Hi, again!

Well, the lovely reviews I got about the first chapter were amazing (I edited it further, fixing minor mistakes and reposted it, sorry about that…) and inspired me to start on the second chapter already!

I hope you didn't have to wait tooo long? I don't think you did. Well, if you all haven't noticed by now, I'm going by the Harry Potter books and Percy Jackson books. Because I've gotten the full collection of both recently… Anyway, if you haven't noticed, Percy is not at camp yet. That's because I want to even the timeline. I need to do Harry Potter first so when she comes back, she'll be as old (maybe a bit older) than Percy.

I hope that makes sense.



3rd P.O.V

It had been very long; two months at the Weasley family's home. Firesmia had the best months in her life. It was highly eventful. And she loved it very much.

Fred and George, whom she accidentally called Travis and Conner once, were amazing to her. They pranked her several times and she would retaliate with ones of her own. (Though she may have Iris messaged the Stolls about it once or twice to come up with ideas. They were eager to help, the Stolls were.) As they had predicted, they spent much time together. It was like she was their personal buddle of entertainment.

Percy Weasley was rather… Firesmia couldn't explain it really. Moody? No, controlling. Stuck up. Goody-goody. Several things. No wonder he's a prefect, Firesmia thought once when he had caught her trying to prank the twins and sent her off to bed, threatening to tell Mrs. Weasley if she didn't. There was no way she could forget that Percy was going to be a prefect this year. He would talk about it all the time. Constantly.

Ron was awesome. Firesmia had become good friends with him already. He taught her to play Wizard's Chess—a rather violent version of chess—over a course of days. Her ADHD didn't allow her to learn it all at once, even with the actual destroying of pieces. In response, she taught little bit of everything about the Muggle world. As a pure-blood wizard, he didn't know much. She taught little by little, randomly mentioning things that would catch his attention.

Ginny, oh sweet little Ginny, was just adorable. Firesmia felt like Ginny was a little sister to her. She constantly asked questions about Firesmia, curious to learn more things about her. And Firesmia felt horrible because some things she had to lie about because it involved with her being a demigod. She couldn't tell her just yet. Maybe in a few years Firesmia would tell her.

Mrs. Weasley was just wonderful as well. She was just as lovable as she was plump, not in an offensive way. Firesmia was happy when Mrs. Weasley treated her as if she was own child. I'm sure it felt a bit like it with Firesmia staying for so long. But she was constantly reminded that she wasn't part of the family when she saw any of the family's hair. Their fiery red hair is what snapped her out of reality. But Firesmia didn't really think Mrs. Weasley cared.

Now, Mr. Weasley was a character, Firesmia could tell from as soon as she met him. He was obsessed with Muggles (yes, the family has influenced her language a bit since she has been staying) and their objects. Of course, he would hound her with questions about being a demigod whenever he had the chance and none of the children were around. She answered them as best as she could, doing her best at trying not to laugh at the questions or his reaction to the answers she would give to him.

But the day she was waiting for finally came. September 1. Terms of Hogwarts started today and she would go to King's Cross, platform 9 ¾. (She had learned not to question much anymore about the wizarding world since living with the Weasleys.) She would get to go to the place she anticipated. Of course there were pros and cons to this.


She will see where her mother was for seven years before she was pregnant with Firesmia

She will learn magic

She will get to see Harry again

She's going to be somewhere new that was also safe for her.


She will have to leave Ginny behind until next year, if she gets her letter (which Firesmia was confident she would)

She will most likely have homework for the first time in her life

She will have to learn to cope with her dyslexia (the silent killer, as she named it)

She will most likely get into some trouble.

But, to be honest as Apollo, she didn't really care. She was yearning to go to Hogwarts. And today was the day she would. Firesmia was annoyed though—highly displeased to learn that she had to run through a wall to get to the platform from the twins. They told her on the way to King's Cross Station about it when she asked. She vaguely wondered if it was a lie but then Mrs. Weasley happily confirmed that they were telling the truth. She flinched at the thought of crashing into a wall. She would look like an idiot in front of everyone.

She was also a bit annoyed at the fact that the twins said the train was very large and was always filled with students. She was worried at that more than irritated, though. Would she ever find Harry on the train? She missed his company. She hadn't told the Weasleys about meeting Harry Potter when she was getting her supplies because she quickly learned on the second day of staying with them that Ginny had a rather large crush on Harry. Even though Ginny never met him in her life… Firesmia didn't know why but the fact that Ginny liked Harry so much aggravated her a bit and she would quickly change the topic, all the while, gloating in her head that she knew Harry and was his friend.

Hypatios hooted from the back of the car, making Firesmia turn around to look at him. She leaned forward to look at Mrs. Weasley, "Um, Mrs. Weasley, can Hypatios be let out so he can stretch his wings for a bit?" She inquired.

Mrs. Weasley nodded. "Of course, dear," She then glanced back, waving her wand so the cage unlocked. Hypatios hooted appreciatively and flew out the window that Firesmia scrolled down after nipping her ear affectionately. Firesmia looked outside the window, watching as he soared in the air above them, not going ahead or falling behind. "Thank you." Firesmia responded to Mrs. Weasleys action.

Firesmia was quite happy when she realized that they arrived to King's Cross Station sooner than expected. Hypatios came back, perched himself on her shoulder, gently hopping further and further down her arm until he got into the cage. She shut and locked it. She put on top of her trunk, securely strapped it down and followed the family into the train station. She followed the Weasleys closely, not wanting to get lost. She glanced up at the walls that passed by. I, 2, 3… Oh, a bathroom! Firesmia realized she actually needed to go the restroom at that moment. And she did not want to go on a train, how awkward.

Firesmia looked at Mrs. Weasley and gestured to the bathroom. "Er, may I…?"

Mrs. Weasley looked at before understanding filled her eyes. "Oh, darling, is your time?" She asked. She ushered Firesmia to the bathroom, getting her trunk and owl. "You can meet us at the platform; I'll take your stuff. Just hurry up now." She smiled at her kindly. "Don't forget to check." She rushed off, leading her family.

Firesmia stumbled inside the girls' bathroom, a bit confused. "Check what?" She asked herself, walking into a stall and closing the door behind her.

The question continued to stay in her mind, even when she was washing her hands. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, absentmindedly straightening her hair and clothing. "What did she mean 'my time'?" She mused out loud. Then realization dawned on her. "Oh, gods, she didn't think… Oh, gods!" She shivered in disgust. It was certainly not that time. And, for her sake, she hoped it wouldn't be her 'time' for a very long time.

She arrived at the pillars, dividing platforms 9 and 10 just after Ron went through the barrier. She glanced at Mrs. Weasley, who looked at her, "Are you good now, dear?" She asked.

Firesmia looked at her uncomfortably but nodding hesitantly, taking her cart from Mrs. Weasley.

Mrs. Weasley patted her shoulder. "Don't worry, dear, I know how horrid those little things can be." She sympathized.

Firesmia looked even more embarrassed at the statement. She moved her cart and broke out in a sprint, running through the barrier—highly thankful she didn't crash—but more than eager to get away from that conversation. She attempted to wave goodbye at Mrs. Weasley and board the train, but Mrs. Weasley would have none of it. She engulfed the poor girl into a suffocating hug, soon replaced by Ginny. Then, after a few deep breaths, she got on the train, looking around.

What was the luck she would find Harry? Very slim; there was so many people she could already see just in the aisle. Then, much to her relief, she saw the twins, standing a bit in front of a compartment door. She jogged up to them just in time to here, "Listen, we're going down the middle of the train—Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there."

"Right," she heard Ron reply.

"Harry," Fred addressed, making Firesmia perk up, looking at them stunned. "Did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later, then."

"Bye," Two voiced chorused as reply.

Firesmia replaced their spot in the door and she felt excitement swell within her as her eyes landed on Harry. "Harry!" She smiled widely, pulling her trunk just enough so it wasn't in the aisle anymore before letting go and throwing her arms around his neck. "You never wrote me!" She huffed, continuing to hug the poor boy senseless.

She could feel Harry tense in surprise at the hug before awkwardly returning, his face hot. He knew she was here—he had seen her with Ron's mother and the other family but he still felt surprised at seeing her so soon. But he would be lying if he said he hadn't missed her over the past months. It was strange; he seemed so content in her presence. It was nice. So, after a few seconds, he hugged her back. "Sorry, Dursleys…" He muttered to her.

She nodded and pulled away, looking at her trunk then the railing above them where the trunks were supposed to be stored. "Oh no." She groaned. With Ron's, Harry's and her effort, they managed to get her trunk on the railing. "It will be fun getting it down." She muttered, sitting next to Harry.

It was quiet for a while, a bit of an awkward silence.

Until Ron decided so deliberately break it. "Are you really Harry Potter?" He blurted out, making Firesmia choke back a laugh.

Harry nodded.

"Oh—well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George's jokes," Ron explained hastily, making Firesmia sigh softly at him. "And have you really got—you know…" He trailed off, pointing to Harry's forehead.

Harry realized what he meant and pulled back his bangs to show him the lighting scar that was present.

Ron stared, rather obviously. "So that's where You-Know-Who—?"

"Yes," Harry interrupted, "but I can't remember it."

"Nothing?" Ron said, rather eagerly, making Firesmia raise an eyebrow in question. Did Ron want him to remember seeing his parents die?

"Well—I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else." Harry relented.

"Wow," Ron breathed. He leaned back and stared at Harry for a few moments.

Firesmia rolled her eyes at his obviousness and looked at Harry. "So, Potter, did you miss me?" She smiled cheekily at him.

Harry raised an eyebrow at her. "Since when did you start calling me 'Potter'?" He was avoiding the question a bit.

Ron looked at them in shock, just realizing that they knew each other, he had forgotten all about the hug attack that had happened when she first got into the compartment. "Wait, since when do you two know each other?" He blurted out.

Firesmia tilted her head innocently at him. "Oh, I didn't tell you? I met him when I was supplies shopping." She said casually.

"Blimey, you knew Harry Potter and you didn't tell any of us?" Ron wasn't hurt at all, just very astonished.

Firesmia seemed amused with his reaction. "What?" She grinned. "I wanted it to be a surprise!"

Harry decided to change the subject, seeing as the current conversational topic wasn't going much of anywhere. Harry turned to Ron. "Are all your family wizards?" Harry found Ron a bit interesting, maybe as interesting as Ron found him.

"Er—yes, I think so," Ron said, a bit confused, cut off guard at the question. "I think Mom's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

"So you must know loads of magic already." It wasn't a question, Firesmia noticed.

The Weasleys, as Firesmia was already aware of, was a pure-blood family tracing back generations. But it never really occurred to her they were one of the families that pale boy from the robe shop was referring too.

"I heard you went to live with Muggles," Ron leaned forward, interested further. "What are they like?"

"Horrible—" Firesmia shot Harry a sharp look and he quickly added, "Well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though. Wish I'd had three wizard brothers."

"Five," Ron corrected, slumping in his seat. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left—Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand and Percy's old rat." Ron pulled out his pet rat, making Firesmia stifle a laugh at the sleeping creature. She still remembered when Hypatios tried to kill it like it was a mouse. "His name's Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy's got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn't aff—I mean, I got Scabbers instead." Ron's ears went pink. Firesmia sighed softly. She knew the Weasleys had financial trouble and Ron seemed rather embarrassed by it. It was horrible.

Firesmia's face, however, broke out in a smile when Harry told him all about the Dursleys and how they treated him, to cheer up Ron. She wasn't smiling because of the way the Dursleys treated, gods no. She was happy that Harry wanted Ron not so depressed. She knew they would be great friends. She learned more about Harry, too, making her a bit more chipper than before. She was stroking Hypatios' feathers when she tuned back into the conversation, "… and until Hagrid told me, I didn't know anything about being a wizard or about my parents or Voldemort—"

Ron gasped.

"What?" Firesmia looked at him strangely.

"You said You-Know-Who's name!" Ron was in pure disbelief but she knew that he was a bit impressed at Harry. "I'd thought you, of all people—"

"I'm not trying to be brave or anything, saying the name," Harry's cheeks tinted a light pink. "I just never knew you shouldn't. See what I mean? I've got loads to learn… I bet," He paused and he glanced at Firesmia shyly. "I bet I'm the worst in the class."

"You won't be." Ron immediately said. "There's loads of people who come from Muggle families and they learn quick enough."

Firesmia bumped her shoulder against Harry's softly. "And even if you are the worst, which there's no chance of happening, you'll still the best person that I know, Harry. Face it, even if you suck at magic—which I repeat: won't happen—you'll be the best to me." She beamed at him.

Harry's ears turned red.

Ron and Harry kept talking and Firesmia sat quietly, tapping on her leg absentmindedly. She couldn't focus on a conversation much, for they were simply getting to know each other. Stuff she already knew and she didn't want to be asked many questions and change the answers—she had forgotten the ones she told Ginny already—that were about certain aspects of her life. It wouldn't be wise to be caught in a life about her life before Hogwarts.

Before she had realized it, it had been an hour and a half after they left the train station. There was clinging, several of it and Firesmia glanced at the door when a smiling, dimpled woman appeared, sliding back the door. She continued to smile and said, "Anything of the cart, dears?"

Firesmia blinked Harry, who leapt to his feet and she muttered under her breath, loosing her pillow. About an hour ago, she had leaned her head on his shoulder, feeling tired. She had no sleep the previous night for she was fat too excited to sleep. And it was catching up to her, sadly. She looked up at him and handed him some Sickles. "Get me something sweet, will you?" She muttered, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

Harry nodded and went out into corridor. His eyes flickered to the cart and he saw many, many strange things. What the woman had on her cart were Bertie Bott's Ever Flavor Beans, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands, and a number of other strange things. So, in response, he grabbed a number of every thing, not wanting to miss anything, and paid the woman thirteen sliver Sickles and eight bronze Kunts.

Ron stared at Harry, watching when he dumped everything near Firesmia, who blinked at it numbly. "Hungry, are you?"

"Starving," Harry replied, taking a rather large bite out of the pumpkin pasty he picked up.

Firesmia looked at Harry then at the sweets then back at Harry. "What in the world, Harry? Do you honestly think I eat that much?" She laughed a bit, picking up a Cauldron Cake, inspecting it carefully. She took a tentative bite on the corner before humming happily, eating more of it.

Ron had taken out a lumpy package and unwrapped it while Firesmia had been doing so. There were four sandwiches inside of it. He pulled one of them apart and said, "She always forgets I don't like corned beef."

Harry picked up another pasty. "Swap you for one of these." He offered. "Go on—"

"You don't want this, it's all dry." Ron mumbled. "She hasn't got much time," Ron added rather quick, making Firesmia nod in agreement to his statement. Mrs. Weasley was always rather busy. "You know, with the five of us. Well, six for the past two months." He nodded to Firesmia.

Harry glanced at her. "What?"

She bit her lip. "I was supposed to stay with Ron's family until school started since, you know, I'm from America and it would have been a waste to go back only to go through so much trouble to come back in two months." She explained rather fast, coming up with things on the top of her head. Hopefully, she thought desperately, that matches what I told Ginny when she asked why I was staying.

"Go on, have a pasty," Harry suggested, happy to share with another person other than Firesmia. Firesmia leaned over and plucked a piece of the pasty Harry was eating, popping it into her mouth before he could protest. It was a nice feeling, Harry realized, sharing with Ron and Firesmia.

Harry picked up a box of Chocolate Frogs. "What are these?" He inquired.

Firesmia glanced at the title, her face starting to drain of color. "Oh, gods, they're not really frogs, are they?"

Harry felt as if nothing would surprise him anymore. Firesmia did not feel the same.

"No," Ron waved her off. "But see what the card is. I'm missing Agrippa."

"What?" Firesmia and Harry asked.

"Oh, of course, you two wouldn't know—Chocolate Frogs have cards inside them, you know, to collect—famous witches and wizards. I've got about five hundred, but I haven't got Agrippa or Ptolemy."

Harry undid his Chocolate Frog and plucked the card out of the box. Firesmia leaned closer to peek over his shoulder. It showed a man's face. He wore half-moon glasses, had a long, crooked nose, and flowing silver hair, beard and a mustache. Underneath the picture was the name: Albus Dumbledore.

"So this is Dumbledore!" Harry exclaimed.

"Don't tell me you'd never heard of Dumbledore!" Ron gaped at him for a few seconds. "Can I have a frog? I might get Agrippa—thanks—"

Harry turned over his card to read what it said. Firesmia didn't even bother trying to read it; she didn't feel in the mood for a headache at that moment. So, after a minute or so, Harry turned it back over. Firesmia, chewing on her own chocolate frog, leaned over to look at Dumbledore once again. But he wasn't there.

"Where did he go?" She wondered.

"He's gone." Harry muttered.

"Well, you honestly can't expect him to hang around all day." Ron explained a bit exasperated with the two of them. "He'll be back. No, I've Morgana again and I've got about six of her… do either of you want it? You can start collecting."

"You make it sound like that's appealing." Firesmia responded dryly. Collecting was not her thing.

Ron ignored her comment; he was used to her side comments by now. His eyes strayed over the pile of unwrapped sweets, especially Chocolate Frogs.

Harry noticed his actions. "Help yourself," Harry smiled a bit. "But in, you know, the Muggle world, people just put in the photos."

"Do they?" Ron looked at him funny. "What, they don't move at all?" Ron's facial expression turned to amazement, making Firesmia shake her head fondly at him. "Weird!"

Harry, on the other hand, started to open several more chocolate frogs, just to look at the cards while Ron would eat some that Harry didn't eat. Except the one that started to jump around the compartment, landing on Firesmia's head, making her squeak and throw it at Ron. Ron yelped before catching the frog, putting it in an empty box to keep it still. "For later," Ron promised. While that was going on, Harry had been starting at the eight more cards he gained (Firesmia had given the one she gotten for she didn't want it), seeing them smile up at him. Firesmia picked up a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans curiously, catching both of the boys' attentions.

"You want to be careful with those," Ron warned Firesmia as she studied them. "When they say every flavor, they mean every flavor—you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint and marmalade, but then you can get spinach and liver and tripe. George reckons he had a boogie-flavored one once." Just to prove his point, he picked out a green one, and nibbled on the corner. His face turned to disgust. "Bleaargh—see? Sprouts."

Firesmia grinned. "Cool!" She pulled out a clouded blue on and popped it in her mouth whole. Her face turned thoughtful. "Is this salt-water?" She chewed it considerately. "I think it's salt-water. Interesting."

Harry pulled out a golden brown one and bit off half of it. "Toast." He said after eating the rest.

And so they went, they passed around the box, trying several others and sometimes refusing to eat them. Ron refused a funny gray one, Harry said it was pepper and Harry and Ron refused to eat one that was white with speckled black stuff around. It turned out to be white gravy, Firesmia informed them. When it wasn't her turn or she simply stopped playing the random bean eating game, she turned her attention the passing country side outside the window, once again leaning her head on his shoulder. Harry didn't mind.

Then a knock on the door alerted them all. It was boy their age and he had tears in his eyes. "Sorry," He muttered. "But have you seen a toad at all?"

When they all shook their heads, the boy wailed wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

"He'll turn up," Harry comforted awkwardly.

"Yes," The boy said miserably, wiping is eyes. "Well, if you see him…" He trailed off, knowing they would understand, and left the door, closing it back.

"Don't know why he's so bothered," Ron muttered, shaking his head. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers so I can't talk." The said rodent was still snoozing on Ron, making Firesmia shake her head in disgust. She didn't really like that rat; it tried to bite her once. "He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference," Ron seemed to be just as irritated as she was. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look…" He turned to his trunk, looked around it before pulling out a very old wand that was his brothers. It was chipped in places and something white was glinting at the end. Ron fingered it thoughtfully. "Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway—"

The door slid open once again, making Firesmia groan quietly, annoyed. She had just shut her eyes again. She wanted sleep. Was that too much to ask? Apparently the Fates seemed to think so. She glanced up to see the toad-less boy again and next to him was a girl with brown, bushy hair like a lions' mane and bit of large teeth. She already wore her robes for Hogwarts.

"Has anyone seen a told? Neville's lost one." She asked. Her voice held one of superiority, just almost exactly like the one Annabeth used with her often. It was one that held great knowledge.

"We've already told him we haven't seen it." Ron replied, looking faintly annoyed at the girl.

The girl didn't listen; instead she was looking at his battered wand that was raised above his head. "Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then." She sat down next to Firesmia, making Firesmia raise her head, sighing and rubbing her eyes.

Ron looked taken back at that, but nevertheless stuttered out, "Er—all right." He cleared his throat and pointed it at Scabbers,

"Sunshine, daises, butter mellow,

Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."

Nothing happened, just like it didn't last time, Firesmia remembered. She supposed she forgot to tell him that George just made it up to mess with Ron. Oops, she thought carelessly, my bad.

The girl was clearly not impressed. "Are you sure that's a real spell?" She straightened her back. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course. I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard—I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough—I'm Hermione Granger, by the way. Who are you?" Firesmia blinked. She didn't think anyone but Annabeth could talk that fast.

Harry glanced at Firesmia and Ron, relieved to notice none of them have learned their course books by heart either.

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron muttered.

Firesmia rubbed the crust off her eyelashes, craving sleep still. "I'm Firesmia Pronts,"

"Harry Potter," Harry introduced last.

Hermione looked excited about that. "Are you really?" She asked. "I know all about you, of course—I got a few extra books for background reading and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."

"Am I?" Harry looked dazed at her, making Firesmia stifle a snort.

"Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me," Hermione looked at him, like it should been obvious for him to do research on himself. "Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad… Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You three had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon." Then she got up and left, Neville following after her.

"Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it," Ron said, tossing his want back in his trunk.

"Ron." Firesmia's voice held a warning, as if daring him to insult the girl again.

Ron quickly changed the subject. "Stupid spell—George gave it to me, but he knew it was a dud."

"What house are your brothers in?" Harry asked, curious.

"Gryffindor," Ron replied, getting gloomy once again. "Mom and Dad were in it, too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin."

"Isn't that the house Vol-, er, sorry, You-Know-Who was in?" Firesmia looked at Harry and Ron.

"Yeah," Ron answered, flopping back into his seat, looking depressed once again.

"You know, I think the ends of Scabbers' whiskers are a bit lighter." Harry obviously wanted to cheer Ron up.

Firesmia smiled at his actions; she was glad Harry and Ron were becoming great friends. However, she decided thought it was time she intervened in this conversation and steer it in the right direction. "So, Ron, what do your older, older brothers for a living now a days again?"

Harry nodded eagerly, wishing to know as well. "Yeah, I was wondering about what a wizard—or a witch—" he added that hastily, seeing Firesmia's sharp glare directed towards him. "—do when they finished school."

"Charlie's in Romania studying dragons, and Bill's in Africa doing something for Gringotts," Ron informed. "Did you hear about Gringotts? It's been all over the Daily Prophet, but I don't suppose you get with the Muggles—someone tried to rob a high security vault."

Harry stared at him, stunned at the news. Firesmia, much to her dismay, was having the same reaction. Why, for the gods' sakes, would some rob that bank? What could be so valuable to risk their life over? Harry proved that he was the only able to speak, for he exclaimed, "Really? What happened to them?"

"Nothing, that's why it's such big news." Ron confirmed, making Firesmia even more astonished. "They haven't been caught. My dad says it must've been a powerful Dark wizard to get round Gringotts but they don't think they took anything, that's what's odd. 'Course, everyone gets scared when something like this happens in case You-Know-Who's behind it."

Firesmia leaned back in her seat thoughtfully; she did not like the consent bad stories she heard about Voldemort. It was making her fidgety, anxious and a bit, even though she wouldn't admit for a bit, fearful. No, she tried to correct herself, it's not fear. It was worry.

"What's your Quidditch team?" Ron said randomly. Firesmia was thankful for the change of subject once again but was a bit irritated at the question. Ron, like the rest of his family (excluding a few), was just obsessed with Quidditch. She was rather fond of it herself; she got to use an old broom and Fred and George taught her the basic rules and how to play. They even said she should try out for the team, whatever her house was, in her second year. ("You'd make a deadly chaser." They had commented.)

"Er—I don't know any," Harry confessed, making Firesmia pat his shoulder sympathetically.

"What!" Ron looked dumfounded. "Neither did Firesmia; we had to show her so much! Oh, you wait Harry, it's the best game in the world—" And he was off, explaining all about the four balls and the positions of the seven players. Firesmia chimed in every once in a while, explaining it better (a bit less complex, meaning) than Ron so Harry could understand it better. Ron then continued on, describing famous games that he'd seen and the broomstick that he dreamt of having for the longest time. Firesmia had just been explaining the more detailed points and fouls of Quidditch when the compartment door slid open once again, interrupting her.

Three boys entered and Firesmia vaguely remembered the pale, blonde one from the robe store. Rage built in her chest, remembering what the Weasleys had told her all about the boy's family (at least, they assumed it was since neither Firesmia nor Harry got his name). However, this time, he was looking at Harry and way more interested in him than he was before.

"Is it true?" He questioned. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes," Harry agreed. Firesmia analyzed the other two boys that were present on both sides of the boy. They were thick like they constantly ate too much and most likely held a permanent mean look. Firesmia wondered who knocked them around for fun to give them such mean looks. Or maybe they took evil steroids.

The boy noticed Firesmia's gaze. "Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," He introduced, not really caring. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Ron sniggered, hiding it (not to well) with a cough. Malfoy looked at him, and sneered, "Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford." Firesmia was clenching her fist at her side, pushing herself to stand, sending a sharp glare. Malfoy addressed Harry once again, "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." He offered his hand to Harry.

Harry didn't take, much less acknowledge it. "I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks." Harry replied coolly.

Malfoy's cheeks went a pale pink. "I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," He spoke slowly, as if talking to a toddler. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you."

Both Harry and Ron were up on their feet at that, furious. They stood on either side of Firesmia, who was clenching her shaking fists. They were heating up in temperature and if she got anymore angry, she was sure she would have a small spark of fire. (She hadn't exactly controlled her power of fire, it connected with her emotions and she hadn't exactly mastered the anger portion of fire bursts.) "Say that again," Ron spoke through gritted teeth, his face red as his hair.

Malfoy ignored him and turned to Firesmia, offering his hand, "What about you, Pronts?"

Firesmia reached out, much to Harry's and Ron's disbelief. But, with a sharp sound, she knocked his hand aside—hoping she burned him a bit—and snapped, "I know better to be associating myself with a filthy sort as you Malfoys." Harry and Ron was a bit relieved, not that they showed that at the moment. They were too angry.

Malfoy turned red at her statement and noticed her shaking fists. "Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?" Malfoy ridiculed.

"Unless you get out now," Harry cut in, more brave than he felt, because Crabbe and Goyle were a lot bigger than him, Firesmia or Ron. But, he was a bit comforted by the fact it would be three-on-three.

"But we don't feel like leaving, do we, boys?" Malfoy mocked. "We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some."

Goyle reached toward Firesmia's stash of Chocolate Frogs (which was next to Ron because she wanted room to sleep)—Firesmia leapt forward before Ron or Harry could stop her, her arm pulled back to punch him but before Firesmia could land a solid right hook on Goyle, he let a horrible yell. Scabbers the rat was hanging off his finger, sharp little teeth sunk deep into Goyle's knuckles—Crabbe and Malfoy backed away as Goyle swung Scabbers round and round, howling, and when Scabbers finally flew off and hit the window, all three of them disappeared at once. Firesmia scoffed at their cowardliness.

Then, Hermione Granger was back, looking around in astonishment. "What has been going on?" She demanded.

Ron picked up Scabbers by his tail. "I think he's been knocked out." He told them. He looked a bit closer to him. "No—I don't believe it—he's gone back to sleep." And so he had.

Firesmia poked the sleeping rat. "You know, despite his laziness, he earned respect from me when he protected my stash of sweets." She mused, pulling her finger away to go back to her seat.

"So, you've both met Malfoy before?"

Harry had taken it upon himself to explain their meeting in Diagon Alley.

"I've heard of his family," Ron's voice was dark, almost as his father's when he explained the Malfoy family to Firesmia. "They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side." He turned to Hermione, who was still there, standing there quietly and observing. "Can we help you with something?"

"You'd better hurry up and put your robes on, I've just been up to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there. You haven't been fighting, have you? You'll be in trouble before we even get there!" She replied ferociously.

Firesmia gestured to the sleeping rat. "Scabbers has been fighting, not us." She corrected.

Ron scowled at her. "Would you mind leaving while we change?"

"All right—I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors." Hermione sniffed. "Firesmia, would you like me to show you to the restrooms so you can change there?" She asked.

Firesmia looked at her oddly, already going through her trunk to get her robes. "Why? All I'm literally doing is taking off my jacket to put on robe afterwards, why do I need to leave to do that?" She honestly had no clue. She's changed in front of other boys before—her brothers at camp. Even Luke once, sort of. He walked in on her changing her shirt after sword practice; it was embarrassing sure, but it wasn't like Firesmia had anything to show off so she got over it quickly.

Hermione returned the look before shaking her head and looking at Ron, gesturing to his nose. "You've got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?"

Ron glared at her as she left. Harry, wondering if what Hermione said was true, peered out the compartment window. It was getting dark so he figured they were in fact almost there. Firesmia glanced out there, after pulling off her pull-over and slipping on her robe. She replaced Harry's place at looking out the window. She could see mountains and forests under a dark sky. The train did seem to seem slowing down a bit.

Firesmia politely kept watching out the window as Harry and Ron pulled off their jackets and pulled on her their long black robes that matched Firesmia's. Ron's were a bit short for him though for his sneakers were peaking out form the bottom. Neither Firesmia nor Harry mentioned it.

A voice echoed throughout the train, alerting them: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

Firesmia looked at her trunk, biting her lip. She was sure no one would look through it… She also knew would they put it in the right dormitory. She was glad she got the top engraved: "F. R. Pronts.". It was a rather smart decision.

Harry's stomach lurched with nerves and Ron, he saw, looked pale under his freckles. He glanced at Firesmia who was playing with her charm bracelet once again and he knew that she was nervous as well. They all crammed their pockets with the remainder of the sweets and Harry and Ron joined the crowd that was in the corridor. Firesmia didn't join them immediately for she stroked Hypatios' feathers affectionately, smiling a bit before walking out of the compartment to join them.

Soon enough, the train stopped and Firesmia was being shoved with people pushing their way to the door and out on to a tiny, dark platform. Sadly, Firesmia got shoved again and she fell, smacking the cold ground. Harry and Ron quickly helped her up while she muttered curses in Ancient Greek under her breath, brushing herself off. "Thanks." She muttered to them, smiling sheepishly. She crossed her arms, feeling cold. Then she noticed a bobbing lamp over the sea of students and thee was a shout that sounded astonishingly familiar: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Firesmia, you took a tumble, didn't yeh? What about yeh, Harry?" Hagrid beamed at them behind his hairy face.

"C'mon," He ushered all the first years, including Firesmia, Harry and Ron. "Follow me—any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

And so they all did, slipping and stumbling over each other. Hagrid led them all down a narrow, steep path that was dark. Nobody spoke much for nerves were engulfing them all. Neville, the toad-less boy, sniffed a bit.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called to the herd of students over his large shoulder. "Jus' round this bend here."

Then, there a synchronized: "Oooooh!" of pure amazement.

The narrow path had expanded greatly into a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side was a beautifully lit caste with sparkling windows. Oh, what Annabeth would kill to get the plans for that, Firesmia thought in pure wonder, staring up at the castle. That was to be her new home outside of Camp Half-Blood. And she loved it already.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid broke Firesmia's absorption of the castle. She snapped her head towards Hagrid, who was pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Firesmia, Harry and Ron were followed by Neville as they climbed into a little boat with a lamp hanging.

"Everyone in?" Hagrid shouted, looking over everyone, who was in a boat by himself. "Right then—FORWARD!"

Then the boats lurched forward, making Firesmia squeak and grab onto the side and the back of Harry's robe. She ducked her head, looking at the water fearfully. Lord Poseidon, she prayed frantically her eyes squeezing shut, do not let me fall out of the boat. Please, please…

She heard no noise other the water moving beneath them so she assumed every one was still staring at the castle. "Heads down!" Hagrid yelled. Firesmia peeked up only to see the boats heading to a cliff. She let go of the boat and made two fists in the back of Harry's robes, who glanced back at her curiously before bended his head with the rest of them. They all went through a current of ivy, making Firesmia flinch before going through a dark tunnel. Then, they reached an underground harbor where they all scrambled onto the rocks, Firesmia quicker than all the others, thankful to be out of the boats.

"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" Hagrid held out a toad, checking to make sure everyone got out safely.

"Trevor!" Neville cried happily, grabbing his toad from him happily.

They followed Hagrid up a flight of white stone steps and they all crowded around a rather large, oak front door. Hagrid glanced behind him. "Everyone here?" People murmured their agreements. "You there, still got yer toad?" Neville nodded sheepishly. Then, Hagrid raised his fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

There was a moment of silence.

Then the door swung open, revealing a tall, black-haired that wore emerald-green robes. She had a very stern look in her eye, almost like Chiron and Annabeth combined Firesmia compared and she knew if she was in trouble, she didn't want this woman dishing out the punishment.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall." Hagrid reported, gesturing the heard of students behind him.

"Thank you, Hagrid." Professor McGonagall, the deputy headmistress Firesmia realized, said. "I will take them from here." She pulled the door open all way and Firesmia immediately noticed how large the entrance hall was. They could fit three of the Hephaestus cabin in it or maybe the even Bunker 9. (She never told any of her siblings that she ever found it.) Firesmia closed her eyes, fully relaxed when she saw the lit torches that lit up the room. The ceiling was much to high for her to imagine and another marble staircase would led them higher to new floors.

The heard of students eagerly, yet timidly, followed Professor McGonagall through the hall. Firesmia inclined her head to the side, hearing several hundred distinct voices as once; she assumed the rest of the returning students were already in the school. Then Professor McGonagall stopped at an empty camber off the hall. The students, some shoving to huddle closer, crowded around her and the steps.

Professor McGonagall scanned the crowd. "Welcome to Hogwarts." She announced, her voice echoing off the walls. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be stored 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 common room." Firesmia blinked, realizing not once did this woman's expression change as she spoke. "The fours 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, you 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." Firesmia smiled a bit; a little competition is fun. "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." Professor McGonagall's eyes lingered on Neville and Ron.

Firesmia glanced down at her self, straightening her robe and dusting off any dirt she missed when she fell. Harry tried to flatten his hair nervously. Tried, at least.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," Professor McGonagall said. "Please wait quietly." And then she left.

The herd broke out into quiet chatter, nervously asking each other if they could help with other appearances. Firesmia gently slapped Harry's hand away from his head, shaking her hand and trying to flatten it herself. She got a bit down but she knew it wouldn't stay like that for too long. It was stubborn, Harry's hair was. Harry swallowed nervously, offered her a weak smile as a thanks before asking Ron, "How exactly do they sort us into houses?"

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joiking." Ron muttered.

Firesmia felt her stomach twist. A test? She couldn't take tests. She would surely fail for she wouldn't be able to read the questions. Then she thought about what Ron said. 'it hurts a lot' Paper (or parchment, in this case) doesn't hurt unless you get a cut from it. Was it a physical type of test, surely she would be better at that than anything else. Then another thought occurred to her, if it was a physical test, why would McGonagall want them to make sure all of the first years were presentable in appearance? It made no sense. She gave up on her theories.

Behind her, Hermione was whispering very excitedly about all the spells she already had learned and was wondering which one she would have to use. Firesmia shook her head at her before glancing at Harry to see him very pale, more than Ron was at that moment. He looked so anxious; it almost made nerves swell in Firesmia as well. She wanted to do something, to make him calmer but she didn't have a clue what to say.

Then several people screamed, making Firesmia jump and grab her ring, ready to bring out Sniper. She turned around, tense but went jaw-slacked and stared. Harry gasped beside her after jumping about a foot in the air. There was a total of about twenty ghosts had just streamed through the wall behind them. They all had pearly-white—slightly transparent—appearances as they glided through the air, talking to each other, not even noticing the batch of frightened first years. Firesmia was flabbergasted to notice that they were arguing, off all things. Firesmia relaxed, releasing her grip on her ring casually before anyone, especially Harry, noticed. The fat little monk one 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?" The ghost that had been talking noticed the students, finally. He wore wearing a ruff and tights, making Firesmia look at him, a bit disturbed. Out of fashion, the Aphrodite campers would be horrified.

Nobody answered; no one even made a gesture for an answer.

"New students!" Fat Friar smiled at them all. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?" A few students, including Firesmia, gathered enough courage to nod at them. Friar seemed even more delighted at that. "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house, you know."

"Move along now," Professor McGonagall's sharp voice cut in. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start." The ghosts left, some still watching as they disappeared through the opposite wall they came out of. When everyone faced her again, Professor McGonagall ordered: "Now, form a line and follow me."

They did so, some still playing and trying to fix their appearances, including Firesmia. She didn't understand why; she wasn't one to care for physical appearances at all but something about going in front of teachers that knew about her demigod blood and about hundred students that been in her shoes made her nervous. Firesmia slipped in the line behind Harry, Ron behind her. They all followed Professor McGonagall out of the chamber, back across the hall and through a pair of double doors into what Firesmia realized was the Great Hall.

As soon as Firesmia walked in, she understood why it was named the Great Hall. It was just remarkable, lit by thousands and thousands of candles (making some of her nerves disappear, being near her element). There were four long tables where the rest of the students attending Hogwarts sat at. All of the tables had hundreds of sets of golden plates, silverware and goblets to drink out of. What Firesmia noticed was that they were walking to the top of the hall was another long stretch table was placed where the school teachers were. She flinched, chewing on her lip nervously. Professor McGonagall led them up to stand in front of the students, professors behind them. Harry looked up and Firesmia, curiously, followed his action. The ceiling was something beautiful, Firesmia couldn't help but stare. It was pure black with thousands of stars up on it. Firesmia, along with Harry, both heard Hermione whisper, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about in Hogwarts: A History."

Firesmia snapped out of her trance reluctantly when Professor placed a stool in front of them all and then placed a pointed hat on top of it. It was certainly old, frayed and surprisingly very dirty. Firesmia stared, as did the rest of the first years. Then the hat twitched, making her eyes widen a fracture. Then a rip near the brim opened very wide—and much to Firesmia's bewilderment—it began to sing:

"Oh, you may think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see.

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

If you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The whole hall burst into applause and Firesmia joined in a bit; she was so impressed that a hat could sing so well. The hat bowed to each of the tables and then became quiet and still.

"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered to Firesmia and Harry. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."

Harry smiled weakly in response and Firesmia wrapped her fingers gently around his forearm, squeezing it gently as if saying, you'll be fine. She was uneasy though herself. There was two lines that the hat and sung that worried her: "There's nothing hidden in your head, The Sorting Hat can't see." It would be able to tell she is herself. Would it say it out loud? She twisted her bracelet uncertainly at the thought.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward, holding a long roll 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 informed then looked at the scroll. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails got of line, tripping over her robes, and put on the hat. It sunk down over her eyes as she sat down. There was a moment's pause—

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The hat bellowed to the Great Hall.

The table on the right cheered, clapping frantically as Hannah sat down at the Hufflepuff table. Harry noticed the ghost of Friar waving merrily at her.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The hat shouted once again. Susan scrambled after Hannah, sitting next to her.

"Boot, Terry!"


The table second from the left burst into cheers at the hat's decision. Firesmia raised an eyebrow when several of the Ravenclaw stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" also went to Ravenclaw. "Brown, Lavender" was the first new Gryffindor however and the table on the far left exploded with clapping, cat-calling (courtesy from the Weasley twins, Firesmia noticed) and cheering.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became the first Slytherin of this sorting. Firesmia observed them quietly, noticing that a feeling of uneasiness washed over her as she looked at the Slytherin table. Harry looked sick then. Firesmia wasn't feeling to good herself and her twisting and tugging at her bracelet became more frantic the closer it got to her name.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"


Harry then noticed that sometimes the hat took longer to sort some others. "Finnigan, Seamus" the sandy haired boy that Harry was behind of in line took about a minute to sort. Seamus ended up in Gryffindor.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione eagerly fast-walked up to the stool and jammed the hat onto her bushy head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" The hat shouted. Ron groaned in response and Firesmia elbowed him slightly.

While Firesmia was still playing with her bracelet and ring (she had started playing with it) and watching as Neville Longbottom (the toad boy) get sorted, Harry was thinking of several bad thoughts. Such as that the hat wouldn't be able to decide a house for him and McGonagall telling him there was a mistake and he would have to go home.

"GRYFFINDOR!" The hat decided and Neville ran off with it on, it exclaiming in protest. Then he had to run back, most likely trying to ignore the laughter spread throughout the hall, to give it to "MacDougal, Morag."

Malfoy, Firesmia sent a sharp glare to him when he passed her, swaggered to the stool when his name was called. The hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"

Malfoy went to join the Slytherin table, all the while looking rather pleased with himself.

"Moon"… "Nott"… "Parkinson"… then a pair of twins: "Patil" and "Patil"…, then "Perks, Sally-Anne" and then, at last—

"Potter, Harry!"

Firesmia gave his forearm a comforting squeeze as he stepped forward, going to the hat hesitantly. Whispering broke out all over the hall.

"Potter, did she say?"

"The Harry Potter?"

Firesmia's lips almost twitched up in a smirk when she noticed all the people craning to look at him. The hat fell over his eyes and Firesmia almost felt sad at that. She liked his eyes.

The hat twitched around on top of Harry's head and suddenly Harry gripped the edge of the stool so hard his knuckles turned white. Firesmia twisted her bracelet even more nervously, a suffocating feel swelling in her chest. Before she could feel like she was going to faint the hat screamed, "GRYFFINDOR!" Harry took of the hat, placed it down on the stool and walked shakily to the Gryffindor table. Prefects got up to shake his hand vigorously and the Weasley twins shouted to the whole Great Hall, "We got Potter! We got Potter!" Harry could see the High Table properly now. Hagrid gave him the thumbs up, which Harry grinned back at and then he saw Albus Dumbledore as well, sitting in a chair. He also recognized Professor Quirrell; the man he and Firesmia met at the Leaky Cauldron.

Speaking of Firesmia…

"Pronts, Firesmia!"

Firesmia took a deep breath, let her hands fall to her side and walked to the stool. She noticed the teachers, even Professor McGonagall watch her closely. She knew that they all were curious which house a demigod would be sorted into. She picked up the hat, chewing on her lip and sitting on the stool. She placed the hat on her head; the edge of the hat fell over her face and she waited.

Harry bit his lip, closing his eyes and crossing his fingers under the table. He wanted Firesmia in the same house as he was in. He didn't want to be separated with her. She was his friend and he was hers.

"Ah, right there," A soft whisper erupted in her ear, making her pick her face up. "I've never sorted one of your kind before… You're so very loyal, that's genuine. Perhaps Hufflepuff—ah, wait. Much courage you possess, my dear. But I suppose the lot of you must have that… You're intelligent but—oh, what's this? You want to prove that worthy of your blood. That you're just as great as your siblings... and your mother. You're cunning, I see… You're not afraid to use trickery to get your until goal… But, you rather not do that. You rather confront the source directly. It's all right here…Where should I put you?" It stayed quiet for a bit and Firesmia didn't think of anything. Instead, she relaxed and let the hat look through all she's said and done at her camp. "Ah, facing the fear of me looking through your life at your camp, are you? How courageous. I know exactly where to put you—GRYFFINDOR!"

Firesmia sighed in pure relief, fear leaving her as she took of the hat as the Gryffindor house burst into cheers. She quickly jogged to the house as she got cat-called at by the twins. Harry wrapped his arm around her in a side hug and she returned it and shook a couple of hands. The teachers seemed impressed with her.

She whispered to Harry as "Thomas, Dean" a dark-skinned boy was being sorted, "How long was I up there?"

He shrugged. "A minute or so," he answered. "Why?"

"It felt—"


"—longer than that." Firesmia finished.

The third to last person to be sorted "Turpin, Lisa", was sorted into Ravenclaw rather quickly. Then, it was Ron's turn. He was pale green by then, more than nervous. Ron sat on the stool, placed the hat on his head and not even a second later, "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Well done, Ron, excellent," Percy Weasley congratulated pompously.

"Zabini, Blaise" (the last first year) ended up in Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her long parchment and took the Sorting Hat away. Firesmia looked down at her plate and traced the edge of it carefully. She knew then that they all were pure golden plates. She glanced around only to see Albus Dumbledore at his feet. He spread his arms out merrily, like the best thing in the world was to see all the students.

"Welcome!" His voice echoed just as loud as the Hat's. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to saw a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!" His smile grew. "Thank you!" He sat back down in his chair.

The Great Hall cheered and clapped in response and Firesmia was left with the difficult of task of choking down her laughter at the Headmaster's speech.

"Is he—a bit mad?" Harry asked Percy uncertainly.

"Mad?" Percy asked airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?"

Harry's mouth fell open. The dishes in front of him were now pilled with food. Firesmia had already begun putting various foods on her plate and she gestured him to do the same. "You're too skinny, Harry, get to eating before I force feed you." She said casually, putting some mashed potatoes on her plate and a bit of white gravy on top of them.

Harry nodded in response and put a bit of everything on his plate and eagerly began to eat. It was all delicious.

"That does look good," The ghost with the ruff said sadly, watching Harry cut up his steak. Firesmia then stole a small piece of Harry's steak, grinning at him as she chewed it. Harry rolled his eyes at her.

Firesmia swallowed. "Can't you—?"

"I haven't eaten for nearly four hundred years," The ghost sighed. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

"I know who you are!" Ron said suddenly. "My brothers told me about you—you're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I would prefer you call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy—" The ghost began stiffly but Firesmia interrupted curiously, along with the sandy-haired Seamus Finnigan,

"Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?" Firesmia and Seamus blinked at each other curiously before looking back at the ghost.

Sir Nicholas looked miffed, as if their little chat wasn't going at all the way he wanted. "Like this," He said irritated. He grabbed his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck, fell onto his shoulder but stayed attached by a few inches of skin. Firesmia looked away, wincing. Someone doesn't know how to behead someone properly, she shivered. Nearly Headless Nick, looking pleased at their reactions, flipped his head back to normal, coughed awkwardly, and said, "So—new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable—he's the Slytherin ghost."

Firesmia glanced over to the Slytherin table to see a ghost, staring forward with blank eyes, a bony face and was dressed in blood-stained sliver robes. He sat by Malfoy who—much to Firesmia's amusement—didn't look so happy with the arrangement of seating.

"How did he get covered in blood?" Seamus asked and Firesmia noticed she wasn't the only one who looked towards the Blood Baron.

"I've never asked."

So, everyone ate, and ate. Firesmia would eat what little she got until her plate was clean, then add a bit more and repeat the process. She was getting full though. Then the dessert appeared and Firesmia got some ice cream and chocolate pudding. Harry smirked to himself, getting a spoonful of her ice cream off her plate and quickly inserting it into his mouth. She stared at him.

"What? You did it to me." Harry told her and she relented her stare, nodding in reluctant agreement like yeah, good point and then going back to her ice cream.

Then, the conversation of families popped up as Harry helped himself to a treacle tart.

"I'm half-and-half," Seamus said when it was his turn. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mom didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him." Firesmia simply adored Seamus' Irish accent but didn't admit it out loud. It was so cool.

The others laughed.

"What about you, Firesmia?" Seamus asked, making pink flood her cheeks.

She swallowed the ice cream and set the spoon down. "Er—I'm a half-blood, I think." She admitted. "I've been told my mom was a witch—she died before I ever knew her—and I think my father was something like a Muggle or something close. Like a Muggle in a wizarding family, I don't know. I've never him." She shrugged. "But, eh, I'm a half-blood." In more ways than one, she thought.

They accepted her answer, some saying they were sorry about her mom and dad.

Ron turned to Neville, knowing that Firesmia most likely wanted the attention off of her. "What about you, Neville?"

"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch," Neville said. "but the family thought I was all-Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off guard and force some magic out of me—he pushed me off the end of the Blackpoll pier once, I nearly drowned—but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced—all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really please, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here—they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad."

On Firesmia's other side, Percy and Hermione were talking about the lessons. Firesmia rolled her eyes and quickly turned out the conversation. She didn't want to think about copying notes and looking through the books. Her death would surely be her dyslexia. She closed her eyes, pushing her plate away from her and drunk some pumpkin juice. She was done but tired now.

Harry, who was starting to feel as warm and sleepy as Firesmia, looked up at the High Table once more. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet; Professor McGonagall was talking with Professor Dumbledore; Professor Quirrell was talking with another teacher that he didn't recognize. The professor had long, greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sickly skin.

Firesmia had just stared to lean towards Harry to use his shoulder as a pillow again when he reached up and said, "Ouch!" while slapping his hand to his forehead.

She looked at him, wide-eyed. "What is it?"

"N-nothing." Harry stuttered a reply and Firesmia knew he was lying. She narrowed her eyes at him.

Harry turned to Percy. "Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" He asked.

"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you?" Percy asked thoughtfully while Firesmia looked at the greasy teach before looking back at Percy. "No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to—everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

Harry watched Snape after that and Firesmia watched Harry, feeling more than confused at his actions. Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again and the hall fell silent once more. "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." Firesmia tilted her head, waiting for him to continue. "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." Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins, who grinned in response. "I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classed in the corridors." He paused. "Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch." He smiled at them a bit. "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."

Firesmia narrowed her eyes, realizing how much he sounded like Chiron at that moment. She decided to take his advice seriously because generally for her, life as a demigod, almost always threatened death in very painful ways.

Harry laughed, though, but he was one of the very few people who did.

"He's not serious?" Harry murmured to Percy, a bit embarrassed.

"Must be," Percy frowned Dumbledore. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere—the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least."

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" Dumbledore cried, smiling. Firesmia scanned her eyes along the High Table to the other teachers to see their smiles had become stiff and forced. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Dumbledore gave his wand a small flick and a long, golden ribbon flew out of the tip of his wand. The ribbon rose high above all the tables and twisted itself into words. "Everyone pick their favorite tune," Dumbledore smiled. "and off we go!"

And in sync, the whole school bellowed:

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

Teach us something please,

Whether we be old and bald

Or young with scabby knees,

Our heads could do with filling

With some interesting stuff,

For now they're bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff,

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we've forgot,

Just do your best, we'll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot."

Everyone finished the song at different times and the last two singing were the Weasley twins singing at the tune of a slow, funereal march. Dumbledore conducted them until they finished and everyone clapped, Dumbledore being the loudest of them all. Firesmia was smiling, being reminded of the camp fires at Camp Half-Blood. Her heart twanged a bit. She missed camp a bit but she loved Hogwarts already.

"Ah, music," Dumbledore wiped his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall and up a marble staircase. Firesmia stumbled once or twice on a step while rubbing her eyes to stay awake long enough to get to the tower. Paints moved and whispered as everyone passed. Percy led the first years through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet.

Then they halted. In front of them was a bundle of walking sticks, floating mid air and they started to throw themselves at him when Percy took a step forward.

"Peeves," Percy whispered to the first years. "A poltergeist." He raised his voice, "Peeves—show yourself!" A loud, sound like a balloon loosing air was Percy's answer. "Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?"

A pop sounded and a little man with wicked, dark eyes appeared, clutching the walking sticks.

"Oooooooh!" He cackled evilly. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!" He swooped at them and everyone ducked, Firesmia letting a curse in Ancient Greek. If Peeves noticed her curse, he ignored it.

"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" Percy barked.

Peeves stuck out his tongue childishly and disappeared, dropping the walking sticks on poor Neville's head and flying away, knocking around suits armor as he passed. "You want to watch out for Peeves," Percy told them all they set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are."

At the very end of the long corridor they had been walking in was a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress. "Password?" She asked.

"Caput Draconis," Percy answered. The portrait sung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled and stumbled through it eagerly. Firesmia looked around the room they had ended up in and smiled to herself. It was the Gryffindor common room. Percy then directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. Firesmia smiled tiredly and mumbled a sleepy goodnight to Harry as she waved. He returned her actions with similar ones.

Firesmia climbed up the staircases with the other girls. Finally found Firesmia found the room that was divided between herself, Hermione and Lavender Brown. All of them were a bit too tired to speak with each other and quickly changed into their pajamas. They climbed into their beds and Firesmia observed the dark red room happily. She rolled over in her bed and snuggled into her covers. She looked at her ring and bracelet in the moon light that shined through the window. She smiled to herself.

Firesmia was right. While she missed camp—her home—dearly, she loved Hogwarts already. And she was excited for the term to officially start tomorrow.

She repositioned and closed her eyes, falling into pleasant, dreamless sleep.

So, what do you all think? I'm not too sure If I played the hat too well…

Oh, I don't know if any of you realized… It took me a bit to realize it when I was editing it again…

Did anyone realize that I made Firesmia and Harry indirectly kiss each other several times?

When they would switch (Harry was eating ice cream and Firesmia was drinking hot chocolate), Firesmia would eat the ice cream—which Harry had been eating. Then they would switch back. And repeat the process about ever five minutes.

Did anyone realize that? Or was it just me?

Review to let me know if you did, or review regardless because it provides serious motivation that I need.

Replies to reviews:

EmeraldStorm7: Hey, I'm not too sure if you reviewed on the new chapter but fanfiction says you did so I'm replying anyway. (Thank you for the review regardless) I did sort of take out that she was self-conscious of her name, if you haven't realized by now. But, it's still in there, slightly. With her closest friends, she doesn't like them calling her full name because it's too formal, she says. In reality, it makes her feel ashamed. Her dad named her but, regardless of the gifts he gives her, doesn't see her (or her siblings) in dreams or real life. It makes her depressed.

She is slightly self-conscious (but so is every girl in the world) because she's being compared to her mother, Amelia, who was beautiful, highly intelligent, and very talented. She feels she'll never live up to her mother's name. And being in a camp with judgmental Aphrodite campers (Drew, mostly) doesn't help much either.

I'm glad you like her. And thank you very much for reviewing!

The Missing 3000: Hey, hey, hey. You, my dear 3000-Natsu-loving-amazing-fan-person… You helped me a lot. You helped me regain the confidence needed to redo this story and I can't thank you enough for it. Thank you for reviewing.

RedPoople: Can I just say, "Wow, long review! Yay!" Okay, I'm good. I'm very grateful that you reviewed…

I'm terribly sorry that you don't like her name but I promise you that she gets several nicknames throughout this story. Anxiety does suck, I totally agree. The Missing 3000 helped me, even though they don't know it much. I'm glad you like Firesmia. Did you think I would make her horribly? Lol, I'm just kidding. (Please don't be offended, I don't want to offend anyone.) Oh, if just the pronunciation you don't know and that's why it bugs you… Firesmia: (Fur-is-me-uh) is how your pronounce it. I know it's spelled like it's pronounced but that part of the joke thing about her father, Hephaestus, naming her. We all know he's not good with people so naming her with the word "fire" in her name was a bit like him, no? Oh, to answer your question: She was "cursed" with the ability of a fire user, much like Leo… whenever she meets him (hint, hint.)

And I will keep writing, thank you!

Guest: Hi, I don't know your name but hi! I'm glad you like this one better and yeah, it does have more background because I've learned to develop my characters more. I'm very glad you think it's well written, too. It means a lot to me. Thank you for the review

LindaTheNerd: Well, I'm glad you ship Percabeth; you're certainly not the only one in the world. You're last statement confused me a bit and made a bit worried. I do plan on Percy having a crush on Firesmia later on and gets conflicted on his feelings for Annabeth and Firesmia. Percy won't be in love with Firesmia—he will have a crush—for I do make where he also has feelings for Annabeth like the dense idiot he is. And he conflicted, frustrated and that might end up with two different reactions. I'm not going to spoil and say what those are. Sorta the same with Harry. I'm not too sure on who I'll decide for Firesmia to end up with quite yet. I need to even everything out and like I said, I showed too much favoritism before and I'm serious difficulties pushing that aside. But, I'm getting there.

I'm nervous if I continue with the HarryxFirexPercy triangle you'll stop reading this story because I don't want to loose any readers. But, however, if it's my final decision to keep that part of the plot and you stop reading, there's nothing I can do. But I do appreciate you reading while you still do (assuming you might stop if I continue using that love triangle).

Also, I plan on having another person by an infatuated with Firesmia, not just Harry and Percy. I think it would be a good add on when I get there, anyway.

Either way, thank you for reviewing (it means a lot) and reading my story.

Annabeth Reeder: Thank you so much. You just made my heart swell, literally. If that was possible anyhow, is it possible for your heart to swell? Oops. Off track. Anyway, I'm so happy you like this story so much. And, I do plan on continuing. And I will let you know that is reviews like yours that gave me enough courage to rewrite the story better.

With love for my dear readers, J.J.

Read and review, it brings great pleasure!

(Author notes not included)

Word: 12,5665

Pages: 20