Percy sat with Neville Longbottom and Minerva McGonagall in the headmistress's office. McGonagall sat behind her desk, Percy and Neville sat opposite of her. (Percy preferred to call Professor Longbottom by his first name. He didn't think he could keep himself from laughing if he tried to say it.)

"Now, what happened?" asked McGonagall, looking like a business woman in New York or Annabeth when she was captain on a Capture the Flag game. (War Games if your Roman) Percy took a deep breath and started to explain,

"I left Three Broom Sticks when the monster showed up. It followed me until I was almost back at the school, then it changed forms and attacked. Someone almost saw me! I killed it with Riptide before they could do anything, though. I had to tell them it was something for Defense Class. They believed me...for now."

"What was it?" asked Neville.

"Drakon," said Percy. Both teachers nodded stiffly.

"Are you guys the only ones that know?" asked Percy after an intense silence.

"Yes," said McGonagall. "I believe we are."

Meanwhile, at the great hall James, Rose and Albus sat at the Gryffindor table over looking the book they'd got from Trelawney. From across the hall, at the Slytherin table, Scorpius sat poundering what the words could mean, and what Trelawney had meant. Rose wasn't apart of it? It was the most curious thing....

Over at the Gryffindor table James read all five prophecies aloud to his cousin and brother one more time.

" A hero's mark on the stone,
And ashes turn to bone.
You shall see the halls,
But only you may see the falls.
Others may ask.
A leak, you shall fail the task.

You shall end the hate,
You shall decide the fate,
Again through the halls,
You shall challenge the laws.
Uncover the truth by the end of the year,
And follow the trio, prevail with a cheer.

A hero and a hero's son shall again face death,
The ghost king, he takes his final breath.
By the end of the year of three,
His soul lost at sea.
The hero's son shall weave,
Only his father's enemy's son to believe.
The teacher becomes the pupil,
And tides turn for a loop hole

The forth year raid,
Travel by the trade.
You shall follow the sun,
To return home to none.
You shall face what you've learned,
And watch as time is churrned.

Now the fifth year dead,
Seven heroes who have lead.
You shall go to the room of fire,
You shall seek the lair,
You shall return what was lost,
And gain what was tossed. "

"How come we can't read anything else?" asked Albus.
"It's in another language," noted Rose. "Greek? Latin maybe..."
"So, how come we can read this then?" asked James.
"I dunno," said Rose. Suddenly, Scorpius came over and sat opposite of them, surpirising most everyone.
"Look at these marks here," he said. "They look like claw marks,  a birds claw marks." Rose leaned in close.
"He's right," she said. "How could I've not noticed that before..."
"What d'you reckon that means?" Albus asked.
"Well, obviously a bird tour through it before," said James. "But why's that so important?"
"I'm not sure it is," said Scorpius. "But I went to the library the other day -"
"Now you sound like Rose!" interrupted Albus.
" - And I found a book on birds. Those claw marks seem to match the harpies," continued Scorpius.

There was a pause.
"Which means?..." said James.
"I'm not sure," said Scorpius.
Another pause.
"So, Trelawney doesn't seem to think Rose here has anything to do with this," said Albus. "And she seems to think that some evil force or something wants to steal this book." There was laughing heard behind them. They jumped.

It was Professors Jackson, McGonagall, and Longbottom. Jackson was doubled over laughing.
"Evil force!" he laughed. "Yeah right! The only thing Octavian spreads terror over are pillow pets all around the world! And I seriously doubt he will ever actually be able to steal that book. Hard ever left -" He stopped abruptly. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Who's Octavian?" asked Rose.
"Nobody important," said Jackson.
"Mr. Malfoy," said McGonagall, hurriedly changing the subject. "Might you be at the wrong table? Or have you suddenly forgotten which house you were sorted to?"
"Oh right," said Scorpius. He gave his friends a rather strange look before heading back to the Slytherin table.
The three professors proceeded to the front of the Great Hall, taking their seats. By this point all of the students' eyes were on them, whispering being heard all of the dinning hall. 

~***~                                  ~***~                                        ~***~

"What exactly happened again?" asked Hermione for about the trillionth time. It was just about 5:30 in the morning and the group of worried parents had been working non stop trying to determine a meaning of Harry's vision. They had decided to believe Jackson's story....for now.
"There was a girl with red hair, I don't know maybe Ron and Ginny's long lost cousin or something? She had red hair and her eyes were glowing green," mumbled Harry tiredly. " Nothing much happened just said a few words that sounded distant and far away, couldn't make them out really. There was a blond girl and a girl with choppy brown hair by her bed in the hospital wing. They both looked worried.
"A centaur came in and said something to them - and for the last time I couldn't understand what they were saying - They stepped out of the room where they met a blond boy and a boy that looked elfish - No, Ron not like a house elf, I've only told you this about a million times already!
"They talked a few moments before going out to an open roofed dinning pavilion. They burned their food for some reason - Yes, Hermione, I am positive they didn't say why - When they were finished they went all went separate ways - it was a camp or something, but not like a muggle one, this was different. The blond girl, though, went to a cabin.
"She wrote a letter that I couldn't ready even if I were close enough to do so - it was in another language - She sent it by owl - a stormy grey owl. Then it ended."

"Alright," said Hermione, beginning to pace. "Do you know what language it was?"
"No," said Harry.
"Describe the cabin," she said.
"It was a cabin, Hermione. I don't think that's anything important."
"Just describe it."
"It was red."
"The inside?"
"Looks like how I reckon or room at your house looks like, books everywhere, maps, that sort."
"What sort of books?"
"The kind with pages and that opens and that has words." Hermione smacked her forehead, but Harry was beginning to nod off, just as the others were.

"What about the mail man?" mumbled Malfoy in a groggy half sleep state, as if not entirely sure he knew what he was saying. "And the lighting that was directed a Harry?....Poseidon block? Daughter of Athena? Something about a forge, dove....child of lightning..." His breathing slowed and Hermione realised he was asleep, Astoria leaning on his shoulder, also asleep. Harry was leaning over the letters they had received, fast asleep. Ron was sprawled out across the floor, snoring loudly. Ginny, who had already long been sense asleep, was curled up on the sofa, breathing softly.

Hermione sighed. "Goodnight everyone," she muttered to herself, though she knew they couldn't hear here. She curled up next to Ron, thoughts churning in her mind. Her eyes flung open when she realised Malfoy had a point. Tiny pieces began to click together, though it still didn't quiet make sense. She decided not to tell the others yet. Not until her suspicions were confirmed. After all, they were only just myths as far as she was concerned. But she got the feeling that they were dealing with something extraordinary, something neither of them had ever seen before, something horrifyingly dangerous.
She would have to brush up on her mythology skills later. Right now she needed sleep. She would worry about that when they time came.