Chapter 4
Hazel sorted through her luggage, before nodding in confirmation. No money. Apparently they had some at the bank, left by their parents. However, they had none to start. She sighed quietly. Looked like no breakfast.
After getting ready, she left her suitcase in her room and walked out to Frank’s door. She knocked on his first. It was only a moment before he opened the door, changed and dressed as well. By the looks of it, he hadn’t slept well either. Jet-lag sucked, Hazel had decided.
“We still have an hour and a half until the teacher comes,” Hazel said, walking over to Percy and Annabeth’s door, knocking on it loudly. “I didn’t bring any money.”
“Me neither,” Frank sighed, shoulders slumping. Hazel looked back with a smile. She gently bumped their shoulders. Frank smiled back. He was as cute as ever.
Hazel was fourteen and Frank was now seventeen. They’d celebrated his birthday together.
She loved him, she’d realized a while ago. It started as a crush, but she was pretty sure it was love. Frank felt the same way.
But…
But they’d originally only known each other a few months. Then the war had started. The two had talked and they’d decided that, while they both knew they loved each other, they wanted to take some time to really know each other until they dated. Frank said he’d like to wait until she was at least sixteen to give dating a try, give her some more time to figure herself out for herself. He was doing the same.
Honestly, it was another reason she continued to be in love with him.
At first it was a little awkward, to find the ground of platonic when both had romantic feelings. However, they found their footing pretty quickly, and Hazel could confidently say she liked Frank as a friend as well.
They weren’t the only ones.
Piper and Jason had taken a moment as well. Though both loved each other so much, Piper wanted to get to know each other without false memories.
Their first official date would be next week.
Hazel was pulled from her thoughts by Percy opening the door and letting them in. Annabeth was rummaging around her own suitcase, looking for something.
“Small problem,” Frank said as he sat on a spindly chair that looked like it would break in a soft breeze. Shockingly, it held. Frank looked a little disappointed that it didn’t comically break under him as he continued. “We have no wizard currency. We can’t get breakfast.”
“Not a problem at all,” Annabeth said, before giving a triumphant noise. She pulled out a reusable lunch bag. Percy produced his own and two others.
“My mom and I made these.” He handed Hazel and Frank their own. The two opened them without hesitation. Hazel was met with a few containers in the cooler bag. One was a large, flat container that held chocolate chip pancakes when she cracked it open. Another had some fruits in it– mostly strawberries and blueberries with a few green grapes (her favorite kind of grape). The final one had a bit of yogurt and granola. She wasted no time grabbing the metal spoon in the bag and mixing in the granola and some of the fruit into her yogurt. She loved when Mrs. Jackson– “call me Sally, dear”-- and Percy came together to create a meal. Frank grinned from his similar bag– the only difference being that his fruits were slightly different and had deviled eggs as opposed to yogurt.
“I love you and your mom,” Frank said, eating his chocolate chip pancakes with his hands like the heathen he and Percy were. Hazel and Annabeth shared an amused glance before using their provided utensils to eat their own.
After a lovely breakfast and tucking away their lunch bags, the four of them headed down to the main area of the Leaky Cauldron– why was it called that?-- to wait for the professor to arrive and pick them up.
The four of them generally people watched the odd pub-goers and made small conversation. Before long, the owner walked up to them with an incredibly short man. He looked like the goblins Hazel recalled reading about. He gave them all a bright smile.
“This ‘ere’s the Professor Flitwick to take ya to your school supplies.”
The owner left as Professor Flitwick spoke.
“Hello!” He greeted in a cheerful, slightly squeaky voice. However, it was easy to hear him over the soft din of the pub. “As Tom said-” oh, was that his name? “I’m Professor Flitwick! I’ll be your charms professor and your head of house if you end up in Ravenclaw. Come, come, come. We’ll head to the bank first so that you all may get whatever you need from your vaults.
They followed the short man out of the back door of the pub and into a small, enclosed brick space. Hazel saw Percy and Annabeth lace their hands together and winced slightly. Enclosed spaces did not agree with them. Not after-
Hazel turned her eyes forward as Professor Flitwick produced his wand and tapped seemingly random spots on the brick wall before them. The teens watched in awe as the wall fell away revealed a bustling alley filled with color, sound, and people in robes rushing back and forth.
“Stay close, now!” Professor Flitwick called. “If you get lost, we’ll be going to Gringotts, the large white building at the end of the alley!”
Hazel could see the wonky building at the end and heard Annabeth begin grumbling under her breath about architecture. From Percy’s grin, it was not all compliments. Without further preamble, Professor Flitwick dove into the crowd and Hazel and Frank scrambled to keep up so as to not lose the short man.
Percy and Annabeth, meanwhile, strolled casually hand in hand, taking in the sights.
“It’s beautiful, even if it is chaotic,” Percy commented with a smile.
“Still doesn’t beat camp, though.”
Percy smiled down at her, winding an arm around her hip. “Nothing does.”
The two arrived at the bank within a few seconds of the other three. Intimidating goblin guards stood at the doors, Percy admiring their spears as he passed.
“Clarisse would like them,” he said in Greek to Annabeth.
“The goblins or the spears?”
“Both.” The two chuckled.
“Alright, just head up to a teller to get to your vaults,” Professor Flitwick said. “I’ll be waiting up here until you’re done.”
With that, he walked over to some benches along the walls and sat.
The demigods carefully did not flinch when there were sudden weights in their hands. Each one opened their hands to see keys on their palms. Each had a symbol of their parents as the key end. Hazel’s and Frank’s were imperial gold, while Annabeth’s and Percy’s were celestial bronze.
“Well, guess these are the vault keys.”
They each split up to get into separate lines, Annabeth and Percy staying together and hopping into line behind a tall man with long, extremely pale blond hair. He strode up to the teller.
“Teller goblin,” he started in the poshest voice Percy had ever heard. “I require a withdrawal.”
“Why is he talking like that?” Percy whispered in greek.
“I have no clue.”
“Vault?” The goblin asked in a bored tone as he wrote in a book on the table.
“675.”
“Name?”
“Lucius Malfoy.”
“Key?”
He sniffed, but pulled a key from his pocket and laid it on the counter. The goblin put down his writing quill– Percy was not looking forward to using one– and picked up the key. They held it, flipped it, brought it up to a desk lamp, and then nodded.
“Terrorheel will take you down.”
A goblin appeared out of nowhere– they walked very swiftly but silently in from around the corner– and startled Lucius Malfoy. He sniffed again, the same disdainful sneer on his face that had been there since he started. The teller handed the other goblin– Terrorheel, apparently– the key.
“Follow me,” Terrorheel said flatly, before speeding away, not bothering to see if he followed. And follow he did, at an awkward half-speedwalk-half-jog. It was pretty funny.
“Well his vibes were rancid,” Annabeth muttered. The two stepped up to the teller.
“Hello,” Percy greeted. “We’d like to make a withdrawal please.”
“Separately, actually, though we were hoping to go to them together?”
The goblin sighed. ‘Broadaxe’ his name plate read.
“Very well. You first.” He pointed to Percy. “Vault?”
“I don’t actually know,” Percy said. “But my dad gave me a key.”
Broadaxe sighed again and held out his hand.
“Name for the logs– yours, not your father’s.”
“Percy Jackson,” Percy said, handing the key over. Broadaxe gave him a look over the spectacles.
“Full first name?”
Percy grumbled for a second. “Perseus.”
Broadaxe nodded, jotting something down, before he inspected the key. His eyes widened slightly before he held it up to the lamp light. He was frozen for a moment, before looking Percy and Annabeth up and down. His eyes landed on their camp beads.
Percy, catching on to what he was looking for, glanced around for a moment, before pulling up his sleeve to expose his SPQR brand. He rolled it back down.
Broadaxe nodded, handing the key back as another goblin walked over. Annabeth handed hers over next.
“Annabeth Chase,” she said clearly. Broadaxe wrote it down, checked the authenticity of the key– Percy assumed that’s what he was doing– before handing the key back.
“Skullbreaker will bring you down to your vaults.”
The two passed by Hazel and Frank as they were all led to their vaults. Glances were exchanged as they all mutually decided: yep, this was pretty weird even for them.