PJO: A Professor of Hogwarts

The Gryffindor common room was warm and lively, the golden glow of the fireplace casting flickering shadows along the stone walls. Students were chatting in clusters, sharing stories from the train ride and speculating about the new school year.

Ron and I had barely stepped through the portrait hole when a furious whirlwind named Hermione Granger descended upon us.

"Where have you two been?" she hissed, hands on her hips, eyes blazing with anger.

I opened my mouth to answer, but she didn't give me the chance.

"Do you have any idea what you missed? The Sorting? The feast? And don't even get me started on the fact that the entire school knows what you two did! Flying a car to Hogwarts?! Do you have any sense at all?"

I sighed and shot Ron a look. He already seemed to regret every life choice that had led to this moment.

"Look, Hermione, we know it was reckless, but—"

"Reckless? Reckless?!" she nearly shrieked before taking a deep breath, visibly forcing herself to calm down. "I spent the entire train ride worrying about you two! And then I find out from Professor McGonagall, of all people, that you crashed into the Whomping Willow! You're lucky you weren't expelled on the spot!"

Ron groaned and flopped onto one of the armchairs, rubbing his face. "We know, we know. Can we please not go over this again?"

"Oh, you want to move on? Fine! Let's talk about what you missed then." Hermione sat down opposite us, arms still crossed clearly she was still mad at us. "For one, Lockhart was stunning."

Ron made a face. "More like full of himself."

"That's not the point!" Hermione said, exasperated. "He's a world-famous wizard, and now he's our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor! He has every right to be full of himself."

I wasn't sure if I trusted Lockhart, but I let her continue.

"But that's not even the biggest thing. There's a new professor. A mysterious one."

I frowned. "A new professor? You mean besides Lockhart?"

Hermione nodded, her expression shifting from annoyance to curiosity. "Professor Percy Jackson."

Next to me, Ron flinched.

I noticed immediately. "Ron?"

Ron shifted uncomfortably, avoiding my gaze. "Yeah? What about him?"

"You flinched," Hermione pointed out, narrowing her eyes. "Why?"

"I didn't!" Ron protested too quickly. That only made Hermione lean forward, suspicion etched into every feature.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley," she said, voice dangerously soft, "you know something. Spill." Her eyes were saying clearly that 'what ever you know you better say it now or you will rest in peace.'

Ron let out a long, suffering sigh and sank deeper into his chair. "Look, it's not my secret to tell, alright?"

"But you do know something," I pressed.

Ron hesitated before nodding reluctantly. "Sort of. I've heard my dad mention him before. He's related to the Olympians I heard."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Olympians! That's what I heard in the Great Hall! Pansy Parkinson whispered about it like it was some kind of big deal. Neville said they were a myth, and the pure-blood families are afraid of them. What are they, Ron?"

Ron looked around, checking to make sure no one was listening, then leaned in. "Look, my dad doesn't talk about it much, but I heard him say that name this summer—late at night, when he thought I was asleep. He was telling Mum something about them. He said the Olympians are… different. They're not just powerful. They're something else. Something more."

Hermione and I exchanged a glance.

"More?" I echoed. "Like how?"

Ron shook his head. "I don't know, alright? But my dad was serious. He said the old wizarding families—the ones that have been around forever—believe the Olympians are real. And that they're not to be messed with. And if the stories about the Olympians are right then we should stay away from that professor as far away as possible."

That was unsettling. Why would Dumbledore hire a professor with a reputation like that?

"But Dumbledore hired him," Hermione reasoned. "If he's dangerous, why would he be here?"

Ron shuddered. "That's what worries me. If Dumbledore let him teach here, then it means something big is going on."

Silence stretched between us. The weight of Ron's words settled in. I wasn't sure what to think. A professor with an air of mystery, tied to a name that only pure-blood families seemed to fear? None of it made sense. But if there was one thing I was sure of, it was that Hogwarts had never been boring.

Finally, I sighed and leaned back in my chair, rubbing my temples. "Looks like this year is going to be another mess."

Ron groaned and flopped onto the couch. "Honestly, can we go thisyear without nearly dying?"

Hermione huffed, crossing her arms. "Oh, please. You two nearly got expelled before classes even started."

Ron and I exchanged guilty looks, but before she could launch into another lecture, he smartly shifted the conversation.

Soon enough, we found ourselves reminiscing about our summer—strange encounters, awkward family gatherings, and, of course, a certain flying car incident that Ron insisted we never speak of again.