Chapter 2
Harry sat down at the Gryffindor table and sighed. The past few days have been hectic to say the least.
He absentmindedly patted the pocket of his robes to make sure his wand was still there.
The quidditch cup was supposed to be a fun event. It was, until a group of Death Eaters attacked. The next thing Harry knew, he lost his wand, got attacked by a Death Eater or two and was accused of casting the Dark Mark.
Once again, Harry checked to make sure his wand was still in his pocket.
He looked towards the first years. There was something odd about them this year. Maybe because at the back of the line stood someone in their teens trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. He had messy black hair, a lean build and was most certainly not a first year.
Harry wasn't the only one who noticed this.
"Hey Harry, who do you reckon that is?" Ron asked.
"I don't know," Harry whispered back, "but he's definitely not a first year."
Down the Gryffindor table, Harry heard Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown giggle and point at the out of place student. It wasn't just those two either. Other girls, and some guys as well, whispered and pointed.
The sorting began. The students in the great hall quieted down.
When all the actual first years were done being sorted, Dumbledore stood up. There was confused muttering all around the great hall.
"Who is that guy?"
"What's he doing here?"
“He’s hot.”
"Before we finish the sorting and begin the feast," Dumbledore spoke, silencing everyone, "I would like you all to welcome the first transfer student at Hogwarts in over 100 years. Coming all the way from America, homeschooled up until now and hailing from a wealthy and prestigious family, please welcome the Prince of Atlantis, Percy Jackson!"
There were mixed reactions to this statement. Harry could hear some excited mutterings from the Slytherin table, namely purebloods and those from prominent families, while gasps of shock and disbelief were heard among the muggleborn students.
He watched as the boy calmly strode up towards the front to get sorted. He had an air of confidence surrounding him as well as other emotions Harry couldn't quite read.
Everyone in the great hall waited in silence as the new kid got sorted.
--
I put the hat on. It was big and old. The hat covered my eyes.
I saw some of the first years get sorted, looking absolutely ridiculous wearing the oversized hat.
Why is the sorting done by a hat again?
Hecate's information implant into my brain didn't actually contain information as to how the sorting was done. I was unpleasantly surprised when I discovered that I was to be sorted by a gods damn hat.
Just how many generations of lice are living there? Oh gods, I can feel my hair itching already.
Oh my, a demigod. I haven't seen one of your kind in ages.
Huh!? Did you just say… demigod?
I crossed my fingers. Maybe I just heard it wrong.
Yes. Now where to put you?
The hat grew silent for a bit. My mind didn't.
Oh fuck. Oh fuck fuck fucking fuck. I didn't even last a day! Oh gods, this quest was supposed to be chill and easy and yet I blew my cover. By a fucking hat of all things.
A plan formulated into my head. My scheming to accidentally shadow travel all the way to Antarctica, manipulate the snow to create a huge hole and throw the hat into there so that it would be lost in the depths of a glacier, frozen forever was interrupted by the hat.
Relax, Mr. Jackson. I am bound by the school to never reveal any secrets I read from the head of students.
I know what the hat said was supposed to reassure me. It didn't, because it just confirmed to reading my mind.
That's great. Fantastic even, I said to the hat, but I don't trust you.
I assure you, the hat said, trying to convince me. What I see here will never be revealed to anyone else.
Swear it on the Styx.
I'm sorry?
I said swear it on the Styx!
Mr. Jackson, the hat said, cautiously. I am an inanimate object. I have no soul.
Then… I started, but I came up blank. Maybe I was being paranoid. It was just a hat after all. What's the worst that could happen?
Fine. But if I find out that you snitched on me, you'll have fun being Mrs O'Leary's new chew toy.
Right, of course. Now onto your sorting. You display a great amount of loyalty. It is your fatal flaw after all but…
The hat paused in contemplation.
Hardworking is not something I see you doing especially with the way magic is being taught at this school. Theory over application in most cases, most boring, especially to your ADHD mind.
That statement surprised me. I can definitely be hardworking!
I see many brave deeds you have done in your life. However, you are also ambitious. Very ambitious, trying to attend university with a certain someone and to also grace her in the bed for some aggressive cuddling every night.
Hey! Is that really important for my sorting right now?
It was confirmed, the hat's a perv. A literal closet pervert.
Apologies, Mr. Jackson. This is the first time I sorted someone as old as you. First years are all so innocent compared to you.
A pause
My my, the kinky things that go on in your bedroom. Who would have thought you would be into that.
Please stop being a perverted hat and focus on sorting me. I said, interrupting the hat. Those memories are private. And could you sort a little faster?
I was getting a little impatient with the rambling the hat did. I could feel the eyes of the students in the great hall bearing down on me. My ADHD was starting to act up. I was fidgeting, unable to stay still.
The first years definitely didn't take as long to sort as I did.
My apologies. This is the first time I've ever viewed a mind as old as your's, as well as cluttered and unorganized. Please, excuse me for taking so long.
That being said, while on the battlefield, you can be incredibly cunning, but on a regular day with no danger involved, you’re anything but cunning. I believe blunt and untactful would describe you well.
Hey! I said in protest.
Not to mention the fact that you'd never fit in that house, the hat said, continuing on. Same goes with Ravenclaw. Without your Girlfriend here to motivate you, you would definitely study much less.
So?
It's either Gryffindor or Hufflepuff.
Which house is Harry in?
Unfortunately, I cannot reveal the secrets of other students.
The hat sounded smug. I wanted to burn it.
I'll find out what house he's in either way, so tell me. It's important.
Nope, no can do. Beside keeping the secrets of other students, I cannot allow outside influence to affect your sorting and decision.
There was a pause. In that short pause, I decided to find where they put this oversized fucking jackass of a hat and drown it in the great lake.
So what will it be, Mr. Jackson? Hufflepuff or Gryffindor.
I closed my eyes, not that anyone could see that I closed my eyes, and thought for a bit. One of the traits for students in Hufflepuff was loyalty. That was something I could definitely get behind.
But the name.
It felt right though. The traits of Hufflepuff fit me. Loyal and hardworking unless it has something to do with homework. Then I'd need, like the pervy hat said, some extra motivation to get me going.
I guess Hufflepuff then. It's an odd name. Hopefully Harry's in that house.
Hufflepuff Harry. Well, at least they both start with H.
A wise choice Mr. Jackson, a wise choice indeed.
The hat sounded off, if that was possible. It sounded like it knew something I didn't.
Very well then, better be... GRYFFINDOR!
Wha!?
The hat was pulled off my head but not before I could hear it's final words.
Ha! Did you seriously think I would let you choose where to get sorted?
The hat got the last laugh. The only laugh. I vowed to find it and come up with the most horrid way possible to brutally murder the inanimate object.
--
Harry watched Jackson get sorted. He watched and waited and watched and waited.
It was taking a while. Actually, it was taking a long while, enough so to rival his own sorting's time.
The great hall waited in silent anticipation.
"Blimey, the sorting is taking a while, isn't it, Harry?" Ron asked to my right in a quiet whisper. "Almost as long as yours did."
He paused.
"You never did say why your sorting took so long did you?"
Harry sighed, thinking through his words carefully.
"I had to convince the hat to put me in Gryffindor. It took a while to say the least."
"What house was the hat going to put you in originally?" Ron asked, curiously.
"Uhhh… Slytherin," Harry replied. He winced, knowing full well how negatively the youngest Weasley boy viewed the house. Hopefully Ron will be mature about it.
"Bloody hell mate, dodged a bullet there didn't you? Glad you're in Gryffindor and not with those slimy snakes."
The response left Harry godsmacked. Ron didn't notice, and continued whispering to him.
"Do you think the Jackson kid's sorting is going something like yours? Trying to convince the hat to put him into a house he l-"
"Why aren't you mad?" Harry interrupted.
Ron blinked in confusion, giving Harry a puzzled look.
"I just told you that the hat wanted to put me into Slytherin."
Ron scoffed. "The hat can be wrong sometimes, y'know. Percy almost got sorted into Slytherin. And, just look at Hermione. Sure she's brave and all, but she's a Ravenclaw through and through."
The two boys simultaneously turn to the third member of their tight friend group. She was nose deep into a book on house elves, completely unaware of her surroundings.
"And not all Slytherins are bad. Malfoy and his ilk give the house a bad rep."
"Thanks Ron."
Ron shrugged in response. "By the way, how much longer do you think this sorting is gonna go on for? I'm starving."
Harry rolled his eyes, a flicker of a smile appearing on his face. That was when Hermione decided to join in the conversation.
"Honestly Ron, do you ever think of anything but food?"
"Quidditch," Ron immediately replied, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "That's about it though."
Harry snickered. Hermione sighed, muttering something incomprehensible before looking around.
"What's going on with the sorting?" she asked, confused. Her eyes widened when she looked at the person being sorted. "And who's that? There's no way that's a first year."
"Transfer student," was Ron's response.
Hermione gasped. "But there hasn't been one in over 100 years! Who is he?"
"That's what Dumbledore said," Harry replied. "His name is Percy Jackson. You would know if you had listened."
Hermione looked crestfallen, as if she just committed one of the most heinous crimes in history.
"American?" she asked.
"You would know that too, if you had listened," Harry replied. Ron snickered beside him.
Noticing Hermione's withering stare, Harry quickly added, "Yes he's American."
"I'm assuming he attended Ilvermorny."
"He was homeschooled actually. You would know that if you had listened."
"Homeschooled?" Hermione asked, looking contemplative. "Why would he be homeschooled up until now, only to attend during the second last year? And how do we know he's not behind the curriculum or even following the same curriculum?"
"You would know that if you had -" Ron began jokingly, before being elbowed by Harry in the ribs.
Harry pointed at Hermione, who was giving Ron a piercing glare.
"Wouldn't want to piss her off even more if I were you," Harry whispered into his best friend's ear.
Ron gulped.
"Wizards from wealthy families occasionally do that. They want to keep their heirs themselves without the influence of others. But social interactions between kids their age is also important to have."
Hermione sat in silence, digesting the information Ron had just given her.
"We don't have to worry about him being behind the curriculum either. He's no doubt gotten tutored by the best there is to offer."
Ron's response surprised Harry. Sometimes he forgets that Ron, the guy who only cares about quidditch, chess and eating, comes from a wizarding family that has been around for ages and is actually quite well respected by some light families in the wizengamot.
Hermione scrunched up her eyebrows in confusion.
"Why would you say that?" She asked. "Just because he comes from a wealthy family, doesn't mean he'll be able to get the best there is."
"He's the prince of Atlantis," Ron responded, sounding a little aggravated. "The family he comes from is one of, if not the most powerful, rich and influential in America."
"Atlantis? As in the lost city of Atlantis?" Hermione said, gasping in shock. "No way!"
"Wha?" Ron said, sounding confused. And then it hit him. "Look mione, whatever muggle story you read, Jackson has nothing to do with it."
"Then why is his last name Jackson yet he's the prince of Atlantis?" Hermione asked.
Harry nodded. He wanted to know as well. He didn't know any stories about this so-called lost city. Growing up with the Dursleys, he didn't really get to read many books or watch any TV. It was still interesting nonetheless.
Ron sighed. Despite being the sixth son in the ancient house of Weasley, his father still forced him to learn about prominent wizarding families around the world. He was glad for it now.
"The most ancient and noble house of Atlantis. They're an odd bunch," Ron started explaining. Other Gryffindors around him, namely the muggleborns and half bloods, were listening to him intently. "Their house predates that even of the founders and every single known family member have had a different last name."
Hermione had taken out a piece of parchment and was scribbling down notes. Why she had a quill and parchment on her person was anybody's guess.
"Wow Ron," Harry said, sounding genuinely surprised. "I didn't know you were so knowledgeable about other wizarding families."
"Thanks," Ron muttered, smiling sheepishly. He liked the attention. It felt nice to not be in the shadow for once. But it also felt a bit oppressive.
"But what makes them so powerful and influential?" Dean Thomas, a half blood raised by muggles, asked.
More students from the Gryffindor table were listening in, two of them being Fred and George. Ron began to sweat nervously.
"Go on, Ron, tell the clueless students -"
"- all about the most ancient and most noble house of Atlantis."
"Well, the family owns a major portion of the Empire States building. They also specialize in water spells and potions."
It was then that the hat finally came to a decision.
GRYFFINDOR!
Ron sighed in relief. The attention was nice, but it wasn't for him.
--
I absentmindedly twirled the pendant on my neck as I sat down at the Gryffindor table. I was waved over by two redhead twins around my age, Fred and George Weasley. They reminded me a bit of the Stoll brothers. Their friend, Lee Jordan, also had the inkling of a child of Hermes. Their body language just screamed mischief.
Actually, for all I know, they could actually be legacies of Hermes. Allow me to explain.
It isn't just Hecate's legacies that are able to manipulate the mist. Legacies of other gods are able to as well. Not as well, unless you're a legacy of the big three, but still doable. These legacies have a high chance to birth squibs.
The majority of Hogwarts population, and the wizarding population as a whole, consists primarily of Hecate’s legacies with the occasional legacy of another god thrown in the mix.
Professor Dumbledore stood up.
"Now that the sorting is finally over," he said, emphasizing the finally, smiling all good naturedly, staring at me with those twinkling eyes, "there are a few announcements I would like to make. As you all know, the Forbidden Forest is off limits to all students. Our good caretaker would like to remind you all about the updated list of banned items. Any student caught with those items will be punished accordingly.
"Next, I would like you all to welcome our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Alastor Moody."
Professor Moody stood up briefly from the staff table, bowed, before quickly sitting back down. His body was full of scars. He had a fake eye that whirred around and a fake leg as well.
According to the memories Hecate implanted, Moody was a very moody person.
Ba-dum ch.
Okay, I'll be serious now. One of the best aurors in his generation, he caught many dark wizards in his career before retiring. It also led him to being extremely paranoid. Not to mention scarred.
His face definitely ain't pretty to look at.
"Now, some of this news may be a shock to many of you," Dumbledore continued, "but I regret to inform you all that the Quidditch Cup will be canceled this year."
The last portion of the announcement was met with loud outcries of protest.
According to my brain, Quidditch was a game you played on brooms in the air. Three chasers, two beaters, one keeper and one seeker. The quaffle was worth ten points. Chasers could only hold the quaffle for a maximum of three seconds before being shocked and the seeker could only hold it for a maximum of one second.
The game ended when the snitch was caught by the seeker. It was worth ten percent of your team's total points rounded down to the nearest ten.
For those of you who didn't pass grade 2 math, which I can relate too, that means when your score is between 0 - 90, the snitch is worth 0 points, 100 - 190, 10 points, 200 - 290, 20 points and so on.
It sounded like a fun game. Not for me, but I could see why the students were disappointed.
"However, in turn, we will be hosting a very special magic tournament for the first time in centuries."
There was a long pause that built up suspense and anticipation.
"It is my pleasure to announce that Hogwarts will be hosting the triwizard tournament this year!"
The statement was met with disbelief from those who knew of the tournament and confusion from those who didn't.
From the information Hecate gave me, the tournament was divided into three parts with the prize being 1000 galleons and eternal glory. It was meant as a way for the three schools to bond but was canceled due to the growing death toll.
Yeah, there was no way I'm going to enter the tournament.
With the announcements made, Dumbledore spoke a few more odd words before the feast began.
--
Harry, Ron and Hermione watched Jackson sit with the twins and Lee Jordan.
"So, what do you think," Ron asked Harry. "Gonna enter yourself in the tournament or not?"
"I think I'm gonna pass," Harry said.
"That's a good idea Harry," Hermione responded. "I've read that in one tournament, all three competitors died as well as some spectators when one of the competitors decided the best way to kill a Hydra was to chop off all its heads."
Harry's eyes widened. "Bloody hell, if I wasn't convinced before to not enter, I am now."
Ron nodded in agreement.
"The prize money would be nice, not to mention the eternal glory, but I'd rather not die a horrible death."
They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes. The chatter of friends recounting their summer and the sound of cutlery filled the great hall.
Harry absentmindedly checked his pocket for his wand.
Good, still there.
"So," Ron said, breaking the silence, "what do you think of the new transfer student."
The three looked towards him. They watched as he talked with the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan.
"Well," Hermione began, "he seems like a nice person. I just hope he isn't spoiled and whiny like Malfoy."
"Yeah," Harry agreed, "he seems like a decent enough bloke."
"Better not be hearing a, 'my father will hear about this', from him though," Ron said, snickering.
--
I'm not saying the feast was bad. It was great; There was a huge selection of food to eat. It's just that there wasn't any blue food. Which made it bad.
I went to my four poster bed feeling satisfied. I was pretty happy that my new Gryffindor classmates talked to me normally, unaffected by my status as the Prince of Atlantis.
I lay in bed, thinking. The day had been a rollercoaster of emotions. A terrifying plane ride, a perverted hat and new friends. Yeah, I guess the quest is going pretty we-
I stopped myself before I could finish the thought. Best not jinx myself now.
I fell asleep soon after.
A crossroad appeared before me. It was misty and dark. The road to the left was rough, broken and unpaved, cluttered with fallen branches and broken stones. The road to the right was less so.
Huh. Did this signify something? A decision I'll have to make in the future perhaps? I looked at the two roads more closely. The mist made it so everything was hard to see more than a few feet in front of me.
I squinted, trying to get a better look at what the path right led to. I tried moving my legs, but they didn't respond. From where I was standing, I could see faint outlines of… something. It was large, the outline blurry and indiscernible. Power and heat seemed to radiate off it.
The dream faded.
I woke up at the crack of dawn. Apparently breakfast was at 7:30 in the freaking morning. Way too early.
I stretched and sat at the edge of my bed.
"Hey Perce," Fred, or was it George, called out to me. "Ready for your first day of school?"
Was I ready? I didn't necessarily have a good track record with schools, being expelled multiple times in the past.
You know what, let's be positive for once.
"You bet I am.”