PJO: A Professor of Hogwarts

Albus Dumbledore sat in his office, fingers steepled beneath his chin as he listened to the heated discussion unfolding before him.

"A Kraken, Albus!" Minerva McGonagall's normally composed voice had taken on a sharp edge. "The man summoned a Kraken in his very first lesson! I thought he was just joking when I saw his lesson plan. But to actually do it. Do you have any idea how many school policies that violates?"

"Let us be precise, Minerva," Severus Snape drawled from his seat near the fireplace. "Summoning eldritch sea creatures is not explicitly forbidden in the Hogwarts rulebook."

McGonagall turned on him with a glare. "That is because no one in their right mind would think it necessary to include such a rule!"

Dumbledore stroked his beard, the corners of his eyes crinkling in faint amusement. "Minerva, I do believe you are upset."

"Upset?" she echoed, pacing furiously. "The students are practically foaming at the mouth with theories about him. The Daily Prophet has already made a spectacle of it. And do not get me started on the syllabus—"

"Ah, yes," Snape interrupted silkily. "The syllabus. 'If You Hear Ominous Music, Run.'" He tilted his head. "Rather melodramatic, wouldn't you say?"

McGonagall exhaled sharply. "Severus."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "I'm merely pointing out that we appear to have hired a man who treats a teaching position as some sort of joke. I fail to see how allowing him to remain here benefits anyone—unless, of course, you believe we require more faculty members with an inherent disregard for structure and authority."

McGonagall pinched the bridge of her nose. "I cannot argue that his methods are… unconventional. But there is no denying that he is powerful. The students have already recognized it. And they fear him."

"Perhaps they should," Snape said quietly. "We still know little of what he is. Or why he is here."

Dumbledore finally leaned forward, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles. "Severus, Minerva—surely you do not think I would allow an unknown element into Hogwarts without due consideration?"

Snape's expression darkened. "You have been known to take risks, Headmaster."

"I have," Dumbledore conceded easily. "But only when the risk is worth taking."

McGonagall frowned. "And you believe Professor Jackson is worth the risk?"

Dumbledore smiled. "My dear Minerva, Percy Jackson is not a risk. He is a storm, long since set in motion. The question is not whether we can control him—but whether we should even try."

Snape's scowl deepened, but he said nothing.

McGonagall hesitated. "And what of the Olympians? The students are speaking of them as though the name alone is an explanation. Do you know what it means?"

For a moment, Dumbledore was silent. Then he stood, moving to the large window that overlooked the grounds. The Black Lake rippled under the morning light, as if recalling the great beast that had been stirred from its depths only a day prior.

"There are forces in this world older than Hogwarts. Older than the Ministry. Older than even magic as we know it," he murmured. "Some are sleeping. Some are watching. And some… have decided to walk among us."

He turned back to face them, his expression unreadable. "The Olympians are not merely a wizarding family. They are something far greater. And Professor Jackson…" He smiled faintly. "Let us simply say, he is not what he seems."

McGonagall and Snape exchanged glances.

"And you trust him?" McGonagall asked softly.

Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled once more. "Trust is a curious thing, Minerva. Sometimes, it is given freely. Other times, it is earned. And occasionally—" he glanced back out the window, watching as Percy Jackson strolled across the lawn, laughing as he dodged a rogue gnome— "sometimes, trust is knowing when to let the storm run its course."

Snape let out a quiet breath, his expression unreadable. "And if the storm is destructive?"

Dumbledore turned to face them fully, his usual twinkle dimming slightly. "Then we shall be prepared." He strode back to his desk and took his seat once more. "For now, let us watch, and let us learn. Percy Jackson is no ordinary man, but neither are we ordinary guardians of this school."

McGonagall still looked unsettled, but she nodded reluctantly. "Very well, Albus. But I will be keeping a very close eye on him."

Snape scoffed. "As will I. Though I suspect he will be more difficult to predict than even Potter."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Then let us hope he is easier to guide."

With that, the conversation ended, though the unease remained thick in the air. Outside, Percy Jackson continued his stroll, blissfully unaware—or perhaps perfectly aware—that the eyes of Hogwarts were now firmly upon him.

***

Later that evening, Snape sat in his private quarters, a goblet of wine untouched beside him as he stared into the flickering fire. The flames cast long shadows over the room, but his thoughts were darker still.

Dumbledore was being far too accepting. Too trusting. Percy Jackson had power unlike any wizard he had ever seen, and yet he carried himself as if he were barely concerned about the world around him. That was dangerous. Power without direction led to destruction.

Snape had spent his life watching for threats, and his instincts screamed that Percy Jackson was an enigma they could not afford to ignore.

With a quiet sigh, he pulled out a scrap of parchment and dipped his quill into the ink.

If no one else would uncover the truth, then he would.

He began to write.

To: Lucius Malfoy Subject: The New Professor at Hogwarts