15. awful perhaps but still wonderful

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The clouds are stormy in the Great Hall, floating above the lively crowd, vulnerable to the floating candles. It wouldn't catch fire of course, they were enchanted after all. Products of magic that were created with a wave of a wand and could very well be made to vanish with the same.

Despite its less than permanent nature, it's a matter of wonder for those gathered. Kids point up at it and more grown up kids dub the odd shapes formed by the clouds as their friends. Along with the clouds, another something or rather someone held the attention of the audience.

Hogwarts receives oddballs all the time. It is absolutely not uncommon and rarely of importance. Yet, a six feet tall eleven year old is a matter of interest.

Upon closer inspection, they figure out that the six feet tall individual with dark waves for hair conversing enthusiastically with the first years was not in fact eleven. Although their school robes may indicate to them being an older student stuck with chaperoning the kids, they neither had an identifying insignia nor was their face forgettable.

The students track their progress from the doors to the podium where they find the teachers watching with ill concealed interest. Throughout the walk, the stranger converses with the flock of kids surrounding her and observes the magical hall with slouched shoulders and mild interest.

"Ah yes," Albus Dumbledore's remark is amused and self satisfied beyond reason as he mounts the stage out of nowhere. Others focus on him with rapt attention. "Welcome to another magical year at Hogwarts!" Abiding the norm, he acknowledges the peculiar happening of the day but doesn't elaborate on it. "Indeed how magical it'll be."

No less than thirteen goblets are emptied across the hall at the prospect.

"As usual, remember that the Forbidden Forest is," the Headmaster leans closer, the wings of the owl upon the podium flaps its wings ominously, "forbidden. And all the other highly discouraged places are highly discouraged as well," which was of course, a whole half of the castle. "Finally, vwdoma wfbia itnogg."

The Hall echoes with applause for phrases they didn't understand. Minerva takes over with a much more comprehensible speech, conveying the purpose of the shabby hat following a warm welcome. There is no stutter in the usual routine of students being called out and sorted in their respective houses despite the stranger's presence.

Fred and George produce red and gold fireworks at one point. The action doesn't deter the group of Ravenclaws passing biscuits beneath the table. The wait for the feast could be torturous at times. Vincent Crabbe's short nap remains undisturbed too.

"Jackson, Perseus!" that serves as the wake up call. Everyone looks upon with ravenous interest as the stranger climbs the stage. They walk with a quiet sort of confidence, head held high yet shoulders still slouched. Nothing gives away what she was feeling.

Percy curses with every step she scales. Some resemble prayers too. It mostly consists of threats though, to a particular goddess of magic.

"This year, Hogwarts is honored to take part in a student exchange program!" Minerva announces with such pride that Harry might believe the ruse as well. Her gaze sweeps over to the Gryfindor table as if to invite them into the inside joke as well. "We've tied up with Illvermony, American school of magic to bring back this age old tradition."

Hogwarts hadn't been in good relations with Illvermony for centuries.

"Thus, an exchange has been made for the chosen individuals to grow their knowledge and cultivate new experience unlike any other. Percy Weasley has been sent to represent Hogwarts."

The said Gryfindor graduated a year ago. It didn't matter though since the Weasley clan had been deemed uncountable decades ago and their former perfect practiced as an apprentice to a ministry official and remained in the shadows. None noticed the twins mechanical clapping with the exception of Lee. Ron didn't bother with acknowledging the news at all.

"In return, Perseus," she doesn't flinch, merely offering a wave. Awkward, one that dared might add. "Jackson has transferred from lIvermony. I request you all to treat her as one of yours and be accomodating as possible," it sure didn't sound like a request. "She'll join the fifth years yet will share classes with other years as well."

Percy is grateful and then is not when she's made to take the seat at the center. Grateful since her legs were starting to ache until an external force began to knock at the walls in her mind when the ugly hat touched her head.

"Ah, I see!" the hat exclaims, jubilant for reason only known to it. "The last teenager I had to sort didn't posses such strong walls," it's voice lowers to a murmur, only to be heard by her. It is incessant and makes her itch to for her sword.

She hums in response instead. She shifts, naturally seeking a physical presence for the voice.

"That will hardly be necessary," her mind quietens at her realization that the hat is capable of picking up stray thoughts, "yes I'm capable of it though what I'm not capable of is," it pauses and when it speaks, it sounds from her other side, "breaking down your walls."

"Why would you need to do that?" She mutters to the amused voice. The sentient article of clothing reduces the world to the two of them alone. The Hall and its audience falls away. Might as well strike up a conversation.

"To sort you of course!"

"You look into the kids' minds to sort them?" Her words take an incredulous tone.

"Yes yes," rather than impatient, it sounds eager, "I pick out their predominant traits from their memories and sort them in the houses fit for them."

"Everyone? Like there are no exceptions?"

"None at all! Allow me in, won't you? I've a feast to attend to."

Percy wonders what talking hats even eat before his request settles in to redirect her focus to the actual concern. "You don't really want to look into my mind man,"

"I do actually," there is the impatience the Sorting Hat is known for.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," she sighs, picturing the walls that hid her mind. A portion of the bricks begin to move in similar fashion to the entrance to Diagon Alley. She isn't sure the right procedure for it but she never had a chance to have this particular lesson with Nathan nor Hypnos.

The Hat delves in with great enthusiasm, sorting through her very first memories. Sally's warm arms cradling her, the cool sea breeze caressing their cabin, Poseidon's golden glow that has stayed with her, the shiny bronze scales of the snake that she strangled in her crib, the many schools she has been to flash by, a slideshow of kind mentors, annoyed teachers, hesitant friends, and unbearable bullies.

The sun it days at camp when she had lounged beneath Thalia's tree following the puzzling events of her first quest with the music of clashing swords and chatter. The scene takes on a sharper edge as the years pass. Every quest morph to mosaics she can't understand, the restless Hat's decision has her sighing in replied at having to live through a lifetime once again.

Her knuckles take on a pale shade at her firm grip on the stool. The wait for the last few years feels as long as time itself though it has been paltry couple minutes that allows another quick nap.

"Right, right," the Hat mutters, his volume rising with very repetition. "RIGHT!" His exclaim startles every poor soul in the Hall, echoing off the walls.

Percy's worries dissipate to nothing. The magical artefact on her head reins in its curiosity at the first glimpse of the yawning pit. It flicks through her less than glamourous past months instead, unease filtering through her mental barriers.

"Brave of course, curious to a fault with absolute devotion to anything that can be summoned at will," the Sorting Hat sounds rushed in her mind, shaken and inquisitive all at once,"devious when you wish to be, loyalty of course, the fatal flaw,"

"Cool." her breath hitches when she speaks, "Hufflepuff then?" She inquires, referring to Ron's description of the houses.

"But no--" the Hat mumbles, letting loose thoughts dance in her mind. "If you had come some years ago maybe but you've changed far too much Ms. Jackson,"

She absolutely doesn't want to ponder on that.

"Your loyalty may become all encompassing but the means you take to achieve things," it's tone raises, almost hurting her ears, "mhm,"

"So?" She asks when the thoughtful hum is drawn out.

"You'll have a wonderful time Ms. Jackson! Awful perhaps but still wonderful, simply wonderful!"

She thinks the repetition of the word may hold some truth but it doesn't.

"Slytherin!"

16. escape plans, late night talks, some thoughts of a kid that shouldn't be one

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School is well, school. Percy had wished, hoped for a magical school to be different but she is still oddly comforted by Hogwarts' resemblance to her mortal schools. And that made her nauseous.

Some old teacher from her primary school must be laughing somewhere. That was the only thought as she stared at the thick stack of parchment placed in front of her. It was supposed to be her timetable.

Snape glides away with his best of wishes to not bring dishonor to the noble House of Slytherin. Still, Percy thinks she might have preferred the Head of her House for the conversation she had with the Headmaster the night before.

Theatrics seemed better than honesty.

Talking of dramatic individuals, there was the rest of the house. The older students currently strutted towards her for introduction or intimidation or both.

She has been successful in avoiding them by limiting her interaction to the first years she had befriended. It wasn't a choice in the first place. The kids' distrust was replaced with friendship in a swift turn following the tales she had regaled them with.

Pieces of more tragic stories that she had given to comfort their anxious selves. Anxiety felt in a battlefield and at the prospect of a new environment may be different in some aspects but the feeling remains similar enough for them to find comfort in the words.

That resulted in a familiar scene for her. To be surrounded by kids that look up at her and for her to be overwhelmed with a wish to not fuck up.

She is thrown back to her train of thoughts about Hogwarts resembling too much of her mortal schools at the impending crises of having to face the elites of the Slytherin House.

Monsters? She could deal with but teenagers possessed a cruelty that can't be replicated anywhere else.

Also, she has promised Grover that she wouldn't punch anyone on the first day. The following days were full of possibilities. She didn't dare try to make promises for those.

So, she surveys the hall as subtly as she could. For the world, she ate her porridge whilst making light conversations. In her mind, she mapped possible escape routes.

In the end, she decided that blatant ignorance would be the best choice. Her hectic schedule proved that elaborate plans would be useless if she were to miss classes and gods forbid, repeat a year or something.

She wanted to get this over with as she did with all schools. Especially after last night's talk and her parents Iris Message a week ago.

Percy gathered her book bag, vaguely registering in the back of her mind that her shoulder has taken too much damage to carry such weight. She shouldered it anyway and waved to her friends. She made her way to the doors, walking past the short brunet leading the trio of a blonde and an olive skinned boy.

Needless to say, Theodore Nott was not pleased. And the consequence of it would catch up to her within the end of the week.

Percy trudged through the day, confused and tired. She sat in classes with a vague understanding of the topics taught that didn't extend more than the possibility of having read the word somewhere.

Mostly she wondered if she was in the right class, despite the fact she couldn't know the clear distinction between the classes.

Astronomy and Arithmetic both began with an 'A' and the professors droned on and on about stars and the distance between said celestial bodies.

She all but ignored her classmates' curious gazes. Choosing to nod at their attempts at conversations, she tried her hardest to concentrate on the classes.

The unfamiliar surroundings and equally unacquainted people allowed perfect conditions for her mind to dig up old skeletons and that's something that can't be allowed.

Percy's early escape aided her in turning up at the right time in the second years Herbology class with the Slytherins.

She liked Professor Sprout enough. Bubbly and reprimanding at the same time, somewhat like Mrs. Dodds #2. She grins to herself at that. It is still wild that the servants of Hades work as tutors for his children as well.

She spends the class marveling at the fucked up things the Wizarding World call plants and trying not to think how those could be used in warfare.

At the end, she gets cornered by Penelope Fawley and Diane Carter. The very second year couple that had advised her to be equipped with sufficient time and practice before facing the elites.

They start with thumbs up and accepting smiles. "Hey,"

"I've no idea how you escaped them," Diane says breathless.

Penelope nods. "They were searching for you,"

"Lucky me," Percy gathers her books, struggling with the stack of parchment to see what her next class will be.

"I don't think they're as bad as they were,"

"They were never bad. Intolerable at times, that's all."

"Yeah," Diane drags the syllable, "wanting to assert their dominance or whatever,"

"There are changes though,"

Percy chooses to contribute to the conversation then, "So I annoyed them for nothing?"

"I wouldn't say nothing—"

"I don't know," Diane shrugs, her dark blond hair dancing with the motion. "They've changed though. At least some."

Penelope plays with her dark braids, agreeing. "New leader and all,"

Percy hums in response, losing the subject they were talking about. She's saved from picking at the awkward air by the girls rushing away to the Muggle Studies class with rushed promises to see her later.

The demigod turned witch was left to sigh at the large castle. She contemplated between going where her heart takes her and flipping a coin to find her classroom.

In the end, she flipped a drachma.

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The Golden Trio had a less than enviable day. It was easier in the Grimmauld Place to keep up pretences that she wasn't the descendant of the darkest wizard of the century.

It was easier indeed with the twins waxing poems about her in an attempt for her to introduce them to another prankster duo back in that camp of hers. When she would geek out with Hermione and be amused at Sirius' stories that shouldn't be relatable in any way but they were to her.

In the midst of the apprehensive students of Hogwarts, the three felt like red chickens. Gaudy, incomprehensible and dark.

Or at least, Harry did. The rest of their little group were occupied with their prefect duties. The twins carried on with their pranks. Ginny was the only one different but in a way that he was learning to hate.

She proved to be a perfect distraction. Someone to be unreasonably annoyed at that made him annoyed at himself for being unreasonably annoyed at her.

Harry's scar itched more times than he could count. He sometimes catches glimpses of himself in the mirror or the cauldron and sees it morphs into 'traitor'. He felt sick more than anything.

Sick of himself. Of his nightmares, the school, the teachers, their expectations. Of his envy and the now permanent feeling of being useless.

He wants to write to Sirius about it. The only individual that he can call his family without hesitation since the law says so—well not in the recent times since he was a criminal but technically he is family.

Sirius had walked into that himself. Therefore, there was a high chance that he may be protected from the adverse impacts that came with him calling people his family. Perhaps, he will live, not be forced to care for a baby and preferably not blow into a balloon.

Still, the implications of Sirius being his family brought with more indulgences that he had never even imagined for himself. He would be free. He could move out of that wretched house. He could live with his godfather. Be there for him and count on someone without doubts to be there for him as well.

And that thought impeded him from sharing his concerns. He cannot lose this just because his teenage self refuse to get with the times. He may be a kid but the environment he lived in wasn't made for one.

But he was sick of it all.

And the worst was yet to come.