Apparently, in summer school, every day is a week. The class is on Western Civilization, which I love, don't get me wrong, but I have to listen to five hours of it a day, with an additional four to seven hours of homework. Great way to spend the summer! Still, I promised myself that I would get this chapter up by the fourth of July, and I kept my promise.

Happy early fourth of July to everyone in the states and happy Wednesday to . . . roughly ninety-five percent of the world's population.

Enjoy!

It was around mid-February when things took an interesting turn. Nigel and Dennis came running up to Annabeth that morning. The two looked excited enough to wet their pants.

"We've found it!" they declared proudly.

"Found what?"

"The spell! We got Granger to give it to us."

It took Annabeth a moment to realize what they were talking about. "Really? That's great! How did you find it?"

"It was all my doing, really," said Nigel, earning a kick in the shin from Dennis. "I convinced Granger that I wanted to learn more complex spells. And low and behold, she began going through her notebook going through spell after spell - -"

"She also has a picture of Weasley in there!" added Dennis, smirking.

Ignoring the last part, she replied. "Good work, Dennis."

"Good enough for a promotion?" he asked hopefully.

"We'll see."

"Okay, this is the last straw! I am not going to stand any more of your absurd antics, Nott!"

"Malfoy, here's a thought. Why don't you mind your own business for a change?" asked Blaise, walking in on the conversation.

"Shut up, Zabini! And don't think you're off the hook either. I saw what you did!"

The other boy rolled his eyes. "Oh joy. What did I do this time?"

"What did you do? You SNOGED A BLOODY GRYFFINDOR!"

"Frobisher? She's rich, pretty, and pureblooded. Why do you care?"

"Oh, I don't know . . . because she's a GRYFFINDOR!"

"Malfoy, you may want to stay out of Zabini's love life," Nott suggested, "people will start to get ideas . . ."

"I'm surprised you would even dare to show your face at this point, Theodore," Malfoy said, sticking his nose in the air. "You are disgrace to the wizarding world. You as well, Zabini. And I refuse to talk to either of you ever again."

"Sounds good to me," mumbled Blaise.

Draco glared at the other boy before exiting the room.

Zabini rolled his eyes in Malfoy's direction. Once he was sure the other boy was gone, he flung himself onto the sofa, putting his feet up on the table. Nott looked at him in disgust, which he promptly ignored.

"So," Theodore said casually, glancing at the corner of the room. "The trampoline's gone?"

"Yeah. One of the seventh-years claimed it was 'disrupting their studying' and ratted it out to Umbridge. She made Professor Snape get rid of it this morning. Serves the bastards right, putting up a bloody contraption like that in our working space. . ."

"I seem to remember you had a fine time with the 'bloody contraption' last night when you were bouncing on it for three hours."

Zabini cringed. "Okay," he said, "let me make one thing clear: I was not bouncing on it for fun. My foot had fallen asleep and I was attempting to get the feeling back in it."

"Sure you were."

"So, what were you doing that got Malfoy so worked up, anyway?"

Nott held up the novel he was reading.

"The Iliad," the other boy read aloud. "Okay . . . what's the problem with that?"

"Malfoy, being the lovely person that he is, decided that whatever I did was his business. This book that I happen to be reading is a muggle book. In Draco's head, this makes me a traitor, for he simply cannot understand why I would ever do such a thing."

"Well why are you doing it?"

"THAT is none of your concern, now is it, Mr. Zabini?"

". . . I guess not," was the other boy's reply, being smart enough not to argue with Theodore. He turned to leave.

"Where are you going?"

". . . The library."

"Perfect," he took out an envelope from his pocket. "Deliver this to Miss Chase, will you? Don't bother reading it. It's not in English and it has a curse attached to it for anyone who isn't Chase who reads it."

"Um . . . sure. What's it for?" he was met with a dark look. Suddenly, he felt indignant. Why should he allow himself to be pushed around by this boy? "Why can't you deliver it yourself? You have two legs that aren't broken!"

For a mere moment, something changed about Nott's expression. The stoical, calm boy was gone. For a moment, he looked upset, even ashamed. Ashamed? What would Nott have to be ashamed about? It was then Zabini had his epiphany. "Oh," he said, somewhat thickly. "Don't worry about them. They're just kids, what do they know?"

"It's not them I'm worried about. It's Malfoy. He wants to pretend he's proud of it. He wants to take his goons and put on a show about how wonderful it is what his father is doing! That his father is a DEATH EATER!" Nott was surprised to find himself actually screaming towards the end of his mini-rant.

Uh-oh. Nott was becoming the last thing Zabini would expect of him: emotional. Blaise knew what was coming next, he had had his share of girlfriends after all, and was not in the mood to listen to a sob story. So he did what he always did around a time like this: he bolted. "I think Tracy's calling me. WHAT'S THAT, DAVIS? YOUR CAT SWALLOWED WHAT? Gotta go. Sorry, Nott."

That left Theodore alone with the letter.

"You're late," Annabeth announced as Seamus Finnigan walked into the library. She did not even look up from her book to know who it was. She could tell by his clumsy footsteps. "Again," the girl added for emphasis.

"Sorry," the Irish boy mumbled, taking his seat across from her. " . . . So," he said after a slightly awkward pause. "What do we have today?"

"I already finished my work while you were off with your friends."

"Sorry," he said again, this time sounding a little more sincere and even somewhat embarrassed, although he tried not to show it. "I was just . . . the time got away from me," it was odd, but he was a bit intimidated by the little girl's appearance. No, not quite intimidated. Disgruntled, perhaps.

"Look," said Annabeth, "I'm glad that you made up with your friends. But you are not getting school credit to hang out with them, and this is the third time you were late this week." Wow, Annabeth mused silently, I sound like a teacher.

Seamus seemed to notice this too. "Yes, Professor Chase," he replied. There was another pause. " . . . So, um, if you're finished then I guess we can call it a night." He stood up to leave.

"Wait," said Annabeth. "Can we . . . talk for a bit? Not about school."

"Um . . . sure, I guess." Finnigan returned to his seat. "What do you want to talk about?"

"What happened in The Quibbler? Everybody's talking about it and I haven't been able to get my hands on a copy. Banned things are always popular."

"Well, Potter was interviewed by the infamous reporter, Rita Skeeter, a real ***** by the way - - sorry, but she is - - anyway, Harry gave her a detailed story of his encounter with You-Know-Who last year. You know about that, right?" She nodded. "And he gave her the names of the Death Eaters, which is a big deal for the Ministry which is trying to cover everything up."

"But I thought you said - -"

"I was . . . wrong."

"So that's why everyone was attacking Nott . . . " she mused. "His father is a Death Eater!"

"I thought you didn't read the article."

"I haven't. Vaisey told me."

"You're still friends with that bloody Slytherin?" Seamus shook his head. "No comment."

"Technically, no comment is a comment."

"No comment."

"Chase!" said a voice. It was Theodore Nott.

"Speaking of the devil," Seamus muttered. "What do you want, Nott?"

Theodore promptly ignored him and continued his conversation. "Here," he gave Annabeth the note. "It'll explain everything. Meet me at the place tomorrow night."

"Look, it's him!" shouted a second-year Gryffindor girl.

"It's the boy whose father is a Death Eater!" said her friend.

"Let's get him!"

"Gotta go, Chase. Remember: tomorrow night. Don't forget."

Ooh, what does Nott want? Can any of you guess?

HP Fact: Rupert Grint owns an ice cream van, but cannot legally sell to the public because he "didn't feel like doing the paper work".

Random Fact: Israel is the only country in the world that had more trees at the end of the twentieth century than at the beginning.

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