As more time passed in the Scottish lands, Hogwarts became ever increasingly perplexing to Percy Jackson. He'd put time and effort into trying to succeed here, focused on trying to tame his attention problems (well as best as a hyperactive delinquent child could do), and overall felt like he was settling in. Yet he always had a strange feeling when walking around the grounds, the hair on the back of his neck would prick up at odd times, and yet he had no understanding of why this happened. 

He felt that he had a good connection with his teachers, a connection that definitely wasn't due to them not immediately hating him on sight like literally every other of his teachers did, nope definitely not because of that. Here, his teachers understood him, or at least seemed to. They didn't treat him as though he was an outcast, they didn't constantly bother him for his spacing out in class, or the times he'd run his fingers across his desk. They were by no means happy with this, but they could at least respect his adversity.

Before he had his first potions lesson, he just assumed that this was the standard for all teachers at this school. Guess his talent with spell casting didn't extend to his ability to think.

As he first entered the potions room, or dungeon as it should be more aptly named and probably was named, a chill ran up Percy's spine. It wasn't due to any nefarious means however, it was just a really cold room. As he shivered slightly, he heard the door to the room slam open, rocking the jars of pickled animals suspending in the air, with the force of it. Heading towards the front of the class, Professor Snape leaked an aura of respect, or at least something which screamed, "Fear me". Either way it allowed him to control the room of his students. 

He found his seat next to Hermione, a row behind Harry and Ron, and quietly unpacked his things as the class settled down. The class did so much quicker than usual, but that's to be expected when you have a figure like Professor Snape glaring you down.

He started off his class like most other teachers had done, with a register, and roll called everyone's name. He barely spoke whilst doing so, his voice never raising beyond a whisper as he went further and further down his list. 

Everything went smoothly, for a while, but as he reached Harry's name, he paused. His lips twitched ever so slightly, a slight sneer forming, before being wiped from his face before any took notice. 

His soft voice spoke, "Ah, yes, Harry Potter. Our new ... celebrity."

Muffled snickers sounded to the right of Percy. Draco and his thugs not so subtly covered their mouths in an attempt to cover up their laughter. 

Percy's mind ran so wild as he envisioned putting Draco in his place, that he missed the first part of Snape's monologue. He can't deny that the vividity of his imagination left a sour taste in his mouth, being snapped back to reality and confronted with the limitations of the legal system and thus his inability to truly act against Draco, was a truly upsetting thought. 

"... don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses ... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death -- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach." Finished off Snape, his speech silencing the few remaining conversations. 

Well that's certainly a good point to tune back in, thought Percy. Magic was a truly enthralling notion, and now he was being told he could use it to stop death, it was the proverbial icing on the cake. 

It seemed like almost everyone was having similar thoughts to him, if the silence hanging over the room was anything to go by. He saw Hermione straighten beside him, and lean forward into her seat, at the mention of dunderheads. Guess she wants to prove Snape wrong, thought Percy.

It wasn't long after this that Snape showed his true colours. 

Calling out to Percy's friend, Snape said, quite suddenly, "Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

It became abundantly clear just how little work Harry had put into learning the material needed for his first year. The boy looked practically gormless as he looked towards Ron, whose face was a near mirror of Harry's own.

Hermione was the only one in the class who seemed to know the answer, as her hand shot straight into the air. 

Snape payed her no interest however, and his lips once again curled into a sneer when Harry admitted to not knowing. 

This back and forth carried on, with bezoars and wolfsbane thrown into the mix. Each time Harry would be stumped, and Snape would overlook Hermione. 

Harry mouthed off a little, and Percy couldn't say he wouldn't be tempted to either, but it did end up with Gryffindors being docked points which was a pretty big bummer. 

Moods didn't lighten as the class progressed. After the initial quick fire questions aimed at belittling Harry were over and done with, Snape went on to explain the process for creating a simple cure for boils, before splitting everyone up into pairs. 

Most potions started off okay, but it soon grew plain to see that certain pairings didn't work. 

Percy was paired with Draco, and it was safe to say his opinion of the boy wasn't raised in the slightest. He would have leapt at the chance to work with even Neville in hindsight, who was practically terrorising Seamus with his clumsiness.

No, not even a melted cauldron, or a failed potion that caused boils to spring up on contaminated skin, was enough for him to say Draco Malfoy was a better partner. 

It wasn't that Draco was a poor student, in fact he came across as quite educated to Percy, but the arrogance and pomposity that he excreted was enough to make anyone wish for angry red boils. 

Percy discovered that he was a natural with potion making. He didn't know why, as his ingredient preparation was anything but good. He first tried to argue his case to Draco, by stating he didn't have the patience for surgical cuts, but Draco was having none of it. 

As he said, "This way, if we fail, I have an excuse." He had a point to be fair. There was no chance Draco was getting the blame over a Gryffindor if the potion failed or even if Percy refused to do it. The blame would never fall to a Slytherin in this classroom, and Percy would most likely get a detention for refusing to do work.

Resigned to doing all the work, Percy carried on, cursing the house of Malfoy. 

He didn't understand how the potion was turning out correctly though. For all his labouring, he just couldn't manage to slice thepigs ears into similar sized pieces. Looking down at each ingredient floating softly in the boiling cauldron, even Draco was amazed at how it hadn't gone completely wrong yet, it was just as if whatever Percy wanted the potion to end up as, it was going to end up as. 

That didn't stop Draco from taking the spotlight when Professor Snape made his rounds. Draco, the boy who had been sat back on his stool, talking about inane garbage with Crabbe (or maybe Goyle, too hard to tell them apart), and hadn't lifted a finger to help, was praised by Snape. Snape didn't even acknowledge Percy's efforts into creating the potion.

It irked Percy to no end, and he had half a mind to sabotage their (his) potion in his rage. His mind stirring ever increasingly wrathful, he didn't fail to notice his potion start boiling again. 

Blinking his eyes, and as his new curiosity as to how it could boil while off the flame cleared his mind of anger, he focused on the potion again and saw the liquids inside calm. 

Puzzled, he carried on with his instructions, and added the porcupine quills to his cauldron. 

Trick of the light. Has to be!

It wasn't until he saw everyone jumping up onto their stools, that he realised someone screwed up. 

Hopping onto his stool like everyone else, he glanced down at his shoes like his classmates were doing and was pleasantly surprised to see his shoes hadn't had their soles eaten away, unlike everyone else's. He must not have been in the liquid long enough for it do any sort of damage, he thought, as he stared into the purple liquid seeping through the cobbled cracks of the old floor. 

Glancing around for the culprit, he found that he didn't have to look too hard to see a drenched Neville, moaning in agony as boils appeared all over his arms and legs. 

He was about to jump down to try and help him, before he saw the teacher heading this way. 

"Idiot boy!" came the snarled respinse from Snape, as he cleared the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Percy quickly glanced back at his cauldron, making sure his was off the fire, before sighing a little in relief.

He couldn't help but wince for Neville. It was a silly mistake, Snape did give out the instructions clearly, but he didn't deserve to be chastised in front of the whole class for it.

He wanted to speak up for Neville, to defend him, but he knew deep down it would be a losing battle. Snape didn't seem like one who was particularly reasonable, and he'd only end up getting Neville into even more trouble. Snape seemed to have a mean streak in him.

The rest of the lesson passed by relatively smoothly, for lack of a better word.

Snape seemed to have the notion that Harry purposefully sabotaged Neville, and kept a close eye on him for the rest of the lesson.

About an hour after the porcupine debacle, Percy met up with Harry and Ron just outside of the classroom door. He'd been with Harry this morning when he received an invitation from Hagrid. At first Percy wasn't going to pry, but when Ron asked if they could go, and Harry said yes, he was growing more and more curious to properly meet Hagrid.

He met him briefly, very briefly on the walk to the castle, with the last interaction being Hagrid warning him about Malfoy.

As the three were about to set off towards Hagrids hut, he spotted Hermione waving at him.

Smiling back at her, he turned to Harry and said, "I'm actually gonna go hang out with Hermione. Tell Hagrid I say hi though, right?"

Harry looked the tiniest bit upset, but nevertheless respected Percy's wishes.

Percy was just turning to Ron to say his goodbyes, when he heard Ron blurt out under his breath, "Why'd you even hang out with her?"

Ron hadn't meant to say it outloud, it just slipped out.

Percy didn't really know how to answer it. He just liked Hermione.

"I dunno. She's funny, and smart too. She likes the same things I like, and she doesn't judge other people who she barely knows." Even though he purposefully didn't include Ron's name for the last bit, Percy knew Ron got the message if his pink ears were anything to go off.

Percy didn't want to start anything though, so he left it at that, said a last "Goodbye." to the two of them and walked over to Hermione, and the two of them set off.

He spared a quick glance over his shoulder, looking back towards his two other friends, before focusing forward.

He knew it wasn't fair to presume that all of his friends had to like each other, but he just couldn't understand why Ron didn't like Hermione. The two barely knew each other, and their only interactions were when Hermione would sit with Percy and Ron would close up a little. He'd still be civil, but nowhere near his usual self.

He liked being able to hang out with Hermione. The two got along like peas in a pod. They'd been walking for a little bit now, giving Percy time to think, and Hermione instantly picked up on his need to be alone with his thoughts and gave him the space.

Shaking himself out of his little stupor, he turned his head to look at his friend, and saw she had a small content smile on her face as they walked.

Laughing a little broke the casual, peaceful air, and caused Hermione to meet his eyes, through the corner of hers.

"Yes?" She asked, fairly inquisitively.

"I don't know, just happy I guess." He smiled back at her.

She stopped walking, her piercing eyes focusing on his confused ones. After about 2 seconds, her eyes flickered downwards to his necklace as a beam of sunlight reflected off of it.

"You know," she started off, as prying as ever, "I've been meaning to ask you about your ring and necklace. Where did you get them from?"

Percy panicked a little inside. He couldn't tell her that they were actually pieces of armour and shielding disguised, could he?

But then again, this was the wizarding world, he wouldn't be surprised if most other wizards with wizarding parents had their own family heirlooms that could magically change shape.

"Well?" She asked again, a bit more demanding.

It was only then that Percy realised he'd spent a minute internalizing her question and debating the answer, and that he was making her grow impatient.

He glanced up at her face, her eyes wrinkled in a confused, but curious manner, and her nose scrunched ever so slightly as she does when she's deeply trying to figure something out.

There was a glimmer of faith in her eyes, that instantly made him trust her. He knew how much she appreciated their relationship because she was just like him and he appreciated it a lot.

His eyes flickered around them, looking at the different witches and wizards wandering around, thinking about how best to put it.

Hermione could sense from his body language that he was just finding the right way to tell her, but it didn't stop her from being unable to wait. Curiosity was just in her nature.

"They're not actually what you think they are," started Percy, before he realised that sounded stupid and that he probably should get to the point, especially with Hermione.

"What I mean by that, is that they're armour disguised to look like what you see. I don't quite know how it works, but when me and my mom went to my vault, we just saw these magnificent pieces of armour, shields and weapons. And when I tried to touch the ones I like, they shook and bright light shone from them, before they transformed into what you see. Well the weapons turned into this..." he trailed off as he fished his coin out of his pocket, his hand brushing past his pen.

If Percy had x-ray vision, he'd be positive he would be able to see the cogs whirring away inside Hermione's head.

For her credit, and his relief, she seemed like she believed him straight away which saved him the awkwardness of trying to prove it whilst not knowing how to get his accessories back in their original form.

"You're lucky. My parents are both muggle, and so were their parents and so on, me being a witch was a shock. We didn't have a vault already, so we had to set one up. There's not much in it now, but there will be. I just wish I had fancy magic heirlooms in mine. I guess I've got to make sure their is for my children now." In typical Hermione fashion, she spoke probably a word or two a second quicker than she should do, but her enthusiasm was equal parts endearing and informative.

"With how well you're doing in lessons, I'm sure you'll be able to make the coolest things to leave for your kids." While she in no way seemed down about not having the camouflaged armour, even seeming more excited about being able to fill up her own vault than having a vault already filled for her, Percy still felt it right to compliment her and put to rest any doubts.

She tried her best not to show Percy how much it meant to her that he complimented her, as she doesn't want anybody to think she needs validation, but she couldn't stop the slight smile adorning her lips.

Her new friend Percy was just so kind to everyone, that she was surprised he only had three real friends at Hogwarts. Sure she'd seen him talk and get on with others, but he only ever talked about and hung out with Ron and Harry, if he wasn't with her.

She could tell that he wasn't as much of a happy and carefree guy as he made out to be. There was sadness for all to see in his sea green eyes. Shallowy hidden behind the surface, making his eyes look like a glass that could break at a moments notice.

Often times his smile wouldn't reach his eyes, and she could tell that his thoughts were elsewhere.

She didn't know him nearly well enough to say that he could confide all his secrets to her, even though there was something about him that made her want to just give him a big hug and tell him to let it all out. Perhaps because she knew it's what he'd do, if the situation was reversed.

She knew not to pry though. She knew he wouldn't be comfortable telling her, or anyone for a long time what was truly going on inside his head. But she would be there when he was ready, she hoped.

Because she knew he would want to be there for her, if reversed.