I did it!

I know this chapter is terribly late, but I've been really busy with college and work and I haven't had as much time to write as before. Not to mention I'm kind of a perfectionist and I like to check everything multiple times (despite this I still made a mistake in the last chapter. I wrote 'a basic lack of survival instincts' instead of 'a lack of basic survival instincts'. Oops.)

I'll update as often as possible, but I won't keep a schedule from now on. I work better without a deadline hanging over my head anyway.

I want to thank everyone one who liked or reviewed this story. You guys make my days. I also want to thank Kiskaduna who added this story to her community.

As you probably suspect, Percy gets sorted in this chapter. If you want to know the reasoning behind my choice, you can find it at the end of the chapter.

On to other news, this weekend I'll be at one of the biggest Comics convention in the world, Lucca Comics and Games. Do I have Italian readers? Will you guys be there?

And now, enjoy the chapter! Let me know what you think if you have the time!

Chapter 7 – In which an Hat sings and Hades' realm rears its ugly head

Whatever could be said about wizards and their eccentricity, they sure knew how to build schools.

The castle of Hogwarts stood on a sloping hill, protected by snow-capped mountains on three sides and by a large lake on the last one. It was encircled by extensive grounds and by the forest he had seen from the train. Warm lights shined out of hundreds of windows and high turrets hid the starry sky from sight. Three towers, taller than the rest, glowed bright against the darkness of the night.

It couldn't compare to the majesty of Olympus, with its white-columned palaces and gilded porticos illuminated by a thousand fires in the clouds above Manhattan, but it was still breathtaking in its own, medieval way. Annabeth would've killed to be there.

"You're gaping, mate," Ron snickered, "Close your mouth."

Percy snapped his mouth shut, glaring at him.

"Don't listen to him, Percy," Hermione piped up, "We all felt like that the first time. Well, not only the first time."

Percy followed her line of sight to Harry, who was staring at Hogwarts as if it were the entrance to the Isles of the Blest and eternal peace awaited him on the other side. He had never seen someone looking so happy to go back to school. Granted, he had attended schools for juvenile delinquents most of his life so maybe that had something to do with it.

"Come on, the carriages are this way."

Hermione led them down a narrow path edged by tall, thick trees. Their finger-like branches tickled the skin of his neck.

He stumbled on a root. "Carriages?"

"Yeah," Harry answered, stirred from his contemplation of Hogwarts now that the castle was out of sight. "You didn't think we'd get there by foot, did you?"

That was, in fact, exactly what he had been thinking. Though, now that he thought about it, it was fairly obvious there would be a better mode of reaching Hogwarts than by foot: it was all the way over a hill and through a passage in the forest, which was an hazard for his coordination and also kind of spooky, to be honest. Harry had said it was forbidden – the Forbidden Forest, he had called it, which made him wonder exactly what kind of horrors it hid in its depths. It reminded Percy a bit of the woods at Camp, stocked with monsters and other dangers for those Demigods brave – or foolish – enough to fight them.

The carriages were waiting in line just behind a bend in the road; a few of them had already disappeared beyond the darkness of the forest.

Percy squinted. He caught sight of dark, horse-like shapes leading the vehicles away at a fast pace.

He held Harry back by the sleeve of his robes, letting Ron and Hermione pass them by. The girl gave them a curious glance, but she didn't stop to question him. She was probably worried he wasn't taking all the new things around him as well as he should. She was almost right.

"Is everything okay?"

Percy met Harry's concerned eyes. He was once again struck by their vivid green colour, so different from his own. "Yeah. Just...what pulls the carriages?"

Harry stared, perplexed. "Nothing. They move by magic." He studied him keenly. "Are you sure you are feeling well?"

"Of course," Percy lied, because, damn it, had it been a trick of the light or was he seeing things? That couldn't be a good sign. "I was just curious."

Harry didn't look convinced, but Ron's voice reclaimed their attention before he could say anything. "Hoy! This one is empty! Move it, will you?"

Percy followed his cousin, ignoring Hermione scolding Ron for his rudeness, his gaze intent on the could-be-hallucinations attached to the carriage. They didn't disappear as he got closer, but instead became more visible. Long, thin legs formed from the shadows; elongated snouts and bony bodies took shape under his startled eyes.

He stopped a few feet from the carriage. The creatures did look like horses in a way: fleshless, reptilian horses. Every bone was visible through their sleek black coat, giving them the unsettling appearance of walking skeletons. Their eyes were misty white, sunken deeply into their dragonish heads. What had looked to him like bulky protuberances from afar turned out to be wings, leathery like those of a bat and twitching restlessly against their ribs.

One of them twisted around and Percy swallowed audibly. Despite its pupil-less eyes, it was staring straight at him. He had thought they were blind.

Young Lord.

Percy leaped back, colliding with an older student walking by. The other boy steadied him with an hand on his elbow before continuing on his way, but Percy was too concentrated on the winged horses to thank him. "What?"

"Percy?" Harry stuck his head out of the carriage's window. "Are you coming?"

He swallowed audibly. "I – yes, sure."

He kept the horses in his line of sight as he moved closer. He didn't want to give Harry and his friends reasons to doubt his mental stability, but those creatures freaked the hell out of him. He wasn't going to turn his back on them.

A foreign feeling of amusement briefly touched his mind. Come visit us, Little Lord.

A violent shiver ran down his spine and his whole body shook, a feeling comparable to being hit by one of Zeus' bolts. The mental voice had come from the creatures: he could hear their words and even feel their emotions. That settled it – someway, somehow, those animals were one of his father's creations.

He hopped into the carriage, smiling in what he hoped was a reassuring fashion. Harry and Hermione didn't look convinced; Ron didn't seem to have noticed anything out of the ordinary. What are you?, he pushed the thought the horses' way.

Come visit us, they repeated, You'll know where to find us.

The vehicle pulled away and Percy felt the horses' minds retreat from his. Despite this, he spent good part of the journey with his head halfway out of the window, prodding at their consciousness. The animals kept up their pace, stubbornly ignoring his pitiful attempts at re-establishing a contact.

He gave up only when the glint of moonlight on water caught his wayward attention.

They were galloping along the western shore of the lake. He didn't need to touch it to know it was a body of fresh water, but it was still part of his father's realm and that was good enough.

The repetitive, sloshing sound of the water lulled him. He felt his lids getting heavier and he had to force himself to stay awake. It wasn't easy, not after a sleepless night. The vibrancy of the lives thriving beneath the waves assaulted his senses like bright lights in an otherwise dark night, distracting him from the rest of the world. Hundreds of creatures, small and big, hid in the black depths of the lake: their existence was a perpetual buzzing at the back of his mind.

After a while he became aware of the numerous boats silently traversing the loch, their path illuminated only by the fires of old-fashioned lanterns swaying in the breeze. Black-cloaked children sat in each of them.

"It's the first years," said an unfamiliar voice.

Percy swirled around and found himself face to face with a plump blond-haired boy he had never seen before. The stranger smiled tentatively, his lips parting around slightly crooked front teeth.

"It's a tradition here at Hogwarts," he went on, "New students always arrive by boat. We'll leave the same way at the end of our seventh year."

Percy's mouth formed an 'o' of surprise. "Er, thanks. I didn't know that. You are...?"

The other boy blushed and mumbled something Percy didn't catch.

"He's Neville," Harry answered for him. "He's in our year and a Gryffindor like us. Neville, this is Percy Jackson, my –"

"Cousin, right?" Neville interrupted. His face went from red to puce in the next second and he looked alarmed. "You said on the train...and I thought since I had never seen him before...and he isn't wearing house colours..." he stammered hastily.

Harry smiled gently. "Breath, Neville. Yeah, he's my cousin."

"Nice to meet you, man," Percy said. A feeling of protection for the painfully shy boy surged through him. How had he missed his presence in the carriage? Not only was it rude, but it was also stupidly dangerous. Chiron would have him washing dishes with lava for a week if he found out. He always lectured him on minding his surroundings – 'lest you get bitten by another poisonous scorpion', he would say.

Neville's blue eyes fell on his outstretched hand and he grabbed it hesitatingly. "N-nice to me you too."

The carriage stumbled to a stop. Hermione pulled the door open and they filed out. The horses had halted in front of huge oak doors, which opened into a vast entrance hall and a wide marble staircase.

Until we meet again, Little Lord.

He threw the skeletal horses one last speculative glance before following the boisterous crowd up the stairs and into the hall. Purple fires burned vivaciously in brass braziers on either side of the doors, heating up the otherwise cold stone room.

"That's the Great Hall." Harry pointed at the double doors on the right of the hall. Percy glimpsed four long tables and colourful banners as they walked forward, half pushed by the students behind them. "It's where we eat and hold special events, like the sorting."

"The sorting?" Percy asked, trying to see more of the Great Hall over the heads of his fellow students. "You mean the House thing?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. " 'House thing'? Honestly!"

Harry snickered under his breath. "Yeah, the 'House thing'," he frowned. "What about you? Dumbledore told me you weren't going to be sorted with the firsties. Did he say anything to you?"

Percy felt a pang of discomfort in his chest. He shrugged. "Maybe I should just come with you and wait."

"McGonagall should be around here somewhere." Ron, the tallest of them, strained his neck to look over the crowd. "We can ask –"

"Potter! Hey, Potter!" a drawling voice cut into their conversation.

Percy heard Harry curse softly as he turned around to stare at the newcomer. It was a boy their age wearing a silver and green tie. He had elbowed his way past a bunch of students and was now blocking their passage to the Great Hall, sneering maliciously. Percy hadn't seen his pale and pointy face before, but he recognized the platinum blond hair, slicked back with what had to be a ton of gel, at once. He was the one who had been mocking Harry on the train.

He felt his hackles rise.

The blond was flanked by two burly boys whose mean scowls could've rivalled Clarisse's. Percy thought they looked like particularly dumb bodyguards.

"Malfoy." Harry's voice was pained, as if he couldn't stand to be in the other boy's presence for more than a few seconds. "What do you want?"

The newly dubbed Malfoy smirked. "I heard you fainted, Potter. Is that true? Did you really faint?" he taunted loudly, making sure everyone in their proximity heard him.

Harry's cheeks coloured lightly.

"Get lost, Malfoy!" Ron spat out. "No one wants to hear what you have to say!"

The blond sneered. "I see the Weasel and the Mudblood are here too."

Hermione tensed at his side and gasps echoed across the crowd. Whatever Malfoy had called her, it wasn't complementary.

The boy's gaze almost passed over him in disregard, but then he did a double take. "Well, well." He simpered. "What do we have here? Have you found another trusty side-kick, Potty?"

Percy retorted before Harry could, having had enough of Gel-boy's attitude. "What dye do you use? Because it looks fake as hell. You should invest in a better hairstylist."

A startled hush fell over the closest students. Harry and Ron smothered a laugh, while Hermione grabbed his elbow, hissing his name in warning. Percy ignored her: he had dealt with worse bullies than this gelled upstart.

Malfoy sneered contemptuously. "You need to teach your lapdogs some manners, Scarhead. This," he spat out, turning his icy eyes on Percy, "is my natural hair colour. It's something we Malfoys have in common. Not that I would expect a commoner like you to know."

Percy snorted, not at all put out by Malfoy's would be subtle insults. "Even an idiot would see that colour is an unnatural abomination. Which, by the way, includes your bodyguards. You're not fooling anyone." Ugly red blotches spread over Malfoy's cheeks and neck and Percy almost gave into the temptation to smile. "Or perhaps you fell into a barrel of bleach as a child. Is that what happened?"

The curious students that had stopped to watch the unfolding drama laughed uproariously.

Stupid Bodyguard One and Stupid Bodyguard Two took a threatening step forward, pounding a fist against open palms like every good villain in a cliché movie. Percy wondered if they had even realized he had offended them or if they were just reacting to their boss' facial expressions.

Malfoy stared at him in disgust. "You little –"

"What's going on here?" a stern voice interrupted whatever Malfoy had been about to say.

Professor McGonagall appeared as if out of thin air behind the few students still lingering. They parted like the Red Sea to let her through, which she did with regal poise. Scarier and scarier, Percy thought.

Her eyes narrowed on Malfoy, her nostrils quivering as if she could smell trouble. "You are blocking the traffic, Mr Malfoy. Move along, all of you!" she barked. "The welcoming feast is about to begin."

They scampered, Malfoy muttering darkly under his breath. Percy and the rest of his group made to follow, but McGonagall held them back.

"Potter, Granger and Jackson. Come with me."

Percy threw Harry a questioning glance; his cousin shrugged and joined McGonagall by the staircase.

"Not you Weasley."

Ron, who had been trailing after Hermione, ground to a halt at the professor's command, his eyes a bit wide. "But –"

"No 'buts', Weasley. Wait for your friends in the Great Hall with the rest of the students. They'll join you soon enough."

McGonagall led them up the stairs and to a spacious office a few corridors from the Hall. During the journey, Percy had to be pulled along multiple times as he was often distracted by the moving – moving! – paintings that hung on the walls. He had never seen something like that. He wondered if they were alive, somehow, or just a really believable imitation of life.

Either way, they were awesome, but they did terrible thing to his already unreliable attention span.

Waiting for them in what Percy guessed was McGonagall's office was a grey-haired witch dressed in flowing burgundy robes. She fell on Harry like a vulture on a mouse, fussing over him and scolding him for getting in trouble at the same time, which Percy found hilarious. Judging by Harry's disgruntled expression, he didn't agree one bit.

Hermione explained to him in a fast whisper that the woman was Madam Pomfrey, the school's mediwitch. "That's like a doctor or a nurse."

"While we wait for Mr Potter to be checked for injuries," began Professor McGonagall, breezily ignoring Harry's 'I don't need to be checked!', "we can take care of the matter of your sorting, Mr Jackson."

Percy startled. "Oh, like, right now?"

Professor McGonagall gave him a stern look over the rim of her glasses. It made him feel singularly stupid. "Yes, Mr Jackson, now."

She lifted an old, patched-up witch hat from her desk and offered it to him. Percy stared at it in befuddlement. There was absolutely nothing special about the hat. If anything, it looked one strong breath away from blowing to dust and he was sure he had seen at least one spider scuttle across its wide rim. He didn't want that thing anywhere near his head.

"Er, okay. Am I supposed to pull a rabbit out of it or...?"

Hermione tutted disapprovingly and Harry tried to disguise a laugh by coughing loudly. Percy guessed that was payback for his earlier amusement at his cousin's predicament.

The professor's lips pressed into a thin line. "Mr Jackson," she pronounced slowly, as if speaking to a mentally challenged child, "the first years are waiting for the Hat. Would you prefer to be sorted with them perhaps?"

Percy swallowed. Damn, she could be scary. She was like an older, sterner and magical version of Annabeth. Not that Annabeth wasn't magical in her own way. Focus, Percy. "Nope, here works just as well." He took the hat from her hands. "So..."

"Wear it." McGonagall waved impatiently. "And you should probably sit down. The Hat can be kind of...unexpected."

Percy did as he was told with a deep breath. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harry bite his lip in a worried manner while trying to push Madam Pomfrey's hands away from his face. Then he let the hat fall on his head – Please, tell me that spider was an hallucination – and his world plunged into darkness.

'I assure you, Mr Jackson, there are no spiders on me. I care about my hygiene.'

Percy almost catapulted himself out of his seat. What the fuck?!

'Language, Mr Jackson. No need to be crass.'

No need to be – had he just been scolded by a hat? What had his life turned into? First the horses from Hades and now a piece of clothing. If it had been the hat talking and not...something else.

'And what else? Don't be silly, my boy. Of course it's me. I'm the Sorting Hat. Usually you'd be treated to one of my inspired vocal performances, but these are hardly usual circumstances.'

That explained so much. Harry had refused to tell him how students were sorted, saying that it would be funnier if he found out on the spot (funnier for him, Percy supposed), but he had admitted that there was a magical device involved.

'Aye, sorting students has been my job for almost a millennia, Mr Jackson.' The Hat confirmed. 'Talking about which, we should really get started. I do hate to make children wait.'

Percy wondered how exactly it worked. Was it – he? – going to quiz him? Because he hated surprise quizzes with a passion. Or could he just choose the House he liked best? Not that he knew any of them beside Harry's House, Gryffindor, and even that just by name. His mom had brought him a book on Hogwarts, but he had chucked it at the bottom of his trunk and promptly forgotten about it.

'I'm not going to quiz you, Mr Jackson,' the Hat said to his unending relief, 'and while I'll keep your personal opinions in mind, I won't allow you to choose your own House either. What I'll do is read inside of you – your memories and your aspirations – and place you where you are most likely to achieve your full potential and find companionship.'

Percy froze. If the Hat could see his memories then he would find out about –

He aborted the thought before it could take shape.

'What a pity.' The Hat sounded disappointed – if it was even possible for an accessory to feel disappointment. 'I've sorted an handful of students like you – whatever you are – over the centuries, but they were all rather apt at hiding the truth from my mind.'

He frowned. When he had contacted – his mind skirted around the name of his mentor – he had said there were no other children like him at Hogwarts that he knew of. Of course, he could be wrong: no matter how omniscient (nice Annabeth-worthy vocabulary, Jackson!) he could seem, he didn't really know everything. He hadn't known about him until a few months ago. Or maybe they were all past students. It seemed to him that the Hat had been 'alive' for almost as long as Hogwarts after all.

'Well, we've wasted enough time! So, my boy. As you probably don't know, Hogwarts was founded a thousand years ago by the four greatest witches and wizards of their time: Helga Hufflepuff, Salazar Slytherin,'

Oh Gods, not an history lesson.

'Rowena Ravenclaw and Godric Gryffindor. Pay attention, Mr Jackson. A bit of historical knowledge is not going to kill you.' The Hat scolded. 'The four houses are named after them. Hufflepuff is for the loyal and hardworking, Gryffindor for the brave and chivalrous, Slytherin for the cunning and ambitious and Ravenclaw for the wise and studious.' He lectured.

Well, at least he already knew which house he would not end up in.

'I see we agree. Yes, while you certainly possess a healthy dose of ingenuity and more wit than advisable, I do not believe Ravenclaw would suit you. Your unwillingness to read the book your mother got you is proof enough that you don't love knowledge for knowledge's sake, which is perhaps a Ravenclaw's greatest asset.

'You are loyal. Oh, you are very loyal. To the point of self-sacrifice, I dare say. Helga would've appreciated such steadfastness, but so would've Godric.'

The Hat made it sound as if he had met them in person.

'I did. I'm one of Godric's creations. But back to you, Mr Jackson. You are hardworking when it comes to things you care about, but lazy when it's something you don't consider important. You are prone to bursts of anger and impulsiveness – both traits I usually associate with Gryffindor.'

The Hat wasn't the first one to remark upon his rashness. Both his mom and Annabeth had warned him that it was bound to get him in more trouble than he could get out of one day and even his father, who wasn't known for his prudence, had offered a word of caution.

'It doesn't have to be a bad thing, Mr Jackson. In fact, I do believe that your devotion to your friends balances it out somewhat.' The Hat reassured him. 'As you have probably realized, all of this makes Hufflepuff a good fit for you, but then again, the same can be said about Gryffindor and Slytherin. You are cunning, you know how to exploit a weakness to your advantage and you certainly can think on your feet, but I fear you are not ambitious enough for Salazar's house. Which leaves us with two choices, Mr Jackson: bravery or loyalty. Which one defines you more?'

Percy's breath caught. He had a feeling that question was more decisive than it should be and he had no idea what to say. Or maybe he did: loyalty he had in spades, bravery on the other hand...no matter how hard he tried, he often felt anything but courageous.

'Mh, interesting.'

Percy looked up at the large brim of the Hat obscuring his face as if he could see its – his expression. What was interesting?

The Hat ignored his thought. 'Whatever the answer to that question may be, Mr Jackson, bear in mind that sometimes loyalty to your friends will pull you through, while other times you must have the courage to put that same loyalty aside and do what's necessary. Will you be able to do it, I wonder?'

He didn't even know what the dusty thing was talking about. What kind of choice could be more important than his own friends and family?

'I take offence to that. I didn't say more important; I said necessary. You'll see, give it time.' He sighed, surprising Percy once again with just how human he sounded. 'You are a difficult one, my boy, truly difficult. I think that your loyalty to those you love comes above everything else and that there is no stronger wish in you than that to protect them from harm. But...I also believe that sometimes those traits we look up to and try with all our strength to make ours are more defining and crucial than those we are born with. All your life you have been brave, even when all you wanted to do was run away and hide,' Percy held his breath, 'and so I say you should go to GRYFFINDOR!'

Percy heard the Hat shout the last word to the room. He took it off of his head from its pointy end, squinting against the sudden light that assaulted his eyes after long minutes of almost complete darkness.

Harry and Hermione were clapping. There was a wild grin on his cousin's face and some of the tension oppressing Percy's chest lifted. He could breath easily again.

He wasn't going to deny it: being put in the same House as Harry was a relief. He had been worried about being completely alone in a new environment.

"Well done, Mr Jackson."

The silent Hat was taken from his limp hands by a smiling Professor McGonagall. It was probably the second smile he had ever seen on her face and it gave him a warm feeling in his chest. McGonagall was the kind of woman who made you wish for her approval.

"From this day until your graduation from Hogwarts, you will be part of Gryffindor House. As the Head of House, I hope you'll make us proud."

She waved her wand and colours appeared on his previously grey tie. The Gryffindor crest, a roaring lion, swirled into existence on his robes, right over his heart, seemingly sewing itself on the fabric.

Percy fingered the gold and red tie, a grin on his face.

"Now that that's settled," McGonagall went on, "I'd like to speak with Miss Granger alone for a minute. You can wait for her outside."

Harry glanced questioningly at his friend, but she waved them on. With a shrug and one last look at the Hat, Percy opened the door and they stepped outside. Only then did he realize that Madam Pomfrey must've left the office as he was being sorted.

"Do you know why she wanted to talk to Hermione?" he asked once the girl had shut the door behind them.

Harry raised his shoulders. "She said something about her schedule on the train. That's probably it." Then he added, still smiling, "I'm glad you are in Gryffindor."

Percy grinned back. "Me too, man. But I wouldn't have minded Hufflepuff either, or Slytherin." He slid with his back against the wall until he was sitting on the cold stone floor.

Harry grimaced. "But then you'd have had to share a dorm with Malfoy."

Percy faked a shudder. "Right. I can't imagine that would've been a pleasant experience."

"Not after what you told him. He's probably meditating revenge right now." He cocked his head to the side, ignoring Percy's unimpressed snort. "Not Ravenclaw?" at his curious look, he elaborated, "You said you wouldn't have minded Hufflepuff or Slytherin, but not Ravenclaw."

"Wisdom is not exactly my most defining characteristic," he admitted. "The Hat seemed to think so too."

"Well, the Hat usually knows best, even when it doesn't seem so."

"Yeah," Percy mumbled distractedly. With all this talk of Houses, his mind had flown back to the Hat's puzzling advice, if it could be called as such.

Percy wasn't sure what he had meant, but it had sounded rather ominous. What kind of choice would require him to leave behind his friends and why would he ever do that? Of course, with a prophecy hanging over his head, even if he didn't have the faintest what it said, everything was possible.

Harry made a strange sound in the back of his throat. "Dementors," he said, staring out of the tall window on the other side of the corridor.

Black, fluttering shapes moved in and out of sight, obscuring the stars. Percy recognized them at once.

"Lupin did say they would be patrolling the grounds," he pointed out.

Harry grimaced. Percy couldn't blame him: he wasn't happy to be sharing a school – or, you know, a planet – with those things either and he, at least, hadn't fainted.

"How come they guard the prison?" he wondered.

Harry didn't answer for a long moment, probably taken aback by his question. It was a bit out of the blue, but it was something that had been on his mind since their conversation on the train and now seemed a good moment to ask. There was no one to overhear them.

"I'm not sure," Harry admitted. He glanced outside again, a calculating look on his face. "I never thought to ask."

"It's just..." he hesitated, not wishing to offend his cousin, "it seems kind of cruel, to subject people to them, even if they're criminal."

Harry inspired deeply. "Yeah. A bit."

They lapsed into silence after that, both of them absorbed by their thoughts. Percy recalled what his father had told him about wizards, that at the end of the day they were no different from non-magical mortals, though some of them considered themselves better. Dementors seemed nothing less than the magical answer to torture as far as he was concerned.

When Hermione and McGonagall rejoined them a few minutes later, the girl looking extremely satisfied, he was still sitting on the floor, contemplating what an inhumane punishment awaited those who committed crimes in wizarding society.

He hung at the back of the group as they retraced their steps to the Entrance Hall. If his cousin noticed his suddenly antisocial behaviour he didn't say anything, but then again, he was a bit busy trying to interrogate Hermione on her private conversation with the professor.

The woman disappeared into a smaller side room with the Hat as soon as they reached the front doors, but Percy barely paid her any mind, too taken by his first proper look of the Great Hall.

The floating candles were what first caught his attention. There were thousands of them, suspended in mid-air above four long tables, each of them crowded by students. Sparkling golden plates and goblets laid on the tablecloths. They came in different colours: green and silver on the table to the far right, bronze and blue and black and yellow on the middle tables and red and gold on the one to the far left. Percy guessed those were the Houses colours.

At the end of the Hall stood another table, this one occupied by adults. Albus Dumbledore sat among them, on a throne like chair at the centre of the table. He was staring at the ceiling, seemingly humming to himself as he waited for the Feast to begin.

Percy raised his gaze too. "Oh, wow..." he stumbled to a stop, his eyes so wide he was sure they were going to pop out of their sockets. He had thought that Dumbledore was staring at the ceiling, but that wasn't exactly right because there was no ceiling to stare at. The stars winked at him from the velvety blackness of the night sky where stone was supposed to be.

How did they keep the elements out? He guessed they used magic not dissimilar from the one that protected Camp Half-Blood (at least on the days Zeus wasn't pissed off at them).

"It's enchanted to look like that." Hermione whispered. "It's not really the night sky."

Well, that was disappointing. Still kinda cool, though.

"Guys," Harry interrupted them, "people are staring. Let's go."

He was right. The students closer to the double doors were craning their necks to get a better look at them and some had even gotten up from their seats. Percy wondered if it was because he was new.

Luckily, Ron had saved them seats so they didn't have to stand around like idiots looking for free ones. He grinned when he saw Percy's red and gold tie.

"I knew you'd make it, mate!" he thumped him on the back as Percy sat down. "What did McGonagall want?"

Harry shrugged. "She wanted to make sure I was okay after what happened with the Dementor. And she needed to talk with Hermione, but she won't tell me what about."

Hermione rolled her eyes at his catty tone. "I told you. She just wanted to talk about my schedule."

Percy, who had gone back to gaping at the enchanted ceiling, turned to look at her. "Because of all those electives you are taking?"

Maybe it had been a trick of his mind, but he was sure he saw Hermione's hand tremble slightly around the long stem of her empty glass. "Yeah," she answered shortly.

The doors opening brought their conversation to a halt.

About forty children were ushered inside by McGonagall. The woman herself walked to the front of the line, emanating the usual aura of authority and command, the sorting Hat in hand. She marched up the dais to the teachers' table and set the Hat down on a three legged stool that Percy was sure hadn't been there before.

Hermione leaned over the table, motioning him to do the same. "It's the sorting," she explained in a whisper, "we probably would've missed it if you hadn't needed to use the Hat."

Percy felt suddenly quite thankful he didn't have to stand in line with those kids, waiting for his turn to be sorted under the watchful eyes of hundreds of teenagers.

The clatter in the Hall died down abruptly as a rip near the brim of the Hat opened wide. Notes tumbled out, filling the silence, and Percy's eyes widened.

It was singing.

From the completely unsurprised faces around him, Percy guessed that was a fairly normal occurrence. In fact, hadn't the Hat said something about his 'outstanding vocal performances' or something like that?

Still, a talking Hat was one thing; a singing Hat was a whole new level of weirdness. He had apparently fallen into the rabbit's hole and ended up in a musical.

The students burst into applause as the song came to a close. Percy saw the twins whistling loudly a few seats down from them. Professor McGonagall produced a scroll of parchment from her robes and began reading names from it. By the time the third red-cheeked child had been sorted, Percy had already lost interest in the whole affair.

He concentrated on his fellow students instead, clapping to welcome new members when the rest of Gryffindor did.

His eyes singled out the Weasley siblings almost unconsciously, their peculiar hair colour giving them away at once. Other-Percy sat straight backed at the end of the table closest to the teachers, his attention never derailing from the sorting. He was always the first one to welcome new Gryffindors. The Twins were holding what appeared to be an animated debate smack-dab in the middle of the table. The only one keeping to herself seemed to be Ginny. While surrounded by a number of girls, she wasn't talking to anybody and her eyes never raised from her plate the whole time Percy looked at her. Strange – she hadn't come off as shy to him.

Sitting to Ron's left were two boys probably their age chatting in low tones; right next to them was Neville, the boy from the carriage, who smiled at him shyly.

At the table at the other hand of the Hall, Malfoy was entertaining a crowd of kids in green and silver with what appeared to be the extremely exaggerated rendition of someone fainting. Percy narrowed his eyes: there was no mistaking what the blond was doing. He was just glad Harry hadn't noticed it, too taken by the sorting to worry about the platinum menace.

He raised his eyes back on the enchanted ceiling. The stars were definitely more worthy of attention than Malfoy could ever hope to be. His mind instinctively sought out the constellations Annabeth had taught him about. While many had slipped from his memory, he could still recognize a few: Cassiopeia, Andromeda, Pegasus and, of course, Perseus. He didn't think he could ever forget that one, if only because it was dedicated to his namesake.

It was like being back at Camp, having dinner in the pavilion after a day of strenuous activities. All it needed was the brazier for sacrifices and he would feel right at home.

A new round of applause forced his attention back on the Hall. His eyes fell on the table closest to Malfoy's, the one occupied by the students in blue and bronze. They were all following the sorting with keen, almost analytical interest, reinforcing the unsettling feeling of being back at Camp, staring at Athena's table. Probably for this reason a head of dirty blonde curls caught his attention. The small girl it belonged to was sitting alone at a corner of the table, a few empty seats separating her from the rest of her House-mates. It made Percy inexplicably sad, maybe because he recognized himself in that image, at least the himself before Camp, when he didn't have any friends. The blonde girl didn't seem to have that many either.

As if sensing his scrutiny, she raised her eyes from the plate and met his squarely. Percy blushed, but the girl didn't look annoyed. She smiled and waved cheerfully, unmindful of the odd stares she was attracting from the students closest to her. Percy grinned in response and was about to wave back when Harry snapped his fingers right in front of his face, distracting him.

"You still with us?" he asked.

"Oh, I – yeah, I mean..." his eyes swept across the Hall, but the girl had gone back to playing with her fork. "Nothing. I was just looking around."

"It's magnificent, isn't it? I never thought something like this could exist before getting my letter."

Percy's heart gave a squeeze. His cousin still sounded so fascinated by Hogwarts, even though he had been attending for over two years.

There were moments he felt the same about Camp, before remembering that it came with a world of bloodthirsty monsters and vengeful Gods. Was that a steep price to pay? He didn't know. And he didn't know what Harry would've to give back to the world for his own personal miracle.

Once the last student had been sorted amid the clapping of her new housemates, Dumbledore got up with a bright smile on his face.

He spread his arms wide, as if he could somehow embrace them all. "Welcome, students, to a new year at Hogwarts! I hope you enjoyed fruitful holidays and that you didn't forget everything you learned last year. Your professors would not be pleased."

A scattering of giggles broke through the silence.

"Before the Feast can begin, I have a few announcements to make. As you've no doubt noticed, Dementors are guarding the castle. After recent...happenings, it was decided by our Minister that one more line of defence couldn't hurt. The Dementors are here to protect us and will stay as long as necessary."

Percy thought he didn't sound happy about that. It seemed no one liked those creatures.

"Despite this, I feel it's my duty to warn you that Dementors are not known for their merciful nature."

Anxious and troubled mutterings echoed throughout the Hall.

"As such, I would advise you all to stay out of their way and to remember that they're not to be tricked by magical disguises or even Invisibility Cloaks." His clear blue eyes darted their way for the briefest of moments as he paused to let his warning sink in.

Well, he needn't worry. He had never even heard of Invisibility Cloaks before that moment.

"I trust our new Head Boy and Girl will make sure no student is to be found out of their dormitory after curfew." He stared down his crooked nose at both a glowing Percy Weasley and a curly haired girl wearing a blue and bronze tie. "On to happier notes, I'm proud to introduce two new members of our staff. I hope you'll welcome them with open arms."

He gestured to Lupin, who got to his feet hesitatingly.

"Professor Remus Lupin will be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts."

Students clapped rather unenthusiastically. Percy noticed a number of them eyeing Lupin's shabby robes with sneers on their faces. As far as he was concerned, that was more reason to welcome him warmly: the man could do with a confidence boost.

Lupin smiled serenely, not at all fazed by the mostly cold welcome.

"The second addition is our very own Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to teach Care of Magical Creatures now that Professor Kettleburn retired."

There was a moment of startled silence and then Gryffindor table erupted into tumultuous applause.

Percy pushed himself away from Ron, staring wide-eyed as he pounded his fists on the table. "What the–?"

"I can't believe Professor Dumbledore appointed Hagrid teacher," Hermione shrieked excitedly, her hands clapping furiously, "Oh, he's bound to be so happy!"

"He's our friend!" Harry shouted over the noise. "We'll introduce you soon!"

Percy could only nod.

He glanced at the Head table, his eyes taking in the big, bearded man who had gotten up at Dumbledore's announcement. Big might've been an understatement: he was gigantic, or at least very close to it. He looked kind of how Percy imagined Cyclops to be, only with two eyes instead of one. Maybe that was normal in the wizarding world, but he didn't think the man was a hundred percent human (not that he had any room to talk).

He should've been scary, with his beard covered face and wild, untamed hair, and yet there was something terribly...fragile about him, as if a rude word could undo him.

Maybe it was because he was quite obviously crying: Percy didn't think monsters cried often.

Silence was restored when Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat, ready to resume his speech.

Ron decided that he had listened enough for one evening and began a whispered conversation. "Merlin's pants, Snape looks pissed."

He pointed at a greasy-haired, sallow skinned professor sitting near McGonagall, Percy guessed for his benefit as the new student.

His eyebrows arched. Ron was right: the man was glaring at Lupin, appearing downright murderous. He whistled under his breath. "Do they know each-other?" That level of animosity couldn't come out of nowhere.

"Don't think so," said Harry. He was studying the professor surreptitiously, his eyes half hidden by his messy hair. "He's probably furious that Dumbledore didn't chose him to teach Defence. Again." He turned around. "Everyone knows he wants that subject."

He must've wanted it a lot because he seemed to be considering manslaughter just to get it. "What does he teach now?"

"Potions," Hermione answered tightly. "He's Head of Slytherin, just like McGonagall is ours."

Ron snorted. "Yeah, but McGonagall doesn't favour us," he gave Percy a meaningful glance, ignoring Hermione's protest of 'Snape doesn't favour Slytherin either. Much.', "He's a right git, mate, and he hates us Gryffindor. Just wait until the first Potions lesson and you'll see."

When neither Harry nor Hermione denied it, something heavy settled in Percy's stomach.

Perfect. Just perfect, he thought pessimistically. He glanced one more time Snape's way to see he was still glowering at Lupin.

Oh yeah, he had a feeling they were going to be the best of friends.

/

Dinner ended late into the evening. Over it, Percy was introduced to his fellow Gryffindors. Dean and Seamus, who would share a dorm with them, just like Neville, and Lavender and Parvati, the only two other girls in their year. They all seemed quite surprised to learn that Harry had a cousin from the US, but they welcomed him with no hesitation. On his part, Percy found himself a bit taken aback by such a small class. Only eight students – nine, if he counted himself amongst them – in their year and House.

Just as the main courses disappeared to make space for dessert, translucent forms materialized seemingly straight out of the tables. Percy jumped on his seat, his fork and knife slipping from his suddenly rigid fingers.

One of the greyish-silver figure stared at him, appearing almost as startled as Percy was by his presence.

"Well, what's this? A student I've never seen before? You look too old to be a first year!" It exclaimed.

He exclaimed, Percy corrected himself. The being had the appearance of a man and he was obviously sentient, which made referring to him as an 'it' sound kind of disrespectful.

"Good-evening, Nick." Harry grinned at him. "Did you have a good summer?"

Nick nodded, turning away from Percy to regard Harry pompously. "Same old, same old, my boy. The Headless Hunt rejected my request for admission again!" he huffed, "I dare say I'm almost getting used to it."

"I'm really sorry, Nick."

Percy looked from one to the other, trying to make sense of what he was hearing. Whatever the 'Headless Hunt' was, his cousin sounded truly regretful that the...man hadn't been accepted into it.

"But tell me, young Potter," Nick faced him again, "who is the new boy? It wouldn't do for the most important ghost of Gryffindor not to know a member of our esteemed House!"

Only one word of that litany stood out to him: 'ghost'. It was a pretty obvious conclusion now that he thought about it. There weren't many transparent supernatural beings as far as he knew.

"This is Percy Jackson, my cousin," Harry introduced him. "Percy, this is Sir Nicholas. He's Gryffindor's ghost."

Though not entirely sure what that entailed, Percy smiled at him. "It's a pleasure to meet you." He didn't offer his hand; he was pretty certain ghosts couldn't actually touch people or things.

The ghost floated closer and Percy noticed the temperature around them drop slightly. "Mh, I can sort of see the resemblance. Well, we are glad to welcome you to Hogwarts and to Gryffindor, young Percy!"

The rather unexpected meeting left Percy wondering where exactly ghosts came from. He had seen spirits waiting for judgement in the Underworld, but he doubted any of them were allowed to come back to the world of the living, albeit as...not living. If they could, there would probably be a heck of a lot more at Camp or even in the mortal world. What made the twenty or so pearly white souls hovering around the Hall different?

Once even the last crumb of dessert had been eaten, and after Dumbledore had once again got up to wish them all a good-night and a pleasant start of term (what a funny guy!), Other-Percy, in his role as Head-Guy, escorted them to the Gryffindor's dormitory.

Percy did his best to memorise the route, but he was feeling quite sated and sleepy after the heavy dinner they had just had. Chiron would've had a coronary had he seen him: a whole summer of eating healthy ruined in one evening. Percy resolved to never tell him.

Gryffindor's Common Room turned out to be in one of the towers, which gave them an unobstructed and frankly breathtaking view of good part of the grounds and of the forest. He thought it would be interesting to explore it, despite – or maybe because of – the rules clearly stating that it was forbidden. In the back of his mind, he wondered if Harry and his friends had ever ventured inside it.

Course, the dementors would be a problem, more so than the teachers and Other-Percy. A shiver shook his body as he remembered the creature from the train. He shoved a hand into the pocket of his trousers and his fingers curled around Riptide reassuringly.

The Common Room itself was circular and...red, was the first thing Percy noticed. Outrageously red. Red carpets, red squashy armchairs strategically placed around a large fireplace, scarlet tapestries on the walls. Wherever he turned, the colour red burned into his irises. It was cosy and warm, but perhaps a bit too much.

He followed Harry and the rest of the boys up a set of spiral staircases and to what would be their dorm for the rest of the year. He located his bed in a matter of seconds: it was the farthest from the door, and his trunk and duffel bag rested at its foot.

Once again, red was everywhere, from the canopy to the covers and even the curtains, half-drawn in front of the windows. There were two of them on the curved side of the dorm with his bed right in the middle. Percy didn't mind one bit.

He dumped his bag's content on the bed as the other boys changed into their pyjamas and he unearthed his sweat and the shirt he slept in from the mess of clothes. His housemates kept up a steady stream of chatter as they got ready for bed, but he listened with only half an ear.

He wanted to call his mom and tell her that everything had gone well – dementor notwithstanding – but he knew he'd have to wait until he was sure he would be alone. He couldn't risk anyone seeing him use an Iris Message.

The same went for Annabeth, who had made him promise to contact her as soon and as often as possible.

Once the dorm was empty, probably right before either lunch or dinner, he'd use the bathroom, at least until he found a better place. There were bound to be abandoned rooms in a castle this big.

"I don't know, guys. Lupin didn't look like much," Seamus was saying, shoving his half-folded uniform into his trunk. "I mean, Lockhart was an idiot, but at least he didn't look starved."

Ron shook his head vehemently. "That's because you didn't see him with that dementor. He was frigging awesome, mate! Tell him, Harry."

"He threw it out of the compartment with just one spell," his cousin confirmed, "I think he'll be a good teacher."

Dean snorted loudly. "It would be a new experience."

Neville, who had already slipped under the covers, leaned towards Percy despite the two beds separating them. "Our previous Defence professors were..." he trailed off, unsure.

"They were a joke," Dean finished for him, "and neither of them lasted longer than a year."

Harry sat on the edge of his bed. He and Seamus had the beds closest to Percy's, with only the windows between them. "Some people think that the position is jinxed."

"Jinxed?" Percy frowned. "You mean cursed?"

Harry nodded. "No one managed to keep it two years in a row in decades."

"Maybe Lupin will be luckier," Seamus offered, apparently having realized that he was outnumbered in his mistrust of the scarred professor.

Ron shrugged. "Maybe."

Percy saw him and Harry exchange a meaningful glance behind the other boys' backs. He suddenly, and for no reason at all, remembered Flitwick's tales about the last two Defence professors at Hogwarts. He knew Harry had something to do with their...precocious retirement and it was obvious Ron was in on it too (and maybe had even had an active hand in it). Their other classmates, though, didn't seem to be informed.

"I hope so," Neville mumbled, "he seems like a good guy."

There were murmurs of agreement from the others, even Seamus.

Percy jumped on the bed. "It doesn't seem like he'd have much of a competition."

"No competition at all, you mean," Dean said, "Still, he better know what he's doing. With Black on the run we cannot afford to have a lousy Defence teacher."

Percy violently suppressed the urge to look at Harry. Ron wasn't as subtle: he paled at the mention of Black and he glanced at his best friend with obvious worry.

"Why would Black come here?" asked Seamus, "I don't think he's all that interested in a school full of children. If I was him, I would go after You-Know-Who's former opponents and not waste time –" he snapped his mouth shut, going white as a sheet.

Dean and Neville didn't say anything, but there was no way they hadn't understood the implications of Seamus' reasoning.

Harry kept his eyes carefully averted from all of them.

Percy didn't need an in-depth knowledge of the wizarding world to know what was going on. Even if he hadn't overheard the damning conversation between Ron's parents, he would have still been able to put two and two together. Black wanted to avenge his former master; Harry had been the cause of said master's death – the conclusion was fairly straightforward.

After that conversation was a bit stilted, though it was obvious Harry was doing his best to keep everyone's thoughts away from Black and his possible plans.

They turned the lights off less than half an hour later. Ron started snoring after only a few minutes, and the others didn't take long to follow him into Morpheus' embrace.

Percy laid awake under the covers, staring at the single ray of moonlight left to illuminate the room. It was becoming increasingly obvious that everyone in wizarding Britain considered Black a real threat and he couldn't help but wonder if he perhaps hadn't been too laid-back in his reaction to Mr and Mrs Weasley's argument.

What if the professors and even the dementors weren't enough to protect Harry from him?

From Harry's suspiciously calibrated breathing, he suspected he wasn't the only one tormented by that possibility.

/

/

The setting sun painted Camp Half-Blood red and orange, drawing long shadows over the valley and across the Cabins.

Chiron contemplated the shimmering lake from the porch of the Big House, disquiet twisting his thoughts. The few demigods who hadn't left to go back to school and to their mortal families were abandoning their activities to get ready for dinner, but he could still hear the faint clanging of swords from the Arena where Clarisse and her siblings were no doubt still training.

For the first time in years, neither Annabeth nor Luke were to be found in the noisy crowd of half-bloods, though for vastly different reasons, and Chiron once again felt a pang of unease in his stomach. He didn't like the way things were shaping up.

"Your grandmother was worried, I take it?" he inquired, turning his back on the scenery to face Kikyou.

The young daughter of Apollo was sitting on one of the comfy – or so everyone said – rocking chairs, wearing a blue and white school uniform instead of the customary orange t-shirt. She had come to the Long Island Sound all the way from her house in Brooklyn just to warn him of a potential problem, though it was certainly not what he had expected after receiving her Iris Message.

She nodded. "Sobo said he's really persistent. She did tell him a few things to placate him, but not much."

He had feared as such. Dumbledore was fairly well known even in the Greek world, mostly for his interest in Death's gifts and his relationship with a former dark wizard. Aphrodite had had a field day with them, gushing about impossible love and heartbreak., that much Chiron remembered.

"Hopefully the little she revealed will keep him satisfied for a while."

Kikyou gave voice to his concern. "Do you think he could, like, find out something about us? I mean, we are well hidden, aren't we?"

His tail swished in an agitated manner. "That we are," he answered in a non-committal way, "I do not believe we have anything to worry about. Yet."

The girl appeared marginally relieved, but while he had wanted to make her feel secure, he didn't fool himself into thinking that Dumbledore's interest was harmless.

It was unlikely he would ever find them, but Dumbledore was an intelligent and shrewd man and there was no saying he wouldn't stumble upon dangerous clues. Gellert Grindelwald had certainly come close to the truth.

Because of this, Chiron was going to send a message to Olympus. Better safe than sorry, as they said, and the Gods liked to be warned about this sort of things, even when nothing came of it. Paranoid they were and no one could deny that.

"He said he was here because of a student," Kikyou went on, "Do you know anything about that?"

"No," he lied without hesitation or remorse. He knew Kikyou had only Camp's best interests in mind, but it was not his secret to share. "Only what you told me."

"Do you think he came to New York because of us?" she twisted a lock of hair around a finger, biting her lip nervously. "It's strange for the Headmaster of such an important school to take time off just for a student."

This time Chiron didn't have to lie. "Even when said student is the child who miraculously vanquished a Dark Lord before he could even talk? No, I believe he truly came to help the young Potter and that visiting your grandmother was simply a beneficial side-effect."

Dionysus chose that moment to wander out into the porch, throwing Kikyou a disdainful look as he went. The girl herself stared back at him stonily, not in the least intimidated by him.

The children were getting used to the God's presence, almost worryingly so.

"What's the brat doing here? Shouldn't she be training? As if that will keep her out of a monster's stomach!" He sat down on his usual chair by the table.

"Do try to be nice, Mr D. We talked about that," Chiron sighed, sending Kikyou's an apologetic look.

"I don't even live here during winter," the girl grumbled darkly.

"Bha!" Dionysus waved her objection away, as usual completely ignoring Chiron's scolding, "You think I keep track of all you brats? I have better things to do with my time!"

"Be that as it may," Chiron interjected swiftly, "Kikyou stopped by to share her fears over an unexpected visit her grandmother received, something that concerns us all." He smiled at her, "I don't believe it shall happen again, but in the case I'm wrong would you keep me updated?"

"Sure thing." She got up, her bad mood over Dionysus' snide remarks put aside, "I'll see you next weekend, Chiron. Goodbye, Mr D."

Chiron watched as she ran to the top of Half-Blood Hill where Argus was waiting for her. She stopped near Thalia's pine and turned around to wave, giving the valley one last look. Chiron waved back as she got into the white SUV.

"You spoil them," Dionysus said, "how are they supposed to be prepared for what's out there?"

Chiron sighed. "And you are too hard. Afraid you'll get attached?"

The God glared at him. "Only a fool would get attached to fragile things like mortals."

"You forget I've been a trainer of Heroes for a long time. They have ways of getting under your skin, whether you want it or not."

Dionysus ignored him, but Chiron didn't mind. He already knew the God was infinitely more compassionate than he seemed.

He pulled his fake wheelchair closer to the table and carefully sat down, folding first his hind legs and then the rest of his horse body into the magically expanded space. "Dumbledore was in New York a few weeks ago. He stopped by Kikyou's grandmother's house."

A goblet of Diet Coke appeared in Dionysus' hand. "Dumbledore the wizard?"

"Yes. Apparently, he is set on closing his former lover's investigation."

Dionysus made a contemplative sound at the back of his throat, sipping the beverage. "Mh. Is that what has you so worried? That a mortal wizard is going to discover all our secrets? I don't have to tell you how unlikely that is, my old friend."

Chiron shook his head. "It's not for us I'm worried about. No matter how powerful he is, he would still be little more than a nuisance to the Gods. But there are others we must think about," he looked out towards the Cabins. One of the Stoll brothers was being chased by an enraged Clarisse, spear at the ready, while a crowd of amused teenagers laughed and took bets. "There are demigods living and studying among mortals, even in Dumbledore's own school; and those who live at Camp still have to interact with the rest of the world every once in a while. If someone found out about them and made the news public, they would be in terrible danger. As you said, they are rather fragile," he sighed, "and you Gods would not be allowed to interfere."

Dionysus didn't lift his eyes from the goblet, but a deep crease had appeared over his brow. "Dumbledore would never tell anyone. He's curious, but not stupid and I believe he wouldn't want to endanger children for his own peace of mind."

"Perhaps you are correct," Chiron admitted.

Dionysus was more perspective than most gave him credit for and he understood human nature better than his fellow Gods, having once been a half-blood himself. If he didn't think Dumbledore could be a threat to the children then he probably wasn't.

"Does all of this have something to do with the Iris Message you received from uncle Poseidon's ungrateful brat?"

Chiron hid his wince. It seemed he too sometimes forgot just how observant Dionysus could be. "Ah, well, it seems young Percy is more than just a demigod. He has been invited to attend Hogwarts."

Dionysus snorted. "I knew that boy was trouble from the first time I saw him. Rude, disrespectful and a danger to our society!"

"Mr D, he isn't–"

"I don't know what Father was thinking letting him live. We should –"

The ground trembled, sending Dionysus' goblet crashing to the floor. The kids still lingering around the Cabins halted all their activities at once and they turned to stare at the sky as one, their hands around various weapons.

Dionysus rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to touch an hair on your precious whelp's head, Uncle. No need to get testy," he half-shouted to the sky. In a normal tone, he said, "Protective, isn't he?"

"As you would be if someone threatened Castor or Pollux," Chiron pointed out.

"Neither of my children are fated to bring about the destruction of Olympus," Dionysus countered snidely. He snapped his finger and a new glass of Diet Coke materialized. "Unlike that Perry Johnson, I might add."

"Percy Jackson," Chiron corrected, "and you might remember that he could also be fated to save it."

Dionysus' eyes danced with amusement. "You really believe that?"

"With all of myself," he stated firmly. Percy might've been rude and disrespectful and he certainly didn't have the training necessary to drive back a threat of Kronos' magnitude, but his heart was in the right place and sometimes that was all that mattered with Heroes. The rest would come with time, of that he was sure.

The God raised his glass. "Well then, let's have a toast to a young hero. That he may grow up to be better and fairer than his predecessors."

/

/

I thought long and hard about what House Percy should be sorted in. Like with most (well-written) characters, he is suited to more than one. I eliminated Ravenclaw almost from the start – while Percy is intelligent and 'possessing of a healthy dose of ingenuity', as the Hat said, he does not love knowledge for the sake of knowledge and I feel that's possibly the most important trait of a Ravenclaw.

I was left with the other three. Percy's fatal flaw is loyalty, as you all know, and that would make him the perfect Hufflepuff, but he is also courageous like a Gryffindor and cunning like a Slytherin (I'll fight anyone who says Percy isn't cunning. He won a good half of his fights just by outsmarting his enemies). I eliminated Slytherin. Why?, you ask. Well, the most important traits of Slytherin House are ambition and self-preservation. Percy turned down godhood and he doesn't have an ounce of self-preservation. If anything, he is self-sacrificing, which was what convinced me to sort him in Gryffindor. While Hufflepuff can be self-sacrificing too, I always saw it as more of a Gryffindor trait (Harry himself is certainly proof of that).

Moreover, in my mind Gryffindor and Slytherin always were incredibly alike. Both willing to do everything it takes to get what they want, be it winning a fight or protecting someone they love, but while Slytherins are geared more towards personal success (nothing wrong with that), Gryffindors are more concerned with the 'Greater Good' (which is not always a good thing).

Also, as I wrote in the chapter, I think that the Hat sees as more important the traits a person considers fundamental as opposed to the one they possess. Percy always strives to be brave, maybe because he often felt he wouldn't amount to anything as a child.

I know some people are going to be disappointed. No matter what House I chose, someone would've considered it in a way 'cliché'. I read a few HP/PJO crossovers and the only House I never saw Percy sorted in is Ravenclaw, but it is also the one he is least suited to and I wasn't going to put him there just to be 'original'.

Of course, all this is just my personal opinion; it's just the way I see the Houses of Hogwarts and Percy.

Thank you for reading!

Next chapter: we meet an old friend of Dumbledore.