Hello, little midgets! That's right, I'm updating!! Yay!!!!!!

And I'm not doing Percy's dream, cause I'm a troll. HAHAHA.

The problem is, I don't know how good or bad this will be. I still have writer's block. So this will probably be a filler.

WAIT. I JUST GOT AN IDEA. MAYBE THIS WON'T SUCK. Hopefully not.

READ ON, MY LITTLE MIDGETS!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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Third Person POV

Connor Stoll crept behind Draco Malfoy with his brother, Travis. They had just planned their latest prank, which they knew would top the golden mango prank.

Okay, maybe not that. But this one was still pretty good.

The two brothers were waiting for a chance in which they could slip the draught of Living Death into Draco's drink. Then they could . . . finish their prank which they weren't going to tell anyone.

Okay, Annabeth had found them trying to steal blueprint paper from her to write out their prank and they'd been forced to tell her. But she'd promised that she wouldn't tell anyone. What could go wrong?

Well, a monster could attack them in the middle and they could get hurt. But let's not think negative.

For once, Draco wasn't with his cronies. But that only meant that they had limited time before he reached them.

Travis turned to Connor . "On three," he whispered. They counted down and when they got three, Connor popped up and put on a smile, though had a look that suggested that something was on Draco's face.

"Hey, would you like me to get you some water?"

The ferret — ahem, pureblood narrowed his eyes at Connor. "Who are you?"

"Connor Stoll, son of Hecate," Connor said as he remembered that they had to make sure that Draco trusted them. If Draco knew they he was a son of Hermes he might not trust them.

"Okay," Draco decided, "It would be nice to have a servant around here. And I'm thirsty." He handed Connor his canteen of water, and the son of Hermes had to try extremely hard to not smile. Eventually, he pulled it off with a friendly smile.

"Dude, you're not?" the pranker asked, with a curious look on his face.

"Not what?" Draco snapped. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, never mind," Connor said, dashing off.

Travis met up with his little brother when Draco couldn't see them anymore. "I have the potion-draught-thingamablobber."

Connor shot his brother a disapproving look as he filled up Draco's canteen. "Dude, people said that in 2010. This is 2015. Get with the times."

Travis ignored his brother and took out the "potion-draught-thingamablobber." He poured it in once Connor had finished pouring the water. The two brothers grinned at each other and raced back to where Draco was standing with an annoyed look on his face.

"That took seven minutes! It should only take five! And who is this?" he asked, nodding toward Travis.

"I'm Travis Stoll, Connor's older brother. Also the reason Connor took long. Sorry, I was annoying him," Travis lied skillfully with a friendly smile.

"Hmmph." The Slytherin sneered at Travis as he took his canteen. He opened the top and drank from it.

"Hm," he said, "Tastes like syrup." Then he fell asleep, and Travis whooped.

"You got the Sharpie?" Connor asked, patting his pockets to find out that he didn't know where it was. 

Travis grinned as he took out the red Sharpie that would contrast greatly with Draco's pale skin. Uncapping it, he wrote on the sleeping boy's face: I am not a pureblood.

Connor grinned at the writing. "Now, we hide him in a ridiculously easy spot to find him." They first looked around to see that no one was watching, which they weren't because this was a quieter spot. Then they picked up the boy and hid him in his tent.

Travis was jumping around from excitement. "Let's go to see where Draco's cronies are."

The two brothers quickly found his "friends." They walked along, talking loudly so they would notice them.

Sure enough, they did, and Pansy Parkinson screamed, "Hey! Muggles! Tell me where Draco is! He's late!"

Connor and Travis turned swiftly, miffed at being called muggles. "Were you talking to us?" Connor asked politely, which really wasn't his style.

"Yes, Muggle!" Parkinson barked. 

"Woah, how about this," Travis said, raising his palms. "How about we make a truce. You stop calling us Muggles, and we help you find Draco. And by the way, we aren't Muggles. We're demigods, which means we're children of the gods. And we saw Draco by his tent, getting in and yawning. Maybe he's taking a nap."

"Okay, then. Move along!" Parkinson screeched. They walked over to where Draco's tent was.

Pansy immediately ran to it and screamed, "Draco!"She ripped open the tent flap-door and saw the writing on his face.

Draco's four cronies stared at the writing (A/N I'm including Blaise).

"Draco," Parkinson whispered, "You're not?" She turned to the two brothers, Connor and Travis. "You did this!"

"No!" The two boys exclaimed, throwing their hands into the air in a hands up way. "We didn't do it!"

Parkinson, Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise Whatever-his-last-name-was performed a countercurse on him, together, and Draco sat up, groggily. "What happened?"

He glanced toward his friends. "Hello, people. Pansy, can you help me up?"

But Pansy just stared at his face, mortified. "Draco," she repeated, "You're not?"

Draco frowned. "I'm not what?"

"A PUREBLOOD!!!" Pansy screamed.

Draco shot her a look. "Of course I am. What made you think I wasn't?"

"THE WRITING ON YOUR FACE!!!!!!" She screamed again, handing him a pocket mirror.

Draco flipped it open and stared at his face. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" He screamed. "GET IT OFF!" He was now swatting at his face.

Connor and Travis made a quick escape and laughed outside the tent.

"That . . . was so . . . funny!" they chocked, rolling on the ground. They collected themselves and called the rest of camp to the site and soon, everyone was rolling on the floor.

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The powah of fillahs.

-da dam author