Percy Jackson and The Wizarding World

Percy adjusted the borrowed set of wizard robes Hecate had provided, feeling uncomfortable in the heavy black fabric. The past six months had been grueling—learning spells, potion brewing, and even disguising his demigod presence among wizards. Hecate was a tough teacher, pushing him past his limits every day.

Now, standing outside the massive, towering Hogwarts castle, Percy couldn't help but feel a little nervous. "This is it," he muttered under his breath. "No turning back now."

"Remember," Hecate's voice echoed in his mind from their last conversation, "blend in, observe, and stay out of trouble. Do not reveal your demigod powers. The wizarding world is fragile; even the smallest mistake could unravel everything."

Percy sighed. "Easier said than done."

The Great Hall was as magnificent as described in the books he had skimmed over. The floating candles, the enchanted ceiling mimicking the starry night sky, and the four long tables filled with curious faces staring at him.

"An exchange student from America?" whispered a few students.

"Why does he look so… rugged?" another muttered.

Percy tried not to roll his eyes. Wizards had no idea what a battle-hardened demigod looked like, apparently. He could spot their curious glances, especially from the red-haired Weasley family and a bushy-haired girl with intelligent eyes—Hermione Granger, if he remembered right.

"Jackson, Percy!" called Professor McGonagall from the front, holding a long parchment list.

Percy swallowed and walked toward the Sorting Hat, ignoring the murmurs. Sitting on the stool, he barely had time to adjust before the ancient hat was placed on his head.

"Hmm… interesting," the Sorting Hat's voice echoed in his mind. "Very interesting indeed."

Percy flinched slightly. "Hey, mind keeping it down? My head's a bit crowded already."

The hat chuckled. "Oh, I can see that, demigod. Son of Poseidon, no less. Fascinating! I haven't sorted one of your kind in centuries."

Percy stiffened. "Wait… you know what I am?"

The hat hummed in thought. "Of course! Magic and divine energy—two sides of the same coin. But where to put you… Gryffindor for bravery, certainly, but you have the cunning of a Slytherin. The loyalty of Hufflepuff… and the mind of a—well, perhaps not Ravenclaw."

"Hey!" Percy protested internally.

"Ah, but you seek belonging, don't you?" the hat mused. "You've lost your place in time, yet you carry the weight of destiny. The question is, where do you want to belong?"

Percy hesitated. "Honestly? I just want to keep my head down and figure out how to get back home."

The hat chuckled again. "I see. Then Slytherin might suit you well… cunning, ambition… survival."

Percy scowled. "No way. My friends would never let me live it down."

"Then it must be… GRYFFINDOR!" the hat declared aloud.

The Gryffindor table erupted into cheers, and Percy sighed in relief, handing the hat back to McGonagall before making his way to sit beside a wide-eyed Ron Weasley and Harry Potter himself.

"Welcome to Gryffindor, mate!" Ron said, clapping him on the back. "Exchange student, right?"

"Yeah, something like that," Percy replied, trying to ignore the intense stare from Hermione across the table.

"You're not like the others," she said suspiciously. "There's something… different about you."

Percy forced a smile. "Let's just say I didn't exactly grow up in a castle."

The feast began, and Percy was grateful for the distraction of food. Hogwarts might have been strange, but at least it had good meals.

Later that night, as the first-year students were settling into their dormitories, Percy found himself staring out the tower window, overlooking the vast Hogwarts grounds. The lake shimmered under the moonlight, reminding him a little too much of home.

"This place is weird," he muttered to himself.

"You're the weird one," came a voice behind him.

Percy turned to see a ghostly figure float through the wall—a tall, transparent man in old-fashioned armor.

"Uh, hi?" Percy greeted awkwardly.

"I am Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington," the ghost said proudly. "Or Nearly Headless Nick, as they call me."

"Nearly headless?" Percy asked, raising an eyebrow.

Nick attempted to demonstrate by tugging at his partially severed head, which flopped to the side with a sickening squelch. Percy grimaced. "Okay, yeah, I get it."

Nick seemed pleased by his reaction. "And who might you be, young lad?"

"Percy Jackson," he replied. "Just… a new student trying to fit in."

Nick eyed him curiously. "There is something different about you. Ah, but Hogwarts has had its share of secrets. Perhaps you'll add to them."

Percy sighed. "Yeah, let's hope it's the good kind of secrets."

As Nick floated away, Percy leaned against the wall, staring out the window again. The Fates had given him a mission—survive, stay hidden, and learn.

One thing was for sure: Hogwarts wouldn't know what hit it.