It's been too long.
D'claims go to Rick Riordan.

"Perseus Jackson," a bored voice announced over the PA system. "Please report to the principal's office." Octavian, a quiet blonde boy, glanced up from his work, a little sly smile on his face. Mr Brunner nodded pointedly towards a messy black haired boy, tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth as he scribbled away. Percy dropped his crayons and scowled, got to his feet and walked silently past the staring faces of his classmates.

"Is he gonna be expelled, Mr Brunner?" Clarisse, a stocky little six year old, whispered loudly. Mr Brunner shot her a weary look and shook his head.

"No, Clarisse. Just get back to coloring your picture, inside the lines if you please."

"Do I have to?"

"Yes, you do."

The girl crossed her beefy arms and pulled a face, but as Mr Brunner began to wheel his chair toward her, she backed off, instead attacking the picture ferociously with a red crayon. Percy hid a snicker and waited by the door for Mr Brunner to escort him to the principal's office.

Many stories had been told of the fearsome office, where evil monsters and goblins lurked under the desk and in the heavy purple curtains. Tales that Mr D, the principal, was really half monster because of the way the atrocious way he dressed — every six year old knew that only monsters dressed that poorly — and his pudgy face was rumored to be fixed in a permanent sneer. Not an attractive look indeed.

"You're dead meat, Prissy." Clarisse whispered, slicing her hand across her neck as Percy passed her.

He glared at her. "Shut up, Clarisse!"

"Percy, mind your language." Mr Brunner admonished, ushering the fuming boy out the door. "Come along now. And Annabeth," he paused, addressing the blonde girl coloring neatly inside the lines. "You're in charge until I get back."

"How come she gets to be in charge? She's always in charge!" Clarisse complained. Mr Brunner shot Clarisse a look that made the beefy girl sink into her chair. Annabeth smirked at the other girl. She considered sticking her tongue out, but nah, she was mature.

"Oh, Percy," Mr Brunner said as they headed down the corridor. "What did you do this time?"

"I didn't do anything! I swear." The boy protested fervently. They rounded a corner, Mr Brunner's wheelchair making an impressively smooth turn.

"Did you and Clarisse get into another fight?"

"No!" They meandered down the hallway to Mr D's dreaded office.

"Percy…"

"Hello, Mr Jackson." Mr Brunner was cut off as Mr D whipped open the door with a smile, just as Percy was about to turn the handle. The six year old had to turn his face up to avoid the lovely view of the principal's rather pudgy stomach. Mr D's face wasn't much of an improvement, though. "Come in, come in." He beckoned, his words slurring together. "I'll send him right back after I'm done with him, Mr Brunner; I believe you have a class to teach?"

The man in the wheelchair nodded, though grudgingly, not wanting to leave his student to the mercy of the Principal of Doom, but rolled his way back down the corridor. He cast one last backward glance before the door clicked shut.

"Mr Jackson, have a seat," Mr D smiled and sat down behind his mahogany desk, his pearly whites on display. Looks like the devil didn't eat chocolate, Percy thought with a gulp as he remembered his own Kit Kat coated teeth at break. Add that to the list of reasons why Mr D was so frightening.

But contrary to common belief, the principal's office wasn't all that scary, though the same heavy curtains and gloomy desk were present. He hadn't seen any goblins or monsters yet, so Mr D must want him alive, Percy reasoned, very rationally.

Percy inched closer to the brown leather seat, eyeing it suspiciously before sitting down at the very edge, his feet just reaching the floor.

"Great, now do you know why you're here today?"

The boy shook his head. He twiddled his thumbs, a habit; keeping still wasn't a talent of his. Mr D leaned forward in his seat.

"I received a complaint from one of our students that you were bullying them." He raised an eyebrow. "Is this true?"

Percy shook his head again. Mr D sighed, sipping from a mug filled with dark red liquid.

"Care to elaborate?"

Percy's eyes widened. Elaborate? What kind of sorcery was that? "What?"

"Could you explain yourself, please, Mr Jackson." The principal spoke with deliberate irritation.

"I dunno what you mean. I didn't bully anyone." And like a mule, Percy stubbornly stuck to what he knew best, his story.

"Are you sure you didn't bully, and I'm not going to mention names, an Octavian in first grade, in your class?"

"You said his name."

"Answer the question."

"...noooo, I didn't." He dragged out the word, being utterly convincing.

"Ugh, these stupid children." Mr D muttered under his breath, gulping down some more red liquid. It looked like the same stuff Percy's mom would drink after a long day at work. Maybe it was like juice for adults.

"Alright, kid. I know what you did." He leaned over the desk. "Let's settle this once and for all." Mr D's dark eyes bored into Percy's defiant green ones.

"I didn't do anything." Percy enunciated each word clearer than anything he had ever said before. His brow furrowed, eyes ablaze.

"You are going to stay back after school for detention today." The principal decreed. "Dismissed."

But just as he was about to take another sip from his mug the door swung open, Octavian and Annabeth stood in the doorway. The girl had her hand around the boy's arm, like she was bringing him in for one hell of a show and tell. The skinny blonde boy had a fierce scowl on his face and an expression that looked inches from murderous. Mr Brunner was nowhere in sight. A small part of Percy's brain wondered how they had gotten out of class.

"Tell him." Annabeth demanded.

Mr D's face was a gentle red. "What on earth are all you pests—children, pardon me—doing here?!" He bellowed.

"Octavian needs to say something." Annabeth answered, hands on hips.

"What is it?" Mr D growled, nearly at the end of his patience for good for nothing first graders.

"Percy didn't do anything. I lied." Octavian mumbled, glaring daggers at a certain messy haired boy.

Mr D glowered at the kids. "You really are a bunch of knuckleheads, I'm sorry, I mean children."

"Okay, no detention for Peter, but blondie, tomorrow, you and me, at break. Dee-ten-shun." The principal said, almost gleefully. Add 'likes punishing little kids' to the list. Annabeth grinned, and Percy smiled back at her.

"Now get out of my sight!"

The kids scarpered out of the room, glad to be out of the devil's hair. The door slammed shut behind them. Octavian's face had turned pink, and there were practically visible waves of anger emanating off him. He got up in Percy's face.

"I'm gonna get you one day, Prissy. You'll be sorry." He swung around to yell at Annabeth. "You too!" Then he turned on heel and stormed off. Percy and Annabeth stared after him in silence before bursting into laughter.

Percy had a still-chocolatey-in-places grin on his face when he tapped her shoulder. "Thanks, Annabeth."

"I knew it was him. He was being all smug and too happy. Octavian's never happy." She explained in that proud, know-it-all voice that spelled classic Annabeth as they walked back down the corridor to their classroom. She turned to him with a half smile.

"But, y'know, it's what best friends do."

Percy beamed. "It's what best friends do.