Chapter Nineteen

Ok, so out of mostly guilt I have started to finish writing this. Bear with any plot holes, I am currently reworking it completely. I've finally decided on a Drarry. Thank you all for your support!

—

"Centurion?"

Draco knocked three times.

"Centurion Zhang?"

The door opened on the third knock and he gingerly stepped in.

"Hazel? Are you here?"

He jumped a little as the door shut behind him. Hazel stepped through an open entranceway at the back of the room which had beads hanging from the ceiling. She looked surprised, and a little bit hostile.

"Draco Malfoy?"

Draco shifted from foot to foot. He was beginning to think this was a mistake. "Centurion Zhang, I apologise for the intrusion-"

"No, no," she said, "Please come through. I'm just surprised, I didn't think you'd be back. Please come through, I'm sure we have things to discuss."

She turned and pushed through the beads. Draco followed her, a bit reluctantly. She was surely just going to start talking about his mistakes. As if he hasn't memorised them off by heart.

They entered into a small room which she obviously lived in. It had a side-table covered in knick-knacks and assorted deadly weapons, a ratty couch, a larger table with battle plans and other paperwork scattered over it, and a small kitchenette. Sorry, small? It was tiny, barely classifiable as a a kitchenette.

All in all, for a Roman Soldier, the place was a tip.

"Sorry about the mess," Hazel said. "No-one's allowed in here, and since I'm the one who does inspection every day on my soldiers, I can afford to be messy."

Draco nodded politely.

Draco stood awkwardly as Hazel made a cup on coffee from the multi-beverage brewer on the side-table in her room and looked out onto the fields where people were milling around in casual uniform.

This building was attached to the Fifth Cohort barracks, only accessible from the inside entrance, and this room had another door in the side, presumably that led to the sleeping quarters of the legionnaires so she could check on them. She had to look after them, it was her duty.

Luckily they had downtime at the moment and most people were out enjoying the sun. Frankly, he was surprised Hazel wasn't out there either.

Hazel finished what she was doing and came back over with two mugs. "Please sit."

Draco sat and took the glass which was offered to him. He took a small sip, despite the little voice in his head that screamed it was poison. Since the war people had threatened all sorts of things. Poison was one of the more regular ones. He knew Hazel would never do that, but still inwardly sagged in relief upon tasting tea.

"So," the centurion started. "I know you've had a conversation with Reyna."

Draco nodded.

"What did she say?"

"That I can't get my tattoo because the loose end of my tie to V-..Vol-... He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named will leak all my magic out."

Hazel nodded. "Pretty much yeah. One slight inaccuracy though, Your magic is already weakening. Ever since you got the mark you probably felt a constant drain. That was Voldemort using your magic to make himself more powerful. Since he died you've been even weaker, because rather than leaving you in a controlled manner and returning whatever Voldemort has no use for, it's all just spilling out."

Draco paled slightly. "Can it be fixed?"

Hazel's face turned hard. "With a powerful curse mark like that, only Hecate can fix it. The question remains: will she? You know she despises people like you."

He hung his head, staring at the ugly black mark poking out from under his sleeve.

"I'm sorry," he said, getting up to go. "You're right, I'll deal with this on my own."

"I didn't say she wouldn't," Hazel called. "Don't walk off. You won't know until you talk to her."

She got up herself and moved to a bare corner of the room. With a wave of her hand, a door appeared. She pulled it open and gestured for Draco to follow her. They walked down a few stairs into a room which was surprisingly bright for a dungeon.

On one of the work tables was a stack of Daily Prophets, and Draco balked at the thought that of course Hazel knew everything about the Wizarding World, she was Hecate's best and favourite student.

She turned back to him.

"Listen, Draco... I can't promise anything. I know we were friends two years ago, but I always knew that Voldemort was returning, and I knew there was very little chance you wouldn't be on his side. Realistically, I thought you would never return, would go to Azkaban instead, or else live a secluded life in the Manor."

"I almost did both those things," he admitted.

"But I understand you regret everything, and that's the only leniency you'll get from the goddess."

As if on cue, smoke started roiling out the vents, and as it dissipated, left Hecate herself standing there with her Dalmatian and skunk, both growling at him.

Draco dropped into a low bow. Hazel just nodded.

"Draco Malfoy," she said, silencing her pets with a wave of her hand. "I understand what you want me to do. After all, I see everything my followers do."

He straightened up uneasily. "My Lady, I-"

He trailed off as Hecate strode forwards and seized his arm in a bruising grip. She ran icy fingers along it and the snake writhed as if she were the Dark Lord himself. He felt his knees go weak and his skin pale at the thought.

"Impressive spell work," she said to herself. "He was always an incredibly gifted young boy. I'm not sure any of my demigod children could do better."

"Is it possible to be removed?"

Hecate hummed. "I suppose. But my, my, the self-professed 'Dark Lord' certainly had his hooks deep into you. I'm rather in awe."

"Of dark magic?"

Her eyes snapped to his. "There is no such thing as dark magic or light magic. There is only magic, and the people who use it."

Draco swallowed as she released his arm and walked back to stand next to Hazel.

"There is only one way I'll do it."

"I accept," Draco said.

"Don't you want to know what it entails?"

"You're my goddess. I'd do anything you say, I trust you. Plus I'm desperate."

—

"Wake."

One word and Draco startled to his senses, still leaning against the tree, but this time unbound. Unsteadily he got to his feet.

The witch-woman Fae was standing a few feet away, unconcerned. Slowly Draco reached for his wand, which had been left on the ground beside him, and brought it up to his side.

"Drop it."

He dropped it without hesitation, gritting his teeth.

"What are you?" He asked, eyeing the creatures dragging themselves about the camp suspiciously.

She pouted at him mockingly. "Oh, you must know. Who else could boss you about like this?"

He flashed a taut smile bordering on grimace. "I somehow doubt that a follower of Hecate would hang around this lot."

"Not just a follower," she corrected, starting to pace towards him. "I was one of her attendants. A gifted, personal pupil. But of course she never noticed. Hasn't even noticed me gone. I still possess her power as a follower, and her gifts, and she never cared enough to revoke them. But that's the gods for you."

"You're a Mormo," Draco realised, tilting his head away from the rapidly approaching woman.

She bared her teeth at the form of address and her edges grew a bit wispy, like a ghost.

"I prefer the full term. 'Mormo' is just so rude."

"I apologise," Draco bit out, her teeth uncomfortably close to his face.

"Say it nicely," she rasped.

He clenched his teeth. "I apologise, Fae, ma'am."

"Oh," she hummed, and rested her fangs against his ear. Nicer."

Draco's breath quickened. "Mormolykeia, I am your servant-"

Her fangs tightened on his earlobe, drawing pinpricks of blood, ready to tear and bite at a moment's notice. He knew what she wanted.

"I apologise, Mistress."

She pulled back and smiled sickly. "That's better. Now," she spun away from him. "Pick up your wand. Do not attack or cast spells against me or any of my army. We've got work to do. Follow me."

Against his will, a feeling he'd got uncomfortably used to in his short life, he followed her.

—

Harry was pacing restlessly. Neville was obsessively checking the register, like a student would suddenly disappear, or Malfoy would materialise out of it.

The door opened.

"So, umm," Percy started, hair messier than Harry had ever seen. "We think it might be a good time to explain some stuff."

"Now?" Neville asked incredulously.

Percy rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well, the others are busy and I was just cluttering up space, so..."

"Have you found Draco?" Harry asked.

The worry in Percy's voice was evident. "No. But we're looking into it. Anyway..."

He glanced helplessly at Piper. She had a much better way with words.

"We're the children of the gods," she said.

Wow, blunt much.

"Piper! I was gonna ease them in."

She shrugged. "Not a great time Perce."

The wizard children assembled, especially those who hadn't spent the majority of the year spying on their teacher in a borderline-creepy way, stood astounded.

"I'm sorry, can you repeat that," one of the Gryffindors said softly.

"Not God-with-a-capital-'G'-God," Piper hurried. "No, the Greek gods, ancient ones. Or Roman, depending. They were immortal, so they're still alive, and we're their half-mortal offspring. I'm a daughter of Aphrodite, Percy is a son of Poseidon."

There was a silence that everyone but Piper felt was unbearably awkward.

"Prove it," Hermione said, at the same time Ron said "You're kidding me."

"Jump twice, cross your legs, touch your toes then fall over," Piper said effortlessly. In a truly hilarious display that at any other time would have any spectators clutching their stomachs, Ron did exactly that, ending lying on the floor still touching his toes.

"Imperius," Hermione said simply.

"Didn't feel like Imperius to me," Ron said, eying some of the weaker-minded students straining to jump or bend down, or swaying wildly.

"Neville?" Percy asked simply. The boy nodded, raising his wand.

He conjured a jet of water, and Percy formed a hurricane with it, spraying jets out and dousing the pupils just cause he was an asshole, before placing it gently in a cup that Neville also conjured. The smoothness of the whole act was testament to the amount of times they had used it to convince in-denial demigods.

"You know, this makes sense now," one of the Gryffindors said thoughtfully.

"What, was Percy suspicious like always?" Piper asked.

The girl smirked cheekily and fluttered her eyelashes. "I was talking about the god-like good looks, but potato-potaato."

Her boyfriend face-palmed and looked away as Percy stammered and blushed, and the girl cackled to herself.

"You know no matter how much we predicted this, it's still shocking," Hermione said.

"I'd of thought we were used to it," Ron said, extricating himself out of the tangled heap he was in on the floor.

"You thought he was a Death Eater from his tattoo," Harry pointed out.

Percy's eyebrows flickered. He pulled up his sleeve. "This?"

From this close they could clearly see it was a simple SPQR tattoo, with a trident and a tally beneath.

"Well, I can see how you might think that," Neville said, drawing up his own sleeve to reveal the black letters and a sheaf of corn, only one tally.

"You're a demigod," Ron said, sitting back down. "Right? That's what the tattoo means?"

"Sort of?" Piper answered. "The tattoo means you're a Roman demigod, or at least an honorary one. Greeks don't have it. We just have our necklaces."

"You're the son of a god. An actual god."

Neville looked worriedly at Ron. "No, actually. I'm only a descendant. A legacy, we call it. Of Ceres, goddess of agriculture."

"That explains a few things," Hermione said, rubbing circles on Ron's back. "Are there other demigods or, er, legacies at Hogwarts?"

"Yes," Luna said slowly, insinuation lacing her voice.

There was a pause. "You?"

"Daughter of Athena," she answered proudly.

"And then there's Daphne, Bill, McGonagall, Dwayne, Tracy, Draco-"

"Malfoy?"

"Are you not more surprised about the others?" Luna asked.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know them, and everyone always knew McGonagall had to be a goddess, but Malfoy?"

"Son of Nemesis, goddess of revenge," Percy said.

Harry shook his head in bewilderment, wandering to the window to clear his head. Dimly he heard Ron - "That explains why he only looks like his father."

"Er, guys," he called as his eyes fell on the sight before him. "Did you ever find Malfoy?"

"No," Neville answered. "Why?"

He joined Harry at the window, and gasped. At the head of a monstrous army was a wispy ghost-like woman, a snake-woman on her left, and on her right-

"I think I've found him," Harry said faintly.

—

Once again sorry for the wait. I'll do my best to bang out an ending, then I'll go back and re-write it.

Also FYI from now on my username will be WasALostBoy. I have a Wattpad, Ao3 and Tumblr under the same name, come check me out, especially Wattpad.

Thank you all.

Star xx