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Chapter Text

(I)

Harry was merely taking a stroll when it happened. It was a pleasantly cool day, and the sun peeked behind the large clouds just enough to cast a warm glow onto the planet below. The tree nymphs danced and swayed to the gentle tunes of the satyrs, the flowers were all in full bloom and even the animals were bathing in the dim sunlight.

The only reason he was even outside at all was because Hermione had forced him to go get some ‘fresh air’ as if he needed it. He snorted. He was a god, for goodness sake. The only beings who needed ‘fresh air’ were mortals.

Wherever he stepped, the grass withered away, the trees cowered away from his dark aura. Even the animals knew better than to get in his way. The ground became a dying wasteland beneath his feet and all around him, but that wasn’t his concern. Demeter could easily fix that, anyways.

The nymphs were wise enough to bow down and stay out of his path. He was sure that they still remembered the time when one of their own, a willow nymph, had dared to stand in his way. She had the audacity to remain in his path as he was passing by. He, the God of the dead and the Ruler of the Underworld. In all his several millennia, Harry had never seen any creature as arrogant as she.

Her foolish pride had ensured her ultimate demise. Harry chuckled to himself at the image. After he had destroyed her willow tree, it was quite enjoyable to watch her slow, painful death.

Hermione had really chewed him out for that one. He smiled wistfully. She had acted as if a mere tree nymph was worth giving a damn for! But then again, that was Hermione. Protector of the ‘innocents.’ He snorted and chuckled quietly to himself.

He eyed the sparse trees distastefully. Really, there was nothing here worth coming to see! Why in heavens did he even bother in-

Harry froze in his tracks.

Some few stadia ahead of him, there was a god sitting among some flowers. Surely, it was a god, for no mortal could have ever been this breathtaking.

The man glowed under the soft light of the sun, creating an ethereal halo that Harry wanted to tear into shreds and keep entirely to himself. His pale, delicate skin called out, demanded that Harry sink his sharp teeth into it, to claim the man and mark him as his own. His flowing, white-gold hair was nothing short of perfect, of beautiful. The man was an angel, sitting in his heaven and Harry was the forbidden snake, the poisoned apple that the man would bite into and fall into evil, into the darkness, into Harry’s darkness.

Harry couldn’t even breathe. He could only watch as the man cupped his hands and allowed a pure-white butterfly to land gently on his milky-white palms. The butterfly nuzzled into the man’s soft strokes against its spine, waving its antennae happily. The man laughed softly, his tinkling, melodic voice losing itself in the breeze and drifting all the way to Harry’s listening ears.

The man watched as the butterfly flew into the sky with a peaceful, yet wonderous expression on his face. His hands fell gracefully to his sides, adjusting the flowing white chiton he was wearing. Even more of his satiny skin was revealed, making Harry take a step closer to him..

Harry wanted to take him apart and put him back together, to make him weep and to make him howl with laughter, to be his master and his slave and his everything. He stepped even closer to the man than before, his cattle skin sandals making the leaves beneath his feet crunch noisily.

The noise made Harry suddenly snap out of his trance and stumble backwards. What was wrong with him? This had never happened before. Never.

Harry turned around and vanished into thin air. The only thing he left behind was the strong stench of magma and the crumpled petals of a blood-red rose.

(II)

Harry couldn’t get the picture of the man out of his head. It had been some days (or weeks; he lost track of time when he wasn’t firmly grounded to reality) and he still couldn’t get think of anything but the beautiful blond.

His silky hair was as pale as dressed flax, his supple skin looked as soft as a cloud, his-

“Harry!” Harry jumped slightly in his seat, then scowled. Gods, he hated when she snuck up on him like that.

“How many times have I told you not to scream in my ear, ‘Mione?” He sighed, opening his eyes to stare at her. She was standing in front of his throne with her arms crossed and her hair a bushy, frizzy mess. Her eyes blazed with fiery fury, making her irises glow almost as brightly as the flowing rivers of lava that illuminated the dark realm.

Had she been anybody else (besides Ron, or his annoying siblings) Harry would have smote them where they stood for the sheer nerve of not cowering beneath him, although every once in a while, he would leave them for the lost spirits to haunt their minds and drive them mad. It was always entertaining.

As it was, now Harry had to listen to her rant and nag and lecture him about lagging behind on his godly duties. Surely, the world could survive on its own for just one week, couldn’t it?

“Why in the world are you acting so irresponsibly? Do you know how many newly-dead souls I’ve had to judge? By myself?”

Harry tapped the arm rest of his seat impatiently. “I’ve been busy, ‘Mione.”

“Busy doing what?” She rose an eyebrow accusingly. Harry scowled.

“Nothing. It’s a private matter.” As she opened her mouth to speak up again, Harry hastily cut in.

“I shall be heading to my chambers now. If there’s anything that requires my attention, save it for tomorrow. You are dismissed.”

She narrowed her eyes but conceded, inclining her head slightly. “Yes, my Lord.”

The use of the formal title didn’t escape Harry’s notice. He watched closely as she walked out of the throne room with a careful glint in her rusted copper eyes.

Harry was going to have to be more careful around her now. He knew just what she was capable of; it was why he had chosen her as his advisor in the first place. Her sharp wit and intellect even surpassed those of some lesser gods’.

Damn her.

(III)

“My Lord, Lady Aphrodite has sent you a message.”

Harry bit back a tired sigh and set down the daily report that Ron had sent in for him to inspect. Whenever Aphrodite sent him a message, she was either trying to convince him to settle down with a nice minor goddess as his queen or inviting him to a grand celebration on Mount Olympus that he was required to attend, no matter the circumstances. Harry had managed to escape the last few ones she had invited him too, and he knew that she would eventually find a loophole in his plans.

Harry fervently hoped that it was the former message.

He snapped out of his thoughts and turned back to the trembling phantom servant who was kneeling at his feet with his head bowed respectfully, presenting a papyrus scroll to him on a hammered gold platter. It was tied tightly with a thin red ribbon and bore the seal of Olympus on the edge: a mountain surrounded by a halo and twelve stars, each one for a major Olympian. As it was, Harry barely spent any of his time on Olympus, and he was sure that the only reason he was still considered one was because he was simply too powerful to be ignored. Besides, even if he tried to opt out, Zeus and Poseidon would somehow convince him to change his mind. It had happened several times in the past.

“If it is an invitation to a party, tell Lady Aphrodite that I will not be able to attend any gatherings for some time. I am quite busy with my duties and I cannot ignore them.”

The servant gulped audibly and trembled a little more. “Lady Aphrodite said that I should remind you of the favor she performed for you if you refuse the invitation. She also said to tell you that there’s no way you can avoid them anymore.”

“That koprophagos.” Harry groaned. Of course, she just had to bring the time when he had needed her help to try and make Ron and Hermione fall in love with each other (it was merely for the benefit of the Underworld as a whole – their combined intellect would make Harry even better off than he already was - and definitely not because Harry was tired of seeing them pine hopelessly for each other). That was centuries ago! Of course she just had to bring it up at the worst possible moment.

“Go tell her that I shall attend the party. Now begone!” He picked up the scroll from the platter and unrolled it as the servant quickly vanished.

Harry, my dear! It’s been too far long since we talked! I hope everything’s alright down there (although I know for a fact that your skin must surely be deathly pale from the lack of sunlight in there. It wouldn’t hurt to come outside every once in a while, you know).

Harry snorted. The one time Hermione had convinced him to go into the upper world, he had managed to fall head over heels for somebody he had never even met before.

How are Ron and Hermione? I hope they’re still together now! I would hate for my magic to go to waste.

Harry snorted. Of course, she asked about his advisors before she even thought of wondering how he was. Then again, she was a sucker for a good love story, so he shouldn’t have really surprised. It wasn’t as if he ever asked about her, anyways.

Anyways, I’m having a party tomorrow! Ares just surprised me with a brand new battalion of chariots commissioned in my honor! Of course, I won’t use them, but a gift of that size certainly deserves a celebration!

Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. After taking a few seconds to calm himself by inhaling the smoky scent of the Underworld, he firmed his resolve and opened his eyes to finish the letter.

This time, you have to come. I’m not taking any excuses from you, dearie. It’s going to be absolutely fabulous! Who knows, maybe you’ll finally find the woman (or man, I know you’re not picky) of your dreams! Make sure to come as soon as the sun sets tomorrow evening!

See you tomorrow, dearie!

Love, Aphrodite <3

He threw the letter to the ground in frustration, where it instantly caught on fire and was reduced to powdery ashes. No matter how much he wanted to stay behind, Harry was a man of his words. If Aphrodite called out the favor she had done for him, so be it.

He stood up and stretched his arms out. If he was attending any party, then he had to find something presentable to wear. It wasn’t every day the Lord of the Underworld came out of his realm, and if he absolutely had to attend then he might as well just use it as an opportunity to intimidate all of the people there.

He cracked a smile at the thought. Perhaps he would meet his little god there as well.

Chapter Text

(I)

Draco smiled softly to himself as he inhaled the fragrant scent of the scarlet red rose he had just plucked from his meadow. Its petals were still as soft as rabbit down, and the small drops of morning dew reflected the bright moonlight in broken beams. Its thorns were still sharp and curved, but Draco knew how to hold rose stems properly. He was the god of springtime, after all. If he didn’t know how to hold them properly, then who would, really?

As he sniffed the rose again, he faintly registered the coppery, cloying scent of blood on it. He exhaled wistfully at the smell. Aphrodite’s scent was still stubbornly stuck to it, even after all this time.*

He secured it behind his ear and moved on to the next flower. A dove-white aster. Its myriad of petals were slightly curved inwards, giving it a rounded shape. He gently touched the pointed tips and pushed them even closer to the center as he looked up into the night sky. Astraea’s legacy would live on forever.* He knew immediately where she was; his mother had taught him how to stargaze when he was still young. The Virgo constellation twinkled brightly in the sky, and Draco mentally traced out the shape. Of course, it looked nothing like a woman, but that was what the imagination was for, anyways.

His strokes gradually became slower as he allowed his mind to wander and trace out each of the constellations in the sky. Libra, Scorpio, Orion, Delphinus, and hundreds more glittered in the inky black sky. They were all beautiful in their own special way.

These were the only places where he got time to himself. Away from his overbearing mother, away from Hera’s scrutinizing glares, away from Apollo’s stupid flirting and his leers, especially away from all of the other gods and goddesses alike who pined over him. And that nickname. Kouroi. Draco shuddered to himself in disgust.

It wasn’t as if he was entirely unwilling to find a spouse. No, Draco would absolutely love to find the one that was right for him (that is, if they even existed). All he wanted was someone who would love him for who he was, not because he was just a beautiful virgin. He wanted someone who would actually be faithful, and not sleep around like his own father did. As far as Draco was concerned, nobody had met his requirements, so he was not taking anybody. Besides, it wasn’t as if his mother would just send him off to anybody, anyways. She was even more adamant about him remaining a virgin that he was, and that was saying something.

He sighed and shook his head lightly. He came here to escape from everything, not to brood. Besides, it was daybreak was just in a few hours and he would have to leave before his mother discovered that he was missing.

He looked up into the vast night sky and started to trace out the constellations again. Cancer, Aquila, Apus, Pisces…

The stars looked especially beautiful tonight. Draco whispered it into the cool air, and he swore that they gleamed a bit brighter at him.

The folded strap of his ivory chiton had slipped off of his shoulder, revealing his pale chest to the world. His long hair was already coming out of the braid he had put it in earlier that day. He had taken off his leather sandals and placed them on the ground to dry when the sun was still high in the mid-afternoon sky (he had gone to explore some nearby ponds a few hours before). His sacred crown, made of interwoven laurel leaves and cloudberry stems, had been thrown haphazardly to the ground beside him – he hated wearing it, but his mother insisted. Despite the fact that he was less than presentable at the moment, Draco had never felt happier.

(II)

When the moon started to wane in the slowly-brightening sky, Draco sighed bitterly. It was time to go back already. If he had his way, Draco would choose to remain in the fields for eternity, simply picking flowers and watching the sky fade and morph into bright, beautiful colors. Alas, that wasn’t the case, and he didn’t have a choice in his situation.

He stood up and stretched his slightly cramped muscles, groaning softly when his blood rushed unto his stiff muscles. His chiton was a bit wrinkled, but with a snap of his fingers it straightened itself out and artfully positioned the folded strip of silk back onto his shoulder. He braided his hair again, wore his crown and laced up his sandals. He was back to being Kouroi again. Not Draco. Kouroi. Gods, he hated that name.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He needed to focus well in order to teleport. Usually, he would morph into a dove and fly away, but he had lingered for too long this time. As soon as he concentrated solely on his essence, blinding flash of light appeared, and Draco winked out of existence.

A fraction of a second later, he re-appeared just on the outside of Mount Olympus, and in front of the Gate of Clouds. As usual, all three Horae** were at guard. Although they were sisters, it was easy to tell them apart. Thallo’s chocolate brown hair was in a neat bun, and she wore a dress made of rainbow beams and flower petals. Auxo’s curly, auburn hair was interwoven with borrowed bits of sunlight and pieces of the summertime sky into two neat braids. Carpo was the most serious looking of the three, and she was the only one who was holding her spear properly. Her simple, but beautiful tunic was covered by her chestnut-brown peplos.

“Draco, how are you?” Auxo smiled at him warmly. Carpo scowled.

“I strongly advice that you cease this behavior, Draco. Your little escapades will not go unnoticed for long.”

“Oh, get your head out of your arse, sister.” Auxo rolled her eyes. Carpo’s scowl only deepened.

“Not again.” Thallo sighed, pinching the bridge of her freckled nose. “Good morning Draco. Do come inside already, although Carpo is right. You do need to be more careful.” With a wave of her hand, the gates opened, revealing the beauty and glory of Mount Olympus.

Draco smiled and rolled his eyes at the three of them. “I promise I will. I’ll see you three later!”

He waved them goodbye as he flew into the open gates, Auxo and Carpo’s arguing fading behind him.

Olympus was a glorious place. Even Draco couldn’t deny it. Each mountain ridge had buildings and houses more beautiful than the last. It was a blur of polished marble, pure gold and hundreds, if not thousands, of deities who all lived there at least some of the time, if not always. Draco knew of some gods who only came to Olympus to visit others, or to trade goods. He often wished he could be one of them.

Thankfully, the gold-paved streets were mostly empty since it was still quite early. There were some stragglers, most likely a few minor deities trying to get to marketplace early enough.

He mostly kept to the shadows whenever he could, slipping in between buildings and walking against the stone and marble walls. He had done this many times, and he already knew the route by heart. Two lefts, a right turn, a forward on the marble crossroads and going through the tall grass field all the way to his home. The palace he and his mother shared. It was located in the nook of one of the northern ridges, not too far from the Pantheon.

As he made his way through the long, bare streets, he let his mind drift to other events. Like Aphrodite’s party. He honestly couldn’t even remember why she was hosting it in the first place, but Aphrodite seized any chance she got to hold parties, so he wasn’t surprised. As usual, all of the gods on Olympus were invited, as well as several nymphs and elemental spirits. Her parties were always the most lavish out of all the Olympians’, and Draco was expecting at least a thousand people to attend.

He found himself in the green fields a few minutes later, the tall grass reaching up and tickling his knees gently. In the distance, he could see his mother’s palace standing tall and proud, the early morning sunlight reflecting off of the golden rooftops. On its sides, it was surrounded by flowers of every kind, ranging from aquamarine roses to orange sunflowers. That was mostly his own doing.

A butterfly landed his shoulder as he approached the mansion, making him smile. They were always attracted to him for some reason. Probably because he always smelled like flowers.

When he finally arrived at the mansion, he sat at the front door step and breathed in the fresh air. His legs were aching a bit, and-

“Kouroi!” He jumped and spun around. Standing behind him, in her ethereal glory, was his mother. Her cacao eyes blazed with godly fury, and her skin was starting to glow a bit. Draco tsked in his mind. She always was quick to her temper.

“Mother.” He smiled, putting a mask of innocence on his face. If he was going to pretend, he needed to do it well. His mother was scarily good as smelling out lies.

“What were you doing outside? At this time? The sun had not even risen fully!”

“I was just testing out some new flowers I created, mum. I think that I may have found a way to create grains just from their blossoms!” He said excitedly, hoping she would buy into it.

Just as he expected, his mother’s eyes lit up. She was crazy about anything that had to do with cereals. He knew it was because of her godly powers, but Draco liked to call it madness.

“Really? Did you finally ask one of the field spirits to help you?”

Draco snorted mentally. The last time he had talked to a field spirit, things had not gone well. At all. Several terse words had exchanged, and he had never talked to another one of them after that.

To say the least, Draco did not have any sort of good relationship with any of the field spirits. Or the forest nymphs. Or the water fairies. The list went on and on. They all complained that he was too ‘arrogant’ and ‘selfish’ to relate with them well. How was it his fault that they were all too stupid to understand what he was teaching them? Not everybody had the patience of Hestia, especially not him. That was one (and most likely the only) thing he and his mother had in common.

“Yes, and they agreed to teach me. It will take some time, but I’m sure I can master it.” He said sweetly. His mother smiled brightly at him and leaned down to give him a soft kiss on his forehead. Her blond hair brushed his forehead. It smelled strongly of freshly baked bread, for some odd reason.

“I’m so proud of you, o gios mou.” She said proudly. “You should go inside, though. We can practice in the afternoon before we go to Aphrodite’s party.”

Draco bit back a grimace. Practicing with his mother meant several hours of intense concentration, staying in the hot sun and generally feeling miserable. Ugh.

At least he had the party to look forward to.

Chapter Text

(I)

It was almost time for the party, and Draco had nothing to wear. There were countless different outfits in his wardrobe, each one more beautiful than the last. There were his cloudy, translucent himations that were made of morning dew and enticingly showed off his godly body. There were the chitons made of gentle springtime winds and white rose petals that caressed his skin like a teasing fingertip. There were even some robes spun from brilliant gold thread and woven electrum threads that sparkled in the sunlight and would surely make him stand out in the crowd (despite the fact that he hated people pining over him, he did like to show-off a quite a bit). It was just that… none of them were right. He loved wearing them, but they just weren’t right.

He groaned in frustration and pushed them all aside. He barely had an hour left and he was no closer to finding an outfit than he was thirty minutes ago. If his meddling mother hadn’t decided to teach him useless skills throughout the afternoon, he definitely would have had more time to find something better to wear.

After a few minutes of tense deliberation, he decided to wear one of his newer himations. It was the color of a frothy river in the midday sun and had small tufts of fluffy clouds sewn into it. It was also spun with a bit of silver, which would give it an extra gleam when he stood in a light. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do.

As his wind servants whooshed into the room to take away his himation and straighten it out, he slipped out of his current robes and sat in front of his charmed water mirror, which never rippled or spilled out of its crystal frame. His pale skin was unblemished and milky; his waist length, golden hair was shiny and silky; his lithe frame was slender and curved at the right places. Draco knew that he was beautiful and a bit exotic.

One of his wind servants floated up to him with a silver platter filled with all of his skincare products; fresh honey from the Thiriae* mixed with ambrosia to cleanse his skin, olive oil made from the sacred olives in Athena’s trees to moisturize his body (if he had flirted with some earth spirits to help him steal some, well, nobody had to know) and crushed wine-colored berries mixed with warm beeswax to give his lips a rosy tint.

As he rubbed the honey mixture onto his face, he pondered idly about the party itself. Aphrodite would definitely overdo it, as she tended to do, but there were a few, ridiculous rumors going around that she had managed to invite to invite the God of the Underworld himself. Draco snorted quietly to himself. As if. It was known everywhere that he was a recluse, and Draco could bet his whole wardrobe that it was just a stupid rumor and nothing more. The day he ever saw the Lord of the Dead was the day that he would eat his own robes.

Next was the olive oil. It was warm and freshly made, and he poured a generous amount from the pitcher into his hands before he rubbed it onto his face, over the honey. Normally, he would wait for it to set by itself, but there wasn’t any more time for that (thanks to somebody), so he summoned a cool breeze from his fingertips to quickly cool down the mask and make it harden. Once it was set, he gently scratched off a small part, before peeling the entire mask off. It hurt a bit, but beauty was pain, after all.

Once he had peeled off the mask, he knew that it was worth it. His face had a soft, ethereal glow to it, and his cheeks were tinted golden from the ichor that had rushed into his face. He looked like… like, well, a god.

In the rest of the hour, he dabbed the crushed mulberries onto his lips, lined his eyes with powdered charcoal and soaked his hands, legs and hair in basins of goat milk, rose petals and rosemary. He dried his hair with a warm wind and wore it loose, only tucking a small lotus flower behind his ear. He rubbed his ears and wrists in spring water infused with the fragrance of lilies and jasmines. Then, he rubbed powdered gold onto his cheeks, just to give them an extra shine. Lastly, he slipped on his crown and charmed the cloudberries stems to sprout their sunset red and pumpkin orange berries.

By the time he slipped on his robe, it was already time for the party to start. Of course, he would arrive fashionably late, like he always did. He needed to make sure that there were enough people to witness his grand entrance.

His mother would probably just wear the formal, yellow robes she always wore for parties. Draco wished that she would let him style her outfit at least once. She needed some serious fashion advice, and the only person she would ever listen to about that sort of thing was him, anyways. He was sure that she had left ages ago; she had stopped waiting for him decades ago when she realized that it wasn’t worth it. Well, that was what she claimed, anyways.

He stood up from his cushioned seat and stretched, wincing slightly as the ichor rushed to all the parts of his body. He summoned his cattle-skin sandals, the ones that had been dyed white and stretched up his calves. They would go well with his outfit.

Finally, he was ready for the party. The sun had already set a while ago, and if he had to estimate, he was about half an hour late. That wasn’t much, anyways. Aphrodite’s parties lasted for days, sometimes even weeks on end. Her parties were almost up to par with Dionysus’ own. Those ones were something else entirely.

He ran a hand through his hair and floated out of his room, humming idly. He went all the way through the large palace until he reached the grand front entrance. The sun was almost out of sight, and he could already see the moon starting to rise in the sky. He held back a groan. Apollo was definitely going to be at the party, then. While Draco admittedly did enjoy a bit of playful flirting, Apollo always took it too far for his liking. He was simply a menace and a koróido.**

With a sigh, he left the entrance and made his way to Aphrodite’s grand palace.

(II)

Aphrodite’s palace glowed beautifully in the dark blue sky. Pastel colored lights illuminated the interior, giving it a soft glow in the dark. There were many people mingling outside, some more drunk than others. He was fairly sure that at least one of them were naked. Probably a minor god and a nymph. He shook his head at their childish antics.

As he approached the grand doors, he smirked as he sensed several heads turning to watch him in awe. Even though they were all drunk on godly wine, the movement still flattered him. Now, as long as none of them tried any funny business, he would be fine.

The golden doors were open, and he slipped inside. He stopped in his tracks for a moment, just taking in the scene in awe. There were brilliant rainbows raining down from the ceiling and several corners, lighting up the dark room and coloring everybody’s faces. There were hundreds of people; some at the wine table, some on the railing of the second floors, waving and chatting happily; some even flying and hanging from the chandeliers. Loud, jaunty music blared, most likely from the satyrs and the dancing faeries in the middle of the room. It was chaotic, and Draco absolutely-

“Kouroi!” Before he knew it, a tan arm slipped around his waist and dragged him into an empty space, away from the main room where everybody was dancing and grinding on each other. He was quickly, but gently, backed against a wall.

He sighed and looked up, raising an eyebrow dryly. “Apollo.”

To be fair, Apollo did look nice. He was wearing a short yellow-orange chiton that glowed softly, which made Draco guess that it was sewn from sunrise beams. His brown leather sandals ran up to his knees, and there was a bit of yellow glitter on his face. It was a simple outfit, but a very good looking one. Not that Draco would ever admit that, Apollo’s ego was already big enough, as it was.

“How are you, love?” Apollo crooned. His grip on Draco’s waist tightened ever so slightly.

“Don’t call me that.” Draco said, slightly annoyed. “And let go of me.”

Apollo slowly released his waist. “Fine then, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart?”

“It’s either that or ‘love.’” Apollo smirked. Draco sighed and resisted the urge to rub a hand down his face. It would ruin his look, and he was not re-applying his face cosmetics all over again because of a little flirting.

“Fine. Whatever. Leave me alone.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to talk to you.”

“But I want to talk to you, love.” He pouted. He looked annoyingly cute.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Fine. We’ll talk for ten minutes and nothing more.”

Apollo’s face lit up. “Yay! Let’s go outside. It’s too noisy here.”

He dragged Draco outside by his arm. However, as Draco walked out, he could have sworn that he saw a sharp flash of green in his side vision. When he turned to look at it properly, it was gone.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

(I)

Harry hated the stares that he was getting. He knew that him coming out of the Underworld was very strange, not to talk about the fact that it was for a mere party (he mentally cursed Aphrodite again), but so what? How dare they gawk at him? Him, the Lord of the Underworld? He could easily crush all of their souls with a simple command, and he could make their lives miserable with just a snap. They were in no position to act as if they were on his level.

“Es kòrakas.”* He snarled at a nymph that was approaching where he was standing, and she squealed as she ran away back to her group. Her friends chattered nervously around her and scattered like mice when Harry bared his teeth at them. Foolish creatures. He was about to look around for more koprìas*, but he stopped when he noticed his little god standing not too far away.

Harry was entranced. His little darling looked heavenly. His lithe body was wrapped in a beautiful, glimmering himation, and he literally glowed under the multicolored lights coming from above. His long hair wasn’t in any braids this time, and his loose blonde locks framed his face like a gold picture frame. His lips were rouged, his skin was smooth and supple, and his lovely, shaped calves were wrapped in his white sandals. He was perfect.

Harry’s breath suddenly became rapid and ragged, and he couldn’t help but imagine what lay underneath his darling’s beautiful outfit. Harry wanted to drag him away, rip off his clothes and ravish him, as if Harry was a wild animal and his darling was a rabbit that was ensnared in his trap. His beautiful darling would always beg so sweetly, never wanting Harry to stop and always pleading so prettily for more.

The thought made a slight shiver run down his body.

Unfortunately, his darling was with Apollo at the moment, and they were quite close to each other. Too close for Harry’s liking. Harry clenched his jaw as he saw Apollo’s grip on his darling’s waist tighten ever so slightly. That unfortunate little wretch. He bit the inside of his cheek and calmed himself down. If he acted out now, he would ruin his entire reputation just because of Apollo. He could never allow that happen to himself.

He only watched intently as Apollo dragged his darling out of the corner they were in, and out of the palace entirely. He caught a glimpse of his darling’s exasperated, silver eyes as they momentarily flashed towards him. Harry froze. The moment their gaze met, he was sure that-

“Harry!” He was knocked out of his train of thought when a small, soft hand tapped his shoulder. He spun around, about to blast the foolish person away, but he froze when he saw that it was just Hestia.

“Hello, Harry.” She smiled softly. She looked beautiful, even though she was only wearing a modest chiton, a veil on her auburn hair and brown sandals.

“Tia. How are you?” He smiled, squeezing her hand fondly. Out of all of his horrible siblings, she was the only one that he genuinely liked. She was kind, beautiful and all together a wonderful person to be around. A much better person than him, to be honest.

“I’m fine. How are Ron and Hermione?”

“They’re alright and send you their greetings.”

She laughed. “Alright, help me greet them as well. I must be on my way now, as I just came to check up on you. Do make sure that you don’t get into too much trouble, alright?”

Harry snorted. “You should be telling that to Dionysus, not me.” He looked pointedly at Dionysus, who was holding at least six glasses of wine in his hands. He already looked drunk, even though it hadn’t even been up to three hours since the party had started.

She sighed in exasperation. “Let me go get him before he does anything he’ll regret later on.”

“Good luck. He’s already started to gather some drunk satyrs. He’s probably going to hold another keg stand contest.”

She groaned and went after him, leaving Harry alone next to one of the numerous wine tables in the room. He grabbed one of the glasses and downed it without a second thought. It was a mix of Dionysus’s signature wine and a hint of nectar, making it sweeter.

He sighed to himself and placed the glass back on the table. He was already getting tired of staying in the spotlight, even though it had barely been a few hours since he arrived.

He decided to head out to the back of the house, where he knew there was a large garden there. It was warded off everybody but Aphrodite’s siblings and servants. It would probably be empty.

With that, he stood up and left the room, only pausing to grab a sage and poppy seed cigar from a refreshment table. He would definitely need it, anyways.

(II)

Just as Harry expected, the garden was empty and quiet. It was more of a maze, to be fair, and the tall hedges formed wide paths and forks for any wandering passerby. It would be perfect for him to hide himself in.

He walked under the overbearing iron gateway and took several random turns until he was sure that he was lost in the blooming rose hedges and the pointed iron poles poking out of them. The path was wide enough for several people to stand in it side-by-side, which was just what Harry needed. The only thing that illuminated his path was the twinkling stars and the full moon in the indigo sky, as well as the flashing lights from Aphrodite’s palace.

He sighed deeply and conjured a makeshift throne for him to sit on. It wasn’t nearly as grand as the one back in the Underworld, but it would have to do. It was still beautiful, as it was made of threads of inky darkness, shiny obsidian and little flecks of molten lava. It glowed ominously in the dark.

He sat on it and groaned softly as his body finally relaxed. This was familiar, this was comfortable, this was his nature. Settling into his royal throne, ruling over everybody in his world and crushing any opposition with a simple command.

He lit his cigar by lowering it to a glowing piece of magma next to his arm. It caught quickly and lit on fire, igniting a small flame that warmed his cold fingers. He took a deep inhale of it and savored the fumes in his lungs, before breathing out the fragrant smoke. Unlike the mortals, he could do this for as long as he wanted without suffering any after effects, unlike the way their throats became torn or the way their lungs shriveled up like a wilting seedling. He snorted. Pathetic.

As he smoked, he closed his eyes and let his mind wander away, to his realm, to his little darling, to-

“Harry.” Harry exhaled and opened his eyes. Standing in front of him was Zeus himself.

His brother looked a bit older than when Harry had last seen him, although to be fair, the last time they had met was over a century ago. His salt-and-pepper hair was in a bun at the back of his head, and his beard was as bushy as ever.

“It’s ‘Hades’ to you, Zeus.” Harry said calmly, sitting up straighter. Zeus snorted.

“I’m your brother, Harry, not your servant.”

“Actually, my servants call me ‘Lord Hades’, but that doesn’t matter now, does it?”

Zeus rolled his eyes. He summoned a small throne, just like Harry had, and sat down on it with a big oomph. Unlike Harry’s, Zeus’ throne was made of ivory and gold.

“What do you want?” Harry asked, cutting straight to the case. He wasn’t in the mood to talk do anybody at the moment, especially not his meddling brother.

“I’ve seen the way you look at my son, Harry.” Zeus’ voice had a slight tone of amusement in it.

“Your son?” Harry asked, cocking an eyebrow. The only person he had been looking at was-

Shit.

“Yes, my son. Kouroi.” Zeus threaded his fingers with each other and leaned forward.

“So? What about it?”

“I know that you want him.”

Harry fought the urge to kick something. “Doesn’t matter.”

Zeus grinned. “Oh, but it does. You’ll never get him if Demeter has her way.”

“Demeter?”

Zeus’ grin widened. “His mother. I can’t believe you’re so behind, Harry.”

Harry gripped his cigar tightly and took another puff. How was his little darling the result of his vile siblings?

“When did you hook up with Demeter?”

Zeus’ grin turned dark, and Harry momentarily wondered just what he had done do her.* “Quite a while ago. But that doesn’t matter now, does it?”

Harry didn’t miss the use of his own words being thrown back at him. He clenched his jaw and counted to three in his head, before he said something that he would regret later on.

“If you don’t have anything more to say, then you can leave. I wish to be alone.” Harry said.

“I just came to give you permission to take him.”

Harry faltered. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You can take him. I’ve given you permission as his father and the head of his family.”

Harry kept quiet for a full minute before he spoke up again. “Thank you for your time Zeus. Please leave me be now.”

Thankfully, Zeus got the cue. He winked at Harry and vanished into thin air, leaving his throne behind to disintegrate into small particles of light.

Harry was going to need to think very carefully about what he did next.

Chapter Text

(I)

As the party slowly started to draw to an end, Draco found himself being dragged back to the house by his irate mother.

“Mother!” Draco whined, quickening his pace so he could match her speed. “Why are we leaving? It’s not over yet!”

“Don’t think that I didn’t see you and Apollo, Kouroi,” she said, her voice low and threatening. “He was all over you and you didn’t even try to push him off!”

Draco scoffed. “Apollo is harmless, mother. I know how to handle him if he crosses the line. And please slow down, my new robes are getting wrinkled even more!”

She sighed in exasperation but reduced her pace. Draco could see their house in the distance, standing majestically in the midnight blue sky. The lights were on, which meant that the servants were probably cleaning up the house and preparing it for their arrival. The party had lasted for several days, after all.

“You know I’m just worried about you, agoraki mou,” his mother sighed. She smiled softly and loosened her grip on his arm.

Despite himself, Draco flushed softly. “I know, mother. It’s just… you tend to overdo it sometimes.”

To his surprise, she laughed, “Ah, I can be overbearing sometimes. I hope I don’t annoy you too much.”

She did, but Draco wasn’t about to tell her that and ruin her surprisingly good mood. “Of course not, mother.”

“Alright, Kouroi. Let’s go home and get some rest, alright?”

Draco nodded and breathed his mother’s scent. “Yes mother.”

(II)

Draco couldn’t sleep.

It had been a few hours since he and his mother had gotten home, and he was bored out of his mind. His mother had retired to her bedroom the minute they arrived, leaving Draco all by himself. He had tried sleeping but gave up after an hour. Where was Hypnos when you needed him?

He sighed and pulled off the silk covers from his body. The orange-red glow of the sunrise lit up his room and tinted his skin to warm shades of peach and honey. He slipped off his night gown and stretched widely, grimacing as his bones cracked and shifted back into place from lying down for so long. Since his mother was fast asleep (and would probably be so for the next few hours, at least) this would be the perfect opportunity to sneak down to his little meadow in the mortal world. Nobody would disturb him, and he could stay for as long as he liked.

He quickly pulled one of his older chitons that had faded over the centuries. There was no way in Hades he would ever go frisking about in his new clothes. His mother would kill him if she ever found out.

He hastily grabbed his cloudberry wreath as the wind spirits helped him put on his sandals and braided his hair into a messy plait that stopped at his waist. When they finished, he bade them farewell as he sped out of the house and towards the tall grass fields and the marble streets that would lead him to the market square.

As usual, the square was empty this early in the morning save for some early risers who had started to stock up their stalls with their goods. The warm, sweet scent of ambrosia teased his nose and Draco impulsively decided to stop and get some freshly baked cakes before he headed down to earth.

The soft glow of the early morning sun shone on all the gold bricks and outlines of the square, reflecting broken beams of golden light that made it look even more ethereal than usual.

“Good morning Kouroi! What would you like today?” Phillina, one of Draco’s few nymph friends, was behind the stand. Draco smiled and walked up to her.

“Good morning Phillina. How are you?”

She shrugged and pushed back her short, lead-colored hair. “I’ve been alright, although I’ve been meaning to come here for a while. It’s been a while since I’ve sold any ambrosia cakes this season.”

Draco hummed. “Can I have five of those, actually?”

“That would be six drachmas,” she said absently, moving to the back of the stand to bring out more cakes.

“Six?! That’s a scam, Phillina.”

“Oh, fine, I’ll make it five. But just this one time, alright?” Phillina had met him a few decades ago when he had ruined her pasture by practicing his then-abysmal skills on it (although, in his defense, how was he meant to know that it belonged to her?) and they had argued for over an hour before Draco’s mother had separated them. She had forced them to become friends (albeit reluctantly) but eventually the bond had become genuine.

“Here you go, and make sure you get back before your mother finds you. You spend an awful amount of time down there.”

Draco scowled as he handed her the coins. “How did you know where I was going?”

She rolled her eyes. “Kouroi, anybody with common sense would be able to figure it out. That being said, I don’t know how you’ve managed to keep it from your mother this long.”

“Whatever. Have a nice day, Phillina.”

“You too Kouroi!”

The heavenly smell of the ambrosia cakes made Draco’s mouth water, and before he could stop himself he stuffed one into his mouth. He nearly groaned out loud; the sweet taste of ambrosia and the soft bit of nectar were simply divine. And Phillina had even put some warm honey in the centers that oozed out slowly and made his mouth a sweet, sticky mess.

He quickly finished it off and looked around to make sure that nobody had seen him. Thankfully, nobody was watching him, and he used the opportunity to swipe and lick away the rest of the honey that had seeped onto his mouth and chin.

He closed the bag, promising to save the rest for later, and made his way to the Gate of Clouds. However, only two of the Horae were at guard: Thallo and Carpo.

“Good morning, Kouroi. How are you?” Thallo smiled warmly.

“I’m alright. Where is Auxo?”

“Still at Aphrodite’s party,” Carpo sighed, rolling her eyes.

Draco laughed. “I’m not surprised. Anyways, I’ll see both of you in a few hours!”

“Alright, but make sure you stay safe!”

“And come back before curfew!” Carpo called out.

“There is no curfew, Carpo! I’ll come back whenever I want,” he jested, sticking his tongue out rudely and crossing his eyes.

“Why you little-“ She lunged for him, but he smirked and teleported away a fraction of a second before she caught him.

He would have to deal with that later, but for now he could relax.

(III)

Draco smiled to himself as he stroked the wings of a butterfly that had landed on his hair. Its wings were black and red, and they looked magnificent. Its antennae bobbed happily as he rubbed its head affectionately. It was very warm, for some reason, but he didn’t mind.

Now that he was alone, he could think about everything he wanted to. At the moment, what was troubling him the most was the increasing number of people asking for his hand in marriage. Just over the past few weeks, several more gods had started to leave him gifts periodically in hopes of winning his heart. Not just Apollo, but even Hermes, Ares and countless other minor gods who had merely spotted him from afar. It deeply troubled him that even Ares was willing to leave Aphrodite in order to court him, and Hermes even offered him his sacred caduceus as a gift.

They all paled in comparison to Apollo, however, who had persistently pursued him for longer than he could remember and had offered him a numerous amount of valuable gifts almost every day. He did like the attention sometimes, but it was quickly starting to become overbearing. Besides, the only reason they wanted him was because of his beauty. If they had actually bothered to speak to him and get to know bit, he could have possibly considered them, but they only lusted after his looks.

For once, he understood what his mother was so worried about.

“What do you think?” He asked the small, unassuming butterfly. Its antennae twitched and bobbed happily, totally unaware of the mini crisis Draco was going through.

Suddenly, the butterfly started to fly and flapped away from his finger. He watched it idly and trailed its path until he realized where it was going. There was an enormous patch of narcissus flowers, which made him gasp. They were extremely rare, and his mother would love to see one of them that had grown naturally! Not to mention that he would have huge bragging rights over the other nymphs who annoyed him.

He left his crown behind, and didn’t bother to fix his hair or his chiton either. When he got to the flowers, he took a moment to merely admire them before bending down to pluck some.

(IV)

Draco couldn’t have anticipated what happened next. One moment, he was smelling some flowers, and the next the ground had split open and literally spilled out heat and molten rocks from the depths of the Underworld.

He screamed and stumbled backwards as a large chariot (which was being pulled by shadow horses) rose out of the ground. The only person in it was a large figure, covered completely in black iron armor.

Draco scrambled upwards and started to run away, but a large hand suddenly grasped his upper arm and yanked him backwards, and into the chariot.

“Let me go, you bdelyròs!” He screamed, kicking and biting and fighting as wildly as he could. The stranger’s grip didn’t loosen, and in fact the arm wrapped itself around his waist and held him firmly.

To Draco’s horror, the horses started to gallop – back into the Underworld.

“Let me go! Mother! Father!” He screamed, trying his best to fight his way out. He knew that his father would be able to hear him, so why wasn’t he helping him?

His attempts were futile, and as the chariot dove into the earth, the large crack above him sealed shut and cut off all the sunlight from reaching him.

As the light faded from his eyes, the last thing he saw was a pair of piercing green eyes that seemed to stare directly into his soul.

Chapter Text

(I)

The first thing Draco realized when he woke up was that he was not, in fact, in his garden back on Olympus but in a room that was lit only by several lamps in the corners of the walls that looked like they were filled with… magma?

He did a double take, before standing up from the bed he was on (which was covered with black sheets, of all colors) and looking around wildly. The room was quite large and furnished comfortable, although all the furniture, the decorations and everything was some shade between black and even darker black. The only other color he could see was some shade of dark maroon, which did nothing to make him feel better.

He delicately placed his bare feet on the smooth black floor, wincing as the warmth of it startles him. It was… pleasant, but startling. He cautiously put them on the tiles again, forcing himself to relax. The pulsing heat made him sigh involuntarily.

He stood up and ignored the aches in his protesting legs as he walked along the walls of the room, looking curiously at the strange things in it. From the floating lava lamps on the ceiling to the weird human skull on the bedside table that had an unlit, melted candle in it (that Draco suspected was actually a real skull), nothing in this room whatsoever reminded him of Olympus, and especially not his mother’s palace.

Wait.

The palace, him leaving Olympus, the meadow, the earth splitting into two-

And then, as if the Fates were watching (and surely planning something cruel for him), the memories of the day before came rushing into his mind.

He froze for a moment, before springing off of the bed and recoiling in shock, and in anger. His brain was moving at thousands of stadia per second but the first thing that he processed was the amount of rage pouring into him. How dare anyone try to kidnap him? And no matter who it was in the Underworld (although he had quite a hulking suspicion on who it was), how dare they have the audacity to take him, out of his meadow? How did they even know where to find him in the first place?

He looked around at the dark room until his eyes land on an entrance out of the room that certainly hadn’t been there before, covered by several thin, translucent curtains.

With a small burst of green light in the air, the curtains ripped themselves off the wall and fluttered gently to the ground as Draco stormed out of the room, his billowing white robes flying after him.

(II)

“Come out, you coward!”

Draco stomped through the seemingly endless corridors, his magic ripping all the tapestries to shreds and even destroying some of the floating chandeliers.

Draco was mad. No, he was furious, fuming, rageful. He was going to find whoever dared to kidnap him and rip them apart into pieces and-

“Excuse me?”

Draco paused and looked down at the direction of the voice. Standing in front of him was a little girl who couldn’t have been more than a few years old. Her dark brown hair was combed and put into two neat buns, although Draco could see some curls sticking out of them.

“Why are you yelling, sir? And who are you?” She asked, politely.

Draco sighed. As angry as he was, he wasn’t cruel enough to dismiss a mere child.

“My name is Kouroi. And do you know why I’m here?”

“Uh, no, but I can ask my dad!” She piped up, cheerfully. She opened her mouth to talk again, but she was interrupted by a much older voice.

“Rose! I told you not to go to the grand chambers!” A middle-aged looking woman, who had a striking resemblance to her daughter (or Rose, Draco supposed) appeared from at the entrance of the hallway where Draco had come from. She paused once she spotted Draco.

“Excuse me, who are you?”

Draco sneered at her. His kindness didn’t extend much to adults, especially ones who were involved with his kidnapping. The thought of it made him angry again.

“My name is Kouroi and I demand that you release me this instant! How dare you?”

Instead of giving him an answer, she merely cocked her head. “Excuse me?”

“Stop playing innocent! Show me the exit now! Or I’ll make you wish you- ”

Suddenly, her face paled, right in the middle of Draco’s rant. But instead of showing him to get out of wherever the hell he was, she just muttered “Oh god, Hades.”

Draco froze. Hades was the one who kidnapped him? Hades, lord of the dead and ruler of the Underworld?

“Hades did this to me?”

The lady instantly tried to backtrack, but Draco pushed past her and stormed out the way she had come in.

How dare he?

Draco didn’t care that he was powerful. He was going to destroy him.

Chapter Text

(I)

Harry sighed to himself as the soul in front of him begged and pleaded not to go to the Fields of Punishment despite the fact that he had murdered his entire family while they were sleeping. Even without the heinous crime on shoulders, Harry was already more than used to dealing with temper tantrums. He had been doing this for thousands of years, after all.

“Take him away,” he muttered, already flipping to the next piece of parchment in front of him. There was an unusually large stack today, although there weren’t any wars going on. Well, Harry didn’t think there were any, but he rarely kept up with news from the mortal world anymore, aside from the occasional demigod and/or hero that killed hundreds of monsters and saved innocents and automatically had a place saved for them in Elysium. Harry snorted. If Zeus could actually keep it in his pants for once, he would eat his cap of invisibility.

“Lord Hades?” Harry snapped out of his thought to see King Aeacus staring at him, with slight concern in his eyes.

“Hm?” He hummed, dipping his reed pen into the ink pot next to him to sign the document with a small flourish. Just like the hundreds of other ones he had done that day.

He sighed again.

“Are you alright, my Lord? You seem quite pre-occupied with something.”

Harry shook his head nonchalantly as he straightened out the stack of parchment in front of him. “I’m alright. Just terribly bored.”

Aeacus snorted in a rather un-kingly manner. “Understandable. Next!”

The guards dragged in a woman who was holding her head high, for some reason. If Harry was in a sour mood, he would have instantly blasted her to the Asphodel Meadows for her insolence. But seeing that he was bored out of his mind, he allowed her to stay. For now.

As the judges read out the significant deeds she had performed, Harry found himself closing his eyes and dreaming about something… or someone, in particular.

“Lord Hades?” Harry’s eyes snapped open to see the three kings staring at him. “Your vote, my Lord?”

“Asphodel,” he said. To be truthful, he hadn’t been paying attention at all to the woman, but Asphodel was where a majority of the souls he judged went to, so it was the safest option.

The three judges nodded, and Harry smirked to himself. However, before he could move on to the next soul, the woman shook herself in the guard’s hands and began to shout. At him.

“How dare you? I know fully well that I deserve to be in Elysium, you-“

With a wave of his hand, the woman fell silent. Harry raised an eyebrow at her. Well, at least there was something happening today, no matter how unpleasant it was.

“Lord Hades, shall we banish her now?” King Minos asked, already starting to rise in his seat in anger. Harry’s smirk widened.

“In a minute. Let me just…” He siphoned some dark magic from the depths of his robe, before flicking it onto the woman. The ribbons of dark magic wrapped around the woman, and the three kings started to sit straight in anticipation.

However, after a few seconds, the black magic sunk into her flesh, with nothing happening after that. The kings, who were waiting in excitement (clearly, Harry’s bloodthirst had rubbed off on them), frowned when nothing happened to the woman.

“My Lord?” King Rhadamanthus asked, sinking back into his chair.

Harry grinned. “Take her to the Fields.” He motioned to his ghoulish guards, who nodded and dragged the woman into the depths of Tartarus, ignoring her threats and screams.

When her voice was out of hearing range, Minos asked, “My Lord, I am curious, but did you inflict something upon this woman, because your magic seemed to be ineffective on her?”

Harry’s grin turned dark. “It’s something I’ve been working on recently. I call it the Cruciatus Curse.”

“And what does it do, my Lord?”

“It will leave the recipient in endless, unbearable pain until the curse is released by the caster. Which I have no intention of doing, King Aeacus. Not for a long, long time.”

(II)

Harry stretched out his limbs after he left the court room, wincing as his bones cracked loudly. He had left court early, handing his seat over to Thanatos, who was more than used to this. If Harry had to be honest, he would admit that he wasn’t even half as responsible as Thanatos was, and the Underworld would be much more organized with him in charge. But Harry was not honest at all, and there was no way in Tartarus he would even say that to anybody.

Besides, even if he did it wasn’t like anyone would-

“Hades!”

It took all of Harry’s willpower not to jump in shock. That, and several centuries of his training as well.

He turned around, and his eyes widened. Even he couldn’t hide his shock at the sight of his darling Kouroi staring at him with a murderous expression on his face. He was wearing nothing but a flowy white robe that the servants had probably changed him into.

On the inside, Harry was ecstatic. On the outside, however, he merely raised an eyebrow.

“Hello Kouroi,” he nodded, He was about to continue on his way when Kouroi stepped in front of him, glaring. It was a bit of a shock that the two of them were nose to nose, exactly the same height. Harry has naturally assumed that he would be taller than him, but this new development was the opposite of disconcerting. In fact, it was actually quite…

“Why am I here?” Kouroi demanded, crossing his arms and staring at Harry quite intensely.

Harry merely stepped aside and continued walking as he piped up, “Why not?”

Kouroi snarled and moved in front of him again. He looked quite similar to an angel in his rage, with his glowing grey eyes, his long blond hair, his perfectly unblemished skin.

Harry found himself falling even deeper for him.

“Answer my question!”

Instead of answering, Harry sidestepped him yet again and started to hum as he continued down the hallway. And yet again, Kouroi stepped in front of him. Some violently red flowers were starting to bloom on his robes, and Harry became even more endeared with him.

“Answer me, you bdelyròs!”

“You do know that you just called the King of the Underworld a bastard, right?”

Kouroi didn’t even falter or blink. “And I’ll call you worse if you don’t answer my question!”

Harry sighed to himself softly. He might as well answer Kouroi’s question, seeing that he would also like an explanation is he was suddenly kidnapped and trapped far away from his home. Well, not that anyone could kidnap him, seeing that he would simply incinerate them on the spot.

Anyways, he digressed.

“Well, I brought you here because I would like to talk to you. Get to know you, even.”

“So, you chose to kidnap me?!”

“’Kidnap’ is a strong word, you know. I’m simply taking you into my domain for some time.”

The look on Kouroi’s face would have scared the hell out of a lesser man.

“Well, I demand that you allow me to leave!”

“At least have some dinner first, Kouroi.”

“Excuse me, I- “

“Dinner, and I’ll tell you the way out.”

Kouroi looked at him menacingly. “Fine,” he growled. “But if you don’t, I’ll- “

“Destroy me, I know,” Harry smirked. “Follow me. The dining room is this way.”

Chapter Text

So I know that I haven’t been the best at updating this past year (mainly the second half) and I just wanted to apologize to everyone reading my ongoing fics :((

I’m swarmed with a lot of responsibilities right now and I barely have any time to write anymore. I promise I’m trying my best to update as much as I can without getting overwhelmed but I’ve also been having a bit of writer’s block lately which is also not fun :/

I promise that I’m still gonna sporadically update this year as much as I can but next year I’ll be relieved from a lot of my duties so I’ll have a lot more time to update my fics and stick to a schedule that works for me

Again, thank you guys so much for keeping up with me even tho I’m definitely not the best author rn. I love you guys sm :,)) 💖💖💖