The war was over, Gaea was back in the dust, and Percy could finally get some well needed rest. He couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life in peace, living in the Roman town with Annabeth, occasionally visiting the rest of his friends. It was go...
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The next morning after my first detention with Umbridge passed in a haze. After I came back from the devils lair the previous night I had not had time to practice Vanishing Spells, had not written a single dream in my dream diary, and had not finished the drawing of the bowtruckle, nor had I written my essays. I skipped breakfast to scribble down a couple of made-up dreams for Divination and was surprised to find Ron sitting next to me in the same exact situation.
"How come you didn't do it last night?" I asked, as Ron glanced wildly around the common room for inspiration. Ron, who had been fast asleep when I got back to the dormitory last night, muttered something about "doing other stuff."
"That'll have to do," he said, slamming the diary shut, "I've said I dreamed I was eaten by a goldfish! She can't make any predictions out of that!"
We hurried off to the North Tower together for Divination."
"How was detention with Umbridge yesterday?"
"Fine!" I replied quickly, not feeling the need to go more in depth. I had hoped that Ron would drop the subject but come on, it's Ron after all.
"Really? What'd she make you do?"
I hesitated for a second. "Lines."
"Oh then, it's not that bad. I thought she'd make you clean all the toilets on the second floor or something like that."
"Yeah, it's not bad at all."
We walked on in silence for a couple of minutes before Ron remembered something.
"Hey, I forgot, did she let you off on Friday?"
"Nope." We had already gotten to the base of the Divination tower.
"Really?" Ron groaned, "Even after you admitted that You-Know-Who was a figment of your imagination?"
"Yeah. I guess she just likes to see me suffer."
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It was another bad day. I realized that those were starting to pile up more than the good. I was one of the worst in Transfiguration, not having practiced Vanishing Spells at all. I had to give up lunch hour to complete the picture of the bowtruckle, and meanwhile, Professors McGonagall, Grubbly-Plank, and Sinistra assigned even more homework which I knew I wouldn't be able to finish, not with Umbridges second detention.
To make matters worse, Angelina Johnson tracked me down at dinner again and, upon learning that I would not be able to attend Friday's Keeper tryouts, told me she was not at all impressed by my attitude and that she expected players who wished to remain on the team to put training before their other commitments.
