Chapter 8: The Sorting and Surprises

As Percy stepped onto the stone steps leading to Hogwarts Castle, a wave of awe washed over him. The castle loomed above them, its turrets stretching toward the night sky, illuminated by the soft glow of torchlight. It looked ancient, powerful, and alive in a way that sent a shiver down his spine. He could feel the magic in the air—it was thick, humming beneath his skin like the ocean's tide, whispering secrets he couldn't quite understand.

They were led inside through the massive oak doors and into a grand entrance hall, its marble floors gleaming in the dim lighting. Everything about Hogwarts felt old—older than Camp Half-Blood, older than Olympus, older than anything he had ever stepped foot in. The walls seemed to watch him as he walked.

At the front of the group, Professor McGonagall turned to face them, her sharp gaze sweeping over the first-years. "Welcome to Hogwarts," she said in a crisp, authoritative voice. "In a few moments, you will enter the Great Hall and be sorted into your houses. The four houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history, and while you are here, your house will be like your family. Your triumphs will earn you points. Any rule-breaking, however, will cost you."

Percy shifted slightly, his fingers tapping against his side. He had already heard about the houses from Ron during the train ride. Gryffindor seemed like the best fit—he wasn't exactly bookish enough for Ravenclaw, too independent for Hufflepuff, and he already knew he'd never survive in Slytherin. But he wasn't so sure where he belonged yet.

McGonagall gave them one last piercing look before turning toward the towering doors in front of them. With a wave of her hand, they swung open.

The sight that greeted them stole Percy's breath away.

The Great Hall was unlike anything he had ever seen. Thousands of floating candles hovered in the air, casting a warm glow over the long wooden tables where older students sat, dressed in robes with their house colors. The plates and goblets gleamed gold and silver, reflecting the flickering light. Above them, the enchanted ceiling mirrored the night sky outside, filled with twinkling stars and drifting clouds. Percy could hardly tell where the stone walls ended and the sky began.

The students murmured as the first-years walked in, their eyes scanning the newcomers with interest. Percy caught a few whispers—some just wondering about the new arrivals, others commenting on specific names. He thought he heard his own name spoken, but he ignored it. He was used to people whispering about him back at Camp Half-Blood, and he wasn't about to let it rattle him now.

At the front of the hall, a simple wooden stool stood on a raised platform. On it sat an old, tattered hat. Percy raised an eyebrow. That's the Sorting Hat?

Suddenly, the hat twitched. Then, to Percy's surprise, it opened a jagged mouth—and began to sing.

The hall fell silent as the Sorting Hat's voice rang out, echoing through the stone walls. It sang of the four houses, describing the bravery of Gryffindor, the loyalty of Hufflepuff, the intelligence of Ravenclaw, and the cunning of Slytherin. Percy listened carefully, picking apart the words. It reminded him of the way Chiron would speak when telling an important prophecy—layered with meaning, warning of things to come.

As the song ended, the students applauded, and McGonagall stepped forward with a roll of parchment. "When I call your name, come forward, sit on the stool, and the hat will sort you into your house."

The sorting began.

One by one, students stepped forward, placed the hat on their heads, and were sorted. Hermione Granger barely had time to sit before the hat called out, "GRYFFINDOR!" She practically skipped to the table, beaming with pride. Draco Malfoy went to Slytherin almost instantly, the hat not even hesitating. Neville Longbottom nearly ran off before the hat finally called out "GRYFFINDOR!"

Then—

"Perseus Jackson."

A ripple went through the hall. Students whispered, heads turned, and Percy felt every eye on him. He sighed. Here we go again.

He stepped forward, his boots echoing against the stone floor. He climbed onto the stool, and the hat was lowered onto his head.

The moment it touched him, a voice echoed in his mind.

"Ahh… now this is interesting…"

Percy stiffened. "Uh, hi?"

The hat chuckled. "You, my boy, are not an ordinary wizard. No, not at all. There's something old in you. Something ancient, powerful, and entirely different from the magic of this world."

Percy frowned. "Yeah, I get that a lot. Can you just sort me into a house?"

The hat ignored him. "You have the heart of a warrior, the instincts of a leader. Gryffindor would welcome you. But you are also clever, strategic… Ravenclaw, perhaps? And then there's that ambition—that drive to survive, no matter what. Slytherin would do well with you. And yet, you are fiercely loyal to those you care about. Hufflepuff would give you a home."

Percy groaned. "Look, I appreciate the analysis, but can we speed this up?"

The hat chuckled again. "Very well… but be warned, Perseus Jackson. Your path will not be easy. The world of magic is watching you, and your destiny is far from written. I hope you are ready for what is to come."

Percy braced himself.

"Better be… GRYFFINDOR!"

The Gryffindor table erupted into cheers.

Relieved, Percy took off the hat and made his way to the table, sliding into a seat next to Ron. The Weasley twins clapped him on the back, already grinning at him like they were planning some kind of prank. Across from him, Hermione looked both pleased and intrigued.

"That took a while," she said. "What did the hat say?"

Percy hesitated. "Oh, you know… just hat stuff."

Hermione narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but before she could press him further, the Sorting continued.

As the last student was sorted and McGonagall took the hat away, the headmaster—Albus Dumbledore—stood. The room instantly quieted.

"Welcome!" he said, spreading his arms wide. "To all new students, welcome to your first year at Hogwarts! And to our returning students, welcome back! Before we begin our feast, let me say just a few words: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"

Percy blinked. This guy is the most powerful wizard in Britain?

The students laughed and clapped, and with a wave of Dumbledore's hands, the empty plates filled with food. Percy's stomach growled. He hadn't had a proper meal all day. He didn't hesitate to dig in.

As he ate, he glanced around the room. He could still feel something lingering in the air—something watching him. He wasn't sure what it was, but he knew one thing for certain.

His time at Hogwarts was going to be very interesting.