Work Header

Wands and Wavering Confidence

Chapter Text


Zeus, the Minister of Magic, felt the harsh glares of his psychotic wife across the mahogany desk in his office. With a rather tedious sense of déjà vu, Zeus met her stare with a bored one of his own. "Yes, Hera?" He said with emphasis through his teeth. If it were an option, he would divorce Hera. She scowled at him, but her glare didn't waver. "Is this about the affair, again?" Zeus sighed, leaning back into his unfortunately uncomfortable chair. Being the Minister wasn't all it was cracked up to be. So much work. So much effort. Sometimes Zeus wished he could just relax and cheat on his wife without a huge public uproar. The Daily Prophet was quick to inform wizards and witches of everything he did. Hera scowled again. "You imbecile." She hissed at him, with a harsh, loud slap on his cheek. "Not everything is about you," Hera continued, "This is about Gaea. She's back." The words hung in the air for a moment. "I'd rather deal with the Triwizard Tournament. Much more entertaining." Zeus replied eventually, poorly masking his shock. Hera seethed. Then she slapped him again. "Don't make a mockery of this situation. If word about this gets out, we're in trouble. Talk to your brothers. You're useless, but they might be able to do something."


Since her second year at Hogwarts, Annabeth's train journey had been chaotic. Now, she was on the Hogwarts Express once again, for her fifth year, with her many friends. Except Nico and Hazel, of course, who were only going in to fourth year. Crammed into one compartment were her, her adorable boyfriend Percy, Frank who was a metamorphugas, his sweet girlfriend Hazel, her "not emo" brother Nico, his "just friend" Will, Jason who was probably dating a brick, and his part-Veela girlfriend Piper. As expected, it was far too loud for Annabeth's taste. For a quarter of an hour, she smiled and joined in the one-hundred-and-one conversations, running her hand through her blonde princess curls to keep herself calm. But, fairly quickly, her patience scuttled away, neglected in the prescence of frustration. "Percy, I'm just going to take a breather. See you in a bit, okay?" She beamed at him fakely. "I didn't realise this compartment had no oxygen." Percy challenged, with an eyebrow raised. She nudged him playfully, and hopped out of the carriage without another word.

The train journey would nearly be over anyway. She'd spent most of the journey with the other new Prefects, making rounds. For Slytherin, it was her and a boy she didn't care to know the name of. For Gryffindor, it was Frank and -surprisingly- a badly behaved girl named Clarisse. For Ravenclaw, it was Jason's ex-girlfriend Reyna and a creepy, irritating boy named Octavian. No one was shocked to find out that Leo didn't make it as a Prefect. And then for Hufflepuff, it was her beloved Percy and a friend of Percy's who Annabeth was certain used to like Percy, Rachel. She was a star at Divination. Despite making rounds with all of these interesting people, a quarter of an hour was too long with that chaotic, crazy, creepy group of people she identified as friends. Any longer, and she would lose 50 brain cells. Drops of rain danced on the windows, which were steamed with condensation. Subconsciously, Annabeth drew a tree.



Unsurprisingly, both Poseidon and Hades were in the Lunch Hall at the Ministry of Magic. Hades' wife, Persephone, was feeding him spoonfuls of pomegranate seeds. He looked as grumpy as ever, despite having a beautiful witch on his lap, feeding him liks he was royalty. Poseidon was muttering to himself, and would randomly start laughing every now and then. He was probably telling himself puns. Zeus groaned inwardly. He detested his brothers. Hera must've been more mad than usual in order to suggest that they could help with Gaea. "Poseidon! Hades! My dear brothers!" Zeus exclaimed, all false niceties, just like for the press. "What do you want, Zeus?" Hades grumbled, clearly not appreciating human contact. "What makes you thi- ah, okay. Come to my office. We must....catch up." Poseidon tossed Zeus a bottle of ketchup. "Here you go then! You get it- ketchup, catch up? B-doom ts!" Poseidon laughed. Zeus wanted to die.

       Hours later, Zeus and his brothers were pondering on the prophecy that had just been revealed by a frightened prophetess. Her eyes had rolled back revealing milky white with red veins patterning them like rivers of fire. Thick, crepuscular smoke had poured from her crimson mouth as she spoke, taking raspy breaths between the powerful words.

"Seven students shall answer the call,

To storm or fire, the world must fall,

An oath to keep with a final breath,

And foes bear arms to the Doors of Death."


The badge felt far too weighty in Frank's robes. He'd felt the role of Prefect would be better suited to Jason. Although Hazel had assured him that it was a perfect decision and that he was deserving, Frank doubted it. Hazel had to say that stuff, right? She was his girlfriend, after all.

        Girlfriend. Frank loved to be able to call Hazel that. Though he'd never understood how he got someone as kind and fun and beautiful as her, Frank loved that his feelings weren't unrequited like he had expected. "Are you okay, man?" Jason asked suddenly, cutting him from his thoughts. "What?-- oh, yeah." Frank replied. Hazel squeezed his hand under the table. "You were lost in thought. Again. Your hair was going pink." She explained sweetly. Frank flushed. He hated how obvious his emotions were. Pink was clearly representing love. That wasn't the worst part of Frank's life, though. That would hands down go to that piece of firewood...

         Laughter rung across the Great Hall, disrupting the feast. It was coming from the Ravenclaw table. Valdez, of course. FFrank wrinkled his nose in distaste. Leo flirted with everyone, which of course included Hazel. Oh well. As much as he disliked the small Hispanic boy, he couldn't show that too much. 

       Eventually, the Feast ended and, with Clarisse, Frank led the first years to the Gryffindor Tower, blissfully unaware of the trouble arising that would, unfortunately, directly involve him.