Chapter 2
Percy
The sensation of falling lasted for what felt like forever until, abruptly, Percy felt solid – albeit squishy – ground beneath his feet. A deafening crash and flash of light cleared the residue of darkness from Percy’s vision, momentarily rendering him both blind and deaf.
When the spots dancing across his vision lessened, Percy noticed he was standing on what appeared to be the grounds of a massive castle, where children of all ages were filing in from carriages drawn by zombie-looking horses that filled him with both a sense of dread and comfort.
Though his ears were still ringing, he could hear the excited chatter of hundreds of children all running to escape that rain that was hammering down, drenching the black robes they were all wearing. He faintly noticed that while they all appeared to be soaked, he felt nothing except a slight chill as the water seemed to glance off him.
He forgot this, however, when he realized that the last carriage had just arrived, and as the children sprinted toward the massive doorway, he would be left alone out here. Without thinking, Percy started to hurry toward the castle, where everyone else had disappeared into, focusing on the warm light and the promise of shelter after long days of running and fighting with little rest.
As Percy made his way up the stone steps to the large doorway, he came face-to-face with a stern-looking woman in emerald green robes, wearing what looked like a witch's hat. At the sight of the unfamiliar teenage boy in shorts, a ripped orange t-shirt, and a leather necklace with a bunch of different beads standing in the entryway of what was meant to be the most secure place in all of Britain, the woman appeared almost dumbfounded.
“Who are you and how did you get to Hogwarts, boy?” the stern woman questioned.
All Percy could do in response, however, was shrug, too drained to fret over the darkness that had brought him from a sunny hilltop in California to a rainy night in the middle of nowhere.
The woman, unimpressed with this response, simply waited for Percy to continue, which he eventually did.
“I’m not sure, really. I was being chased and thinking of home, and all of a sudden I appeared here,” Percy said tiredly. “I’m not sure what happened before that though; I can’t remember much of anything, but I know my name is Percy Jackson.”
The woman, after mulling that over, asked Percy to show her what was in his pockets. When Percy brought out his pen, which never seemed to disappear from his person, he was shocked to see that it was no longer a ballpoint but was now a stick.
“Ahh, okay, well, Jackson, I can guess what might’ve happened here,” the woman said, nodding. “I am Professor McGonagall, and this is Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I will tell Headmaster Dumbledore about this, but for now, I think it would be best if you simply get sorted with the first years.”
Confused at the woman – McGonagall’s change in demeanour, Percy remained silent.
After a pause, the Professor continued, “I think it might be best if you got some robes and cleaned up a tad.”
With that, McGonagall waved a stick at Percy, and suddenly, he was clean in a way he didn’t think he’d ever been. Weeks of grime were removed in seconds, and he was wearing a cloak similar to what the other children he’d seen had been wearing over his clothes. Percy guessed that it must be some kind of uniform to – what was this place called again? Oh right, he remembered, ‘Hogwarts.’ What kind of name was that anyway? It sounded like some kind of infection, like chickenpox. What an odd thing to name a school! And did the woman say 'witchcraft'? That couldn’t be possible, but now everything was starting to make a little more sense to him. The way she had cleaned him with just a flick of her stick – it must be a wand – and the funny hat, and those weird horses pulling the carriage.
A flood of small, very wet children entered through the doors just then, making Percy move further into the entrance hall. The children were huddled in a group, looking at everything surrounding them with equal parts fear and awe, all but an incredibly small boy with mousy hair wrapped in a massive black coat which dragged on the damp floor. The coat was so big for him that it looked as though he was draped in a furry black marquee, with his small face protruding from over the collar. He looked so excited, Percy was unsure what to make of the ear-splitting grin.
Once all the first years had entered the hall, McGonagall launched into a speech as the noise coming from the door to the right increased in volume.
“Welcome to Hogwarts! The start of term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The sorting is a very important ceremony because while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room. The four houses are called: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. The sorting ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.” With that, McGonagall turned back to Percy and said, “Jackson, just follow behind when we enter, so I have a chance to inform the Headmaster of this development.”
That drew the first years’ attention to Percy and increased his anxiety, as not only was he entering an unfamiliar place with absolutely no memories of his life – bar one name, Annabeth – but he was also going to enter alone in front of what Percy assumed was the entire school.
McGonagall, satisfied that everything was orderly, flicked her wand to open the doors on the right where all the noise had been coming from, only to be met by silence, then turned to the first years.
“Follow me,” McGonagall simply stated, before turning back to the doors and walking briskly through them, followed by a line of first years like lost ducks, leaving Percy alone in the grand entryway.
Harry –
The trio made their way past the Slytherins, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs, heading toward the far side of the hall where the Gryffindors were seated. Ron was muttering furiously under his breath about Peeves’ recent antics, while Hermione massaged her sore throat. Harry, meanwhile, was lost in thought, glumly wondering how long he would have to sit with soggy socks.
“Good evening!” Nearly Headless Nick said, beaming at them.
“Says who?” Harry replied with a frustrated sign, pulling off his trainers and emptying them of water. “Hope they hurry up with the sorting. I’m starving.”
The sorting of the new students into houses took place at the start of every school year, but by an unlucky combination of circumstances, Harry hadn't been present at one since his own, and he was quite looking forward to it.
“They really need to hurry up,” Ron moaned beside Harry. “I could eat a Hippogriff.”
No sooner had the words left his mouth than the doors of the Great Hall swung open, and an expectant silence swept over the room.
Professor McGonagall led a line of first years up to the front of the hall. If Harry, Ron, and Hermione were wet, it was nothing compared to how these first years looked. They appeared to have swum across the lake rather than sailed. Shivering from a mixture of cold and nerves, they filed along the staff table and came to a halt in a line facing the rest of the school, with the Sorting Hat perched on a three-legged stool before them.
Rather than directing them toward the hat as she had during Harry’s sorting, McGonagall turned to speak briefly to Dumbledore. When she was finished, Dumbledore gave her a curious look before nodding. McGonagall then gestured toward the doorway, motioning for someone else to join the first years.
After a brief pause, a boy stepped into the hall. Unlike the other first years, who were soaked to the skin, this boy was completely dry. He was also notably taller and more muscular than the rest. As he approached, Harry noticed that his skin was a deep tan, and his eyes… they were unlike anything Harry had ever seen. They flickered from a serene cerulean blue to a darker, stormy shade, constantly shifting as they swept across the room, taking everything in.
When the boy reached the front, he stood with the first years, highlighting just how different he was.
Whispers rippled through the hall, all asking the same question: “Who is he?”
Percy –
As Percy waited in the doorway, he began to worry that he had missed his cue. The hall was silent now, and he had no means of knowing what was going on inside. But when he dared to step closer, the sight before him took his breath away.
The hall was magnificent. Four long tables filled with students stretched down the room, each table set with gleaming gold silverware. The students, their backs to him, were all gazing toward the far end of the hall, where another table—this one clearly reserved for the teachers—stood perpendicular to the others. But what truly amazed Percy were the hundreds of candles floating in midair, casting a warm glow over the scene. And above them, the ceiling appeared to open up into dark clouds and heavy rain. Yet, impossibly, none of the rain fell to the tables—it vanished into thin air before it could reach them.
Percy stood in stunned silence, marvelling at the beauty of the hall. But as he did, every head in the room suddenly swivelled toward him. It was his turn to enter.
Percy drew in a steadying breath, before he stepped forward into the hall where murmurs and curious stares greeted him.
As he made his way to the front, where McGonagall stood with the first years, he noticed that the students were divided into four groups, each wearing a different colour tie: red, blue, yellow, and green. He hoped to end up with the blue tie—something about it felt… right, deep within him.
When Percy reached the front of the hall, he joined the end of the line of first years. Just as he did, the ragged looking witches hat broke into song. Only him and half of the first years seemed shocked that an inanimate object had started to belt a tune.
The hat sang of the qualities that defined each house as well as their origin stories. The melody rang through the hall, and when the song finished, the tear in the rim where song had come from closed and the hat fell silent once more, only for applause to break out across the hall. From listening to that song Percy wasn’t sure if Ravenclaw would be a great fit but the other houses seemed to be plausible.
McGonagall was now unrolling a large scroll of parchment, “when I call out your name you will put on the hat and sit on the stool,” she told the first years, “when the hat announces your house you will go and sit at the appropriate table.”
“Ackalie Stuart”
At first, the hat took its time, deliberating over each student. But soon, it picked up speed, choosing houses in mere seconds. Each student went to their assigned table, and the hall erupted into cheers from the corresponding house. Some students even booed or hissed at the rival houses, creating an atmosphere that Percy imagined would be perfect for games like Capture the Flag.
From the tables the first years went to sit at, Percy thought he had worked out that the red house was Gryffindor, the yellow house was Hufflepuff, the blue house was Ravenclaw (a shame, Percy thought), and the green house was Slytherin
Then, as the sorting continued, Percy found himself growing more anxious. What if the hat couldn’t decide? What if he didn’t belong in any house? He had no memory of his past, and the hat had said it would ‘look inside your mind,’ but Percy’s mind felt empty.
Finally, McGonagall called out, “Whitby, Kevin!” and the hat declared, “Hufflepuff!”
It was Percy’s turn.
McGonagall’s voice rang out across the hall: “Finally, to finish our sorting, we have a special case—Jackson Percy, who will be joining us in our sixth year. Unfortunately, he has suffered the effects of the Obliviate charm. Though he is American, he will be sorted until we can determine where he’s from.”
With that unnecessary over the top introduction (half of which he wasn’t sure he understood), Percy took a seat on the rickety stool. The hall fell silent as the old witches hat was placed on his head, promptly sliding down to cover his eyes.
In the darkness, a voice echoed inside his head. “Hmm, interesting—very interesting. You really can’t remember anything, son?”
Percy thought back, confused. “No.”
“Ah, but it’s all here, waiting for you…”
Before Percy could respond, the Hat suddenly bellowed, “HUFFLEPUFF!”
The Great Hall erupted in cheers and applause as the hat was lifted from his head. Percy blinked, his vision returning to normal.