chiron is that you with a beard? HELP IS THAT A TALKING HAT HOLY SHIT-
The landing is not graceful.
The moment we touch down, I roll off the chariot and onto the ground, groaning. "Never again."
Apollo grins like he didn’t just give us all trauma. "That was fun!"
Nico looks like he’s about to throw up. Leo is trying to figure out the mechanism of the chariot. Annabeth looks like she’s mentally calculating exactly how much force it would take to kill a god.
Piper dusts herself off and glares at Apollo. "Next time, I’m flying commercial. Even Spirit Airlines is better than that."
'' YOU'VE FLOWN COMMERCIAL?" i ask incredulously
" YOU HAVENT?"
" PERKS OF BEING A CHILD OF THE BIG 3 AND ON ZUES'S HIT-LIST.''
Before we can even process our surroundings, a group of robed figures approaches us. Leading them is an elderly man with a beard long enough to be used as a scarf, half-moon spectacles, and a twinkle in his eyes that screams 'I know way too much and refuse to elaborate.'
"Welcome to Hogwarts," the man says warmly. "I am Albus Dumbledore."
Oh boy. Here we go , is this the chiron of hogwarts?
Dumbledore’s eyes do that annoying twinkle thing as he takes in our group. "We have been expecting you. Please, follow me."
I glance at Annabeth. She gives me a look that says, ‘Behave.’ I give her a look that says, ‘Unlikely.’
As we walk toward the castle, I mutter, "This is going to be a long year."
"Understatement of the century," Piper adds.
And deep down, I know—I’m probably right.
The Great Hall is massive, even by demigod standards. Floating candles, enchanted ceiling, long wooden tables—the works. It’s like stepping into an old medieval movie, except, you know, real.
Hushed whispers spread through the hall like wildfire as hundreds of students stare at us like we’re aliens. Some of them look excited, others suspicious. A few seem downright terrified. I try not to take it personally, but Nico standing there looking like the Grim Reaper probably isn’t helping.
"I feel like an exotic animal at a zoo," Leo mutters, waggling his eyebrows at a group of first-years who immediately start whispering even louder.
"Try not to set anything on fire," Annabeth hisses.
"I make no promises," he shoots back.
"I, for one, am embracing my main character moment," Piper says, flipping her brown hair dramatically. A few Gryffindor guys nearly fall off their benches.
Dumbledore leads us to the front, where a stool and a very old-looking hat sit. "Ah, yes, before you begin your time at Hogwarts, we must determine your appropriate House."
"Oh, right. The Sorting thing." I scratch my head. "Uh, how exactly does this work does it just-?"
Before Dumbledore can answer, the hat suddenly comes to life.
"Place me upon your head, and I shall see,
Where you belong, where you best should be."
"...It talks?" Piper asks, clearly disturbed.
''...holy shit is this another oracle? thank zeus it isn't a skeleton this time.''
I get the feeling we’ll have a lot to talk about with these....british folk?