Annabeth Chase the Triwizard Champion

Chapter Eight

 Two days later, Harry, Ron, and Hermione spent their free class before lunch in the courtyard. There weren't a lot of people there, just a few Slytheirns and some Hufflepuffs. Draco Malfoy was lounging against a wall, talking to Crabbe and Goyle. Annabeth Chase sat against an opposite wall, drawing something in a notebook.

Apparently Ron hadn't noticed Annabeth before, because just then he looked at her and shouted, "oy, Chase!"

He started walking towards Annabeth, leaving Hermione and Harry to follow.

"Ron, don't, she's actually really nice!" Hermione whispered to him, but he didn't stop.

Annabeth snapped her notebook shut and stood as they approached, a guarded expression on her face.

"Why did you have to help Malfoy yesterday, huh? We were all having a good laugh about it. Why'd you have to ruin it?"

"Excuse me for being a decent human being," Annabeth said coolly.

Hermione saw an explosion coming, but she couldn't do anything to stop it. She remembered Annabeth's expression yesterday when Malfoy was being tossed around. It was one of anger, horror, but also... recognition. Hermione couldn't help but feel like Annabeth knew what that was like. She remembered earlier that day in the library, when Annabeth had locked down at the mention of Geryon.

"Have you been through something like that before? Do you know what it feels like?" the words were out before Hermione could stop them. She regretted it as soon as Annabeth's expression closed, impossibly, even more.

"Please," Ron scoffed. "We've been through more than that, and we were fine. We got through all those tricks and traps in our first year. We found the basilisk in our second. Harry's parents were murdered, for Merlin's sake! She could never know what that feels like."

In a flash of blond curls, Annabeth had Ron pinned to the courtyard wall, an arm at his throat. The look in her eyes was so fierce it could have melted stone. Ron made a small choking sound, his fingers clawing at Annabeth's arm. She looked like she didn't even feel it.

Hermione gave a small scream, pressing her hands to her mouth. Harry was too stunned to move. Hermione had never seen a look quite like that.

The entire courtyard had gone silent.

"Don't you dare," Annabeth said. If looks could kill, Hermione thought Ron would be a pile of ashes, as would the wall behind him. Her voice was little more than a low growl, but Hermione was sure everyone could hear it. "Don't you dare assume you know anything about me, Ronald Weasley, because you don't. You know nothing about me, you anenkéfalos anóitos. Harry doesn't even remember his parents. He doesn't have to live his life repeating memories in his head, wondering if he could have done something different. You know nothing, nothing, about me. Am I clear?"

Ron whimpered, pale as a sheet.

"Am. I. Clear." Annebeth repeated, pressing her arm into Ron's throat.

This time, Ron nodded his head frantically, his eyes full of fear.

"Good." Annebeth removed her arm.

Ron slumped to the ground, gasping for air. Annabeth stepped back, slung her backpack over her shoulder, and made for the exit, everyone scrambling out of her way.

Malfoy smirked as Annabeth neared him, his eyes full of mirth. He held out his hand to her. She pushed him into a wall and kept going.

When she reached the archway, she broke into a run, but Hermione could still see the glimmer of a tear running down her cheek.