Disclaimer: I don't own any of the books written by Rick Riordan or JK Rowling.
A/N: This story has been in the works for a very, very long time. The plot notes had been in development since the House of Hades released - as such you may see things in here eventually that don't add up to the later books.
September 2nd, 1991
The gates of Hogwarts were a sight no one could have imagined just a few months ago. Once towering symbols of strength, they lay twisted and half-destroyed, hanging off their rusted hinges. The battle that had raged here left its scars – not just on the castle walls, but on the people who had survived it. The sky was a sullen grey, clouds hanging low as if mourning the death and destruction in this place. Smoke from still-smouldering fires drifted lazily into the sky, the last remnants of a war fought to the bitter end. The grounds were littered with debris – shattered statues, broken wands, and even the bodies of the fallen – from both sides of the war.
Ariel Potter stood silently at the entrance gates or what was left of them. The towering wrought-iron structure had been obliterated, leaving only jagged edges that reached skyward. She glanced at the blackened earth beyond, the air thick with the scent of ash and burning. Her chest tightened as she felt the world's weight pressing down on her shoulders. It had been over. But at what cost?
Her red hair, streaked with soot and grime from the battle, whipped in the chill breeze. Once, she had worn it long, but now it was bound messily, still falling in strands across her face. Her green eyes, sharper than ever, flickered with bitterness, perhaps, or exhaustion. She had fought with every fibre of her being, but here she was, staring at the ruins of a place that had once been her home.
Her fingers clenched around the wand, the familiar wood worn smooth from years of use. Like everything else, she could feel its pulse, but it was weak. It had seen too much, just like her. For a brief moment, she thought about snapping it in two – it had seen a lot, and with it she had done a lot – good and evil. But even now, she couldn't part with it. The battle was over, but the scars it left behind would never heal.
Behind her, Hogwarts lay in ruins, but ahead was a broken world. One she no longer wanted to be part of.
"Ariel..." a voice called out, breaking through her thoughts. The tone was familiar, sharp, and nasal. She didn't need to look up to know who it was.
Draco Malfoy sauntered over, his footsteps too loud against the dead quiet of the grounds. He had always had a way of disrupting silence, of making his presence known even when it wasn't wanted. Especially when it wasn't wanted. Ariel's eyes flickered to the side as he came into view, his signature platinum-blond hair now slightly dirtied from the battle, but still as irritating as ever. He had never really changed, had he?
"Ariel," he repeated, standing just a few feet away. "It's over now, isn't it? We...we did it."
She didn't respond, her gaze remaining fixed on the ruins. The sight of him stirred something ugly inside her, burning hotter than the lingering fires around them. His audacity to even be here, let alone speak to her.
"Ariel, I wanted to–"
"Leave," she said, her voice cold as ice.
He blinked, taken aback, but continued anyway because that was what Draco Malfoy did. "Look, I just wanted to say–"
"Save it," she cut him off again, finally turning her gaze towards him, her eyes burning with loathing. "I don't care what you have to say, Malfoy. Not after what you've done."
He flinched at the venom in her voice. "But I've—"
"I don't care," she snapped. "You think you can just walk up to me – after everything, and what? Apologize? Beg for forgiveness? Do you think that's how this works? You've spent the last six years tormenting, torturing, and killing. Now, do you expect to waltz in and wash it away with a few pretty words?"
Draco's mouth opened, but nothing came out. He swallowed hard, his pale face even paler than usual. "I've repented for my sins," he managed, his voice shaky, but still holding that familiar arrogance. "I've done what I can to–"
"A change of mind doesn't change what you've done," Ariel growled, stepping forward, her wand still clutched tightly. "You became a Death Eater, Draco. You chose to torture people. You chose to support him." Her voice dropped, lower and more dangerous. "People like you don't get to claim redemption just because you've changed your mind. You still have to pay for your crimes."
Draco's jaw clenched. "I did what I had to! I didn't have a choice."
Ariel's lips curled into a sneer. "There's always a choice. You made yours. Now live with it."
They stood there in silence for a moment, the tension thick between them. Draco's face twisted with anger, frustration, and something desperate. He stepped closer, lowering his voice as if trying to reason with her. "What do I have to do, Ariel? How can I change your mind about me?"
She gave him a cold, withering look. "Serve your time." Her gaze dropped, eyes closing, dismissing him as if he wasn't even worth her time.
Draco's eyes flickered with something darker as he stepped closer again, his voice growing softer. "Is that all?"
Before she could react, he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a swift, disgusting kiss. It was over instantly, but the revulsion in her flared to life like wildfire.
Ariel didn't even need to move. The power that crackled through her lashed out on its own, flinging Draco away from her with a force that sent him crashing into the rubble. He hit the ground hard, a strangled cry escaping his throat as the back of his head struck a sharp piece of stone, blood immediately beginning to pool.
Ariel stood there, eyes burning with fury, her breath coming in sharp, quick bursts. Her magic crackled around her, responding to her emotions, to the violation of her personal space. She raised a hand to her mouth, wiping the back of her sleeve over her lips, smearing ash across her mouth as she rid herself of the disgusting feel of him.
"You're a slimeball, Malfoy," she spat, her voice filled with venom. "You've always been a slimeball. That hasn't changed."
Draco groaned, pulling himself up from the ground, his hand reaching back to touch the wound on his head. His fingers came away slick with blood, and his eyes darkened with rage. "You'll be sorry for this," he hissed, limping away, his body hunched from the pain.
Ariel turned her back on him, her gaze again drawn to Hogwarts's broken gates. "I bet," she muttered sarcastically. "But not as sorry as you'll be when you face trial."
Draco cursed under his breath, something incoherent but filled with malice. "Just you wait, Potter!" he shouted as he stumbled further away, leaving a trail of blood behind him. "You'll see. Just you wait!"
Ariel didn't respond. She didn't need to. His threats meant nothing to her anymore. He was nothing.
Ariel's breath hitched, her shoulders sagging under the weight of everything. Her wand slipped from her hand, clattering to the ground with a dull thud. She looked at it for a long moment before raising her eyes to the sky.
"I just want to go home," she whispered to no one, her voice breaking as she gazed at the broken gates. "I just want to go home."
She gingerly picked her fallen wand off the ground, giving it a good look. "Sorry…" she mumbled. Her fingers gripped the wand in her hand as if holding on to the last fragment of something real. Without thinking, she lifted it, pointing it directly at the ruined gates. It was an instinct, something deep within her, urging her to act. The air around her shifted, the pressure dropping suddenly, and her chest felt tight.
Ariel didn't know what compelled her to speak, but the words came out of her mouth without conscious thought.
"Gínete Olókliroi."
The words were foreign, yet they flowed from her lips as if they had been waiting to be spoken for centuries. There was no fancy flourish, no movement of her wand. Just the soft utterance of those strange words. Her voice echoed through the grounds, carried through the wind like a whisper. When the last syllable left her lips, a deafening boom exploded from her wand as if the earth had cracked open beneath her. The sound was so loud, so powerful, that it reverberated through the air, shaking the foundations of Hogwarts.
Ariel stumbled back, gasping in shock. Her heart raced, pounding in her ears as she stared down at her wand. What had she just done? The wood in her hand was trembling, vibrating with an energy she didn't understand. Thin cracks began to spiderweb up the wand's length, the once sturdy wood now smoking and sizzling under the weight of whatever magic she had just unleashed. Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at it, her mind scrambling to understand what had just happened.
"I... I didn't mean to..." she muttered, her voice shaky. Her hand shook as she lowered the wand, unable to tear her eyes away from the sight of it cracking and smoking. The ancient magic that pulsed within it seemed too much for the fragile wood to contain. What was that? What had she said?
The words replayed in her mind: Gínete Olókliroi. She didn't even know what they meant. Greek, maybe? Or was it Latin? Her head swam with confusion as she tried to piece together the fragments of what she had just done. It didn't make sense. None of it made sense.
Before she could dwell on it any longer, a strange sensation pulled her attention back to the gates. Slowly, she lifted her eyes, her breath catching in her throat.
The gates were moving.
At first, it was subtle – a faint shimmer, a ripple in the air as though the castle's magic had awakened. Then, before her very eyes, the twisted, jagged remains of the wrought iron began to shift and meld together, the metal bending and warping, as if being repaired by an unseen hand. The rusted hinges straightened, the bars reformed, and the once-shattered gate pieces began to knit back together. Ariel blinked, her mouth falling open as she watched in astonishment. The gates were repairing themselves. Slowly but surely, they were becoming whole again, the jagged edges smoothing out, the iron gleaming as though freshly forged. She could feel the air around her pulsing with magic, a kind of magic she had never felt before. It was ancient, raw, and untamed.
"What in the blazes…?" she whispered, her voice barely audible as she stared in disbelief. The spell – whatever it had been – was working.
But it wasn't just the gates.
Beyond them, the broken walls of Hogwarts began to shift. The rubble on the ground lifted, the stones hovering in mid-air briefly before flying back to their original places in the walls. Massive chunks of the castle that had been blown apart were being pulled together as if time itself was reversing. The towers that had crumbled during the battle rose into the sky again, their spires reaching higher than before, sharper and more defined.
She could feel the magic surging through the air, thick and powerful as an electric current that made the hairs on her arms stand on end. It was overwhelming, filling her senses with a dizzying rush of energy. She had never felt anything like it. This wasn't just a simple repair spell. This was something far greater, far older.
Her heart raced in her chest as she looked down at her wand again. The cracks were deepening, the smoke rising from it in small, wispy tendrils. The magic within the wand was too much – it was breaking under the strain. Panic flared in her chest. She had to stop this. She had to…
A sudden force rippled through the air, sending shockwaves across the grounds. Ariel staggered, her legs buckling as the sheer power of the spell rocked her to the core. She wasn't the only one affected. Draco, who had been limping away in a daze, collapsed to the ground a few meters away, his body crumpling like a rag doll as the shockwave hit him. Further in the distance, other students and staff picking through the ruins were knocked off their feet, sprawling in the dirt as the castle's magic surged through the air like a tidal wave.
Ariel barely managed to stay upright, bracing herself against the nearest pillar as the force of the spell ebbed and flowed around her. The wards. She could feel them. The wards that had protected Hogwarts for centuries were coming back to life, one by one, flaring with renewed strength. She could see their faint shimmer in the air, like a protective dome forming around the castle, stretching far beyond the walls and into the surrounding grounds.
The gates, the walls, the wards – everything was being restored. More than restored. It was being remade, stronger than before.
"What in Merlin's name...?" she muttered to herself, her voice barely a whisper as she watched the last remnants of the shattered gates fuse with a brilliant flash of light. They were whole again, gleaming in the sunlight, more perfect than she had ever seen them. "What did I just do?" she whispered, her voice trembling with awe and fear.
The students in the distance gasped in awe, their voices a mix of disbelief and excitement. Some of them shouted in amazement, while others stared in wonder. From where Ariel stood, she could see groups of people pointing up at the castle, their eyes wide, their jaws slack. None of them had lifted a wand, none had spoken a spell.
Her brow furrowed in confusion, and she swallowed hard. The Elder Wand. That had to be it. She had repaired her own wand using the Elder Wand. Could it be possible that her wand had somehow inherited the Elder Wand's power? Could it have become an Elder Wand itself? She shook her head, dismissing the thought as quickly as it had appeared. No, that didn't make sense. It couldn't possibly be that simple.
But then, what was happening?
Before she could dwell on it any longer, her focus shifted as she felt the wand in her hand begin to disintegrate. A chill crept down her spine as she watched, wide-eyed, as small pieces of the wood flaked away, turning to ash and scattering in the wind.
"No..." Ariel whispered under her breath, her heart sinking as the wand she had carried for so long – the wand that had been a part of her for years – crumbled into nothing. Her fingers twitched as the last remnants of it fell through her grasp, leaving her hand empty.
She stood there momentarily, staring at her hand in disbelief. What had just happened? She didn't know what she had cast or how it had worked, but this – this was beyond anything she had ever experienced. The whole thing felt unreal, like a dream she couldn't wake from. Maybe it was the culmination of everything. The battle, the loss, the exhaustion hung over her like a rain cloud. Perhaps it had all finally caught up to her.
This has to be the weirdest few weeks of my life, she thought bitterly, shaking her head. The events of the past few days had left her feeling numb. And now this. Just another day in the life of Ariel Potter.
Her feet felt heavy as she began walking toward the castle, the sound of her footsteps swallowed by the growing hum of chatter around her. She could hear the students and professors gathered on the grounds, their voices rising in astonishment as they looked around at the miraculous restoration of Hogwarts.
Ariel's eyes widened in awe as she approached the castle. She could hardly believe what she was seeing. It was like stepping into a dream or perhaps into a version of Hogwarts that existed in some alternate reality where it had never been touched by time or violence. The sight was almost overwhelming, and she slowed her pace, her heart thudding in her chest.
The bridge, which had been reduced to nothing more than rubble during the battle, was now standing strong, its stone arches gleaming in the sunlight. The grounds, which had been littered with debris and the aftermath of destruction, were cleared. The grass was green and lush, the trees standing tall and proud as though they had never been touched by war.
It was beautiful. Too beautiful.
Within seconds, the once-destroyed walls were standing tall again, their stones fitting together perfectly as if they had never been broken. The shattered towers reassembled themselves piece by piece, rising back into the sky with majestic grace. The rubble that had littered the grounds vanished, swept away as if by an unseen hand.
It was as though time itself had reversed. And all without anyone's input.
The other students were just as stunned, their voices buzzing with excitement and confusion. Groups had gathered near the entrance, and their heads craned upward as they took in the sight of the restored castle. Even the professors were there, standing in small clusters, their faces etched with disbelief.
Ariel could hear snippets of conversations as she drew closer.
"How did this happen?"
"Was it a spell?"
"Who could've done this?"
"It's a miracle!"
Ariel's eyes swept over the crowd, searching for familiar faces. Finally, her gaze landed on Professor McGonagall, who stood near the entrance, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd of students. Even she looked bewildered, her lips pressed into a thin line as she tried to maintain her composure.
McGonagall cleared her throat, drawing the attention of the crowd. "Everyone, please!" her voice rang out, firm and commanding, though her tone had an underlying tremor of uncertainty. "I understand that this... this occurrence is astonishing. But rest assured, we will get to the bottom of it."
The students murmured amongst themselves, their excitement palpable. Some were already forming theories, whispering about ancient magic and protective spells that had perhaps been dormant within the castle, only to be awakened in its time of need.
"We can only assume," McGonagall continued, her eyes sweeping over the gathered students and staff, "that this is the result of the castle's magic. Hogwarts has stood for over a thousand years, and it is clear that her protections are far more powerful than any of us could have imagined."
Without a word, Ariel turned on her heel and slipped through the crowd, moving quickly and quietly toward the edge of the grounds. Her heart raced as she weaved through the students, her mind swirling with confusion and fear. She needed space. She needed time to think.
But most of all, she needed to be alone.
With a final glance back at the castle – gleaming and new in the sunlight – Ariel stepped away, her footsteps carrying her further from the crowd, further from the questions, and further from the truth she wasn't ready to share.
Because deep down, she knew. The castle hadn't done anything.
It had been her.
~ ~ break ~ ~
Ariel's heart pounded as she walked beyond the line of the newly restored wards, leaving behind the pristine walls of Hogwarts. The chatter and excitement of the crowd faded into the background as she crossed the boundary, her mind swirling with thoughts she couldn't escape. She closed her eyes tightly, her grip tightening on what remained of her wand. Taking a deep breath, she focused on one singular destination: home. Not the broken remnants of her childhood, but the one place she could still find peace.
With a sudden pull, her body twisted sharply. The sensation of Apparition never ceased to be disorienting. Her body felt as if it were being forced through a tight, invisible tube that twisted and shrank around her. The pressure built with every moment, the world around her spinning faster until it reached a breaking point. Then, with a loud CRACK like a gunshot, she reappeared on solid ground, gasping for breath.
A familiar, quiet street greeted her, the peaceful suburban neighbourhood of Surrey. Number 13, Privet Drive. But not her aunt and uncle's house, not the place of her past trauma and pain. This was her sanctuary – her fiancé Peter Jackson's home.
Her legs felt weak as she walked up the short garden path to the front door. Her heart ached with every step. She lifted her hand, rapping her knuckles rapidly against the door, almost desperately. Her breath was shallow, coming in quick, unsteady bursts as she tried to calm herself. Everything from the past few weeks – the battle, the death, the horror – it was all catching up to her, crashing over her like a tidal wave.
The sound of footsteps shuffling inside made her stomach twist. She could feel her chest tightening as she waited, each second dragging on like an eternity. Her heart felt too heavy, her throat too tight to speak. When the door finally opened, she nearly collapsed with relief.
Peter stood in the doorway, his ocean-green eyes bright with surprise as they landed on her. His dark black hair, tied back into a small, messy knot, contrasted with the vibrant Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts he wore. He always had a way of making her smile, with his carefree, almost ridiculous wardrobe choices. But not today. Today, all she could feel was the overwhelming urge to crumble.
"Yo!" he greeted her with a wide, warm smile, but his expression quickly shifted when he noticed her ashen face, the soot and dirt smeared across her skin, the dishevelled mess of her hair, and the torn, battle-worn clothes clinging to her body. His brow furrowed with concern, and without hesitation, he stepped forward, pulling her into a tight, comforting hug.
Ariel's body shook as she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his chest. She could smell the faint scent of his sea-scented cologne mixed with the comforting familiarity of his presence. But that wasn't enough to hold back the emotions building inside her.
"Ellie," he murmured, using the nickname he'd affectionately given her, his voice soft and filled with concern. "What's wrong?"
She couldn't hold it in any longer. A sob tore from her throat, and the dam broke. She began to cry, deep and uncontrollable sobs that wracked her entire body. Her tears soaked into his shirt as her fingers clung to him like he was the only thing keeping her from falling apart completely.
Peter's arms tightened around her, one hand gently stroking her hair as he whispered softly into her ear. "Hey, hey... it's okay. It's okay. I'm here."
But it wasn't okay. It would never be okay.
He pulled her inside, closing the door behind them with a quiet click. Ariel's knees buckled as soon as they crossed the door, and Peter guided her gently to the couch, sitting beside her and pulling her into his lap. He held her tightly, cradling her as if she were made of glass, rocking her slightly in a soothing rhythm. His warmth enveloped her, but the hole in her chest remained.
"Ellie," he whispered again, his voice full of worry. "What happened?"
She tried to find the words, but all that came out were broken sobs. She felt weak, like the weight of everything was suffocating her, pressing down until she couldn't breathe.
"Why did it have to be me?" she finally whispered, her voice barely audible between the tears. "Why did I have to be the one?"
Peter didn't say anything. He just held her, his arms never loosening their grip. He didn't know the specifics. She never told him that she was a witch, or that she had just fought in the bloodiest battle the wizarding world had ever seen. He didn't know about the deaths, the pain, the magic. But he knew her, and that was enough. He could sense the depth of her pain, even if he didn't understand the details.
Ariel lifted her tear-streaked face to look up at him, her green eyes shining with the anguish that had been building for weeks. "I didn't ask for this," she said, her voice cracking with emotion. "I didn't want to be a part of any of it. But now… now I can't escape it. Everything I touch… it just falls apart."
He frowned, brushing a strand of hair out of her face with a gentle touch. "Hey, don't talk like that. You didn't do anything wrong."
She let out a shaky breath, trying to steady herself, but the memories were too much. The faces of the people she had seen die flashed before her eyes. The destruction of the castle, the chaos of the battle, her death at Voldemort's hands and the strange resurrection that followed – everything weighed heavily on her. They all expected her to be this emotionless hero – but she wasn't. All she wanted to be – all she was – was an ordinary girl with too much on her shoulders. With too many expectations.
"I don't even know where to start," she whispered, her voice hoarse from crying. "So much has happened. So much death... so much destruction. I didn't know feeling this… this broken was possible." Peter's arms tightened around her. Ariel sniffed, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. She couldn't tell him the whole truth. She had kept him in the dark, protecting him from that part of her life. But now, with everything that had happened, she needed to talk to someone, even if it was just a half-truth.
"I was involved in something," she said slowly, carefully choosing her words. "Something dangerous. And people… people died because of it."
Peter's eyes widened slightly, but he let her speak quietly.
"There was this… group," she continued, her voice shaking. "And they were trying to… hurt many people. Innocent people. We fought back, but... so many of us didn't make it. I saw them die, Peter. I saw them–" her voice cracked again, and more tears welled up in her eyes.
Peter's hand stroked her back gently, his brow furrowed with concern. "Ellie… I'm so sorry. I can't imagine what that must have been like for you."
She shook her head, the weight of the guilt and the trauma pressing down on her like a lead blanket. "I didn't want to be a part of it, but I was. And now… it's like I can't escape it. Even when it's over, it's not over." Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, clinging to him as if he were her lifeline.
Peter was quiet for a moment, his face thoughtful. Then he kissed her forehead, his voice soft but firm. "You did what you had to do, Ellie. You're a good person. I don't know what happened – but I know you. And I know you didn't do anything wrong."
Ariel closed her eyes, leaning into him, trying to let his words sink in. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that gnawed at her insides.
"It's just… so much," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I don't know how to move forward."
~ ~ break ~ ~
Peter's expression shifted as Ariel recounted the horrors she had faced. Each word that fell from her lips seemed to deepen the darkness in his eyes, his jaw tightening as the story unfolded. The warmth and light that usually radiated from him were replaced by something darker.
Who dared to harm her? Who dared to lay a hand on the woman who was to become his wife? His fiancée. His love.
And not just any woman – she was his future wife. The future wife of Poseidon, the god of the sea, the master of oceans, and the breaker of worlds. His fingers curled into fists at the thought. If he had even a semblance of his true power in this mortal form, he would unleash hell upon anyone who had hurt her. He would bring oceans to their shores and crush them under the weight of his fury. Mortals – they were nothing to him. Breakable, easily broken. If she pointed a finger, he would bring devastation wherever she commanded. Mortals, he growled inwardly. He wanted to tear apart whoever had harmed Ariel, to make them pay for every tear she shed.
But he couldn't – at least not now, not like this.
Peter took a slow, deliberate breath, forcing himself to remain calm. Ariel didn't need his anger right now. She needed comfort and peace. His fists unclenched, and the swirling storm inside him settled, though the rage was still there, simmering just below the surface, waiting to be unleashed.
He pressed his lips gently to her forehead, letting his anger fall away as he whispered in Ancient Greek – a soothing melody he had learned long ago. The words flowed from him like a gentle wave, soothing, meant to lull her into sleep.
"Sleep, my love. In the embrace of the waves, find peace. Let the winds whisper to you, and the stars keep you safe. The sea is with you, always."
His voice was soft and melodic, and as the words left his lips, Ariel's body seemed to relax in his arms. Her breathing slowed, the tension in her shoulders easing. Her eyes drooped, heavy with exhaustion, until finally, they fluttered shut.
He cradled her gently into his arms with the utmost care. She didn't stir, her breath steady and peaceful now. Peter carried her up the narrow staircase to his bedroom with slow, quiet steps. He gently laid Ariel down on the bed, pulling the covers over her, making sure she was warm and comfortable. She mumbled something incoherent in her sleep, but her brow was no longer furrowed in pain or fear.
Peter stood over her for a moment, his heart filled with love and protectiveness. How could anyone harm her? How could anyone even think of hurting the woman who was everything to him? His jaw tightened again as the anger resurfaced. Whoever had hurt her would pay. He didn't care how long it took.
He reached down, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his fingers gentle. Then he turned away, stepping toward the window – looking outside into the sky. "Father," he whispered, his voice barely audible,
For a moment, there was silence. Then, he felt it, a presence entering his mind. A familiar, powerful presence.
"Poseidon?" came the reply. It was Zeus – his elder brother – but more than that, the one who considered his father. The one who raised him for the first 3500 years of his life.
Peter – Poseidon – closed his eyes, allowing himself to connect with Zeus. "Ariel was harmed," he whispered, his voice tight with his anger.
There was a sudden crack of thunder overhead, the sky darkening with the force of Zeus' displeasure. The distant rumble grew louder, echoing across the sky. The temperature seemed to drop as frost began to spread across the window.
"Someone hurt her," Poseidon continued, his voice shaking with fury that he had kept hidden for far too long. His hands clenched at his sides as he stared into the darkening sky. The air felt charged with electricity as thunder boomed, this time closer – the sound so loud it rattled the windows. Lightning flashed – a nearby thunderbolt, and the house shook with its force. The wind started to howl outside, swirling through the trees, shaking their foundations.
And it stilled.
Then, there was a soft knock at the door.
Zeus was here.
And with him, the fury of Olympus.
~ ~ break ~ ~
Ariel woke slowly, blinking groggily as her eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering through the curtains. For a moment, she lay still, the heavy blankets cocooning her in warmth. It was the first good sleep she'd had in days, possibly even weeks. She could breathe again, at least for a little while.
With a quiet sigh, Ariel sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, her bare feet touching the cool hardwood floor. Her clothes were still the same ones she had worn when she'd stumbled in here – dusty, torn, and smelling of ash and battle. Her auburn hair was still tangled and matted with grime, and her face was smeared with the remnants of ash and dust. She couldn't remember the last time she had looked in a mirror and recognized the person staring back at her.
She shook her head and went to the adjoining bathroom, shutting the door behind her. Her fingers trembled slightly as she took off the torn clothes, the fabric sticking to her skin from dried sweat and grime. She caught her reflection in the bathroom mirror, and the sight made her stomach turn. Bruises and cuts marred her skin – half-healed skin and more. She frowned, tracing a finger over one of the deeper cuts on her arm, wincing at the sting. How had she survived all this?
The shower beckoned to her, and she stepped inside, turning the faucet on without hesitation. Hot water cascaded over her, washing away the grime, the sweat, and the ash. She closed her eyes, letting the warmth seep into her skin, relaxing her muscles. She stood there for several minutes, allowing the water to cleanse her, to make her feel human again.
Eventually, she turned the water off, blinking against the steam fogging the mirror. Water dripped from her hair and body as she reached for the towel, but her hand paused mid-reach. Hanging neatly on the towel rack was a fresh dress. She frowned, her brow furrowing in confusion. Had that been there when she entered? She hadn't noticed it before. She hadn't brought any clothes with her, had she?
She hesitated for a moment but then shrugged. She was too tired to question it. She dried herself off and slipped into the dress, the fabric soft against her skin. It was comfortable, fitting her perfectly, almost like it had been made just for her.
Ariel brushed her damp hair out of her face and made her way downstairs, her footsteps light as she descended. The scent of fresh coffee wafted through the air, and she smiled to herself. Peter always knew what she needed, even when she didn't say it out loud.
When she got down, she smiled – Zeke, Peter's father, was sitting on the couch, his hands clasped in front of his face, elbows resting on his knees. His sharp blue eyes followed her as she entered the room, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He was dressed as usual, in a crisp suit, his black hair slicked back in a way that made him look like a mob boss. Peter used to jokingly say that Zeke 'was the government,' and sometimes Ariel couldn't help but think he was telling the truth.
Peter was sitting on the floor next to the couch, leaning against it with his legs crossed. He glanced up as she entered the room, his face lighting up in that familiar way that always made her heart skip a beat.
"Hey," Peter said, standing up as she approached. "You look better." His ocean-green eyes swept over her, filled with relief.
"Morning," Ariel said with a small smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. She turned to Zeke, her smile growing a bit wider. "Dad," she greeted warmly. He had asked her to call him dad after Peter had proposed, insisting that she was now a part of the family. It had taken some getting used to, but how he said it made her feel like she was indeed among her own.
Zeke looked up at her and smiled, his sharp features softening slightly as his gaze met hers. "How are you feeling?"
"Better," she admitted, moving closer. "Still a bit tired, but much better."
"Good," Zeke said, extending his arm to her, gesturing for her to sit beside him. "Come, sit with me for a moment."
Ariel plopped herself down next to him on the couch. Zeke's arm wrapped around her shoulder in a fatherly gesture, pulling her closer. "Tell me what happened," he said, his voice soft and commanding. His piercing blue eyes locked onto hers, and Ariel suddenly felt the world around her shift. His eyes seemed to draw her in, pulling her deeper and deeper until her thoughts felt muddled, and her vision began to blur. It was as if her body and mind were no longer fully under her control.
Without meaning to, Ariel began to speak. The words tumbled from her lips, unbidden and unstoppable. She told him everything – about the battle, the Horcruxes, her death, and resurrection. She told him things she had never shared with anyone, not even Peter.
Peter's sharp gasp snapped her out of her trance-like state. She blinked rapidly, her vision clearing as her heart raced. She looked around, suddenly aware that she had been talking – too much, far too much.
"What was I saying?" she asked, her voice shaky. A deep unease settled in her gut as she tried to recall what she had just revealed. Did she tell Zeke about… magic? About everything? But that was impossible. She couldn't have.
Before she could dwell on it further, the shrill ring of a phone cut through the air, breaking the tension in the room.
Zeke's gaze flickered to the phone, his eyes narrowing slightly. With a casual wave of his hand, there was a sudden, audible snap, and Ariel blinked, feeling the strange haze return for just a second. When it cleared, she found herself smiling at Zeke, all thoughts of her strange outburst forgotten.
"Thanks for the chat, Dad," she said, feeling oddly lighthearted.
Zeke smiled warmly at her, reaching out to ruffle her hair affectionately. "Of course, my dear," he said, his voice calm and soothing. "It's always good to talk."
He stood up slowly, his expression shifting. "I have some business to attend to," he said, straightening his jacket. His tone was casual, but it held an edge, making Peter look at him sharply. "I'll see you later, Ariel. Be safe."
Ariel nodded, smiling back at him. "See you later."
As he turned to the door, leaving the house, his eyes flared with anger.
Tom Marvolo Riddle.
~ ~ Break ~ ~
The door to Poseidon's house clicked shut behind Zeus as he stepped out into the cool night air. The moment his hand left the doorknob, his expression hardened, and the warm, fatherly facade he had worn for Ariel vanished. With a sudden crack, he rematerialized high above New York City, far above the towering heights of the Empire State Building – far above Olympus itself.
His eyes narrowed, and with a thunderous crash – he slammed into his throne, the force sending a ripple through the air. His hands gripped the armrests tightly, the veins in his forearms bulging as the skies above Olympus darkened. Zeus's voice boomed, HADES!" he roared – his voice reverberating throughout Olympus.
A dark mass began to ooze from the ground, twisting and writhing as it took shape. Shadows coalesced, forming a figure draped in black robes. Hades, Lord of the Underworld, materialized on his own throne, his gaunt, pale face twisted into a sneer.
Hades' voice was calm as he raised a brow. "You called, brother?"
Zeus glared at him, his eyes flashing with rage. "Bring me the soul of Tom Marvolo Riddle," he commanded.
Hades raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a sneer. "Riddle? That abhorrent mortal who dared to split his soul to cheat death?" he asked, his tone filled with disdain. "A wretched creature, if ever there was one."
Zeus nodded once, his expression unchanged. "The very same."
With a casual snap of his fingers, Hades summoned a soul from the depths of his realm. The air began to shimmer from the shadows at his feet, and slowly, a ghostly figure took shape. The soul was pale and wispy, barely recognizable as human. The hollow-eyed spectre drifted forward. The once-powerful Tom Riddle, known as Voldemort, now appeared as nothing more than a shadow of his former self.
Hades leaned forward, his cold, calculating gaze fixed on the wretched soul. "State your name for the King," he commanded.
The ghostly figure looked up, his eyes hollow and devoid of the arrogance they once held. His voice, weak and broken, whispered into the air. "Tom Marvolo Riddle, my lord," he said, barely audible.
Zeus's face twisted with disgust. "For crimes against my daughter," Zeus bellowed, his voice shaking the chamber. "I sentence you to eternity in Tartarus."
Hades's eyes widened in surprise, and he stood quickly, his dark robes rustling with the movement. "Wait, brother – a mortal soul in Tartarus?" he protested, his tone filled with disbelief. "This mortal attempted to defy death, yes, but Tartarus is a punishment reserved for gods and titans! You cannot send a mere mortal—"
But Zeus's fury was not something to be questioned. His eyes flashed dangerously, and without a word, he stomped his foot against the floor. The ground beneath them split open, revealing a gaping chasm – and from within the darkness, black chains, forged from the essence of chaos itself, shot out of the abyss. The chains wrapped themselves around Riddle, binding him in their grasp.
The spectre of Tom Riddle let out a scream – a high-pitched, terrified wail – as the chains tightened, pulling him towards the chasm. His ghostly body warped, trying desperately to escape, but there was no escape from the power of Chaos itself.
Hades took a step forward, his face pale as he watched the scene unfold. The chains—those cursed chains – were reserved for only the most powerful of beings. He had seen them used before, on their father Kronos, and Primordials like Erebus. Even Hera, during her rebellion, had been subjected to their torment for a mere nine days and nine nights, and it had left her scarred to this day. This mortal – this insignificant soul – was not on the same level – he did not deserve such a fate. "Brother," Hades began, his voice shaking, "even for one like him, this is too harsh. Tartarus was already beyond reason – but these chains? A Primordial-level punishment? This mortal does not fit that classification!"
Zeus turned his burning gaze on Hades, his eyes crackling with lightning. The sheer force of his presence made Hades falter, his mouth closing as he recoiled under the weight of his brother's power. For all his darkness, for all his dominion over the dead, Hades knew he was no match for the King of the Gods.
"Silence!" Zeus snapped, his voice shaking the heavens once more. His gaze turned to Hades, and the god of the Underworld cowered, his dark eyes wide with fear. Zeus's power was overwhelming, its force pressing down on Hades like the weight of a thousand worlds. "You will not question me on this, boy."
Hades lowered his eyes, casting his gaze downward in submission. His hands trembled at his sides, his mind racing as he processed the sheer amount of power Zeus unleashed. He was the older brother, but Zeus was the strongest among them. He had always been the strongest – Zeus was the only one able to challenge Kronos in his prime, the only one strong enough to have matched him blow for blow. Hades dared not defy him, not like this. Not when Zeus was in such a state of fury.
"Erasing his soul would have been a grace for him. But for harming Ariel – Poseidon's future wife – my honorary daughter – I will not grant him that mercy." The last of Riddle's desperate cries echoed in the air for a moment before the chasm sealed shut, the heavy, final thud of the earth closing over him.
"To subject a mortal to a Primordial punishment…" he muttered, barely loud enough for Zeus to hear. "I never thought I'd see the day."
Zeus stood from his throne, his body towering above Hades. "Riddle's soul is no longer your concern," he said coldly. "The matter is finished."
.
.
.
A/N: There are some changes I have made by taking creative liberty for this story
1. Amphitrite is a normal nereid (daughter of Nereus) and is not married to Poseidon.
2. All children of Poseidon have been removed/edited out for the scope of this story where it concerns mythos. Meaning:
- Pegasus: No longer the son of Poseidon and Medusa, instead he has been converted into a winged horse Poseidon made).
- Almost every other child has been removed and will not be counted. Important ones like cyclopes' will be considered creatures Poseidon made from the essence of dying nature spirits (he will be given the domain 'Father of Cyclopes'). His other 'children', bar Percy, will be produced through his power – and not biologically or emotionally produced.
- So, Poseidon really has one true son, born naturally, and that's Percy.
- TL;DR: Percy will be the Natural-born child of Poseidon (Poseidon does not get around at all). Therefore, the other children are basically blessings, and Percy is inherently more powerful than any of the current half-bloods. The other children of Poseidon are known as "Essence-Born of Poseidon".
3. Poseidon was not included in the oath between the big 3 as he's never had any child. Thus, it was seen as useless to include him.
4. When Kronos puked out the siblings, Poseidon came out as a baby, while the others came out as adults. Zeus, being the only mature sibling (who grew up outside) was left to take care of baby Poseidon (alone).
5. Poseidon and Zeus are the closest of the siblings.
6. Zeus, in this version, raised Poseidon for 3543 years, the amount of time Poseidon spent as a baby. The reason Poseidon spent this long as a baby was because Pontus stated that as the power transfer would be an ongoing process, Poseidon would remain a baby. And he did, for three millennia. After the power transfer was finished, he finally started to age over the span of 200 years – into adulthood (3543), where Zeus helped him control and use his powers (Poseidon views Zeus as his father).
7. Ariel Potter is the daughter of Lily and James Potter, and twin sister of the deceased Harry Potter (still born).
8. Ariel met Poseidon in the summer after her 5th year at Hogwarts. In this story, she had a falling out with the Weasley clan at the end of her 4th year. Cedric replaced by George, tri-wizard tournament 16+.
9. Every event which took place in the Harry Potter series has been moved back by 7 years (includes the birth of ALL HP characters). (e.g., Ariel will be born July 31st, 1973 (being 19 when she gives birth to Percy – but 18 when he is conceived…. Battle of Hogwarts instead of May 2nd, 1998, is now September 2nd, 1991. Ariel being 18 when Voldemort was finally defeated. Percy is now born on August 18, 1992.
10. Mortal Poseidon is known as Peter Jackson
11. Both Hades and Hestia are apart of the Council, Dionysus is not.
12. Heracles will go by Hercules and will replace Dionysus as Camp Half-Blood's director. His personality and appearance are just like how is portrayed in Disney's Hercules.
13. Annabeth's birthday will be changed by a period of 6 years. It will now be July 12, 1999.
14. Zeus blatantly favours Poseidon over all his children and siblings. Gave Poseidon the title, 'Heir of Olympus'.
Note: While Poseidon will be apart of the 'Big 3', most of the council don't consider him to be one of the elders - even though he is technically one of the eldest. As such, many of the younger members have no respect for him - and consider him to be an experienced/weaker member - even though he would easily destroy them in a 1v10 combat.