Chapter Text
Now… how does it go?
Once upon a time, there was an ending and many many more endings. But our story starts here with a young child, a little girl. Many believe that this child is some sort of hero, a beacon of light and all that is good. Maybe at some point that would had become true… but thanks to the misguided intentions of an old man who thought he knew better but because of him the eyes of a Goddess which wouldn’t turn to her until she reach the age of maturity turn to her much younger… and decided to act.
This act, awaken blood that has laid dorment, awaken to make the girl stronger and powerful so that she may survive. This….is the story of how Evil Finds a Way.
“My Ma says she was found in the remains of a fire that killed her family,” green eyes narrow at this, and small hands go up to bring the hood of her black hoodie up to hide her face.
“Wish the firefighters left her there to burn alongside them,”
“Hey be quiet," one child whispers harshly, “We don't want the witch-girl to hear us! She might come over and do to us what she did to poor Margret!”
The girl rolls her eyes, huffing in annoyance as she leans against the trunk of a tree. “You think things would change after finally getting away from Surrey,” Persephone Iolanthe Potter thought as she eyed the group of children that whispered harsh and cruel things about her.
The girl was a small thing, though she has almost reached her eleventh year. With hair as the darkest night and with the softest curls falling to her shoulders it framed her face quite messily. Her skin was pale as if she never saw the sun and while it was smooth it was marred with a scar that was shaped like lightning. Running down from her hairline it cuts through her eyebrow ending at her left cheek. Her eyes, hidden behind a pair of glasses that were being held together by tape, were a pair of beautiful almond shaped emerald green eyes.
Many people in the small town of Nordberg thought that when the child grew up she would be beautiful. But all agree that the child was… strange. Something about her made them feel uneasy. Maybe it was because of the strange things that would happen around her. It made them think of the story of the Witch-Boy that has been passed down through the generations.
“Hey Witch-girl!” Looking up, Peresphone glares at the group of older boys, teenagers who stomped towards her, “We need to talk about what you did to my little sister!”
“I did nothing to Margret!” Persephone proclaims standing up with her little hands curled into fists. The other boys exchange uneased looks, feeling fear at the way her green eyes seem to glow in the shadows of her hood, “I didn’t even touch her!”
“We all know that isn't the truth, Witch-girl! Weird shit always happens around you!” Persephone grimaces at what the boy, Adam said because it was the truth. Weird and unusual things would happen but it was no good telling people that she didn’t do anything.
One time, the matron of St. Kelda’s Orphanage had grown tired in her attempts to tame Persephone’s hair had taken a pair of kitchen scissors and cut her hair so short she was almost bald except for her bangs, which she left to “hide at least some of that horrible scar,” The other children had laughed themselves silly at Persephone, who spent a sleepless night imagining school the next day where she was terribly bullied. The next morning however, Persephone had woken up to find her hair exactly as it had been. The matron had sworn up a storm swearing she had cut it but she was almost always drunk so hardly anyone had believed her.
Another time, Persephone had gotten into terrible trouble for being found on the roof of the school kitchens. Adam and his little gang had been chasing her as usual when, as much to Persephone’s shock as anyone else, there she was sitting on the chimney.
On the other hand, the reason why she was in Nordberg and not in her old home of Little Whinging was because of something strange. Persephone doesn't really remember, she just knew that her Uncle Vernon was yelling at her, screaming in fury over… something. The next thing Persephone knew was flames, burning hot flames that devoured everything. Only Persephone survived that night and she was shipped off to the closet town with an orphanage that would take her in.
“I know it was you, Witch-girl,” Adam snarls, stomping over to her and grabs her by the collar of her hoodie, “I know it was you who set off those fireworks when Margret was near them! Everybody says you were glaring at them when they were suddenly lit. And I know you were pissed off because she poured chocolate milk onto your head at lunch the other day!” He shakes her slightly before he brings an arm up and curls his hand into a fist, “Your going to pay for the burns you gave her Witch-girl,”
Persephone blinks at him before she smiles, hissing under her breath. Adam sneers at her, “What was that Witch-girl?”
Screams were his answer, Adam snapping over to his friend to see them backing away in fear as a whole bunch of snakes slowly slithering towards them. Adam shivers in disgust and then yelps in fear when one got too close to him, pushing Persephone away from him.
Normally this wouldn't be a problem, as Persephone would have just fallen on her butt. Unfortunately they were very close to the road so instead of the coarse grass, Persephone fell onto hot burning pavement.
The girl only had time to look up, to see the fear and horror in the older kids eyes before Persephone felt a great impact crashing into her, filling her body with great pain.
Blinking, Persephone looks around searching for any familiarity but instead of finding herself in the park of Nordberg she finds only greyness. She lays in a bright thick mist that settles over the hard cold ground she laid upon. It was not mist she had ever experienced before. Her surroundings were not hidden by cloudy vapor; rather the cloudy vapor had not yet formed into the surroundings. The floor on which Persephone laid was sparsely covered with light grey grass while the dirt itself was a darker grey, almost charcoal. It was neither fold nor warm, but simply there. This was a place that Persephone had never seen before.
“How… How did I get here?” She muses with a silent whisper.
“You are here because you were summoned,” Persephone jumps at the light feminine voice that rumble behind her and she turns to see standing before her was a large bipedal wolf sitting upon a huge black onyx throne that had a triangle with a vertical lone and circle in it carved into the back of the throne, glowing slightly silver. Or at least, Persephone thought it was a wolf for their arms were black and skeletal with droplets of something hanging off the tips of their claws.Thick red horns curl around their head framing their face. They were dress in a silver robe that looked to be made of some sort of fluid-like silk material. Some of the fur around the wolf’s eyes were silver in color and they eyes themselves… they were green as Persephone’s own eyes, maybe brighter..
“No… its the same green as the flash of light I see when I try to remember my parent’s death…” she thought before Persephone flinches as the wolf brings their arm up and gesturing for her to come closer.
“Come closer, oh Child of Death, though while you are already dead you have nothing to fear from me,” Swallowing at this, Persephone slowly walked over, earning a grin from the beast. Peresphone couldn’t help but shiver at the sharp fangs that she could see filling their mouth, “I do believe this is all confusing to you, that you have questions,”
Persephone nodded her head, “Where am I? What do you mean that I got summoned here…. Who are you and why did you call me a… Child of Death?”
“We are in Limbo, my dear daughter,” the being chuckles, “It is between all, the gaps of living and dead, the middle to before and after. And I summoned you here because you are my child, a Child of Death,” she chuckles when Persphone shot her a confuse look, “Long ago I met three brothers. They were traveling along a lonely, winding road at twilight. In time, the brothers reached a river too treacherous to pass. But being learned in the magical arts. The three brothers simply waved their wands,”
“Magic isn’t real,” Persephone automatically repeated the sentence her uncle had beaten in her head when she was younger with a grimace. Even after five years since his death she was still affected by his cruel words and fists.
The wolf grins at her words, amuse, “Oh they are real, pup. Your uncle just told you that it wasn’t because he was afraid of the power you wield. What you would do to him and his family once you realize the truth,” Persephone’s eyes widened at this but the wolf continued on, “The three brothers made a bridge with their magic. Before they could cross, however, they found their path blocked by a hooded figure. It was me, Death and I felt cheated. Cheated because travellers would normally drown in the river. But I was cunning,” she chuckles under her breath, “I pretended to congratulate the three brothers on their magic and told them that they have earned a prize for having been clever enough to evade me,”
Her eyes glinted in anger and annoyance, as a growl began to escape her throat, “The oldest asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence. So I fashioned him one from an elder tree that stood nearby. The second brother, though, decided he wanted to humiliate me even further. He asked for the power to recall loved ones from beyond the grave. So plucking a stone from the river and I offer it to him,”
Her face grows soft as she croons, almost as if she was talking about a son, “The third one, when I turned to him I knew he didn’t trusted me. He was humble though, he asked for something that would allow him to go forth from that place without being followed by me. Knowing that he may have caught onto my ploy, I reluctantly handed over a piece of my own cloak of invisibility,"
“The first brother travel to a distant village where, with the Elder Wand in hand, he killed a wizard with whom he had once quarrelled. Drunk with the power that the Elder Wand had given him, he bragged of his invincibility,” Then Death grins, slouching to the left of her throne and cushioning her head with her own hand, “That very night, another wizard stole the wand and slit the brother’s throat for good measure, allowing me to take the first brother as my own. The second brother journeyed home where he took the stone and turned it thrice in his hand. To his delight the girl that he once hoped to marry before her untimely death appeared before him. Yet soon she turned sad and cold for she did not belong in the mortal world. Driven mad with hopeless longing the second brother killed himself so as to join her and so I took the second brother,”
Persephone shivers at this, swallowing before once more Death’s eye glows soft, “As for the third brother, your ancestor Ignotus Peverell… I searched for him for many years but I was never able to find him. Only when he attained a great age did Ignotus shed the Cloak of Invisibility and give it to his son who he then handed over to his you. He then greeted me as an old friend and went with me gladly, departing this life as equals,”
Death leans forward in her throne with her forearms upon her lap and skeletal paws lined in a mocking prayer, “By doing that… I have kept an eye on his descendants and watching as each one soon joined my realm until only one remained… well I just have to act,”
“Act?” Persephone whispers before she yelps as she was suddenly scooped up. The ten year old’s eyes were wide as Death cradles her in her arms, now no longer a giant but still much taller than Persephone’s uncle. Death though smiles and leans forward, nuzzling her.
“Yes act...I have watch you over the years, waiting for someone to come and help you. My anger rising as your pain and heartbreak has been ignored by those who should had been making sure you were taken care of. It took a lot of convincing to the other gods, we are limited on how much we can interfere with mortal affairs. But my wife, Fate said that if I step in, many lives will be save.”
“Saved?” Persephone squeaks, “But… I’m just Persephone… sure I can do somethings but there nothing special about me,”
Death smiles sadly and walked back to the throne, setting Persephone onto her lap, “You are special though I don’t blame you for not knowing it. The truth has been kept from you,” Persephone looks up at Death, who gently strokes her hair, “You my dear are Persephone Iolanthe Potter, daughter of James Fleamont Potter and Lily Marie Potter nee Evans. My soon to be Child of Death and the Gril-Who-Lived,”
Persephone felt like her head was swimming, though she felt please to finally learn the name of her parents, “Child of Death… Girl-Who-Lived?” her face scrunches up at that, “Why am I called the Girl-Who-Lived, of course I’m alive!” She grimaces looking down at her hands, “Or I was… stupid Adam it was just a bunch of snakes. It wasn't like they were going to actually bite them
Death barks out a laugh, pulling her close into a hug and Persephone couldn’t help but cuddle close to her… it honestly felt nice though she knew that adults other than her relatives would be concern that she was cuddling up close against a stranger, “There is a world hidden within the world you know. Its call the Wizarding World or the Magic Community, depending on who you ask. But about twenty years ago, a wizard calling himself Voldemort started gathering followers, those who believe in the same thing. That only those who came from a family who had magic for many years deserve to learn magic. They felt that their way of life and wanted to recreate the the community where those of Pure-Blood would rule while those who came of families who had no magic were killed or thrown in prison for stealing magic,” Death rolls her eyes and scoffs, patting Persephone on the head before she began to ruffle it, apparently amuse on how fluffy it was, “Mother Goddess is the one who decided which mortal has her gift. It is utter rubbish to think that a mortal could steal from her. And true muggleborns are rare, those who are classified as muggleborns are in fact descendents of squibs who had gotten their blood clean from all the inbreeding their ancestors did,”
“But these idiots decided they knew better and started attacking everything they didn’t like and killing everyone that got in their way. Your parents were among those people who stood up and fought against Voldemort,” Death smirks, a chuckle on her lips, “They pissed Voldemort off so much that he decided he wanted them dead, that he needed to kill them himself. Your parents went into hiding but they trusted the wrong person. On the night of Halloween when you were one year old he broke into your home and killed your father. He then proceeded after your mother and you but your mother, she was smart. Using ancient magic that has been long forgotten and what most would call illegal. She gave up her own life so you could live,”
Persephone blinks her eyes, fighting back the tears at hearing this as she swallows the lump of guilt that had formed in her throat. For years, she had hated her parents, for getting drunk and dying in the car crash when she was a baby. For leaving her behind, for leaving her in the hands of the Durleys and then St. Kelda’s. But now to know… that they had only died… so she could live… “and what happened to… Voldemort?”
“He is still out there,” Death growls, lips curling, “He created a Horcrux… more than one. It's a ritual that splits your soul after a murder and then places the broken in an object, which will allow the person who did the ritual survive if their body was destroyed, keeping me from hunting them down because their soul remains earthbound,”
“He lives?!” Persephone whispers, voice dripping in venom as flames of anger licked through her.
“He does, unfortunately,” Death softly pets her head, running her claws through her back strands of hair, “But his days will soon be numbered once you start hunting him,” Persephone brings her gaze up, staring straight at Death without fear, “and he shall regret ever making those disgusting things and coming after you my child. I assure you of that,”
Her ear then twitches, and she leans back, her grin returning, “Finally, they’re here,”
Frowning, Persephone turns and stares at the two figures that walked towards the throne. One was a beautiful woman wearing a golden headress with a grass skirt wrapped around her waist and white she wore nothing to cover herself flowers were acting anything important. Her hair, a beautiful blood red, fell to her hips while her eyes were a brillant gold. Just by looking at her, Persephone couldn’t help but feel warm… safe.
The other though, Persephone couldn’t see his features because he wore a suit of armor except for a pair of glowing yellow eyes. This figure with his steel armor and the red cloak that was drapped over his shoulders, intrested something in Persephone. Meeting his gaze, Persephone could tell that he was amused.
“Its good to see you again, Mother Goddess, Infernal God… thank you for doing this,” Death nods her head, placing Persephone down in front of them.
“Im only doing this because I am growing even more weaker thanks to that idiot Dumbledore,” The woman growls and Persephone watches as body begins to glow with a brilliant white light, “It was already bad after the Great Cataclysm that Florian Greenheart cause and him taking the mask of Emperor Solarius and creating the Glorius Empire,” she turns her gaze to the mask figure, “Even after your son destoryed them all, the magicals were too afraid of the non-magicals and went into hiding. And if Dumbledore had his way, my name will be forgotten in all of communities of magic,” she shudders at this, nose scrunching up in disgust, “And then where will they be? All their protections will die, the nonmagic humans will find them and then declare war destroying this world once more,”
“Who’s Dumbledore?” Persephone asks making the Goddess turn to her.
She kneels down so she can meet eyes with Persephone, “A man who thinks he knows better, that for the greater good,” her face frowns in anger and Persephone jumps when she hears Death growl, “a child’s happiness means nothing for the saftey of others, for the end of all things that he thinks is evil. Let me tell you something, Persephone Iolanthe Potter, there is no such thing as good and evil magic. While there are some magics that should have never been made there is only power and what people do to use it. Remember that as I give you this gift,” she raises her hands and a blue glow begins to shine while a black stream of mist floats around it, “I have only blessed this gift to six others. Rowena Ravenclaw, Salazar Slytherin, Merlin, Percival Rackham, Isadora Morganach, Madeline Cromwell and now you shall be the seventh,” she gently pushes the light of magic into her chest and Persephone stills, eyes widen as she takes a deep breath. Something within her was pulsing and burning. Persephone brings her hands up, looking at the blue sparks that dance along her fingers.
“Use it well and use it knowing that the Gods are on your side,” The Mother Goddess stood up, retreating back to allow the armor figure to step forward. Kneeling down, he lifts his arms up, grasping onto his helmet and pulls it off. Persephone couldn’t help but gap at the sight of him. He looked a lot like her, with his black hair being messy that stuck up in the back like bow Persephone’s did when her aunt had kept it so short. He had the same thin face, though some of the flesh was burnt on, showing bone underneath.
“I apologize if my face frightens you,” the god’s voice rasps, “I just wish to see you face to face… I have never met one of my descendants, not even my own son,” he lifted up his hand once more, stroking Persephone’s face, “I wonder if he looked like this when he was your age…” he trails off before shaking his head, “I’m getting off topic. My name… I haven't spoken it in years since I took up the mantle of Overlord and then God but I remember it. I am Icarus Potter and for you my descendant I gift you an army,”
“An army?” Persephone raises an eyebrow, watching as he rips a piece of his cloak off before wrapping it around neck, making the torn cloth into a bandanna.
“Once Lady Death takes you to the Netherworld, the minions will automatically know that you are there. Once that old fool Gnarl smells my scent on this he will know at once that I had sent you to them to become my son’s successor,”
“Wait, take me?” Persephone turns to Death, eyes wide, “You mean you're not staying with me?”
“Remember what I told you?” Death spoke softly, bringing a paw to Persephone’s shoulder and squeezing it gently, “We are limited on how much we can interfere with mortals. Once I take you to the Netherworld we must separate once more,” she leans down, wrapping her arms around Persephone once more, “But know that I will be watching and once you have the cloak in your possession you shall always feel my support, even when you feel you are alone,”
Persephone frowns, but nods her head in understanding. She didn’t like the idea of the first ever adult that ever show any concern for her not being there but she understood that a god had more important duties than to care for a little kid.
Persephone blinks though when she felt a hand ruffle her hair, shooting a glare at Icarus who smirks, “She has nothing to worry about. She will have Gnarl and the minions to care for her… they are extremely protective of their Overlord,”
“What’s an Overlord?” Persephone ask before she squeaks as she was once more lifted up into Death’s arms.
“You’ll find out,” Icarus smiles as a red light begins to glow underneath them. Persephone eyes widen, gripping tightly onto Death before her vision goes dark once more.
“Bah! Dark Lord this, Dark Lord that,” a voice mutters in annoyance. Strolling through the remains of a tower, what looked like an imp strolls over to a large window, staring out into the darkness where he sees floating rocks circle around and the only light came from waterfalls of lava, “Oh if only those wizards knew of true evil! Their legs would quiver and tremble until they fell over!”
“Its too bad that we still can’t seem to find a new Overlord, eh Gnarl?” another said though this one wore a jester hat on top of his head.
“Oh shut up Quaver,” Gnarl snaps before he shakes his head, “But you are right. Its almost been 300 years since we had an Overlord,”
“Actually its been 298 years!” Quaver grins as he does a back flip, “Ever since those wizards created the Statue of Wizarding Secrecy,” he then yelps when Gnarl slaps him on the back of his head, sending out the diamond that was in his empty socket.
Gnarl rolls his eyes and sighs, “Yes… it has been that long since the Fourth Overlord, Artemis Potter fell to the hands of nonmagic humans during the witch trials and yet we still have not found a succesor for him! We are like fleas without a dog, maggots without a carcass, pimples without a face!” he strokes his beard, frowning angrily, “I thought those two so-called Dark Lords… that Grindlewald and Voldemort fellow might be the ones who could take up the mantle but they were lacking,” Gnarl shakes his head, ears drooping in disappointment, “Grindlewald was close but he was too focus on getting the Deathly Hallows while Voldemort… he was a mad dog. He and his followers,” Gnarl throws his hands in the air, “Oh sure make an alliance with all the dark creatures but not keeping your promise to them for equal rights… and killing all those who don’t come from families of magic,” he grumbles in annoyance, many of the minions taking a few steps back to avoid his ire, “Good idea until all your followers are too stupid to even pick up a wand because of the inbreeding,” he scoffs once more shaking his head, “And don’t get me on his curse first ask questions later, this is the reason why he was killed by a baby! Can’t find good evil these days,”
The other minions grumble in agreement, some whimpering in sadness. But then, Gnarl’s ear perk up as a pressure begins to build up in the air, pressing down on his shoulders. Looking at the other minions they looked about nervously obviously feeling it as well.
They cried out as a red light flashed before their eyes and Gnarl brings his arm up to block it. Even before he brought it down, he could smell and taste the blood that filled the air. Blinking the spots out of his eyes, he stares in perplexation at the sight of the small girl laying before him, bleeding out on the ground.
The minions whisper and garble to each other and Quaver step forward, poking the girl, “Where did she come from?”
“Better question…” Gnarl said as he walked over, “Is how did she come here?” He stops those when another scent reaches his nose, a very familiar scent, “Master Icarus?” he whispers, eyes widen a bit. Eyes roaming the girl’s broken body, they landed on the red scarf tied around her neck. He leans forward to pull it off, but a small hand latches onto his wrist, squeezing it tightly, so tightly Gnarl was surprise that his wrist wasn’t broken.
Staring at those glowing green eyes, Gnarl couldn’t help but shiver as he feels a coldness creep up his spine. The girl, coughs out blood, glaring at him, “Do… not take it,” she gurgles before her eyes rolled into the back of her head and slumps back down in a faint.
Gnarl stares, before he grin madly, “Boys… I think we have our new Overlord!”
The minions broke out in cheers immediately at this and Quaver doing flips in excitement. Gnarl chuckles looking down at the girl, “Still… this is the last hope for evil? She’s a little short,”
“So was Master Artemis!” Quaver pointed out, “And he was the longest Overlord besides Lord Gromgard!”
Gnarl nodded his head at this, “Yes you are right… and its clear that Master Icarus, may his soul rot, has heard our prayers! We can not let this go to waist!” he turns to some of the minions who were knocking each other over, “Gloob, Grubbin, Mouldy get her to the sarcophagus in the crypt and Quaver go and drag Mortis out of the Barracks so he can heal her!” Quaver saluted at him and ran, tripping on his feet.
Gnarl turns to the three others who carefully lifted the bleeding girl in the air, “The girl will need a proper evil upbringing but in time,” he grins, watching as the child was carried away, “Evil always finds a way,”