Legal Disclaimer: I own my stuff, but not the original source material. That belongs to whoever. Also, the opinions and interpretations I use here may not reflect the same in said whoever that owns the source material. Look, I'm just a poor college librarian. Suing me isn't going to get you anything but tears.

Warning: This work may be offensive to some readers. Feel free to back out if that's you.

Author's Note: What kind of shipper would I be if I didn't write a Persephone/Hades AU?

Submitting Info:
Stacked with: Hogwarts (Term 10); MC4A
Individual Challenges: Click Bait It; Yellow Ribbon (Y); Yellow Ribbon Redux; Neurodivergent; Quiet Time; Short Jog; Ethnic & Present; Gryffindor MC; Slytherin MC; Winter Wonderland; Seeds; Sett to Destroy
House: Hufflepuff
Assignment No.: Term 10 – Assignment 9
Representation(s): Autistic Harry Potter; Blaise Zabini/Harry Potter; Persephone/Hades
Bonus Challenges: Unwanted Advice; Mouth of Babes; Tomorrow's Shade; Second Verse (Persistence Still); Chorus (Odd Feathers; Wabi Sabi; Fizzy Lemonade; Machismo; Peddling Pots)
Tertiary Bonus Challenges: T3 (Terrarium); SN (Rail; Ameliorate)
Word Count: 1165

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Chaos of Memory
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Harry couldn't help the laugh that escaped him as the little vine curled around a lock of his hair, tugging on it like the twins would do to Ginny when they were feeling playful. Despite how horrible the rest of his life was at the moment, at least he still had these quiet moments when it was just him and plants. He loved flying and being grounded made him physically ache to be back in the air, but this was something that no one could take from him. Aunt Petunia had tried for years before accepting that letting him take over the gardens was a better plan. Since Harry had been careful to not tell anyone at Hogwarts about his secret abilities, there was no possible way for Umbridge to even think about trying.

Besides, anything the Pink Toad tried was likely to fail. Aunt Petunia was a very creative person when it came to punishments. She had tried everything from starving him to locking him away from dirt. None of it had done anything except made the plants around Number Four even more eager to get to him, to help and protect him. While Harry didn't doubt that there might be some magical way of preventing Harry from using his abilities, he did doubt Umbridge's knowledge of it as well as her ability to implement it.

At least not having Quidditch training anymore allowed him to fit moments like this into his schedule. With both Ron and Hermione busy with prefect duties, and then Ron having Quidditch training on top of that, Harry had plenty of time to slip away to the stretch of woods behind the greenhouses. Most of the plants were already asleep for winter, especially the larger trees, but some (like the vines caressing him currently) were still awake and eager to play. He could feel the creeping edge of winter in the air around him, like a blanket that was being pulled over the land.

One of the vines grew a bud that immediately burst into a beautiful violet bloom. Laughing in delight, he pressed his face close to inhale the sweetness of it. A smaller vine curled around the flower's base, picking it delicately. Then it tucked the bloom behind Harry's ear with the same tenderness.

"Thank you," Harry murmured to the cluster of vines. It was rare that his plants gave him gifts, though not as rare as gifts from people. "It's so beautiful."

"It is nothing compared to you," came a voice from the shadows nearest the greenhouses.

Harry tensed, resisting the urge to spin to face the threat. He knew from experience that his plants were always very protective of him. Aunt Marge had almost lost Ripper to the rose brambles near the apple tree in the back garden because of that protectiveness. He had a much better chance of convincing whoever this was to not tell if he could keep the vines from lashing out at them. Instead of spinning, Harry slowly turned to face the speaker.

Harry vaguely recognized him as a Slytherin in the same year. He had dark skin, like rich soil, and eyes the color of potion-grade amethyst. His hair was the color of rain-soaked bark. It had been separated into many tiny braids that had then been gathered into a single larger braid that draped over his shoulder like a medieval princess. A band of gold kept the braid together at its end. The band had something like feathers worked into it, but the boy stood too far away for Harry to see any more detail than that. The boy raised his hands in the universal sign of surrender.

"I mean you no harm," the boy said soothingly. Harry could feel something stirring within himself. It felt similar to all the times he had done accidental magic crossed with how he felt when plants reacted to him. Whoever this boy was, he felt even more familiar than he looked. "I would never mean you any harm."

"Who are you?" Harry asked. The boy grinned, as nervously as triumphant. He took a step closer only to hastily take two steps backwards when the vines snapped out threateningly. Harry ran a hand down the nearest vine to soothe the cluster. "They don't trust very easily. I suggest answering my question before trying to approach."

"It is a fool who answers with their true name," the boy answered, "but then for you, who wouldn't be a fool?"

"Are you flirting with me?" Harry asked, incredulous that anyone would even want to, let alone a Slytherin. Yet this didn't resemble all the giggling and hair tossing that had followed him when the Yule Ball had been announced last year. It felt more serious than wanting a date to a school dance or someone to walk around Hogsmeade with. It felt both more real and like something out of a dream at the same time. Given the realness of his dreams lately, he couldn't completely dismiss the idea that he was dreaming. "Who are you?"

"I am Blaise Zabini," he answered finally, "and yes, I am trying to flirt with you."

"You're not doing a very good job of it."

"Hence the trying part of that statement."

Harry couldn't help it. He tossed his head back and laughed. Still grinning, Harry met Blaise's deeply purple eyes, which were sparkling in even in the growing twilight around them. His gut squirmed as it usually did when he met someone's eyes, but this felt right as well as overwhelming. Blaise held out his hand to Harry, sparking another sense of almost-familiarity to stir within Harry. Slowly, Harry reached out in return.

Using their joined hands, Blaise pulled Harry from the cluster of overprotective vines. Once free, he spun them both in a circle that ended with Harry pressed against Blaise's chest. Blaise's hands had drifted down to Harry's waist. They were warm and firm but not in a threatening way or even a demanding away. Harry felt safe for the first time in as long as he could remember. The feeling of familiarity was a pounding drum in the back of Harry's mind now, as demanding as one of Dudley's tantrums. Harry tilted his head up to look at Blaise's face. He licked his lips and felt powerful when Blaise's eyes tracked the motion.

"I know you," Harry whispered. "I know you."

"I certainly hope so," Blaise said in equally hushed tones, "or I'm going to have a very wrathful wife on my hands."

"You're Hades," Harry said before thinking about it. Until he said it, Harry hadn't realized just how true a statement it was. Blaise grinned down at him.

"And you're Persephone," he said, "my dearly beloved queen."

"Your queen demands a kiss," Harry demanded brazenly, feeling both out of sorts and like he was finally how he was supposed to be. When Blaise obliged, it felt like coming home from a very long trip.