” He paused.

“What’s muggles?” I asked. I hadn’t got an answer on the question that same morning and the word had been said many times in the short day. I was curious.

“Muggles is non-magicians,” Dumbledore smiled.

“Is there more, professor?” Ron asked.

“Indeed,” he answered and continued his reading aloud: “How the two souls manage to switch bodies is unknown, but to switch them back is a relatively known method. A simple soul spell will be able to do the work.” He looked up from the book. “Did you say your name was Percy?” I opened my eyes widely when for the first time that day, someone actually called me by my real name. “Yes.”

Dumbledore went back to his desk and sat down in his tall chair. “Is there anything else you would like to tell me about?”

I didn’t hesitate laying all my cards out on the table: “My name is Percy Jackson. I’m 15 years old and in the moment I’m living in Camp Halfblood a little outside of New York, USA. I’m a demigod, son of Poseidon and I have never ever before heard of magic.”

For a long moment there was silence.

Then Dumbledore took the word: “I actually met a demigod a dozen of years ago. He was quite entertaining!” I just stared at him in response. Was that all he had to say? Just as I was about to say something to him, he spoke again. “Well, Percy, we will have to get you your body back.”

“That would be great,” I said, feeling relieved. “Professor,” I quickly interjected when I remembered Hermione’s words about my manners.

“So what are we going to do now? We need Harry back, too, and I’m sure he’s already doing something really stupid in America right in this moment,” Ron said. Dumbledore looked at each of us.

“Let me take care of the spell. Tomorrow, I will get you back your own body, Percy,” he said. “But for now, go downstairs and get some dinner!”


Harry’s P.O.V

I stood on the big green field in front of Annabeth. The sun shined bright above us, making the armor on my upper body heat up. She had tucked her golden hair into a perfect ponytail and had a shield by her side. I could see my own reflection in the clear steel sword: I had a shield for protection and a sword for attack for myself. Her lips were curved into a combative, vicious smile. She had a look in her steel grey eyes that told me I was going down. 

Annabeth jumped into the fight way before I had expected. The sword was aimed straight for my heart as she almost flew in the air. I twisted my body to the side and she missed me by an inch. I was surprised of myself. My reflexes had always been pretty good in wizarding duels, but now I was way faster than usual. Apparently, I was stronger, too. I held the shield in front of me and lifted my heavy sword up in position. I had never been practicing fighting with armor, shield or sword (actually I hadn’t practiced fighting at all, unless you count in wizarding duels), but it felt like my body was used to the movements I made. The way I swung the sword elegantly through the air almost made me loose my focus. Annabeth was obviously a good sword fighter. The way she flinched her hair of her shoulder, the way she laughed every time she got a hit in on me. She moved her body and her sword in a graceful way that made me look like a newbie—which practically was what I was.

Annabeth ended up winning the fight by disarming me with one of her many fighting tricks.

“I win,” she smiled as she stood with the tip of her sword against my neck. She lowered her sword. “Again?” She handed me my sword and I gladly took it back. 

This time, I was the first one to attack. I aimed for her side, but she blocked my stroke with her shield. She headed for my leg, but I was faster than her and jumped to the side. With the slightest movement I got closer to her and aimed a stroke for her stomach, but she knew where I was going and blocked my stroke before I could even touch her. She took advantage of my short surprisement and got a hit in on my left arm. With a stinging pain in my arm I aimed for her chest, but this time, too, she saw what was coming. Her sword met mine in a tinkling sound. We tried to push the other back with the swords against each other, but none of us seemed to move fairly much. Suddenly, I could feel I was getting the upper hand. I twisted my sword in a simple movement.

Annabeth fell backwards and landed on the ground. I was about to scream out my happiness about winning, when I suddenly felt a hand around my wrist. I got pulled down and landed on the ground beside Annabeth. She was just about to point the sword at me—and win the fight—but I was ahead of her. I disarmed her with a sudden power and quickly got up from the ground. Lying there in the dirt, I pointed my sword towards her heart.

“Dead,” I whispered. I threw my sword on the ground so I could take her hand and help her up from the ground. She stood closer to me before telling me, that I hadn’t really won: “Practically, I did. I was just about to when you disarmed me.”

“I thought it was a fair game,” I said and looked into her eyes. I could tell she didn’t agree with me, but that she was thirsty for some more game. “If you want to win, you are going to fight me again.” Annabeth flashed me a smile and stepped away from me. She picked up her sword on the ground and tucked in some loose hair behind her ear.

“Challenge accepted.”

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...