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For three days and nights, he climbed Mount Olympus; the abode of his brothers and sisters.
His ascent was slow and painful. It was an arduous journey, made difficult by his butchered soul and the dense fog that covered Mytikas Peak and made the scenery eerie—courtesy of his brother’s constant need to brag.
As soon as he reached the summit, a Molossian three-headed dog and an infuriated woman cornered him.
‘’You will not have her, no matter how hard you try,” Demeter’s eyes blazed with rage as she took another step forward.
For a moment, as he took a ragged breath to calm his heart, he was fascinated by the different shades of green that fought for dominance.
He was reminded of the colours he missed for eons— the colours that would never exist in his Realm.
The irises glaring at him were iridescent, going from fern to moss, to olive, to pine to viridian, until they settled on a sea green.
His sister’s hair was wild and inflamed by the nectar of the Gods. It matched her newly-revealed temper.
Demeter pursued her blood-red lips and he smirked despite reckoning that at this rate, he would drive her to challenge him, again, or worse yet, curse him.
“How dare you seek her again? How dare you ignore the Gods’ Verdict and plot behind our backs?”
Despite his exhaustion, he was amused by the way she enunciated every word as if it had been shot from Apollo’s bow.
Few witnessed Demeter’s harshness. The Goddess of The Cornfield never took part in Olympian politics. She spent her time presiding over the seasons and the cycles of plants.
However, since that day, everything changed and Demeter lost her gaiety.
She became inconsolable, vengeful and angry, which brought him to his current plight.
He glanced at Zeus and the God of Thunder winked, his silver eyes gleaming with mischief.
Of course, the Chief Deity of Mount Olympus knew of his plan. He was the one that emboldened him to follow his heart and devise the ploy that would give him his flower back.
“Demeter,” he said, caressing Cerberus’s second head and urging him to stop growling at the enraged Goddess. “I promise that I’ve never forced her to choose me.”
“I know what you’re doing Hades. You’re slowly regaining your powers. You look younger every day. Somehow, you managed to entice my daughter and made her help you counter my curse and amass the scattered pieces of your soul,” Demeter said with certainty and neither did he deny nor confirm her claims.
However, what did she expect?
Of course, after she cursed him, he started plotting at once and the dispersed pieces of his soul sought his quest until they found her thanks to Zeus’ help.
Hades, son of Cronus and Rhea—the Unseen One, was not an easy foe. He was stern and pitiless, unmoved by prayer or sacrifice.
Most importantly, he was resilient. He would never give up on his one true love.
Part them, others might try but their hearts were utterly entangled and they wouldn’t remain divided.
Hades never left the Underworld and travelled above the ground, yet the day he did, he lost his heart to a fetching flower.
She was a vision, with long hair that tumbled over her shoulders like the streams of the Phlegethon fire which coiled round the earth and flew into the depths of Tartarus.
Her eyes were green and guiltless. They shone brighter than his most prized emeralds.
She carried the scents of earth and flowers and summer heat and all that he missed.
Hades, the aloof, forbidding God fell helplessly in love. He loved her against reason against peace, against promise…
His cold heart, like a pendulum, swayed with every breath she took and he knew that he had to have her.
He caused an indescribably beautiful flower to suddenly bloom before her. When Persephone reached out to pluck it, the ground under her opened and he appeared before her, all dreadful, majestic in his four-horse golden chariot and took her with him to the depths of the Underworld.
It was a prized, desirable sight presented solely to her and Persephone awoke like a Dianthus in midsummer and walked by his side willingly.
They collided like two stars fusing into one and the sweet lips that Eros’ hand made, lifted with a radiant smile.
Straight into her heart, mercy came and they understood each other on other levels of madness. Her love poured into his heart like the fascinating shadows that veiled his Realm and like a deprived grain that has long since died, Hades became green again.
His Persephone entered his life as twilight and marked the end of his lonely nights.
Demeter however, blinded by anguish and pain, called for her daughter for nine days and swore that she would have her revenge on the one who stole her precious.
She sought the help of Mageia and the two concocted a plan to separate him from his flower.
Kratos stole his soul and brought it to the Mortal Realm. There, he was reborn as a wizard.
Hades’ soul rebelled against the harsh separation. It dwindled and thinned and waned and all light in his heart was extinguished.
He bid his time, living a mere human's life and adhering to his sister’s punishment. But his wrath made him more callous than Typhon.
As if his exile to the Mortal Realm wasn’t enough, Hades was reborn as Tom Marvolo Riddle, a lowly halfblood orphan, overlooked and abandoned.
His resentment grew with every harsh punishment he received and for the first time, he witnessed the callousness of mankind.
They were easily swayed, prejudiced and weak and did not deserve his mercy.
The flame of fury that lived in the dark abyss of his soul awoke and despite his weakened state, he punished those who dared lay a hand on his mortal body.
With time, and consumed by the fire of anger and longing, he started losing his mind.
The lines were blurred and he couldn’t discern anymore where Hades started and where Tom Marvolo Riddle ended.
For sixty years, he endured, his wrath being the only force that drove him forward because deep inside, he knew that Zeus, his loyal brother, would never forget about him.
He waited for a sign and despite the years that passed, he never lost his faith.
He continued his daily supplications without complaint and waited for his dearest petition to be heard.
His patience was rewarded when he visited the Potters’ cottage to kill the lowly life that threatened his existence and his future.
As he drew closer, the little girl opened her eyes and he recognized them.
They were his flower’s eyes.
Somehow, Zeus managed to send Persephone to the Mortal Realm, intending to give him a second chance.
Everything made sense then.
The Fates made him butcher his soul and hide the pieces knowing that Persephone would collect them and bring him his immortality back.
Seven priceless shards sealed into Heirlooms protected by the essence of his magic.
It was a very dangerous bargain and his sanity had almost left him but the sacrifice was a must if he wanted to get his Persephone and his immortality back.
Even if destroyed, the pieces would be safe.
No creature of the Underworld would harm a soul with Hades’ signature. Thanatos and Cerberus would recognize him right away and see to his safety.
Understanding what he had to do, Hades gifted his flower a last shard of his soul, a guide which would incite her to seek him when her mission was accomplished.
He became one with the night after, submerged in darkness and nothingness and waited for years until Persephone Potter met Albus Dumbledore, his human archenemy.
With her Cloak of Invisibility, deriving from his Helm of Darkness and gifted to the Peverells by Thanathos, Persephone chased him.
With every Horcrux she destroyed, he got stronger and closer to his previous self.
And with every Horcrux she destroyed, he left her with a pomegranate seed which she placed gladly upon her tongue.
Hades gasped as his Scepter appeared in his hand.
Zeus winked while Demeter growled.
“I’m sorry Demeter,’’ he sighed; feigning concern, “I know that you spent every day loving and missing her. We’ll reach a compromise, you have my word. But whether you approve or not, Persephone is mine.”
Cerberus jumped to his side and Hades nodded to Zeus before he disintegrated into black smoke.
It was time to go back home but first, he had to collect his flower.
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A flare of amusement lit Persephone Potter’s eyes and a bright smile broke out on her face as she glanced down at the pomegranate seed lying inconspicuously beside the pensive.
With a steady hand, she took it and shuddered as she felt the blood of Adonis mingled with the essence of her beloved.
The fruit of the dead called to her and she put it into her mouth, renewing her pledge to her husband.
A tremendous impact shook her core as the seed’s magic seeped into her blood, and its darkness — the darkness of her Realm, simmered under her skin and filled her with tremendous power.
Her mind was suddenly awakened and a tether made of hellfire grew inside her soul and linked her to her soulmate.
The prospect of returning home filled her with anticipation.
She was impatient to see Hades again, hungry for the sight of him and the sound of his voice.
She missed his smiles, his frowns, his endearing frustrations and lengthy arguments with Thanatos and Charon as he instructed them to be more severe with the souls of the undeserving.
She remembered the first time she met him; when he tricked her with his flower and she tricked him with her innocent act.
The moment she saw him, everything in her clamoured with need and she knew that she wanted him.
She agreed to accompany him to the Underworld, wishing against hope that her mother would bless the love nestled into her heart.
For him, she endured many struggles and held on through it all. She accepted her mother’s punishment understanding that she made it out of love and waited patiently for the day she would have her husband back.
She experienced life as a mortal and was exceedingly thankful to the selfless humans she met.
Zeus has always been good to her. He entrusted her mortal body to two loving parents that sacrificed their lives to protect her.
She would repay them abundantly for their courage and spend an eternity with them in the Underworld. Hades would never deny her something so trivial.
Thinking about him again made her heart beat wildly. She trembled and her fingertips glided along the side of the desk as her excited nerves danced with the prospect of the upcoming reunion.
“Persephone, my dear girl, I think you should hurry,” Dumbledore’s voice ruined her moment of triumph and brought her back to awareness.
How cruel and contemptuous the human was. She couldn’t believe that she had ever found him charming, that she had liked him.
A pitiless smile touched her lips as she faced him slowly. “I’m sorry, Professor. There won’t be any Tom-killing tonight. I’ll leave your world like you planned all these years. Only, I’ll spend the rest of my eternity with him.” She said mercilessly.
Any hint of concern or contrition burned to ashes years ago. Any hope of being kind or merciful had gone the day she understood how manipulative this human was. She bid her time and kept acting knowing that she needed his help to collect the Horcruxes.
With every hint, every Heirloom he granted her access to, she won another pomegranate seed she consumed with relish.
She skewered Dumbledore’s portrait with a piercing glance and offered carelessly. “You won yourself a very unpleasant enemy, Albus Percival Dumbledore. Tom Riddle is not who you think. I won’t ruin the surprise, but we shall meet each other soon. I believe you’d better start praying that he’ll be in a charitable mood then, otherwise—“
Persephone shook her head and shrugged. With a wave of her hand, all the previous headmaster’s belongings were set on fire, portrait included.
Anticipation nuzzled against her heart as she threw the Cloak of Invisibility over her shoulders and went down. She felt Hades’ essence woven into it.
Centuries ago, The Fates convinced Thanatos to ask for a piece of the Helm of Darkness and gift it to the Peverells, her mortal ancestors.
The scene that greeted her eyes coaxed a tingle of sadness from her heart.
Witches and wizards she befriended were fighting for their lives and the cause they believed in.
She pitied them, pitied their helplessness and before she thought about withholding her power, she waved her hand and everything, everyone froze in place.
The notion of leaving Ron and Hermione and Neville and Luna heaped even more torment on her.
She prayed that The Fates would be kind to them and grant them a good life until the time came when they joined her in her Realm.
Persephone sifted the different faces she spent a lifetime with and her heart clamped around a note of regret.
‘’Farewell, my friends,’’ She whispered under her breath, unconsciously raising her hand.
She closed her eyes and headed toward the gate, knowing that Hades was waiting for her in the Forbidden Forest.
She looked askance at the bodies of the Death Eaters, sprawled on the forest ground.
It seemed that Hades was in no mood to accommodate them, mainly the harlot going by the name of Bellatrix Lestrange.
She could feel the tether linking her to her husband pulling at her heartstrings.
Ravenously, in a wordless plea, his magic swirled over her skin, caressing, eliciting such abundant yearning that she shivered with it.
“My flower.” His taunting whisper caressed her ear and she took a deep breath to steady her heart.
“Hades,” she answered through dry lips.
Persephone's gaze skimmed over him and warmth swept over her face and neck as she beheld the sight of her husband in all his glory.
Gone was Voldemort and in its place was the God of the Underworld, the Unseen One that no mortal eyes were allowed to glimpse.
Her longing uncoiled with astonishing force, and her heartbeat accelerated unbearably.
He was like she remembered from the day he gifted her his flower.
Her lovestruck eyes scrutinized him, going from the silky coal-black hair to the obsidian eyes that devoured her.
A smile curved his mouth seductively and he offered her his hand. “Come to me, my flower. I cannot wait any longer.”
Blindly, she threw herself into his arms and he searched her throat with devastating care, touching his lips to her pulse. “Did you enjoy my pomegranate seeds, Persephone? Did you enjoy the taste of the forbidden?” he asked huskily as his hand cradled her nape, the pad of his thumb tracing the satiny edge of her hairline.
As her balance faltered, she reached around his neck. She angled her face toward his and their lips grazed as she answered. ‘’I did, my love. I did enjoy your gift.”
His eyes shone with delight and his voice was dark, like smoked Ambrosia as he spoke. “Never will you be taken from me again, my flower. Never will you cry tears of despair again. I devised a solution to placate Demeter and she will be satisfied.”
Before she could ask, he caught her mouth in a full, open kiss.
Persephone went weak, melting against him as he kissed her slowly. The tip of his tongue entered, played gently, and the feel of it was so intimate and tantalizing that a wild tremor ran through her.
His mouth lifted at once and she reached around his neck again and let her fingers sink into his silky dark hair, shaping his skull.
He kissed her more aggressively then, his tongue probing, searching deeper, and she moaned at the pleasure of it.
Nothing existed outside of their embrace, nothing mattered.
Hades lifted his hand and his Scepter appeared in his hand. The Stygian iron reflected the moonlight and mesmerized, she watched as he tapped the ground once.
It opened and Cerberus’ heads poked out from inside.
Persephone chuckled as the three-headed guardian’s eyes shone with merriment when he noticed her.
She wilted against Hades’ side, steeped in the warmth of his body and he kissed her forehead, his fingers going through the length of her hair.
“Let’s go home, my flower,” he whispered and she nodded.
Darkness descended like a silky curtain upon them and the very air prickled with prolepsis, but Persephone wasn’t worried.
She had Hades and Hades was her home, her night, her winter and her garden of pomegranate trees.