Title: Headmaster Snape and The Percy Jackson Books
Rating: T
Summary: Harry, Hermione, the Weasley's, the Malfoy's, and the Order land in a room that was once used by the Founders. They were summoned by Headmaster Snape and told, in-order to leave, they must read the five books that detail Percy Jackson's adventures. Why does Snape want them to read these books about some kid? In the end, they will all find out. Crossover of Percy Jackson.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of Rowling or Riordan's characters and I'm making nothing from this.
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To jazmincita716: Thanks for your review.
To Alejandra459: Thanks for your review.
To BlackStar103: The first chapter is intended to be short. The following chapters will be way longer.
To the Guest: Even though your review doesn't appear I'll answer your question. The reason that Snape knows about Percy, and why he wants the Order, Harry, Hermione, the Weasley's, and the Malfoy's to read the books, will be revealed at the end of the story. Note: This will be one long, long, story.
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Chapter 2: I Accidentally Vaporize My Pre-Algebra Teacher
Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood.
"What kind of opening is that?" Ron asked.
"It's a statement, moron," Draco said.
If you're reading this because you think you might be one, my advice is: close this book right now. Believe whatever lie your mom or dad told you about your birth, and try and lead a normal life."
"Parent's don't lie about this stuff," Kingsley said.
"Oh you be surprised what parents will lie about," Severus told him.
Being a half-blood is dangerous.
"How is being a blood half-blood so dangerous?" Ron asked. "It's not as though you can get killed for it."
It's scary.
"Doesn't make a bit of sense," Ron said.
"I'm sure that we'll all find out," Mrs. Weasley told him.
"Most of the time, it gets you killed in painful, nasty ways.
"Does this Jackson boy have to be so full of drama?" Remus said.
If you're a normal kid, reading this because you think its fiction, great. Read on. I envy you for being able to believe that none of this ever happened.
"Yeah, he's full of drama," Remus confirmed.
But if you recognize yourself in these pages-if you feel something stirring inside-stop reading immediately."
"The only thing that Ron feels stirring inside him is the need for food," Hermione said and Fred and George laughed.
"Hay, I'm a growing boy."
Hermione rolled her eyes.
You might be one of us. And once you know that, it's only a matter of time before they sense it too, and they'll come for you."
"What does that even mean?" Harry asked.
"Hay, we're talking about a book that Snape chose. Anything is possible."
Draco glared at him.
Don't say I didn't warn you.
"Yeah, okay," Ron said.
My name is Percy Jackson.
"Finally we have a name for the drama king," Remus said.
I'm twelve years old.
"Why is his age so important?" Kingsley asked.
Until a few months ago, was a boarding student at Yancy Academy, a private school for troubled kids in upstate New York."
"So he's an American," Hermione said.
"Correct, Miss Granger," Lucius said, "They even have their own government there as well."
"I so need to go there," Hermione said.
Am I a troubled kid? You could say that.
"He's trouble isn't close to what Harry went through at twelve," Ron said.
"I think, when your done with this book you won't be saying that," Severus told him.
Ron glared at him, but said nothing.
I could start at any point in my short, miserable, life to prove it. But things really started going bad last May, when our sixth-grade class took a field trip to Manhattan."
"Must be a part of New York," Draco said.
Twenty-eight mental-case kids and two teachers on a yellow school bus-."
"What's a school bus?" Draco asked.
"It's used to transport muggle children from home to school. I took one when I was a kid."
"Yeah, because your dad was a muggle," Harry said.
"I don't talk about him," Severus said.
"Harry, don't egg him on," Hermione warned.
Harry glared, but said nothing.
Heading to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to look at ancient Greek and Roman stuff.
"I feel for you, Perc," Fred said.
"A museum isn't that bad," Harry said. "At least it beats a detention with Umbridge."
"Which you should of told Professor McGonagall about."
"For the first time, I agree with Severus," McGonagall said.
"What did she do?" Narcissa asked.
"Oh just sliced Potter's hand open with a blood quill," Severus told her.
Draco went green.
"That's just really gross," Lucius said.
I know-it sounds like torture.
"Sounds like torture to me," Ron said, "Going to some place to see a bunch of old things."
Harry and Hermione both rolled their eyes.
Most Yancy field trips were. But Mr. Brunner, our Latin teacher, was leading this trip, so I had hope.
"What makes this Mr. Brunner so interesting?"
"Oh you'll find out," Severus told Remus.
Mr. Brunner was this middle-aged guy in a motorized wheel chair.
"What the heck is that?" Mrs. Weasley asked.
"It allows disabled people to get around without having to use their hands," Severus told her. "I've seen a couple of them around."
He had thinning hair and a scruffy beard and a frayed tweed jacket, which always smelled like coffee. You wouldn't think he'd be cool, but he told stories and jokes and let us play games in class."
"Remember when Flitwick allowed us to play games."
"Which I was bad at," Harry said.
"Snape wouldn't."
"Because class is a time to teach, not to play games."
"Well, at least I'm fun."
Severus rolled his eyes at that. He knew about the kind of 'fun' things that Flitwick like to do that wasn't suitable for children to know.
He also had this awesome collection of Roman armor and weapons, so he was the only teacher whose class didn't put me to sleep.
"Unlike Binns classes," Tonks remarked.
I hope the trip would be okay. At least, I hoped that for once I wouldn't get into trouble. Boy, was I wrong.
"Back to the drama," Remus said. "What the heck can happen on a field trip that would make him think this?"
"You'll find out."
See, bad things happen to me on field trips. Like at my fifth grade school, when we went to the Saratoga battlefield, I had this accident with a Revolutionary War cannon. I wasn't aiming for the school bus, but of course I got expelled anyway."
"They allowed children near one of those things," Hermione said, clearing upset.
"American's are way too strange."
And before that, at my fourth-grade school, when we took a behind-the scenes tour of the Marine World shark pool, I sort of hit the wrong lever on the catwalk and our class took an unplanned swim.
"How is that even possible?" Harry asked.
And the time before that…Well, you get the idea.
"Yeah, we the idea. Your trouble when you're around others," Harry remarked.
"Like you're not," Fred remarked.
This trip, I was determined to be good.
Everyone, including Severus, snorted at that.
All the way into the city, I put up with Nancy Bobofit, the freckly, redheaded kleptomaniac girl, hitting my best friend Grover in the back of the head with chunks of peanut butter-and-ketchup sandwich.
"What is a klepto-whatever?"
"Kleptomaniac," Hermione said. "Someone that has the overwhelming urge to steal. They have to be treated for it, as it's a problem.
Grover was an easy target. He was scrawny. He cried when he got frustrated. He must've been held back several grades, because he was the only sixth grader with acne and the start of a wispy beard on his chin.
"Sounds a bit like Neville."
"I don't cry when I get frustrated."
"You moan, Neville, you moan."
"Oh, thanks for reminding me, wizard that doesn't like to do any kind of homework," Neville shot back at Ron.
"That's enough, both of you," Tonks said.
Severus saw both Gryffindor boys glaring at each other.
On top of all that, he was crippled. He had a note excusing him from PE for the rest of his life because he had some kind of muscular disease of the legs.
"Poor boy," Mrs. Weasley said. "Though there are potions for that."
He walks funny, like every step hurt him, but don't let that fool you. You should've seen him run when it was enchilada day in the cafeteria.
"What's a café-?"
"It's a place that students eat at," Hermione cut in. "And enchilada is a kind of food, from Mexico."
Anyway, Nancy Bobofit was throwing wads of sandwich that stuck to his curly brown hair, and she knew I couldn't do anything back to her because I was already on probation.
"I would have punched her," Ron said.
The headmaster had threatened me with death by in-school suspension if anything bad, embarrassing, or even mildly entertaining happened on this trip.
"How is that even an actual threat?" Ginny asked, looking at Harry for some answer.
"Don't look at me, I don't know," Harry said.
Grover tried to calm me down.
"It's okay. I like peanut butter."
Everyone laughed, though Kingsley said, "Sounds a bit like Harry."
"I'm nothing like this Percy person."
Severus snorted at that.
He dodged another piece of Nancy's lunch.
"That's it." I started to get up, but Grover pulled me back to my seat."
"Yeah, he acts just like Potter," Severus remarked.
Harry gave him a look that told him that if had his wand he would of hexed Snape three ways to Monday. Severus wasn't fazed.
"You're already on probation," he reminded me. "You know who'll get blamed if anything happens."
"Sounds like this Grover boy keeps Percy grounded."
"Like Hermione does," Ginny stated and Severus agreed.
Looking back on it, I wish I'd decked Nancy Bobofit right then and there. In-school suspension would've been nothing compared to the mess I was about to get myself into.
"What's about to happen?" Ginny asked.
"Oh you'll find out," Severus said.
Mr. Brunner led the museum tour.
He rode up front in his wheelchair, guiding us through the big echoey galleries, past marble statues and glass cases full of really old black-and-orange pottery. It blew my mind that this stuff had survived for two thousand, three thousand years.
"Yeah, we're all lucky," Hermione remarked.
He gathered us around a thirteen-foot tall stone column with a big sphinx on the top, and started telling us how it was a grave marker, a stele, for a girl about our age.
"Muggles know what a sphinx is," Ron said, shocked.
"Ron, there are tons of creatures that, a long time ago, muggles believed in. Of course we wizards are the only ones that can see them."
"And a stele?"
"I think the book told us what a stele is," Remus said.
He told us about the carvings on the sides. I was trying to listen to what he had to say, because it was kind of interesting, but everyone around me was talking.
"Rude," Luna said.
And every time I told them to shut up, the other teacher chaperone, Mrs. Dodds, would give me the evil eye.
"Reminds me of Snape."
"I'm not that bad," Severus defended.
Harry and Neville both snorted.
Mrs. Dodds was the little math teacher from Georgia-.
"What's Math and Georgia?" Ron asked.
"Math is a subject taught in muggle schools, which would have helped you out in Potions, and Georgia is a state in America," Severus explained.
Who always wore a black leather jacket, even though she was fifty years old. She looked mean enough to ride a Harley right into your locker.
"What's a Harl-?"
"It's a motorcycle," Hermione said, "My father owns one and so do I, even though I haven't yet gotten my license.
"What's a locker?"
"A place that you store things when you're not using it. Muggle schools have them."
"Oh I need to see one of those things."
"Maybe later, Mr. Weasley."
She had come to Yancy halfway through the year, when our last math teacher had a nervous breakdown.
"The kinds of kids that are around her, don't blame the poor dear."
"Wish I could have a nervous breakdown," Severus said.
From her first day, Mrs. Dodds loved Nancy Bobofit and figured I was devil's spawn. She would point her crooked finger at me and say, "Now honey," real sweet, and I knew I was going to get afterschool detention for a month.
"Sounds like Umbridge to a tee," Harry said.
One time, after she made me erase answers out of an old math workbooks until midnight, I told Grover I didn't think Mrs. Dodds was human. He looked at me, real serious, and said, "You're absolutely right."
"Why do I get a feeling that Mrs. Dodds is really bad news," Ginny said.
"Yeah, she sounds worse than Snape."
Mr. Brunner kept talking about Greek funeral art.
Finally, Nancy Bobofit snickered something about the naked guy on the stele, and I turned around and said, "Will you shut up?"
Everyone in the room winced, including Mrs. Weasley as she read it.
"Oh I feel so bad for Percy."
It came out louder than I meant it to.
The whole group laughed. Mr. Brunner stopped his story.
"He's so busted," Harry said.
"Mr. Jackson," he said, "did you have a comment?"
My face went totally red. I said, "No, sir."
"Yeah, he's totally busted," Harry remarked.
Mr. Brunner pointed to one of the pictures on the stele. "Perhaps you'll tell us what this picture represents?"
I looked at the carving, and felt a flush of relief, because I actually recognized it. "That's Kronos eating his kids, right?"
"Totally gross."
"Why would he do that?"
"I think that Percy will answer that for you," Severus told them.
"Yes," Mr. Brunner said, obviously not satisfied. "And he did this because…"
"Well…." I racked my brain to remember. "Kronos was the king god and."
"God?" MR. Brunner asked.
"Titan," I corrected myself. "And…he didn't trust his kids, who were the gods. So, um, Kronos ate them, right? But his wife hid baby Zeus, and gave Kronos a rock to eat instead. And later, when Zeus grew up, he tricked his dead, Kronos, into barfing up his brothers and sisters."
"I think I'm going to get sick," Tonks said.
"That's beyond nasty," Neville said.
"Well that's what the myths say happened," Hermione said.
"Eeew!" said one of the girl's behind me.
"And so there was this big fight between the gods and Titans," I continued, "and the gods won."
Some snickers from the group.
"He answered the question," Hermione said, sounding outraged.
Behind me, Nancy Bobofit mumbled to a friend, "Like we're going to use this in real life. Like it's going to say on our job application, "Please explain why Kronos ate his kids.'"
"And why, Mr. Jackson," Brunner said, "to paraphrase Miss Bobfit's excellent question, does this matter in real life?"
"Busted," Grover muttered.
Everyone laughed at what Mrs. Weasley read.
"He's got an excellent hearing," Lucius remarked.
"Shut up," Nancy hissed, her face even brighter red than her hair.
"Sounds like she beats Weasley boy here," Draco said.
"Shut up, Malfoy," Ron snarled.
"Make me," Draco countered.
"Enough, once again, from both of you," Narcissa said.
At least Nancy got packed, too. Mr. Brunner was the only one who ever caught her saying anything wrong. He had radar ears.
"So does Remus," Hermione said.
"What does packed mean?"
"It's slang, I think," Hermione told him, "I've never been to the States, so I don't know."
"It's slang, Mr. Weasley," Severus said.
I thought about his question, and shrugged, "I don't know, sir."
"I see," Mr. Brunner looked disappointed. "Well, half credit, Mr. Jackson. Zeus did indeed feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him disgorge his other five children, who, of course, being immortal gods, had been living and growing up completely undigested in the Titan's stomach. The gods defeated their father, sliced him into pieces with his own scythe, and scattered his remains in Tarterus, the darkest part of the Underworld."
"I really am going to throw up," Tonks said, going green.
"Tonks, it's just a myth," Remus said, though he did look a bit pale.
"On that happy note,-."
"On that happy note," Lucius said, "How is that a happy note?"
"I think Mr. Brunner is just strange," Neville said.
"I think he's smart," Luna remarked.
"It's time for lunch. Mrs. Dodds, would you lead us back outside?"
"I don't think that I could eat?"
Everyone snorted at Ron's statement.
The class drifted off, the girl's holding their stomachs, the guys pushing each other around and acting like doofuses. Grover and I were about to follow when Mr. Brunner said, "Mr. Jackson."
I knew this was coming.
I told Grover to keep going. Then I turned towards Mr. Brunner. "Sir"
Mr. Brunner had this look of wouldn't let you go-intense brown eyes that could've been a thousand years old and had seen everything.
"Sounds like Dumbledore," Hermione said, and Severus saw Harry glaring at him at the mention of the man that he had been forced to kill.
"You must learn to answer my question," Mr. Brunner told me.
"About the Titans?"
"About real life. And how your studies apply to it."
"Oh."
"What you learn from me," he said, "is vitally important. I expect you to treat it as such. I will accept only the best from you, Percy Jackson."
I wanted to get angry, this guy pushed me too hard.
"Moody would love him," Ginny remarked.
I mean, sure, it was kind of cool on tournament days, when he dressed up in a suit of Roman armor and shouted, "What ho!" and challenged us, sword-point against chalk, to run to the board and name every Greek and Roman person who had ever lived, and their mother, and what god they worshipped.
"They worshipped these gods," Ron said, shocked.
"Yes, Ron, they did," Harry said, "Before the Greeks and Romans became Christian they worshipped a verity of different gods and goddess."
"Ah, the good old days," Severus said.
"It's official," Ron said, "Not only is Snape a murderer but he's freaking mental."
Severus glared at him on that.
But Mr. Brunner expected me to be as good as everyone else, despite the fact that I have dyslexia and attention deficit disorder and I had never made above a C- in my life. No-he didn't expect me to be as good; he expected me to be better. And I just couldn't learn all those names and facts, much less spell them correct.
"What is whatever he has?" Ron asked.
"Dyslexia means that someone has a hard time reading," Harry said, "Attention deficit disorder means that you have a hard time paying attention."
"Poor kid," Mr. Weasley said.
I mumbled something about trying harder, while Mr. Brunner took one long sad look at the stele, like he'd been at this girl's funeral. He told me to go outside and eat my lunch.
The class gathered on the front steps of the museum, where we could watch the foot traffic along Fifth Avenue.
"And before you ask, Ron, it's the name of a street."
"I knew that," Ron said.
Overhead, a huge storm was brewing, with clouds blacker than I'd ever seen over the city. I figured maybe it was global warming or something, because the weather all across New York State had been weird since Christmas. We'd had massive snow storms, flooding, wildfires from lightning strikes. I wouldn't have been surprised if this was a hurricane blowing in.
Nobody else seemed to notice.
"Strange," Hermione said, "I would have noticed all those things."
Some of the guys were pelting pigeons with Lunchables crackers.
"Hay, those birds did nothing to you," Tonks said.
Nancy Bobofit was trying to pick pocket something from a lady's purse-.
"Oh that horrible girl," Tonks said.
And, of course, Mrs. Dodds wasn't seeing a thing.
"Yeah, that sounds just like something that Snape would do."
Severus glared at him. If his godson was doing that, he wouldn't be able to set down for a month.
Grover and I sat on the edge of the fountain, away from the others. We thought that maybe if we did that, everyone wouldn't know we were from that school-the school for the loser freaks who couldn't make it elsewhere.
"Detention?" Grover asked.
"Nah," I said, "Not from Mr. Brunner. I just wish he'd lay off me sometimes. I mean-I'm not a genius."
"I wish he wouldn't put himself down," Mr. Weasley said and she took a drink of water that had appeared.
Grover didn't say anything for a while. Then, when I thought he was going to give me some deep philosophical comment to make me feel better, he said, "Can I have your apple?'
"So rude," Hermione remarked.
I didn't have much of an appetite, so I let him take it.
I watched the stream of cabs going down Fifth Avenue, and thought about my mom's apartment, only a little ways uptown from where we sat. I hadn't seen her since Christmas. I wanted so bad to jump in a taxi and head home. She'd hug me and be glad to see me, but she'd be disappointed, too. She'd send me right back to Yancy, remind me that I had to try harder, even if this was my sixth school in six years and I was probably going to be kicked out again. I wouldn't be able to stand that sad look she'd give me.
"Sounds like something that Lily would have done if you were this Percy person," Remus told Harry.
"I agree," Luna said, smiling.
Mr. Brunner parked his wheelchair at the base of the handicapped ramp. He ate celery while he read a paperback novel. A red umbrella stuck up from the back of his chair, making it look like motorized café table.
I was just about to unwrap my sandwich when Nancy Bobofit appeared in front of me with her ugly friends.
"Sounds like Malfoy and his two pea size brain goons," Hermione said.
"Hay, at least their purebloods," Draco said.
"And my son isn't ugly that that horrible muggle girl," Narcissa said.
I guess she'd gotten tired of stealing from the tourists-and dumped her half eaten lunch in Grover's lap.
"Gross," Ginny said.
"Oops." She grinned at me with her crooked teeth. Her freckles were orange, as if somebody had spray-painted her face with liquid Cheetos.
"What's Cheetos?"
"It's a muggle snack," Hermione explained.
"And why would it be liquid?"
"Never mind," Hermione said.
I tried to stay cool. The school counselor had told me a million times, "Count to ten, get control of your temper." But I was so mad my mind went blank. A wave roared in my ears.
I don't remember touching her, but the next thing I knew Nancy was sitting on her butt in the fountain, screaming, "Percy pushed me!"
"Don't blame him for doing it," Harry said.
"Yeah, putting a bully in her place."
Mrs. Dodds materialized next to us.
Some of the kids were whispering: "Did you see-."
"The water-."
"like it grabbed her-."
"Did he just do magic?" Neville wondered.
"I doubt it," Hermione said, "I mean, we don't even know if this Percy person is a wizard."
"I most assure you, Miss Granger, that Percy isn't a wizard."
"Then how was he able to do it?"
"You'll find out in due time," Severus told her.
I didn't know what they were talking about. All I knew was that I was in trouble again.
As soon as Mrs. Dodds was sure poor little Nancy was okay, promising to get her a new shirt at the museum gift shop, etc., etc., Mrs. Dodds turned on me. There was a triumphant fire in her eyes, as if I'd done something she'd been waiting for all semester. "Now, honey-."
"Oh she's mad," Cho said.
"I know," I grumbled. "A month erasing workbooks."
That wasn't the right thing to say.
"Come with me," Mrs. Dodds said.
"Don't go with her," Ginny and Cho cried out.
"Wait!" Grover yelped. "It was me. I pushed her."
"He's a true friend," Fred said.
I stared at him, stunned. I couldn't believe he was trying to cover for me. Mrs. Dodds scared Grover to death.
She glared at him so hard his whiskery chin trembled.
"I don't think so, Mr. Underwood," she said.
"But-."
"You-will-stay-here."
"Oh he's in trouble," Ron said.
Grover looked at me desperately.
"It's okay, man," I told him. "Thanks for trying."
"Honey," Mrs. Dodds barked at me. "Now."
Nancy Bobofit smirked. I gave her my deluxe I'll-kill-you-later stare. Then I turned to face Mrs. Dodds, but she wasn't there. She was standing at the museum entrance, way at the top of the steps, gesturing impatiently at me to come on.
How'd she get there so fast?
"Why do I have a bad feeling about this?" Hermione asked.
I have moments like that a lot, when my brain falls asleep or something, and the next thing I know I've missed something, as if a puzzle piece fell out of the universe and left me staring at the blank place behind it. The school counselor told me this was part of the ADHD, my brain misinterpreting things.
I wasn't so sure.
I went after Mrs. Dodds.
Halfway up the steps, I glanced back at Grover. He was looking pale, cutting his eyes between me and Mr. Brunner, like he wanted Mr. Brunner to notice what was going on, but Mr. Brunner was absorbed in his novel.
"Some teacher," McGonagall said. "I would be more interested in what was going on around me then a book."
I looked back up. Mrs. Dodds had disappeared again. She was now inside the building, at the end of the entrance hall.
"Muggles have entrance halls?" Ron said.
Severus saw Hermione rolling her eyes. Looks like the stupid train was still moving a full speed.
Okay, I thought. She's going to make me buy a new shirt for Nancy at the gift shop.
But apparently that wasn't the plan.
I followed her deeper into the museum. When I finally caught up to her, we were back in the Greek and Roman section.
Except for us, the gallery was empty.
Mrs. Dodds stood with her arms crossed in front of a big marble frieze of the Greek gods. She was making this weird noise in her throat, like growling.
"She's a werewolf," George said.
"Oh honestly, George, its broad daylight," Hermione said.
Even without the noise, I would've been nervous. It's weird being alone with a teacher, especially Mrs. Dodds. Something about the way she looked at the frieze, as if she wanted to pulverize it…
"You've been giving us problems, honey," she said.
"She's going to kill him," Lucius said.
"No, she wouldn't dare do that," Hermione said, "There are cameras that will catch her in the act."
I did the safe thing. I said, "Yes, ma'am."
She tugged on the cuffs of her leather jacket. "Did you really think you would get away with it?"
"With what?" Draco asked.
The look in her eyes was beyond mad. It was evil.
"SHE'S YOU-KNOW-WHO'S SISTER," Ron screamed.
"Oh for the love of Merlin, Tom doesn't have a sister," Harry said.
"And how do you know?"
Harry sighed and shook his head.
She's a teacher, I thought nervously. It's not like she's going to hurt me.
I said, "I'll-I'll try harder, ma'am."
Thunder shook the building.
"We are not fools, Percy Jackson," Mrs. Dodds said. "It was only a matter of time before we found you out. Confess, and you will suffer less pain."
I didn't know what she was talking about.
All I could think of was that the teachers must've found the illegal stash of candy I'd been selling out of my dorm room. Or maybe they'd realize I got my essay on Tom Sawyer from the internet without ever reading the book and now they were going to take my grade away. Or worse, they were going to make me read the book."
"Oh please don't find his candy," Ron said.
"There's nothing wrong with reading a book," Hermione said. "Honestly, cheating."
"Well," she demanded.
"Ma'am, I don't…"
"Your time is up," she hissed.
Then the weirdest thing happened. Her eyes began to glow like barbecue coals. Her fingers stretched, turning into talons, Her jacket melted into large, leathery wings. She wasn't human. She was a shriveled hag with bat wings and claws and a mouth full of yellow fangs, and she was about to slice me to ribbons.
"She's worse than You-Know-Who's sister."
"What the bloody hell is she?"
"A Fury," Harry and Hermione said together.
"A what?" Remus said.
"One of Hades helpers," Harry said, "They punish mortals for things like killing their children or their parents. They make Dementors look like poodles."
Then things got even stranger.
Mr. Brunner, who'd been out in the front of the museum a minute before, wheeled his chair into the doorway of the gallery, holding a pen in his hand.
"What ho, Percy!" he shouted, and tossed the pen through the air.
Mrs. Dodds lunged at me.
With a yelp, I dodged and felt talons slash the air next to my ear. I snatched the ballpoint pen out of the air, but when it hit my hand, it wasn't a pen anymore. It was a sword, Mr. Brunner's bronze swords, which he always used on tournament day.
Mrs. Dodds spun towards me with a murderous look in her eyes.
"Run," Hermione cried out.
My knees were jelly. My hands were shaking so bad I almost dropped the sword.
She snarled, "Die, honey!"
And she flew straight at me.
Absolute terror ran through my body. I did the only thing that came naturally: I swung the sword.
The metal blade hit her shoulder and passed clean through her body as if she were made of water.
Hiss!
Mrs. Dodds was a sandcastle in a power fan. She exploded into yellow powder, vaporized on the spot, leaving nothing but the smell of sulfur and a dying screech and a chill of evil in the air, as if those two glowing red eyes were still watching me.
I was alone.
There was a ballpoint pen in my hand.
Mr. Brunner wasn't there. Nobody was there but me.
My hands were still trembling. My lunch must've been contaminated with magic mushrooms or something.
Had I imagined the whole thing?
"I would think the same thing if I saw that," Ginny said, shivering.
I went back outside.
It had started to rain.
Grover was sitting by the fountain, a museum map tented over his head. Nancy Bobofit was still standing there, soaked from her swim in the fountain, grumbling to her ugly friends. When she saw me, she said, "I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your butt."
I said, "Who?"
"Our teacher. Duh!"
I blinked. We had no teacher named Mrs. Kerr. I asked Nancy what she was talking about.
She just rolled her eyes and turned away.
I asked Grover where Mrs. Dodds was.
He said, "Who?"
But he paused first, and he wouldn't look at me, so I thought he was messing with me.
"Not funny, man," I told him. "This is serious."
Thunder boomed overhead.
I saw Mr. Brunner sitting under his red umbrella, reading his book, as if he'd never moved.
"How did he get back there so quickly?" Narcissa asked.
I went over to him.
He looked up, a little distracted. "Ah, that would be my pen. Please bring your own writing utensil in the future, Mr. Jackson."
I handed Mr. Brunner his pen. I hadn't even realized I was holding it.
"Sir," I said, "where's Mrs. Dodds"
He stared at me blankly. "Who?"
"He's lying," Hermione said. "He was there."
"I doubt that he'll admit to it," Fred said.
"the other chaperone. Mrs. Dodds. The pre-algebra teacher."
He frowned and sat forward, looking mildly concerned. "Percy, there is no Mrs. Dodds on this trip. As far as I know, there has never been a Miss Dodds at Yancy Academy. Are you feeling alright?"
"That's the end of the chapter," Mrs. Weasley said, closing the book.
"I don't know if I even believe half of what's written in this book," Ron told Harry.
"Trust me, Mr. Weasley, the book speaks the complete truth," Severus told him. "So who wants to go next?"
"I'll do it," Ron said, taking the book and opened it. "Three Old Ladies Knit the Socks of Death."