**Chapter 3: Arrival at Hogwarts**

The Hogwarts Express chugged out of Platform 9 3/4, carrying its cargo of excited first-year students into a world of magic and wonder. Percy Jackson, aka Harry Potter, stood on the platform, his eyes wide with awe as he gazed at the iconic train. He was dressed in his brand-new Hogwarts robes, which felt stiff and unfamiliar against his skin. The sound of laughter and chatter filled the air as students and parents said their goodbyes. As he boarded the train, Percy was immediately struck by the cacophony of sounds and the riot of colors that seemed to dance in every direction. The air was thick with the smell of steam, chocolate, and the faint hint of magic. He made his way down the corridor, searching for an empty seat, his New York accent drawing curious glances from the other students. "Hey, you're that kid with the weird accent, right?" a boy with a messy mop of hair asked, eyeing Percy with interest. Ron Weasley's eyes sparkled with curiosity as he took in Percy's appearance. Percy grinned, feeling a little self-conscious about his Brooklyn-inflected vowels. "That's me. I'm Percy...Harry Potter." He extended his hand, and Ron shook it firmly. The girl sitting across from them, with bushy brown hair and a book clutched tightly in her hand, looked up and smiled. "I'm Hermione Granger," she said, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "And you are...?" As Percy introduced himself, the three of them quickly discovered they had a lot in common, despite their different backgrounds. Ron was fascinated by Percy's stories of growing up in New York City, while Hermione was intrigued by his Muggle upbringing. As the train chugged along, Percy felt a sense of wonder wash over him. He was actually here, at Hogwarts, surrounded by people who understood him in a way that no one ever had before. The scenery outside the window changed from urban sprawl to rolling hills and eventually, the misty landscape of Scotland. When they arrived at Hogsmeade Station, the first-years were herded off the train and onto the platform, where Professor McGonagall, the Transfiguration professor, stood waiting. Her eyes twinkled with warmth as she greeted the students. "Welcome, first-years, to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! I trust you had a pleasant journey? Now, let us proceed to the sorting ceremony." As they followed McGonagall to the Great Hall, Percy couldn't help but feel a little awestruck by the sheer scale of the castle. Towering ceilings, sparkling chandeliers, and long tables laden with golden plates and goblets – it was all so... magical. The sorting ceremony was a whirlwind of excitement and nerves. One by one, the first-years were called to sit on the stool, and the Sorting Hat, an ancient and rather eccentric magical artifact, was placed on their head. When it was Percy's turn, he climbed onto the stool, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. The Hat was placed on his head, and he felt a strange tingling sensation, like the hat was reading his thoughts. "GRYFFINDOR!" the Hat shouted, its voice echoing through the hall. Percy made his way to the Gryffindor table, where Ron and Hermione were waiting to congratulate him. As they sat down to the feast, Percy felt a sense of belonging wash over him. He was home, at least for the next year. The food was a revelation – roast beef, shepherd's pie, and treacle tart, all of which Percy devoured with gusto. The conversation was lively, with discussions ranging from Quidditch to magical theory. As the night drew to a close, Percy felt exhausted but exhilarated. He had never felt like he belonged anywhere before, but here, at Hogwarts, surrounded by these strange and wonderful people, he felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be. Little did he know, his journey was only just beginning, and the adventures that lay ahead would test his courage, his wits, and his very identity. But for now, he was content to bask in the glow of his newfound home, surrounded by friends who accepted him for who he was – New York accent and all.