Demigods at Hogwarts | the rescue mission ✔

4| British Names

Jason's POV

  "She reminds me of a young Annabeth," Percy said wistfully. "Smart and strong-willed."

  We were boarding the Hogwarts Express—a large red steam engine which looked like something you would find in a History museum. Kids were everywhere, pushing big trolleys overflowing with stacks upon stacks of textbooks. Each of us were only carrying a small backpack containing all of our books and clothes, making us stand out from the crowd.

  Back at home, high school had more than 400 students, which made it easy to blend in. Everyone here seemed to know everyone else. My hand slipped into Piper's, and we exchanged nervous glances.

  "Let's grab a seat," she suggested, nodding at the other demigods.

  It took forever to find an empty compartment. Unfortunately, ours seemed to be meant for only 4 people, so we had to squeeze ourselves in. Leo sighed as soon as we sat down, rubbing his stomach longingly. "Holy Hephaestus, I'm starving."

  I gave him a disapproving stare. "But you just had four gigantic waffles with strawberries and whipped cream!"

  Leo shrugged. It was a wonder how that boy could eat so much and maintain such a slight build. "Are there any refreshments?" he asked.

  Just then, a stout elderly woman with a shrivelled face pushed a trolley heaped with a liberal amount of snacks past our compartment. Leo, Nico and Percy jumped up from their seats and advanced towards the woman at lightning speed. Fishing out wizarding money from their pockets, the three of them practically depleted the trolley of food.

  "The many wonders of the wizarding world," Leo burped after he had finished stuffing his face. For a moment, we were too busy staring at him to notice the compartment door sliding open.

  "Do you mind if we come in? Everywhere else is full." a voice said. A fourteen-year-old boy with unruly jet black hair and green eyes was standing outside, grinning shyly at us. He was accompanied by two kids his age—one was a tall redhead with freckles all over his face, and the other was Hermione.

  Piper opened her mouth, about to say something, when a boy with white-blond hair shouldered past Harry and into the compartment. He had a smirk on his face, and his silver eyes seemed to glint menacingly. He stopped abruptly when he reached Hermione, as if he was contemplating on what to do next.

  "Get out of my way, you filthy Mudblood," the boy spat after a few seconds of awkward silence from all of us. Instead of looking intimidated, Hermione's eyes blazed up with anger. The redhead standing next to her had his fists clenched, as if he was trying to stop himself from slapping the boy.

  I stood up, my eyes narrowed to slits. I'd had my share of kids with gigantic egos back at Camp Jupiter, and I knew exactly how to handle this one. "I don't know where you're from, but I'm sure they taught you to respect women." I said calmly, folding my arms over my chest. For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of uneasiness in his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it had come.

  The boy sneered, letting out a callous laugh. "Who do you think you are, bossing people around like that?"

  "What's a Mudblood?" Percy asked curiously, unaffected by the boy's taunts.

  "People who are muggle-born, of course," the boy answered, a superior grin on his face. "People with parents who don't even have a drop of pure blood in them. People who aren't worth it." He glared at Hermione in disgust, then he turned and smiled at Piper. "I'm Draco. Draco Malfoy."

  "Well, Draco," I reasoned, meeting his icy gaze steadily. "Step aside and let Hermione and her friends come in, will you?"

  Draco laughed again, but it sounded forced. "The nine of you will never fit into that compartment," he protested, still standing in the doorway. A crowd of people had already gathered around him, most of whom were wearing green-coloured ties. I didn't want to draw attention—Chiron had specifically warned us against it—but nobody flirted with Piper while I was around.

  "Go now, or you'll be heading up to the infirmary with a broken nose as soon as we get off this train." I finished firmly, staring daggers at him.

  Draco's brow furrowed as he studied me like an exhibit on display. "You're not from around here, are you? That gives you no right to speak to me with this attitude of yours."

  It happened in less than a second—I darted forward and punched Draco hard on the jaw. He stumbled backwards, his eyes bleary with tears. I vaguely remembered Reyna mentioning how punching someone in the jaw could hurt more than kicking them in the stomach.

  "Wait 'till my father hears about this," Draco hissed, clutching the side of his face in visible agony. He then stormed away, flanked by two large, corpulent boys. Hermione sat down next to Thalia, her face red with embarrassment.

  "Sorry about that," she murmured apologetically. "Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherins think they're better than everyone else."

  I shrugged. "It's OK." I answered lightheartedly, wondering what the word "Slytherin" meant. Judging by the tone of Hermione's voice, it seemed to mean bad news.

  "Anyways," Piper said, clearing her throat as she smiled at Hermione's two friends, who were still standing outside the compartment door. "I haven't heard your names."

  "Oh, I'm Harry," said the one with the jet black hair. "Harry Potter." His eyes were glued on us, as if expecting some sort of reaction. "And that's Ron Weasly," he added, his head jerking in the redhead's direction.

  British people had weird names.