So I never found a nice place to put the Romilda Vane scene and figured, Hey I'm doing extra scenes now, might as well.

On a side note, I was tagged by @PokemonDestiny

1. Do you have a crush?

No

2. Does someone have a crush on you?

... Not that I'm aware.

But since I have a lot of female readers, I have to ask.

What does it mean if a girl is always making weird conversation with you out of nowhere and bringing up topics you had conversations about months ago and giggling for no reason and always complaining how awkward and weird they are, then walking away?

Is that a sign, or just a weird thing?

See, this problem right here is why it's so easy for me to write as Percy.

3. What is your favorite book?

I might have to say the 8th Ranger's Apprentice book, The Kings of Clonmel, But in all honesty that'll probably change by tomorrow.

4. What's better, New York or California?

New York

5. Where do you want to travel to?

The kitchen. To get more food. I'm hungry.

6. Favorite song

Right now probably Fighter by Gym Class Heroes

7. Favorite Band

I don't know. Maybe Paradise Fears? Or Imagine Dragons?

8. Lock screen

Okay, this is way more fun.

9. Home screen

Also fun

I'm not obsessed.

Okay, maybe I'm a lot obsessed.

10. Favorite Youtube Channel

Overly Sarcastic Productions

Now that that's over with, story time!

Third Person POV

Romilda Vane

If someone asked Romilda Vane what she thought would happen when she asked Percy out, she would've said something along the lines of:

"Of course. In fact, I was just coming over to ask you out myself."

Or:

"You are the most beautiful girl alive. I had plans with that... uh... other girl that I can't remember the name of because I'm too awe inspired by your presence, but I'd rather hang out with you instead anyway!"

Or even: "Okay. See you later." Because in her eyes, Percy Jackson was just that suave.

Never in a billion years would she have expected a calm, flippant,

"Nah."

Her eyes bugged out.

"What?"

She had gotten everything right.

She was wearing a short red dress, which Annabeth told her was Percy's favorite.

She piled on more make up than she ever had in her life, which was a huge accomplishment for her, and even she had to admit she looked like a cake.

Which Annabeth said Percy also liked!

In her opinion, she had successfully achieved 'The natural look of fakeness.'

What could have gone wrong?

Maybe it was the ask.

Maybe "Hey, Percy-Kins. Looking hotter than usual. Wanna go on a date this weekend?" was coming on a little too strong.

No, that couldn't have been it. If you asked her, she'd nailed that one.

"I'm flattered and all," Percy continued, looking genuinely sorry for turning her down, "But I've got a girlfriend and I, uh, don't really know who you are, so yeah. Sorry."

Romilda's eyebrows shot up and she finally let her mouth fall open.

"How could you not know who I am?" She practically shrieked. "I'm Romilda Vane! We've met like six times! I'm in your Astrology Class!"

"Oh! She told me I might not be able to recognize you when you did this!" He exclaimed. "It all makes sense now."

"Wait," Percy said, looking more confused than ever, "If you're Romilda Vane, that means you're two years younger than me!"

"What's two years?" Romilda asked frantically, "Aren't your friends... what're their names... Francis and Chestnut... three years apart?"

Percy shifted awkwardly. "Um, actually it's Frank and Hazel, and I mean, the age isn't the problem. How'd you get into my Astrology Class if you're a sixth year?"

Romilda waved away the question. "That doesn't matter," she said, batting her eyelashes flirtatiously, "What does matter is that I like you, and I know you're this hero of Olympus and Hogwarts, so I figured you would like me too."

Percy ran his hand through his hair nervously. "Um, well, you seem very... uh... normal, but like I said, I have a girlfriend."

"Really?" Romilda asked, "Who?"

"Annabeth," Percy said dreamily.

Romilda blanched. "Wait a minute," she said backing up, "Annabeth Chase? Blonde? Gray eyes? Nerdy?"

"Well," Percy said, "She reads a lot, but I wouldn't call her nerdy necessarily. More... mentally inclined toward books."

"And how long have you two been dating?"

Percy took a moment to think. "Twenty two months? That's almost two years, right? It'll be two years this August. Can't wait."

Romilda has never been so angry in her life. Annabeth Chase was just supposed to be the best friend. She was supposed to be the way into Percy's heart.

She set her up!

She was scared that Romilda would steal Percy away from her, so she lied to her face!

Annabeth didn't deserve Percy, and Romilda was going to make sure she knew that.

But before Romilda picked a fight with the toughest girl in Hogwarts, there was one last thing she needed to check.

"What's your favorite color?"

"Blue."

"Annabeth!"

_____________

Romilda had just gotten into the Gryffindor Common Room when she ran into Percy again.

She'd just gotten back from the Owlery with a brand new batch of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes Love Potion and couldn't have Percy see it.

Her plan was perfect

First she was going to make Annabeth fall in love with Malfoy. It was just as much a way to knock the stuck up Daughter of Athena down a few pegs as it was to get her away from Percy.

When Percy caught the fake love of his life cheating on him, she would swoop in and comfort him until he couldn't help but admit his love for her.

But just in case that didn't happen, Romilda was fine with knowing he'd been spelled into loving her.

Immediately she flashed a dazzling smile, hiding the box behind her back, and said, "Hey, Percy. Have you reconsidered about that date?"

"Sure," Percy said, surprising her, "I think it's just gone from Nah, to No way in Hades because I know that's love potion behind your back."

Romilda blinked.

"What?"

Percy just rolled his eyes exasperatedly. "No way in Hades," he said slowly, clearly enunciating every syllable, "Because I know that's love potion behind your back. I honestly don't get what was so hard about that."

Romilda finally pulled the box between them. "How did you know?"

"I'm tight with the owner and assistants of Weasley and Weasley." Percy said nonchalantly, "And I understand you've gotten two shipments of love potion and I can only assume the regular is for me, and the experimental one that makes people love other people is for Annabeth."

She shook her head violently. "No!" She denied immediately, "No, no, it's not. I've just been dying to get together with Harry Potter, and my friend... uh, she's been crushing on this guy for weeks now. Just trying to make it happen, you know? Anything for a friend, right? That's kinda what you're known for."

Percy was twitching.

It was really strange.

So strange and unappealing it was almost a deal breaker for her.

Percy grabbed his head to make it stop. "Alright, quit it with the lies, already. I'm a human lie detector and you're about to give me a heart attack."

Suddenly, he was up in her face, and if he wasn't so terrifying to look at right now, Romilda might've been the slightest bit excited.

"Look," Percy growled, "I don't know who you think you are. But you do not mess with me or any of my friends, you hear me? You don't mess with Harry and Ginny, because they are in a very happy relationship that took the death of one of the best people I have ever known to make happen."

"But above all, you don't mess with Annabeth. She is my world, and I barely know you. The Labyrinth, Hera, my disappearance, Arachne, and Hell couldn't break her. What makes you think you can? If you mess with Annabeth, you mess with me. And trust me. You don't want to mess with me."

"Are we clear?"

Romilda nodded meekly.

Percy took a deep breath and stepped back, grinning, satisfied, and said to her, "I expect those love potions to be disposed of by tomorrow, and if they're not, I'll report you to Filch, and my dear friend the Head Girl. Plus, I am still your professor and other punishments will be administered."

Percy's eyes narrowed and he muttered darkly, "Don't let it come to that."

He pantomimed brushing his hands off and called a quick and happy, "See you around!" Before strolling out the portrait hole, whistling.

Romilda's eyes were still wide in fear, and immediately she darted to her room, throwing the Love Potions onto a table.

"Confringo!"

Boom!

"Stop blowing things up in our dorm, Romilda!"

________________

Draco Malfoy

Draco Malfoy was under constant pressure.

Pressure to be the best, to be perfect, to bring glory to the Malfoy name.

(Although honestly, how much glory was there in having a name like Malfoy?)

But how was he supposed to do anything of the sort when there was always a Gryffindor to upstage him?

Of course he had to be in the same year as Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, He Who Vanquished Voldemort, the star Seeker on the Quidditch team.

Of course he had to have found a sworn enemy in the most famous wizard in the past half century.

Just his luck.

He could never get Potter in trouble without something backfiring on him as well.

Even on an inferior broom, Potter would still best him.

And let's not forget the duel that sent him to the infirmary.

Then there was Percy Jackson.

He was the new Hogwarts Golden Boy, topping Potter by a long shot without even doing anything.

Harry, he could understand sometimes.

On a good day

If he tilted his head and squinted a little.

He won a war, okay. He destroyed Voldemort, okay. He has a cool scar, alright, already!

All Percy Jackson did was be annoyingly nice to everyone all of the time.

He was loyal, and kind, and protective over his friends, and so friendly it made Draco want to wring his neck.

He was easily the most popular kid at Hogwarts, friends with the so called Golden Trio, had an amazing girlfriend, and why did he get to be so pure all of the time?

And that was before everyone found out he was a literal son of a god, Savior of Olympus and Hogwarts, survivor of Hell, who turned down godhood for the sake of family, though, after his most recent escapades, Draco wouldn't be surprised if they forced immortality on him.

But even his hatred for Percy Jackson couldn't come close to his absolute loathing of Hermione Granger.

She was a Muggleborn, for crying out loud!

Why was she the best in their year?

Better yet, how was she the best in their year?

He was a Malfoy! A Pureblood, descended from the first wizards! He'd been training for Hogwarts for as long as he could remember! He was pretty sure his first word was a spell.

After all of that pressure, for eight years of his life, how could he not snap?

"She'll never be any more than what she is!" He screamed without thinking, "A Mudblood!"

Harry, Ron, and Ginny spun on him, their faces a clear indicator of their anger, their wands already drawn.

Hermione's fists clenched, and she took a step toward him, as if she were going to hit him.

Again.

What Draco was more terrified of, however, was the way Percy Jackson's eyebrows furrowed and his lips pinched together, like he was going to do something.

"Ha!"

Draco instinctively flinched at the explosive sound that left Percy's mouth.

Everyone had heard about Romilda Vane and what Percy had done when he found out she was plotting against his friends.

Draco wasn't afraid of Percy. Just... cautious. The Son of Poseidon had a cheerful demeanor and an easy smile, but that didn't mean he was a pushover. Far from it.

Draco should know. He had tried to push him over.

And for once, there was someone in Hogwarts who would push back.

Draco stood there, his arms up and one leg back in a classic defensive position, anticipating the blow.

There was none.

Wait.

It wasn't a yell.

That was laughter.

"Did you just call her a Mudblood?" Percy cackled, "That's ridiculous!"

Harry put a hand on his shoulder, suddenly calmer as he explained the situation.

"Dude, I know you haven't been here all that long and don't quite understand wizards," Harry said slowly, "But around here, Mudblood is a serious insult."

"Yeah," Ginny cut in, "He's basically insulting her parents and calling her dirty for being Muggleborn."

"Come on, guys," Percy said, "It's just a word, right 'Mione? And besides."

He sent Draco a sideways glance, "It's only an insult if you care about his opinion in the first place."

Draco flushed red at that. "I am a Pureblood!" Draco burst out, "What give you the right to pretend hat I don't matter? What gives her the right to pretend that she's better than me?"

"Pretend?" Percy asked, "She is better than you."

"And maybe that's the thing," Percy continued, "Maybe it's self righteous brats like you that allow Muggleborns to best you. Maybe it's because a Muggleborn needs to work to make their way in a foreign society that drives them to be better."

"Hermione might be Muggleborn, but she understands the value in hard work. People like you, who think they're better than her just because you've been here longer, are everything wrong with Hogwarts. It's supposed to be about magical growth. Historically, Muggleborns are better. Lily Evans, Hermione Granger. Two of the most successful wizards of their age."

"It never mattered that they'd been thrown into a whole new world without aid. They made their own way."

Percy smirked at Draco's face. "If anything, Purebloods are worse. You know, there's a reason that Muggleborns are given magic even with no connection to the Magical world. They're directly blessed by Hecate, the god of Magic herself."

"In fact, you can think of yourself like I think of Octavian. He was just like you. Pale skin, blonde hair. He thought he was so much better than everyone else just because he was a legacy. Some kind of sixth or seventh generation descendant of Apollo."

"Your magic is watered down after being passed down so many times, so I really never understood why you ever thought Purebloods were better."

Hermione's face was red at this point, and not from anger. "That was... really sweet, Percy," Hermione said softly, "Thank you."

Percy shrugged and slung an arm around her shoulder, spinning her away from Malfoy. "Just the truth."

"Wait, really?" Ginny asked, incredulous, "Purebloods are weaker because they're farther away from the source of magic?"

"Think about it this way," Percy said, sounding like the professor he was for once, "Hecate blessed a dude. Said dude has a kid. Only half of his genes go to the next person, hence, only half of the magic. And from what Gel Face over here is saying, he's about... I don't know, tenth generation. So he's only got a fraction of the magic. Now, magic is a big concept, and there are other factors for it, like why there are stronger wizards in. Pure and Half bloods, and sometimes the magic just fizzles out, like in Squids."

"Percy, mate," Ron cut in, shaking his head, "You've really gotta quit trying to sound smart. It's not your thing."

"What?"

"It's Squibs, idiot."

"Yeah, that's what I meant. Though personally, I find Squids much cooler. And less funny to say."

"It's literally a one letter difference."

"But listen to the word! Squibs. Ha!"

Draco facepalmed.

What did the world see in this kid?