Sorry for being such a late updater, but I had homework and other fanfics to read and all of that shiz. I also specifically said on my profile that I was a slow updater.

Anyways, I also want to state my reasoning for why Hermione is a daughter of Hermes. Her name literally means Greek traveler. And Hermes is the God of travelers. Anyways, don't let me keep you. Enjoy! (P.S. Reviews make me happy and want to update more.)

~Miyako

Chapter 2

Are you kidnapping me?

Draco was having a relatively normal summer evening. Then he heard the lock click. His hand flew to his nightstand, where his wand lay under the lamplight. It was near impossible to unlock any locks in Malfoy Manor. Whoever managed to open his bedroom door must be a powerful witch or wizard.

"This better not be Aunt Bella again," Draco grumbled, remembering the last time his crazy aunt had barged into his room. (He been changing. That had not been a pleasant experience.)

"Why, you'd think that the oh-so-amazing Draco Malfoy would be able to tell the difference between a psychotic, full-grown witch in black robes and an 11 year old muggleborn in a cat T-shirt," was the sarcastic reply he received.

"Hermione?" Draco's eyes widened. "Where are you?"

"I'm right here," she sighed.

Draco jumped when he realized that the brunette was sitting at the foot of his bed.

"You'd think you'd be more observant," Hermione rolled her eyes, blowing a stray curl out of her face. "I mean, at school, you were going on about being the oh-so-great Draco Malfoy."

"You know why," Draco muttered.

"I think you enjoyed the bit on the train," Hermione retorted, glaring at her hair and blowing at it once again. "I, for one, thought that it was highly exaggerated."

"Yet only you noticed," Draco replied. "How did you get through the door?"

"My dad is amazing with doors and locks," Hermione replied.

"But the door was protected by practically millions of high-security spells!" Draco exclaimed. "Let alone the manor itself."

"Really?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. "I've met harder locks. Anyways, you need to come with me. This is nothing personal, just business."

"Are you kidnapping me?" Draco asked.

"That's sort of a last resort, but..." Hermione paused. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am kidnapping you."

"I can't believe you tied me up," Draco complained, struggling against the ropes tied around his wrists and binding his arms to his sides.

"Quit whining," Hermione rolled her eyes. "I only tied you up for my own personal amusement, anyways. Chiron will probably get me to remove them anyway."

"Chiron?" Draco inquired, completely perplexed. "As in from the Greek Myths?"

Hermione looked up to the nighttime sky nervously.

"That's weird," she muttered. "He didn't get mad. And if he didn't get mad, then..."

Hermione gave a loud and exaggerated groan when she realized just whose son he might possibly be. A potential prophecy kid. Which was strange, because you would've thought that the Big Three would stop with the children after Thalia's accident.

"I'm starting to think you're crazy," Draco stated blandly.

"I'm not crazy," Hermione retorted. "My reality is just different than yours. Legitimately."

"Legitimately?" Draco raised his eyebrows.

"The word 'literally' is so overused," Hermione waved it off. "It doesn't matter. Oh look, we're here! Hi, Chiron!" Hermione waved, grinning at a man in a seat with wheels attached to it.

"What is that thing called?" Draco asked.

"A wheelchair, you pansycake," Hermione said.

"Pansycake?" Draco questioned.

"It's a book reference you won't understand," Hermione said, waving her hand carelessly.

"Hello, Arizona," the old man in the tweed jacket smiled kindly at the girl. "Why is the boy tied up, my dear? I thought I told you that kidnapping him would be a last resort."

"I thought it would be fun," Hermione shrugged, smiling a bit like a ditz. "Besides, it's not like I gagged him or knocked him out or something. Even though it is entirely in my ability to do so. I'd say this is the royal treatment."

"Untie him, child," the man-Chiron-sighed.

Hermione groaned melodramatically, tossing her head back and her arms out as she spun around to untie the blond boy, smirk tugging at her lips.

"Guess what, Drakey?" Hermione chuckled as she swiftly undid her complicated knots.

"Don't call me that," Draco grumbled.

Hermione giggled lightly under her breath.

"Drakey, that's what I'm calling you now," Hermione declared. "Anyways, guess what? You're not a pureblood."

"I'm not?" Draco raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

"Nope," Hermione shook her head. "You're like me: a half-blood."

"I thought you were a muggleborn," Draco said. He sighed in relief when the burning and fraying ropes fell to the ground, and shook his arms around happily.

"I am," Hermione said shortly, beginning to get annoyed with Draco's remarks about nearly everything she said. "I mean half-blood in another sense. As in..." She paused, trying to think of a good explanation.

"You know Heracles?" Hermione asked.

"Hercules, isn't it?" Draco responded.

"That's his Roman name. In Greek-er-stories his name is Heracles, which means glory of Hera. You know, Zeus' wife." Hermione said.

Draco nodded, not seeing how this was relevant.

"Anyways, Heracles was a demigod," Hermione continued. "His father was Zeus, the almighty king of the gods." Thunder sounded, as though it agreed. Chiron smiled, amused.

"And his mother was a mortal," Hermione said. "Demigods are also known as half-bloods these days."

Draco's eyes widened. "So does that mean that all half-bloods-?"

"No," Hermione cut him off. "The wizard half-bloods are exactly that: wizards. You, Draco, are a rare speciman, because you're both a wizard half-blood, and a demigod."

"Don't talk about me like I'm so,e sort of creature, please," Draco scrunched up his nose at the word 'speciman'.

"Fine," Hermione said. "But I also think that your father isn't Lucius."

"What?" Draco looked taken aback. "But we're practically a spitting image of each other!"

"My father is Hermes, god of messengers and thieves. Thieves have a negative connotation with lying and deception." Hermione and Draco stared at each other for a moment before she leaned in and pressed her lips against his cheek.

"Um, what?" Draco stuttered, blushing as profusely as Hermione.

"Sorry," Hermione ducked her down in embarrassment. "Anyways, about the whole deception thing. Your dad probably was shocked by your mom's infidelity, and put a glamour on you to make you look like him."

Hermione muttered a chant under her breath, and watched in awe as Draco's silver eyes transitioned into a stormy, sky blue and his white-blond hair darkened into a sandy blond.

"I knew it!" Hermione exclaimed. She whipped around to face Chiron. "See? I knew it!"

"Knew what?" Draco crossed his arms.

"Oh, dear," Chiron said. "This complicates things. You see, I have a very powerful half-blood, presumably a son of Poseidon. He's very loyal, so he'll most likely side with us. He needs to be the prophecy child. Luckily, he is a year older than you two. But still, we must keep Draco's lineage a secret from the majority of camp."

"What prophecy?" Draco asked.

"You shall find out once we get to Camp Half-Blood," Chiron said.

"What's that?" Draco inquired.

"You'll find out," Hermione smiled.

Chiron stood up, much to Draco's surprise, and revealed his tall, regal, white horse body.

"You're a centaur!" Draco exclaimed. "But they hate anyone who isn't, well, one of them!"

"Chiron's different," Hermione's lips stretched into grin. "He literally lives to teach. Now get on his back, so we can get to Camp Half-Blood!"

"Um," Draco hummed, unsure.

"Just get on, you bumbling buffoon!" Hermione ordered, shoving him onto Chiron's back and ultimately changing his life forever.