Welcome, one and all, to the fluff beyond the pain, and dear gods, are we going get fluffy in these coming chapters of The Philosophy of Fear.
But first, let's check out what's happening with Delphini.
On with the show.
Delphini, Grimmauld Place, August 3rd.
Delphini swallowed thickly in the uncomfortably stuffy room where she found herself, which was saying something, seeing that she was currently sitting in the Black Family Library. The lanterns that illuminated the room gave off an almost oppressive heat in the middle of the summer, why the library was built in the middle of the house where no windows could sit, she had no clue. The sweat trailing down her neck was annoying as her face flushed red from both the uncomfortable heat and an even more uncomfortable but welcomed sight from across from her. Her blue eyes kept flicking back and forth between the book she was reading and the glorious sight across from her.
The book was more a grimoire, hand-scribed and held together with thick leather straps. The cover of it looked and felt to be carved from stone that weighed heavily on the animal hide that was used as paper for the book. Delphini had no idea where Brigid had found it, but the secrets held within were fascinating. Scrawled across the page in near gibberish to anyone but Brigid and her champion were descriptions and notes about forgotten magic the world over. Secrets that any mage worth their salt would be salivating over just to get a peak at, and here Delphini was sitting on a comfy armchair with the secrets laid before her.
Only to have her attention pulled from the book at what felt like every few seconds.
Brigid was an oddity to Delphini; she felt unfathomably powerful but also broken at the same time as if there were three of her in one body. One moment, she is this rough-speaking hooligan of a party girl; the next, she speaks with an odd infraction with her words and draws them out slowly as she speaks of the inner workings of divine magic. One moment, she would be showing her rune formulas that haven't seen the light of day since the fall of the Roman empire; the next, she would be telling Delphini a random story from her travels, and the next, Delphini swore up, and down that, Brigid was flirting with her. She would show up at Grimmauld Place at odd times to drag Delphini into training and show her new mysteries of magic, be it two in the afternoon or two in the morning; time seemed irrelevant to her.
But no matter how odd Brigid was to Delphini, the young witch couldn't deny one thing about the goddess. She was very easy on the eyes.
From her dark red hair and pale skin to the curves of her body, to the frankly illegal-looking pants she wore from time to time. Delphini could not deny that the package that the overwhelming power came from was something she could admire.
The only off-putting thing about Brigid was her eyes. Those fathomless black depths set inside the whites of her eyes threatened to drag Delphini down into their endless currents like a riptide every time she looked into them. Brigid, somehow, picked up on this little fact, and somehow, she had hidden those unforgiving black eyes in exchange for bright green emerald ones. Ones that, every time Delphini looked into them, set her heart racing and painful want to leak into her thoughts. But she forced her face to remain stoic in the cascading wants and desires that played with her heart and mind, but that was getting so very hard to do in the face of her current distraction.
Brigid was wearing a skirt.
While something that Delphini could handle on any normal day, in an unbearable stuffy and hot room as Brigid flaunts the fact she was wearing one, was another thing entirely. The goddess of protection wandered back and forth in the Black Library as Delphini was trying to get her reading done, finding interesting books or nicknacks on the lower shelves to bend over to inspect. And not even a polite squat either, no- Brigid would bend over at her waist to pick something up; be it a book or object. As if she was as innocent as can be with her skirt so sinfully short. Short enough to pull up as she bent over to reveal the creamy paleness of her thighs that her black and silver thigh-high socks hide, but long enough just to make the show nothing more than a fucking tease.
Delphini nearly sighed in aggravation as her eyes turned back to the esoteric text in front of her; it was describing a simple ritual for protection against, quote, "Wroth and Fear," and all forms it could take. In Delphini's honest opinion, it sounded something like the Patronus Charm, but instead of wand movements, it was born from a ritual. The casting would take longer but it should have the same amount of power behind it. Most rituals were like that, sacrificing quicker casting for a bit more power that could be born from up to multiple people.
"But why do the participants need to drink from the same bottle?" Delphini whispers to herself as her eyes dart across the page trying to unravel that bit of information.
"Because it invokes a sense of community, a symbolic gesture, sharing a drink with another can be seen as a sign of community or peaceful talks; unless your Cao Cao. Then you're just being a dick," Brigid answers with a smirk as she turns to look at Delphini, amusement dancing in her eyes as she speaks.
"Who's Cow Cow?" Delphini asks, momentarily distracted by how the skirt on Brigid fans out as she turns. Brigid smiled, one that was bordering on dark amusement.
"No one. Just a muggle warlord from the Far East," Brigid supplied as she walked forward toward the armchair that Delphini occupied. Delphini barely paid Brigid's words any attention as she watched the goddess's hips move back and forth, the hem of her skirt flicking outward with each step. "You seem a bit distracted today, something up?" The goddess asks as she stops in front of Delphini, looking down at the girl before crossing her arms over her chest.
"No!" Delphini says quickly- maybe a bit too quickly as a small smirk appears on Brigid's face. "I mean-" Delphini coughs into her hand. "-no, no I'm fine. Why do you ask?" She asks from the goddess in front of her, giving Brigid her best smile. But the emerald eyes of Brigid twinkle with not only amusement but also as if she knew exactly what was wrong with her champion.
"Really? Are you sure?" Brigid asks, her grin growing ever wider and far more playful. "You seem to be a bit…distracted today. Do tell, what is wrong with my little champion?" She says with her voice light and playful but there was something hungry in her voice that caused Delphini to shiver a bit, even in the heat. Delphini quickly looks away from Brigid as she pushes herself back into her seat Brigid leans down and closer to Delphini. Brigid was teasing her, and she couldn't exactly say she didn't like it; the goddess words were like silk strands tied in knots around Delphini's throat, pulling her in a while and leaving her breathless at the same time.
Delphini's face flushed and her heart raced as Brigid leaned in closer, their noses almost touching. The scent of Brigid's floral perfume filled Delphini's senses. With a coy smile, Brigid perched on the edge of Delphini's seat, practically straddling her lap. Delphini's grip tightened on the ancient tome in her hands as she tried to maintain composure.
"Well, little champion? Cait-Sith got ya tongue?" Brigid purred, her grin revealing sharp teeth. Delphini responded with a forced smile, but internally she was panicking as Brigid closed the gap between them and pressed her lips against Delphini's.
Harry Potter, Melinoë's Cave, July 27th, 1996.
Harry leans against the bed he had woken up on not three days ago while sitting on the surprisingly comfortable rug on the floor. He was turning the Thumb Ring he had received from his teacher last Christmas in between his forefinger and thumb, the tragedy of Connla replaying in his mind as it was narrated by Cait-Sith last year. The story had been stuck in his head as of late. Harry was sure it was spurred on by what he had faced in his dreams, but there was something in it that wouldn't get out of his head.
Aífe had tried to forge her son into the perfect weapon, one that could kill the greatest of the Celtic Demigods. She had tried this through fear and pain, breaking Connla until nothing was left but her broken weapon.
Connla was forged into that weapon if an imperfect one. One that had lacked the resolve to see his fight through to the end and kill Cú Chulainn. If Aífe hadn't held onto all her spite and jealousy if she would have just let go of it all and raised Connla as her son with all the love she could muster while telling the boy how he came to be to fan the flames of his hatred for his father. Would Connla have turned out differently, or would the story end the same?
Harry lets the ring fall from his hand to hang on the silver chain around his neck and leans his head back on the bed with a sigh, hoping Melinoë would return soon.
The last three days he had spent with the Princess of Ghost had been nothing short of…amazing. Sure, the sex was great and all but it was more than just that; they would lay under the covers with their limbs tangled up in one another and talk late into the night. Harry told her about his time at the Dursleys, his adventures at Hogwarts, his interactions with the Celtic Gods, his friends and family, his many hunts, and even his classes at school. Not once did Melinoë act disinterested or bored with his stories and his life; she would laugh and cry at them, and she would ask questions, and share little bits of advice for those situations. It was as if Melinoë wanted to know everything about him, from his favorite color(silver) and his favorite flower(Moon lilies) to his favorite teacher, his hopes and dreams for the future.
Melinoë would give him the answer to any question he asked and to all the questions she asked him herself. She had told Harry of her life, of the haze of confusion that it was mostly spent in as she figured out just what her role in the world was.
"Each god or goddess has a role they must play in the world, to act for the betterment of the mortals who worship us," Melinoë had explained as her head was resting on his bare chest. "It wasn't until the late 1800s that I learned mine. Before that, I was…wild, uncontrollable; I spread fear and terror and nightmares without hesitation or remorse, hurting so many mortals in the process," she told him before sighing deeply. Her role was one of a healer; she was the fear that everyone must face and overcome to become better than they are, to move past their trauma, and to embrace a better tomorrow. It was the reason Melinoë was drawn to mortals like him, to help them, to heal them, and to have them face their nightmares so they could banish them once and for all.
Melinoë fed on the fear and emotions that a mortal feels while facing their trauma; it was why her normal haunts were graveyards and therapist offices, to both help the mortals and feed herself. But some mortals need a more direct hand, like him. So wrapped up in their trauma and grief that she had to step in herself to free them, like how she had done with him.
Melinoë had explained her life before it as well and all the shame that she felt for it. How she would Hunt down mortals and torment them with nightmares and ghosts to feed herself, she would binge on those emotions like an addict. Melinoë would get so out of hand that her mother and father would have to restrain her and lock her away in the cave they were in. Her banishment would last centuries at a time just so she could get a hold of herself, but it was hearing how she was locked away that had angered Harry. Melinoë had to talk him down from doing something reckless and stupid like trying to confront her father over his treatment of her.
"It isn't like what happened to you, Harry," Melinoë told him in a calming tone, a hand on his chest as she leaned against him. "Think of it as they grounded me to my room, centuries to something like me is like a month to you. That's all, and my cave isn't like the cupboard that you were forced into," her words were like a balm to the rage he felt for her, smothering the fire in his veins with a simple gesture and a few words.
And she was right, her cave wasn't like his cupboard.
Beyond the first room that held one of the few ways that one can escape the underworld that she guarded with zeal. The further reaches of the cave were set up more like a five-star hotel that a teenager lived in and held everything anyone would need or want. A large, untidy bedroom lit with soft lights with a mirrored ceiling with a large walk-in closet bursting with clothes. A large kitchen, though she refused to cook anything for Harry and told him that he wasn't allowed to cook in it either because "he was her guest" but it didn't feel like the truth when she told him. A Greek-style bath that they both had used to great pleasure and an arcade and a small theater sitting in another part of her cave. They had spent long hours playing games and watching movies together as they cuddled in the same seat.
"Harry! I'm back!" The voice of Melinoë calls out, snapping Harry from his reminiscing as a smile grows on his face. The Princess of Ghosts walks into her room with a similar smile on her face while holding a large flat box and a plastic bag weighed down by drinks. "Hope you like Pizza, because I went to New York to get this pie," she tells him while she wiggles her eyebrows.
"Yeah, that's brilliant," Harry says before reaching out for the box, thanking Melinoë as he does. Melinoë takes a seat next to him as he opens the pizza box and grabs a slice.
"You okay?" She asks softly, pushing her shoulder into his, causing Harry to pause as he is about to take a bite of his pizza.
Harry lets out a small sigh as he lowers his slice. "Yeah, I was just thinking- reminiscing really," he admits to her.
"Harry Potter? Thinking? Will miracles never cease," Melinoë teases him with a grin, causing Harry to smile.
"I know, right?" He says turning to Melinoë, his smile never faltering. "Next I'll start studying and planning things out, yeah?" He tells her, causing Melinoë to faux gasp at him as she places her hand over her heart and looks at him aghast.
"My instinct-driven half-feral hunter actually using his brain for once!?" Melinoë says, sounding scandalized by the very mention of the notion. "Blasphemy! I won't hear another word of it; I'd sooner wear pink," she says jokingly before flicking her hair backward, hitting Harry in the face with it, and turning away to hide her smile.
"Your?" Harry asks Melinoë with a wide grin, causing the goddess to turn back to him, her pale cheeks flushed red with a blush.
"Oh- shut up you and eat your stupid pizza," she says before shoving him a bit, causing Harry to chuckle before he continues to eat. Melinoë lays her head on his shoulder and wraps her arms around his. "But really, what were you thinking about?" She asks softly.
"Nothing really, just a past I can't remember," Harry answers as he finishes his first slice before laying his head on hers and grabbing a second slice.
"Then it's best left forgotten; most things in the past are," Melinoë whispers softly to him, though Harry doesn't agree with her words. Some things can never be forgotten, no matter how hard one tries; the past always found a way to rear its ugly head. But Harry keeps his thoughts to himself as he eats his second slice and picks up a third.
"You want a slice?" Harry asks, offering the third slice of the pizza to Melinoë. Her eyes crack open to look at the pizza to Harry before a smirk crawls across her lips.
"Hmmm," She hums as she inspects the pizza and turns fully to Harry as she lets go of his arm. "Not the right type of pie I want right now," she tells Harry with a hungry look in her eyes.
"What type of pie do you want?" Harry asks, his brow raised in confusion, but all Melinoë does is chuckle.
"Gods, you're so dense it's adorable," Melinoë tells him before leaning in to kiss him; Harry could feel her hunger in the kiss, and he knew exactly what she wanted. He wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her into his lap as he deepens the kiss; Melinoë immediately adjusts herself to straddle his lap as her arms wrap around his neck. She breaks the kiss to give her mortal a moment to breathe. "Remind me after this to give you a little talk about roles and kinks, okay?" She whispers into his ear before she begins to attack his neck with kisses and bites. Harry could feel her smile grow on his neck as he let out a hiss of pain and a low growl before looping his arms around her waist. Harry quickly stands only to slam Melinoë onto the bed and begins to kiss her again.
But as Harry's hand moved up to her skirt to tear whatever was in his way off of Melinoë, there was a knock.
Knock!
Knock!
Knock!
Harry and Melinoë break apart, both their faces awash with confusion as they look toward the entrance to the bedroom.
"Do you even have a door?" Harry asks, turning back to Melinoë with a raised brow.
"No, that would defeat the purpose of the cave," she answers back softly before pushing Harry off of her before standing. "Whoever it is, I'm definitely cursing the cock block," she mutters angrily before she starts to shove Harry into her closet. "Here, hide. I'd rather not explain to either my mom or dad why you're here," she whispers before kissing him on the lips quickly and closing the door to her closet.
"Would this even work?" Harry hisses out the question as he hears Melinoë leave the bedroom. With no answer, Harry sank deeper into the closet as he listened intently to what was happening in the other room.
"Um, hello?" Melinoë calls out, confusion in her voice. "Dad, if that's you, you know you didn't need to knock," Harry hears her say.
"Sorry, cousin. But I'm not Uncle H," a new voice says, light and airy, sounding as if it was smirking.
"Oh!" Melinoë gasps out in shock, freezing Harry in the closet. It didn't sound like a good sound to his ears as he tried to rack his brain on just who Melinoë's cousin could be.
"The Greek gods' family tree is like a fucking wreath!" Harry thinks to himself as his head begins to beat harder and he shifts into the hanging clothes to hide himself better.
"What are you doing here?" Melinoë asks her cousin, curiosity replacing her confusion.
"What does it look like, Mel?" The cousin says, sounding amused. "My job, I have a package to deliver after all," they say and is followed by someone shaking a bag of some kind.
"Oh, weird," Melinoë tells her cousin, and Harry can almost see her shrugging before he hears her speak again. "But yeah, sure, I'll sign for it," the sound of a bag being quickly pulled back from Melinoë follows her statement.
"Ah, but you see, therein lies the caveat, cousin of mine," the voice tells Melinoë with a chiding tone of voice. "This package isn't for you," the mischievous smile evident in the tone of voice.
"But- I'm the only one here," Melinoë says with a cough breaking her words as she was trying to cover for Harry.
"Now, Melly. We both know that isn't true," the cousin says, his tone shifting to something a bit more serious. "I'd be a poor messenger if I couldn't find who I was delivering the message to, and I'm on a bit of a time crunch; so let's cut the games and you go get him," the voice says as it's timber shock with some unspoken power that caused Harry's bones to rattled in him. "Please," they tack on at the end as if he didn't want to fulfill an unspoken threat.
He hears Melinoë sigh before her footsteps carry her back to her room, the closet door opens as Melinoë speaks up. "Harry, you can come out. He's harmless, well- mostly harmless," she tells him.
Harry pokes his head out from the clothes rack to look at her. "Only mostly?" He whispers to her.
Melinoë smiles and rolls her eyes. "Yeah, he's actually one of the better members of the council, trust me," she tells Harry with a coaxing smile.
"I heard that, and I thank you. I know I'm awesome!" The voice yells from just beyond the room causing Melinoë to snort out a laugh as she turns and begins to leave the bedroom. Harry lets out a disgruntled sigh before following behind her to the intersection between the bath and bedroom.
Her cousin was leaning against the wall, and for a moment Harry thought he was from beyond the hedge. His features were sharp and elven, with soft blue eyes and sandy blonde hair, he was leaning against the cave wall with one hand in his pocket while his other was holding a plastic bag of some kind. The man smiles as he sees Harry walk out of the bedroom; it is painful to see as it reminds Harry of the smile Sirius used to give him whenever he was up to no good. The man was wearing a postmaster's uniform with a carrier bag, shorts instead of slacks, a windbreaker, and finally, a mailman's cap.
"Well," the man says, huffing out a small laugh. "Don't this beat all, seeing you two reminds me of another time I had to come down to the underworld. She looked guilty and scared as well," he says with a grin.
"What?" Harry says, confused, missing how Melinoë crosses her arms over her chest and looks away.
"Nothing, just a bit of ancient history," the man says with a chuckle before pushing himself off the wall and walking up to Harry. "We haven't met in person before, but it is good to finally put a face to the name. It's good to meet you, Harry. Do you know who I am?" He asks with a lazy smile.
"You're Hermes, Daphnis' dad, right?" Harry asks, noticing the shared elven features between the two, and watches as the god nods his head, the lazy smile never leaving his face.
"I am indeed, and no prouder father you will find of the members of my little sisters hunt than I for my son," Hermes confirms as he looks at Harry with pride for his son in his eyes.
"Little sister?" Harry asks, confused. "Isn't she older than you?" he says tilting his head to the side.
"Ah, but you see, I'm taller," Hermes says with a growing grin before snapping his fingers. "And speaking of your mother…" he says, trailing off to reach down toward the messenger bag he was wearing. Reaching in he pulls out an aluminum clipboard before flipping it over and handing it out for Harry to take. Hermes then reaches into his windbreaker and his breast pocket as Harry takes the clipboard and pulls out a fountain pen. "I need your signature, initials, and the current date, here, here, and one last time at the bottom, please," the God tells Harry as he points out all the places and they highlight themselves.
Harry takes the pen from Hermes and holds it awkwardly as it hisses at him causing him to look at the pen in surprise to see two snakes swirling around the cap.
"Oh, don't mind George or Martha, they're harmless," Hermes tells him with a smirk as Harry looks between the two arguing snakes and the god before shrugging and signing the paperwork. "Thank you," Hermes says as he takes back the clipboard and tears out a sheet of paper from under the one Harry signed and handed it to him. "That's your copy and your receipt for the delivery of this," he tells him as he hands over the bag. Harry takes it with a frown, looking between it and the god in front of him. "Well, go on, open it up," Hermes tells him.
Harry tears it open, freezing when he sees what's inside of it.
"Harry?" Melinoë asks, her tone carrying her worry with just his name. Harry doesn't answer as he reaches into the plastic and pulls out his jacket, folded and feeling as if it weighed a ton; he unfolds it and holds it in front of him, his face inscrutable.
"Your mother has been beside herself in worry," Hermes says, causing him to look up at the god's face. His face was hard, but his soft eyes and tone betrayed what he truly felt. "When you didn't show up at the meeting spot, she searched for you herself but only found a trail of blood and that discarded jacket. But she knew you were still alive somehow and started to search for you with her hunters, your sisters," he says, exhaling a breath before looking behind Harry to where Melinoë stood. "There should be a letter with it," he says softly as he turns his eyes back to Harry.
He finds it in the front pocket of his jacket, along with his Cloak. He turns around, hanging the jacket on a stalagmite, and opens the folded piece of paper. The words were pressed deeply into the page as whoever wrote it did so in great emotion, worry, and anger bled from every word inscribed on it. Worrying about him and angry at herself, she didn't know what happened, but he had vanished, and she couldn't find him. She apologized over and over again for him leaving, for not doing enough, for not trying to get him to open up to her more.
Artemis had blamed herself for him leaving.
"It's…hard, to be a parent," Hermes tells Harry as he rereads the letter. "Especially when said parent is a god, we are forced to watch from afar, only helping in small ways to ease the burden of our children's lives from them. It gives us a sense of detachment like we don't really care, but that couldn't be further from the truth," he says, sounding hurt and tired of it all. "Your mother has an entirely different problem, however. Due to her Hunt, she can see you more often, care for you more deeply than any of us can for our children,"
Harry's eyes read and reread the letter over and over again. "I- I didn't- it's not her fault- Athena, she- she…" Harry says as regret whirls in his mind and Melinoë tucks herself out of view, her face overcome with pain and fear. "It's not her fault," he says quietly.
"I know that," Hermes says as he puts his hand on Harry's shoulder, causing Harry to turn back to him. "You know that, don't you think it's time for her to know that?"
"I- I don't know if I-" Harry mutters as the scarlet eyes of the monster flash in his eyes, causing him to flinch and look back at the letter in his hand. "Artemis wasn't the only one I left behind, was she?" Harry thinks to himself as Hermione, Ron, Luna, and everyone else he left back on the isles with the monster without him.
"I'm not telling you you have to go back, Harry," Hermes says as Harry continues to look at the letter. "I don't know everything that you've been through, but I know it's enough that it would have broken a lesser mortal. For something like that, those invisible wounds on your heart and soul, they need time to heal; and I understand that, believe me, I do," he says, his voice cracking as the god spoke. "But that doesn't mean you can't tell the people who you are closest to that you need that time, Harry,"
Harry turns back to Hermes one last time to find him holding out his clipboard with a fresh piece of paper on it and a pen.
"And don't worry about paying," Hermes tells him with a soft smile. "This one is on the house,"
Harry Potter, The Garden of Persephone, a few hours later.
Harry's letter to Artemis was quick, telling her that he was safe and unharmed, that he was working through some things on his own, and that he would join her later. He left it vague just in case before handing it to Hermes who told him that he would keep just where he was a secret before leaving in a flash and a cha-ching! Of a cash register.
With the solemn mood falling over Harry, he and Melinoë didn't pick up where Hermes had interrupted them. Instead, with the return of his cloak, Melinoë brought up the idea of taking him for a walk in one of her favorite places in the underworld now that Harry could hide from her father. Getting out of the cave and stretching his legs sounded great to Harry, so he accepted quickly before throwing on his cloak and leaving his jacket where he had hung it.
So, in a flash of divine power, Melinoë had brought him to her mother's garden.
As Harry stepped into the garden, he was immediately struck by its eerie beauty. The flowers that grew from the ground were not real but crafted with the most precious materials - gold, silver, iron, and gems of every color imaginable. He saw false hellebore with shimmering emerald stems and delicate petals made of yellow citrine. Belladonna carved from Amethyst seemed to almost glow in the dim light, while flamingo flowers created from rubies and garnet sparkled like tiny fires.
The shrubbery was equally as impressive - emerald flakes held together by intricate loops of black metal, forming small hedges that twisted and turned in on themselves. The trees lining the perimeter of the garden were petrified, their gnarled branches reaching towards the darkness that loomed above in the underworld. In the damp and cold soil, large mushrooms glowed with soft bioluminescent light, casting a surreal rainbow across the walking paths as the light filtered through the gemstone flowers above. Harry couldn't name all the different types of flowers he saw, but each one was painstakingly crafted with rare and valuable stones and metals, making this garden unlike any other he had ever seen.
"My father created this for my mom eons ago," Melinoë tells him softly as they walk hand in hand through the garden. "When my mom descends to the underworld she becomes someone…different in most ways. She is, in a way, death incarnate. Her very presence brings the winter months for the world above, so nothing grows around her and no matter her form, she does love her flowers," she tells him with a small smile as she leans her head against his invisible shoulder.
"He created the garden so she could see the beauty of spring in the underworld in a way that it would never fade or die. Telling her that his love for her will last as long as the garden stands, eternally beautiful and forever immortalized in this garden that will never die," she tells him as she reaches out with her free hand to run it across stalks of ruby roses. "There is only one thing here that is actually alive, charmed and protected by grandmother to survive even the worst my mother could throw at it if she wanted to, an anniversary gift my mom called it,"
"What is it?" Harry asks curiously, turning to look at her.
"It's the pom-" Melinoë starts to say before stopping and shaking her head. "It doesn't matter; it's just a silly tree," she says with a huff before letting go of Harry's hand and stepping away from him. "I need to- to do something real fast," she says before turning to look at Harry's floating head. "Can I trust you not to make trouble in the garden? I just need to grab something from the palace real quick,"
Harry frowns but nods his head. "I've got this-" as he holds up the hem of his cloak. "-if anything I'll just hide under it and wait near the entrance," he tells Melinoë, who nods in return.
"Just stay in the garden, I'll find you when I get back," she quickly tells him before turning on her heel and jogging away from Harry deeper into the garden and towards the black palace not too far away.
Harry lets out a sigh as he looks away from Melinoë's form; it was hard to tear his eyes away from one stunning ghostly beauty for another- in his eyes, a lesser one. He wanders around the garden, afraid to touch even the sturdiest-looking plants in fear of breaking the delicate beauty he sees in them. His mind turns over the questions that have been chasing him since he left the islands weeks ago as he walked blindly through the garden- his fear, his uncertainty of them. Harry finds himself gravitating toward the trees that lined the perimeter of the garden, to the woods and forests that reminded him so much of his mother's divine domain.
His cloak and steps pass over the flagstones that lined the walkway of the garden as the thoughts of Artemis and the words written in her letter play over in his mind. The thoughts of the friends and loved ones he left behind on the islands of his homeland in the clutches of the monster he ran from.
Harry breaks from his thoughts when he enters a small clearing in the undead woods that surround the garden. The ground in the clearing was like a marsh or swamp, the thick mud bubbling like it was boiling. A putrid smell wafts up from the forest floor that smelt of decay and poison to him, Harry looks up to see a single tree in the middle of the clearing. He had no name for it; the ashy white branches grew like a mangrove tree, twisting and entrapping limbs, wrapping and crushing everything in it. It sprouted black, toxic-looking leaves that died as soon as they sprouted, withering and falling into the poisonous and rotted sludge that fed the roots of the tree.
Two figures were caught in the crushing branches and ensnaring vines toward the top of it. The ancient robes they once were in life hung off their skeletal thin frames and rotted to almost nothing. Their lower halves were gone from sight, as if the tree had swallowed them, imprisoning them in the trunk for all time. Both of the men's chests were splayed open to reveal rib bones and organs that hid underneath as tiny ants with large pincers crawled through them, ripping and tearing at the exposed organs in a gruesome feast for the insects.
The man on the right, farthest from Harry, had his throat slashed open to the bone. His head was tilted back and the tree had grown around the top half of his face and eyes, blinding him. His hands were trapped in the branches, crushing and breaking his hands as they regenerated over and over again as the blood from his open throat and bleeding hands fed the putrid bog beneath the tree.
The man on the left side of the tree and closest to Harry had his arms pulled back at a painful angle; vines with thick black thorns growing from them were wrapped around his arms tightly, leaving his hands exposed. The same vines also wrapped around his neck like a noose, tightly pulling back and biting into his throat as the tree branches bound him in place. Bark grew like a fungus over his face, sealing one eye closed as the other looked off into the distance, a haze of unspeakable pain blanketing his lone eye. Blood dripped from where the thorns were biting into the man's flesh and the bog below.
Harry had no words for the inhuman punishment that was before him; the two men woven into a tree and left alive to feel everything happening to them was grotesque to bear witness to. But Harry feels neither shock nor horror at the sight, his eyes sliding over the terrible trophy set into Persephone's garden unfeelingly. It wasn't until the single free eye of the man turned to Harry, and through the haze of pain, Harry saw confusion, as if he wasn't who the man expected to see, but as the lone eye landed on the cloak- recognition shone in his eye.
"Ig…gy," the hoarse voice comes out as a whisper of a question, years of disuse and screaming cracking and splintering its tone. "Iggy?… Ignotus…it's you," the man on the left says, his body beginning to twitch and spasm in pain as he pulls at the vines. The man on the right stills for a moment, as if he was listening to the other.
"You…coward!" The man on the left screams as loud as he can as he pulls on the vines as the thorns dig and rip his flesh away. "You…bastard! Coward! Your idea! It was you! You should be here! Not us! Ignotus! Brother! Coward! Betrayer!" Cadmus Peverell begins to scream louder and louder, trashing as he tries to pull himself from the tree. The other man, Antioch, also begins to trash in his prison as well, and Harry does not doubt if Antioch's throat isn't open as it was, he would be screaming as well.
Harry says nothing and does nothing in the face of two of the three brothers, the mortals that blasphemed against the gods. His face was fast and emotionless and his eyes as hard as stone while Cadmus ripped his arm free in a display of visceral carnage as he degloved his arm to reach for Harry, trying to drag him into the punishment with him.
"Why Iggy?! Why did you do it!?" Cadmus's screams turn to sobs as the tree he was bound to lashes out, wrapping its vines around his arm to drag it back. "Why…did you…" a hacking cough escapes Cadmus while a single tear slides down his cheek as those same vines wrap around his lungs and begin to squeeze as he is pulled back into the position Harry first found him in.
Harry turns away from the tree of perdition with the sinner locked within its branches. Reaching back, he draws up the hood of his cloak- of Ignotus' Cloak and walks back down the path he came from. Though he couldn't escape Cadmus' words ringing in his ears, he had called Ignotus a coward for some reason. Harry lets out a scuffing laugh as he feels that he and the creator of his cloak have something in common- they are both cowards.
As Harry returns to the garden proper, he tilts his head back to look at the darkness above him, a frown set deep on his face. "I don't want to be a coward," he thinks to himself even as the fleeting desire to sneak into Elysium crosses his mind. He knew he could do it with his cloak, but he also knew if he did- he'd never want to leave.
He was torn- torn between what he knew he should do and what he wanted to do.
"There comes a time in everyone's life where they must choose between what is right and what is easy," Dumbledore had told him after the battle of Mag Turied and Harry knew what was easy and what was right.
"Harry?" Melinoë calls out, causing Harry to turn and look down the garden path to see the princess of ghosts looking for him. He reaches up and pulls the hood down off his head as Melinoë turns to see his floating head, worry growing in her eyes. "Are you okay?" She asks softly as she walks up to him.
"No," Harry says, smiling softly at her. "Not even close,"
Melinoë's cave, July 28th.
Dreams were odd in Melinoë's cave, they were far more vivid, more real than his normal dreams. His nightmares stayed away and left him alone in the burnt ruins of Privet Drive. Harry didn't know if Melinoë fed on them or not while he slept in her cave, but he was thankful either way. It gave him more time to think and more privacy to do so; Melinoë had a habit of distracting him whenever she saw him lost in his thoughts, normally getting naked in front of him.
"Not that I'm complaining," Harry mutters to himself as he looks out into the snowy forest of his mind as he continues to turn the thumb ring between his fingers.
He sighs to himself as he lets the thumb ring fall once more as he leans backwards on the steps of the burnt husk of a house. Harry looks skyward to the silver of the full moon and the light that spilled from the starless sky onto the field of snow. He closed his eyes and he could feel the Hunt sitting just inside the treeline across from him- watching and waiting. He pushes himself to his feet as he opens his eyes before turning and walking into the ruined house, nothing much was left on the inside. Only the cupboard remained after the fire, but it was filled with half-destroyed clutter that used to be the items that filled the house.
One such thing was a mirror.
It wasn't anything special or memorable for Harry, it was just a mirror from his Aunt and Uncle's room that used to hang on the wall. Aunt Petunia used it to check her outfit in it every now and then, it was cracked now and smudged with soot. Harry walks toward it, his boots sinking into the ash of his old life; running a hand over the cupboard door where silent death slept. As he makes it to the mirror, leaning on the remains of one of the kitchen walls, he looks into the soot-covered and cracked thing.
But he doesn't see himself; he sees the Monster. He sees Voldemort.
His pale form stood in the foreground, his scarlet eyes burning with hatred as Dún Scaith burned once more behind him. Bodies in the background lead up to the monster- as if he had cut them down on a casual stroll. Harry recognized some of the bodies by what little detail he could see; several of them had red hair, one a bushy mess up top of her head, spiky pink, a well-worn suit, bound with blue at the edges. But he keeps his eyes focused on the Monster- the last remaining fear in him.
"Who else?" The monster hisses at Harry through the mirror in a sadistic glee, his lips parting as he smiles at Harry, showing off the rows of shark teeth. "Who else will you let die?"
Harry looks down and away from the monster, the familiar pain from Atalanta and Sirius blooming in his chest. His eyes caught the gleam of moonlight off the gold of the ring he wore on his neck. He raises his hand and clutches the ring in it as he closes his eyes to the specter in front of him as he recalls the tragedy of Connla once more.
Aífe had broken Connla to forge him into a weapon in the hopes that her son would kill Cú Chulainn. Her own spite and jealousy guided her actions as she alone carved what she wanted into Connla, but she had made a mistake that doomed her son to failure. To where no matter what, Connla wouldn't kill his father.
Aífe didn't pass on her hatred of the man to Connla.
Aífe told Connla who his father was and in place of love for her, she was feared by Connla. Her weapon was doomed to fail from the start, her revenge soured by Lugh tearing her to pieces and feeding her soul to a Formorian. All Aífe had to do was install a love for her in Connla's heart and Harry knew for sure her son would stop at nothing to see the monster that so hurt her dead at his feet.
While Connla had lacked that tie to Aífe and thus that conviction to deal the killing blow…
"Who else will I take from you?" The monster asks Harry, mocking him with a smile on his twisted face.
Harry wasn't.
"No one," Harry says in a whisper as he opens his eyes to look at the monster, watching his face melt from mocking superiority to an angry sneer. Harry could feel each step of the great beast that prowled his mind sinking into the snow and ash behind him. He could hear the rattle of the broken chains of those who were foolish enough to try and cage echo across the frozen landscape of his mind. He could smell the fetid hot breath of the Hunt as it let out a growl from behind him. Harry rips the silver chain that held the thumb ring from around his neck, letting it fall into the ash of Privet Drive.
They had their prey.
They had their Hunt.
"You will take no one else from me," Harry tells the specter in the mirror, the monster that had hunted him all his life, and watches as fear flickers in his eyes. "But I'm going to take everything from you," he growls at Voldemort, Harry's face twisting with the Hunt- his eyes flashing amber as he holds the thumb ring between three fingers.
And as Harry goes to slip on the ring- "Are you sure you want to do that?" A ghost from a long-dead past asks him, its voice like a whisper in the cold. "Once you do, there'll be no turning back," it warns him.
"This is my choice. Not Aífe's, not Artemis', not The Morrígan's, or fate it's fucking self- I won't lose anyone else to him, not to that monster," Harry tells himself before he slips on the ring that felt like it was made for him as the mirror shattered.
Harry Potter.
It was only after Harry pulled on his second boot as he sat on the bed that Melinoë spoke up.
"You're leaving," it wasn't a question from her, but it came out quiet and solemn in a tone that Harry wanted to do nothing more than to comfort.
"Yeah," Harry tells her without turning to face Melinoë, who was curled up on the other side of the bed with only the black silky sheets covering her naked form. "There's something I have to do- something only I can do," he tells her sadly. Harry feels her shift on the bed before fiddling with something on her nightstand and standing up while dragging the sheets with her.
Melinoë walks around the bed to come face to face with Harry, but he still doesn't look at her- because he knows if he does…
She kneels in front of him, causing Harry to look away and she knows why he does- because she knows he'll stay if he does. She reaches up and caresses his cheek softly, not blaming him for not wanting to look at her; for she doesn't know if she can bear the sight of him walking away.
"What if I told you, you didn't have to?" Melinoë whispers to him softly, causing his breath to hitch in his chest.
"That's not possible, we both know-"
"Shhh, Harry," she says, placing a finger on his lips. "Let me finish, okay?" She asks, and for one heart-stopping moment, she thinks that he won't let her. But to Melinoë relief, Harry nods once. "What if I told you I had a way for you to escape fate? That you didn't have to fight anymore, that you didn't have to suffer any longer. That you could stay here- in the underworld, with me?" She asks him, watching as a desperate want enters his eyes. With a shaking hand, she takes Harry's hand into her own, and with her other hand, she places what she had stolen from her mother's garden the day before.
Harry looks down and sees what she has placed in his hand. "Pomegranate seeds," Harry says in a whisper as two ruby red seeds shine in the soft light of Melinoë's room.
"All you have to do is eat them, then you'll be claimed by the underworld- this underworld. You'll be dead in all but actuality," she informs him in a soft, pleading tone. "Let someone else kill him, Harry, let the Celtic Gods handle it- stay here, with me. Please," she begs Harry, her voice cracking as she speaks, the love she has for him in every word.
But as Harry looks at the seeds that would throw off his fate, an escape from something he didn't ask for nor wanted, the golden thumb ring gleams on his finger. The faces of his friends and everyone else he left behind flashed through his mind.
"What is right and what is easy,"
Harry doesn't speak; he doesn't trust himself to. knowing what he wants to say and what he wants to do. But this wasn't about what he wanted, it never was, this is about what he needed to do.
So, with a shaking hand, he hands the seeds back to Melinoë.
"I- I can't- I won't leave them with that monster," Harry tells Melinoë before standing up, still avoiding her eyes. He wouldn't be able to leave if he looked into them and he knew that, the tears that ran down her pale cheeks were hard enough to turn away from as it was. His feet feel like lead weights as he walks across the room, his chest aching and his heart begging him to turn back around and eat the pomegranate seeds.
But Harry keeps walking away.
"The exit in the cave," Melinoë says just loud enough for Harry to hear. "It will take you where you need to go," she says in a defeated tone, not helping Harry in a march he didn't want to do.
"Thank you," Harry says, stopping reluctantly at the entrance to her room. "For everything, Melly," Melinoë doesn't speak for a long moment, and Harry starts to leave once more she speaks up.
"The House of Night," she whispers.
"What?" Harry asks, turning to look at her. She was still kneeling at the bed with the sheets pulled tight over herself as if she was trying to stop herself from standing with her face pushed into the bed.
"If anyone will know about Didi, it will be the mistress of The House of Night. Ask Artemis' lieutenant, Zoë about it, she'll know where it is," she says as she turns her head to face away from Harry, refusing to say goodbye to him.
As Harry walks away, his footsteps echoing through the desolate cave, he can't help but feel a sense of guilt and heartbreak. He snatches his jacket without a second thought, not wanting to linger any longer in this place of memories with Melinoë. The sound of her sobs pierces through him, tugging at his heartstrings as he hurries towards the exit, afraid to look back. Each step he takes towards the surface feels like a betrayal to the love they had shared. But he knows deep down that it's for the best. As he emerges from the underworld, his tears flow freely and he doesn't bother trying to hold back his pain. For what he has to do next requires a clear mind and heart, and he cannot afford to let regrets cloud his judgment. He tries not to blame Melinoë for their situation, but deep down he knows she is partly responsible for luring him into this love that could never be. Despite all the conflicting emotions inside him, Harry knows he must do what's right, even if it means sacrificing his own happiness.
Harry grabs his jacket from the ground and quickly shrugs it on, his arms slipping into the well worn sleeves before tugging it straight. As he reaches into the pockets, he finds everything he needs - his Cloak, Torch, wands, and swiss army knife. But one unexpected item catches him off guard - a ring. It's made of a dark, almost black metal thats cool to the touch and has a skull design with two small rubies for eyes; reminding him of the pomegranate seeds and a goddess's bittersweet promises.
Taking a moment to admire the ring under the faint moonlight filtering into the cave, Harry can't help but feel a pang of sadness as he slips it onto his right ring finger. "Goodbye, Melinoë," he whispers to the darkness of the cave before turning towards the exit. "I lov- I think you already know," he adds with a heavy sigh.
Stepping out into the crisp mountain air, Harry is greeted by the familiar sound of wing beats and soft hoots in the distance. He nods to himself and sets off on his hunt, determined to find whatever it was that lay ahead of him.
Chapter done!
Fuck this was a heartbreaker.
So, I've been meaning to bring this up since the last Aphrodite chapter in BMR but my thoughts on Harry's love life have changed a lot over the writing of this story.
The original end game ship was Harry/Tonks, but then I got all these ideas and decided they sounded better. Don't worry, Honks will still have their moments but it's no longer the end game ship. The end game ship honestly doesn't show up until Percy Jackson and the Heir to the Hunt. Which I think you'll all like.
Also, a feral lesbian werefox came into my comments a few weeks ago gushing over this story and her love for a thirsty Delphini, so I decided to throw in some girl on girl stuff.
All the gentlemen may aim their thanks at her.
Kingsaxcul, out!