Percy Jackson and the Locket of Salazar [Book 6]

33) I Might Yell Just a Little Bit

Since Katie Bell was down for the count, Harry had chosen to substitute Dean in for her.

"I feel bad, but I just don't think Seamus could handle something so... intense right now," Harry whispered as we walked to the Gryffindor common room to study (pretend to study while we gossiped).

"Yeah, maybe." I shrugged, not too worried about any of it. According to Harry, Seamus had looked rather upset when he'd asked Dean to play in the upcoming match. Seamus had tried out and had done quite well — he had son of Hermes reflexes, after all — but he did get spooked easier than he had before. What's worse, he didn't always handle that spookage well.

Seamus knew that, though. It was a common trait of being a demigod, and he wasn't alone. We all had things that set us off, and it couldn't always be helped, even when we wanted to move on from it and enjoy life. I don't imagine Seamus was too upset about not being chosen to sub in — he was probably more upset that he wouldn't be able to sit with Dean at the match.

Dean had been a lifesaver, even if he set my favorite ship on fire by dating Ginny. He had stood by Seamus' side through all that had come at him since arriving at Hogwarts. He'd helped get Seamus out of his shell. He was still openly his best friend and fought anyone who antagonized Seamus for his scars.

"He'll be all right," Ron said, probably thinking along the same lines as me. He had firsthand experience in the world of demigods, and had helped people through much worse than what Seamus was battling with. Also, he had been rather chipper since he and Hermione had talked in Herbology.

All of a sudden, he wasn't chipper at all.

At practice that evening, the nerves got to him. Everyone else was doing exceptionally well, but the looming game between Gryffindor and Slytherin had him spiraling. He let in dozens of goals, most thrown by his sister, and, in his panic, accidentally punched Demelza Robins in the face.

"It was an accident, I'm sorry, Demelza, really sorry!" Ron cried as she flew to the ground, blood everywhere. "I just —"

"Panicked," Ginny spat, peering at her teammate's busted lip. "You prat, Ron, look at the star of her!"

"I've got you, Demelza," I said, pulling out my wand and swishing her woes away with a quick Episky.

"Ginny," Harry started, "don't call Ron a prat, you're not the captain of this team —"

"Well, you seemed too busy to call him a prat and I thought someone should —"

Harry looked like he was trying not to laugh, but while the comment was funny, the sentiments behind it weren't. It wasn't my team, though. If he wanted to let his teammates be mean to each other, that was his call.

"Good work, everyone," Harry said at the end of practice, lying through his teeth. "I think we'll flatten Slytherin." Everyone but Ron left looking rather pleased with themselves.

"I played like a sack of dragon dung," Ron said once the door had shut behind the others.

"No you didn't," Harry said firmly. "You're the best Keeper I tried out, Ron. Your only problem is nerves."

We both did our best to encourage Ron on the way to the castle, including a few comments here and there about a certain hairbrush hitting a certain Titan in the face, so he was a bit happier when we got to our usual shortcut to Gryffindor tower.

He was a lot less happy when we pushed the tapestry to the shortcut to the side and saw Ginny's and Dean's lips fighting in a rather fierce battle.

"Oi!" Ron shouted, scandalized. I looked at him, wasn't too surprised by the anger present in his features, but was shocked by the ugly look on Harry's face.