WARNING: mentions of past rape, pantheon shenanigans being what they were.
Last time...
"I believe we are done here, Professor Umbridge, unless you wish to tell the king exactly how you have been treating his princess." Severus stated, making to stand. "I am certain he would love to know how you've been making attempts to use magic to keep her out of your classroom, or objecting to her even being taught in this school because of what she is, or how you've been trying to undermine her apprenticeship with me."
"All misunderstandings!" She insisted when the king turned his full attention to her; even the snowy owl glared at her imperiously.
"I'm sure." The king…this foul creature…replied snidely. He turned his attention back to Potter. "Should you need me, my friend, you need only call for me, and I will answer."
Chapter 74
"Lítit Auðit!" She hears only seconds before being engulfed in a hug that reminds Hera more of Hagrid than she thought it would. "My dear, I thought…When Thor informed us he had wished you away…when you did not return to us…I thought you were lost forever, even with his assurances that you had saved yourself. Why did you take so long to come back?"
"Uh…How long has it been exactly?" Hera hesitantly asked, once Frigga had eased away from the hug. It was only then that she got a look at her surroundings; a small table out in the garden, two place settings. "I feel like I'm interrupting something. I can always come back later."
"No, please stay." Frigga insisted, moving magic about in order to change the place settings to include a third. "I am quite certain my other guest will love you as well."
A woman appeared not long after that, simply appearing in the royal gardens. She was beautiful, with long dark brown but almost auburn hair. Her green eyes reminded Hera sharply of her own, along with the mischievous smirk the woman got upon seeing her. Her clothes were definitely not of Ásgarðr, reminding Hera strongly of the Grecian robe she'd worn for the Yule Ball, though there was a lot more blue and gold to this woman's ensemble. The woman looked at Hera as if she knew all her secrets, and it was a little unnerving to be so caught out.
"My friend, you have brought a guest!" The other woman exclaimed happily. "It is a good thing I've brought plenty of pomegranates to share."
"Hera, you're right on time." Frigga welcomed, her arm wrapped around Hera's shoulders as if sensing her wish to run. "Come, I want you to meet someone."
"You remind me of her youngest son, but there is something…more…about you." The woman, because Hera could hardly reconcile that this was THE Hera, noted. "Who are you?"
"My name is Hera Potter, Your Majesty." She bowed low at the waist. She'd eat dirt before she'd ever curtsey to someone, even royalty. "You're Hera? THE Hera? Zeus' better half and all that?"
"That is the first time I have ever heard that particular title, but yes." Queen Hera confirmed in amusement, now choosing to sit at the proffered table. "You are an unexpected guest in my eyes, but it is clear that my friend adores you. Come, Hera Potter, and we can dine as we learn of one another, yes?"
…
"Okay, so you're telling me all those stories are real?" The young girl asked, both fascinated and horrified in equal measure. "You're literally telling me that Zeus gets a free pass for raping his way across the Nine; tricking women into thinking he's an injured animal, and then shifting back to take what he wants after they let him in? Just because he's the King of the gods over on Olympia? You literally married him out of shame!"
Both Frigga and herself blinked as they absorbed this new perspective.
"And you!" Little Hera exclaimed, turning her attention to Frigga. "You're telling me that you were the blood price Ole Pirate Santa wanted when he offered to stop the war on your home world? That you're both war bride and hostage? He literally went 'Marry me and I'll stop killing your people'? And he has the nerve to call that an alliance?!"
"I'm not-"
"It wasn't-"
"When was the last time you got to visit with your brother?" Little Hera demanded, pinning the Queen of Ásgarðr with a look. "Your husband literally put him on the thrown, because should King Frey ever rebel, he has you as a bargaining chip. Tell me the man doesn't get nervous whenever you talk about your brother. Tell me he doesn't hold your sons over you for something trivial afterwards. Your sons think you two have a political marriage that grew into love. They have no idea their father demanded you as the price to be paid."
She pins Queen Hera herself with a look next.
"That man raped you; tricked you into thinking him an injured animal, and then overpowered you to take what he wanted. That you grew to love him does not negate what he did, that on some level a part of you knows you are not safe with him, or that he keeps doing the same thing to others despite having married you." The girl certainly held no punches as she summarized their situations. Queen Hera felt like she'd been punched in the gut for how brutal the honesty was; angry and defensive of her own honour as she was. "Oh, and that's not even counting how you somehow come to the conclusion that punishing the children his escapades create is the sound decision. What did they do? You punish them because you think you can't punish him, and that needs to change."
"What would you have me do?" Queen Hera scoffed. "Zeus is king."
"Yeah? Well, you're the Queen. Where I'm from, you respect those." Little Hera retorted. "I would have you get angry. I would have you get even. You are wrath and vengeance. You are the champion of women. Maybe it's time you remind him of that by cutting off his todger and then force feeding it to him. If he ever wants to keep the one I guess he'll grow back at some point, maybe it's best he learn not to stick it where it isn't wanted."
Queen Hera blinked as she absorbed this. When was the last time she had turned that wrath and vengeance upon her own husband in retribution? When was the last time he'd honoured her as his wife? In all the years that they had been together, Zeus had never been faithful to her. He'd not cared that it hurt her to see him parading around his conquests, willing and unwilling alike.
"You two come here to catch up, talk smack about the husbands, and then go home to endure it all again till next time. Nothing ever changes." Little Hera continued, getting a particularly mischievous glint in her eyes. "Maybe it's time to shake things up a bit."
Queen Hera noted the small crook of the girl's lips as she waited for them to react, and could not help the smile that crossed her own lips as well, before she remarked. "You are a mischievous little thing, I see."
"You look happy this morning, something not quite Quidditch game happy." Hermione noted, watching her friend get ready for breakfast. "What happened?"
"I finally decided to visit Asgarðr again." Hera admitted. "It was a very productive day for planning."
"Oh?" Hermione wondered. "What did you plan?"
Hera's grin widened as she gleefully replied. "Mischief."
Ron felt ill. What had he been thinking? Trying out for the Quidditch team? He must have been insane! Ginny looked pretty green as well, the two grimacing when they caught each other's eyes. So neither were prepared for Hera to just plop down in front of them, pretty as you please, as if they weren't about to face off against each other.
"Uh…Hera? Mate?…" Ron grimaced again as his voice wobbled in his nervousness. "I dunno if you know this, but we square off against each other in a bit. Might not want to be caught talking with the enemy, just a thought."
"Pish posh." Hera snorted, waving her hand as if to dismiss the thought. "Thought you could do with a bit of a boost."
She scooted over a dish of candied ginger that suddenly appeared on the table.
"Hermione was right. These things calmed my stomach that first game. If you don't eat anything else, at least snack on these." She insisted with a kind smile. "Also, I figured I should warn you. Draco planned a prank with Fred and George, said it was to take your mind off things, but I figured forewarned is forearmed. So…good luck today, Weasley."
A playful wink, and she was casually walking back to Slytherin.
"You know, if a bird winked at me like that, I don't think I'd be wasting my time being all gloomy instead of checking out her arse." One of the older boys down the way remarked, and was promptly elbowed in the stomach by Angelina.
"Don't listen to him, Ron." Lavender consoled him. "It's not your fault he acts like he was raised by wolves."
"I must've been mental to do this." he said in a croaky whisper. "Mental."
"Don't be thick," She scolded him firmly, passing him a choice of cereals. "You're going to be fine. It's normal to be nervous. Hera certainly was, you remember?"
"I'm rubbish," croaked Ron. "I'm lousy. I can't play to save my life. What was I thinking?"
"Angelina wouldn't have picked you if you were rubbish." Ginny scolded, smacking him on the arm. "Now come one, we've got to get down to the field."
Ron made sure to grab the entire bowl of candied ginger to snack on on the way down to the pitch.
…
The frosty grass crunched under their feet as they hurried down the sloping lawns toward the stadium. There was no wind at all and the sky was a uniform pearly white, which meant that visibility would be good without the drawback of direct sunlight in the eyes. Ginny pointed out these encouraging factors to Ron as they walked, but she was not sure that her brother was listening. Angelina had changed already and was talking to the rest of the team when they entered. Ginny and Ron pulled on their robes, and then sat down to listen to the pre-match talk while the babble of voices outside grew steadily louder as the crowd came pouring out of the castle toward the pitch.
"Okay, I've only just found out the final lineup for Slytherin," Angelina began, consulting a piece of parchment. "Last year's Beaters, Derrick and Bole, have left now, but it looks as though Montague's replaced them with Fred and George. Their backups are two blokes called Crabbe and Goyle, I don't know much about them —"
"We do." Ron surprised them, speaking up, gesturing to himself and Ginny. "Not very graceful mind, but their silent but stupid gimmick is just that; an act. They're smarter than they look."
"Well, we have more to worry about with Fred and George knowing our every move; Hera too." Angelina went on. "Everything we've used up till this year, they know. So you'd better not underestimate them. Got it?"
They could hear hundreds of footsteps mounting the banked benches of the spectators' stands now. Some people were singing, though Ginny could not make out the words. He was starting to feel nervous, but she knew her butterflies were nothing compared to Ron's, who was clutching his stomach and staring straight ahead again, his jaw set and his complexion pale gray. At least he no longer felt he needed to munch on the candied ginger. Now, if only she could get him to believe in his own confidence.
"It's time," Angelina announced in a hushed voice. "C'mon everyone . . . good luck."
The team rose, shouldered their brooms, and marched in single file out of the changing room and into the dazzling sunlight. A roar of sound greeted them in which Ginny could still hear singing, though it was muffled by the cheers and whistles. The Slytherin team were standing waiting for them. They were wearing silver crown-shaped badges. The new captain, Montague, stood waiting with his team. Hera, Fred, and George stood behind him, each giving an awkward and yet encouraging smile. Malfoy stood to one side, caught Ginny's eye and smirked, tapping the crown shaped badge on his chest.
"Captains shake hands," ordered the umpire, Madam Hooch, as Angelina and Montague reached each other. They did so, and Ginny had to wonder at the lack of animosity from either of them. "Mount your brooms. . . ."
The song picked up enough for them to hear it before they could even get onto their brooms.
"Weasley cannot save a thing,
He cannot block a single ring,
That's why Slytherins all sing:
Weasley is our King.
Weasley was born in a bin,
He always lets the Quaffle in,
Weasley will make sure we win,
Weasley is our King."
Ron snorts, hunched over, shaking, but when Ginny got close enough to hear him, he wasn't trying to hold in tears…He was trying not to laugh, muttering to himself, "Don't laugh, don't laugh, be offended, this is offensive, don't laugh."*
She couldn't believe it, that out of all the things they tried, this is what relaxed him. "I'm going to kill them!"
"Don't do that, Gin," Ron insisted, falling back into his 'I can't believe I was ever worried about something so stupid' state. "They'll never do anything nice again."
"Nice." Ginny echoes, because what else is she supposed to say? How was this nice?
Waking up in the hospital wing is not an unusual occurrence for Hera, but she's a little confused about how she wound up there this time. Then it slowly comes back to her; the snitch, Ginny's frantic scramble to stop her, the pain exploding in her lower back. She couldn't move, but she couldn't figure out if it was because there'd been damage to her spine, or because Madam Pomfrey had her in a medical body bind. She began testing what she could move and what she couldn't, trying to determine what was bound or broken. Fingers and toes? Check. Hips? Painful but movable. Shoulders? Pain shot down her spine, but they moved. Lower back? That was a negative. But the question remained, was it bound or broken?
"Are you quite done?" Madam Pomfrey demanded, finally coming into view.
"Only just." Hera replied with a teasing grin. "Did you miss me?"
"That's it. I swear, a plaque is going right above this bed with your name on it." Pomfrey threatened, but Hera just grinned.
"Tell me it's not broken, and I'll love you forever." Hera declared with dramatic flair. Pomfrey snorted.
"You're lucky, Miss Potter. Had your spine been any weaker, it could have been broken in quite a few places. Can't believe…Quidditch is such a risky sport…" Hera let Pomfrey's fussing sooth her. "You have quite a few friends trying to get in here, you know? You're well enough for them to visit, and you can't escape since they can't move you."
"If I told you how I've been breaking out of here, would you let me walk out?" Hera offered.
"Only if you want to permanently injure your spine."
A night in the hospital wing it was then.
"Can you at least tell me if I caught the snitch?"
Madam Pomfrey sighed, which Hera counted as a win all its own.
…
"Please, just let me see her!" Ginny cried. "It's all my fault!"
"That's right, it's all your fault." Montague growled. "Pomfrey said she might never walk again, because of you!"
"That's why I need to see her, to apologize!" Ginny insisted, tears running down her face. Practically all of the Slytherin team guarded the door to the hospital wing, barring her entry. It felt like she'd been trying for hours.
Gryffindor had won the match, but it didn't feel like a win. Her friend was injured because of her, and everyone was mad in some way about it. She couldn't even see her to apologize! She hadn't wanted to hurt her friend, having only wanted to stop the snitch from being caught. Everything was such a mess!
"What's going on here?" Came Ron's voice as he shoved his way to the front of the crowd that waited.
Hermione stormed up with him, and demanded. "Why aren't you letting her through?"
"She's the one who injured her!" Montague repeated.
"It's not like she meant to!" Ron countered. "She's her friend too!"
"I think you should let her in." Malfoy's voice cut through the yelling, quiet and calm. "Don't make me go above your head on this, Montague, and no I'm not talking about going to my father."
"What are you even-"
"Do you think she'd want us airing this?" Luna asked, because she'd been standing with Ginny in silent support this whole time.
"It's either that, or call her brother. Which do you think is faster?" Draco pointed out, pinning the girl with a look, not that Luna seemed to mind.
As one, Hermione, Draco, Ron, and Luna raised their right arms.
"Before you go thinking something you shouldn't, we're Hera's shield-brethren, not her followers. She has this tattoo as well." Hermione snapped, before there could be any unrest in Slytherin House. "By rite of magic, we can act as family, and we say Ginny can go in. She wouldn't have held any anger towards one of you had you done something like this to her when she was on the Gryffindor House team, and she wouldn't want you to hold onto your anger at Ginny now."
Quote from Survival is a Talent by ShanaStoryteller over on AO3
