Chapter Forty

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With Madam Pomfrey's insistent (and very annoying) fussing, Annabeth was up and walking again in no time. Her cuts healed, mostly, but the one on her chest just scabbed and stayed like that until it faded into a small scar.

A few days passed before Annabeth talked to Dumbledore again. No one talked to her about the third task except for Harry, Ron, and Hermione. She told Vera and Freddie, too, and they both wanted to do what they could. When Annabeth finally had the time to go to Dumbledore's office, Freddie went with her. She had something to say, too.

The stone gargoyle that marked the entrance jumped aside as they approached, as if Dumbledore was expecting them. They were supposed to be in Herbology, but Annabeth hadn't wanted to wait any longer; they didn't have enough free time to come after classes.

As the section of wall slid away to reveal the spiral staircase, Freddie gave Annabeth a nervous glance. Annabeth nodded encouragingly, and they went up.

"Enter," Dumbledore's voice said when they knocked on the door at the top of the stairs. He looked up as they entered. "Annabeth. And Miss Heningson. I can't say I expected the two of you to come together."

"But you expected me," Annabeth said. That much was obvious.

"I did," Dumbledore admitted. "Please, have a seat." After they sat, he continued. "I assume you want to discuss the killing curse?"

"In a way," Annabeth said. The press hadn't reported anything about what had happened the night of the third task, which was really testing Annabeth's patience. There was a mass murderer on the loose; the public should know about it, no matter what Fudge pudding thought. "Does Fudge know I survived it?"

"He does not."

"Good. I want to keep it that way," Annabeth said. "I'd like to keep that whole thing under wraps. I already get enough attention as a demigod. I don't need more."

"I quite agree," Dumbledore said, leaning forwards in his chair. "But I assume there is a reason that Miss Heningson is here other than moral support that I do not believe you need?"

"Uh, yeah," Freddie said, shifting slightly. "I think I can help a little."

"How so?"

"My parents," Freddie said, glancing at Annabeth again, "they used to be death eaters, so they probably went to him that night. We're not close. And they can be sloppy sometimes. They're not good at keeping secrets."

"You are proposing you spy on them," Dumbledore guessed.

"Not... maybe not spying, exactly, but... something like that," Freddie said. "I'm prepared to. I know it's risky, but I want to help."

"Thank you, Frederica," Dumbledore said. "That would be very helpful. I would like to discuss this with you further, but I must have a word with Annabeth first. If you will, please wait outside for a moment."

"Um... okay." Freddie squeezed Annabeth's shoulder on her way out.

"Now," Dumbledore said when the door had shut and Freddie was gone, "we must discuss the summer months. I would like you to stay with the Weasleys, where I can be sure you are safe. You are a target of Voldemort now. You must be protected."

Annabeth sighed. She had expected something like this, but she needed to go home.

"I'll be perfectly safe where I'm going," Annabeth said. "I can assure you."

"I know you believe that, but Voldemort is very capable of getting overseas in an instant," Dumbledore said. "There is no way of knowing for sure if, or when, he will come for you."

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