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Harry’s eyes zeroed in on the large basilisk, he knew that his prey was larger and deadlier, the only way he would be able to win against it would be a mix of determination and wit. Fawkes had already taken away the threat of the basilisk’s eyes which made the hunt much easier but there was still the matter of the skin. The basilisk’s exterior was tough and practically impenetrable, Harry could tell this much from how undamaged the scales appeared even after slithering through sharp debris. The only logical solution was to penetrate the skin from the inside, however, Harry was rather against getting eaten by a giant snake so he would need to get close enough to its mouth to stab it but not too close that it could eat him. This was not going to be easy.
Harry tracked the movements of the basilisk and noticed that it was unable to find him, he found this odd considering snakes were known for their extraordinary sense of smell but Harry shrugged it off, perhaps the scent of the chamber was overwhelming his own. The basilisk slid past where he was hiding in the tunnels and Harry made a run for it, he dashed toward the hideous structure of Salazar Slytherin and began climbing. The rock was damp from the moist air but he was still able to grasp it firmly, he climbed and climbed until he reached the head of the former founder.
RIP. TEAR. KILL. BOY. HUNT. MOON
The basilisk appeared to have found the boy as it furiously made its way over to the statue, it raised its head up high making direct eye contact with the boy despite its torn eye sockets. The basilisk opened its mouth to swallow the child when a sword with a red hilt pierced its upper mouth.
Harry felt the fang of the basilisk run through his skin and gasped out in pain. The venom intertwined with his bloodstream and began its ascent to his heart. Harry could hardly breathe as he watched the basilisk fall to the floor of the chamber but he needed to finish this. A hunt wasn’t finished until there was a victor.
Harry dropped to the ground and crawled over to the still body of Ginny Weasley, she was pale blue and her breaths were becoming less and less visible by the second.
“You may have defeated my basilisk but it doesn't matter, I would prefer to kill you myself,” The translucent form of Tom riddle was solidifying and it wouldn’t be long before Ginny would be dead and Tom would live.
Harry glared at the parasite, his eyes shifting to a glowing silver. “You wish, coward,” Harry ripped the fang out of his arm and stabbed the black diary in front of him. He could faintly hear Tom Riddle screaming and Ginny Weasley stirring but his mind could only focus on the searing pain shooting through his arm. ‘Help,’ Harry prayed, if he died then Ginny and Ron would be trapped down here forever. He needed to survive, if only for a few more minutes.
Artemis was in her tent going over hunting plans with Zoe when she heard a soft prayer. Most of her prayers are desperate or demanding but this prayer was a request, a soft request that shone through her mind as clear as moonlight. It called out to her. She must help whoever this was. “Zoe, you are in charge of the hunt for the time being. I have a situation that requires my immediate attention,” Artemis stated and without any further elaboration, she disappeared from sight in a beam of silver.
Zoe frowned, her mistress almost never acted so urgent. She wondered what had made her react so quickly.
When Artemis arrived at the sight of the prayer it was to find an empty chamber with a sixty foot dead basilisk. She moved forwards and inspected the beast, it appeared to have a puncture wound through the top of its mouth, whoever stabbed it must have been smart. She went to leave when she saw a puddle of blood a few feet in front of her. What caught her attention was that the blood was not pure red, nor was it the copper of regular demigods. It was red with a silver tint. Could it be? No, what a ridiculous thought.
Artemis had been lonely for many millennia, she felt herself grow sad when she saw the other goddesses with their children. It simply wasn’t just. She refused to abandon her oaths, she meant every word when she swore she would never lay with a man, but Athena has children and she is still a maiden. There must be a way for Artemis to do the same. With some guidance from Apollo and Hestia, she was able to find a ritual that would allow a babe of her choosing to become her own. She needed only to find a pregnant woman with qualities she admired.
Thus began the search.
It took months until she found Lily Evans Potter. The girl was fierce, bold, brave, stubborn, smart, cunning, and loyal. All of which were qualities she wanted for her child. So, one night when Lily was sleeping, Artemis snuck into her home and laid a hand on the woman’s stomach.
‘May your blood be mine own.
May your powers be that of the hunt.
May you grow with the moon.
By mine own blood I make thee mine’
Artemis allowed the cut she had made on her palm to seep ichor through the woman’s skin and into her womb. She felt a slight feeling of guilt, the ritual she had used would rip the husbands DNA from the babe and replace it with her own. It was wrong of course. The man was innocent despite his gender, but she had longed for a child for too long to allow such an opportunity to pass.
4 months later:
Artemis felt it as her child was ripped from the warmth of life and thrust into the hands of death. She felt the magic that had done it. She felt the pain of the child.
And then she felt nothing.
Silence filled her mind. The thoughts and feelings of her child that she had once had at the back of her mind disappeared.
On that night, Artemis isolated herself from her hunters and cried tears of despair for the child she never got to meet. It was the first time in centuries that she had cried. Artemis spoke of her sorrow for hours to the moon.
It took three days before Apollo found her and brought her back to her hunters. By then, she had allowed a cold mask to pass over her face. She would have no more children, she could not bear to lose another.
Artemis shook her head. It could not be. There was no point in deluding herself, her son was dead. There was no way of going back in time to change such a thing.
Harry was tired. He hadn’t been allowed a moment of rest when he reached the headmaster’s office. Dumbledore had all but interrogated him about the events of the night, by the time he was done answering the man’s questions he was just about ready to collapse. “Harry, I must ask that you give me the diary. It is a very dangerous artifact,” Absolute bullshit. Harry could tell the man was lying, he had destroyed the diary beyond repair. It was no longer dangerous, there was no need for it to be confiscated but Harry was too tired to argue. He threw the diary down on the desk and walked out of the office.
When he reached the dorms Ron was already there waiting for him with a bundle of questions. Harry groaned and stumbled into his bed where he continued to sleep for the next 48 hours straight. Turns out, Basilisk venom really fucking sucks.
Little did he know that somewhere in Long Island a young son of Poseidon was battling the Minotaur and was also in for a long rest.
Dumbledore was sitting in his office contemplating his options. Harry had defeated a Basilisk which meant his scent was about to become overwhelmingly obvious to monsters and gods alike. He could keep Harry in the dark and ignore the situation or he could call Chiron and have Harry spend his summers at camp. There were a few issues with this option though. Firstly, Albus had no idea who Harry’s godly parent was, only that they were extremely powerful. Secondly, the blood wards around the Dursley residence would fall without his stabilizing presence. And lastly, Harry would no doubt have a lot of questions, questions which he did not have answers to.
In the end, Albus decided it was best for Harry to explain the situation and send him to camp, no matter the effect it would have on the wards or on either worlds.
He summoned a rainbow and tossed a golden Drachma into the mist. “Oh goddess, I offer you my gold. Show me Chiron, Camp Half-Blood, Long Island Sound,” He chanted.
When the trainer of heroes appeared in the mist all Albus did was nod solemnly. “I’m afraid I will have to send the powerful demigod that resides at my school to your camp sooner than expected. The boy’s scent is becoming too noticeable,” his voice was sad. He was about to throw a boy into an unknown world completely unprepared but it was the only option.
“...I’m a what?” Harry said calmly but there was a dangerous undertone that lingered in the room. Dumbledore had just explained everything in a very long winded way that did nothing to help Harry’s temper, while a stranger centaur stood off to the side watching the exchange silently.
“A demigod,” Dumbledore responded.
Everything was finally adding up. The way his eyes changed color with his mood, how fast he was, his incredible stamina, the way he felt stronger at certain times (usually at night). It all made sense, these were not normal things to happen to a Wizard, this was the way of demigods. Harry had a god for a parent. A god that he had never met. He understood that gods were probably busy but a birthday card would have been appreciated. “So, I have to go with this centaur to a camp where I will train to fight monsters,” Harry stated with a blank mask across his face. The centaur nodded with a welcoming smile that Harry didn’t trust one bit. The only thing Harry trusted was the moon, it was always constant and never did anything that betrayed or frightened him. He felt safe with the moon. He did not feel safe with the centaur who had a bow and quiver strapped to his torso. “Right.”
The centaur stepped forward. “I will collect you at the platform of 9 and ¾ where we will portkey to my camp,” He explained. Harry wasn’t sure how to feel about the situation. On the one hand, he wanted to believe this man had his best interests at heart and on the other he wanted to grab the bow and shoot an arrow through his neck. Harry found that he could be violent when he was scared which wasn’t ideal for a child who was constantly put in scary situations.