Chapter Text
Apollo stalked down the empty halls of Hogwarts late after curfew that night, lost in thought. After the whole mess with the petrified cat and the message on the wall, Apollo knew something was going on. Something dangerous.
Ever since the vision with the horrible prophecy, Apollo’s nerves had been fried. He was good at writing up prophecies and trying to decipher them, at least, when they didn’t involve him. When prophecies involve him in them, it's a lost cause trying to figure out what's going to happen since the Fates have chosen Apollo, the God of Prophecies himself, as their newest plaything. All he can do is guess and hope they don’t do him as dirty as they’ve done with their many other chosen heroes. Gods just aren’t hero material. Gods as the chosen ones, especially when it's Apollo himself, nearly always end in tragedy.
Apollo had felt the presence of beasts, monsters, and non-human beings throughout the school, but had simply ignored it. He knew they were there, but with his frazzled nerves and mission to focus on, he hadn't paid as much attention as he should have. The Magical World is filled with ancient creatures and beings of all different mythologies and legends anyways. The school literally had a whole class centered around caring for magical beasts after all.
Some Greek Mythical creatures had migrated and adapted to the Magical World, and now have a central relationship with the rest of wizard-kind. Examples include Manticores who were classified by the Ministry of Magic as XXXXX (extremely dangerous and lethal). Wizards had also managed to tame a few descendants of the Chimera, treating some of them more like pets than dangerous, poisonous monsters. Even a descendant of Hade’s pet hellhound, Cerberus, who had been tamed and named Fluffy by Hagrid.
The Magical World had not just ancient Greek monsters, but Greek non-human beings too. Half-giants, very distant legacies of Gaea and Ouranos, lived among wizards. Some of Poseidon’s Atlantians, now called merpeople, had migrated to Europe and now live in Hogwarts's Great Lake. There were ghosts who’ve managed to get themselves stuck in limbo, tied to the living world by a thread until the day they fade to the Underworld, floating all over the castle. Hogwarts even had a whole clan of semi-friendly centaurs, distant relatives to Chiron, just chilling out in the Forbidden Forest.
So, surrounded by monsters and non-humans all the time, Apollo danger sense had been muffled by the sheer number of different beings and presences inside the school. He didn’t pay much attention to the monsters around him, even if they seemed dangerous. He’d assumed they were probably part of the Care for Magical Creatures course, magical beasts that the students were meant to learn with, or some pet the school was caring for. The uncomfortable, rumbling, hissing presence within the walls had been dismissed as a school beast. Afterall, he had thought, Hogwarts literally has a giant squid casually living in the lake and had housed a Cerberus in the third floor corridor just last year. What was a strange creature lurking in the walls?
Harry’s strange behavior during his detention with him had been his first warning that something wasn’t right. Harry had insisted an invisible voice had been speaking, but all Apollo could hear was a very faint rumbling in the walls speaking a language he knew was of the Magical World. As a non-native Greek God, Apollo couldn’t understand what it was saying but knew at that moment that this wasn’t normal. Perhaps if only Apollo could hear it, he wouldn’t have been as worried but Harry had heard it too.
That’s when Apollo realized something was up.
It only got worse when the incident with Ms. Norris and the writing on the wall had happened. The voice in the walls had been screaming bloody murder so loudly even Apollo, all the way across the castle, had heard it. This couldn’t be a coincidence. There was a danger in the school and Apollo’s gut was telling him it was connected to the voice. But what could it be?
This simple job of protecting one single student was proving to be a lot harder than he thought.
It did not help that Apollo was feeling more and more drained each passing day. He shouldn’t be here, he doesn't belong in this foreign world, essentially a whole other pantheon. He’s a Greek God who should be up on Olympus where his power and home was. Not down here, alone in a huge castle filled with magical mortal children who were lovely and all, but only made Apollo more bitter over how he could also have been spending all this time with his children in Cabin seven.
Unlike the other gods, who definitely also feel this same pain, they instead dealt with it by trying to ignore their mortal children. They tell themselves if they distance themselves, it’ll hurt less when their sons and daughters head to the Underworld. They try so hard to forget and ignore, they go too far and tend to forget their children are their responsibility.
But Apollo could never do that. He could never forget his children. Unlike the other gods who try to ignore, Apollo tries to remember before it's too late. He's not a perfect father but he tries. He set up Camp Half-Blood a millennia ago, stationing Chiron as the camp director. Apollo spent so much time at camp, he was there nearly as often as Dionysus, who had been punished as the new camp director and as a result had demoted Chiron to activities director.
Apollo always claims his kids the moment they step into camp. He tries to guide and visit them as best as he could with his paranoid, strict father hovering over his head. But there was never enough time. In the end, every mortal he’d ever met and cared about would leave.
Apollo is an immortal god who has been around for millenia. He’d seen unspeakable horrors and had even actively participated in the most gruesome and horrible wars himself. But he’s afraid he’ll never get over how heartbreaking a war (or two) could be, especially when his own children’s lives are on the line.
So many children died. So much blood spilled and lives lost. So many young boys and girls gone in two wars they should've never had to fight in. Apollo will never get to see his sons Lee Fletcher or Michael Yew again. Will Solace was deemed the oldest and most responsible of his sons and made camp counselor at thirteen years old. Apollo knew the life of a demigod was dangerous and often short, but this was young even by demigod standards.
He could hear them, all of them, his sons and daughters, Artemis, the whole of Camp Halfblood all wondering where he’d gone. He’d never cut all contact this long before. At least Artemis would always vaguely know what he’s up to, but this complete silent ghosting had everyone who cared about him spooked. He could hear the slowly increasingly worried prayers from his children even as far as a continent away. He could feel every single one, as if a knife had been shoved into his false heart and twisted, taunting him about all he’s done and all that he will lose.
Your children are wondering if you’ve abandoned them.
Your sister is asking if her brother is still there.
Your father is waiting for the day your cowardly, godly hide shows itself so he can punish his failure of a son.
But worst of all, they were right.
Again and again, he’s forced to leave family and friends. He’s not sure when he could go back, if Zeus would even let him return. He was in hiding and this was nothing more than a temporary deal. He’ll miss more precious time with his demigod children who live such short but bright lives. He’ll never understand how mortals could live when death looms as a threat over their heads all their life. They all try so hard and fight for their lives, yet in the end, they all inevitably pass on to the Underworld.
They never stay for long and always leave so quickly. One moment, Apollo’s smiling with a loved one and the next, they’re gone. It hurts like hellfire when he realizes their time was up and now he’s been left behind all alone. Again.
Sometimes, Apollo can't help but curse being immortal. What he’d give to be able to follow a loved one all the way to the other side.
You’ve failed as a father, as a brother, as a lover, and as a son.
Over and over again, he makes the same mistakes and endures the loss of his loved ones as timeless as the gods.
This was self-exile. Self-punishment. He was running away, ignoring his problems, as he’s always done. How does being immortal, being a god, being his father’s son matter if this was all he could do in the face of judgment?
Time. He had so much yet far too little time. Plenty of time to exist, not enough time with mortals he cares for.
Apollo could admit he was a mess of a god, but he would never leave his loved ones hanging. His children believed in him, his mother trusted him, and Artemis was waiting for him.
Apollo stopped pacing the halls, his last echoing steps abruptly stopping in the eerie dark hall. No, he could never leave this place until his mission, his quest, has been completed. But he will return to his children, his friends, his family, and his sister. No matter what.
“I promise, I swear on the River Stynx, I will return home to you.”