▬▬▬▬▬ CHAPTER TWELVE ▬▬▬▬▬

SINCE ESMERELDA WOULDN'T BE ABLE to celebrate her twelfth birthday with her friends due to school, an early birthday party was hosted the day before term began. It was her siblings' idea and she was more than happy to go along with it. Cakes were smuggled in by the Hermes kids (as per usual) and gifts were exchanged. Despite the happy day, she couldn't help but notice Ethan's odd behavior.

Ethan had been acting weirdly ever since Luke was announced as a traitor to the whole camp. Even the prospect of traveling to magical Britain didn't excite him. It concerned Esmerelda greatly. It was understandable for Annabeth to be bothered with Luke's betrayal, they came to camp together five years ago after all, but what was wrong with Ethan? She couldn't remember a time where he and Luke had been particularly close. Ethan always pushed others away—except for her.

Her mind went back to the time Luke requested to take Ethan to the infirmary. Something had happened between them. Ethan said that Luke spoke about his unknown mother, but would that really be enough to render her best friend in such a distant state?

They reached Sweetie's Ice Cream Factory where she finally couldn't hold it in anymore.

"What's wrong with you?" She blurted out loudly, causing Ethan to trip on his way up the stairs.

He gasped, holding the railing as the staircase trembled slightly. "Esmerelda, what the Styx?!"

"Sorry!" She squeaked, looking worried. They really needed to find a more stable way to reach the second floor. "I was just worried about you. You haven't been acting the same since Luke..."

He straightened up at the mention of his name. "I'm fine. I just... I can't get the words he said out of my head." He admitted.

"You mean, when he went with you to the infirmary?" She asked. "Did he talk about his plans or something? You didn't... You didn't know that he was the traitor, did you?"

He hesitated, then slowly walked back down the stairs so he would be standing in front of her. "Of course not, he just..."

"Here," Luke tossed a ziplock bag of ambrosia squares on Ethan's lap.

The younger boy straightened up on his seat at the edge of the infirmary bed and plucked out a gold square. "Thanks," he muttered ungratefully, popping it into his mouth. Immediately he could feel his nose shift back in place, the cut on his tongue from when he accidentally bit it seal up, and the ache in his ribs fade away. Even then, he still felt like shit.

"That kid—Caleb, right?—seems like an asshole." Luke said casually.

"He is," Ethan replied darkly, looking at his bloody knuckles. "Son of Ares. Thinks he's great because his daddy's an Olympian and his mommy told him he once visited him as a child. I just get pissed every time I hear him brag about it and then he starts taunting me about—about—"

"—About being unclaimed." Luke finished, and Ethan nodded once. He glanced at the older boy and was surprised to find him scowling in pure disgust. "The gods' Western civilization is a disease, and he's just another one who's been infected."

Ethan narrowed his eyes at him. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't you find it sickening, Ethan?" He questioned. "How the gods think they're so high and mighty? Ares visits his kid once and Caleb acts like he's the greatest man ever. Percy retrieves Zeus' bolt and didn't get so much of a thanks. Esmerelda's spared from being unjustly murdered and all of a sudden she's back to worshipping them as if they never wanted her dead."

He could tell the last part struck a chord in him.

"The gods are cruel, nothing to be worshipped over." Luke stated. "They have kids with mortal men and women and abandon them the second they're born. No hint of their identity... Not until the kid reaches camp. And even then, they may never even know, isn't that right, Ethan?"

"Shut it, Luke." He said quietly, gripping the bed cloth tighter. A part of him was inching for his earring. He wanted to rip it out and run it through Luke's chest, but he knew he'd never be able to win a fight against him.

"Why do you think your mother never claimed you?"

"Shut. Up."

"I'm not asking you to be mean," Luke said gently. "I'm asking because I want to know what you think."

"I don't know why," he spat bitterly. "And I don't care about that anymore."

Luke rose a blonde brow, amused. "Really? You never thought of it time to time? Never looked at all the other cabins for the goddesses and wondered which one of them you belonged in? You're telling me that after—what, two three years you finally gave up?"

"You don't know what the fuck I've been thinking!" He finally blew up.

"I think I do," Luke responded calmly. "You see, my master's been telling me a couple of things... He could sense the resentment in you. You hate the gods don't you? You hate how your mother never bothered to claim you even after four years."

"Your... master? Luke, who have you been talking to?" He demanded.

"You'll find out soon, no point in me telling you." The blonde shrugged. "What matters now is that my master sees your worth, and you're wasting it staying in here. The gods are going to fall, Ethan, Olympus will fall. We're going to rebuild it and make it better."

Ethan's eyes widened. "You're crazy."

"I'm a realist. And you are too, you've just got that part of you buried under all that preteen angst." Luke chuckled. "There's nothing here for you, Ethan. What more do you have to lose?"

Ethan looked down. Luke had a point. He had nothing here at camp. But then he remembered something. Or someone, in this instance. "I have Essie..."

"Ah, Essie," Luke smiled. "I feel bad for that kid. She's thrown headfirst into this life and then the next second, the gods want her dead for being born. But some of them were kind, they pitied her so they decided to spare her. That earned them her blind devotion, but I can see right through her. She fears them more than she hates them. That's a small problem, though. My master likes her very much. He wants to build a better place for her, you see. He thinks of her as a gift, rather than a threat that needs to be exterminated."

"You never answered me," Ethan said slowly, his mind reeling at the thought of a better world without the Olympian gods ruining it. "Who's your master?"

"Someone a lot more powerful than the gods," he answered. "And a lot better too. He's on our side, Ethan. All the unclaimed kids, the kids who feel abandoned by their godly parent, or those who have been wronged by the gods... He's fighting for us."

Someone more powerful than the gods? Ethan wondered. The paradise Luke promised seemed too good to be true. No longer having to sleep on the floor of the overcrowded cabin eleven, equal treatment, respect... and Esmerelda no longer having to fear incurring the gods' wrath.

Luke's smile widened. "I can see that you still need time to think about it. No worries, you'll find me. Hopefully you could bring Essie with you too. My master really wants to meet her." He stood up and began walking out the door only to stop and turn to face him. "I'd put a sword at your throat and tell you to keep quiet about this, but something tells me you'll keep this conversation a secret between us."

"He just what?"

Ethan was immediately pushed out of his thoughts by Esmerelda's voice. "Huh?"

"You were saying... about Luke... He was just what?" She asked again.

He swallowed thickly and tried not to look away from her eyes. "He was just acting like an ass about me being unclaimed and all."

Esmerelda looked scandalized. "He was? I can't believe it! Don't listen to anything he said, Ethan! Whatever he said about you—it's not true!"

He forced himself to smile. "Thanks... And don't worry, I refused to listen to his BS so I walked out. I couldn't stop wondering why he was acting so weird..." Holy Hera, he thought as lies continued to slip smoothly out of his mouth. I can't believe I'm actually lying to her. And so easily, too. "But I know why now."

Esmerelda was still frowning to herself. "I shouldn't have let him take you to the infirmary..."

He tugged on her arm-sleeve. "Don't go feeling guilty about that. I can handle myself. Now let's go find the portkey."

She nodded and followed him up the stairs, the old metal steps creaking as they did so. The polecat statuette was where they had last left it on the floor, they didn't want to risk placing it back on the shelf in case it transported them back to London again. They knelt around it, their hands hovering over the statuette.

"We really should've brought a pillow or something for our faces." She muttered, too hesitant to grab it.

"Too late now." Ethan shrugged. "You got a good grip on your owl's cage?"

"It's Ethan Jr, and yes I do. What about you and my suitcases?"

"Got them. In one... two... three!"

Esmerelda was sure she could never get used to the horrible sensation of using the portkey. As she felt herself get sucked into a vacuum, she made absolute sure to keep her mouth clamped shut in case she decided to throw up her breakfast.

Please don't let me land on my face, not the face, anything but the face... She prayed to whichever god was listening to her.

In the end, she landed on her back and ass. Ethan too.

"There has to be a better way to do this," Ethan grunted as he stalked out of the alleyway with one of Esmerelda's suitcases being wheeled behind them. She also made him carry Ethan Jr, who was sleeping soundly in his cage. How he managed to do that through their disastrous protkey journey was beyond them.

Esmerelda rubbed her aching bottom and chased after him, carrying her second suitcase. "You wouldn't happen to know where King's Cross Station is, do you?"

"Essie, I thought you googled it from Chiron's laptop!" Ethan groaned.

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I, um, forgot."

"Why does that not surprise me?" He'd poke her on the forehead if his hands weren't so full. "You're always so scatterbrained."

"I am not," she protested. "And we can just ask people for directions anyways." And with that, she walked over to the closest person she could find before Ethan could scold her about 'stranger danger'.

Thankfully, King's Cross Station was only a fifteen minute walk from where they were at and by the time they made it, they still had ten minutes to spare.

"Oh wait," Esmerelda paused as Ethan finished helping her put all her baggage on the cart—or trolley as the British called it. "I just realized something—the portkey! It'll go back to New York with you! I won't have any way to come back..."

"Relax, I'll just come pick you up then." Ethan assured. "Now where's platform nine and three quarters?"

It was nowhere to be found. Neither of the platform numbers had fractions on it, so by the time they reached platform nine, they knew that platform nine and three quarters wouldn't be there either.

"Are you sure Diakos didn't say anything about it?" Ethan whispered. They were starting to attract looks now because of Ethan Jr. It was a relief that the owl was still asleep.

She read the note over and over again. "No, and nothing's written here either."

"Maybe Basil forgot to translate it?" Ethan suggested.

"No, he wouldn't—What the Styx." Her jaw dropped. Behind Ethan, she had just witnessed a group of people walking through the wall.

He turned around but just saw a brick wall. "What, what'd you see?"

"These people just walked through the wall!" She spluttered.

He stared at her like she had just grown a second head. "Right..." He said carefully.

"No, I'm serious!" She took the cart handles from his hands and wheeled over towards the wall. "I swear, I saw it happen. They just walked through and then they were gone!"

"Essie, I'm not gonna let you walk through a wall." He exasperated. "You've had enough concussions this summer as is."

But Esmerelda wasn't listening. She was determined to prove him wrong. Quickly, she sped for the wall, instinctively closing her eyes as she got closed.

Ethan's eyes popped open. "Essie, stop—!" He shouted, gripping her shoulder to pull away... but then the other end of the cart vanished, and so did the rest of it as he and Esmerelda stumbled through.

She turned to give him a smug grin.

He pursed his lips. "Shut up." He said before she could say anything.

Her grin widened, and she turned away to admire her surroundings. It was just like station, but something about the place was just buzzing with magic. A red train was stationed next to a platform packed with bustling people that reminded her of the ones she saw back at Diagon Alley. All wearing billowy robes or old-fashioned outfits. A bunch of kids were carrying cats or owl cages while their parents fussed over them.

"Well," Ethan said, sounding somewhat bitter. "We're here. I guess you should go."

"Aw, Ethan, don't be sad!" She cried out, embracing him tightly and feeling bad for leaving him alone. Ethan was seriously anti-social, and she had never seen him act friendly towards anyone who wasn't her. A part of her wanted him to make some friends at camp, while the other part of her knew she'd just feel jealous and fear being replaced.

Ethan was glad that she couldn't see his face, because he was the reddest he had ever been. He was too embarrassed and stunned to hug her back, so he took the time to cool his face down before awkwardly patting her back. "Okay, okay, you can let go of me now."

She pulled back, positively beaming. "We'll see each other during break and all that! Plus, I'll write to you every week! And you better reply to me!"

"I will. Something tells me owl-me would peck my eyes out if I don't." He was absolutely serious about it too. That owl was just so violent.

"I'll see you in a couple of months." She promised. "Don't miss me too much and make sure the Stolls don't blow up our cabin or something equally as disastrous."

He shuddered at the thought of the Stolls. They sometimes listened to Esmerelda since they were close friends with her, but now that she would be gone... "I honestly think they might burn the whole camp down, but I'll try my best. I'll see you later. Stay alive for me, okay?" She would be out of the safety of camp borders... in a whole other country. Her scent was extremely strong too. Nobody could blame him for worrying.

"You stay alive too." She replied seriously before she broke out into a small smile. She was just about to turn away before he called out to her again.

"Hey, Essie..."

"Yeah?"

"Promise me another thing: don't let anyone push you around at that school. Kids can be cruel and you don't deserve any of that... So you gotta watch out for yourself, because I can't protect you there anymore..."

Her face softened. Ethan always secretly worried about her. "I will, I promise."

He smiled a little. "I'll see you later, crybaby."

She gave him one last smile before wheeling into one of the carriages. She found an empty compartment and put her things away quickly. Just then, the door slid open.

"Excuse me, may I sit here with you?" A polite girl asked. She had bushy brown hair and firm brown eyes.

Esmerelda shrugged. "Sure, there's enough space here."

"You're American," the girl noted, stepping inside and putting her stuff away at the corner. "I didn't know Hogwarts accepts foreign students. I'm Hermione Granger."

That's a cool name, she couldn't help but think. "I'm Esmerelda, but you can just call me Essie." She hoped she wouldn't ask for a last name since she didn't know it herself either. Then again, the teachers would probably question that too...

"Is this your first year too?" Hermione asked, looking giddy with anticipation.

She nodded. "Yeah, I'm a little nervous because I didn't even know that I was a witch until... recently."

Hermione's eyes lit up. "Really? Me too! Are you a Muggle-born?"

"No, my parents were witch and wizard, I just, um, never knew them and I was raised... muggle-y." She wanted to facepalm herself. Why oh why did she have to say that word? She sounded so painfully stupid.

"You mean you were muggle-raised." She corrected.

"Yeah," her cheeks flushed and she shot the bushy-haired girl a sheepish grin.

A loud whistle rang throughout the station.

"Oh, looks like the train's finally about to start moving!" Hermione exclaimed, looking very excited. She clearly wanted to get to Hogwarts as fast as possible.

Esmerelda turned towards the window and tried to look for a familiar face. She found Ethan leaning against one of the brick pillars, and they locked eyes. She waved goodbye as the train slowly began to move.

"Who's that?" Hermione asked.

"That's my friend, Ethan," she replied sadly. "He came here with me, but he's not a wizard so he can't come... I'm gonna miss him."

"You can always write letters. That's what I promised my parents." Hermione said soothingly.

"I know, I just..." I just hope the both of us are still alive by the end of this. "I just really really miss him."

Some time passed and they were far away from the Hogwarts Express now. The trolley lady had stopped by and offered them some snacks. Too curious about what wizards eat, both girls didn't hesitate to purchase whatever they could afford. Esmerelda was very surprised to find that the pictures on the chocolate frog cards moved.

"They're like gifs," she marveled. "But on paper!"

"Amazing, isn't it?" Hermione said breathlessly, staring at her own moving picture. "I heard that all pictures from the wizarding world moved like this."

"How do they do this? Is it a spell? Or a special camera?" Esmerelda wondered.

"Whichever it is, I hope we learn how to do them soon." Hermione beamed.

The door suddenly slid open. A very miserable, chubby little boy stood out in the hallway. "'S-scuse me," he stuttered. "Um, I'm Neville. I lost my toad, Trevor, have either of you seen him...?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, we haven't," Hermione said, standing up. "I'll help look for him if you like."

His face washed with relief. "Really? Thank you! I need all the help I can get..."

Hermione turned to Esmerelda. "Can you stay here and watch over our things?"

"Yeah, sure." It was pretty nice of Hermione to help Neville out.

The two of them left, leaving her alone. Esmerelda took the chance to change into her uniform. Now with truly nothing to do, she simply leaned back against the seat and relax, her leg bouncing up and down erratically from her ADHD. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for anything to entertain herself. Then, she spotted the chocolate frog card Hermione left in her spot.

She picked it up, looking at the picture and promptly choked on her spit. The man on the cover had a lanky body covered with deep blue robes and a matching pointed hat. His pale face, black hair, and deep green eyes were very familiar to her.

"Merlin..." She whispered her half-brother's name.

He was smiling at the cover, and then he gave her a friendly wave.

She liked this image of him a lot better than when she last saw him—scared for his life, crying, and begging for a chance to live. She flipped the card over to the back and inwardly groaned when she saw that the writing was—of course—in English. Luckily the words weren't in cursive so she tried her best to read it.

Merlin

Medieval, dates unknown. Most famous wizard of all time and arguably the most powerful. Sometimes known as the Prince of Enchanters. Part of the Court of King Arthur. An esteemed student from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (hailing from the House of Slytherin) and was taught by Salazar Slytherin himself! Tragically went missing at age of twenty-eight. He will be dearly missed, for he had a kind soul.

She flipped it back to the picture and was deeply disappointed to see that his picture-self had walked away. She placed the card back on the seat and stared off into space.

So he was only twenty-eight when he died... I'm glad he at least made it to adulthood, but he still had so many years ahead of him. She thought, smiling sadly.

The door slid open, and Hermione walked in. "You'll never believe who I just ran into!"

"Who?" She asked.

Hermione sat down and leaned closer to whisper, "Harry. Potter."

Esmerelda simply stared at her. "...Who?" She asked again.

"You don't know?!" She cried out.

"Is he a singer?" She asked dumbly.

"A singer?" Hermione snorted. "I don't think so. Anyways, Harry Potter's famous in the wizarding world. He was the one who defeated You-Know-Who!"

Another blank stare. "...Who?"

"The dark wizard!" She exclaimed, then became hesitant. "You know... Voldemort..."

"Voldemort," she repeated. The name sounded funnier with her American accident. "Sounds like a disease."

"Haven't you read anything about the wizarding world before coming here?" Hermione asked.

"Nah. I hate reading." She answered then snickered at her horrified face. "I have a good reason though. I'm dyslexic."

Her face fell. "Oh that must be horrible... Now I don't blame you for hating reading. Maybe you should ask one of the professors for help? Perhaps there's a spell or a potion to help you with that."

She waved it off. "No, it's fine. There's this store in Diagon Alley called Respectable Spectacles. I ordered a pair of glasses from there to help me read. I have to wait a bit longer for them to arrive though..."

"But at least you'll have an easier time." Hermione pointed out.

Esmerelda opened her mouth to reply, but an echoing voice interrupted her. "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

Hermione gasped, jumping to her feet. "We're here!"

Together, they joined the crowd outside at the hallway as the train finally slowed to a stop. People pushed their way out the door and onto a tiny, dark platform. It was nice time, which relaxed some of Esmerelda's nerves. Children of Hecate always felt better during nighttime, but it was nothing compared to children of Nyx.

Esmerelda saw a lit up lantern approaching them, being held by a literally giant man.

Holy Hera, he's tall. She thought in amazement.

"C'mon, follow me — any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!" He called out.

She, Hermione, and a bunch of other kids as young as her followed the man down a steep, narrow path. The other kids kept stumbling around, and Esmerelda was beginning to wish that night vision was a gift that everybody owned because at least ten people had stepped on her shoes.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," the man assured as they continued walking through the thicket of trees, "Jus' round this bend here."

There was a loud "Oooooh!"

The narrow path had widened, opening at the edge of a great black lake. She wondered if the students were allowed to swim in there.

But the lake wasn't what that 'oooooh' was for. It was for the majestic looking castle perched atop a high mountain.

Esmerelda's eyes widened. "Is that our school? A castle? A literal castle?" She whispered to someone.

It was Neville, and he was too busy gazing at it to reply verbally, so he nodded, speechless.

"No more'n four to a boat!" The giant man called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Esmerelda climbed aboard the first one she could reach. She was joined by two huge boys and a smaller one with platinum blonde hair and grey eyes. She would've mistaken him as a son of Athena, but his grey eyes were less striking than theirs.

"Everyone in?" The man asked, seated in his own boat. "Right then—FORWARD!"

"You think that man's full human?" The blonde boy asked his two friends, who sniggered without replying. "I think he's some sort of disgusting half-breed."

Esmerelda's mouth dropped. She had never met such a blatantly rude person (other than the Ares kids).

The boy saw her expression and rose a brow. "What are you gawking at?"

"Don't you think you're being a little mean?" She asked.

He stared at her. "What are you, five? Are you seriously defending that thing? You some sort of half-breed too?"

Yeah, half god, you little jerk. She didn't say that of course, even though she really wanted to. "No, I'm not. I just don't think you should judge him right off the back. He seems like a nice guy."

"You're disgustingly sweet," he scowled. His two friends were looking between them as if they were watching an interesting tennis match. "I bet you'd be a Hufflepuff."

"A what?"

"You don't even know about the four houses?" He laughed. "Don't tell me—are you a Mudblood?"

"Dude, I don't even know what that is."

His face fell a little. "Oh. I just realized you were an American. Whatever, if you must know, Hogwarts contains four houses which we'll be sorted in. Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor." He sneered at the last name. "Hufflepuff's the house full of pushovers like you, but Gryffindor's much worse. And a Mudblood's someone who doesn't have any witch of wizard in their family. I think they're disgraces. So, are you a Mudblood or not? It's obvious you're not a Pureblood like me."

"My parents were witch and wizard, but I don't live with them so I was Muggle-raised." She said dryly, making sure to remember the correct term Hermione had given her. "What's a Pureblood?"

He puffed his chest out proudly. "Purebloods are those who have pure witches and wizards in their family only. Their blood's not contaminated with dirty muggle blood at all."

"Really?" She snorted.

He glared at her. "What's so funny about that?"

"Oh nothing," she said innocently.

She wondered if all Purebloods acted this stuck up. She also wondered how they'd react to knowing about their true origins. They clearly didn't know their history well enough. Her mother, Hecate, had blessed a bunch of mortals with magic centuries ago. The very first witch and/or wizard hailed from muggles. There was no such thing as a 'Pureblood'.

They finally made it to land, and Esmerelda was relieved because she could no longer stand sitting a boat with those three assholes. She was the first to climb out and she made sure to create as much distance between them as she could.

"Oi, you there! Is this your toad?" The large man asked while he checked over the boats.

"Trevor!" Neville cried out. He took his toad and held him against his chest.

Everyone followed after the tall man as he clambered up a passageway in the rock, coming out onto smooth, damp grass. They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around a huge, oak door.

The man turned around and surveyed the kids. "Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"

At Neville's nod, he raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

The door swung open and a stern looking woman stood at the doorway. Esmerelda fidgeted nervously. She reminded her a lot of her old teacher, Mrs. Gibson, who liked to smack her with rulers. She was also the reason she was expelled for the second time (she had magically pushed her down the stairs without even meaning to).

She hoped this woman wasn't as mean as Mrs. Gibson.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," the man said.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." She said, nodding curtly. She pulled the door open wider and motioned for them to enter. Esmerelda marveled at the interior architecture. The ceiling was impossibly high, and the walls were lit with torches (did the school have any electricity?), and a marble staircase was facing them.

Professor McGonagall led them across the stone floor, into a small, empty chamber off the hall.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she began. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room."

The Sorting? Esmerelda thought. That's for the houses, right?

"The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rule-breaking will lose House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours."

I feel bad for whichever House I'm in. Knowing my school history, I'm probably going to lose my House all of it's points...

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting. I shall return when we are ready for you," she said. "Please wait quietly." She left the chamber.

In front of the rest of the school? She echoed, suddenly panicking. What do we even do? How do we get sorted? Oh my gods, is it like in Divergent where we have to cut open our hands and let our blood drip into one of the bowls?!

Suddenly, she heard screaming. She whirled around, about to unpin her brooch. A monster attack already?!

But it was just some ghosts. She would've been concerned, but they seemed pretty harmless. They all glided around the hall, laughing and greeting some students. Some of them were arguing with one another.

A monk dude was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance—"

"—My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost—I say, what are you all doing here?" A ghost dressed as if he had just walked out of a Shakespearian play asked.

Nobody answered.

"New students!" The Fat Friar beamed. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

Some kids nodded.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" He said kindly. "My old House, you know."

"Move along now," Professor McGonagall was back. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

The ghosts started to disappear into the walls.

"Now, form a line and follow me." Professor McGonagall instructed.

Esmerelda fell in line. Hermione was nowhere to be seen, so she was surrounded by a bunch of strangers. It was better than that blonde guy and his two friends though.

They walked through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall. She knew right away that she would enjoy eating there. The grand room was lit by thousands of floating candles (was that safe?). There were four long tables where the rest of the older students were sitting, all eyes on them. The tables were full of empty golden plates and goblets. At the front of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Esmerelda was surprised to find that there weren't a lot of them.

The first years were led to the teachers' table, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The ghosts were there too.

She looked up and saw the ceiling. It looked almost opened. She could see the shining stars just like she was back in camp. She overheard someone mumbling about the ceiling being bewitched to look like the sky. She was impressed.

Professor McGonagall placed a wooden stool at the front of the room and set an old looking wizard's hat on it. The whole room went silent. Suddenly, the hat moved, and then began to sing.

What the Styx. She thought blankly. Once the hat finished, everyone erupted into cheers. She half expected the hat to grow legs and bow. It didn't happen.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and held a piece of parchment in her hands. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A blonde girl with pigtails went forward, sat on the stool, and put on the hat.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" It shouted after several seconds.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. She saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

So THAT'S what happens! She thought, growing excited. She was a lot more eager to be sorted now that she knew she didn't have to slit her hand.

The hat called out a few more names and then Professor McGonagall called out a familiar one. "Granger, Hermione!"

The bushy haired girl ran up to the front and practically jammed the hat onto her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" It shouted.

The Sorting went on, and then Professor McGonagall called out "Malfoy, Draco!"

Oh it's him. She thought blankly, watching as the platinum blonde boy from before swaggered over to the hat as if he owned the place. The hat barely touched his head before it shouted: "SLYTHERIN!"

After a few more names, the entire hall went quiet when Professor McGonagall said "Harry Potter."

That's the famous dude. She realized.

Hermione had mentioned him defeating a famous Dark Wizard named Vol-something, so Esmerelda was expecting a buff looking boy to go up.

Harry Potter turned out to be some scrawny kid with big glasses.

Whispers broke out amongst the students.

"Potter, did she say?"

"The Harry Potter?"

Harry Potter must have been new to the fame, because his face turned scarlet with embarrassment. He looked away from everyone and put the hat on. It took a while to make a decision, but finally announced: "GRYFFINDOR!"

He received the loudest applause ever. People at the Gryffindor table were cheering and shaking his hands and everything.

Once the excitement finally died out, the Sorting continued on. They were at the T's now. Esmerelda briefly wondered when she would be called over, but then her heart jumped when she remembered something.

Professor McGonagall was calling on people in alphabetical order—through their last names.

Esmerelda didn't have one.

Did that mean she was going to go last? Or... Was her name not on the list?

No, I have to be on the list. She told herself, trying to calm her nerves.

Now it was just her and another boy left, but he—Blaise Zabini—was called up too and was sorted into Slytherin.

Professor McGonagall looked at the parchment and a bewildered expression crossed over her face, as if she had seen something that wasn't there before. Then, with a twinge of confusion, she called out, "Esmerelda?"

That's my name! She beamed, then walked towards the stool. She sat down and placed the hat over her head.

"You're the second demigod I've met," a voice said in her mind.

She instinctively looked up, eyes wide with amazement. JESUS?!

"I wish," the voice snorted. "Now as I was saying, I knew your brother, Merlin. I put him in Slytherin. Now where to put you... Definitely not Ravenclaw, you don't have their thirst of knowledge. Not Slytherin either, you're not as cunning or ambitious... Now it's just between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Which to choose, which to choose... You have much bravery, but you're not as reckless or proud... Ah, I see it now. You value loyalty. You wish for justice... And I see that you've worked very hard to be where you are now. Yes, I found the perfect place for you—HUFFLEPUFF!"

With a wide smile, Esmerelda hopped off the stool and set the hat down. She practically skipped over to the cheering house and waved at the friendly Fat Friar. She sat down between a couple of other first years who were kind enough to scoot over for her.

An old man who was seated at the center of the teacher's table stood up. "Welcome!" He greeted. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

"Who was that?" Esmerelda asked.

"Why, that's our headmaster, of course! Professor Dumbledore!" An older student answered.

"Oooh, the food's here!" Another exclaimed.

Esmerelda looked back down at the table and had to stop her mouth from watering. The plates were all filled now. She saw meats of every kind and other foods that would kill her diet.

While she wasn't much of a health freak, she knew she had to keep at tip top shape. But the food... Surely it wouldn't hurt to have a slice of pie? Or a tart or two?

She decided to have a small portion of roast beef and stacked the rest of her plate high with vegetables and grabbed a single blueberry tart.

Near the end of dinner, Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet again and cleared his throat to gain everyone's attention.

"Ahem—just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." He looked over at a pair of red headed twins. "I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Very painful death? She wondered. Did that mean there were dangerous creatures in there or something?

Oh well. She wasn't going to bother with it. The forbidden forest, however, intrigued her.

It sounded like the perfect place for a 'stroll'.

— author's note —

Come on ya'll OF COURSE Essie would be placed in Hufflepuff! She's a sweet baby, how can she not be a Hufflepuff? Besides, that house needs more love. A lot of OC (whether it be Harry Potter or HP/PJO stories) are always placed in Gryffindor or Slytherin.