Percy Jackson and the Locket of Salazar

22) New Newspaper Brings New News (and Paper)

Life at Hogwarts was not at all like what it had been in previous years. The workload was so much that I considered dropping a class or two (though I didn't, because that meant more free time, and I didn't want to be given the opportunity to think about anything), and, for the first time, Hermione was confused and needed to ask for professors to repeat themselves. The only subject none of my friends were struggling with was Potions, and that's thanks to the old textbook Harry was so proud of (Hermione hated it). For me, Potions was much the same. I made potion with the class sometimes, but for most lessons, I would work on my own potion, growing closer and closer to completing it.

Non-verbal spells were becoming the norm, and not just in Defense Against the Dark Arts. I was getting better at it without the threat of a creative spell from Hermione hitting me, but most of the class was still having difficulties. Everyone was constantly rather red in the face, struggling to perform the spell while keeping their mouths shut. Everyone suddenly really liked Herbology, because it was the only class in which they wouldn't get in trouble for blowing up and cursing loudly, but only if they got grabbed by the Venomous Tentacula from behind.

One result of the workload was that my friends couldn't find the time to visit Hagrid. He was moping more and more in class and had stopped eating meals at the staff table.

"We've got to go and explain," Hermione said one day, looking sadly up at his empty seat.

"We've got Quidditch tryouts this morning!" Ron groaned. "And we're supposed to be practicing that Aguamenti charm for Flitwick. Anyway, explain what? How are we going to tell him we hated his stupid subject?"

"We didn't hate it!" Hermione cried.

"Speak for yourself, I haven't forgotten the Skrewts." Ron scowled at the memory. "And I'm telling you now, we've had a narrow escape. You didn't hear him going on about his gormless brother — we'd have been teaching Grawp how to tie his shoelaces if we'd stayed."

"That was my favorite lesson, actually," I said seriously, though judging by Ron's glare, I hadn't said it seriously enough.

"I hate not talking yo Hagrid." Hermione frowned deeply.

"We'll go down after Quidditch," Harry said. "But trials might take all morning, what with the number of people who have applied. I dunno why the team's this popular all of a sudden."

"Oh, come on, Harry." Hermione shook her head. "It's not Quidditch that's popular, it's you! You've never been more interesting and, frankly, you've never been more fanciable." Ron choked on his breakfast, Hermione looking at him with disdain before turning back to Harry. I patted Ron comfortingly on the back. "Everyone knows you've been telling the truth now, don't they? The whole wizarding world has to admit that you were right about Voldemort being back and that you really have fought him twice in the last two years and escaped both times. And now they're calling you the 'Chosen One' — well, come on, can't you see why people are fascinated by you?"

Harry seemed to have taken a keen interest in the ceiling.

"And you've been through all that persecution from the Ministry when they were trying to make out you were unstable and a liar. You can still see the marks where that evil woman made you write with your own blood, but you stuck to your story anyway..."

"You can still see where those brains got hold of me in the Ministry," Ron said, shaking his sleeves and displaying his scars for us to see.

Hermione ignored him completely. "And it doesn't hurt that you've grown about a foot over the summer, either."

"I'm tall," Ron said.

"That you are," I said, hoping to offer a bit of comfort. I knew he understood that he'd never be allowed some of what he wanted due to being an Oracle, but that didn't mean he didn't want it, and he'd been pining after Hermione since he discovered she was a girl in the fourth year.