Percy was so deep in thought he had forgotten to stop stirring his cauldron in a counter-clockwise motion. The wooden spatula (Hey, it's all he could find. He decided to wing it... It was that or stirring the Draught of Living Death with his bare hands.) began to make an unnatural sizzling noise.
"Huh, that's new..." Percy mumbled curiously, as he began to lift the spatula up in the air. But before he could, there was a small 'plop' and the entire end of his stirring utensil fell back inside his cauldron. All he was holding was a bare wooden stick with its tip scorched down to a sharpened point (still smoking from the end).
Now Percy knows what your all thinking, why would sweet *note sarcasm* Professor Snape assign this poor boy such an advanced task? Well, that brings him back to the beginning of the lesson...
Annabeth and Thalia had already been seated as he stepped through the stone threshold and into the classroom. Thalia waved for him to come over and sit between the two.
He began walking towards them, carrying his school book tucked under his arm (Dumbledore has been kind enough to inform the teachers that they lacked the required books, and allowed them to borrow from the classrooms) until his foot got caught against Neville's robe. He stumbled few steps forward before waving his arms, which Thalia later described as 'a not-very-graceful duck trying to fly.' His book flew into the air before he toppled face first onto the floor, dragging poor Neville down with him.
"Oh, SCHIST!" he shouted, before bracing his precious face from the floor. Snape raised an eyebrow, obvious caught off guard by his choice of words.
Neville (luckily) was not severely injured. Because he was dragged down a split-second later than Percy, Neville had the convenience of a nice particular-demigod-savior-or-Olympus-cushion. He muttered his apologies before stumbling back towards his seat.
Percy quickly pushed himself off the ground, his hand cupped under his nose at the sense of blood. He then sulked over towards his friends.
Thalia couldn't stop laughing, "Your - your face was PRICELESS! Oh my gods!" before she rolled over laughing and slipped off her bench too.
Annabeth quickly snapped Percy's nose in place with a flick of her wand as she cried out, "Episkey!"
"Oh schist!" Thalia shouted, her fingers desperately trying to get a grasp on the edge of the wooden bench, but didn't succeed. Snape raised an eyebrow again, this time, turning around to face them with a piece of chalk in hand.
"Silence." his monotone voice rung through the classroom, as the two demigods took their seats. He seemed satisfied, and began to face the chalkboard once again.
'SCREEEEEEECH' Percy and the majority of sensible people cupped their hands over their ears. Snape's chalk made a sharp, piercing noise as he began to write in his sloppy cursive. He completed the motion of a large, loopy 'A' before he swiftly moved his wrist to begin writing the second letter.
'SCREEECH' a few Gryffindors began to groan, including Harry as Snape finished writing 'n'
'SCREEEEEEEEEEECH' If looks could kill... Snape would've dropped dead, courtesies from Thalia. A third letter was quickly visible on the board with one last subtle 'SCREECH' as he dashed the 't.'
He began once more, 'SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-'
"Holy schist, I can't take it anymore!" Percy exclaimed as he rose up from his seat, "Mr. Snapple, you have a serious problem with the chalk you've got there. What is it made of, metal?"
Harry snickered, along with the rest of the Gryffindors. Snape sent them a deadly glare before Parvati muttered, 'Snapple' and caused another chain of uncontrollable giggles.
"Mr. Jackson," Snape emphasized his last name, "First of all, NEVER talk out of hand in my classroom," he began storming towards him, some Gryffindors trying their best to scoot away on their benches as he walked by, "Secondly, you shall address me as Professor Snape and Professor Snape ONLY."
By this time, he was towering over him, chalk still in hand and sending Percy a fearsome glare, "And never use such foul language in my classroom," he raised an eyebrow as if daring him to put a toe out of line, "Understood?"
Apparently Percy wasn't good at understanding the gravity of the situation. He took in the information for a few seconds then looked back up towards him, innocently asking, "What language?"
Snape's words were filled with fury as he slowly and dangerously drawled, "I beg... your pardon?"
"I mean, what language did I use... sir?" Percy wore a lopsided grin, obviously enjoying his snide remark.
"Don't play games with me, boy! You may be a guest here, but you still cannot go frolicking around the castle doing whatever you want!" he slammed his hand on the desk, although the chalk still seemed in tact.
"OH! Schist! I get it now..." Percy's eyes widened in realization, "Sir, I should inform you that 'Schist' is form of metamorphic rock (Annabeth taught him a couple fancy words)."
Thalia muttered under her breath, 'Too many dam inside jokes...' before the three tried their best to hold in stifled laughter. At least Annabeth maintained a pleasant smile on her face, the other two couldn't quite contain themselves.
"Correct, Jackson," his voice rose in agitation, "But I should inform you that I will not tolerate another know-it-all in my classroom, or their clever remarks." he quickly glanced towards Hermione and Harry, before he continued to stare Percy down.
Percy rose his hands in surrender, now seated on the bench and no longer standing up, "You have my word sir..."
Snape relaxed as best as he could, and began to turn around, raising his chalk as he began to return to the chalk board. He would've been satisfied with his answer if it weren't for Percy to continue his sentence.
"... I won't say shit."
Snape stopped in his tracks.
The class heard as his chalk was furiously snapped between his fingers.
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Even though Snape quickly regained control of the classroom, there were still a majority of their students trying their best to hold in their laughter. Harry was one of the few who failed miserably.
Hermione smiled, trying her best to look at him seriously, "He really was disrespectful... I can't believe he didn't get away with anything much worse..."
The two stopped mixing their antidote for a moment as they glanced up toward Percy's table. He now sat along in the corner of the classroom, managing to create somewhat of Snape's 'special project,' as he described it. Percy clutched his wooden spatula firmly, as he continued to stir the bubbling cauldron. Or at least with what was left of his spatula...
Hermione and Harry swore it was larger, but the flat end of it presumably fell inside his cauldron. Percy was left with a wooden stick with a tipped, burnt edge.
Then the door opened, immediately drawing the two student's attention elsewhere.
Colin Creevey stepped inside the dungeon, timidly gathering the courage to look Snape in the eyes, "Errr... forgive me sir, but I've been asked to bring Harry and Percy upstairs."
"Well, Jackson and Potter still have an hours left of potions, and I believe Jackson still has to stay a little longer to finish his 'Draught of Living Death'"
Percy wore his usually goofy grin, "Actually sir, I just finished." The spatula, or at least what was left of it, made a slight clattering noise as he placed it aside his cauldron atop the table. He then smiled up towards Annabeth and Thalia, who exchanged similar humorous glances.
"Impossible!" he sneered, "You were stirring far too slow, Jackson, it isn't right at all!" he began to whirl his cape around and walk towards Percy's corner.
He tipped the side of his cauldron ever so slightly to display the still-bubbling substance inside. The Professor froze, his nose crinkled in disgust, "Fine. But they still have to return and finish their work on antidotes."
Creevey shook his head, "They said to bring their stuff, apparently there is going to be pictures and every-"
"Fine! Just go, get out of my sight."
The two boys followed Colin as fast as they could to leave the dungeon.
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Percy and Harry quickly followed behind Colin, as a few Slytherins passing by showed off their 'Potter Stinks' badges in his face. Harry grumbled, as they quickly passed by with an amused look growing along with smug-looking smiles.
"Hey, what do those say?" Percy squinted, trying to read the badges as they passed.
Colin raised an eyebrow, walking backwards for a few moments to face him, "You can't read?"
"Dyslexia... It's hard to read but I'm not blind," he rolled his eyes, obviously a little offended.
Harry sighed, "Malfoy thought it was clever to make these pins supporting Cedric. Only thing is, they sometimes also say 'Potter Stinks.'"
Percy frowned, "Oh..." He to look over to him with pity, but for once, Percy seemed quiet.
Harry broke the awkward silence, "So what's this about, Colin?"
He lifted his hands in the air as he gestured unsurely, the other two only seeing the back of his head, now that he was facing the right direction as he walked, "I don't know... something about a Triwizard Tournament tradition, and the Daily Prophet taking some pictures."
"Daily Prophet?" Percy jumped in, obviously a little confused.
"A newspaper. Merlin's Beard, you've never heard of it?" Colin turned back around, as they stopped in front of a classroom's door.
Percy shrugged, his silence being his only reply as he pushed open the door.
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The two boys stepped through the door into a shabby, tiny-looking classroom. Most of the desks and chairs were pushed up against the far-side of the room and against the wall, but three of them remained facing the chalkboard on the far-right.
Viktor stood in the corner, solemnly nodding as they entered. He did so in acknowledgement, but not in a very friendly manner that Harry would've appreciated.
Fleur and Cedric were deep in conversation, only stopping for a split second so Fleur can brush her silvery hair behind her ear every so often.
That is when Harry noticed the women clutching her crocodile-print purse tightly. Her extremely obnoxiously large curls in her blonde hair didn't seem to match with her strong, square jawline and almost masculine features. She grinned cheekily, showing off her three gold teeth and quickly walked up towards the two.
A second wizard in the corner rose up a camera and took a photograph, blinding Percy and Harry momentarily by the time the woman had approached them.
"Ah, if it isn't all five! I am Rita Skeeter," she held out her hand, giving Harry a curt handshake before turning towards Percy, "You two are just who I want to see! The mysterious, roguish foreigner, and the Boy-Who-Lived. Oh, won't that make a splendid article! Let's start with this young man, shall we?" She gripped onto Percy's shoulder strongly, quickly shoving him into the broom closet.
Harry had to admit, he was quite relieved she didn't ask him to be first.
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Word Count: 1,865