Book 2: Swords and Wands: The Prisoner of Azkaban
Summary: The demigods return in their second year to more surprises then they would ever have thought. Who is this Sirius Black and what does he have to do with Harry Potter? Find out in Book 2 of Swords and Wands
Disclaimer: I do not own PJO, HOO, or HP and I never will.
Chapter 2: Slither Through Time
The next morning, at the Slytherin table, Rachel and Annabeth were enjoying their breakfast and Rachel was updating Annabeth on yesterday's gossip. She was about to tell the blonde girl about the kiss she saw from Percy Weasley and Penelope Clearwater, but was interrupted by laughter down the table.
"Sometimes I'm like that Draco kid is cool and then other times I'm like: I hate his guts, right now is one of those times." Rachel glared at the laughing Slytherins.
"Oh, chill out, Rachel, it's just laughing." Annabeth rolled her eyes.
"They're making fun of Potter and it's interrupting my firsthand gossip update which I have to tell you because if you don't find out what it is, you will never know because you hate gossip."
Rachel smiled at Annabeth before turning back to the laughing crowd.
"Excuse me, Draco," Rachel leaned over Annabeth. The blonde boy and his group all turned to look at her. "Um, hi, Rachel Ridgewood, nice to meet you. Could you perhaps, I don't know, quiet your laughter just a smidge, I'm trying to help a friend out and update her on firsthand stories not tales I heard from other people. Thanks, you're a doll."
And the second year turned back to Annabeth and began talking once again leaving the third year crowd to leave their icy glares to her head. Instead of glaring at Rachel, Draco looked at Annabeth, who automatically looked down at the table. When their schedules came, they collected them.
"Wait a second, Annabeth; your schedule says you have third year and second year classes. It says you have them at the same time." Rachel studied the blonde girl's schedule.
"Dumbledore thinks I'm suited for more advanced classes. I need a challenge." Annabeth said haughtily.
"How are you going to be at two classes at once?" Rachel asked.
"Don't you worry your pretty little head about it." Annabeth said good-naturedly. "I have it all figured it out."
True to her word, she made it to both second and third year classes. She joined the third years for Divination. Harry, Ron, and basically the entire class were shocked to find her there. The only one who wasn't surprised was Hermione; both girls sharing a secretive smile.
The classroom itself was like someone's attic and an old-fashioned tea shop combined. The tables were small, circular, and crammed inside the classroom. They were surrounded by chintz armchairs and fat little poufs. The only thing lighting the room was a dim, crimson light. The curtains at the windows were all closed and the many lamps were covered with dark red scarves. It was very warm and the fire burning under the crowded mantelpiece was giving a sickly perfume as it heated a large copper kettle. The shelves running around the circular walls were crammed with dusty-looking feathers, stubs of candles, many packs of tattered playing cards, countless silvery crystal balls, and a huge array of teacups, and overall completing the attic tea shop look.
"Welcome," a voice said out of the shadows. "How nice to see you in the physical world at last."
Professor Trelawney moved into the firelight. She was thin, large glasses magnifying her eyes to several times their size. Draped over her shoulders was a gauzy spangled shawl. Chains and beads hung around her neck and her arms and hands were encrusted with a combination of bangles and rings.
Now, Annabeth had dealt with many prophets, seers, and augurs, so she knew not to judge. She had met people from Rachel to Octavian to Apollo and heard Percy's story about the prophet he bet his life against. Still, Annabeth had a bad feeling about this Professor, not in evil, but as in nothing good will come from this class.
"Sit, my children, sit." She said and they all climbed into armchairs or sank onto the poufs. Hermione gestured her to join her with Ron and Harry at the round table. Ron hid his distaste, she may have proven herself last year, but she was still a Slytherin and that simply was all to much.
"Welcome to Divination,' Professor Trelawney drawled, sitting herself into a winged armchair in front of the perfume-smelling fire. "My name is Professor Trelawney. You may have not seen me before. I find that descending too often into the hustle and bustle of the main school clouds my Inner Eye."
Nobody said anything as the bug-like professor spoke. She rearranged her shawl and spoke once more. "So you have chosen to study Divination, the most difficult of all magical arts. I must warn you at the outset that if you do not have the Sight, there is very little I will be able to teach you. Books can take you only so far in this field…"
Hermione looked startled while Annabeth raised her eyebrows. Ron and Harry grinned.
"Many witches and wizards, talented though they are in the area of loud bangs and smells and sudden disappearings, are yet unable to penetrate the veiled mysteries of the future.' Professor Trelawney went on. "It is a Gifted granted to few. You, boy," She turned to the nervous Neville. "Is your Grandmother well?"
"I think so." Neville stuttered.
"I would be so sure if I were you, dear," Professor Trelawney said. Neville gulped. Annabeth rolled her eyes. She knew she this class would be no good.
"Ah, Miss Chase, you roll your eyes as if you know more about this art then I do." The Professor studied Annabeth. "You had a long journey to get here, didn't you? From a far away land."
"Did the accent give it away?" Annabeth smirked. "I wouldn't say America is a long journey though, it's just across the pond."
The class let out small chuckles, easily hidden by coughs.
Professor Trelawney studied her distastefully. She then turned to the rest of the class. We will be covering the basic methods of Divinations this year. The first term will be devoted to reading the tea leaves. Next term we shall progress to palmistry. By the way, my dear," she shot at Parvati Patil," beware a red-haired man."
Parvati gave a startled look at Ron, who was right behind her. The third year edged her chair away from him.
"In the second term," Professor Trelawney continued, "we shall progress to the crystal ball-if we have finished with fire omens, that is. Unfortunately, classes will be disrupted in February by a nasty bout of flu. I myself will lose my voice. And around Easter, one of our numbers shall leave us forever."
A tense silence followed the proclamation. Annabeth folded her hands uneasily.
"I wonder, dear," she spoke to Lavender Brown, who was nearest to the professor, who shrunk into her chair. "If you could pass me the largest silver teapot."
Lavender stood up and took an enormous teapot off from the shelf, and put it down on the table in front of Professor Trelawney.
"Thank you, my dear. Incidentally, that thing you are dreading-it will happen on Friday the sixteenth of October."
Lavender trembled where she stood.
"Now I want you all to divide into pairs. Collect a teacup from the shelf, come to me, and I will fit it. Then sit down and drink, drink until only the dregs remain. Swill these around the cup three times with the left hand, then turn the cup upside down on into its saucer, wait for the last of the tea to drain away, then give your cup to your partner to read. You will interpret the patterns using pages five and six of Unfogging the Future. I shall move among you, helping and instructing. Oh, and dear"-she grabbed Neville by the arm as he stood up. "after you've broken your first cup, would you be so kind as to select one of the blue patterned ones? I'm rather attached to the pink."
Sure enough, Neville had no sooner reached the shelf of tea-cups where a tinkle of breaking china filled the room. Professor Trelawney handed him the dustpan and brush and nodded. "One of the blue ones, then, dear, if you wouldn't mind…thank you…"
When Annabeth and Hermione had their cups filled, they went back to the table and tried to drink the very hot tea quickly. They used their left hand to swill the dregs around as the professor had instructed and hand swapped them.
"This is a bit ridiculous." Hermione murmured as she studied Annabeth's dregs.
"Tell me about it." Annabeth studied Hermione's cup.
"It looks like a cloud? So you are going to have….a bad day?" Annabeth read to Hermione. She turned it. "A circle…you will be a part of a paradox?" She turned it. "A rose….love will come for you eventually." She turned it for the last one. "A sword…you are going to prove your worth."
Hermione huffed as she looked down at Annabeth's.
"You have a heart with a sword in it….your love life will get complicated but it works out in the end." Hermione turned it. "You have a spider….your life will be very complicated." She turned it. "You have a skull…danger in your path." She turned it. "You have two eyes….not everything will be what it seems."
Suddenly Professor Trelawney whirled around to their table as Harry snorted about something Ron said.
"Let me see that, my dear," she said to Ron, sweeping over and snatching Harry's cup from the red haired boy. Everybody stopped talking and watched the professor do her work.
"The falcon…my dear, you have a deadly enemy."
"But everyone knows that," Hermione said in a loud whisper. Annabeth snickered. Professor Trelawney stared at the bushy haired girl.
"Well, they do," Hermione said. "Everybody knows about Harry and You-Know-Who."
Harry and Ron stared at Hermione with a mixture of amazement and admiration. They had never heard Hermione speak to a teacher like that before. Professor Trelawney turned the cup once more.
"The club…an attack. Dear, dear, this is not a happy cup…"
"I thought that was a bowler hat," Ron commented sheepishly.
"The skull danger…danger in your path, my dear…."
Hermione and Annabeth shared a look. Everybody was staring at the professor, transfixed, as Professor Trelawney did the final turn. She gasped and then screamed.
Another tinkle of breaking china, Neville had smashed his second cup. The professor had sunk into her chair, her hand over her heart. Her eyes were closed. It was all rather dramatic to Annabeth.
"My dear boy…my poor, dear boy….no…it is kind not to say…no…don't ask me…."
"What is it, Professor?" Dean Thomas asked right away. Everyone had gotten to their feet and crowded around the four students' table, pressing close to get a good look at Harry's cup.
"My dear," Professor Trelawney's eyes opened dramatically. "you have the Grim."
"The what?" Harry asked.
He wasn't the only one. Dean Thomas shrugged at him. Lavender Brown looked puzzled. Annabeth studied everybody, confused. Nearly everybody else clapped their hands to their mouths in horror.
"The Grim, my dear, the Grim!" Professor Trelawney looked shocked that Mr. Potter didn't understand. Annabeth felt like she was in a dramatic play. "The giant, spectral dog that haunts churchyards! My dear boys, it is an omen-the worst omen-of death!"
Annabeth eyes sharpened, but otherwise she was as confused as the others. Hermione stood up and moved around to the back of the professor's chair.
"I don't think it looks like a Grim," she said flatly, as if, if she didn't think it looked like a Grim, then it isn't a Grim.
Professor Trelawney studied Hermione with growing dislike. "You'll forgive me for saying so, my dear, by I perceive very little aura around you. Very little receptivity to the resonances of the future."
Annabeth stood up and joined Hermione. "You're right; I don't see a Grim either."
Seamus Finnigan was tilting his head side to side as if trying to see if perceptive changed what it was.
"It looks like a grim if you do this," he said, eyes almost shut, "but it looks more like a donkey from here," he said, leaning to the left more.
"When you've all finished decided whether I'm going to die or not!" Harry yelled. Now nobody was looking at him.
"I think we will leave the lesson here for today," Professor Trelawney spoke in her mistiest voice. "Yes….please pack away your things…"
Silently the class returned their teacups back to Professor Trelawney, packed away their books, and then closed their bags.
Annabeth walked a little bit out of the way before using her trusty time turner to make it to Transfiguration for second years. The class was taking their places; Annabeth sat down next to Rachel, across from Leo and Luna. McGonagall was asking a question about the book and Annabeth raised her hand, getting called on.
Rachel had turned her head to see Annabeth and took a startled jump, chair and all, back. "When did you get here?" She asked, but Annabeth didn't answer.
When second year Transfiguration ended, Annabeth stayed behind. Professor McGonagall gave her a knowing, tight-lipped smile. Hermione took a seat next to her, piling the needed books on their desk.
Throughout the class, the students shot furtive looks to the back of the room where Harry Potter sat. Annabeth took notes on Professor McGonagall's lesson about Animagi, promising herself to tell Frank all about it. Annabeth watched very excitedly as the professor transformed into a tabby cat with spectacle markings around her eyes.
Annabeth clapped , but everybody, but the professor, stared at her so with a few more awkward claps, she stopped.
"Really, what has got into you all today?" Professor McGonagall turned back into herself with a pop and proceeded to stare at them all. "Not that it matters, but that's the first time my transformation's not got a lot of applause from a class."
Everybody's heads turned toward Harry, but nobody was brave enough to speak. Hermione raised her hand after a moment of silence.
"Please, Professor, we've just had our first Divination class, and we were reading the tea leaves, and-"
"Ah, of course," Professor McGonagall frowned. "There is no need to say any more, Miss Granger. Tell me, which of you will be dying this year?"
The students stared at their professor owlishly.
"Me," Harry spoke up.
"I see," Professor McGonagall set her steely gaze on Harry. "Then you should know, Potter, that Sibyll Trelawney has predicted the death one student a year since she arrived at this school. None of them has died yet. Seeing death omens is her favorite way of greeting a new class. If it were not the fact that I never speak ill of my colleagues-"
Professor McGonagall paused in her rant, nostrils going white. She went on, "Divination is one of the most imprecise braches of magic. I shall not conceal from you that I have very little patience with it. True Seers are very rare, and Professor Trelawney-"
Annabeth raised her eyebrows. It seems that the professor did not quite agree with the teacher of Divination. She couldn't blame her. Professor McGonagall then spoke up in a very matter-of-fact tone. "You looked in excellent to me, Potter, so you will excuse me if I don't let you off homework today. I assure you that if you die, you need not hand it in."
Hermione and Annabeth giggled. Harry had lost some of his paleness.
After the class, Annabeth had to attend Arithmancy with the help of their trusty time turners. This would be a fun year. From Care to Magical Creatures to second year potions, she had fun the whole way.
Nevertheless, the two girls (Annabeth and Rachel) were glad to get back to the Slytherin Common Room for some downtime. Annabeth started on their homework that had already been given to start off the year ("I can't believe we are getting homework already," Rachel had huffed) and was furiously scribbling her History of Magic essay. Rachel had instead decided to make owl origami, two of them already flying around the friends' heads.
Meanwhile, the third year kids were talking about how Draco Malfoy got attacked by a hippogriff and how he was currently residing in the infirmary.
"I wonder how much of the story is true." Rachel pondered, sending her third owl after the first two.
"All of it." Annabeth hummed, continuing on her homework.
"What?" Rachel turned to her friend. Annabeth never got into gossip.
"Nevermind." Annabeth looked up, watching the owls
The parchment owls chased each other, wings flapping and giving the sound of paper being shuffled. They did one final circle around the two girls' heads and as the common room door slid open, they escaped into the dungeons of Hogwarts; efficiently scaring the seventh year couple who had walked through.
Rachel Ridgewood stared after her creations before looking down to her homework.
"Hey, Annabeth, any idea on how to make a Forget-Me-Not Potion?"
The next morning Luna and Leo had caught up with the two on their way back from breakfast to go to class. The four all had the same class-second year Defense Against the Dark Arts-and they shuffled through the busy corridor.
"You know what?" Leo said.
"What?" Annabeth asked, ready for some random Leo thought.
"Why did the Ravenclaws choose an eagle as they animal mascot? Why not a raven for Ravenclaws?"
"The same reason Gryffindors has a lion for their animal mascot rather than a griffin." Annabeth mused, boredom seeping from her voice.
"Why aren't you in Ravenclaw?" Rachel said.
"Because she doesn't put intelligence and wit before all else, she has pride and power there too-and she has a path of greatness ahead of her." Luna hummed, talking about the traits that are the deciding factors of a Slytherin.
Annabeth shrugged and the students carried on their way.
Come Thursday, Annabeth had third year Defense Against the Dark Arts after a rather uneventful Potions lessons. When they got there, Professor Lupin wasn't even at the class. They had all sat down, taken out their books, quills, and parchment. They then talked for awhile. Lupin smiled vaguely as he entered the room looking very much like a ratty professor with his tatty old briefcase placed on the teacher's desk.
Annabeth was reminded of a different person almost distantly. Quintus/Daedalus swum into her memories. Annabeth wondered vaguely if there was more to Lupin then what it seemed.
"Good afternoon, would you please put all your books back in your bags. Today's will be a practical lesson. You will need only your wands."
Curious looks were exchanged as everyone put away their books. Annabeth fingered her wand excitedly.
"Right then," Professor Lupin said when all books were in their places. "If you'd follow me."
The class followed him excitedly, puzzled too. He led them along a deserted corridor and around a corner where the first thing to be revealed was Peeves, who was floating upside down in midair and stuffing the nearest keyhole with chewing gum.
Peeves didn't even look up until Professor Lupin was very close. He then wiggled his curly-toed feet and broke into song. Annabeth raised her eyebrows.
"Loony, loopy Lupin," the song went. "Loony, loopy Lupin, loony, loopy Lupin-"
Rude and uncontrollable, off the marks, obnoxious, ect. as Peeves was, he showed more respect to teachers usually. Almost as if expecting a fight, the students turned to look at Lupin to see how he would react.
He was smiling.
"I'd take that gum out of the keyhole if I were you, Peeves," he said good-naturedly. "Mr. Filch won't be able to get in to his brooms.
Peeves blew a raspberry.
Lupin sighed as he took out his wand. He turned his head to the class over his shoulder. "This is a useful little spell, please watch closely."
Raising his wand to shoulder height and pointing at Peeves, he said. "Waddiwasi!"
The wad of chewing gum shot out of the keyhole and straight down Peeves' left nostril. He whirled and zoomed away, cursing. Annabeth promised herself to remember the spell so that when she made it back to Camp Halfblood she could use it against the Stoll brothers …if she still had magic, of course.
"Cool, sir!" Dean Thomas shouted in amazement.
"Thank you, Dean," Professor Lupin put his wand away. "Shall we proceed?"
He led the students down a second corridor and stopped, right outside the staffroom door.
"Inside, please," Professor Lupin said, opening it and standing back.
The staffroom, long and paneled and filled with mismatched chairs, was empty except for one of the most disliked teachers at Hogwarts. Professor Snape sat in a low armchair and he looked around as the class filed in until they were formed like a miniature army. Lupin followed behind them and made to close the door when Snape spoke up in his drawling voice. "Leave it open, Lupin. I'd rather not witness this."
Annabeth rolled her eyes as he passed the class, his dark robes billowing behind him all dramatically. At the doorway, he turned on his heel and looked at Professor Lupin.
"Possibly no one's warned you, Lupin, but this class contains Neville Longbottom. I would advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult. Not unless Miss Granger is hissing instructions in his ear."
Annabeth sniffed angrily as Neville blushed scarlet. No one should treat a student in such ways, no matter who they were. Professor Lupin, almost challengingly, raised his eyebrow.
"I was hoping that Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation and I am sure he will perform it admirably."
Annabeth smiled, she would like this teacher (even if he already proved himself to the second years). Snape's lip circled as he left, shutting the door with a snap.
"Now, then," Professor Lupin spoke, beckoning the class toward the end of the room where an old wardrobe stood, a place where the teachers kept their spare robes. Were they going to go to Narnia perhaps? Annabeth thought rather rudely. As Lupin stood next to it though, the wardrobe gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall. Nope.
"Nothing to worry about," Professor Lupin calmly said due to the fact that a few people had jumped back in alarm, Annabeth not included. "There's a boggart in there."
Most people found that to be a worrying though. Neville had given Lupin a terrified look. Seam Finnigan now eyed the cupboard apprehensively. Annabeth stared at the cupboard with a calculating look. She had read about boggarts.
"Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces," Professor Lupin taught, "Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks-I've even met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock. This one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the headmaster if the staff would leave it to give my third years some practice."
"So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what is a boggart?"
Hermione put up her hand, leaving Annabeth in the dust.
"It's a shape-shifter," the bushy haired girl spoke, "It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most."
"Couldn't have put it better myself," Professor Lupin smiled and Hermione glowed with pride. "So the boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears.
"This means," Professor Lupin said, "that we have a huge advantage over the boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harry?"
Harry looked startled, Hermione bouncing on her feet next to him. Annabeth studied the dark haired boy patiently.
"Er-because there are so many of us, it won't know what shape it should be?"
"Precisely," Professor Lupin said and Hermione dejectedly let her hand fall. "It's always best to have company when you're dealing with a boggart. He becomes confused. Which should he become, a headless corpse or a flesh-eating slug? I once saw a boggart make that very mistake-tried to frighten two people at once and turned himself into half a slug. Not remotely frightening. The charm that repels a boggart s simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a boggart is laughter. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing. We will practice the charm without wands first. After me, please…riddikulus!"
"Riddikulus!" The class spoke together.
"Good," Professor Lupin spoke again. "Very good. But that was the easy part, I'm afraid. You see, the word alone is not enough. And this is where you come in Neville. Right, Neville. First things first: what would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?"
Neville spoke, but no words came out.
"Didn't catch that, Neville, sorry," Professor Lupin spoke carefully.
Neville looked around helplessly as if help was in the air somewhere. "Professor Snape."
Almost everyone laughed in the class. Neville grinned apologetically. Professor Lupin looked thoughtfully at the boy.
"Professor Snape…hmmmm….Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?"
"Er-yes," Neville's voice quavered slightly. "But-I don't want the boggart to turn into her either."
"No, no, you misunderstand me," Professor Lupin said, now smiling. "I wonder could you tell us what sort of clothes your grandmother usually wears?"
Neville looked almost startled. Annabeth's brain worked twice as fast. She grinned, knowing what the Professor was onto. "Well…always the same hat. A tall one with a stuffed vulture on top. And a long dress…green, normally….and sometimes a fox-fur scarf."
"And a handbag?" Professor Lupin prompted.
"A big red one," Neville nodded.
"Right then," Professor Lupin said, "Can you picture those clothes very clearly, Neville? Can you see them in your mind's eye?"
"Yes," Neville wondered what was coming next.
"When the boggart bursts out of this wardrobe, Neville, and sees you, it will assume the form of Professor Snape," Lupin spoke. "And you will raise your wand-thus-and cry 'Riddikulus'-and concentrate hard on your grandmother's clothes. If all goes well, Professor Boggart Snape will be forced into that vulture-topped hat and that green dress, with that big red handbag."
A great shout of laughter filled the classroom. The wardrobe shook violently.
"If Neville is successful, the boggart is likely to shift his attention to each of us in turn," said Professor Lupin, "I would like all of you to take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you most, and imagine how you might force it to look comical…."
Annabeth pondered her worst fear, drawing a blank. There were so many things she feared and so many things she didn't. She had no idea what would show up and what would take its place.
"Everyone ready?" Professor Lupin asked.
And so it begun from Professor Snape to a blood-stained mummy to a banshee to a rat to a rattlesnake. It stopped at Annabeth's feet.
Suddenly the boggart took form quickly. Aranche stood ready to eat her (Annabeth didn't move), but then it was a dead person on the ground. An older Percy laid sprawled (Annabeth let out a choked gasp) and then her mother was approaching her.
"You are the worse daughter ever. You are nothing! You have failed me! You are no daughter of mine. You are fake."
"Riddikulus!"
Athena suddenly disappeared in ribbons, the ribbons taking a spot in front of Ron. Annabeth didn't move. She sat there, shocked. She was slightly surprised by her fears and why it chose three of them rather then just one.
When Annabeth left class, she did so excitedly, ready for the day to be over.
Classes and days went by, by the weekend the demigods had gathered at their usual spot. The large tree towering over them. The only person missing was Percy who had a detention.
"Got caught trying to copy off Bobby, he did." Hazel mused rather lightly as if she was talking about the weather.
"Seaweed brain." Annabeth rolled her eyes.
"Lupin is so cool." Leo suddenly spoke up. "He's a thousand times better then Mr. I'm-Gilderoy-Lockhart-so bow down-peasant!" Leo did large gestures and imitated a blinding smile. Frank, sitting next to him, shifted uncomfortably. He had a bad feeling about Lupin and he couldn't explain it.
"Very funny, Leo, but let's not speak ill of the dead…or the hospitalized." Piper chewed her quill.
"I'm just stating the facts." Leo hummed. "Even you can't deny the truth."
"Okay, Lupin is really cool." Piper admitted. "But why the sudden topic?"
"Defense Against the Dark Arts homework." Leo said before looking back down at his work. "I heard the third years got to fight boggarts."
"They do." Annabeth spoke up. Leo looked at her then at her homework.
"That's Arithmancy."
"Yes."
"That a third year elective."
"So? Why does it matter?"
"But-"
"Just leave it alone Leo."
When the school week started up again, Defense Against the Dark Arts soon became the demigods' favorite class. They studied all types of creatures (only a tiny bit less advance then the third years, Annabeth was glad to experience both) and got to learn all about them. Percy, Jason, and Annabeth were simply shining in that class and Professor Lupin noticed. Common mantras included:
"Good job, Miss Chase, ten points to Slytherin."
"Mr. Grace, that spell was simply exquisite, ten points to Gryffindor."
"Exceptional, Mr. Jackson! Ten points to Hufflepuff!"
Potions was dreadful, as always, the only people seeming to get the swelling potion right was Leo and Hazel, which caused them to scrape up a few extra points for their houses. All Percy managed to do was cause sludge in his cauldron, Frank's not looking much better.
Herbology had moved to the more dangerous greenhouses where they had begun to learn about mandrakes, much to the second years' chagrin. They simply did not understand why they had to take care of these things. Percy still did not have the Hufflepuff talent for Herbology.
History of Magic was boring as ever, as they had started learning about the International Warlock Convention of 1289 which was just a very long timeline that Percy didn't even pay attention to.
In Transfiguration, they had started on the beetle to button and rabbits to slippers spells. Out of the demigods, only Frank seemed to understand Transfiguration well enough to accomplish most of the spells. They blamed his ability to change into animals on that.
Charms were rather normal, Piper beating everybody else with her excellent skills. She seemed to be the only one out of the demigods to actually enjoy the class and attend with enthusiasm each day.
Homework seemed to be piled on more as the days of September passed fast. When people weren't talking about Sirius Black, they were complaining about homework.
One day, Percy, Hazel, and Frank were walking down the hall rather hurriedly to get to their next class when they bumped into a towering figure. Lupin looked down at them as the three second years caught themselves.
"Late to class?" He asked in a friendly manner.
"Always." Percy blew hair out of his eyes. Trying to get to the other side of the castle was much harder then one made it seem.
Frank stared at Lupin rather alarmed. Hazel bounced on her feet; they were very late to class now.
"Here. I'll write you a note." Lupin grabbed a piece of parchment and accepted Hazel's quill. "There you go! All set. Just don't let it happen again." He winked and walked down the hall. The three second years watched him.
"I have a bad feeling about him." Frank muttered.
"Dude, he just gave us a get-out-of-jail-free card, Professor Flitwick would've had our heads- if he could reach them, of course." Percy looked at his friend questionably. "Lupin is okay in my book."
"I don't know." Frank said uncomfortably.
"Can't we go to class now?" Hazel was getting inpatient. If they waited any longer, it wouldn't matter about having a pass; Professor Flitwick would give them a detention without a second glance.
And so the three second years did.
If you guys wanted to see the rest of the seven's boggarts, don't worry, you eventually will, just not for classes.
Annabeth attends second year classes, third year classes, and all electives. She's a busy girl.
Next chapter: Hufflepuff prank, nosey first year girl questions Leo's machines, an accidental demigod power occurs, a midnight meeting, and more.
Review with questions, thoughts, or anything!