Annabeth, of course, was elated that Gryffindor won the cup. She tackled Percy as he headed out of the stands, grinning broadly.

"We won the cup! We won the cup!"

Percy kissed her cheek. "Great job, Wise Girl!" He said, beaming. "I knew you could do it!"

From behind Percy, Piper walked up and tapped Annabeth on the shoulder. She too was grinning.

"Great game, Chase," she said. "You did great."

Annabeth laughed. "No, it was really mostly Wood. He blocked almost all of Slytherin's shots. But you did great too, you were the only Slytherin who could score on us."

"Well, me and Marcus," Piper said, but Annabeth shook her head.

"You were the only one that scored while being a good sport," she said. "Did you see how Flint took the Quaffle? He basically tackled Angelina."

Piper grinned. "Yeah, sorry about that block by the way," she said. "But it looked like you had it taken care of."

They both laughed, then Piper turned around.

"Well, I should go. Marcus'll throw a fit when he sees me talking to you." She hugged Annabeth one more time. "Great job again."

"Don't celebrate yet," Annabeth warned as she pulled away. "We still need to pass exams."

Piper groaned. "Why'd you have to remind me," she asked, then walked off.

Percy pouted. "Are we really going to study after this?" He asked. "We've been studying forever!"

"Last time you studied for anything was probably first year exams," Annabeth said. Percy grinned.

"Well, I passed, didn't I?"

"Only because I helped you," Annabeth chastised lightly. "And don't count on it this year," she warned.

>>>•O•<<<

Even if they were tests, Percy still found it quite interesting. It was magic, after all. He much prefered Hogwarts finals to high school finals.

"Care of Magical Creatures tomorrow," Ron said as he peered at their schedules while in the common room. "We should prepare Hagrid for the appeal."

"No need," Harry said as his face fell. He held up a letter that Hedwig had just delivered. "Buckbeak's appeal is set for the sixth--"

"That'll give us plenty of time," Thalia said positively. But Harry went on.

"But they're bringing the executioner too."

"The executioner?" Annabeth looked outraged. "They're not even going to give Buckbeak a fair appeal?"

"Obviously not," Jason said, his normally optimistic face clouded with anger.

"They're all in that Minotaur of a wizard's pocket," Nico said, scowling. "If I ever see Malfoy again--"

"He goes to the same school as us," Thalia reminded him.

"--he's going to cry for the fields of Punishment," Nico finished dangerously.

"Malfoy or his father?" Percy asked.

Nico's face darkened. "Both."

Hermione looked up from where she was looking for her Arithmancy book. "That's a bit harsh, don't you think?" She asked hesitantly. "I mean, using your powers to punish them?"

"No, I'm using my power to make sure they get what they deserve," Nico replied. He snatched the paper from Harry's hands and waved it in front of Hermione. "It was Malfoy's fault in the first place-- if he paid any attention during class he wouldn't have insulted Buckbeak and broken his own arm!"

"And besides," Thalia added. "He still has what, 87 years until he goes to the Underworld? That gives him plenty of times to deserve it."

"Assuming he doesn't die before 100," Annabeth added.

"So while you're all plotting Malfoy's eternal punishment," Ron said. "I'm going to bed. Long day of punching Malfoy tomorrow."

But it so happened that most of their day was consumed with stressing over exams. They all left the Transfiguration room feeling let down about their magic powers, except for Hermione, Annabeth, and Thalia, of course.

"You were cheating," Nico accused again. Thalia smirked.

"No, I was using my magic," She said. "Because the Mist is in Hecate's control, and Hecate is the goddess of magic, therefore the Mist is magic. I was just following the rules, you know."

Annabeth grinned at Nico. "If you had practiced last night, you would've been fine."

Nico waved his hands around. "No one practices the night before!" He complained. "And besides, I was looking for Bianca."

"She was with Crookshanks the whole time," Hermione reminded him. "And you were with us, plotting Malfoy's death."

"Whatever." Nico glanced up and caught sight of Hagrid's hut and the small, white bin next to it. He groaned.

"Flobberworms," Percy said, wrinkling his nose. "But hey, that means we can talk to Hagrid and Buckbeak."

Buckbeak was getting slightly depressed and frustrated as hey stood inside the hut.

Lords and Lady, let me out! He begged Percy, Jason, and Thalia. It smells like dragon in here!

"That was first year," Percy assured the hippogriff. Buckbeak shook his feathery head.

I don't care! Pumpkins smell better. He raised his head, as if he were sniffing the air. I smell pumpkins. They're calling me.

Percy laughed. "I feel yeah, bro," he said. "Food is always calling me."

Buckbeak snorted like a horse. No, it's calling me to stab it with my beak and clonk the executioner on the head.

Percy sighed. "Buckbeak, what did I tell you about manners?" he scolded. "No clonking executioners on the head with pumpkins!"

Buckbeak snorted again. You never said that.

"I'm saying it now."

I shouldn't have told you.

"You shouldn't have told me a lot of stuff, like Hagrid's butchering knife you were hiding under your bed."

Jason looked startled. "Buckbeak was hiding a butchering knife under his bed?" He looked at the hippogriff. "You know, maybe they were right about your execution."

Buckbeak shook his head angrily. It's either me or them! Who's side are you on?

"Yours," Jason said immediately. "I'm not sure I want a mental hippogriff with access to butchering knives on my bad side," he added under his breath.

Buckbeak glared, offended.

>>>•O•<<<

Percy waited under the Divination trapdoor, half asleep.

"You're next, Percy," Nico said as he climbed down. He rolled his eyes. "Honestly, that was worse than being in that bronze jar."

Percy shot him a disbelieving look, and Nico looked down. "Maybe not," he admitted. "But good luck."

The room was stifling hot and reeked of a grandmother's attic. Percy stifled a yawn as he sat down in front of the glowing crystal orb. Professor Trelawney sat behind it, her misty eyes appearing unusually mysterious as it was enlarged by her glasses. Upon closer inspection, they were tinted pink.

"Take your time now, dear," Professor Trelawney said. "Peer into the orb. Let your inner eye work. What do you see?"

Percy stared inside. The smoke inside the orb was not made of water, it was made of something that was truly magical. It swirled in a mesmerizing way, calling to Percy.

He didn't like it. It felt weird.

"I see..." He peered closer, as if he saw something. "It's like two figures..."

Professor Trelawney looked excited. "You do, my dear? Look harder. What do you think it is?"

Percy looked up suddenly, mock realization dawning on him. "I know what it is now," he said.

"My dear?"

"It's me failing this exam," Percy finished. Then he stood up and left the room.

Percy jumped down from the trapdoor to almost land on a laughing Thalia.

"That was priceless!" she choked. "What was her face like?"

"You heard me?" Percy asked. Annabeth nodded, grinning. "We used magic," she said dismissively. "Wanted to know what a fraud she was."

"That was great," Thalia said again. Just then, a very disgruntled Professor Trelawney called down the trapdoor again-- "Thalia Grace."

Jason grinned and high-fived Percy as Thalia ascended up the ladder.

"I'm guessing you're not taking this class next year?" he asked.

"Not if my life depended on it," Percy replied firmly. "Hey, what do we need this for when we have a god of prophecies anyways?"

>>>•O•<<<

"It's finally over!" Thalia flopped onto the couch in the corner of the Gryffindor common room, next to the armchairs the others were resting on. Annabeth pushed Thalia's feet off her lap.

"It's not over yet," she warned. "We still need to help with Buckbeak's appeal."

Just then, Hedwig flew in again, carrying a letter in her claws.

"I swear that owl waits until we say something optimistic to deliver something to us," Ron grumbled. "What's it say?"

Harry's fingers clenched the letter as he handed it to them. Percy peered over, then tapped the paper with her wand. The letters unscrambled themselves, but even then, the handwriting was so shaky it was nearly impossible to read.

Lost appeal. They're going to execute at sunset. Nothing you can do. Don't come down, I don't want you to see it.
Hagrid.

"We've got to go," Percy said at once. "We can't just let this happen! Maybe I should give Buckbeak that knife back..."

"And have the committie kill it anyways with magic?" Annabeth shook her head. "No, we have to stop this another way."

"And what do you think we should do?" Ron asked.

Annabeth looked at Hermione and the girls had a silent conversation. Annabeth's gaze intensified, but Hermione shook her head firmly.

"Alright then, plan B." Annabeth looked at Hermione accusingly. "We use the invisibility cloak and other stuff and sneak over, then do something there."

"I don't have the invisibility cloak," Harry said. Annabeth frowned.

"Where is it?"

"By the witch statue, in the secret passageway behind it. You just tap it and say 'dissendium'..." Harry had barely stopped talking when Hermione was out of the common room, returning just as fast with the mottled silver and green cloak in her hands. She dumped it on the floor in front of them.

"Hermione, I don't know what's gotten into you lately!" Ron said, sounding amazed. "First you hit Malfoy, then you walk out on Trelawney..."

Hermione looked flattered.

>>>•O•<<<

"Can we climb through the window?" Percy whispered to Annabeth, or where he assumed Annabeth was. From under her cap, it was impossible to tell.

"No, Seaweed Brain," she replied. "We're going through the door."

Percy sighed. As Harry went the boring way, knocking on the door and waiting for Hagrid to open it. It was so much less exciting than climbing through the window.

"Bucky's tethered in me pumpkin patch," Hagrid said as he wiped his eyes. "Thought he oughta see the trees an'-- an' smell fresh air-- before--"

Percy glanced at Thalia and Jason, and they made a silent agreement. If Buckbeak wanted to clonk the executioner on the head with a pumpkin, it was all right now.

"I'll do it Hagrid," Hermione said quickly as Hagrid reached over to make the tea. She turned away to hide her tears.

"And Dumbledore can't do anything about it?" Annabeth pressed. Hagrid shook his head sorrowfully.

"He's tried, an'--" Hagrid was cut off by a sudden shriek from Hermione's direction.

"Ron! I can't believe it! It's Scabbers!"  Hermione strode over, carrying an empty milk jug from Hagrid's cabinet and turned it upside down.

With a frantic squeak, and much scrambling to get back inside, Scabbers the rat came sliding out.

"Scabbers!" Ron grabbed Scabbers and held him up to the light. Scabbers looked dreadful. He was thinner than ever; large tufts of fur had fallen out, leaving wide bald patches, and he writhed in Ron's hands as though desperate to free himself.

"It's okay Scabbers!" Ron cried, attempting to soothe the rat. "No cats here!"

Hagrid suddenly stood up, his face pale. "They're comin'... Go.. now."

They hurried out of Hagrid's house, into his pumpkin patch. Buckbeak turned a scornful eye at them, looking down at the pumpkins.

I could brain them when they come, you know, he said.

"Go ahead," Thalia muttered. "Dumbledore's there too, you know."

Buckbeak dropped his head, muttering hippogriff curses under his breath.

The eight vanished-- the wizards under the cloak, Percy and Annabeth in their hats, and Thalia, Jason, and Nico blending with the Mist and the shadows of the setting sun.

"Please, let's hurry," Hermione whispered from under the cloak. "I can't stand it, I can't bear it..."

They started up the sloping lawn towards the castle. Then Ron stopped in frustration.

"Scabbers! Stay put!" Ron reached into his pocket in attempt to calm Scabbers. Scabbers went beserk, squealing madly, twisting, and trying to sink his teeth into Ron's hand.

"It's me, you idiot, it's Ron," Ron hissed.

Then suddenly, there was a jumble of indistinct male voices, a silence, then without warning, the unmistakable swish and thud of an axe.