The Feast
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QUICK NOTE:
Just to avoid confusion between Percy Jackson and Percy Weasley. Percy Weasley will never be referred to simply as Percy. Noted. Now, please continue reading the chapter e.e
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After the Sorting Ceremony ended, the Headmaster rose from his seat with a calm, wise look on his face.
"Now, before the feast begins, let me say a few words," he announced as the air filled with anticipation, everyone expecting the grand speech of the legendary Headmaster.
"Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"
"Thank you."
And with that, he sat back down as if nothing had happened. For a few seconds, silence reigned, until laughter and applause spread through the hall — some amused, others just confused.
"Oh great, our Headmaster's a crazy wizard," Percy said immediately, crossing his arms with an expression that mixed surprise and resignation.
Harry didn't reply, but his look made it obvious that he completely agreed.
"Show some respect. Dumbledore is the most powerful wizard alive... and a genius," said a tall, lanky young man sitting nearby. His red hair, formal posture, and strong resemblance to Ron and the Weasley twins made it easy to guess who he was — another brother. Percy Weasley.
When Harry had reached the tables earlier, the boy had even greeted him with a formal handshake, as if he were meeting royalty.
Percy Weasley seemed to realize he hadn't introduced himself properly. "By the way, I'm Percy Weasley. A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Potter," he said with such pompous dignity that it sounded more like he was attending a diplomatic meeting.
"Percy?" Harry repeated, raising an eyebrow. After all, he had a brother with that same name.
"I'm also named Percy," added his brother, looking straight at the redhead. Of course, to him, this guy didn't have anything close to the Percy style. "It'll be hard to tell us apart... so we'll just call you Percy 2," he concluded naturally, nodding with satisfaction.
Percy Weasley's expression twisted for a brief instant, as if the nickname had wounded his pride. "I'm older and I've been at Hogwarts for years. Plus, I'm a prefect," he began in a self-important tone. But before he could continue his long speech about seniority, the twins — who had been listening closely — leaned over with mischievous grins.
"I think Percy 2 doesn't like his new nickname," said one.
"Then how about Percy the Pompous?" suggested the other.
"The Bossy One."
"Mr. Prefect."
Each nickname was worse than the last, and the twins took turns laughing hysterically while their older brother frowned, doing his best to keep his composure.
"The Red Baron," added Percy Jackson with a playful smile.
The twins glanced at each other, clearly approving, and gave him matching thumbs up. "You get us, Percy 1!" they said between laughs.
"That's enough," grumbled the eldest Weasley. "You'd better eat," he added with a sigh, pointing at the table to change the subject.
Until that moment, Percy hadn't really noticed the food in front of him. But when he looked down, his eyes widened in awe. The plates had magically appeared, now overflowing with all kinds of dishes. The table was literally covered in food — juicy steaks, roasted potatoes, chicken legs, crispy bacon, and even mint chocolates for some odd reason.
"Wow," Percy muttered, amazed by the feast. There were so many options that he didn't even know where to start. His mother used to make big celebratory dinners whenever one of them achieved something important, and the sight of that table brought those memories back. He also remembered Dred, who adored food even though he didn't actually need it. According to stories, he could live for centuries without eating or drinking, yet he loved tasting everything he was given.
Unfortunately, they couldn't bring him anything this time. He'd have to wait until the holidays, when Harry and Percy planned to deliver a mountain of supplies... assuming he had already run out of what they'd left behind.
Both brothers served themselves steak and roasted potatoes, eating happily. Percy enjoyed every bite, though he muttered something about craving a greasy cheeseburger from a very specific fast-food place. Harry ignored him; his attention was fixed on the ghost staring directly at him, eyes filled with sadness and longing as he looked down at the plate.
"Uh... do you want some?" Harry asked, uncomfortable under the ghost's persistent gaze.
"Oh, no thank you, boy. Ghosts can't eat... though I do miss it," replied the spirit with a melancholy tone. "It's been over three hundred years since I last had a bite."
Harry recognized him instantly — the same ghost they'd seen earlier, following the blood-covered man through the corridors.
"Hello, Sir Nicholas," said the eldest Weasley politely before turning to the first-years. "This is the ghost of Gryffindor, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington."
The ghost straightened proudly, used to curious stares by now.
"Oh, I know you! You're called Nearly Headless Nick," said Ron, recalling the stories his brothers had told him at home.
At that, the ghost frowned slightly, clearly annoyed.
"Why do they call him that?" asked Seamus Finnigan, confused.
Without saying a word, the ghost grabbed his ear and pulled. In a second, his head tilted and nearly fell off, held in place only by a thin strip of ghostly skin and flesh acting as a hinge.
The sight was so grotesque that several students nearly threw up. Hermione dropped her fork in disgust, and Harry quickly looked away.
Only Percy kept chewing calmly, watching the ghost with fascination, as if analyzing the precision of the cut.
At that moment, Harry suddenly felt a distinct gaze on him. He turned his head, searching for its source — and found it at the staff table.
Next to a man wearing a turban, he saw another professor with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin, staring intently at him over the turban.
The moment their eyes met, Harry felt a sharp pain on his scar and instinctively raised his hand to his forehead.
Percy, who had still been thinking about how that ghost's neck wound might have been made, turned just in time to see his brother clutching his forehead in pain. He followed Harry's gaze and met the same professor's cold, fixed eyes. Percy frowned suspiciously; for a moment, he thought the man might be using magic to bother his brother.
However, Harry spoke before Percy could do anything foolish.
"Who's that professor? The one next to the guy with the turban?" he asked quietly, without taking his eyes off the staff table.
The eldest Weasley turned slightly to look in the direction Harry had indicated.
"The one with the turban is Professor Quirrell, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. And the one beside him is Professor Snape, who teaches Potions... though everyone knows Snape always wanted the job Quirrell has now," he explained calmly, as if it were common knowledge.
"Hmm." Percy nodded, studying the man with the turban for a moment. "If he teaches Defense, he must be a pretty powerful wizard, right?"
The redhead paused to think. "I'm not sure. Before teaching Defense, he used to be the Muggle Studies professor."
At that, Percy immediately lost interest and went back to his food.
Meanwhile, Harry kept sneaking glances at Snape, who never once looked away from him.
When dinner ended, another wave of dishes appeared magically on the tables—treacle tarts, custard puddings, fresh fruit, and even some glowing desserts that looked straight out of a fairytale. The air filled with warm, sweet aromas, and for several minutes, the students focused only on enjoying the feast.
After a while, the Headmaster rose again. This time, his gaze was slightly more serious.
"Before you return to your dormitories, I have a few announcements," he began, his tone calm but firm. "The forest surrounding the castle is strictly forbidden for all students, both new and old. It is home to many dangerous creatures."
His eyes drifted briefly toward the Weasley twins, who tried their best not to laugh.
"Mr. Filch has also asked me to remind you that magic should not be used in the corridors or during breaks."
A faint murmur spread among the students, but the next announcement silenced them completely.
"And lastly... I must warn you that anyone who does not wish to die a most painful death would do well to avoid the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side."
The silence that followed was almost complete.
Harry nearly laughed, thinking it was a joke. But when he looked at the serious faces of the professors—especially Dumbledore's—he realized the Headmaster wasn't joking at all.
"Is this kind of thing normal at this school?" Percy muttered, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. The way Dumbledore had said it only made him want to explore the castle even more.
"No, not usually," answered Percy Weasley, adjusting his prefect badge. "The Headmaster normally explains the reasons behind such restrictions, but this time... he didn't. It's rather odd."
Then he stood up and raised his voice with authority. "Alright, all Gryffindors, follow me."
The students obeyed, trailing after him through a maze of corridors. They climbed staircases that moved on their own, walked down halls lit by floating torches, and even passed behind paintings and tapestries that concealed secret passages. The sense of mystery grew with every step.
Finally, they reached a large portrait of a plump woman in a pink dress, who looked at them curiously.
"Password?" she asked in a melodic voice.
"Caput Draconis," replied the prefect confidently.
The portrait nodded and swung open like a door, revealing a circular opening in the wall. One by one, the students climbed through.
After helping Neville, who nearly tripped at the entrance, they all stepped into the Gryffindor common room. It was wide and cozy, filled with soft armchairs, scarlet curtains, and a fireplace that sent golden sparks dancing into the air. The rounded walls and warm lights made the place feel alive.
Percy Weasley explained the layout: the girls' dormitories were to the left, the boys' to the right, both reached by spiral staircases.
Luckily, Harry and Percy Jackson would be sharing the same room, along with Ron and Neville.
And so, amid laughter, curiosity, and a mix of fatigue and excitement, their first day at Hogwarts Castle came to an end... leaving behind the feeling that the days ahead would be far more interesting than they could have ever imagined.