Worlds of Magic

JASON

September 1st 1998

When Jason came to, he had a stick in his hand. No, a wand. He heard a faint voice in his head. Laurelwood infused with oak wood, phoenix feather core, 12 inches, slightly springy. He looked up and saw an old woman, next to a lake and a castle, though he suspected she was stronger than she looked. McGonagall, he thought Professor McGonagall. "Are you alright", she asked worriedly. "I'm fine", Jason responded. "Are you one of the new exchange students? The demigods", she asked. "Yup, I'm Jason Grace, son of Jupiter". Her eyes slightly widened. "You're the one who died".

Jason winced. "That's a sensitive subject but yes I am one of the ones who died, who have to be a bit more specific than that. How did you know I would be coming?". McGonagall smiled, and said, "I'm a legacy of Hecate, grandma popped by and told be of our fate, and that you can stop it". "Oh", Jason responded.

McGonagall ushered him into the great hall, where she told him to sit on a stool. She put a hat on his head. "This is the sorting hat. It will sort you into your house which you share all your classes with, though your dorms will be shared with the other demigods. You may be helping teach some classes, but mostly you will bear the responsibilities of a 7th-year student, and you may be helping console those who came back from the war for their 8th year".

Jason knew about the 2nd wizarding war, and thought it to be tame compared to the wars he and his friends had been through, but he kept quiet, as he knew wizards didn't have godly blood and haven't experienced much worse than this. He felt okay about teaching classes due to his former praetorship in Camp Jupiter. "Let the sorting begin", Mcgonagall says, and he hears a voice in his head.