Percy Jackson X Harry Potter - The Returning Tournament

Chapter 1 - An Owl Flies Straight Into My Face

I was never a normal child. In fact, I was downright strange. Truthfully, I had no idea how my mother, Sally Jackson, even put up with me at times.
Teleporting somewhere at one time, changing my eye colour the next, I mean - whew. That was some insane stuff for a single mother to deal with.
She never told me I was crazy. She never told me I had to go to a psychological doctor or whatever. She never did the stuff any normal parent would do if they saw their child doing the stuff I did.
She probably should have done all those things, though. The older I got, the more convinced I was that I was hallucinating.
I had just moved to England with my mum. (I needed to practice my British English spellings, so I wasn't gonna call her my mom.) Before, I had lived in New York, but my mum had decided it was time for a change. We had been living with her boyfriend beforehand - Smelly Gabe, as I called him, because he always stunk of alcohol and cigars - and one night, she had decided to move to England, and they had broken up. I didn't know why they had ever gotten together in the first place. I think my mum just needed a place to stay. She had just lost her job and we couldn't afford rent. We weren't exactly rich - and when Smelly Gabe offered for her to date him, and even move in with him, she had been desperate and accepted his offer. Of course, my mum wasn't a good digger. She had just been struggling - and besides, he had been nicer back then, as well. She had probably liked him, at the start. He only revealed his true self once we moved in with him.
Anyhow, after he had revealed himself, and once she had got back on her feet again, she took the chance and left.
Now, I lived in Islington, in a cozy little detached house. It was much better than living with Smelly Gabe. It was currently the summer holidays. I hadn't gotten into a school in England because the move was so sudden we weren't able to organise my schooling, and I dreaded heading back to school when I inevitably did find a school. I was known for being terrible in school. Not just with my grades - I had dyslexia and ADHD, which made it more difficult for me to learn - but also with my reputation. School was where most of my unexplainable accidents happened.
Anyways, I was going outside for some fresh air when an owl flew at me and smacked me square in the face.
The force was enough to push me to the sidewalk. I rubbed my forehead, groaning. Eventually I managed to get back on my feet and survey the owl that was now on the ground. It looked up at me and hooted at me angrily.
Okay, little dude. I mean, you were the one who smashed into my face, but play the victim, I guess.
It was only then that I realised the owl was holding something. I mean, it was strange enough that an owl would be around here in Islington, stranger even that it would get close enough to slam into my face, and stranger still that it would be carrying a letter.
Are messenger owls even a thing? I mean, I knew messenger pigeons were, but messenger owls?
The owl dropped the letter and then promptly flew off. I almost called after it, Hey, you forgot your letter, when I remembered it was an owl and it wouldn't understand me.
I inspected the letter. The envelope was made of yellow-ish parchment, with a golden seal with a crest on it sealing it. I picked it up and went inside my house.
I was too focused on the letter to notice that my mum was standing in the hallway, and I ended up walking straight into her. I stumbled and she caught me before I hit the ground.
"Look, mum!" I said, holding up the letter. "An owl smashed into me and dropped this letter! I wonder who it's for..."
"Maybe it's for you," she said mildly, but with a glint in her eye. I knew that glint. It was the glint she got whenever she knew something I didn't. Still, I was confused.
"Why would it be for me? It's not like I have any friends who would write to me," I argued. "Besides, why would they send a message using an owl? Couldn't they just, like, text me, or something?"
She shrugged. "I would check, anyway. Turn the letter around - check who it's addressed to."
I did as she had asked. And what I saw took me by surprise.
Mr P. Jackson
The Nook
2 Halton Road,
Islington, London
That was my name. The letter was addressed to me. It contained my address...and even the name I called my bedroom - 'The Nook.' My mum and I called it that because it was a small, cute little bedroom, tucked in the corner of our house, so we thought the name fit it perfectly.
"How can this be mine?" I asked.
My mum shrugged again. "Open it."
I did. And I read.
The letter was more difficult to read than the words on the front of the envelope. They had been bigger. The writing on the inside of the letter was tiny. It took me a while, but I just about managed to figure out what it said.
Dear Mr Jackson,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Students shall be required to report to the Chamber of Reception upon arrival, the dates for which shall be duly advised.
Please make sure that the utmost attention be made to the list of requirements attached herewith.
We very much look forward to receiving you as part of the new generation of Hogwarts' heritage.
Yours sincerely,
Professor Mcgonagall
There was an additional list of equipment needed for the school, just as the letter stated. I looked away, blinked at the wall. I looked at the letter. I looked at my mum.
"What does this mean?" I asked. "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry - what? Is this some sort of joke? What does this mean?"
She shook her head, smiling. "It means," she said, "you, my son, are a wizard."