Annabeth Chase and Things Are Getting Intense

Chapter Twenty Nine

A/N: I've officially started packing for Israel and I don't know what books I'm bringing. I'm gonna miss my bookshelf so much.

"Enter," Dumbledore called when Annabeth knocked on his office door.

The door was wrenched open from the inside before either Harry or Annabeth could open it. Professor Trelawney stood on the other side.

"Aha!" she yelled, pointing at Harry and Annabeth. "So this is the reason I am being thrown unceremoniously from your office, Dumbledore!"

"My dear Sybil," Dumbledore said in a voice that bordered on frustration, "there is no question of throwing you unceremoniously from anywhere, but Harry and Annabeth do have an appointment, and I really don't think there is any more to be said—"

"Very well," Trelawney said in a deeply wounded voice. "If you will not banish the usurping nag, so be it... perhaps I should find a school where my talents are better appreciated..."

Pushing past Harry, Trelawney disappeared down the spiral staircase. Halfway down, Annabeth heard her stumble, either on one of her many scarves or because of all the sherry she drank on a daily basis.

"So she's still mad about Firenze," Annabeth said as a greeting.

Dumbledore sighed. "Please close the door and sit down," he said, gesturing to the two chairs in front of his desk. "Divination is turning out to be much more trouble than I had foreseen, never having studied the subject myself. I cannot ask Firenze to return to the forest, as he is now an outcast, nor can I ask Sybil Trelawney to leave. Between ourselves, she had no idea of the danger she would be in if she left Hogwarts. She does not know—and I think it would be unwise to enlighten her—that she made the prophecy about Harry and Voldemort, you see."

He sighed deeply again, then said, "but nevermind my staffing problems. We have much more important matters to discuss. Firstly—have you managed that task I set you at the end of our last lesson?"

Annabeth looked pointedly at Harry. "Want to answer that?"

"Ah," Harry said, shifting uncomfortably. "Well, I, uh, I asked Professor Slughorn after potions, sir, but, er, he wouldn't give it to me."

"And since then," Annabeth said, "I've been waiting to make sure Slughorn forgot about that. I haven't been causing him any trouble or anything like that. I think after a little more time it'll be as far from his mind as it'll get, especially since I'm not the one who asked him the first time."

"I see." Dumbledore laid out his hands on the desk. "May I stress that this memory may be our most important one yet? That it will determine my strongest theories? That it may be the key to defeating Voldemort, once and for all?"

"We'll get it," Harry said quickly.

Dumbledore nodded. "Then we shall say no more about it right now. We will continue with our story where we left off. You remember where that was?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said eagerly. "Voldemort killed his father and his grandparents and made it look as though his uncle Morfin did it. Then he went back to Hogwarts and he asked... he asked Professor Slughorn about Horcruxes."

"Very good," Dumbledore said. "Now, you will remember, I hope, that I told you at the very outset of these meetings that we would be entering the realms of guesswork and speculation?"

"Yes," Annabeth said. Guesswork and speculations were one of the (many) things she was best at.

"Thus far, as I hope you agree, I have shown you reasonably firm sources of fact for my deductions as to what Voldemort did until the age of seventeen?"