Annabeth Chase and Things Are Getting Intense

Chapter One

The street Annabeth found herself on was dark. It was nighttime in the wizarding world, but the streetlamps lining the road were off. She glanced at the nearest one. A moth was flying away from the protective glass of the lamppost. Why would it have been near the light bulb if it had been off?

These lights had recently turned off. Or been turned off. She turned around. Albus Dumbledore was standing on the corner, smiling serenely and wielding what looked like a cigarette lighter, though Annabeth noticed it was glowing a little. Was that where the light had gone? Interesting.

"Annabeth. Right on time." Dumbledore nodded. "I wrote to your Headmistress asking her to send you here."

Annabeth frowned. "Why?"

"I admit, your presence is not crucial to my plans tonight," Dumbledore said. "But I wanted to have, shall we say, a bit of fun. We're going now to get Harry from his aunt and uncle, you see."

"Ah." Annabeth had heard stories about Harry's relatives, none of them good. The stories went from neglect and deprivation to outright abuse. She generally didn't like Dumbledore, but suddenly she was looking forward to this. "Lead on, then."

She took inventory of what she had on her. Rifling through her pockets, she found her wand and her Yankees invisibility cap, and her ever present dagger on her arm. The rest of her stuff should be at the Weasley's. If it wasn't, Annabeth was going to fight a goddess.

She noticed something as Dumbledore raised his left hand to point down the road. His right one, stiffly at his side, was withered and blackened, like he'd dipped it in ink and it stained. It hung limply, his fingers curled in. It looked like a raisin, honestly.

"What happened to your hand?" Annabeth asked.

Dumbledore smiled. "A story for another time. Just down this street," he said, completely avoiding the question. As they started walking, Dumbledore spoke again. "I'd like to know, Annabeth, where exactly you go during your summers."

Right. Dumbledore didn't know where she was actually from. He thought she lived in America in 1996, but he didn't know where. The only people who knew the truth were Freddie, Vera, Hermione, Harry, and Ron. All Annabeth had ever told Dumbledore was that she was perfectly safe when she wasn't at Hogwarts.

Dumbledore was being purposefully vague about his hand. Annabeth could only return the favor.

"Back to the school," she said. "My school. They have a summer program."

"And they were fine with you leaving early?"

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. "You should know. You're the one who wrote to them to send me here."

Dumbledore was trying to bait her into revealing something. It wasn't going to work.

"It occurred to me as I was writing the letter that I do not know where your school is," Dumbledore said. "My owl seemed to find it well enough, but I'd like to be aware of your location during the summer. It's for your safety, you must—" he cut himself off. Good. He was learning from their conversation last year. "I'm sorry, I misspoke. I only hope to keep you safe."

"And I appreciate it," Annabeth said as they neared number four. "But your concern isn't necessary. Hecate's Academy's location has been a secret since it was established. I'd hate to break that streak. You understand."

She smiled when Dumbledore didn't answer.

"Here we are," he said, stopping in front of a house that looked no different from any of the others. He led Annabeth up to the front step.

Annabeth considered taking out her dagger, just to scare them, but decided against it. For now, anyway. Fixing that serene smile back on his face, Dumbledore raised his hand and knocked on the front door.