When Myths Meet Magic || 4

3|| Annabeth

Harry, Ron, and Hermione returned and after being smothered in hugs by Mrs. Weasley, hurried up the stairs to Ron's room.

"There's something I haven't told you," he said as soon as they burst into the cramped space. "On Saturday morning, I woke up with my scar hurting again."

"Saturday morning," Hazel said, her face white. "What time?"

"I dunno, about sunrise I think," Harry said, trying to remember.

The demigods turned to each other, their faces pale, but Ron and Hermione had their own reactions.

"But, he wasn't there, was he? You know who, I mean-- last time your scar kept hurting, he was at Hogwarts, wasn't he?" Ron rambled on nervously.

"I'm sure he wasn't on Privet Drive," Harry said. "But I was dreaming about him... him and Peter-- Scabbers-- I can't remember it now, but they were plotting to kill... someone."

Annabeth regarded him. She was sure that he was about to say "me," as in Harry, but he clearly didn't want to make them any more scared.

"But they didn't, did they?" Nico asked. "I mean, did anyone die?"

Harry nodded slowly. "An old man, A muggle I think. Voldemort killed him."

"So that's what it was," Hazel murmured. The trio turned their attention to her.

"Saturday morning, Nico and I both woke up because we felt something," she explained.

"A death," Nico helped. "A death by extreme dark magic."

"It was really strong," Hazel added. "Like the wave of dark magic I felt the night of the Quidditch Cup. That was the second time it happened, and now I know. Both are connected to Voldemort."

"Don't say his name!" Ron hissed, looking around nervously.

"Remember what Professor Trelawney said, though?" Harry asked. "At the end of last year?"

Hermione's terrified expression vanished, and she let out a derisive snort. "Oh Harry," she chastised. "You aren't going to pay attention to what the old fraud says?"

"You weren't there," Harry said. "You didn't hear her. This time, she went into a trance-- a real one."

"Did her eyes turn green and start spouting smoke?" Annabeth asked. "Because that's what happens to Rachel... our oracle."

"No, I think she's different," Harry said. "But it was a real trance. And she said the Dark Lord would rise again, greater and more terrifying than ever before... and he'd manage it because his servant was to go back to him... and that night, Scabbers escaped."

There was a silence as everyone thought.

"So why were you asking if Hedwig had come?" Hermione asked, recalling the moment in the kitchen when Harry was fidgeting nervously.

"I told Sirius about my scar," Harry said, shrugging. "I'm waiting for him to answer."

"Good thinking!" said Ron, his expression clearing. "I bet Sirius'll know what to do!"

"Adults don't always know the best thing to do," Thalia warned, and the others nodded.

"Still, Sirius is pretty smart," Annabeth said. "I mean, he evaded the entire muggle and wizarding community."

"But we don't know where Sirius is... he could be in Africa or America or somewhere, couldn't he?" Hermione asked reasonably. "Hedwig's not going to manage that in a few days."

"Yeah, I know," Harry said as he stared out of the window into the Hedwig-free sky.

>>>•O•<<<

"I thought we were all agreed that the elf, while irresponsible, did not conjure the mark?" Percy Weasley said hotly, drawing Annabeth out of her book of Top 107.4 Greatest Architectural Designs In History. She glanced up and saw Hermione slamming her book shut angrily.

"If you ask me, Mr. Crouch is lucky that no one at the Daily Prophet knows how mean he is to elves!" she stated angrily.

"Now look here, Hermione," said Percy. "A high-ranking Ministry official like Mr. Crouch deserves unswerving obedience from his servants--"

"His slave, you mean!" Hermione's voice rose. "Because he didn't pay Winky, did he?"

"I think you'd all better go upstairs and check that you've packed properly!" Mrs. Weasley intervened, breaking the argument. "Come on now, all of you--"

The last thing Annabeth wanted to do was leave the cozy house and go out into the rain to the tents, but she had her wand and could easily keep herself dry, so she went up anyways.

"Oh, dearies," Mrs. Weasley stopped them. "I've gotten you an extra package that you'll need later in the year, dress robes for the boys, you see--"

She handed Annabeth a neatly wrapped package and, waving her wand, made the cloth instantly slick and waxy.

"Waterproof cover," she explained. "Now, off you go!"

Annabeth trudged up the muddy hill after the others, who had gone ahead. She pulled back the cover of the boys' tent and threw it inside.

"Shut the door!" Jason complained, rolled up in a blanket facing the fire. Annabeth rolled her eyes.

"I was just passing these dress robes for you guys, Mrs. Weasley got them. Said you'll need 'em next year."

Frank peeled open the package and stared at what was inside, giving a shout of surprise. Annabeth laughed and let the flap drop as she headed over to the girls'.

"What's going on that we need dress robes for?" Piper asked.

"Just the boys," Annabeth assured her. "And I dunno, Mrs. Weasley was awfully vague about it."

"I hope we can just wear jeans," Thalia said as she picked at the wizard robe she was folding into her trunk. "I'm so sick of these."

"You get to wear jeans every summer," Annabeth reminded her. "And it's just six more years. We've already been through four."

"Four long years," Thalia added emphasis on long.

"And it was ten maximum," Hazel reminded Annabeth.

"Remember how long it took for us to get anywhere on the Argo?" Piper reminded her.

"Yeah, but I can't fathom what would take a whole three extra years after our wizard training to keep us in," Hazel said. "And how're we getting back anyways?"

Annabeth shrugged. "Probably Hecate," she guessed. "Is everyone ready?" She yelled the last part, so the boys could hear her.

A loud chorus of 'No' echoed back through the rain.