"Who would like to read first?" Dumbledore asked after everyone was settled around the table.
"I will, Professor Dumbledore," Hermione volunteered, and he handed the book to her.
"I Accidentally Vaporize My Pre-Algebra Teacher," she read, getting a few raised eyebrows around the table.
"What's pre-algebra?" Ron asked.
Hermione answered, "It's a form of mathematics," and Lisa answered dramatically, "Inhumane torture."
"Could we please get on with the book?" Snape sneered. He was not happy about having to spend more time with the Blacks and Potter than he already did.
Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood.
Harry interrupted, "What's wrong with being a half-blood?"
Hermione shot him a glare and continued,
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, and try to lead a normal life.
Molly frowned. "Parents shouldn't lie to their children."
"Besides, it won't work," Lisa said. "It might for a little bit, but sooner or later…"
"What?" Sirius asked, looking at his daughter tentatively. What had happened to her?
Lisa sighed. "You'll see."
Being a half-blood is dangerous. It's scary. Most of the time it gets you killed in painful, nasty ways.
"I'm starting to think this isn't the type of half-bloods we're used to," Tonks commented worriedly.
"No, they are not," Dumbledore said.
If you're a normal kid, reading this because you think it's fiction, great. Read on. I envy you for being able to believe that none of this ever happened.
"But it did happen, right Professor?" Hermione asked.
"Indeed it did, Ms Granger."
But if you recognise yourself in these pages—if you feel something stirring inside—stop reading immediately. You might be one of us.
Fred smirked at George, and the two started chanting, "One of us! One of us! One of-"
"Boys!" Molly scolded, glaring at them.
Don't say I didn't warn you.
Lisa grinned. "You didn't warn me!"
"Warn you about what?" Ginny asked.
Her smile fell. "You'll see."
My name is Percy Jackson.
I'm twelve years old. Until a few months ago, I was a boarding student at Yancy Academy, a private school for troubled kids in upstate New York.
"It's America?" Tonks asked.
Mad-Eye grunted. "Clearly, Nymphadora."
Tonks glared at him, and her hair turned red. "Don't call me Nymphadora."
Am I a troubled kid?
"Certainly sounds like it, Mate," George commented, and Sirius barked out a laugh.
Yeah. You could say that.
Lisa smiled. "Kinda comes with the job description, Perce."
"Of what?" Sirius asked.
Lisa waved him aside, which annoyed him. This was his daughter. Why wouldn't she tell him anything?
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—twenty-eight mental-case kids and two teachers on a yellow school bus, heading to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to look at ancient Greek and Roman stuff.
Hermione interrupted herself, saying, "That sounds interesting." She frowned at the next line.
I know—it sounds like torture. Most Yancy field trips were.
But Mr. Brunner, our Latin teacher, was leading this trip, so I had hopes.
Mr. Brunner was this middle-aged guy in a motorized wheelchair.
"What is a wheelchair?" Arthur asked excitedly.
"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. 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.
"He sleeps in class?" McGonagall asked.
Lisa frowned. "I do that."
"Lisa!" Hermione scolded.
"I have dyslexia and ADHD," Lisa defended. "It's hard for me to pay attention."
I hoped the trip would be okay. At least, I hoped that for once I wouldn't get in trouble.
"But why on Earth would you want to avoid trouble?" Fred asked.
"I have no idea, Forge." George shook his head in dismay. "No idea."
Boy, was I wrong.
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. 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. And the time before that…Well, you get the idea.
By the end, everyone was laughing, sans Snape (who was just bored) and McGonagall (who was trying very hard to look disapproving). Fred and George were leaning against each other, they were laughing so hard.
This trip, I was determined to be good.
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.
Lisa scowled. "That bitch better leave Grover alone."
"Lisa!" Molly scolded. "Watch your language!"
Tonks made a face. "Who eats peanut butter-and-ketchup?"
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. 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 in his legs. He walked 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.
Lisa laughed, shaking her head fondly. Oh, Grover…
"I'm going to kill her," I mumbled.
Grover tried to calm me down. "It's okay. I like peanut butter."
He dodged another piece of Nancy's lunch.
"That's it." I started to get up, but Grover pulled me back to my seat.
"You're already on probation," he reminded me. "You know who'll get blamed if anything happens."
Hermione frowned. "What if it wasn't his fault?"
"They'd probably find a way to pin it on him anyway," Lisa said.
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.
"I agree," Ginny muttered. "That bitch would've deserved it."
"Ginevra!" Molly scolded.
Ginny held up her hands in surrender. "What? It's true!"
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.
"Pottery?" Ron asked. "That sounds ridiculously boring."
Fred nodded. "Right, you are, dear brother."
It blew my mind that this stuff had survived for two thousand, three thousand years.
"Imagine making something that would last that long," Hermione said, and there was a dreamy note in her voice.
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. 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 everybody around me was talking, and every time I told them to shut up, the other teacher chaperone, Mrs. Dodds, would give me the evil eye.
"Why?" Molly asked. "He's only trying to learn."
Mad-Eye grunted, "We'd find out if you all would stop interrupting."
'Monster,' Lisa thought, frowning. 'Mrs Dodds… that sounds familiar.'
Mrs. Dodds was this little math teacher from Georgia 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 Harley?" Fred and George asked in unison.
"It's a motorcycle company," Lisa answered. "One of my friends…" She trailed off, thinking about Leo.
"What's wrong?" Sirius asked.
Lisa glanced up at him. "Nothing, Dad. It's just… one of my friends was obsessed with motorcycles. All machines, really."
"Was?" Tonks asked.
"He died a couple weeks ago."
She had come to Yancy halfway through the year, when our last math teacher had a nervous breakdown.
From her first day, Mrs. Dodds loved Nancy Bobofit and figured I was devil spawn.
"Nah, that's Nico," Lisa said.
"Who's Nico?" Hermione asked.
"Friend of mine."
She would point her crooked finger at me and say, "Now, honey," real sweet, and I knew I was going to get after-school detention for a month.
"That should be illegal!" Fred shouted.
George nodded. "I agree, Feorge. That is inhumane."
"Quiet!" Mad-Eye shouted, causing everyone to jump.
"Oh, shit!"
"Lisa!" Molly scolded.
Lisa grimaced. "Sorry. I just realized something. I'm sure it'll explain."
One time, after she'd made me erase answers out of 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."
Lisa sighed. Really, Grover? Way to blow your cover.
Sirius looked concerned. "What does he mean, not human?"
No one answered him.
Mr. Brunner kept talking about Greek funeral art.
Harry snorted. "Cheerful, isn't he?"
Finally, Nancy Bobofit snickered something about the naked guy on the stele, and I turned around and said, "Will you shut up?"
It came out louder than I meant it to.
Ginny sighed sympathetically. "It always does."
The whole group laughed. Mr. Brunner stopped his story.
"Mr. Jackson," he said, "did you have a comment?"
My face was totally red. I said, "No, sir."
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?"
"Who would eat their kids?" Molly asked, frantic.
"Don't worry, Mrs Weasley," Hermione said. "They're myths, not fact, though I don't know why this is so important."
"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 —"
Lisa snorted. "Really, Perce? King God?"
"Well, what is he?" Arthur asked.
"King Titan," Lisa answered. "The titans came before the gods and were the children of Gaea—" she made a face "—and Ouranus."
Fred snorted. "Ouranus?"
Lisa grinned. "I know. He definitely should've chosen a better name."
"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 dad, Kronos, into barfing up his brothers and sisters—"
Hermione made a face. "Gross."
"Can't argue with that logic," Tonks stated, looking a bit disgusted.
"Eeew!" said one of the girls behind me.
"—and so there was this big fight between the gods and the Titans," I continued, "and the gods won."
Some snickers from the group.
"Why are they laughing?" Bill asked. "He got it right."
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 applications, 'Please explain why Kronos ate his kids.'"
"She's got a point," Remus said. "There aren't many professions that this can come in handy for."
"And why, Mr. Jackson," Brunner said, "to paraphrase Miss Bobofit's excellent question, does this matter in real life?"
"Busted!" the twins stage-whispered.
"Busted," Grover muttered.
A few people laughed at the similarities.
"Shut up," Nancy hissed, her face even brighter red than her hair.
At least Nancy got packed, too. Mr. Brunner was the only one who ever caught her saying anything wrong. He had radar ears.
"Like Minnie!" Sirius announced, gesturing towards his old professor.
"Mr Black," she said sternly, "how many times have I told you not to call me that?"
Remus answered, "A lot, certainly."
"Shut up, Moony." Sirius glared at his friend.
"Moony?" Fred perked up. "As in Moony-"
"Wormtail-"
"Padfoot-"
"And Prongs?" George finished, the two looking at Sirius and Remus expectedly.
Harry grinned. "Yep. They're the Marauders. As in the Marauders map."
"What's this 'Marauders Map'?"
Lisa answered, "It's a map of Hogwarts showing everyone in the castle, where they are, and what they're doing. It also has the secret passageways."
McGonagall's lips thinned, and she glared at Sirius, who was trying (and failing) to look innocent.
"Let's keep reading," Remus said quickly.
I thought about his question, and shrugged. "I don't know sir."
"I hope he does now," mumbled Lisa. "If he doesn't, then he's even stupider than I thought."
"Stupider is not a word," said Hermione.
Lisa shrugged, not really having a response. Arguing with Hermione was never a good idea.
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 to pieces with his own scythe, and scattered his remains in Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld. On that happy note, it's time for lunch. Mrs Dodds, would you lead us back outside?"
"Happy note?" Mrs Weasley asked.
Lisa snorted. "Mr Brunner's not the best at changing the subject."
"We can tell," the twins said simultaneously.
The class drifted off, the girls 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 that was coming.
"Is he a seer?" Fred asked.
George shrugged. "I guess so, dear brother."
I told Grover to keep going. Then I turned towards Mr Brunner. "Sir?"
Mr Brunner had this look that wouldn't let you go – intense brown eyes that could've been a thousand years old and had seen everything.
Lisa hummed. "Observant."
"What do you mean?" Sirius asked.
Lisa smirked. "I'm sure it'll come up."
"You must learn the answer to 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 only accept the best from you, Percy Jackson."
"Bit harsh, don't you think?" Ron asked.
I wanted to get angry, this guy pushed me so hard.
"It's for the best," Lisa said, smiling sadly.
Harry looked at her curiously. "Why would a bunch of old myths be so important?"
Lisa didn't answer, so Hermione continued reading.
I mean, sure, it was kind of cool on tournament days, when he dressed up in a suit of armour and shouted: "Wha 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. But Mr Brunner expected me to be as good as everybody else, despite the fact that I have dyslexia and attention deficit disorder and I had never made above a C- minus in my life.
"A C-?" Hermione asked, sounding scandalized.
"The only class I ever really passed was Latin," Lisa said. "Though I never really tried."
Hermione turned to her. "Why not?"
Lisa shrugged. "Guess I never expected to live that long."
"Why wouldn't you live that long?" Sirius asked, sounding like he didn't want to know the answer.
"Granger! Read!" Snape snapped, earning a glare from Sirius.
Hermione squeaked and continued,
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 correctly.
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.
"Maybe he had and is secretly immortal," Ron joked.
Lisa tried to cover her surprise at that. How did he…?
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.
"Ah, New York traffic," Lisa sighed. Gods, she missed New York.
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.
Lisa rolled her eyes, muttering about hissyfits.
Nobody else seemed to notice. Some of the guys were pelting pigeons with Lunchables crackers. Nancy Bobofit was trying to pickpocket something from a lady's bag, and, of course, Mrs Dodds wasn't seeing a thing.
"Sounds like Snape with Malfoy," Ron muttered, causing Harry to snicker quietly.
Grover and I sat on the edge of the fountain, away from the others. We thought that maybe if we did that, everybody wouldn't know we were from that school – the school for loser freaks who couldn't make it elsewhere.
"Detention?" Grover asked.
"Nah," I said. "Not from Brunner. I just wish he'd lay off me sometimes – I mean, I'm not a genius."
Lisa snorted. "Truer words have never been spoken."
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?"
The group laughed, and Lisa shook her head fondly. "Oh, Goat Boy."
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.
"I don't think anybody can," Lisa said, grinning.
Sirius frowned. "I don't think I like the idea of you being close enough with a boy to know his mother."
Fred smirked. "Ah, is there anything going on there, Lees?"
Lisa wrinkled her nose. "He's basically my brother, and Sally's door is always open for anyone who needs a place to stay."
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 a motorized café table.
I was about to unwrap my sandwich when Nancy Bobofit appeared in front of me with her ugly friends – I guess she'd gotten tired of stealing from the tourists – and dumped her half-eaten lunch in Grover's lap.
Lisa scowled. "Leave him alone, or I'll send you to my step-father."
"You have a step-father?" Hermione asked.
"Oh, yeah," Lisa answered. "He's… nice, I guess." Lisa highly doubted that anyone had ever described the Lord of the Dead as 'nice', but oh well.
"Oops," she grinned at me with her crooked teeth. Her freckles were orange, as if somebody had spray-painted her face with liquid Cheetos.
"Thanks, Perce," Lisa mumbled. "You just ruined cheetos for me."
Snape glared at her. "Ms Black, will you shut up?"
"No thanks," Lisa said.
I tried to stay cool. The school counsellor 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!'
Mrs Dodds materialized next to us.
Some of the kids were whispering: "Did you see –"
"– the water –"
"– like it grabbed her –"
"That doesn't sound possible," Hermione said, frowning.
"Gods, how did we not figure it out sooner?" Lisa asked, laughing a bit. They had been so oblivious to the fact that Percy was so obviously a son of Poseidon, all because of an oath that had already been broken.
"Figure what out?" Ron asked.
Lisa simply waved his question away, and Hermione continued,
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 –"
"I know," I grumbled. "A month erasing textbooks."
"No!" Fred cried. "Never guess your punishment!"
"That's the worst thing you can do after being caught!" George exclaimed.
"And how would you know that?" Molly asked.
Fred and George exchanged a look. "Lucky guess?"
Molly was not impressed.
That wasn't the right thing to say.
"No kidding!"
"Come with me," Mrs Dodds said.
"Wait!" Grover yelped. "It was me. I pushed her."
"Grover seems like a good friend," Ginny said.
"Yeah, he does," Harry agreed.
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."
Grover looked at me desperately.
"It's okay, man," I told him. "Thanks for trying."
"Honey," Mrs Dodds barked at me. "Now."
"Ooh, someone's in trouble!" the twins chorused.
Lisa turned to them. "You have no idea."
Nancy Bobofit smirked.
"Bitch," Ginny muttered.
Molly looked at her daughter, shocked. "Ginevra!"
"What?"
I gave her my deluxe I'll-kill-you-later stare. I then 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?
Hermione frowned. "That's odd."
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 counsellor told me this was part of the ADHD, my brain misinterpreting things.
"I'm not so sure," Tonks remarked.
I wasn't so sure.
A few people laughed at the similarities.
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.
"Why is Grover so worried?" Arthur asked.
Snape sneered, "We'd find out if you would all shut up."
I looked back up. Mrs Dodds had disappeared again. She was now inside the building, at the end of the entrance hall.
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.
Lisa snorted. "'Course not, Fish Face. That'd be way too easy."
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.
"That's not suspicious at all," Harry said sarcastically.
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.
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.
I did the safe thing. I said, "Yes, ma'am."
"There's no safe thing in this scenario, Perce," Lisa said.
She tugged at the cuffs of her leather jacket. "Did you really think you would get away with it?"
"Away with what?" Ron asked.
The look in her eyes was beyond mad. It was evil. She's a teacher, I thought. It's not like she's going to hurt me.
I said, "I'll – I'll try harder, ma'am."
Thunder shook the building.
"Stupid drama queen," Lisa grumbled, not to say that she was particularly impressed with her step-father's actions, either. Honestly, hadn't they ever heard of diplomacy?
"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."
"Less… pain?" Ron squeaked. "What does that mean?"
"Nothing good, I'd imagine," Harry said.
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 realized I got my essay on Tom Sawyer from the Internet without ever reading the book and now they were going to take away my grade. Or worse, they were going to make me read the book.
"That's horrible!" Hermione exclaimed.
Lisa rolled her eyes. "'Mione, he's got dyslexia. That makes it nearly impossible to read."
"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 shrivelled hag with bat wings and claws and a mouth full of yellow fangs, and she was about to slice me to ribbons.
"Uh-oh," Fred and George said, wide-eyes.
Then things got even stranger.
"How is that even possible?" Hermione asked.
Lisa sighed, "You have no idea, 'Mione."
Mr Brunner, who'd been out in 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.
"What the bloody hell is pen going to do?" Sirius asked.
Molly shot him a glare. "Sirius, watch your language in front of the children."
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 any more. It was a sword – Mr Brunner's bronze sword, which he always used on tournament day.
"How…?" Remus trailed off. "Nevermind. I'm sure we'll figure it out."
Mrs Dodds spun towards me with a murderous look in her eyes.
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.
"If there wasn't so much left in these books, I'd assume he was about to die," Sirius said, ignoring the looks sent his way.
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. Hisss!
"How did he do that?" Hermione asked.
"I suppose we'll find out, won't we?" Ron said.
Hermione frowned in slight annoyance. She didn't like not knowing things.
Mrs Dodds was a sand castle in a power fan. She exploded into yellow powder, vaporized on the spot, leaving nothing but the smell of sulphur and a dying screech and a chill of evil in the air, as if those two glowing red eyes were still watching me.
Harry shivered, reminded of Voldemort's eyes.
I was alone.
"What about Mr Brunner?" Arthur asked.
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 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."
Sirius's brow furrowed. "Who?"
I said, "Who?"
No one laughed. They were too worried about Percy and what had just happened.
"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.
"How is that even possible?" Hermione asked, but nobody had an answer, because it shouldn't have been.
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."
"Why is Grover lying?" Harry asked.
Thunder boomed overhead.
I saw Mr Brunner sitting under his red umbrella, reading his book, as if he'd never moved.
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."
"Mr Brunner, too?" Tonks asked.
I handed it over. I hadn't even realized I was still holding it.
"Sir," I said, "where's Mrs Dodds?"
He stared at me blankly. "Who?"
"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 Mrs Dodds at Yancy Academy. Are you feeling all right?"