Chapter Seventeen

The Little Tiber was just as he remembered it. Neville only had to show the two guards at the door his tattoo and they let him past amiably, while Draco flashed his probatio tablet and they subsided, glaring at him with all the menace of a Roman soldier.

Draco wasn't new to New Rome. It had been two years. The last time he'd been was after Fifth Year (and really the last good memories before Voldemort was killed).

"Remember this place?" Neville asked, breathing in the scent of the river and grass as he walked over the (newly constructed) ornate covered bridge.

"Yeah," he replied quietly.

Neville gently knocked Draco's shoulder with his own. "Don't worry, everything will be fine. You'll get your tattoo this year, I know it."

"I wasn't worried," Draco sniffed pretentiously. "If anyone was worried it's you."

Neville laughed at that. "Prissy pureblood always, huh?"

Draco's eye twitched.

Neville winced. "Too soon? Sorry."

"No. NO!" Draco replied. "Don't apologise, NEVER apologise. I'm the one who should be sorry. I am sorry. You wouldn't have had to go through all of that last year if not for me and my classmates. Most of those tortures the Carrows gave you last year was because of us."

Neville paused and turned Draco to look at him. "Draco! Don't beat yourself up about it. You warned me when you were leaving camp two years ago. You told me not to expect us to fight on the same side."

"It shouldn't have happened. Doesn't matter if I warned you or not."

"Of course it does! I know what it's like for your family to expect things from you. Mine was willing to let me drown off Blackpool Pier if I turned out not to have magic. I can only imagine how much worse it would have been for you."

Draco clenched his fist. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Pity me!" Draco shouted, turning fiercely. "Everyone pities me! 'How hard it must be for poor Draco, his family have practised Dark Arts for centuries, did you know his father is in Azkaban?' Well guess what, I do know and I don't need anyone else to tell me I'm a disappointment!"

He whirled around angrily and marched over the Little Tiber with steps that made even the enchanted wooden planks shake slightly.

He stepped out into the sunshine and marched down to the reception desk where most new arrivals were registered and assigned someone to take them to where they needed to be (which was usually the infirmary or the baths).

To Draco's surprise, as he approached the squat building a hundred yards upstream where a pudgy ghost was typing on a computer (don't ask, I don't know), he saw a group of Hecate's children and followers glaring daggers at him as they walked in his direction.

He kept his head down. Hecate children would no doubt know everything about the wizarding world. Most of them passed without saying anything, but one girl walked up to him and shoved him out the way, almost tipping him into the Tiber. She caught him by the arm and hauled him back up, deftly rolling up his arm sleeve to expose the Dark Mark as she did so.

The group visibly recoiled as if it was emitting some foul odour.

"Filthy Death Eater," she hissed, eyes flashing as if she was scared. "Crawl back to Azkaban."

She dropped him unceremoniously on the ground and beat a hasty retreat, casting one fearful look over her shoulder.

He lay there in shock. For a second he though he might cry, but it quickly turned to hate. Which made him feel like crying again because that was what Voldemort wanted: hate.

"Draco!"

Neville was running after him. He got to his feet, brushed himself down and sneered at Neville, turning his back to instead walk up to the receptionist ghost.

"Name," the ghost said, bored, raising one eyebrow at him, then looking at his now covered arm and looking away.

"Draco," he sad. "Draco Malfoy."

"Yes I know who you are," the ghost said, gazing at his computer screen. "Reyna wants to see you."

"Why?"

The ghost shrugged. "Why don't you ask her yourself?"

The sound of wingflaps filled the air, and Draco turned to see a huge mass of feathers and claws in his face. Hippogriff! Was his first thought. His next was: Praetor!

"Praetor Reyna," Draco said respectfully as she dismounted the pegasus (definitely a pegasus), purple cloak of Athena shimmering and blowing in the wind.

"Draco Malfoy," she replied regally. "I wish to speak with you." She turned to her pegasus. "Guido, please return to the stables, I need to talk to Mister Malfoy. We can go for a fly this evening."

Guido nickered gently and nudged his head into Reyna's shoulder, turned and took off.

Draco tried not to look too intimidated by the 'talking to' he was about to get.

"You look terrified," she commented. Drat, it wasn't working.

Neville ran up to the two of them. "Draco! Praetor Reyna! Senatus Populusque Romanus!" Draco realised he should have probably led with that. "What's going on?"

"Legionnaire Longbottom, sign in and report at the Sixth Cohort barracks," she said brusquely. "I don't expect to be questioned by you."

He bobbed his head. "Yes Praetor. Sorry Praetor."

She addressed Draco again. "Come with me."

He followed her gingerly. They walked in silence up to Temple Hill. He was a bit out of breath and slightly sweaty from the heat of summer but she hadn't even a hair out of place, let alone sweat.

She turned sharply as they crested the hill. "Let me see," she ordered.

"See?"

"Your mark. Let me see it."

Draco bit his lip. He didn't want to show her his Dark Mark, but she was staring at him intently, as if she were looking into his soul.

Gingerly he lifted his sleeve. She studied it silently.

"I don't know much about the magical arts," she said "And what I do know is that they are closely guarded. Since I heard about what happened over the last two years, I spoke to the Hecate kids."

Draco's throat was so dry it felt like it was flaking. "What- what did they say?"

"That you're evil," she replied conversationally. "I haven't had an extended conversation with you since Neville first brought you here- how many years ago?"

"It was after Fourth Year, so three years ago."

Reyna nodded. "And as I recall, the year after - the summer of your fifth year, if I'm correct - you saved Neville and earned your stripe."

"I didn't get my stripe," he blurted out. "I had to leave early."

"I know. You haven't been back since."

"Praetor-"

Reyna shook her head. "Wait. I know you think you will get your tattoo this year, since you didn't two years ago, but from my experience, a lot can happen in two years, and it can change people. I went from being a spa attendant to a pirate in the space of two months."

"You don't have to," Draco said quickly, a blind panic settling in. "I can re-earn it-"

"Let me finish," she snapped. "Firstly, your Dark Mark is a curse mark, binding you too your previous master. At the moment the loose end where Voldemort once was is healing over, so to speak. We cannot burn over it or risk ripping the other end out and your magic leaking out and you dying of magic loss."

"That could happen?"

'Reyna shrugged. "According to Hecate, and she's a goddess."

Draco felt a bit sick. "Can't you get rid of it without my magic bleeding away?"

"I can't, but Hecate can."

For a moment he felt relieved, like the weight of the world was off his shoulders.

"But she won't."

The weight was back, heavier than before as the knowledge that a goddess (and the goddess he followed no less) despised him crushed him from the inside out.

"In her eyes," Reyna continued stoically, despite the fact that Draco knew she knew what he was feeling. "You have committed a grave sin by taking that Mark."

"I just want to be rid of it!" He said. "I don't care if I never cast another spell for the rest of my life, I just want to get rid of it!"

"It's not the mark itself," Reyna said, confusing him yet more. "It's definitely not the so-called dark arts, most of Hecate's followers - at least in camp - know at least one dark spell and many have extensive knowledge. It's the vow you took with the mark. That you would eradicate magic in some people. To swear to destroy your kin is a grave misuse of the gifts that she gave you. I'm sorry."

He felt like his throat was swelling up, like he wanted to scream and curse and wipe the gods off this planet, like he wanted to wipe himself off this planet.

"I'll leave," he said quietly, already thinking of the Malfoy Manor with only his mother and the paintings that shouted abuse at him. "Soon. I didn't have any stuff anyway."

"Did I say you could leave?"

His eyebrows creased.

"Just because you cannot permanently join the legion does not mean you should leave. You are close friends with Neville, right? He stood for you. I'm sure you can be on probatio for as long as he agrees."

Draco felt a pang of gratefulness towards Reyna, and was immediately struck with shame. He shouldn't want to stay away from the wizarding world and his mother alone in a house full of dark arts. He should be there, supporting her.

But all he wanted to do was escape.

"I... I accept," he said.

Reyna smiled. "Good. As far as I can tell, you aren't at all what the Hecate kids said. I always make my own judgements, and often it pays off."

"Thank you for giving me a chance."

"I must warn you, it won't be easy."

Draco bit his lip. He knew. But whatever was served up at Camp, would be a hundred times worse at home. The Daily Prophet had been commenting on him and the rest of Slytherin almost every day. McGonagall and Potter's sanity was questioned in why he would side with him, and every time he went out, a curse managed to find it's way to his person.

There were only two or three dozen followers, children or descendants of Hecate in active service at that moment. It was better to stay.

—

The Great Hall was in uproar as professors, hunters and demigods rushed around in a panic. A small group was gathered around one of the tables - probably the Hufflepuff one though it was hard to tell - where about six hunters were laying on the table, and many more were nursing cuts and broken bones on the tables around.

Madame Pomfrey and Will were at the centre of the hurricane, a calm eye in the middle of the storm, trying their best to heal Thalia, who was suffering from manticore poisoning, made worse by the amount of time they had had to wait before bringing her here.

Leo felt useless. He was mostly just door duty. Every now and then someone would give him an order and he would scamper off and bring them what they needed but there were so many other people it was really pot luck on who was chosen.

Leo perked up as he heard Piper's voice echo across the hall forcefully. "Stay awake! Thalia, do you hear me? Do not fall asleep!"

Any sleepy faces disappeared. Piper was so strong now, it was sometimes scary.

"Piper!" Leo heard Jason exclaim. He couldn't see what was happening. "Piper are you okay?"

"Get her out of here!" Will told him. "She's too weak from the pregnancy, she'll only get weaker!"

The crowd parted as Jason and Piper came through, Piper leaning heavily on him.

"Leo!" Jason called. "Help me with Piper!"

Leo rushed forwards and took Piper's other arm. She sagged gratefully.

"I never thought pregnancy would sap this much energy from the daughter of love," she quipped tiredly. "Jason, stay behind, you need to be with your sister."

Jason spared time for one sidewise glance at Leo. "Okay, Leo take her to the classroom with the students. She'll be safe there."

Leo nodded and Jason ran back to the crowd. "Come on Beauty Queen," he said. "You need to rest."

—

Getting to the classroom mainly consisted of asking paintings where to go. The room was warded by a paranoid old history teacher (before Binns' time), which was why it was being used now.

Hermione, Harry and Ron were sitting in a corner and talking quietly and urgently under their breath. A small Ravenclaw first year was talking to two Hufflepuff second years and a Gryffindor third year in an animated voice, and the older students seemed to humouring him with slow, thoughtful nods.

A couple of Slytherin third years were sitting in silence at the front, staring at a Gryffindor fifth year who was trying to balance a pencil on her nose - to the embarrassment of her seventh year Hufflepuff boyfriend next to her.

The only other people were a haughty-looking Ravenclaw girl and a timid Hufflepuff boy.

When they arrived, Neville (looking frazzled) took their names down and cast a cushioning charm on a chair, telling Piper to sit down and relax. "I don't know how professors do it," he said. "This is so stressful."

"Calm down," Piper said gently, "Take a deep breath."

Neville smiled and his tense shoulders relaxed. "Thank you."

"Whoa!" Leo said to her. "Don't use charmspeak! Jason will kill me!"

Piper smiled. "Of course. Just don't tell him."

Leo would refuse anyone's claims that Piper didn't have a devious side. But then again his cause would be helped if he could remember any examples of this side of her.

"Are you okay?"

Leo turned to see a bushy haired girl coming up. Hannah...Harriet... was that her name? It was something complicated, something unusual.

"Harpsichord!" Leo said. "Don't worry, Pipes is fine, just pregnancy weakness."

Hermione looked confused. "Hi, we haven't met, my name's Hermione."

"Hermione, nice to meet you," Leo said quickly. "I wasn't calling you Harpsichord, just to clarify. That's just a greeting I sometimes use. Like, 'hey, harpsichord are you?' sort of thing."

He internally cringed and Piper snorted loudly.

"Hi," Hermione said unsurely. "Leo, is it? I can cast some calming charms if you want."

"Don't worry about it," Piper said. "I'm fine."

Neville looked over his list carefully and frowned. "Everyone! Please be quiet, I need to go over this again."

There was immediate silence.

"Are Alex Beringue and Nancy Louise from Ravenclaw here?" He asked.

"We're here," the haughty girl answered, the small boy nodding along.

Neville ticked twice. "Rosemary Adler and Tyler Fougère from Gryffindor?"

The girl with the pencil on her nose nodded and the one listening to the Ravenclaw answered "Present!"

Neville nodded. "Okay, Hermione- yes, me- yes, Harry- yes, Ron- yes. That's everyone from Gryffindor. Charles Craven from Hufflepuff?"

The girl-with-the-pencil-on-her-nose's boyfriend nodded.

"Archibald Drew? Natasha Highland?"

The two listening to the Ravenclaw boy nodded.

"And Benjie Port?"

The timid Hufflepuff nodded.

Neville seemed to get more agitated. "Raven McLaggen and Eftihia X...ze-nak..?"

"Eftihia Xenakis," one of the Slytherins corrected. "Se-na-kis. We're both here."

Neville nodded. "Draco's still not here," he muttered under his breath. "Raven, Eftihia, have you seen Draco Malfoy?"

Eftihia shook her head. "He's four years above us and a boy. We're not allowed in the boy's dorms."

"Anyone else seen him?"

"Not since yesterday afternoon," Harry said. "He wasn't at dinner."

Neville bit his lip. "Raven, Eftihia, you're only Third Year, you can't go looking for him, I need to keep everyone together."

"Neville, we'll go," Harry suggested. "We'll check out the Slytherin dorms."

"Thank you," Neville said, looking relieved.

"I'll go too," Leo offered. "I'm good in a sticky situation!"

Neville looked worriedly at Piper. She glared.

"I'm not an invalid it's because I'm pregnant, Longbottom!" She said heatedly. "Send Leo, I'm perfectly fine."

Rosemary (the girl with the pencil on her nose) gave a miniature round of applause and wolf-whistled appreciatively. Her boyfriend sighed and looked anywhere but at Piper.

"The password is Merlin562," Raven said quietly.

"Thank you," Harry said. "Ron, Hermione, are you coming?"

"Actually," Neville interrupted. "Could you two - Ron and Hermione - go down to the Great Hall and check whether he's there, or if anyone has seen him? Don't ask more than one person though, they're very busy."

Hermione nodded and headed off with Ron. Harry looked sideways at Leo (whose hands were fiddling with something inside his tool belt) and started out the door.

"You'll have to lead me," Leo said. "I don't have a clue where we're going."

"The dungeons," Harry replied. "Underneath the lake."

"Cool," Leo replied happily.

They walked in silence for a while, corridors that all looked the same merging into one long hallway dotted with paintings and suits of armour. Leo took out a piece of wire and started to twist it absentmindedly.

Harry broke the silence. "So...what's your deal?"

Leo shrugged. "I dunno. I'm only here because Percy invited me. The only thing I know is that this is a magic school. I tuned out after ten seconds in the meeting. Hazel was mad."

"She's a witch, isn't she," Harry asked. "She had a wand."

"Uh-huh. But I think she prefers the term sorcerer or enchantress."

"Not sorceress?"

Leo shrugged. "I think it's because she says that magic has no labels. She doesn't like being called a magician's assistant though." He rubbed his head. "To be fair, I kind of had that coming."

Harry agreed. He wouldn't want to be called a magician's assistant either.

The two of them stepped onto a staircase and stood still as it swung around and deposited them into a corridor on the opposite wall, before sinking down and coming to rest at the entrance to a third hallway.

Leo looked down. "There are safety mechanisms, right?"

Harry nodded. "Oh yeah. Loads of people try to slide down the banisters, so there are a whole load of cushioning charms at the bottom for when they fall. Plus sometimes you get on the wrong staircase so some people try to jump across to another while it's still moving. Often falling."

"You need to label the things," Leo muttered. "Better yet, install elevators."

"Most of the time it's fine," Harry said nonchalantly, leading Leo to the right.

The wide corridor tapered off into a narrow, low doorway some meters ahead, and a suit of armour was standing with it's knees slightly bent so it's head didn't knock on the ceiling.

"Does the whole house have to come through here whenever they need to get back to their dorms?" Leo asked, ducking under the frame. "Seems dumb."

"Nah, this is just a shortcut," Harry answered. "Most people never come down here, but it's a great way to get from History to the Great Hall quickly."

Just through the low doorway the corridor turned sharply to the left and there was a rectangular hole in the wall, covered by the back of a large canvas. Harry went up and knocked three times. The canvas swung open outwards like a door and let the two out into the intersection of three spacious corridors that Leo vaguely recognised.

He saw a half-melted suit of armour. "Hey! I know this place!"

"Yeah, the Great Hall is just down there," Harry pointed to his left.

Leo frowned suddenly. "But..." he ran the schematics through his head. "This is three floors below us... How did that happen? Was that corridor a slope? Even so it was far to short to get us down this low..."

"Magic."

"I got that," he grumbled.

Harry cracked a smiled at Leo's disturbed expression. "After seven years you get used to it," he justified. "Plus I have a map that show all the corridors of Hogwarts, even the secret ones. It's really useful."

"Where can I get one?" Leo said eagerly.

"It's unique."

"Even better."

"Not up for sale."

"Spoilsport."

Harry laughed. By this time they were down deeper and the walls were grey and damp. Harry stopped sharply. "Here we are."

"Er, Harry...it's just a wall."

His lip's twitched. "Merlin562," he spoke.

The wall shifted and parted, revealing a hidden room.

"Whoa! Nice!" Leo exclaimed, placing his hand on the wall. "And no mechanics either. Magic is so weird."

Harry rolled his eyes and led him down to the green lit common room full of plush armchairs and tables, the fireplace burning with a sickly yellow flame.

Leo looked around approvingly. "Nice furniture. Do you know where they got it? I need some armchairs for Bunker 9."

"Most of it is probably old and was donated to the school," he said. "I think the dorms are this way."

Harry led them down a corridor to the right where there was a set of stairs. As they were about to take a step down an invisible force propelled them backwards and they landed with a thump on the thick carpet.

"That's the girl's rooms," Harry said. "No boys allowed."

"Couldn't they have gone with a less violent way of saying 'no boys'? Like, perhaps a sign?"

Harry laughed. "Hogwarts really should invest in signs. It would make everyone's lives so much easier."

They headed down the other corridor on the right and to a set of stairs. After a brief debate, they took the set of stairs up (there was also a staircase going down) and came out on a landing with a row of doors, each with a metal plaque engraved with names.

None of them had Malfoy written on them. There was one more staircase up and the two took it, going right up to the topmost room. There was one door and on it was a metal sheet with only one name written on it: Draco Malfoy.

"He gets a dorm alone?" Harry asked incredulously. "Most seventh years do, usually, but with the amount of students coming in we all have to share because no-one would allow their children to be educated in England while the threat of Voldemort was still around. So now a whole bunch of students have come back."

"Maybe there are less Slytherins," Leo suggested.

Harry rumbled in his throat discontentedly. He knew that was true, but there were still enough to warrant sharing. He pushed the door open.

It was a sparse, small room, bathed in murky green and normal light, for the window was only half submerged while the other half was above water level. It was sparse and tasteful. Minimal amount of green and a lot of heavy wooden furniture.

There was a desk and a shelf, a wardrobe and a small, single bed, as well as a door that Harry presumed lead off to the bathroom.

"Malfoy?" Harry called. No answer. He opened the door to the bathroom. Empty. So was the wardrobe, which Leo checked.

"He's not here," Leo said, rustling through one of the desk's draws.

"Umm, maybe you shouldn't do that," Harry said.

"Don't worry, nothing can surprise me, I've been through everyone's draws on the Argo III. And believe me, there are some dodgy things..."

He stopped rustling and came out with a piece of paper. "What's this?"

Harry's throat constricted. It was a newspaper clipping. There was a large moving picture, a smaller one in the corner and the headline read 'Death Eater Sentenced to Azkaban for Life Imprisonment by Hero Boy-Who-Lived.'

Leo frowned. "That small picture, that's you isn't it? And that big one looks like Draco..."

Harry shook his head. "No...no that's his father, Lucius Malfoy."

"What's Azkaban?"

"The wizard prison."

"It says here that you testified against him in court and that was the tipping point that put him in prison. For life. Something about only just avoiding being kissed for heinous crimes... It goes on about your heroic deeds for two paragraphs... You dated a lot of girls."

"Most of it is a lie," he said.

"What about the bit on Draco's father?"

Harry turned away and inspected a shelf covered in knick-knacks.

"Sorry about Ginny."

Harry gritted his teeth and turned away even further. Leo took the hint and replaced the clipping, continuing to go through the draw until he came across something interesting. He lifted it out and breathed loudly.

"Harry, you might want to see this."

It was a digital clock, silver and sleek. On top were the elegantly engraved words: 'Draco Malfoy is presently', but instead of showing the time on the screen, in luminous orange chunky letters that scrolled across it read: 'IN DANGER - HECATE'S CURSE!'

—

A/N: Whoa that was a fun chapter to write! I feel so evil...

I've decided on a pairing, but for the sake of dramatic tension I will not reveal it.

Thanks to those who have reviewed, as well as two Guest reviewers who have pointed out the major plot flaws especially in the first chapter (I didn't realise until I posted it that Snape was actually killed by Nagini, then I was too lazy to change it), so I have plans to MAJORLY revamp the story and fix all the plot holes. Probably only once I finish though.

Also, I made an error in the last chapter: I wrote that Draco's tattoo was an owl, when he's actually a son of Nemesis so it should be a set of scales. My bad, all fixed (hopefully), tell me if it's still wrong.

Many Thanks,

Yours in Demigodishness,

— Star, xoxo