Yes, this is a speedy update for the first time in forever. I'm super super happy with this considering it's only been two/three days since I last updated, I really just wanted to get another chapter out to you guys, mostly because your reviews are so nice. I hope you like it!

A note on where this story is going and why I updated so quickly: a couple of days ago I sat down and planned out the rest of Part II in detail. There's going to be around another five chapters. Yes, Part II will be significantly shorter than Part I, but that was always part of the plan. The first few chapters of this story are significantly shorter and there's a lot of set-up and build-up, with the whole demigods meeting the wizards, that made Part I longer than planned. But anyway, planning the next few chapters really motivated me, and I wrote this chapter straight away. Hopefully that continues, especially since I've got a detailed plan now!

Important note: I admit it, I messed up in the last chapter. I forgot to explain what happened to Nico. I know it's been a while, but if you remember he was with them in the British camp. I meant to explain that he went back to Camp Half-Blood and is going to try and look into the whole Tartarus thing in the last chapter, but it completely slipped my mind. Sorry! I've since added it into the chapter, but I thought I should let you know in case any of you were confused.

Thank you so much for your reviews! This chapter is a celebration of hitting 1000 reviews, which is just so...crazy and phenomenal, it's actually really hard for me to process. I know this past year I've been really annoying with updates, and honestly I can't promise changes, but I can promise to continue trying. Thank you all!

Previously:

"Harry, what's wrong?" Piper asked. "Did Dumbledore's lesson go badly?"

Harry crawled into his bed. "I'm sorry, guys, I'm really tired. I don't want to talk about it right now."

"Of course," Piper said straight away. They both made to leave, when Harry called them back.

"You've never heard of Horcruxes, have you?" Harry asked. They both shook their head. "No," Harry muttered. "I should probably ask Hermione."

And with that Harry rolled round, clearly indicating he wanted some sleep. Ron wondered what on earth was going on.

"Harry, look," Percy said, nudging Harry. "It's Slughorn." And sure enough, Slughorn was ordering drinks at the bar, face red and cheery.

Harry had told them about what Dumbledore had showed him, about Slughorn's incomplete memory, and how it was Harry's task over the Christmas holidays to get the full one. Harry sighed.

"I better go talk to him," he told them, before approaching Slughorn.

"What is it?" Annabeth asked, as the letter provoked similar reactions from Frank and Piper sitting next to her. Hazel handed the letter to Annabeth (who was sitting next to Ron) without a word, looking sick.

Ron peered over Annabeth's shoulder while she read the letter, and he suddenly understood their reactions. He felt his stomach drop.

On the parchment was written one in line in spidery black handwriting:

I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE. YOU DON'T BELONG HERE.

Chapter 11-The Letters from Someone

Harry

It's nothing. It's nothing, and you'll be fine. No one knows the truth.

Harry repeated the mantra many times on Christmas day, knowing his friends were shaken by the message. Hermione had tried all sorts of spells to trace where the letter had come from, but none of them worked.

"Whoever sent the letter definitely charmed it well," she said. "They put the thought into it, and that makes me think they're a pretty good wizard or witch." After a second, she realised what she had said, and awkwardly tried to back-track. "But I'm sure it's still just a school kid prank."

Hazel seemed the most upset. "The owl came to me," she said, mostly to Frank, but everyone else heard. They were in their corner of the Gryffindor common room, the fire blazing. It was empty but for them, most people home for the Christmas holidays. "Why me?"

"I don't think it means anything, Hazel," Annabeth said gently. Frank squeezed Hazel's hand.

"It was probably meant for all of us, the owl just had to choose someone to give the letter to," Frank suggested, but Harry heard the doubt in his tone.

Hazel still seemed upset. "It was probably nothing, guys," Harry said, not liking the fact that Hazel, who was usually so cheerful and kind, was feeling like this. "But even if it is something, it's not worth thinking about."

"Someone sent us an anonymous threatening letter, suggesting they know we're demigods, and it's not worth thinking about?" Leo asked incredulously.

"Yes," Harry said firmly. "You can't do anything. We'll wait. We'll see if you guys get another letter. But until then, if it happens...there's nothing you can do. So it's not worth worrying about." Harry smiled at Hazel.

Out of all the demigods, Harry had probably got to know Hazel the best. Most recently, she had been the one to spend time with him as Ron and Hermione started spending more time together, without him. But he was good friends with all of them. They were good, kind people, and though Harry probably didn't show it well, he was grateful for all their support. They had been the ones to find out the truth about Voldemort. They had risked their life for him, and he would try his best to support them during this.

As it turned out, another letter didn't come. Weeks went by, and the holidays ended and term began, and there was no indication that anyone knew the truth about the demigods. They soon all forgot about it, dismissing it as nothing more than a mere prank.

Harry's attentions were soon swallowed by Slughorn. He had failed to get his memory over the holidays: when he had brought it up, Slughorn had become angry at Harry for the first time. But Harry wouldn't give up so easily.

"I'm going to talk to him at the end of the lesson," he told Percy, his potions partner. Even though Percy had got a new textbook a while ago, they still shared the Half-Blood Prince textbook, both appreciating its wisdom. They were in potions now, cooking another draught, this time a tickling one. It seemed basic at first, but even Hermione and Annabeth, also partners, were struggling. "Hopefully we can do really well with this potion, you know, butter him up."

"Butter him up?" Percy said, looking at Harry. "Is that a thing people say?"

"Yeah," Harry said, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "Why, is that not an expression in America?"

Percy shrugged. "It might be, I've just never heard of it. Either way, you British people are weird."

"You're a demigod," Harry said, staring at Percy, "but you find British people weird?"

"There are British demigods," Percy reminded him, "and I find them weird too."

"You're weird," Harry muttered.

Percy cracked a smile. "Yeah, that's true. But us chosen ones of the prophecy, we have to be a bit weird, don't we?"

Harry shushed him, glancing around furtively. "Can you not mention prophecies here? And by the way, I do not appreciate being lumped in the same category as you. Now, pass the essence of elderflower."

Percy glanced at their textbook. "The Prince says only use a couple of drops." Harry nodded, not noticing the thoughtful expression on Percy's face. "You know," Percy said, lowering his voice, "I think the Prince is weird too, if you know what I mean."

Harry stared at him. "I have absolutely no clue."

Percy sighed. "I think he's a British demigod."

Harry was taken aback. "What makes you think that?" was all he could manage to say.

"The half-blood Prince. That's another term for demigod," Percy pointed out.

"It's also a term for some wizards," Harry reminded him. "And that's probably what it means."

Percy looked unconvinced. "I don't know, I just have a feeling there's something more to this guy." Their conversation was cut short when Slughorn bustled over, and they quickly returned to mixing the potion. Adding another drop of essence turned it the perfect shade of blue, and Slughorn beamed as the lesson ended.

"Well done, you two have outdone yourselves as always. You can all pack up, but make sure to look at Potter and Jackson's potion before you do, it'll be a great example!"

Harry smiled to Percy, and as the class filed out he moved to the front. "Professor?" he asked, and Slughorn turned around.

"Yes, Harry?" Slughorn asked, his grin fading as his expression turned wary.

"I have a question to ask."

"About potions?"

"Well, not exactly, no…" Harry was cut off by Slughorn moving abruptly.

"Sorry, Harry, just remembered that I have to run. You can ask me another time." And just like that he was out of the door, leaving Harry alone in the classroom with nothing but his thoughts and the feeling of failure.

The wind buffeted Harry as he flew through the air. His quidditch robes were drenched thanks to the rain, and Harry had been day-dreaming of a nice warm bath when he had caught sight of the snitch. Unfortunately, he soon lost sight of it again in the murky conditions.

"It's no use, Harry," Ginny shouted from a short distance away from him. "The weather's too bad. We can practise tomorrow instead."

Harry felt a twinge of annoyance. He had wanted to get three more practises in this week. But a clap of thunder was enough to convince him that Ginny was right.

"Ok, to the ground, everyone!" he yelled. "We'll call it a day."

Half an hour later and everyone had dried down. Ron grumbled. "I can't believe we had to miss dinner for that. Weather's always bad at the wrong times, isn't it?" Harry had scheduled practise for three hours, but they had been forced to stop after a measly half an hour, and Ron clearly didn't appreciate that.

Frank shrugged. "It's not been that long, you might just be able to make the last servings of food."

Ron immediately brightened up. "Well, what are you waiting for then? Let's go!"

Harry, who had been looking forward to sitting by the fire in the common room, groaned. "Good job, Frank."

They were soon on their way to the Great Hall. "Hurry up," Ron was saying, "we might even be able to catch the others."

"Unlikely," Jason replied, "considering Hermione and Annabeth went to the library, and Piper, Percy and Leo are all in detention for their prank earlier this week."

"What prank?" Ron asked.

"It's a long story," Jason sighed.

"Well, Hazel might still be there," Frank said hopefully, as they walked through the entrance hall. His wish was granted sooner than expected, as they spotted Hazel leaving the Great Hall hurriedly.

"Hey, Hazel," Harry called over to her. Hazel turned to them, and Harry was surprised to see that tears were threatening to fall from her eyes.

"You're here!" Hazel said, as she rushed towards them. Too late, Harry realised she was holding a letter in her hand.

"Hazel, what happened?" Jason asked slowly. "What's wrong?"

"Look!" Hazel burst out, her eyes swimming with worry. "I got this letter when I was having dinner by myself, I don't know what to do-"

Harry interrupted Hazel's panicked speech by taking the letter from her hand. On it was written:

Don't think I have forgotten. Meet me in the second floor girl's bathroom in thirty minutes if you want to know the truth of what I know.

"It's from the same person," Frank said in realisation. He put his arm around Hazel. "Hey, it's okay. We'll figure it out."

Hazel nodded. "We have to go to the bathroom," she said determinedly, wiping away tears from her eyes. "We need to find this person...if he could know something-"

"When did you get the letter?" Harry asked.

"Twenty-five minutes ago," Hazel said. "That's why I was leaving the Great Hall."

"You were going to go by yourself?" Frank said, horrified. "It could be a trap."

"Frank's right," Jason said slowly. "None of this makes sense. Why would this person want us to meet them? Do they actually know? It just doesn't-"

"Even if there's a chance, we need to go ourselves. It's probably another student anyway, if they want us to meet in the second floor bathroom," Hazel pointed out.

"Moaning Myrtle's bathroom," Harry realised. "Hazel's right, we have to go check it out. We don't have much time, we need to go now. Ron, you go get the others, we may need backup. Start with Hermione and Annabeth in the library. The rest of us...we need to go the bathroom now. We're going to sort this out."

A few minutes later, and Harry, Jason, Frank and Hazel were warily entering the bathroom. The second floor bathroom had a strange layout, with rows of cubicles, meaning the person they were going to meet could be hidden behind any of them.

"Wands out," Harry warned. "We may need them."

As they walked in, Harry's heart started to pound in his chest, as he realised he may have just led his friends into a trap. What if it's not just a student? What if there are multiple people here? Harry couldn't shake off the feeling this had something to do with Voldemort, and if he was right then this might be a huge mistake.

Suddenly there was a loud whooshing sound and a shout, and Harry jumped out of his skin. But it was just Moaning Myrtle, an excited look on her grey face.

"Ooh, look it's four of you! That wasn't part of the plan, was it?"

Harry felt a chill run up his spine. "What plan, Myrtle?"

Suddenly he heard a loud curse word and a spell and a green beam of light was rushing towards Jason. Myrtle screamed and moved out of the way, seemingly forgetting she was already dead. Luckily Jason reacted quickly enough and dived out of the spell.

They're demigods, Harry reminded himself. They've been trained in combat. They can look after themselves.

"Move," Harry yelled at them, and they all split up, moving down the bathroom. As Harry moved, he realised puddles were forming on the ground, excess water spilling out of the sinks.

Harry heard another spell but he couldn't see it being cast. He heard Frank yell a spell in retaliation, and across the stalls he saw a glimpse of blonde hair and a recognisable expression. Draco? Harry thought.

It couldn't be Draco...Draco couldn't know about the demigods…

Harry was so preoccupied with his thoughts he didn't notice the red jet of light hurtling towards him until the last second. He jumped forward into the aisle between the cubicles and saw Draco. Quickly, he held his wand up, and a spell came to his mind, a spell he had read a few weeks ago in his potions textbook...one for enemies.

"Sectumsempra!" Harry could have sworn he heard a slash, and suddenly Draco had collapsed on the floor. Harry didn't move, and then he saw the water around Draco turned red.

And then Jason was next to Draco and his face was grim. Frank was moving around the bathroom checking for anyone else who could attack them, and Myrtle was wailing so loudly that Harry couldn't think.

"You killed him!" she screamed. "Noooo, you killed him."

Without realising Harry had moved next to Draco and collapsed to his knees. What have I done?

And then McGonagall had entered the bathroom, and was moving forward and placing her wand over Draco's wound and murmuring a spell, a grave look on her face. Ron, Hermione and Annabeth were behind her.

"What happened?" Hermione asked, horrified. Ron looked pale.

"He's dead?" Ron asked, Myrtle still wailing. McGonagall didn't answer, still murmuring her spell, and Draco, still unconscious, started moving slightly, his eyelids opening to reveal his eyeballs had turned white.

At this Hazel started choking slightly. "No," she said, "no, no, this is all my fault. It was my idea to come here."

"What happened?" Annabeth asked, repeating what Hermione said, her eyes trained on Draco.

"We thought he might know we're demigods, he might know our secret, we came here because of the letter-" Hazel tried to explain, but she stopped when McGonagall shushed her.

"Enough, Miss Levesque," she said, standing up and finishing off the last bit of her incantation. "Whatever has happened here is very serious indeed, but we shall sort it all out later. Right now, we need to get Mr. Malfoy to the hospital wing."

Fifteen Hours Later

Draco

All Draco Malfoy saw was darkness, and all he felt was pain.

And then, slowly, he felt himself float upwards, and then his eyes were open and he was looking at two blue orbs.

"Draco!" Pansy shrieked, her nose an inch above Draco's, her blue eyes filling with glee. "You woke up."

"What's happening?" Draco asked. It felt like his chest was on fire, and when he tried to sit up he felt his muscles burn in agony.

"You're in the hospital wing," Pansy told him. "I decided to visit you before breakfast."

And then Draco remembered. He remembered it all, and he remembered who did this to him. Potter…

"How did it go, then?" Pansy whispered excitedly.

"I'm in the hospital wing and none of the Americans are with me, how do you think it went?" Draco snapped at her.

Ever since Voldemort had given him his mission last summer, to kill Dumbledore and find out more about the Americans, he had been failing at both. He had tried to find out more about the Americans, to no avail. He had even sent Pansy and Blaise to eavesdrop on them in Hogsmeade to see if they could find anything. They hadn't found anything concrete, but they did report the Americans acting strangely in some ways…

When Christmas had come and Draco still had nothing, he had become desperate. He had sent a letter to the Americans during breakfast so he could see their reactions. And they had reacted, turning pale and shaky, and they had started whispering between themselves. Their reactions confirmed to Draco, like he had wanted, that they were hiding something.

Yet he had still been no closer to finding out what it was. And so he had sent a letter when the smallest one of the group, the Levesque girl, had been all by herself, her friends either in detention, the library or quidditch training. He had hoped to lure her to the bathroom and then torture some information out of her. Blaise didn't think he could do it, didn't have the guts to torture a fellow student, but Draco was desperate. If he didn't get any information, Voldemort would kill his family. He would torture any number of the Americans to stop that.

"What went wrong?" Pansy asked, disappointed.

"There were four of them," Draco said softly. "Potter used a spell on me...and then McGonagall healed me."

Suddenly whispers of a memory came back to him. The last thing he had remembered was Potter using his spell...but now he was remembering more. McGonagall had used a healing spell on him, he was sure of it, and he had been conscious during it...it had brought him back briefly. And he could hear what was going on.

He remembered McGonagall's chanting...Moaning Myrtle's wailing...and then Granger and Chase asking questions...and the Levesque girl responding…

Suddenly fire flooded Draco's veins, and he wanted to jump out of the bed and write a letter straight away. He remembered. He remembered Levesque saying they thought Draco had known the truth about them...that they thought he had known they were demigods…

What were demigods? Draco didn't know, but he would find out. And either way, he now had information to report. He had something concrete.

Draco decided the moment he got out of the hospital wing, he would write a letter. He would write that the Americans were demigods, whatever that meant. And he would send that information to Lord Voldemort.

Like I said, I've got a detailed plan for the next few chapters. Hopefully that means I'll want to write quicker.

Also, one more quick note. This chapter is called 'The Letters from Someone', I couldn't resist the call-back though. I did get a review saying I should work on better chapter names though...I often struggle with the chapter names, if you have any advice/ideas please let me know!

As you know, I'm really mostly motivated by reviews. Some of you guys are just so kind, and I really really appreciate them. Please tell me what you thought of this chapter!