The Divine Ascendant

Harry let out a breath as he sank deeper into the plush couch, trapped. He was trapped. Completely and utterly helpless.

Daphne had a grip on his right arm, her head resting on his shoulder as if she were listening for his heartbeat, not wanting to let go of him at all. Tonks had claimed his left, her fingers laced tightly through his, and Anya was sitting directly on his lap, her arms wrapped around his neck in a literal death grip, her face buried in the crook of his shoulder.

"…You know," Harry muttered dryly, looking up at the ornate crown molding of the ceiling. "That was a beautiful welcome. Truly."

"…Can you hear the sarcasm in my voice? It's quite thick. I'm practically drowning in it."

He was talking about all the slaps and punches he received when he arrived first.

A long silence followed. The only sound in the room was the crackle of the fireplace and the synchronized breathing of four people.

It had been hours since he had stepped through the rift. yelling, frantic shouting, and the occasional impulsive punch to his chest, and they still hadn't let go. Apparently, he had been gone for quite a bit of time.

"Four months," Harry repeated under his breath. "I was gone for four months."

He closed his eyes, a pang of guilt twisting in his gut. He had known time was a fickle, treacherous thing when jumping between worlds, that's why he started connecting worlds together and always tried to make sure he came back immediately when he could when he first jumped to a new world.

But it seemed his unexpected trip messed that up for him. To him, the war on Olympus was just a few days. To his wives, it had been months.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. The girls didn't answer immediately, but he felt the shiver that ran through Daphne.

She had been the last to see him. They had spent a quiet, perfectly normal day together in the gardens, with tea and light conversation.

Then he had been heading back to the Game of Thrones world. There had been no grand goodbye, no sense of impending doom. He had kissed her forehead and walked off. And then, just as she was sitting at her desk in the manor later that afternoon, her wedding ring had suddenly flared with heat.

See, Harry had enchanted the rings he gave his wives with a spell he created, inspired by the Vivre Cards of the One Piece world.

It was a simple, As long as he was healthy, the stone stayed their normal color, but if he was hurt, the color shifted. Deep, pulsing red meant a life-threatening, critical injury. Black meant he was dead.

When Daphne looked down and saw her ring a dark, angry crimson, she knew exactly what it meant. Her husband was in danger.

"It stayed red for days, Harry," Tonks muttered against his chest, her voice muffled. "Days where we couldn't do anything but stare at it, knowing you were hurt and were powerless to help."

Those days had been a nightmare for them.

"Thankfully, it didn't turn black," Anya added quietly, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw as if memorizing his face. "That was the only reason the house didn't burn down. That was the only thing that kept hope alive. But seeing it red... it was damning."

They had fought bitterly during those months. Tonks, ever the woman of action, had been desperate to intervene. She had wanted to use the dagger Harry had gifted them to try to reach out to him.

Anya had been the voice of reason. She had argued that they were blind. If Harry were in the middle of a life-and-death situation, a sudden call from them made it seem like they were in trouble. They knew Harry would try his best and do anything to reach them, and depending on his situation, it may cost him his attention and end with him dead.

Daphne had eventually sided with her, pointing out that Harry still had his healing potion and that she was sure he could use it to save himself. If he were alive, he would heal. If he were breathing, he would find the path back to them, she was certain of that.

So in the end, they had decided to wait.

"…Until it turned green," Daphne whispered, a tear finally escaping her lashes and soaking into the fabric of his shirt. Those nights were crushing to her and the others, knowing that he might be dying and could die at any moment.

The green light had finally put them at ease and told them that he was alright. The relief had been so overwhelming that it was almost as painful as the fear.

Harry spent the rest of the evening recounting the tale of what happened. He told them everything, leaving out only the most gruesome details. He described Outergod in the void, the heroic children of the Greek pantheon, and the Titan King who had thought himself the master of time, only to be outmaneuvered by a double-bluff.

"Well, thank Merlin for your insufferable arrogance then," Tonks said, finally pulling back just enough to glare at him. Her hair, which had been a dull, mourning grey for months, suddenly spiked into a violent, neon pink. She hit his shoulder again. "Still, we were so worried... and we couldn't do a single thing to help you. We felt useless, Harry. Do you have any idea what that does to us?"

She grabbed the lapels of his jacket, pulling him closer until their noses touched. "Do you know how that feels?"

Harry didn't offer a retort. He didn't have one. He just pulled her into a kiss, trying to pour every ounce of his love and regret into the contact. "I'm sorry," he whispered against her lips.

Sometimes, "sorry" was the only thing to say.

As the night wore on, the mood shifted from the heavy conversation to the lighter, more familiar rhythm of home. They began to catch him up on the world, what had happened in the time he was gone.

"Salvatore Doni came looking for you twice," Daphne mentioned with a slight, weary roll of her eyes.

Harry snorted. "Of course he did."

"He was borderline offended you weren't here to greet him," Tonks added with a half-grin. "He told us to tell you to 'stop playing hide and seek' because he'd perfected a new sword technique that he was certain would finally take one of your arms."

"Figures," Harry chuckled.

"And Godou Kusanagi came too," Anya said, her expression becoming uncharacteristically thoughtful. "He said he wanted to have that talk you two discussed at the wedding. But he wasn't alone. Came with Erica and one small girl with silver hair."

Harry's brow furrowed. Athena. He had just finished dealing with one version of her on Olympus. Why was the Campione world's version of the Goddess of Wisdom so fixated on him? He'd have to deal with Godou eventually, but for now, he was content to let the other Godslayer wait.

Then came the lighter gossip from the Wizarding World, which felt surreal after fighting Titans.

"Hermione and Ron finally got engaged," Daphne said, a genuine smile tugging at her lips. "Apparently, it took a very loud, very public argument in the middle of the Burrow's kitchen for Ron to finally lose his temper and cough up a ring. Mrs. Weasley nearly fainted with joy."

Harry blinked. "Huh. About time. I'll have to send a gift."

"Luna has a boyfriend," Tonks chimed in, leaning her head on his shoulder. "A naturalist she met while trekking through Scandinavia. They're currently on an expedition to find the nesting grounds of the 'Screaming Blibbering Humdinger.' She sent a postcard, apparently, the boyfriend is just as odd as she is."

Harry couldn't stop the slight twitch of his eyebrow. Luna was like his little sister, and he was tempted to go over to her now and just.....He sighed.

"I'm not even going to question that," Harry said, still though, feeling a warmth in his chest at the thought of her all grown up."

Daphne's smirk became sharp and predatory. "Draco managed to lose the entirety of his personal trust and the remaining liquid assets of the Malfoy estate in a single month."

Harry paused, a piece of fruit halfway to his mouth. "How? Did he bet it all on a Quidditch match?"

"He got scammed," Daphne laughed, the sound bright and musical. "Some 'foreign wizard' contacted him via owl, claiming to be a Nigerian Pureblood Prince who was being persecuted by Muggle-borns. He told Draco there was a secret, massive fund for the 'Restoration of Blood Purity' that just needed an initial investment to secure. Draco, all of it. He even signed over a few properties."

Harry stared for a long second, then burst into a fit of laughter so sudden it made Anya bounce on his lap. 'He fell for a Nigerian Prince scam? A magical, Pureblood version? That's... that's the most beautiful thing I've ever heard.'

"He's essentially homeless now," Tonks added, grinning. "He tried to crawl back to Narcissa at the Black ancestral home, begging her to open the family vaults. He was crying on the doorstep, apparently."

"And?"

"She didn't even open the door," Daphne said calmly. "She spoke to him through the wards. She reminded him that he was the one who kicked her out, and he'd told her he didn't have a mother anymore for her betrayal. She simply told him she didn't have a son."

Harry whistled, leaning back into the cushions. "Damn. The Black family, when they decide you're dead to them, they don't just bury you, they erase the grave."

Despite his lack of pity for Draco, it was a reminder of how quickly the world moved when he wasn't there for even the shortest of moments.

Well, he was here now, and he was going to spend some time with those he loved.

Harry didn't leave again.

He was a man of his word, and he was not cruel enough to disappear after seeing the jagged scars his absence had left on his family. For the next six months, he lived a life that was as close to "peaceful" as a Campione could ever hope for.

He stayed within the borders of his lands most times, enjoying the quiet mornings and the lively evenings. He went on dates, lavish dinners in Paris, quiet walks through the Scottish Highlands, and chaotic shopping trips in London. He made sure each of his wives felt the full weight of his presence.

He spent his mornings in his private lab, pushing the boundaries of his magic and his newly acquired Authorities. He found new ways to weave the "Sun" power of Hyperion, and the "Time" he gained from Kronos.

He did eventually grant Godou Kusanagi a meeting.

It had been a strange, stiff affair.

Godou had arrived with Erica Blandelli and, as Harry had suspected, Athena. Godou was chill as Harry had seen before, and they had spent time just talking about things, and everything was going well, but there was one problem, the goddess's behavior.

She didn't speak, she simply stood across from Harry and stared. Just stared at him throughout.

It had at one point just started to piss Harry off, he was holding back, ignoring her because he really didn't want to deal with her, but after a while....Then, as if to make matters worse, she moved and entered his personal space to just... stare at his face from inches away, Harry's patience had evaporated. He had been a second away from calling forth his authorities and decking her across the room.

Erica and Godou, realizing that Harry was seconds away from removing Athena's throat, had ended the meeting and dragged the goddess out of the room. Harry still didn't know what she wanted, but he decided that as long as she stayed out of his house, he wouldn't kill her.

Present Day – Dinner

The dining hall was warm. The house-elves had outdone themselves with a magnificent roast lamb, and the air was filled with comfortable, easy chatter of the family.

Until Harry noticed.

Daphne wasn't eating. She was staring at her plate, her fork mindlessly moving a piece of rosemary-roasted potato in a circle. Her eyes were glazed, her mind clearly miles away.

"Daphne?" Harry called out softly.

She didn't respond. She didn't even blink.

"Daphne," he tried again, his voice gaining a bit of volume and a touch of concern.

She snapped back to the present, blinking rapidly as if waking from a dream. "Hm? Oh! Sorry, what was that?"

Harry frowned, setting his own fork down with a quiet clink. "I didn't ask a question yet. I was just wondering if the potato did something to offend you. You've been staring at it for ten minutes."

Daphne hesitated. She took a deep, shaky breath and looked at him. There was a look in her blue eyes that Harry had never seen before, a mixture of terror and was that joy?.

"…What's wrong?" Harry asked.

"Nothing is wrong," she said softly, her voice thick with emotion. "Nothing serious, at least."

She paused, exhaling a breath she seemed to have been holding for a lifetime. She locked her eyes onto his green ones, her gaze unwavering.

"I'm pregnant, Harry."

Harry's spoon slipped from his fingers.

"Huh?"

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