Royalty (demigods at Hogwarts)

pure-blood pressure

Annabeth couldn't help but glance at the letters from her cousin's friends. She stroked the glossy photos that waved at her, and felt jealousy bubble to the surface like hot Butterbeer. 

There's really no need to be jealous, she reminded herself, because she'd be off to Hogwarts soon anyway, but it was hard to contain her emotions when you spent all day around someone who had everything when you didn't. Perfect Helena Ravenclaw, who had it all- stellar grades, loyal friends, and a perfect home life. Annabeth Ravenclaw and her family that included her cousin, Helena, weren't descended from Rowena Ravenclaw, as one might imagine, but rather, they were descended from a distant cousin of hers who happened to share the same last name. 

Annabeth looked longingly at the stack of textbooks on Helena's desk and spotted an official-looking letter lying importantly on a clipboard. It was the Hogsmeade permission slip, signed with a flourish by Annabeth's mother. Helena Ravenclaw, her accomplished cousin, was going to be starting her third year at Hogwarts, and obviously everyone expected Annabeth to live up to her cousin's standards. It was infuriating, really. Sometimes Annabeth honestly fantasized about punching Helena right in the face the Muggle way, and she'd have no spells to fix up her face.

Much more exciting than her cousin, however, were the rumours that Harry Potter himself was actually coming to Hogwarts. Annabeth didn't believe this, of course, because rumours were a very fickle thing that changed to suit whichever ear heard it last, and so she had decided to fall upon a reliable source- books. And the most important books, in Annabeth's opinion, were never in the Ravenclaw manor's library, but secretly stashed in a cupboard in Helena's room because she kept hogging all the good ones to herself. Annabeth often thought  that if one looked the dictionary definition of selfishness up, Helena's picture- angelic blue eyes and flowing black hair, the spitting image of Rowena Ravenclaw herself- would appear. 

Of course, she couldn't very well make this joke to her parents, Athena and Frederick Ravenclaw, because they wouldn't appreciate Annabeth making fun of her cousin, who was, in their opinion, 'far more superior than she was'. 

Annabeth's eyes stung a little when she recalled the incident that had caused them to say exactly that. It was very unpleasant, because Athena Ravenclaw had hired a babysitter to take care of both Annabeth and Helena, who were seven and nine at the time, respectively, and Annabeth had tried to show off by stealing one of her ancestor's precious wands stored in the family Wand Room that held all the wands of all the Ravenclaws before them to do magic. Annabeth'd blown up half the manor before Helena had had the sense to Floo Annabeth's parents- their parents, as Helena's had died years before in an enchanted car accident and Athena was always insisting that Helena really must call her Mother.

She had never said anything of the sort to Annabeth. 

Athena and Frederick Ravenclaw hadn't even bothered talking to Annabeth. They'd just locked her up in her room with a cold, icy look in their eyes that had chilled Annabeth to the bone, but she wouldn't cry. The next morning, her parents had slipped a Howler under the door- telling her how they couldn't face their disappointment of a child right now, that they needed a holiday away from the abnormal freak, that Helena was better than she was, more superior than she was. 

And Helena had heard every word. Her blue eyes glinting maliciously, her vivacious black curls bouncing, her perfectly clear skin gleaming in the sunlight of the garden, she'd wasted no time in owling all her friends about the latest Annabeth predicament. Because even before she'd gone to Hogwarts, Helena had had friends. Real friends, and even though they'd all gone off to other Wizarding Schools, Helena still kept in touch with them.

It wasn't fair, thought Annabeth miserably. When she'll have got to Hogwarts, there'd be pressure, and drama, and even if she scored a hundred and one- again, a Muggle reference- OWLS or NEWTS, she was quite certain that her parents, frankly, wouldn't give a damn because she had to be Helena and she couldn't be Helena, couldn't handle the stress or the work or knowing which friend group to associate with to catapult you into fame and success when you were older and Annabeth simply had no clue as to how to even begin to do all that, as Helena was such a rotten, rotten cousin, rotten to the core and stuck her nose up when all Annabeth was doing was talking to her.