Chapter 2

Harry reread his letter for the last time to make sure there wasn't any sensitive information revealed about Hogwarts or the demigods world. His dad's howl, Excalibur, was too smart for his own good, but anything could happen, especially in an overseas journey. Harry had learnt from a very young age that information was a precious commodity, which could give gold a run for its worth.

Dear Annabeth,

How are you? I hope you're fine and that things at Camp are as quiet as they can be, for the standards of Camp, that is.

I am doing well, enjoying my last months without school. September is getting nearer with each passing day. I'm sure you'll be happy to know that I am glad to start school, I am not going to complain! Just this afternoon, I went to professor Lupin's class, it was with second year gryffindors and ravenclaws. There were both the twins and Lee Jordan, I'm sure you remember that trio of troublemakers from your last visit here. Anyway, we, me included, all played an historical battle that took place in the middle age, with swords, shields and armours. You would have enjoyed that, I'm sure!

Dad says we should pay a visit to Camp at the end of June and we may stay there for two weeks. I really hope I'll find you there. If you have some free time to come here and visit the castle just send me a quick message and dad can come and pick you up. I'm sure you haven't studied all the architecture that there is to explore about the school.

Anyway, I told you that I am fine, but it's not that true. I mean, I am not worried about homework, going to classes and exams. I know almost all the first year classes. That's the sorting that really scares me. You've seen how students are divided into four houses. Once they get sorted, they don't really spend time with friends in different houses. They eat at their house table and spend time in their house common room. I don't know what to do. Every choice seems wrong. I don't want to betray my father but he's the head of Gryffindor. Can you imagine all the troubles if I was sorted there? You saw the enmity between Slytherin and Gryffindor. If I choose Slytherin then I'll lose my Gryffindor friends. I'm sure you'd choose Ravenclaw if you were at my place. It seems the best option for me too; maybe Hufflepuff, but, you know, it's funny because it's supposed to be the friendliest house of all and to be honest it's the house where I have just acquaintances, not true friends; I can't really enter their common room. They have kind of a secret code, which nobody has ever told me. It's a nice place, I've been there with their head of house, professor Sprout. They've such crazy plants in there. I bet the D cabin would really love to take a peek!

I'm sure you've understood that I don't know what to do!

Do you have any wisdom for me? If not you, then who?

What should I do? The Hat said the final choice rests with me, but I am not ready for this! I'm not ready to lose friends and to become undesired number one in somebody's common room or at somebody's table.

I hope to ear from you soon.

Let me know what Excalibur says to you. I can't really communicate with him the way you do.

Take care,

Harry

Satisfied and having checked the ink had drained, Harry folded the parchment carefully and pocketed it. He exited his bedroom and his quarters, greeting his dad and Snape on the way out.

"Hi dad, good afternoon, professor Snape. Dad, I'm going to the howlery to send a letter to Annabeth. Can I borrow Excalibur?" He directed his question at James, who nodded.

"Of course, just make sure he's well fed before the transatlantic flight," he advised.

"Got a girlfriend, Potter?" Snape asked, in his usual drawl. "Isn't it too early? Even your father had the decency to start his love life when he was older, can't say more mature since he never grew up."

Merlin, he and mr. D. should have tea together, Harry thought. They would unleash an ocean of acid bitterness that would melt all the ice in the northern hemisphere.

"Oh, come off it, Snape. You know I'm not ageing till my mission isn't complete. As simple as that. And no, my son is not engaged with Annabeth Case. She already has a boy who's got his eyes on her. He's even gealous of Harry, from what she says. Now, shall we continue our plan for tonight practice group or do you want to gossip some more?"

"Well, dad, I'll get back in ten minutes. Don't blow the living-room up," Harry said, directing his comment to nobody in particular but the corridor wall.

"I'd deduct points, Potter, if you were already sorted," professor Snape threatened and Harry didn't doubt the seriousness of the threat.

But he had already closed the door and feigned not to ear. Even professor Snape knew that the risk of hell breaking loose between him and his dad wasn't that far fetched.

Harry would not return in ten minutes. He would never get to send that letter.

"He's quite right, Snape," said James. "It's a wonder we can be civil to each other. Anyway," he hastened to continue, before the other man could rebuke: "What do you suggest we make them practice tonight? That idiot of professor Honeypot is even worse than what we had anticipated. I've been told she spent yesterday's class painting her nails…"

Snape hated Potter but he hated the defence against the dark art professors even more. He hated them on principle; he wanted to teach that subject and he was stuck with potions and dunderheads who blew their cauldrons and didn't read the instructions properly.

"Can't you do something about her, Potter?"

"Me? I don't make a habit out of disrupting my colleague's classes."

It was so far from the truth that not even james believed it.

"Well, I might have done something to her lipstick… but we have a line up of practice to draw."

Fred, George and Lee were enjoying some rest from their end of year intense study in the Ravenclaw common room. The students usually didn't even notice Fred had guests. It was so typical of them to get lost in their own activities, whether that was reading, writing, gazing into space, contemplating nothingness or meditating.

Fred was testing a colour changing spell while George had an eye on the Map, just to pass the time while his brother did the ravenclaw of the family and experimented.

"This looks better," said Lee. "I think we'll be ready for the end of year prank."

"Yeah, I asked professor Potter, who is really the best, about some pointers for the spell. It's some kind of transfiguration anyway and being a Ravenclaw nobody really bats an eyelid if I ask some extra questions."

"He seems to enjoy pranks anyway," George added. "Remember last year? He assigned us detention with him but at the end gave us points because we behaved well and because we would have given the 'Marauders' a run for their money."

"What did you say?" Fred asked, somehow urgently. He was multitasking between turning ties all sorts of colours and following the conversation.

"I was talking about last year—"

"Yeah, but the exact words you said. What professor Potter aka Harry's dad told us…" Fred was excited. They were onto something important here, without even realizing it.

"What, that we would have given the Marauders a r— the Marauders!" George had done the leap. "Do you really think this map is done by the same Marauders Harry's dad mentioned? Maybe he knows more about it!"

"That's quite possible," Lee interjected, "but do you feel confident going to him and asking him directly, like putting the map under his nose?"

"Maybe it would be stretching our chance too far, what if he confiscates it?" George asked worriedly.

"I don't think he'd do that, but you're right, we can't be sure," Fred reasoned.

"You know what," George suggested, "we could ask Harry, if he has ever eard about the Marauders from his dad. We could just tell him we've eard they were pranksters like us. We might show him the map if he promises not to tell."

"Why don't we go now?" Lee asked. He was getting tired of watching Fred going through the whole spectrum of colours.

"Yeah, good idea. I'm growing bored of this transfiguration business anyway. I think I've had enough practice for today and I'm almost there. Where's Harry, oh brother of mine?"

"It's strange," said George. "He's on a staircase. And he's not moving."

"Maybe he's talking to someone," Lee offered.

"Look at it for yourself, there's nobody there with him. He could be talking with a portrait…" George sounded unconvinced.

Three pairs of eyes converged on a still dot labeled 'Harry James Potter'. A dot which was unmoving on the staircase that led to the fourth floor. They stared at it maybe for a minute, before fear for their friend started to kick in.

"Let's go," said Fred, with a seriousness in his voice that was rarely heard. "Quick!"

Annabeth Case wasn't doing anything in particular. She was bored and this probably was due mostly to her ADHD. She was restless by nature and hated doing nothing. Resting was a privilegie she usually couldn't afford. A Greek monster could be right behind the corner, but no. She was getting paranoid. She wondered what Percy was doing, if he was about to be expelled once more from school — he had a yearly subscription to the club of the kicked out. From Percy she went to Harry; oh, how Percy would be gealous. He had never met Harry but had eard quite a lot of talk about the British wizard. Annabeth was sure that if the two met, Percy would change his mind. Harry was younger than them and was just a long time friend of Annabeth's. Like Luke. No, she couldn't allow herself to go down that dangerous road. She would not think about Luke. She took a golden drachma out of her purse and went to the bathroom. She opened the faucet and dropped the coin in the basin. The light of the morning Sun coming from the window was just at the right angle and was enough to create a raimbow and that was all she needed to send an Iris message to Harry. He'd probably be in his room, it was late afternoon in Scotland. He would pick her call up and they could have a quick chat. It was a while since they last talked.

"Oh Iris, goddess of the Rainbow, please accept my offering. Show me harry Potter at Hogwarts, school of Witchcraft and wizardry in Scotland," Annabeth invoked.

The coin wanished and Harry appeared. But he wasn't alone. Annabeth froze, her mouth open, a cheerful greeting turning into a scream of horror; but she couldn't scream. Nothing would come out of her mouth and, if she revealed her presence, she would be giving herself away to the wrong person, because that girl was surely the wrong person. She was good looking, with black eyes and black hair, probably around Annabeth's age. She wore green and silver, a Slytherin, then, her brain suggested. She had her wand aimed at Harry and she was muttering something she couldn't ear.

A red light hit her friend.

And Harry fell down a staircase with a horrible crash.

The girl bore a cold, satisfied smile on her face.

Annabeth couldn't keep the connection open. She was about to throw up. She dissolved the mist with her hand and leaned over the sink, trying to catch her breath. She hadn't been seen, she was sure. But she had witnessed something horrible. Someone had tried to murder her friend. She hoped Harry was still alive. The fall had looked terrifying. He had to be alive!

She needed to act, and fast.

Gemma Farley had finished her classes for the day. Charms with the Hufflepuffs was quite a relaxed affair and she loved the subject. She could've been a Ravenclaw, but her ambition had overruled over her hunger for knowledge and she had ended up in Slytherin. It wasn't bad per se, even if many students from other houses were rude and called her names. She didn't care. What really worried her were some of her housemates who freaked her out and were truly headed down the dark path, she was sure. One of them was that Delphini Lestrange. Too many students fell under her spell. She was good looking with her elegantly chiselled features; she was charismatic, smart, powerful and intimidating. Gemma couldn't say how many people followed her because they admired her and how many did it just out of fear. She hoped she would never have to succumb to that hag's will. Gemma was a half blood and she didn't have an overall easy life in her house, Lestrange being one of those who liked to make things hard for her.

She turned the corner and froze. Her bag fell on the ground, spilling out all her books, shattering her ink bottles and scattering all her notes. Her friend, Harry, lied unmoving at the bottom of the staircase, his back at a weird, too weird angle.

She screamed for help, till he heard frantic steps from the floor above.

End notes

I made Gemma slightly younger than canon and Delphini was obviously born far earlier than in canon.