From Demigod to Half-Blood

Chapter 1

A 16 year old stands over his father holding a long sword and says, "You may not understand what I'm about to say, father, but I won't make the same mistake this time around."

"W-What are you talking about Draco?" Lucius asked, holding his broken wand in hand. "Why are you doing this?"

"For redemption," Draco replied, his grey eyes darkening with blood caked around his right eye. "This is not my first life, Lucius. I was a Demigod in my previous life. A Son of Hermes. I was a traitor and I swore on the River Styx to never go down that path again... Which is what I will be doing if this continues. Goodbye Lucius. May you rest forever in eternal pain down in Asphodel."

With a single swing, Draco Malfoy, previously Luke Castellan, beheaded his father before walking to his father's study, wrote a letter to an old friend/enemy and then called the DMLE.

That night; Epping Forest

"I hate those dam portkeys... Hello Draco."

"I see that you got my letter," Draco said, not turning to face the guest. "How are you?"

"I'm good. I heard that you killed your father earlier today."

"That's right."

"...What do you know of the others?"

"As far as I know, me and you are the only ones who are back. Do you have it?"

"It's in my father's vault, I should be able to get it once I take up Lordship."

"Then you should take it up quickly, if we're going to go into battle then you should have a trusted weapon in your hands.."

"I'll take care of that along with an impending attack at the Quidditch World Cup."

"I'll see you at Hogwarts or the World Cup then," Draco said finally turning around. "You'd better get back to your Aunt and Uncle's place before they beat you again. See you soon Harrison James Potter."

"I thought I told you to call me Harry?" Harry muttered before disappearing by portkey, leaving a smirking Draco Malfoy behind.

2 Weeks later; Quidditch World Cup

Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived and Slayer of the Basilisk, was sitting in a tent while drumming a ball-capped muggle pen on his knee when he heard a familiar sounding roar. Arthur Weasley, the father to his best-friend in this life came rushing into the tent and said, "We need to go now."

"Why?" Harry asked his grip tightening on the pen in his hand. "What's going on? What was that roar?"

"Monsters that should be dead are now alive," Arthur replied. "We need to go now."

"I'm not going Mr. Weasley," Harry replied looking at the signet ring on his finger that had the Potter Family Crest. "A Potter never leaves when they can do something about it. I'm not going until those monsters are dead."

Harry then walked out of the tent and uncapped the pen which caused a bronze sword to appear in his hands. The sword is colored a shimmering bronze with a double-edged blade, a leather-wrapped grip and a flat hilt riveted with gold studs. This is Harry's most powerful weapon.

Slashing downwards, Harry killed a hellhound and, as it turned to dust, killed another as it pounced on him. Before long, Harry was covered in golden dust and was nearly struck by a humanoid clawed paw when a sword that was half bronze, half silver cut through the beast with relative ease.

"Thanks, Draco," Harry said without turning around as he beheaded a child cyclops. "I do not feel like being turned into a werewolf at any time of my life."