Percy Jackson and The Wizarding World

Percy woke up groggy, his instincts screaming at him that something wasn't right. His hand shot under his pillow, grabbing for Riptide—but instead of his celestial bronze sword, all he found was a wand.

Right. No more monster-slaying. Just… magic.

He groaned, sitting up in the unfamiliar four-poster bed in the Gryffindor dormitory. Around him, the other first-year boys were snoring away—except for one. Percy turned to see Harry Potter sitting by the window, staring out at the darkened Hogwarts grounds.

"Couldn't sleep either, huh?" Percy asked quietly.

Harry turned, surprised. "Yeah. First night jitters, I guess."

Percy smirked. "Yeah. Happens a lot when you're thrown into new worlds."

Harry gave him a curious look but didn't press further. "Hogwarts is… different than I expected."

"You and me both, buddy," Percy muttered, swinging his legs off the bed. "Come on, let's get out of here. Maybe some fresh air will help."

The two made their way down to the Gryffindor common room, its warm glow still burning in the fireplace. Percy collapsed onto the couch, stretching out while Harry took a chair opposite him.

"So, you from America?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Percy said, scratching the back of his head. "Exchange student, kinda. My school thought I could use a change of scenery."

Harry chuckled. "Hogwarts is definitely… different."

"You don't know the half of it," Percy muttered, thinking about the past six months of magical cramming Hecate had put him through. Transfiguration, Charms, and Potions had been a nightmare, but he had a knack for defensive spells—something that came naturally to him, considering his demigod instincts.

Harry glanced at him curiously. "So, do they have magic schools in America?"

Percy thought carefully. "Yeah, but it's… different from here. More, uh, hands-on training."

"Like dueling?" Harry asked, his eyes lighting up.

Percy smirked. "Something like that."

The next morning at breakfast, Percy found himself overwhelmed by the sheer amount of food on the Gryffindor table. Piles of eggs, bacon, sausages, toast—definitely better than camp food back at Half-Blood Hill. Ron Weasley, who seemed to have an infinite appetite, was piling his plate as Percy watched in awe.

"You gonna eat that?" Ron asked, pointing at Percy's untouched pancakes.

Percy raised an eyebrow. "Dude, do you even breathe between bites?"

Ron grinned through a mouthful of toast, while Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Ronald."

The mail arrived via owl post, and Percy nearly choked on his juice when a large, gray owl swooped down and dropped a heavy envelope onto his plate.

"New exchange students get a lot of paperwork," Hermione commented, watching him open it.

Inside was a note from Hecate—just a single line written in elegant script.

"Blend in. Don't draw attention. Stay out of trouble."

Percy groaned. "Easier said than done."

Across the table, a pale blond boy with an annoyingly smug face strolled by, flanked by two towering goons. Draco Malfoy.

"Well, well," Malfoy sneered. "The American."

Percy, stuffing the note into his pocket, arched an eyebrow. "Wow, good observation. Anything else you want to share, Sherlock?"

Ron snorted into his pumpkin juice, while Malfoy's face twisted in irritation. "I don't know how things work in America, but here, there's a certain… order to things."

Percy leaned back, flashing a grin. "Right, let me guess. You're the top dog and everyone bows down to your greatness?"

"Exactly," Malfoy said, then realized he was being mocked. "Watch yourself, Jackson. This isn't your country."

Percy smiled sweetly. "You're right. If it was, you'd already be in the infirmary."

Ron and Harry laughed, but Hermione looked concerned. "Percy, remember what McGonagall said—no fighting!"

Malfoy glared at Percy. "We'll see how tough you are in Dueling Club."

Percy perked up. "Dueling? Now you're speaking my language."

Malfoy sneered before walking away. Hermione sighed. "You're going to get detention, I just know it."

Percy grinned. "What can I say? Trouble finds me."

Later that day – Defense Against the Dark Arts

Professor Quirrell stammered nervously as he introduced the basics of defensive spells. Percy sat in the back, trying his best not to fall asleep. Compared to actual combat against monsters, this felt like preschool.

"Now, t-today we will learn the Disarming Charm—Expelliarmus!" Quirrell said shakily.

Percy rolled his eyes. "A spell just to make someone drop their wand? What's next, a spell to tie their shoelaces together?"

"Shh!" Hermione hissed, but Harry chuckled under his breath.

"Mr. Jackson," Quirrell said, his voice trembling as he looked directly at Percy. "Would you care to… demonstrate?"

Percy stood up, shrugging. "Sure, why not?"

Malfoy, sensing an opportunity, shot up from his seat. "I'll volunteer."

The class murmured in excitement as the two faced off. Percy knew he had to hold back. No divine powers, no swordplay—just magic. He raised his wand awkwardly, feeling more comfortable with Riptide.

"On three," Quirrell stammered. "One… two… three!"

"Expelliarmus!" Malfoy shouted, his wand flashing.

Percy reacted on instinct, rolling to the side and firing his own spell. "Expelliarmus!"

Malfoy's wand flew out of his hand, but Percy's overpowered spell sent him skidding across the floor, crashing into a desk.

The entire class gaped in shock.

"Oops," Percy muttered. "Too much power?"

Quirrell looked flustered but waved it off nervously. "V-very good, Mr. Jackson. M-m-maybe a little less force next time."

Harry and Ron clapped him on the back as Percy returned to his seat. "That was brilliant!" Ron whispered. "You should've seen Malfoy's face!"

Percy grinned, but inside he was worried. That spell was supposed to be weak, but I packed way more power into it. Gotta be more careful…

Hermione, however, was eyeing him suspiciously. "That was… very strong magic for someone who just transferred in."

Percy shrugged. "Beginner's luck?"

She didn't look convinced.

Later that night in the Gryffindor common room…

Percy sat alone by the fire, flipping through a book on wizarding history. Hecate had warned him not to stand out too much, but today had already been a disaster in that department.

"I need to figure out how to do this without blowing my cover," he muttered to himself.

"You'll find that harder than you think," a voice said behind him.

Percy turned to see the ghost of Nearly Headless Nick floating beside him, looking amused.

"You seem… out of place," the ghost mused.

Percy smirked. "You have no idea."

Nick floated closer. "Secrets have a way of coming to light, Mr. Jackson. I'd be careful if I were you."

Percy sighed. "Yeah. Thanks for the advice, Sir Ghostalot."

Nick chuckled and floated away, leaving Percy staring into the fire. He knew it was only a matter of time before things got complicated.

"One day at a time," he muttered. "Just survive Hogwarts… and maybe learn a few cool spells along the way."

End of Chapter 4