Hermione woke to the loud, clashing sound of metal on metal, a jumble of noise similar someone playing the drums on metal pots. Stumbling bleary eyed down the stairs, she found Neville and Harry sparring in what she called the "Training Room".
"You do realize that it is not even six in the morning?" she said, yawning.
"A warrior does not choose when a battle will take place," Harry said, easily disarming Neville and for a moment putting a stop to the noise, "Which reminds me, you need to learn how to use a sword. Suit up and come join us."
By the time they had stopped practicing due to it being time for breakfast, Hermione regretted not packing adequate exercise clothes, as wizard robes were not conducive to wielding swords, and for not putting enough effort into PE beforehand. Harry was a wonderful teacher, patient and knowledgeable, but even though she had only used a wooden practice sword and learned a few simple sword fighting techniques, she felt totally exhausted. Even Neville, who had only picked up a sword a few weeks before, was already much more capable than she was. She was not going to be left behind while the boys went on a mission. She knew she had to tackle this problem as she had any other: by outworking the competition. By the time winter break came around, she was determined to be as capable with a sword as Neville.
-oO0o0Oo-
The Fat Friar visited them while they were eating breakfast in the Living Room to hand out their schedules. Harry couldn't help but be excited for his first day of learning magic, but was worried about the backlash his actions could have caused. The ghost interrupted his somber train of thoughts.
"Well, you've got first period Transfiguration with the Gryffindors, then History of Magic with the Hufflepuffs, and after lunch you have Defense Against the Dark Arts with the Slytherins and Charms with the Ravenclaws."
"Isn't History of Magic taught by a ghost?" Neville asked, curious.
"Yes," the Fat Friar answered, sounding less than enthused, "By Professor Binns."
"You don't seem to like him," Hermione noted. Harry was impressed. Anything Hermione lacked in physical prowess was definitely made up for in her mental capabilities. The girl was observant and had a mind that was razor sharp.
"Well, I'm sure you'll all understand why once you meet him," the Friar said, sighing, "Enjoy your first day." The ghostly message reminded Harry of the events that had transpired late last night…
Harry was just finishing Iris messaging Chiron when Sir Nicholas floated up through the floor. Turing toward the visitor, Harry tried to hide the dissipating message from view while appearing nonchalant.
"You don't have to hide that from me," the ghost said, gesturing to the spray of water, "Hogwarts knows your backstory." Harry was unsure if he was supposed to feel relived or a tad creeped out that a sentient building knew his entire history. Knowing it was futile, he gave up on trying to obscure the fountain from view.
"How?" Harry asked, suspicious.
"You're not the first to have come from Camp Half-Blood," Sir Nicholas said frankly, "Although it has been a while. When a magical baby is born, Hogwarts records their name and constantly updates their address. Its how the letters are sent to the right people, although the Camp's recently updated wards kept yours from getting in. Besides, Hogwarts does have its own oracle." Harry looked at the ghost, his skepticism clear.
"Apollo wouldn't have two oracles at once," he said, thinking of what Chiron had told him about the Sun God.
"No, he would have five," the ghost mused, "But you're right, she's not a true oracle, that was her great-great-grandmother Cassandra, however, her magical abilities have strengthened her "Sight" so she can produce accurate prophecies frequently, albeit without her control. Once spoken, she can never remember what she has foretold. Which reminds me of the reason of my visit."
"Yes?" Harry asked, still puzzling over the ghost's comment that Apollo had five oracles, but he put it aside.
"You haven't told Neville and Hermione your secrets," said Sir Nicholas, holding up a hand to silence Harry's defensive remark, "You know as well as I that in a battle a legion must act as a cohesive whole. That can't happen when one does not trust the others enough to tell them simple facts about yourself." Harry hung his head, abashed, recognizing the truth in the deceased knight's words. "Hogwarts will not stand for it," the ghost continued, "But recognizes that if you do not know everything about yourself, then how could you share it with others?" Harry looked up then, surprised, but the ghost didn't falter. "As such, she gives you two tasks. Firstly, pay Trelawney a visit and ask for a prophecy, then listen and remember to what she says. Secondly, wear the Sorting Hat. It won't sort you, if that's what your worried about. Dumbledore keeps it in his Headmaster's office, which you won't have a problem gaining access to because he will undoubtedly invite you to visit him." Harry was about to ask why he was supposed to be doing any of this, but the ghost held up a hand to silence him. "I can't answer your questions because I don't know the answers to them. Only Hogwarts does. Do as she says." And with that, Sir Nicholas departed, leaving Harry stunned and alone in his room….
"Are you all right Harry?" Neville asked, concerned. Harry realized that as he was reminiscing he had stopped with a spoon full of cereal halfway to his mouth. Nodding to Neville, he brought himself back to the present and finished his cereal.
-oO0o0Oo-
They each stood in front of their respective doors, dressed in their purple robes and wearing their sword. Neville remembered that was one of the first things Harry had said when he was teaching him how sword fight, that a warrior never leaves his weapon behind. He couldn't help but feel nervous, this wasn't the circumstances he had envisioned when he had imagined first coming to Hogwarts, although the wonderful accommodations were definitely a plus. Certainly better than the Slytherin dorms, he had heard that because it was under the lake, water always dripped from the ceiling.
"Its time," said Hermione, failing to keep the nerves completely out of her voice.
"It'll be fine," said Harry, reassuringly, "Its only McGonagall, right?" Both Neville and Hermione looked at each other dubiously. Neville knew his nervousness would only get worse the longer he stood there. Taking a deep breath, he nodded his head to Harry, thought hard of Transfiguration, and stepped through the door.
The passageway let him out just behind McGonagall's desk, and Neville was thankful that only a few students were already at there desks. The gaping stares of those who were there was enough to convince him that it was not going to be normal day. McGonagall turned to find out what was causing the disturbance, and although surprise flickered in her eyes, it was gone in an instant. Harry nodded at her, and then sat down at a desk in the front row. Neville and Hermione both followed his lead, at least this way other people wouldn't have to turn their heads to stare at them.
-oO0o0Oo-
As soon as the last of the bumbling Gryffindors had stumbled through the doors, McGonagall began the lesson. Harry smiled as the rest of the classed oohed and ahhed over her animagus transformation. He hoped that McGonagall approved of his actions, she was the closest thing to a mother he had ever had. He did not want to disappoint her, and the very least he could do was to not fail her class. He threw himself into trying to turn his match into a needle, and at the end of the lesson, he felt genuine pride when it had turned silver and pointy and McGonagall gave him a small smile of approval. Perhaps becoming an animagi himself was not too far out of reach.
The next two class periods failed to meet Harry's expectations. Professor Binns spoke in a droning monotone, lecturing about facts that were entirely untrue based on the information Harry had read in the History textbook. Most of the students slept at their desks or talked in whispers, and Binns didn't seem to care. Harry and Hermione spent the entire class period helping Neville practice his Transfigurations, during Transfiguration he had managed to give the match pointed ends but had failed to change anything else. However, by the time Binns had wrapped up his lecture Neville was able to give the match a silver sheen. Defense Against the Dark Arts was no better. Harry had been looking forward to this class, even if he was unsure about Quirrell. However, Quirrell seemed to be afraid of his own shadow, and stuttered so hard that no one could understand what he was lecturing about. To make matters worse, the whole class period the lightning shaped marks on his palms felt like they were being pricked with needles. Harry resigned himself to teaching himself out of the textbooks for the two classes, as he clearly wasn't going to be learning anything useful otherwise.
Charms, however, was extremely interesting. Professor Flitwick was tiny, however, even without being able to see his aura Harry would be able to tell that he was clearly an accomplished wizard, making his desk zoom around the room with no apparent effort. Eager to try something similar, Harry was disappointed when Flitwick told them that they wouldn't be learning Levitation charms until several weeks later, and they would only be practicing with feathers. Not deterred however, Harry resolved to practice on his own whenever possible. The real surprise came, however, as they were leaving the classroom and found Headmaster Dumbledore waiting for them.
"Headmaster," Harry said, warily.
"Harry, my dear boy," Dumbledore said, "How are you? Enjoying your first day?"
"Well enough," Harry replied, evenly. The man clearly wanted something.
"Quite a surprise what you did yesterday," said the Headmaster, "You were the first, you know, to ever refuse to be sorted."
"I gathered that," Harry said, wishing the man would stop beating around the bush.
"Yes, I imagine you have," he said, staring at Harry through his half-moon glasses.
"Is there a reason for this visit?" Harry said, done waiting for the man to play his games.
"Of course," said Dumbledore, a hint of steel entering his voice, "A Champion of Hogwarts must have many things to do."
"Indeed," Harry said, voice growing sharper.
"Well, if you have the time, I was hoping we could continue this chat in my office," Dumbledore said, "On Saturday, perhaps?" Harry knew that this was the real reason for the man's visit, remembering that Sir Nicholas had told him something like this might occur. He had planned to visit Trelawney on Saturday, so this was perfect. He could chat with Dumbledore, then complete the second of Hogwart's tasks and wear the Sorting Hat. But he wasn't going to let the man off that easy.
"My fellow knights and I had plans," Harry said.
"Well, of course they could come too," Dumbledore said immediately. Harry noticed that Dumbledore had failed to address Neville or Hermione directly, even though they were standing right next to him. Cleary he was the one the Headmaster was after, and Harry made a mental note of it. If you knew what an enemy wanted, you had the advantage in battle. Tired of this conversation, Harry relented.
"Saturday, then," Harry said, turning on his heel and walking away, Neville and Hermione close behind.
"But you don't know the password!" The headmaster called after them. Harry didn't stop. Hogwarts would let them in.
-oO0o0Oo-
AN:
All rights belong to the wonderful J. K. Rowling and Rick Riordan for the original stories.
Now things are starting to get more interesting.
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