Harry stepped forward and felt the strange force of the magical boundary as he passed through it. On the other side stood a girl his age, her golden-brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, her icy blue eyes framed by high cheekbones. She wore a black knee-length skirt and a crisp white shirt.

"Potter?" she asked.

"Greengrass?" asked Harry.

Her eyes changed from icy blue to a bright yellow as she stared at Harry. Harry was observing her reaction. This was the first time they had ever seen each other up close, and yet it felt as if they were being pulled together by an invisible tether. It was magic, that much was clear—and it was only getting stronger.

Daphne's eyes hardened from molten gold to icy blue as she fondly eyed Potter. "Why are you here?" she demanded, her voice curt and unforgiving. Her gaze shifted to the horizon that had been obscured by the dense forest. "The better question is how were you able to cross the border."

Harry's voice shook as he spoke. He nervously shifted his weight from foot to foot, and his gaze flitted around the camp, avoiding the woman who had come to greet him. "I was led here by someone claiming to be my mother," he said. "And she brought me here."

Daphne squinted at him, trying to read his expression. "Do you know her name? And where are you?"

Harry nodded slowly. "I do know her name, but I've been instructed to not tell anyone until she officially claims me," he said with a hint of frustration in his voice. "Something about smoothing things over with the other gods." He paused for a moment before continuing, "As for your second question, I'm pretty sure I'm at Camp Half-Blood. Am I right?" His face looked hopeful as if the answer was important to him.

Daphne met Harry's gaze and was filled with an inexplicable feeling of calm. She had never felt safe enough to let her guard down around anyone, but something about the silver-eyed boy made her feel like she could trust him. A moment stretched out between them as Daphne collected her thoughts, searching for an explanation for what she was feeling. She had noticed a connection to Harry since being sorted into Slytherin back in September, but until now she hadn't realized he'd been feeling the same way. A quick scan of the library only resulted in more questions than answers; there was no amount of research that could tell her what it was, but suddenly she desperately wanted to know. Breaking the silence, Daphne spoke with a newfound confidence.

"Follow me Potter, I will take you to Chiron," she said

Harry nodded and followed her on a path that led directly to a blue four-story farmhouse that had a white deck around it. The farmhouse was grander than anything Harry had seen before, with Greek columns supporting the structure and vines creeping up its sides. The sounds of laughter and conversation floated towards them from an open window. But it wasn't the architecture that caught Harry's attention—it was the people. Demigods of various ages ran around the grounds, practicing archery, sword fighting, or simply sitting in groups and chatting animatedly.

"You live here?" Harry asked a hint of awe in his voice.

Daphne chuckled. "Not exactly. This is the main building where camp activities are coordinated. My cabin is elsewhere. Each of us is assigned one based on our godly parent."

Harry looked around, trying to take it all in. "And you're all… demigods?"

She nodded. "Children of gods and mortals. This is our safe haven, a place where we can train and be ourselves without the threat of monsters."

As they approached the entrance, the door swung open to reveal an older man, or rather a centaur, with a wise face and a kind expression. His human torso was clad in a purple tunic, and his equine half was a glossy chestnut brown.

"Ah, Daphne," the centaur greeted with a nod. "I see you've brought a new face. Harry Potter, isn't it?"

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "You know me?"

The centaur smiled gently. "I've heard stories. Chiron, at your service. Director of Camp Half-Blood." He extended a hand.

Taking it hesitantly, Harry shook it. "It's an honour to meet you. But how did you know my name?"

Chiron's eyes twinkled. "A little bird told me, or should I say, a certain god. But we can discuss that later. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood, Harry."

Back in Olympus, Artemis glided across the marble floor to the central hearth where Hestia, the god of home and family sat. The girl was no more than 8 years old with wild brown hair cascading from beneath a knitted scarf. Her fire-red eyes were filled with flames so warm and inviting it seemed as if she were made of them. As Artemis joined her on the ground, Hestia greeted her with an understanding gaze.

"Aunt Hestia," said Artemis as she sat down next to the girl.

"Greetings, Artemis," replied Hestia, "I take it this is about your son."

Artemis stood in shock as Hestia spoke. Her eyes darted between the goddess of the hearth and her newfound son. "Yes it is Hestia," she said slowly, "but how did you know?"

Hestia looked back at Artemis with a knowing glance. "I have been watching him for years now. You were so desperate to find him on your own, but you never asked for my help. If you had, I would have shown you how he is living and where he is."

Artemis sighed and hung her head. "I see. I should have known." She straightened up and met Hestia's gaze again. "I could use your help… I am afraid that if I formally claim my son he will be killed by the other gods in a vote that doesn't go in my favour."

Hestia smiled confidently. "But it will go in your favour. Apollo will vote to keep the boy alive simply because it's your child, Hermes always votes with Apollo, Hera will vote to keep the child alive because it was born through a marital union, and Demeter will vote to keep him alive because of his connection to her daughter, Poseidon will vote to keep him alive because he is a child, Athena you may need to sway… and Hephaestus will either not vote or vote with Aphrodite who would want to keep him alive due to the connection he has with the daughter of Demeter."

Artemis's gaze sharpened as she turned to her Aunt Hestia. "He has a connection with a daughter of Demeter?"

Hestia nodded, and a slight frown line creased her forehead. "He does, but I'm not sure what it is. Though, there are two things you could do that will ensure he is not killed."

Artemis raised an inquisitive brow. "And that is?"

"One," replied Hestia, ticking the point off on her fingers. "You could check with Apollo to see if he is the child of the forgotten prophecy. If he is, and I suspect he is, he will be protected by prophecy. The other step you can take is to make him your Heir to one or several of your domains. In doing so, you'll make sure that he is protected by the Ancient Laws as an heir to your domains."

Artemis stood and gave her aunt a grateful smile. "Thanks, Aunt Hestia."

Hestia winked in response.

"You're welcome. Remember, The Hearth is always open to those who need it." With this reminder, she opened the door and stepped out.

In the Big house Daphne, Harry, and Chiron sat around the ping-pong table. Soon a man with a chubby face, a red nose and curly hair so black it looked purple, strode into the room. He wore a bright Hawaiian shirt dotted with tiger stripes and purple running shoes, and his eyes were every bit as vibrant as his outfit. He took a seat beside Chiron who adjusted his spectacles and produced a pen.

"Name?" he asked Harry, gesturing to the sheet of paper in front of him.

"Harry James Potter," said Harry, with just a hint of hesitation.

"Date of birth?" continued Chiron.

"July 31st, 1980," answered Harry.

Chiron raised an eyebrow and shifted his gaze, prompting Daphne to introduce Mr. D, the camp director.

Finally, Chiron posed one last question: "Have you been formally claimed by a God or Goddess?"

"Yes," answered Harry, choosing his words carefully. "But I was told not to say anything until she formally claims me. She mentioned something about smoothing things over with the other gods."

Daphne's brow furrowed with concern. "That tells me we need to be prepared for your claiming," she said.

Chiron motioned towards Harry Potter. "Anyways moving on, welcome Harry Potter to Camp Half-Blood. Daphne, can you give our guest the tour of the camp?"

Daphne's voice trembled as she addressed Chiron. Her eyes darted nervously between the three of them, her fingers twisting around each other. "Actually Chiron," she began, "I was hoping if we could talk to you now that Potter is here."

Chiron remained silent for a few moments before nodding somberly. "You can."

"Since September when I was sorted into Slytherin," she continued, her gaze lingering on Potter, "I felt a connection with him. At first, it was small but the more classes I had with him the stronger it got. By June I found myself aware of his presence even when he wasn't around me and when we finally talked closely for the first time- my trust in him and his words was solidified. I want to know if you know what this connection is?"

Daphne looked up expectantly as Chiron lifted a gnarled finger and tapped at his chin thoughtfully. "I can't tell you for sure," he said slowly. "Two things come to mind since you are both from relatively old houses in Hecate's world: It could be an old Marriage contract between the two of you that has now gone into effect or a Soul Union. Daphne, your father will know for sure."

Daphne's eyes lit up with excitement, and she clasped her hands together in anticipation.

"Can I take Potter here to my Manor to meet with my father?" she asked Chiron.

The centaur nodded, "You may, but you must be back before curfew. You can use the floo upstairs."

"Thank you," Daphne said with a wide grin as she grabbed Potter's hand and pulled him towards the staircase, "Follow me, Potter!" She scampered up the steps two at a time and motioned for him to come after her.

Daphne led Harry up a winding staircase to the chimney. "Potter, have you ever travelled by Floo before?" asked Daphne.

Harry smiled. "You know you could call me Harry," he said.

She nodded and continued, "Grab a bit of powder then throw it on the ground and say where you want to go, in this case, you will say Greengrass Manor. Oh, and in the wizarding world, it is considered rude to call someone by their first name unless they give you permission."

Daphne grabbed a handful of emerald green Floo Powder and tossed it into the fireplace. She stepped into the flames and shouted, "Greengrass Manor!" In a swirl of green fire, she was gone.

Harry followed her instructions and scooped up some powder before throwing it into the hearth. He declared, "Greengrass Manor," and was engulfed in a cloud of green sparks that carried him away.

Harry tumbled out of the floo and slammed into Daphne, sending them both sprawling across the floor. Her eyes flashed molten copper and her hair turned red as if it was ignited in a cascade of red flames. "Get off me, Potter!" she spat. A tinkling laugh echoed from the corner of the room.

Harry's shock of black hair suddenly morphed to a startling shade of silver-grey as he scrambled upright. Daphne rose to her feet slowly, stalking up to him and delivering a sharp slap to the back of his head.

"Daphne dear!" chided the woman's voice again, its melodic tones betraying amusement rather than anger. "Please be respectful to our guests!"

"Yes Mother," Daphne mumbled before turning away.

Harry turned his gaze to the left and caught a glimpse of a tall woman with dark brown hair cascading down her back. She donned her burgundy robes with pride, displaying the emblem of House Greengrass over her left breast. The crest was embroidered in gold thread that glinted in the light. Every inch of her apparel was immaculate, with not even a single stitch out of place.

"Hello, Ms. Greengrass," said Harry as he stepped forward. Daphne's eyes widened and her eyebrows lifted in surprise at his greeting. Her hair began to glow a faint gold and her eyes slowly changed to a bright emerald green. Ms. Greengrass arched an eyebrow and glanced at Harry with amusement. "Scion Potter, I see you have not been trained in proper etiquette for a person of your status – haven't you?"

Harry blinked, taken aback. "Um...what status? And what is a Scion,"

"You don't know?" she replied with a smirk. "Well, Cygnus is not going to be happy about this…" Daphne nodded knowingly, her head whipped towards Harry with the realization that everything made sense now.

"That actually explains so much," she muttered under her breath before focusing on the matter at hand. "Anyways, mother, I need to talk to father about something that only he can answer…"

Ms. Greengrass waved at an open doorway, which was framed with flickering candles and a garland of marigolds and herbs. Ms. Greengrass gestured both of them to follow her down the hallway.

"Potter, I know what you're about to ask and I will explain it to you when we get back to Camp Half-Blood," said Daphne.

Ms. Greengrass led them through a dimly lit hallway, the walls adorned with portraits of stern-looking wizards and witches in ornate frames. When they reached the end, she gestured to Daphne and Harry to wait outside. As she walked in and closed the door to the study, they heard the faint sound of pages turning.

Inside the study was a tall and muscular man with icy blue eyes like frozen lakes on a winter's day. He had dark brown hair that fell across his forehead in waves, framing chiselled features. He wore black robes with the Greengrass crest over his left breast, each thread carefully sewn by hand to ensure that every detail was perfect. He sat upon a desk made of a deep mahogany wood while writing on a roll of parchment with a quill dipped in ink.

The lighting within the room was minimal, with only a single candle flickering on a nearby shelf casting shadows throughout the space. Despite this, every inch of the room was filled with items - from stacks of musty books and potion bottles lining shelves to an assortment of enchanted objects strewn out across the desk. The air itself felt alive with an electric energy that seemed to hum beneath their skin.

The man, Cygnus, stared blankly at Alyssa. She fidgeted nervously under his intense gaze.

"Alyssa, why did Daphne come back on the same day she arrived at camp?" he said finally.

"Cygnus, I believe this is related to the letters she has sent when she was at school about her connection to Scion Potter," Alyssa replied slowly. "She arrived today with Scion Potter through the floo network from Hogwarts, and asked to talk to you."

Alyssa paused as if expecting a response that didn't come. She glanced around uncertainly before continuing.

"I have a feeling what that connection is," Cygnus murmured. "And I hope I am wrong, but with Scion Potter here, I will be able to confirm it."

Alyssa hesitated at the door, her fingers hovering over the knob. She glanced back at Cygnus who was pacing the room, smoothing out his midnight-black robes with agitated hands.

"Before I let them in," Alyssa began tentatively, "I'm going to warn you: it seems that Scion Potter knows as little about the wizarding world as a Muggleborn – he's completely unaware of his status or even basic etiquette. It appears Dumbledore has kept him in the dark; I also noticed he isn't wearing his Heir Ring."

Cygnus's eyes grew wide, and thunderclouds seemed to roll across his face. "WHAT!" he yelled. "I'll have Dumbledore's head for this!"

"Cygnus, calm down," Alyssa said sharply. "Let's answer Daphne's questions first, then we can see what we can do to fix the situation."

Cygnus slumped into an armchair and grumbled something under his breath before reluctantly nodding. "You're right," he said. "Let them in."

Alyssa stepped outside and announced, "Lord Greengrass will see you now."

Harry and Daphne walked into the study, which was filled with bookshelves and smelled of musty pages and old leather. Cygnus sat in his tall armchair by a crackling fireplace and pointed to two chairs for them to sit on.

He studied Daphne for a moment before he spoke. "Daphne, why are you here today? You were supposed to be at camp—wasn't this your first day? Is everything alright?"

Daphne looked tentatively at her father, her eyes wide and vulnerable. "Father, it's about September when I was sorted into Slytherin," she began cautiously. "I felt something with Harry; a connection that only grew the more classes we had together. By June, I felt his presence even when he wasn't around me. And when we talked closely for the first time- my trust in him and his words was solidified." Taking a shaky breath, she asked quietly, "Do you know what this connection is? Chiron thinks it might be either a soul union or an old marriage contract."

Cygnus nodded solemnly. "I had a feeling this would be the answer," he said. Gesturing to the rings on Daphne's fingers, he added, "If you both would take off your Heir rings, I will need to cast a few spells to reveal the auras of your souls."

Daphne quickly removed her Heir ring and set it down on the table. Scanning Harry's hands, Cygnus saw that he was not wearing his ring as well.

Cygnus' eyebrows furrowed as he studied Harry, and he asked "Mr. Potter, can you tell me where your Heir Ring is, and why are you not wearing it?"

Harry blinked in confusion, unsure of what he was referring to. "What… Heir ring?"

"We will address this later," Cygnus said. "But for now, I need both of you to hold hands. Do I have permission to cast a few spells on both of you to see what the nature of your connection is?"

Daphne stepped closer and grabbed Harry's hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "You do Father," she said firmly.

"You can Mr. Greengrass," Harry responded hesitantly.

Cygnus took out his wand and pointed it at Harry. "Anima signum revelare" he chanted. Next, he pointed to Daphne and cast the spell again. The silver aura surrounded Harry, while the golden-brown one surrounded Daphne. Both Auras danced around each other until they settled and when they did, they were bleeding into each other. Cygnus cancelled the spell.

Cygnus' eyes widened gradually, the slow dilation revealing his dawning realization. Daphne, watching her father closely, felt an excited thud in her chest, her heart racing as she sensed what was coming.

"That certainly clears things up," murmured Cygnus, absorbing his own discovery.

Eager for answers, Daphne's voice trembled slightly. "Father, what did you find?"

Cygnus hesitated, the weight of centuries pressing on his next words. "The two of you...you share a bond. A bond that hasn't graced the magical community for nearly six centuries. It's known as the Soul Union."

Harry, ever the inquisitive one, furrowed his brows. "Mr. Greengrass, what exactly does a Soul Union entail?"

"A Soul Union, Mr. Potter," Cygnus began, choosing his words carefully, "is the melding of two souls. But such a union isn't whimsical or random. Specific conditions must be met. For instance, the two souls in question must be born within a three-month span of each other. Daphne was born on June 30th, 1980, and you on July 31st, 1980. Additionally, there must be innate similarities between the souls. Both of you are demigods, metamorphmagi, and heirs to ancient magical families. There might be more criteria, but they remain elusive even to me." His face displayed a rare uncertainty. "Even with my position as an Unspeakable, our understanding of Soul Unions remains limited due to their extreme rarity."

Feeling the gravity of the revelation, Daphne asked, "Father, is there more about this bond we should be aware of?"

"Yes," Cygnus replied, his voice heavy. "Your bond will only intensify as time progresses. Once bound souls encounter each other, the connection becomes active. The longer you remain in proximity, the deeper and more intricate the bond grows. It might start as an innate sense of each other's location, evolve into detecting truths and lies, and then escalate to sharing feelings. Over time, you could discern each other regardless of appearance or form and might even share each other's physical pain. The full scope, however, remains uncertain."

Throughout this revelation, Alyssa remained silent, absorbing every word. But now she voiced her concerns. "I believe it would be wise to keep this revelation private. If the Ministry were to discover this, they might consider you legally wedded. And I doubt either of you is prepared for the implications of such a status."

"Indeed, Alyssa," agreed Cygnus. "Harry," he addressed the boy, "may I address you by your first name?"

Harry nodded, a bit dazed. "Of course, sir."

Cygnus turned back to his daughter. "Daphne, when do you need to return to the camp?"

"By 10 pm," she replied.

"That leaves us with some time. Let's use it to familiarize Harry with the histories of Houses Potter and Greengrass," Cygnus suggested.

Alyssa leaned forward in her seat and clasped her hands together. "Before Cygnus begins, can you tell me about your parents? What do you remember? And what do you know about the wizarding world?"

Harry's expression darkened as he spoke. "I know that the wizarding world is kept hidden from non-magical people, and I know that my parents were killed by Voldemort. But other than that, I don't know much." He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts.

"My mum," he began slowly, "is a goddess. And I had a piece of Voldemort's soul inside my scar all these years." The words sounded absurd and surreal even to his own ears.

Alyssa's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but she didn't interrupt.

"She told me her name," Harry continued, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "But she made me promise not to tell anyone until things are smoothed over with the other gods. And get this - she was punished and forced to live an entire mortal life as Lily Fairchild." Harry shook his head in disbelief at the wonderous nature of it all.

Cygnus adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat before speaking. "We will get to that later," he said, although a hint of anxiety lingered in his voice. "Let's start with your father's side of your family as I know more about that side than your mother's side of the family."

Alyssa gestured for her daughter, Daphne, to remain seated. "Okay, Daphne you can stay if you want to," she said.

Daphne sat up taller in her chair and looked her mother directly in the eye. "I am fine, mother," she said, her voice wavering ever so slightly.

Cygnus cleared his throat and adjusted the rim of his glasses. "Harry, your father was James Charlus Potter. He and his closest friends Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, and Remus Lupin were known as the terrors of Hogwarts. From what I hear, James was quite the prankster. He took up Auror work during the war but never picked up the family grimoire to learn magic. He fought You-Know-Who four times and won three of those encounters."

He paused for a moment before continuing. "Your grandfather, Charlus Henry Potter, was one of the toughest men I ever had the pleasure of meeting. During the Grindelwald wars, he led the British forces and singlehandedly sent his enemies into full retreat. He has been given the nickname 'The Butcher of Normandy' in remembrance of his services in that war."

Alyssa sighed fondly as she spoke of Dorea Violetta Potter Nee Black. "Your grandmother was the kindest woman I ever met," she said, "but don't get her mad; even Charlus fled! She was a miracle worker in the Grindelwald Wars and later at St. Mungos Hospital. There's a plaque there commemorating her work—I worked with your grandmother for seven years and I could take you to see it."

Cygnus took up the thread of conversation. "Moving on to your mother's mortal family," he said. "Like the Greengrasses, the Fairchilds are a prominent Shadowhunter family. Your mother was a talented witch who loved the outdoors, especially moonlight nights; she fought in the war too and nearly killed Bellatrix Lestrange. She embraced the wizarding culture and when she became Lady Potter upon your grandparents' murder in 1977, it would have been hard to tell that she was actually a Muggle-born."

Harry sat there, absorbing every word that was shared about his parents and grandparents. It was a lot to take in. The stories of his family's valour in the face of adversity made him proud, but at the same time, the weight of those legacies felt heavy on his young shoulders.

"The Butcher of Normandy?" Harry echoed, clearly astounded by the moniker. "My grandparents seem like they were truly remarkable people."

"They were," Alyssa responded softly, her eyes distant as memories of her time with Dorea came flooding back. "Your grandmother was a force to be reckoned with, but she had a heart of gold. And working alongside her at St. Mungo's was truly an honour."

Harry's gaze shifted from Alyssa to Cygnus, a curious gleam in his eyes. "And the Fairchilds? They were Shadowhunters? I've never heard of them."

Cygnus nodded gravely. "The Shadowhunters are a group of Nephilim, tasked with keeping the mundane world safe from demons. The Fairchilds are one of their most prominent families. Your mother was always destined for greatness. It's no wonder that she was able to stand toe-to-toe with the likes of Bellatrix Lestrange."

Daphne interjected, her voice soft yet firm. "And don't let the term 'Muggleborn' fool you. In many ways, Lily Fairchild was more deeply connected to the magical world than most. Her lineage as a Shadowhunter and her affinity for the moon and wilderness suggest an intrinsic link to old and powerful magics."

Harry's mind raced, trying to piece together this intricate tapestry of history and heritage. The revelation about his mother's divinity was overwhelming, but now, knowing about her mortal ties to the Shadowhunters and the powerful legacy of his Potter lineage, he felt a newfound sense of belonging.

Alyssa noticed the whirlwind of emotions playing across Harry's face and reached out to touch his hand gently. "It's a lot to take in, I know. But remember, Harry, your family's legacy doesn't define you. You get to choose your own path."

Cygnus nodded in agreement, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Indeed. History gives us context, but the future, Harry, is yours to shape."

Harry took a deep breath, feeling a mix of awe, pride, and determination. "Thank you."

Cygnus leaned forward in his chair, steepling his fingers thoughtfully. "Moving on, what do you know of your status in the Wizarding World?"

Harry frowned. "What status?"

"In magical Britain, much like its muggle counterpart," Cygnus began slowly, gesturing to either side of him for emphasis, "there is a system of nobility with five ranks: Baron, Viscount, Earl, Marquess and Duke." He paused for a moment before adding, "The Houses that hold these titles are called 'Noble' for Barons, 'Ancient' for Viscounts, 'Noble and Ancient' for Earls, 'Most Noble and Ancient' for Marquesses and 'Most Noble and Most Ancient' for Dukes. Are you with me so far?"

Harry stared at Cygnus in confusion as he spoke of titles and seals. He could barely comprehend the words coming out of his lips, let alone their meaning.

"Yes, Mr. Greengrass," Harry muttered.

Cygnus nodded. "Currently House Potter holds the title of Marquess of Anglesey which makes your house ranking Most Noble and Ancient," he said with a solemn expression. "I hold the title of Marquess of Powis which makes House Greengrass Most Noble and Ancient."

Harry glanced down at his feet before lifting his head to meet Cygnus's gaze. "I think I understand," he replied meekly.

"You, however, are only eleven and cannot take up your title as Marquess of Anglesey until you are twenty-one, so a regent should be appointed," Cygnus continued patiently. He gestured to Harry's left hand, "However, you will have to do that with the seal that is your Scion ring. But since you didn't know about it, you'll need to obtain it from the Goblins."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "I will do that when I go back to Diagon Alley to get my supplies for the next school year."

Cygnus clapped his hands together twice and grinned. "Excellent! Now let's move on to the Wizengamont," he said with a hint of excitement in his voice.

"Is that like the magical court or something," said Harry, eyebrows pinching together in confusion.

Daphne let out a small snort while Alyssa smiled at the boy's confusion. Cygnus chuckled lightly, shaking his head.

"You are Partially correct, Ironically Daphne asked the same thing when I first explained it to her," said Cygnus "The Wizengamont is a powerful body of law-makers and enforcers, like a combination of The House of Lords and The House of Commons all merged into one, they create laws and then rule over them as both judge and jury."

Harry nodded. Cygnus continued, his words a jumble of court terminology tumbling from his mouth. "The Wizengamont is a mixture of Hereditary seats, elected seats, and Department heads - each elected seat, baron, and department head, holds one vote, each viscount and earl hold two votes, and each marquess and duke holds three votes." He paused to make sure Harry was still following.

Harry nodded again, understanding beginning to dawn in his eyes. "So, I hold three votes?" he asked.

Cygnus smiled. "Correct."

Harry considered the information that Cygnus had given him with a thoughtful expression. He had been told about the Wizengamont, but he hadn't been aware of what it meant to be a member of the Wizengamont or how many votes he actually held.

He took a deep breath and asked, "What else do I need to know?"

Cygnus smiled and nodded his head in understanding. "Plenty, You should have had training in this as soon as you turned 8 years old, and that is something Dumbledore has to answer for," he said sternly. "But for now we will help you."

He paused for a moment before continuing. "Now House Greengrass and House Potter have been allies since the 11th century and I see no reason to quit." Cygnus' gaze softened as he added, "Your grandfather took me in when my entire family was murdered in 1965. It's only right we do the same."

Harry felt a wave of gratitude wash over him. He couldn't even begin to imagine what Cygnus must have gone through at such a young age but here he was, offering his help and support to Harry without any strings attached. He wanted to thank him, so he did, saying simply yet sincerely "Thank you, Mr. Greengrass."

Cygnus nodded in acknowledgment before asking with a warm smile on his face "Do you have any questions so far Harry?"

"I have a few more questions," Harry said, his mind spinning with all the new information. "What do I need to do as Marquess of Anglesey?"

Cygnus nodded in understanding. "There are a few things that you must do as Marquess of Anglesey. Firstly, you are expected to attend certain important Wizengamont meetings and debates in order to cast your vote and represent your House. Secondly, you will need to establish and maintain relationships with various Houses so that your House remains powerful and influential. Thirdly, it is important that you protect your House's interests by defending them during debates in the Wizengamont."

Harry nodded slowly, trying to take in everything Cygnus had said.

"You will also be responsible for ensuring that the laws of the Wizengamont are upheld within the borders of your House," Cygnus continued. "This includes making sure that any violations are addressed swiftly and appropriately, according to the law." He paused for a moment, studying Harry intently before he continued.

"Finally, it is important that you remember who you represent at all times," he said solemnly. "It is your duty to act with honour and integrity on behalf of both your house and the wizarding world at large; failure to do so could have dire consequences for both yourself and those around you."

Harry felt a chill run down his spine as he stared back at Cygnus solemnly. Finally, he nodded in understanding before falling silent once more.

Cygnus smiled reassuringly before continuing. "Now I know this sounds like a lot but don't worry; I'm here to help you every step of the way." He patted Harry on the shoulder gently then gestured towards Daphne and Alyssa. "As are they,"

"Father it is getting late, Me and Harry have to return to camp," said Daphne.

"Agreed, Daphne make sure you help him as much as possible, and if he needs it give him a copy of the Grey Book, and when he gets claimed tell me who his mother is, I think I know who it is, but I don't dare say her name," said Cygnus.

As Artemis stepped into Apollo's temple, she was met with the sight of her younger brother. He sat cross-legged in the middle of the room; a seventeen-year-old youth with curly blond hair and a golden tan. His tattered jeans were paired with a black T-shirt, and his white linen jacket shimmered with glittering rhinestone lapels. In one hand he held a lyre that he strummed while singing softly.

"Apollo," Artemis said, her voice gentle but firm.

Apollo stopped playing and looked up at his sister. He smiled warmly and moved to embrace her in an affectionate hug. "Arty-my favourite little sister," he said, "how may I help you today?"

Artemis pushed him off gently as she continued speaking. "Apollo, my annoying younger brother," she said, amusement lacing her words, "I need your help, in your role as the god of Prophecy."

"Help with what?" Apollo asked curiously.

"I need you to tell me if my son is protected by prophecy and what is the wording of said prophecy," Artemis replied firmly.

"He is protected by two different prophecies, actually," Apollo told her.

"And what are the wordings of each prophecy?" replied Artemis

Artemis leaned closer to hear Apollo's reply.

Apollo spoke in a low, ominous voice. "The first one is, the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..." He paused, letting his words hang in the air before continuing.

"And the second one..." said Artemis, her voice barely above a whisper.

Apollo sighed heavily and continued. "That one is much more serious. 'When humanities deadliest wars end...when Central Europe falls from grace...when the Elder gods swore not to have children...when humanities deadly crime ends...when an empire in the east and an empire in the west rise...when the maiden of the moon is punished...when civil war ravages an island...two souls tied together by a soul union shall be born to maiden of the moon and the goddess of harvest ...on the night of Samhain –the son of the moon's life shall be forever changed...raised in Tartarus on earth.. after his 11th summer but before his 12th mother and son shall be reunited again... Together the union of souls shall defeat the Cheater of Death and Great Manipulator before their 15th summer... after their 16th summer the union and one other shall force The Titan King to fade... all for naught -for after their 19th summer war with Earth Mother shall begin…" His voice quivered slightly as he concluded, leaving all present in stunned silence.

"That is Concerning," said Artemis.

A/N: This is the longest Chapter I ever written.

If you look carefully I gave several hints as to who is Daphne's divine parent.

This chapter Introduces the Political Side of this fic as you can tell,

Now the question is who do you think Alyssa is what is her relation with Daphne and why does Daphne call her mother?

Thank you all for those who reviewed, Followed, favourite, Kudos, etc .

This fic is having success in that I couldn't imagine, I was expecting maybe 15 followers for the first chapter maybe more maybe less but I did not expect to see over 100 follows on FFN alone. Thank you.

Review Please I try to reply to every review thank you.