Demigods At Hogwarts | ✓

36-Claiming

HaHA! Early update everybody! And they demigods are finally telling the students who they are!

Leo's POV <-- sorry guys, I couldn't resist!

☆☆ History of Magic ☆☆

Unfortunately I still had to sit next to Drew. I was tempted to bust out my magical duct tape because Drew tended to rant a good deal if she was in a foul mood.

Today was different. She used her quill to scratch her name into the desk like five times before saying, "Hi."

"Hi," I responded. I wondered if I should do the same to my desk. But nobody likes copycats, so maybe I should burn my name into the desk? Oh gods why am I even considering this? I can't just burn—

I burned my name into the desk.

With my wand of course. Not my hands.

Drew turned, "Why does it smell like—" She stared at the burn, "Did you just spell your own name wrong?"

"Whaaaat?" I felt my nose getting ready to burst into flames, and quickly willed it not to happen. I read it again. Looks right to me, and I said so.

"What do you mean it looks right to you?" Drew demanded. "You wrote Vadlez. Does that look right? Or maybe I'm remembering your name wrong."

"Yeah, you're remembering my name wrong."

Drew wasn't convinced, which proved how smart she was, "I suppose your name is actually Leoser Vadlez?"

"Yep. Wait did you say loser—"

"Stop bothering me." Drew turned back to scratching her name.

A few seconds passed. In those seconds Percy choked on his drool and woke up suddenly, "Pi is twenty four over sixteen!"

Glaring, Annabeth said, "No, it's—"

Percy fell asleep again.

"You know," I told Drew. "Most people would be moping around in their room if their sister turned out to be a psychotic murdering maniac and their friend was in the Hospital Wing with a missing body part."

She punched me in the side so suddenly I squealed like a pig.

Drew glared at me, and for a second her eyes looked like flames, "I've already sulked for four hours. And now I'm sick of sulking. Don't say that word to me. ever. again."

"Yes ma'am," I bobbed my head, still thinking about her eyes. Was it because of Aphrodite? Or was her godly parent someone else?

"Hey Drew—"

"Do you want those words to be written on your tombstone?" Drew demanded.

"What?"

"So you're changing your last words to 'what.' Okay then, hold still."

I blocked her punch, "Okay, chillax."

"Ugh," she dropped her hand. Then: "I always wondered. What's written on tombstones? Like do they really put how you die on it?"

"What? You've never seen a grave before?" You can't blame me for being surprised. 90% of the people at Camp had seen one, usually one of someone they knew.

"Of course not," Drew said. "Do I look like a person who knows a lot of dead people?"

I wanted to bring up Logan, but I guess that would just make her sulk.

Drew didn't seem to care that I didn't answer her question. She went back to teaching the desk what her name was.

To simultaneously take my mind off of Drew and Professor Binns, I began to hum Shake It Off, which, in my opinion, is the best song in the whole 1989 album.