Annabeth Chase the Triwizard Champion

Chapter Three

The next day, Annabeth returned to Diagon Alley, this time with her backpack and money bag. She knew now from watching Mrs. Weasley that the big gold coins were called Galleons, the silvers were Sickles, and the little copper guys were Knuts. She kept the money bag tucked into her waistband for easy access.

Diagon Alley was somehow even more crowded than yesterday. People bustled all over, going this way and that. Annabeth was barely even able to look up at all the stores because she was busy avoiding bumping into anyone else. Sure, Mrs. Weasley had been nice, but who's to say other people were?

Annabeth decided to go to Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions first, seeing as she knew where it was and it was closest.

A little bell chimed somewhere in the back as Annabeth opened the door.

Like yesterday, Madam Malkin rushed over within thirty seconds of Annabeth walking in.

"Welcome back, dear!" she said. Annabeth noted that a lot of people in the wizarding world called her 'dear'. She didn't like it. "Are you buying your school robes today?"

"Yes," said Annabeth, "I—"

"You need to be fitted! I have a young man in the back being fitted, too, come along!"

With that, Madam Malkin tried to grab Annabeth's arm. When Annabeth withdrew, the woman tilted her head in the direction of the back, then started walking. Annabeth was impressed with the save.

She followed Madam Malkin through racks and isles of differently colored robes until they emerged in the area with the mirrors. A stool stood in front of each mirror, and a boy who looked about fourteen was standing on one while a man pinned up his robes.

"Right up here, please," Madam Malkin said, directing Annabeth onto a stool one over from the boy.

Annabeth stepped up and allowed Madam Malkin to put some robes on her that dangled a little past her toes.

"Who are you?" the boy asked coldly. He had platinum blond hair, a narrow, pointed face, and cold gray eyes. Annabeth would say he was a child of Athena if she didn't know he was a wizard from the past and in Britain, where the gods hadn't been for centuries.

"Excuse me?" Annabeth said, raising an eyebrow. She had spent her entire life learning to read people, and this boy held himself like a prince. One look and she could tell he thought he was better than everyone. His pale appearance and apparent arrogance also reminded her very much of Octavian, the little twit who had declared war on Camp Half-Blood.

"I don't recognize you. Who are you?"

"I don't recognize you, either, but then again, I'm not asking."

"Are you a Hogwarts student?" the boy asked, eyes narrowed.

"I would assume so. That's what everyone keeps telling me." Annabeth lifted her arm so Madam Malkin could continue pinning.

"What's your status? You are pureblood, right?" at Annabeth's continued raised eyebrow, he went on. "Merlin, you aren't a mudblood, are you? Not knowing about blood status!"

This boy was annoying, so Annabeth decided to ignore him. She wondered what all that talk about blood was. She assumed it referred to the amount of magic in one's blood, so maybe pureblood meant two magical parents. The boy had said mudblood like a slur. Annabeth wondered if there were prejudices in the wizard world. No world was perfect, not even this one.

It would be stupid not to expect that a whole world full of powerful wizards wouldn't develop a superiority complex, so it was safe to assume that wizards thought themselves better than mortals.