Chapter Eighteen

The worst part was the hallucinations, dizziness and nausea...probably concussion when he thought about it.

Actually, scratch that, the worst part was knowing exactly where he was and that no-one would find him, perhaps because this place was warded, but more likely because they wouldn't want to.

The concussion was a close second though.

Through the fog he heard voices. There was also the dog animal thing again, and he had just about the sense of mind to realise that the voices were coming from it. Although, now he looked again, did those dogs have...hooves? And red fur with black lips...

Draco decided he would call it Snape. Because it was a mixture of horse and wolf. He wasn't quite sure why he thought that was funny though...

"I wish you a merry Christmas uncle," it said happily in a boy's voice, which changed to a snarling, gravely one on the next. "I despise Christmas."

"Oh really?" Draco asked deliriously. "I can't see the point of it myself..."

The wolf-horse that Draco had named Snape changed to Lucius Malfoy's voice. "Of course you can't, you can never see anything. You could never impress me, call yourself a Malfoy, you're nothing but a mudblood desperate for attention."

And Draco couldn't quite figure out why that hurt so much.

His vision was darkening, and he was slipping in and out on consciousness.

—

"Hey, Draco?"

"Yeah."

"Good luck. I'm gonna miss you."

Draco's face remained stony as he packed his bags. Neville hopped down from his bunk and went over.

"It's a shame you didn't get your stripe..."

"It's a shame that Camp Jupiter doesn't protect its augurs more, or ours wouldn't be in a coma for another week," he said imperiously with a sniff.

Neville regarded him dubiously. "Draco! She was seriously injured from that fire, you can't blame her for that!" He sighed. "Just because you're sore about not getting your stripe doesn't mean you have to take it out on everyone else..."

Draco continued folding shirts into his magically expanded suitcase. "I'm not mad at her."

"Oh really? Then why have you been so morose for the last month?"

Draco put down the shirt he was holding and tuned to the other boy. "Neville. You're a fool if you think that I'm ever coming back, okay? It doesn't take a stretch of the imagination to figure out why I'm going away, and it takes even less to clock why I'll never come back."

Neville shrugged. "Hey, anything's better than Umbridge."

He didn't answer.

"Come on, Draco, talk to me."

Draco finished folding up shirts and moved on to his trousers.

"Why won't you answer?"

"Everyone knows, now, don't they? About He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named? That Potter was always telling the truth?"

Neville's eyebrows raised. "I should think so, yeah."

"Then you know there's a war brewing."

Neville nodded.

There was a silence with only the rustling of clothes folding.

"Draco? Do you want to say something?"

He paused. "Listen, Neville. You're friends with Potter. You know that there are two sides in this war...and I can't promise we'll be on the same one. At this point I can't promise you anything. This time next year all of Hogwarts will despise me, and if this is my last opportunity, I just wanted to take this chance to say, I really enjoyed having a friend."

"Draco-"

Draco checked his watch, picked up a small figurine of a snake and braced himself, turning back to Neville. "Don't talk to me again. And if we meet after today, I will treat you like any other muggle, mudblood or blood traitor that crosses my path."

Neville blinked at the sudden change in tone.

"And," Draco continued, clicking his suitcase shut, "if it becomes necessary, I will kill you."

Neville looked shocked and horrified as the uncomfortable, dizzying sensation of portkeying took hold, and Draco was transported away.

—

"Feed him, I want him alive!"

"You do not order me around, powerlessss witch."

"I am not powerless yet, do not think to mock me, snake."

"My apologiessss, would you prefer the term vampire, Madame Fae? Weak without your masssster?"

"I have more power than you, Sess!"

The dracaena all around surged forward, brandishing spears and teeth at the woman who had spoken. Said woman, tall and thin with straight black hair and slanted, shining eyes was ignoring the angry queen and was instead focusing on the tied up demigod.

"We only need to keep him alive," Sess said. "He doesn't need to be in good health, he's only a hosssstage. Or do you have other plansss, Fae?"

"Always," Fae answered with a sickly smile. She took hold of Draco's limp wrist and held it up for Sess to see.

"What?" Sess asked. "Magic was never my ssstrong ssssuit."

"Wake up," Fae ordered the unconscious demigod. With a jerk, he woke up.

"What-... what?"

Fae surged forwards and pressed something to his lips, pressing it inside and holding a cold hand against his mouth as he thrashed against the rope tethering him to a tree. "Swallow," she ordered.

Draco obeyed with no hesitation and coughed as it burned his throat. He felt immediately better, the fog and ringing in his ears receding.

"Who are you, witch?" He gasped. "And what the hell's that wolf?"

Fae looked delighted. "I am Fae, only a former servant of Hecate. I'm sure she'll notice I'm gone in, I don't know, two decades, maybe three. But that's the way gods are, isn't it. You've never even met your mother."

The wolf prowled around Fae's legs. "Could never catch the attention of your mother," it said in Hazel's voice. "But then again, you couldn't even impress you mortal father, so who's surprised?"

Draco's voice was caught in his throat. "What is that?" he forced out. "How can it mimic voices?"

"You don't need to know," it whispered in Dumbledore's voice. "You are only a puppet. All puppets have to do is obey. Pity you couldn't even do that."

Draco felt like he was drowning, slowly falling under a cascade of voices telling him he was worthless, expendable, disappointing, traitorous, cowardly. Something to be used and then tossed away. Pushed to be better, to study harder, learn more spells, only to be beaten down, mocked and insulted, yet still expected to do everything he was told.

"Get away from me!" He hissed, eyes burning. "I refuse to do anything you say, you ugly monster. You're nothing but a filthy, disgusting traitor who hasn't been caught yet. And when you are, I swear I will have a front row seat to watch you burn."

He glared maniacally and spat in her face, even though a little voice in his head reminded him of all the times those exact words had been aimed at him.

Fae's eyes were burning. No, literally burning. As in, they were on fire.

"You, demigod," she whispered calmly, despite her blazing eyes. With an elegant swipe she slashed needle-sharp talons along Draco's face, watching as blood started to pour out of the five cuts. With her other hand she grabbed him by the throat and started to squeeze, cutting off his pained screams.

"Fool!" She said. "You have no choice but to obey me. You're more of a puppet now then you've ever been. I thought you would join us when I first saw you, clever as I thought you were, but now I realise what an ignorant child you are."

He fell unconscious soon after.

—

"Oh gods. We gotta find Hazel," Leo said. "This is bad. Bad with a capital 'B'."

Harry cocked his head. "Okay, what is Hecate's Curse? I've heard of it..."

Leo turned and grabbed him by the shoulders, eyes wide, and started skating him. "Where? Where did you hear that?"

"Draco mentioned it yesterday, why?"

Leo put his chin in his hand and shuffled around. "Oh gods... We need to get to Hazel."

He turned with urgency and raced out of the small bedroom, down the narrow staircase, through the corridor of the boys' bedrooms and into the Slytherin Common Room. He got about as far as three steps down the dungeon corridor before he acknowledged Harry was behind him.

"Harry... Where's the Great Hall again?"

—

Draco could feel the stares. They seemed to be everywhere he went. The ghosts were the worst. Everywhere he went they would either deliberately move out of his way and go around or just glide straight through him as if he weren't there, ice cold.

He wasn't sure which one he like better, but the messages were clear.

But other than that, and the Hecate kids and followers, life continued as normal. He had a fair number of friends - though none he'd seen for the last couple of years - and they greeted him back jovially, though it was difficult explaining why he was still on probatio without telling them about the wizarding world.

And there was the crux of the problem.

There were explicit orders from both Olympus and the Ministry of Magic that in the case of a magical demigod they could reveal nothing about one world to the other, with the exception of certain important people like Reyna, Chiron and the oracles/augurs.

Well, it would be hard keeping it a secret from them anyway.

And it went without question that all the demigods asked nothing of the followers of Hecate (mostly because they were terrified of them) and when they were angry at someone or something then the whole camp was angry right alongside them.

Which was a bad thing for Draco.

The stares and the whispers just wouldn't leave him alone. Rumour was spreading fast and in many different versions. Most agreed that he was someone to be avoided due to being evil, murderous, abusive of his powers etc., though there were a few that suggested ridiculous things like he was the lover of the devil he had summoned.

Needless to say a lot of the campers were mildly ill-informed.

But it was still harrowing to know that this was the better option. That back in England in the Wizarding World he would've been further and publicly ostracised by the press and...well...everyone.

Not that it was that much better in camp. At least if he was in England he could hole himself up in the thoroughly cleaned out and guarded Malfoy Manor, whereas here he had no choice but to be dragged out of the Sixth Cohort cabin to participate in the activities.

Gods, he wished he'd chosen the right side.

—

"It's a curse."

"I think we got that."

Hazel glared at Harry. "Do you want me to find him?

Harry discontentedly looked away. He was in the Great Hall with the demigods and Hunters. Will had finished his healing, and they were all just settling in to wait and see what happened. There was nothing more they could do, and a hush had fallen over them as they waited, with only Hazel's strong voice being heard as she explained what was happening.

"It isn't especially complicated to cast, but it needs the permission of both parties, which means it isn't technically a curse, but from an outsiders point of view it. Can be seen as a curse because in the past people have been tricked into accepting it."

"What does it actually do?" Jason asked.

"Okay, so the Dark Mark was placed by Voldemort, but it isn't just a tattoo. It is, in effect, a tether that ties the wearer's soul to the master, letting the master have control over the wearer's magic and, basically, soul. Voldemort had a lot of followers, which was why he was so powerful. That's why anyone with the mark can summon Voldemort, why any spell he casts on people with the curse is much more potent than normal, and why it never fades."

Harry fidgeted restlessly. "Great, can you get to the point?"

"When Voldemort died the tether was only tied at one end, the tattoo a physical manifestation of that bond. It was flapping restlessly without a master. The magic that had been flowing into Voldemort was now leaking out, making Draco and the other Death Eaters weaker than normal. Over the summer, he begged our...patron, to get rid of the tattoo because it was a constant reminder of his mistakes. So, she transferred the curse to a new master."

"Was this 'patron', called Hecate?"

Behind Harry the demigods shifted uncomfortably. Percy sent a silent question to Annabeth, whether or not they could tell Harry about the gods. She replied with a stony 'no'.

"Yeah."

Harry hummed discontentedly. "So Draco was controlled by Hecate?"

"Not just Hecate. See, she is über powerful, and still angry that he would use his gift against other magic bearers, and a bit worried he would do it again, so, just in case, she split the end so it linked to any magic-user with the right knowledge."

"The right knowledge?"

"Knowledge of our patron. It's a secret. It's partly punishment, but also partly used in case he reverts back to his previous ways."

Harry's face hardened. "You think he's actually gone rogue? Is working against us? We were warned so that we could leach his magic?"

"No!" Hazel said, "you didn't hear the end. To more easily subdue him if he did revert to his old ways, she amplified the power of the tether so that any follower with the right knowledge could outright control him with just words."

Harry started pacing. "So he's been kidnapped."

"Harry..." Frank went to put a hand on Harry's shoulder, but Harry paced off again.

"But he only wanted to get rid of the mark, why bother with this curse?"

"Like I said, punishment," Hazel replied. "But a neat side-effect is that the mark changes to reflect the master. That's why at the moment it is a snake crossed by torches rather than a skull. It doesn't seem like much, but it's the first step to being forgiven."

"Why would he want to be forgiven?"

"Hecate is...basically a god, in our society. The loose end of the tether is slowly healing. She can remove the tattoo, and the curse, but only she, and only when she's forgiven him. If it goes, it's a sign he can have a fresh start."

Harry breathed. "So he's being controlled."

"Most likely there's someone with the right knowledge on their side. That's why he put up no resistance."

"He's being controlled," Harry said again, sitting down on a bench. "Even if he wanted to fight them, he can't. We've got to rescue him. I'll get Hermione and Ron, we can help."

Hazel exchanged looks with the other demigods.

Annabeth sighed with her eyes. 'Fine', she replied wearily to their pleading gazes.

"Harry," Hazel said. "There's something you should know about the things we're fighting. It relates to my patron, Hecate, and to where Draco and Neville went over summer vacation. I'm sure you researched the Greek gods..."

—

A/N: So, for a while I lost sight of where this story was going. I now know, and at this point I'm just going to finish it, and then go back and revise it - else I'll repost the story then delete the old one. I'm sorry for being rubbish at updating, but hopefully now I can be more regular (slightly).