Hermione woke up with a pounding headache. She was dizzy and disoriented. Everything was distorted and out of focus, as if she was submerged in water.

She was in a very large room, her brain vaguely told her. There were large columns of black marble. She was lying on her side on a soft settee, covered in red velour. Glancing down, she could see the frame and legs were made out of what seemed to be solid gold. And precious stones. Very expensive settee, then. From this, she deducted she must have been in some sort of palace or manor.

In front of her stood Nico, with his back turned. He was standing in front of a small podium, that housed two large chairs, no thrones. Palace then. But which palace? One of the thrones was made of gold and the other was made of… bones?

The golden chair was empty but on the other, sat a man, unlike any man, Hermione had ever seen. She had thought Nico was pale, but he looked tanned in front of compared to this man. He was wearing black robes, not unlike some wizards, but the fabric was fascinating, in a morbid way. It was as if tormented souls were woven into the very threads, and sometimes their faces would show, depicting their agony. His hair was black, and on it sat a golden crown. The king of the palace, obviously, but where was the palace?

Nico stood, gesturing wildly, often in her direction, obviously trying to explain something. She couldn't hear it though. Her ears were popping wildly, as if she had just been in one of the crazy carts, on a trip to the lowest vaults at Gringotts.

The man looked from her, to Nico and back, with a strange expression of worry mixed with a certain amount of frustration.

Hermione felt weak, as if her body was made of lead. She tried to sit up, but failed to even move her hand. She felt her eyes closing again, without her permission.

…

When she woke up again, she was lying on a bed, with silk sheets. She was wearing a white nightgown in a silken fabric, that was impossibly soft. She really hoped it had been changed with magic, otherwise things might have been awkward. She felt better now, better than she had in a long time, in fact. She tried to sit up, and it was only then, she realized the mattress was dipping. Nico was sitting on a chair, his head resting on his arm on her mattress. He was fast asleep, his hair tousled, and his mouth slightly open.

Hermione thought he was beautiful. She hadn't actually noticed how tense he had been, until now, when she saw him truly relaxed. The difference was staggering. She could feel, rather than see him, waking up. It was as if the very energy that was swirling in him, started stirring and his body stiffened into a ball of anxiety again. When he opened his eyes, and saw her staring at him, they both blushed.

"I am so – so sorry." He said, heavy guilt portrayed in all his features.

"What happened?" She said, hoarsely, as if she hadn't used her voice for weeks, which made her very nervous."

"I really didn't mean to. I didn't know, you have to believe me" He implored.

"Alright" She found herself saying, confused, by why she actually felt like she could trust him. After all, he had basically kidnapped her, and who knows, what he did to her, to make her black out.

Nico looked equally bewildered in her trust. Apparently, that came in short supply.

"I didn't mean it" He whispered. Tears shining in his eyes. "I almost killed you."

Hermione really questioned her own sanity, when she found, that she still trusted him.

"I didn't know, I could do something like that, but when I touched you, I started draining your power, your life force. I couldn't let go. You were so close, I could feel you fading away" He said, tears of guilt now streaming down his face.

Hermione didn't know, what to make of that, but in the end, her famous curiosity reared its head.

"But how did you do it? Was it some sort of curse?"

He snorted softly, looking down. "Oh, I'm cursed alright." He muttered so quietly, she almost couldn't hear it.

"Then how did you heal me? Was it a healing spell, or a potion or something else?"

"I gave you nectar and ambrosia. But don't worry, it didn't come from here." She didn't know what to make of the 'didn't come from here', but it lead her to another question.

"Where exactly is here? And if I can't get that nectar and ambrosia here, then where can I find it? I've never heard about it, even in the wizarding world. I feel amazing, it could revolutionize the healing system" She ranted excitedly.

He suddenly looked very tired.

"First of all, it can't revolutionize your system. It only works on some very… specific people. It will kill everyone else ingesting it."

She looked a little crestfallen.

"But then how did you know it wouldn't kill me. What makes me so special?"

"Gods, I wish my dad was here for this" He muttered under his breath. "It works for people, who have a parent who is a god. Greek god. In your case, your dad."

"No he's not." She snorted. "My dad is a dentist. Sure he's a good one, but I doubt anyone has ever called him a god. Dentists usually don't get that kind of praise."

"Um…" He really hadn't been prepared for that kind of direct disbelief. "Then, maybe your mother had an affair?"

"Are you insane?" She hissed. Looking around, as if expecting one of her parents to jump out at the accusation.

"My mother was raised in a very strict Christian household. She could never do that! In fact, she almost kicked me out, when she found out I was a witch!"

Now Nico looked really perplexed.

"Well, fact is, that your father is Poseidon. I could feel it, my dad could feel it. Haven't you ever wondered, how the water is following you?"

She sat back, running through everything she knew about Poseidon through her head.

She looked up, and saw him studying her, waiting for her to make some sort of connection.

Then it clicked.

"What about earthquakes?"

Nico's eyes widened. He hadn't expected that. He had never seen Percy doing anything like that.

"Sometimes, when I'm angry or scared, the earth shakes. We always just thought it was accidental magic" She looked at him, with a faraway expression, as if she was reliving her past experiences.

"Poseidon IS your father."

"But that still doesn't make any sense! I'm absolutely certain, that my mother would never cheat on my father, and they were married for ten years before having me!"

"Wait a minute. Ten years is a long time to wait, having a baby."

"What are you saying?"

"Could it be possible that they aren't your biological parents?" He asked carefully.

Hermione's world broke a little, but not a lot. When it came down to it, she already knew. Her parents both had blue eyes. Hers were brown. She was a genetical impossibility.

"I suppose. Is that why I have magic? Because I'm supposedly the daughter of some god?"

"No," He said, smiling, happy for the change of subject. "That's something completely different. What do you know of the beginning of the magical community?"

"The beginning? Well, there aren't so many facts. Just myths, really, but I don't tend to put much stock in them."

"You're a witch, you can create earthquakes and manipulate water, because you're the daughter of Poseidon. Your very existence is a myth. Who are you to judge?" He asked, with a teasing grin.

She huffed, "Well, if you must know, there are several theories and… myths."

"One theory is, that access to magic is basically a genetic mutation, which would explain muggleborns. It hasn't been scientifically proven, because the ministry won't research anything, based on muggle scientific theories, because they're old farts, who only care for their precious pure blood and staying in their seats of power." She ranted.

He sat, listening intently throughout her speech.

"I don't know much about genetics," He honestly said "But it is probable, that it might be passed down through generations. The magical community was founded, when Hecate blessed a group of people with magic. It might be possible, that she is still blessing some people from time to time. From what I could tell about your community, new blood is not a bad thing."

"Damn right it isn't!" She emphasized.

Nico lifted an eyebrow at her.

"Just don't tell Hecate that there are theories, that her blessed are mutants. She's easily offended." He deadpanned.

She chuckled.

"Wait, if I'm the daughter of Poseidon, who are you the son of? And you still haven't answered, where we are."

He stiffened visibly and looked down.

He didn't speak for a long time, and when Hermione was about to ask again, he answered hesitantly.

"I'm the son of Hades." He sighed. "I couldn't let go, and I accidentally took you to the Underworld with me."

He looked so defeated, like he was waiting for some kind of violent rejection or huge fallout.

"Huh." Hermione said.

She looked around the room, taking note of all the details. The intricate carvings of the four-poster bed and the vanity in the corner, and the chair in front of it, with its dark red upholstery. Everything was done in red and dark brown wood with gold details. At the vanity was a gold framed ruby encrusted mirror.

"I never expected it to be quite so beautiful."

Whatever reaction he expected, this clearly wasn't it. He looked at her, as if she were an alien, or as if he wasn't quite sure she even existed.

"Excuse me?" He said.

"Well, it's beautiful."

"You do know, this is the Underworld we're talking about, right? You're not scared at all?"

"Scared? No. As my headmaster once said 'To the well-organized mind, Death is but the next great adventure' If anything, I'm insanely curious. I would love a tour! Can we do that?" She asked excitedly.

Now Nico just looked at her as if she was insane.

There was a small knock, and in the door frame stood none other, than Hades himself, an amused smile playing on his lips.

"I'm sure that can be arranged," He said "Wouldn't you say, Nico?"

Now Nico looked as if both of them had gone crazy.