The first Quidditch Match of the season takes place. Harry and Nico attend their detention with Dolores Umbridge.

Chapter Rating: Mature

Content Warning: Cursing, Violence (mild), Self-Harm

Word Count: 4246

And all the characters are owned by J.K. Rowling, or Rick Riordan.

The Saturday of the first Quidditch match, Percy realized with a jolt that it was already November. He and his friends had been at Hogwarts for two months already, and the quest was nowhere near complete. Percy knew that Nico hated how slow it was going, but, well, Percy liked Hogwarts. Fred and George were nice, Quidditch was awesome, and he didn't have to learn "school" things like math, science, or English. If TVs and computers worked here, Percy would never want to leave.

At breakfast, he approached Angelina about the game. He was just a sub, but Katie had been complaining about a sore throat for the past couple of days; she'd spent the night in the hospital wing with a fever. If she wasn't able to play today, he'd be playing chaser for her.

"Percy!" Angelina found him in the Great Hall minutes into the meal. "Katie's still sick; Madam Pomfrey said she'll be okay, but she needs rest. I've been arguing with Katie for the last ten minutes. She wanted to play, even though she can barely stand. You can fill in, can't you?"

" 'Course," Percy agreed.

Angelina breathed a sigh of relief. "I knew it was a good idea having you on the team. All right, tell the others to meet me on the pitch in twenty minutes. I need to figure out the final details of today's game from Madam Hooch."

Percy did so, then scarfed down a quick breakfast. Excitement and adrenaline pumped through his veins; he was going to play for the first time in front of an audience. The months of training were fun, but now this counted towards something. Just like the difference between Camp Half-Blood and questing. Something was on the line.

Twenty minutes later, Angelina addressed the team before the game. "Okay, I've only just found out the final lineup for Slytherin," she said, eyes on a piece of parchment. "Last year's Beaters, Derrick and Bole, have left now, but it looks as though Montague's replaced them with the usual gorillas, rather than anyone who can fly particularly well. They're two blokes called Crabbe and Goyle, I don't know much about them--"

"We do," Harry and Ron announced in unison.

"Well, they don't look bright enough to tell one end of a broom from another." Angelina put her parchment in her pocket, and looked at Harry with a dry smile. "But then, I was always surprised Derrick and Bole managed to find their way onto the pitch without signposts."

"Crabbe and Goyle are in the same mold," Harry assured her.

Percy could hear everyone entering the stands now. He noticed singing as well, though it was too garbled to make out any lyrics. Annabeth and Nico were up there, ready to watch him either prove his athletic prowess, or make a complete fool of himself. He was hoping for the first option; if he messed up, his friends would no doubt tell the camp, and Jason would never shut up about it.

"It's time," Angelina proclaimed, looking at her watch. "Come on everyone... good luck."

They filed out of the locker room single file, brooms at their sides. Percy still heard singing, but now it was almost entirely drowned out by the cheering and whistling crowd. He saw Annabeth with Cho Chang, waving to him with a smile. Nico stood off to the side of the Slytherin section, earbuds in his ears and looking downright miserable, but he still gave Percy a thumbs up when the son of Poseidon caught his eye.

The Slytherin team entered the pitch, silver crown-shaped badges pinned to their robes. While they were all pretty big and ugly, like Ares kids, none looked half as bright as even Clarisse. Malfoy and his goons looked the smartest among them, and even that was giving Malfoy way too much credit.

This should be an easy match.

"Captains shake hands," Madam Hooch ordered. Angelina and Montague, the Slytherin captain, walked towards each other and grabbed hands. Montague tried to crush Angelina's fingers, but she earned Percy's permanent respect by not wincing. Madam Hooch blew her whistle. "Mount your brooms!"

With another blow of the whistle, Percy kicked off and shot into the sky. Half a second later, the Quaffle and Bludgers raced out of their box, and the game began.

Lee Jordan started speaking into his wand, announcing the game like on TV. "And it's Johnson, Johnson with the Quaffle, what a player that girl is, I've been saying it for years but she still won't go out with me--"

"JORDAN!" Professor McGonagall yelled.

"Just a fun fact, Professor, adds a bit of interest--and she's ducked Warrington, she's passed Montague, she's--ouch--been hit from behind by a Bludger from Crabbe... Montague catches the Quaffle, Montague heading back up the pitch and--nice Bludger there from George Weasley, that's a Bludger to the head for Montague, he drops the Quaffle, caught by Percy Jackson, Percy Jackson of Gryffindor reverse passes to Alicia Spinnet and Spinnet's away--"

Percy heard booing and more garbled singing as Alicia raced towards the Slytherin goal.

"--dodges Warrington, avoids a Bludger--close call, Alicia--and the crowd are loving this, just listen to them, what's that they're singing?"

Lee paused, and Percy heard the lyrics of the song for the first time:

"Weasley cannot save a thing,

He cannot block a single ring,

That's why Slytherins all sing:

Weasley is our King.

"Weasley was born in a bin,

He always lets the Quaffle in,

Weasley will make sure we win,

Weasley is our King."

"--and Alicia passes back to Angelina!" Lee shouted, trying to block out the singing. "Come on now, Angelina--looks like she's got just the Keeper to beat!--SHE SHOOTS--SHE--aaaah..."

The Slytherin keeper saved the goal. A rival chaser had the Quaffle now. Percy raced after it, but he couldn't reach it in time. The ball got closer and closer to Ron...

"Weasley is our King,

Weasley is our King,

He always lets the Quaffle in,

Weasley is our King."

"--and it's Warrington with the Quaffle, Warrington heading for goal, he's out of Bludger range with just the Keeper ahead--"

"Weasley cannot save a thing,

He cannot block a single ring,"

"--so it's the first test for new Gryffindor Keeper, Weasley, brother of Beaters, Fred and George, and a promising new talent on the team--come on, Ron!"

Ron dived and missed; the Quaffle soared through the middle hoop, and the Slytherins started to cheer. Percy glanced at Nico, but he couldn't make the son of Hades out from so far away. Was Nico cheering for his house, or booing for Percy?

Probably isn't even paying attention.

Percy laughed under his breath at his own thoughts. He needed something to laugh at, after Ron's mistake.

Game's still young, Jackson. Just focus, we can still win this.

"Slytherin score!" Lee announced. "So that's 10-0 to Slytherin--bad luck, Ron..."

"WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN,

HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN,"

"--and Gryffindor back in possession and it's Percy Jackson taking up the pitch--"

The singing was so loud in Percy's ears that it almost drowned out Lee. Not that it mattered; his entire mind kept focused on the Quaffle under his arm as he raced towards the Slytherin goal.

"WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN,

WEASLEY IS OUR KING.

WEASLEY IS OUR KING,

WEASLEY IS OUR KING,

WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN,"

A Bludger came out of nowhere when Percy was halfway down the pitch, knocking the Quaffle from his hands. When his scattered thoughts returned, the Quaffle was nowhere in sight.

"--and it's Warrington again, who passes to Pucey, Pucey's off past Spinnet, come on now Angelina, you can take him--turns out you can't--but nice Bludger from Fred Weasley, I mean, George Weasley, oh who cares, one of them anyway, and Warrington drops the Quaffle and Percy Jackson--er--drops it too--so that's Montague with the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Montague takes the Quaffle, and he's off up the pitch, come on now Gryffindor, block him!"

"WEASLEY CANNOT SAVE A THING,"

"--and Pucey's dodged Alicia again, and he's heading straight for goal, stop it, Ron!"

Ron missed again. Percy groaned under his breath along with the crowd. Only the Slytherins, screaming and singing at the top of their lungs, seemed to be enjoying themselves.

"THAT'S WHY SLYTHERINS ALL SING:

WEASLEY IS OUR KING."

Within another ten minutes of gameplay, Harry still hadn't found the Snitch, and Ron let in another two goals. Percy felt hot and tired, but he played as hard as he could. He wasn't going to give up.

"--and Percy Jackson of Gryffindor dodges Pucey, ducks Montague, nice swerve, Percy, and he throws to Johnson, Angelina Johnson takes the Quaffle, she's past Warrington, she's heading for goal, come on now Angelina--GRYFFINDOR SCORE! It's 40-10, 40-10 to Slytherin and Pucey has the Quaffle..."

Percy heard a lion's roar amongst the cheering and searched in vain for its source.

Who in Hades brings a lion to a Quidditch match?

"--Pucey throws to Warrington, Warrington to Montague, Montague back to Pucey--Johnson intervenes, Johnson takes the Quaffle, Johnson to Jackson, this looks good--I mean bad--Jackson's hit by a Bludger from Goyle of Slytherin and it's Pucey in possession again..."

"WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN,

HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN,

WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN,"

Out of the corner of his eye, Percy saw Harry dive. He'd finally found the Snitch. Malfoy watched and followed, soon they were neck-and-neck. Harry grabbed the Snitch a millisecond before Malfoy, and refused to let it escape his grip. Screams enveloped the pitch as Madam Hooch blew her whistle to end the game. Percy raised an arm above his head and whooped in delight as he lowered his broom to the ground. They'd won.

As soon as the euphoria came, it left. A Bludger hit Harry hard, prompting most of the team to run over to check on him. Percy landed, then went with his teammates to check on Harry. As much as the kid annoyed him, that Bludger looked nasty.

But, something--or someone, actually--kept him from the Gryffindor Seeker.

"You did it!" Annabeth yelled, running up to Percy and kissing him in excitement. Percy wrapped his arms around her and lifted her feet off the ground, joy bubbling in his stomach once again.

"Gods, guys, stop with the PDA please," Nico requested dryly. Percy shot him down with a wave of his hand; he could feel Nico's sarcastic eye roll. Annabeth pulled away and laughed, her face flushed from adrenaline. Percy, one arm still wrapped around Annabeth's shoulder, turned to Nico. He was staring at the two of them, eyebrow raised in a 'you done?' kind of expression, one earbud still plugged into his right ear. "Nice passes, Jackson. You were good up there."

Percy snorted. "Stop, you weren't even paying attention."

Nico shrugged, a slight smirk forming on his lips. "Not my scene. Come on, I've got a few more hours till detention. Let's see if we can find the wall you-know-what."

Percy pouted. "I just won a Quidditch game! Can't we take the afternoon off?"

Annabeth elbowed him, her good-natured smile turned into a chuckle. "Come on, Seaweed Brain. Maybe your luck will rub off on the quest."

"All work and no play..." Percy complained, but followed his friends inside the castle.

Together, they found the Room of Requirement, and entered the DA Room. They tore the place apart for at least two hours, but couldn't find anything. After another forty-five minutes, they admitted defeat.

"It's probably in another form of this room." Annabeth sounded pretty frustrated at the prospect.

"That's helpful," Percy said. "This room could have a million forms."

"I know..." Annabeth sighed. "It's going to be impossible to find the horcrux unless we know exactly what to look for."

"We'll figure something out," Nico assured them, though he didn't sound convincing. "I have to get to detention anyway, so I'll do some research later tonight and see if I can come up with something."

Annabeth furrowed her eyebrows, eyes following Nico as he walked away. "Research? How...?" The door's slam cut her off.

"No use hanging around here," Percy decided. "Come on, Annabeth. We've got another hour before dinner. Let's go for a walk by the lake, or something."

Annabeth seemed distracted, eyes still on the shut door. "No, I have... things to do. I'll see you later." She grabbed her bag and left too, leaving Percy alone in the DA room. With a sigh, he left too.

Like we didn't even win the game.

Defeated, Percy walked back to the Gryffindor common room in silence. He cheered himself up with the hope that maybe he could help Fred and George with one of their inventions. When he reached the common room and heard that Harry, Fred, and George had all been kicked off the team, he just gave up trying to feel happy and worked on an Arithmancy essay.

It wasn't one of his better days, to say the least.

Nico dropped his stuff off in the Slytherin common room right in the middle of Malfoy's gloating. "And, Montague only got lines. With those blood-traitors gone, we've got the cup in the bag."

Nico walked over to Hestia, doing homework by the fire. "What does he mean, 'lines?' And what are blood-traitors?"

Hestia looked up from her work. "Umbridge. The Weasley twins and Potter fought with Montague, got kicked off the Gryffindor Quidditch team. They were some of their best players; now Johnson has to find replacements."

Nico didn't know how to react. He was glad Potter got in trouble, but it still seemed unfair. "And Montague only got lines?"

"Yup. Umbridge was a Slytherin; I guess she likes us a little better."

Great. We're the teacher's pets.

"You don't seem all that upset about it," Nico noted.

Hestia, who'd gone back to her homework, jotted something down before responding. "Like I said, it's unfair, but now the best players on Gryffindor are out of the game. We might actually get a chance at the Quidditch Cup this year."

"Oh." Nico didn't care much about Quidditch. The flying brooms were cool, and Percy was on the team, but he'd never been a huge sports fan. He didn't go to mortal school, so he'd never played on a school team, plus, he never watched TV or anything like that. It just wasn't his thing. The most he'd done in the sports department was swordfight. One-on-one basketball with Will too, if getting creamed by his boyfriend within minutes counted as a sport.

"Don't you have detention?" Hestia asked, smirking, her eyes still on the textbook.

"Yeah," Nico groaned. "I just came to put my things down. Is Percy still on the team?"

"Yes, and stop stalling. Just go or you'll get in even more trouble."

Though Nico knew she was right, he let out a long, sarcastic sigh. Hestia shushed him, so, with one last glare, he left for his dorm room to gather his things for detention. He had no experience with detention; Westover Hall liked push-ups better. He stuffed his sword into his bag, then left for Umbridge's office.

If I need anything, she'll give it to me, right?

The walk to her office was too short. Nico dreaded any minute he had to spend with that lady, especially when the sole point was to induce boredom. But, that was nothing compared to when he entered her room. As he looked around, he could only think one thing:

Is this lady serious?

Everything was over-the-top cute: pink loomed in every corner, doilies covered every possible surface, dozens of dried flowers sat in vases, and pictures of kittens covered every inch of wall space. Nico resisted the urge to puke; this place looked like it was where Aphrodite's kids went to die.

Harry was already there, writing lines on a piece of parchment, one hand out of sight under the desk.

"Ah, Mr. di Angelo," Umbridge greeted him in her sugar-sweet voice. "Come in."

Nico hovered by the door, waiting for directions. "You'll be doing lines with a special quill of mine," Umbridge instructed. "Come right here." Nico approached her desk, and saw the large, black quill in Umbridge's hand.

"Um..." Nico mumbled, staring at his feet. Percy said that the best way to survive detention was to keep quiet, but the writing posed a bit of an issue. "I... can't write."

Umbridge waved him away, misunderstanding him. "You won't need any ink with this quill."

"No, Professor Umbridge. I'm dyslexic. I can't write, period." He buried his annoyance deep in his stomach; he didn't want to lose control. He'd end up telling Umbridge to go fuck herself, and get in even more trouble.

Umbridge smiled again, making her toad-like face more hostile. She mumbled an incantation and tapped the quill with her wand; it glowed blue, then black again. "There. Now it will write any word you tell it to. I assume you can speak, yes?"

"I can manage talking," Nico replied through gritted teeth.

Umbridge's smile widened as he took her quill. "Now, listen to me, Mr. di Angelo. You still have that sword only because I have orders straight from the Minister of American Magic herself not to confiscate it. But, Hogwarts is safe. Britain is safe. There are no dangers here; the Ministry deals with all dangers. There is never any need for you to use a sword, do you understand me?"

"Yes," Nico lied.

"Good. Now that sword--along with any swords your friends might have--will stay in the dorms at all times. If I see them out, the consequences will be... severe." Umbridge motioned for Nico to sit next to Harry, who'd stayed hunched over his work the entire time. "You will write 'I am safe in Britain,' Mr. di Angelo."

"'I am safe in Britain,'" Nico repeated, walking to his desk. "Got it."

Umbridge picked up a textbook, eyes watching Nico from over its top. Nico reached the desk, sat down, grabbed a piece of parchment, put the quill on top, and started to say the words. The quill wrote the sentence in dark red ink, and-- and something else happened. A searing pain flared on the back of Nico's hand, identical to the sensation of his cutting. Nico gasped in a mix of shock, pain, and relief; he realized with a jolt how many days had passed since the Horcrux hunt. He hadn't cut in almost a week. His pent up anger and frustration numbed with the pain, and the desire to cut more, to feel less, hit him with unbearable urgency.

At his gasp, Umbridge smiled, still watching him over her textbook. "Do you need something, Mr. di Angelo?"