Annabeth Chase and Things Are Getting Intense

Chapter Twelve

Merope knew something about the people outside. Annabeth could tell it in the way her whole body tensed, how her eyes kept darting from the window and back to her father, and how her hand went up to clutch the locket around her neck.

That locket was a family heirloom. Annabeth wondered if that was significant, or just a nervous tic. Was Merope holding it because she felt she'd betrayed the family somehow? The way she was watching her father, so full of fear, suggested yes.

Even with that gaze on her father, Merope kept glancing out the window, as if trying to catch a glimpse of whoever was outside.

"My god, what an eyesore!" A young woman's voice floated in through the open window. "Couldn't your father have that hovel cleared away, Tom?"

"It's not ours," said the voice of a young man, probably Tom. The woman made a small noise and Tom continued, "Everything on the other side of the valley belongs to us, but that cottage belongs to an old tramp named Gaunt, and his children. The son's quite mad, you should hear some of the stories they tell in the village—"

The girl laughed, and Morfin made to stand up, but his father hissed at him and he stopped. Annabeth watched Merope. She was gazing out the window with wide, sad eyes, which was when Annabeth realized—she had a crush on this man. This muggle man, which was why she was clutching her locket so tightly, why she kept giving her father fearful glances. She was afraid he'd find out.

And that sadness in her eyes, the way her mouth was turned down? This was the first time she'd heard this other girl, the one riding with Tom.

"Tom," the girl's voice said, "I might be wrong—but has somebody nailed a snake to the door?"

"Good lord, you're right!" The man's voice said. "That'll be the son, I told you he's not right in the head. Don't look at it, Cecelia, darling."

Morfin hissed something at Merope as the clopping hooves got farther. He knew about Merope's crush. He sneered at her and hissed something else.

Gaunt started in his chair. He hissed something, looking from Morfin to Merope. Oh gods, this wasn't going to end well. Though all this had already happened, Annabeth was tense. She found herself ready to spring at a moment's notice, but she knew she wouldn't be able to do anything.

With a savage expression on his face, Morfin hissed again, leaning forwards on his seat as he talked to his father.

Merope was frantically shaking her head now, her face white as a sheet, her eyes full of fear as Morfin hissed on.

Gaunt hissed something quietly, a short, deadly sentence. He stood up and kept hissing, taking a slow step towards his terrified daughter. Merope pressed herself against the wall, her whole body shaking like a leaf as her father advanced towards her.

Cackling, Morfin hissed again. This time, when Gaunt spoke in those rasping hisses, it came out loud as a roar and he lunged at Merope and put his hands around her throat.

Annabet lunged and was halfway across the room, hand on her dagger, before she remembered this was a memory. Thankfully, Ogden pointed his wand at Gaunt and cried, relashio!" and Gaunt was thrown backwards.

With a roar of rage, Morfin leaped up from his seat, threw the snake aside, and went for Ogden with his short, stubby knife. Ogden ran for his life, and Annabeth, Harry, and Dumblefore followed out onto the road.

"I think that will do," Dumbledore said. He took hold of Annabeth's elbow on one side and Harry's on the other, and Annabeth felt herself rising into the air. In the next moment they were back in Dumbledore's office, which was now dim in the twilight.