Chapter 7 - Partners in Crime

Author's Note:

Hi everyone, long time no see.

MY EXAMS ARE DONE!

Oh, I am so glad. Then again, I have to wait for results in mid-August, so maybe not worth hopping around in excitement.

Anyway, here's the next chapter. It's a bit short, but a few more plot-lines are introduced in it and some of you have got your wish of seeing more classes and demigods-in-Hogwarts scenes.

Urs-v: Thank you for your repeated input. I'll be sure to use all that data soon. Just as soon as the plot is ready for it :)

Finwitch1: Oh yeah... I hadn't thought of that. Hm, I doubt Flitwick could guess they're demigods, but maybe as part goblin he can tell something's off about them, sure. I'll think on it and expand on it next chapter; thanks for that!

Thorn : Thanks for your three reviews! Yes, I realised the bit about Argus after I posted the chapter. But I was thinking more on a human level. I mean, even Aphrodite is a cool name for a goddess, but anyone naming their child that has got - er, issues.. right? Thank you so much for your comments though :)

AutumnLeaves03: You'll see :-P Thanks!

Laonasa Enllyn Avery: That is a beautiful pen-name, and a heart-warming reaction, thank you!

Longhour: Glad you thought so, I definitely will. I have the whole summer now!

Fanfic-a-holic: That was such a lovely review; I'm grinning now even writing about it! I'm happy you like that aspect of this fic; it's something quite a few people have commented on. I'll be sure to keep that up :) Not quite sure if I ever wrote that quote you cited though; maybe it's from another fic? In any case, the very fact you wanted to quote something back at me is gratifying, so thank you!

A Guest Reader/Apple Pie/Stefanovskyellis: We've communicated :) I'll be sure to include all of that once it fits. Please can I ask you something, though? Could you re-send that last email with your answers in it? I seem to have accidentally deleted it, and I can't find it anywhere... Ugh, I hate my clumsiness. Thank you :)

Guest: Good :)

Seaweed Princess of the Fandom: You have your wish :) Thank you so much. Hope to hear more from you soon...

Gopercabeth: ...You'll see... I'm sorry, I'd just rather not get into that just yet!

NOTE: Please, if you were wonderful enough to leave a review and I don't address everything you've said, or even at all, it's not that I'm ignoring you, it's just that your comment probably had something to do with the future plot, and not something I want to divulge on just yet. Sorry, if that wasn't previously clear enough. In any case, I'm grateful and touched at any comment whatsoever, so please know that I greatly appreciate any review, favourite and follower.

So, here goes:

At lunch, the demigods ate and socialized, alternately smirking at each other in response to Umbridge's glares (they had followed through their plan to all sit at the Ravenclaw table) and swapping accounts about their first day of lessons thus far. Rumour had already spread about inferi mice haunting Flitwick's classroom, and since their group was in no immediate danger of eavesdropping, Nico confirmed his role by nodding silently when his friends raised their eyebrows at him.

Percy slapped him on the back and told him he'd make a prankster yet, while Annabeth looked torn between amusement and horror at the thought of him using his powers so publicly. Her eyes shot daggers at him throughout the whole meal, but Nico ignored her. Percy didn't blame him - he was getting weary of the constant top-secrecy lectures too, and it wasn't like they were going to mess it up, right?

Right. He thought so too - or told himself he did.

They separated again after lunch to attend their respective lessons. The sixth-year Gryffindors went outside for their first Herbology lesson. The weather had deteriorated to wet and cold drizzle, and the fine rain somehow managed to detect every single hole and defect in their uniforms, until Percy didn't think he'd ever experienced such helplessness in face of water-permeation. A passing Hufflepuff, hearing them grumbling, sympathetically told them that this was Scottish weather eighty percent of the time. At their horrified faces, the boy laughed and pulled out his wand. He waved it at them, muttering an incantation, and a second later the demigods were warm and dry. They hurried under a greenhouse and thanked the boy loudly over the sound of rain hitting the glass panes.

"Ah, no worries." the boy said with a grin. His voice had a slight burr to it, and at some words even sounded vaguely American. "I'm Patrick O'Donnelly, but call me Paddy. I'd say I'm ashamed to have forgotten your names, but I'd be betraying my house's values."

He laughed, and the demigods joined in. He seemed very friendly, and they weren't shivering anymore, which was definitely a plus.

"I'm Percy. These are Jason and Thalia Grace, my friends."

"How do you do?" Patrick said, holding out a hand to shake. "So if you're so shocked at a few drops of rain, weather must be pretty different in America?"

Percy scowled at the steel-grey sky and muddy grass.

"Yeah. You could say that. No wonder the Romans gave up on this place."

Paddy chuckled.

"Yeah, them ole' Picts drove them off. Lucky the bastards never really reached us Irish folk either, though."

Jason scowled slightly, but Thalia was confused.

"Why not? I thought the Romans conquered the whole of Britain when the Empire was still at its full strength."

"Well yeah, but the Scots and the Irish always gave them more trouble than they were worth. The Romans stuck to England and a few islands - actually even a bit of Ireland at one point, but instead of the gold they were looking for they only got sheep, grass and mud."

"Nice." Percy remarked. "Maybe they didn't appreciate rural chic back then."

"No, they were more into orgies, paved roads and vomitariums, with occasional crucifixion on the side." Paddy said amiably. "Explains a lot, I must say."

"Explains what, preci-" Jason began testily, but Thalia elbowed him in the ribs.

They reached Herbology a minute later than the other students, but were instantly forgiven because, notoriously, they were newbies and were having trouble finding their way. Patrick was even awarded twenty points for acting as their guide, at which point Percy smirked. Word had it Snape favoured his Slytherins, but clearly favouritism could be attributed to other, less serpentine individuals as well.

Herbology was fun, in a hands-on, muddy sort of way. Percy was sure the Demeter kids at Camp would have loved this subject, but he decided he personally wasn't too enthused by sentient prickly plants that had a habit of sneaking up behind you to wind their tendrils through your hair. The first time it happened to the demigods, Jason had to chop off several branches to avoid Thalia's short black locks being torn from her scalp. He was promptly scolded by Professor Sprout (whose name confirmed Percy's theory that whoever invented wizarding names either had an evil sense of humour or no imagination at all) because apparently, the Peruvian Crown of Thorns was a rare and highly valuable plant.

The next time the plant snared one of her victims (a wincing Percy), Jason made sure to distract Sprout first while Thalia dealt the coup de grâce.

All in all, Percy, Jason and Thalia were quite content to leave an hour later, with mud encrusted under their fingernails and stray thorns occasionally scratching their scalps, but with a feeling of satisfaction that came from knowing that they had, at least, done some good work.

Next came Divination, and Patrick carefully explained how to find the North Tower.

"Go all the way up to the seventh floor, then ask for the knight, Sir Cadogan. Once he gets worked up, follow the carnage and you'll end up right at the tower."

They said goodbye and followed his instructions, though it took them over ten minutes because climbing seven long staircases was only slightly less tiring than swimming up a waterfall with a Cyclops on your back, urging you on with a club.

Speaking of clubs, Percy noticed as soon as they arrived, panting and leaning against the walls, the only painting visible on the landing was a field of grass, with a small grey pony munching away and a stout man in armour pounding at small black shapes in the grass. It was a moment before Percy realised what he was doing: like in a nineties video game, the knight was hitting small moles on the head with a club studded with nails, getting slower at it every second and panting with exertion. Fortunately for the moles, the knight didn't have great aim, and Percy could have sworn they were giggling as they popped in and out of their burrows.

At last, the knight gave up and threw his mace down, flopping down on the grass and removing his helmet, revealing a ruddy face with heavy jowls and a brow streaming with sweat.

"We...feel for you, dude." Percy gasped at the knight, massaging a stitch in his side.

"How...do...other students...survive?" Jason panted, collapsing with his back to the wall and heaving huge breaths.

Of the three of them, Thalia was faring the best, though she was still breathing heavily. No doubt running around as one of Artemis' Hunters had toughened her endurance. Right now, Percy sort of wished a god had had the same bright idea of gathering boys and organising long runs in forests with archery equipment. It seemed all those hours of questing and training in the arena had paid off in muscle and skill, but not nearly so much in cardiovascular performance.

The knight was still panting too.

"To what...do I owe...the displeasure of seeing...your pox-faced visages, you...scoundrels?" he gasped out, heaving himself up by leaning on his mace, nearly toppling over in the process and making his rusty armour screech in protest.

Thalia raised an eyebrow.

"We heard there was a knight in need of a quest." she replied coolly. "Though I can't see any, can you? Too bad rude soldiers can't help us."

The knight puffed out his chest in pompous indignation.

"I? I, a common soldier? A pox on your thrice-cursed dormice, young mistress! I have the honour of being Sir Cadogan, Knight of the Blessed Gauntlet!"

He snatched off his left gauntlet, which appeared to be held together by string, and waved it in their faces.

"The honour is all ours." Thalia said, bowing mockingly low. "Tell me, O Knight of the Rusty Bedraggled Glove, where can we find the North Tower?"

"A quest, you say? Very well, 'tis my duty to honour the poor and aid the innocent! I mean... to defend the poor and honour the women and children! No...Hmpf - to protect the innocent, defend the women and children...- er, well, to help people in general, anyway."

"Lead on, then." Jason urged with a wave, trying not to smirk too much.

They followed the knight as best as they could through several more passages, guided by angry yells from outraged portrait occupants as Sir Cadogan charged through their backdrops, alternately yelling insults or singing off-tune verses from medieval ballads about dragons in distress and fire-breathing damsels.

At last, they arrived, red-faced and panting. Many other students were already present, though they looked unsurprised to see Cadogan suddenly galloping around the walls of the tower, challenging various students to duels before being knocked off his little steed by a low tree branch in the painting of an orchard.

Desperately trying to keep straight faces, the three demigods solemnly thanked him for his help and promised they would come to him again for any further quests.

"- if they ever involve lessons in tripping over your own feet." Percy muttered as the knight hobbled away, chasing after his fed-up pony.

Before any conversations could start with the other students, a ladder descended from a trapdoor above them, and it was with several sceptical looks that the demigods followed their classmates up into the Divination classroom. They emerged in a large but stuffy and overcrowded room covered in overstuffed pouffes, low tables, shelves that threatened to collapse under the weight of many delicate ornaments, heavy drapes and incense burners.

Thalia coughed as she straightened up from the ladder, looking around in barely-disguised disgust.

"Well, well. Looks like we found the lair of a magpie." she remarked, fanning her hand around her head to dissipate the heavily fragrant smoke of frankincense.

"Welcome back, my dears." said a misty voice from the darkest corner of the room. Percy peered through the smoke and could just about make out a woman's shape detaching itself from the dark backdrop.

The woman came into the light and slowly ambled towards the demigods, steering her skirts around the cramped furniture in an expert manner that suggested she spent the majority of her time doing so.

Percy didn't think Thalia's comment about magpies was entirely accurate after all. Their teacher, for it was undoubtedly she, more resembled an overgrown jewel-encrusted owl, so draped in necklaces, baubles and shawls was her thin frame. Her eyes were magnified two or three times their probable size by large and very thick glasses that reminded Percy of Myrtle the ghost. The Cercopes would have the time of their lives relieving her of her valuables.

All in all, not an entirely pleasant thing to have making a beeline for you, and Percy gulped as she got closer and rose an accusing finger at them.

"You..." she breathed, widening her eyes dramatically. "I have foreseen your coming... Your friends' as well, of course."

Percy felt his heartbeat quicken. What did this woman know? What had she foreseen? Did she know about the prophecy that brought them here?

"I - uh..." he stuttered.

"You're not... from California, are you?" she asked suddenly, her large eyes still not blinking nor leaving his face.

"Um, no." Percy answered, unsure if she was testing him or not.

"Ah," she murmured, "I thought not. From Ohio?"

"No."

"Precisely, as I had Seen. Texas?"

"Afraid not."

"No matter. Even the Inner Eye can be unclear, at times... You don't have any relations in Mississippi, by any chance?"

"Not that I know of." Percy answered, certain now that she was making this up. He relaxed slightly. He knew how to deal with frauds: play along until they made a mistake, then pounce and reveal them for the monsters they usually were (mythological monsters, that was, not necessarily psychopaths or serial killers - although some monsters they'd met certainly did qualify in all fields).

"Ah... interesting." the teacher murmured.

Percy desperately wanted to make eye contact with his friends to communicate his mild revulsion of this creepy teacher, but the woman's steady gaze made it almost impossible for him to break it. At last, she blinked and the slightly clouded texture of her gaze sharpened until she almost looked normal.

"My name is Professor Trelawney." she said, opening her arms slightly in a vague gesture of welcome that was probably meant to be gracious. "Please take the table by the window, for I have foreseen that you will be less distracted there."

"Yeah, right," Jason muttered as soon as she'd drifted off and they were safely out of earshot. "More like this is where we're less likely to die of incense fume inhalation."

"Or of an overdose of 'Enrapture-Me' tea." Thalia joined in, squinting as she read the label off one of the many pots on nearby shelves.

As the lesson went on, Percy increasingly got the impression that the whole thing was a joke of questionable taste. Professor Trelawney's clairvoyance was evidently a sham, and even Octavian had more sibyllic talents than she had. Her lesson consisted, so far, of using tarot cards to predict next week's weather. They had a chart to record their findings, and would also apparently be using them in the same lesson in seven days' time to corroborate their results with reality.

"Just a simple task to ease you back into the flow of things." Trelawney demurred, floating past them before tripping on a student's bag.

"Are you all right professor?" the bag's owner in question drawled. "Sorry, I thought you'd have foreseen that. Hang on, let me move it-"

"No matter, Mr Finchley." Trelawney snapped in a much sharper voice than the misty tones she'd used so far. "Next time you presume to question the Inner Eye you will lose points, I can predict you that."

"How many?" Percy found himself asking, looking at her directly.

Trelawney turned to him, her bug-like gaze landing on his face with disapproval bordering on disdain.

"One cannot presume to know all the intricate complexities of the future, Mr Jackson." she sniffed.

"Then what's the point of all this?" Percy asked, gesturing at the cards. "Weather's one the most difficult things to predict, especially in Northern Europe. Too many things factor into the calculations: atmospheric pressure, temperature, the direction and speed of the winds - you can't make precise predictions out of that. Most mort- most muggle TV presenters get it wrong anyway."

Trelawney straightened and gathered her shawls around her, her eyes now shooting daggers at the son of Poseidon.

"This is no muggle science, Mr Jackson. This is Divination; a branch of magic so obscure and in need of such... subtlety," her expression turned scornful and her thin lips twitched in what was almost a sneer, "that even the most gifted Seers cannot hope to understand it fully - least of all those who disrespect its power."

"Okay." Percy replied, nodding as though he were in perfect agreement with her. "I'm sure you won't mind making a small demonstration, then. You see, I'm not actually sure I understand it at all, really. Perhaps you can show me how it's done?"

The whole class was watching by this point, and Percy had not dropped his polite, pleasant tone - which for him, considering his academic background, was something of an achievement. Trelawney was still facing him, stiff as a rod and immobile, but he had backed her into the corner and she knew it.

A second later, their teacher unfolded her arms and manically readjusted her necklaces.

"Certainly," she answered, her voice misty once more. "We shall even be able to corroborate the results this very day, my dears. The closer the events, the clearer the omens, and so I shall attempt to See what weather we will be having until this evening."

The sky they could see out of the window was iron grey, and though it had stopped raining since their Herbology lesson, the grounds were no less wet and muddy.

Professor Trelawney ceremoniously shuffled her own pack of tarot cards before carefully drawing them one at a time and placing them on the white tablecloth of the demigods' table. The whole class was silent, and looking around Percy noticed some students exchanging sceptical glances and eye-rolling. Clearly, Trelawney's act was transparent to all except herself.

When every card she had drawn was perfectly in line with the others, Trelawney overturned the first one and held it up for all to see.

"The Fool." she called out. "Symbol of optimism, calm and happiness."

She turned the second.

"The Star," she said, "a card of Hope."

She turned the third card.

"The Sun. An obvious meaning." She turned the fourth and final card. "The Judgement. Changes for the better. A new beginning."

She smiled widely. "My dears, I think we can expect these clouds to flee before supper. By nightfall, the sky will be clear and Professor Sinistra will have excellent conditions for star-gazing."

Percy started to clap. Slowly at first, and perhaps a tiny little bit mockingly, but he sped up and before long everyone else was joining in. Trelawney looked flustered, and she nervously rearranged her jewellery again for a few moments before regaining her seat to almost thunderous applause. Had she dared to actually look at her students, she would have seen the amused smirks exchanged and the raised, expectant eyebrows.

"Now, now." she said, her voice low and modest. "It was a simple task. Settle down please, no need for excitement."

Class resumed, though Percy turned his face away from Trelawney and gave Jason and Thalia a meaningful look. Thalia smirked, while Jason winked and grinned.

"On it." he muttered.

Half-an-hour later, with less than ten minutes left of the lesson, the wind suddenly picked up, leaves hit their windows with a slapping wet sound, and the sky darkened to the shade of blunt steel. The howl of the wind suddenly made it difficult to hear Trelawney's voice, and it gathered such force that a window across the room crashed open, letting in a torrent of rain and small hailstones. The unfortunate girls who were sitting under it shrieked and shook the water from their hair as their neighbour leapt up and closed the window with a spell.

Far away, lightning flashed and a few seconds later thunder sounded. Trelawney looked confused and crestfallen, though that may have been due to the drenching of the pack of tarot cards that had been sitting on the wet girls' table.

Meanwhile, Percy cast a side glance at his friends. Jason was clenching his pen, staring blankly at his parchment. His brow was knitted into a frown, and his hand shook slightly with suppressed effort. Next to him, Thalia was muttering very quietly to herself while keeping her gaze fixed on the window that had opened, a similar expression on her face.

"Settle down, settle down!" Trelawney called out. "It's only a storm, no cause for alarm."

"I don't think we'll be stargazing tonight though, Professor!" Percy shouted out over the din of howling winds and muttering among the students.

Trelawney shot him a black look, but otherwise ignored him. Percy grinned. Some people just could never admit they were wrong.

"What? Too uncertain for you to See? A storm like this one, though... you'd think it would do the polite thing and warn ahead!"

Percy reminded himself a second too late that his mouth was not to be trusted to speak of its own accord around teachers. In his defence, he truly had not had the best experience with teachers and mentors and the like, but something told him he had just crossed a line, and apparently Trelawney thought so too.

Five minutes later, he was hurrying down a corridor without the slightest idea where he was going, clutching a piece of paper he had no idea what it said (although he had suspicions) and on his way to seek a teacher he had no idea where to find.

All in all, he was pretty much up Minotaur Dung Creek.

He checked his watch, saw that he only had three minutes before his next lesson, and started to panic slightly. Annabeth would not be pleased. He could already hear her reproachful voice.

One. Day. Percy Jackson, your first real day in the wizarding world and you couldn't keep out of trouble for a few hours?

Wincing in anticipation, Percy hurried down another corridor that vaguely looked like it was going in the direction of McGonagall's office, according to what he could remember from the previous day's exploring. A minute later he heard shouting not far off, and it sounded like the shouter was severely pissed off.

"-leave me ALONE!"

Percy jogged in direction of the voice and emerged into a similar passage, where a familiar-looking boy was yelling at tiny man floating in the air. The hovering dwarf-like figure was wearing a shirt in loud orange and pink stripes and bobbing around the boy's head, singing nonsense and dodging as the boy struck at him in fury.

"Oh, most think he's barking, the potty wee lad, But some are more kindly and think he's just sad, But Peevesy knows better and says that he's mad —"

The boy looked ready to rip the man's throat out, so Percy took it upon himself to intervene.

"Hey! Don't you have a Horror Style fashion show to attend?" he called out at the bobbing man, who promptly did a back-flip and twisted in the air to contemplate his newest victim.

"Ooooh, it's Prissy Pussy Percy Johnson!" he cackled. "Lost your friends?"

"It's Jackson." Percy corrected, so used to Mr D's deliberate mistakes by now that he didn't even sound annoyed. "Leave him alone."

The floating clown-like figure shrugged and blew a huge raspberry at him, casually tossing an ink bottle at his head before vanishing with a pop.

Percy nimbly dodged the ink and turned back to the student, only to meet the suspicious eyes of Harry Potter.

"Geez, what was that?"

"Peeves." Harry answered shortly. "The school poltergeist. Nothing works against him, except one of the ghosts."

"Huh. Interesting." Percy looked at the ink splattered on the floor. "Er, I don't really know how to clean that up..."

Harry shrugged and pulled out his wand. With a wave and a muttered word, the ink was gone.

"Cool." Percy said, genuinely impressed. "I want to learn that spell." It would be wickedly useful in quests whenever they happened to be covered in mud, monster dust or, more rarely, blood.

"It's a fourth-year spell." Harry said, his gaze still guarded. "Haven't you...?"

Percy shrugged.

"Nah. Not much one for housekeeping."

Harry made a sound like he could sympathize, but at that moment the bell rang and he looked annoyed again.

"I have to go somewhere," he muttered. "See McGonagall. I'll see you around."

"Oh, great. I'll tag along. I've been sent to see her too, but I have no idea how to navigate in this damn castle."

Harry's lip twitched.

"Yeah, I got pretty lost at first too. What d'you need to see McGonagall for?"

Percy grimaced.

"Got mouthy with Trelawney. Bejewelled, crazy old fraud."

Harry smirked, but his gaze darkened.

"You too, huh?" Percy guessed. "Who?"

"Umbridge." Harry spat out the name like it was poison.

"That bad? I knew she was no good. It's the clothes." Percy decided, shaking his head firmly.

Harry's lips stretched faintly again.

"And the voice."

"Oh, definitely. I keep expecting to see her do a cutesy sing-along like Snow White and her birdy friends-"

"I keep expecting her to catch flies like a toad." Harry said, shuddering.

Percy laughed. "You too? Well, a very toady Snow White singing along with her forest friends, then. Probably mentally planning how to torture them later too, I expect."

Harry laughed, and for a moment the anger left his features. When he stopped, the anger did not return, but his expression was one of depressed tiredness, and he looked almost sad.

"What happened?"

Harry's jaw muscle twitched.

"She called me a liar, and basically what I said last night, only she's ignoring the fact that Cedric Diggory was murdered."

"Cedric? Who's that?"

"The guy who was with me when - you know, Voldemort returned."

"He... He was murdered, and she's acting like it was all an accident?"

Harry scowled. "Pretty much."

Percy whistled.

"No wonder you got mouthy. I would've facilitated her passage to Tartarus, myself."

Harry looked confused. "To where?"

"Erm..."

"Potter? Jackson! What are you doing, loitering around here?"

They had reached McGonagall's office, and the witch herself was leaning out of the doorway, clutching a sheath of papers, as always. She looked surprised at their presence, and not altogether pleased.

"We've been sent to see you, Professor."

"Both of you?" her eyebrows raised.

"Er, well we kinda met on the way-"

Without waiting for more, Professor McGonagall waved them in, shutting the door behind them as they entered. Percy immediately felt more nervous. He didn't like it when exit routes were cut off, least of all when they were nice and obvious, like doors.

"Well? Explain yourselves."

Percy gave her Trelawney's note and briefly explained what had happened in Divination (though obviously he left out everything about actually causing the storm). He felt slightly ashamed as McGonagall stonily listened to his account, her lips as thin as ever.

When he fell silent, it was a few moments before she spoke.

"When I welcomed you to this school yesterday, Mr Jackson, I somehow got the impression that I had made our expectations of you clear."

Percy avoided her gaze, his cheeks warm with shame.

"You are extremely fortunate to be attending Hogwarts, and while it was my feeling yesterday that you and your friends were fully aware of that, it appears I may have been wrong."

She fixed him with a cold glare.

"I am not often wrong, Mr Jackson, so please do not make this one of those times."

Percy bit his lip, and nodded, still not meeting her gaze.

"Look at me."

He did so, trying not to wince.

"I expect only your best behaviour from now on. We accept only the best, and only the best you shall be. That includes performance, grades, and behaviour. If I get the slightest hint that you are once more flouting our rules, do not expect any further leniency."

Percy nodded, trying to pour all his sincerity into his expression. Under his teacher's steely gaze, he suddenly felt the urge to fall at her feet and beg her forgiveness; for having dissed Trelawney, for having lied to her from the start, for having stolen all of Jason's socks and dyed them pink back at Camp. Her facial expression suggested that he better not speak too much however, so he kept silent and hung his head instead.

"Fortunately for you, Professor Trelawney has written here that she only wished for you to be set back on track, so you have escaped - for the time being - detention." she informed him, scanning the note in her hand. "As for you, Potter... What are you here for?"

"Professor Umbridge sent me, Professor." Harry said stiffly, handing her a pink roll of parchment, which Percy could tell reeked of roses even several paces away.

Professor McGonagall gingerly took it from Harry's fingers with a downward curve of her lips and magically slit it open. Her eyes zoomed across the lines, and her eyebrows tightened with every passing second.

"Well, is it true?" she snapped, once she'd finished.

Harry scowled. "Is what true?" he asked, probably more rudely than he intended. "Professor?" he added, more politely.

"That you disrupted Professor Umbridge's class? That you shouted at her and called her a liar?"

Harry's jaw twitched.

"Yes."

McGonagall threw the note in the air above her and made a strange noise, between a sigh of exasperation and an annoyed tut. She sat in her chair and removed her spectacles before rubbing the bridge of her nose. She appeared to be thinking through what she was going to say, her eyes flicking between the two teenagers like she was measuring the value of keeping both of them in the room.

Finally, she seemed to make a decision and sighed, leaning forward. When she spoke, her voice was low and concerned.

"Listen to me, both of you. Dolores Umbridge is not one to take vexation lightly. Strike at her again, and she will not let it by."

Percy felt flummoxed at her inclusion of him in this matter.

"But Professor, I never-" he started.

"But Professor, she's lying!" Harry cried, the anger back in his voice. "She's refusing to see the truth about Voldemort-"

"For goodness' sake, Potter!" McGonagall cried, rearranging her spectacles (they'd fallen off again in shock at Voldemort's name). "This isn't a game of who's lying and who isn't! It's about keeping your head down and getting on when it's the thing to do!"

Harry fumed.

"That's what Sirius told me. Tell me Professor, is that what happened last time? When Voldemort was killing wizards and muggles left and right, were the rest of us waiting to see what was going to happen? Was that Dumbledore's plan of action? Was that what my parents and Sirius did?"

McGonagall rose from her chair, resting her knuckles on the desk in front of her.

"Do not reopen closed wounds, Potter." she warned. "These days they are irrelevant, and could lead you where you have no wish of going. What matters right now is that some people are seeking to pick at your every flaw and weakness, trying to expose you as something you are not. You know who Professor Umbridge is, you know who she works for."

Harry said nothing, though more out of speechless fury than acceptance, Percy thought.

"For the last time, you need to be careful." Professor McGonagall repeated. "That goes for you too, Jackson. There are forces out there beyond your imagination-"

Percy snorted. That, there certainly was.

"-and ignoring them will almost certainly have disastrous consequences."

"Why won't people believe me?" Harry ground out. "They have Dumbledore's word for it, and mine, and half of the Order's-"

"Potter, use your common sense!" McGonagall snapped. Her suddenly intensified gaze carried a second meaning, and glancing at Harry, Percy could tell it was a warning. A warning not to say too much. "People don't want to believe You-Know-Who is back. It's been over thirteen, peaceful years, and they don't want that to suddenly disappear."

"Percy believes me." Harry shot back, rather unexpectedly. "He's not even from around here, he had no cause to believe a word I say about what happened that night in June, but he believed me when he heard about it."

McGonagall cast Percy a strange look, one that seemed to say many things at once.

"Then Mr Jackson's realism does him credit." she said after a beat. "In the meantime, either be quiet around Umbridge, Potter, or find a way to force all of them to believe you."

Her tone was one of dark sarcasm, but Percy found himself wondering if that last idea was actually possible. If the Mist could be used to that effect... Or better still, if Piper could open everyone's eyes (and ears, incidentally) by projecting her charmed voice worldwide...

"You are dismissed." McGonagall told them when neither of the boys said anything in response.

They turned to leave, but a second before Percy could leave through the door after Harry, McGonagall called after him.

"Mr Jackson, one more moment of you time, if you will."

He turned and faced her once more. In the increasingly dim light of the fading afternoon (and the storm that was still raging on), her stern face made her look older than she probably was.

"You may be wondering why you were privy to this conversation. Need I make clear that you are not to repeat a word of this to anyone who may find fault with Mr Potter?"

Percy noted the careful wording, and after a second or so he realised with surprise that she was giving him permission to tell whomever he trusted. He nodded.

"I...think I understand, Professor."

"Good." she said crisply. "Run along, now."

Percy turned to leave and put a hand out ready to turn the door handle. He paused, and looked back at his teacher.

"There's a reason you let me listen to all this... right, Professor?" he asked.

She glanced at him over the edge of her spectacles.

"Why Mr Jackson, why ever would you think that?"

Percy smiled very faintly, extremely confused, but grateful and full of renewed respect for this formidable witch.

When he stepped outside, Harry was waiting for him.

"Well that was fun." Percy commented lightly. "Not my idea of passing time to good effect, though."

"Why do you think she let you stay when she was telling me off?" Harry asked without preamble.

Percy shrugged, nearly as clueless as he was.

"Maybe to return the favour. You were there when she shouted at me."

"But your problems have nothing to do with Voldemort coming back to power." Harry insisted.

Percy cast him a sideways glance. I really wouldn't be too sure of that, if I were you, he thought.

"I don't know, Harry." he said with a sigh. "I've gotta go; lessons and all. See you around, yeah?"

Percy held up his hand in a fist. Harry looked at it, mildly confused.

"Oh, you bump it. Like this." Percy gestured for Harry to make the same shape, and gently bumped his fist into the other boy's own.

"Is that how you say goodbye in America?" Harry asked, sounding a little amused.

"Not exclusively. It's mostly a gesture of friendship." Percy said, shrugging.

Harry's eyebrows raised slightly in surprise. The guarded expression Percy had noticed the night before, and just before seeing McGonagall, was back.

"Ah, don't worry." Percy assured him hastily. "I'm not trying to get close to the Boy-Who-Lived 'cause it's you, you know. It's just... It's what me and my friends do all the time."

The guarded expression faded. Harry smiled faintly and bumped his fist against Percy's of his own volition. "I can live with that. See you around, Percy. Keep a lookout for toads."

"You got it."

As he watched his new friend walk away, the bit of Percy's brain that was still tingling with the whole McGonagall-episode was suddenly hit by a suspicion that - he was sure - would've occurred to Annabeth the moment it appeared.