He watched, as his children tore through life on Earth. The solemn, miserable little place. It was too bright - too full of pure beings.
Tartarus had a much simpler feel to it. He did visit, occasionally. He'd come up, and he'd choose his people, those who would bring Chaos in some way to those around them.
His favorite was Tom Riddle. He had known since Riddle was born that he had to manipulate the boy into doing horrible things.
He was giddy, in a way, to emerge from the Underworld and lay his eyes on that infant. Laying in a cold, unforgiving world with his mother nowhere in sight.
He scooped the infant into his arms, cooing softly to gain its trust. The baby looked at him through tears, and he felt odd. He brought the xhild to an orphanage, explaining he'd found him abandoned. They took him.
Chaos returned three weeks later, posing as a young nurse who wanted to work for the orphanage. He was accepted.
Young Tom grew, with subtle pushed from Chaos to turn towards him, a whisper that another boy had said something about his mother, a light shove when one was near.
In an odd way, it felt as though Tom was his son. He'd watched him grow, he was there the first time he caught something on fire. He had dropped him off at Kings Cross for his journey to Hogwarts. He had grown a strange connection to the boy.
Now, Chaos sat and watched, they had failed. He had seen his boy, grown up, recruiting people for his cause. He had watched his son, his true son join Tom, which overjoyed him. The only reason he had introduced himself to Mrs. Pettigrew was so he could have another child follow Tom's rule, and he did well, until he allowed the Potter boy to live.
It was a shame, truly, he had hoped that for once, he would not be disappointed by one of his minions. He had gone out of his way to touch Fred Weasley, in hopes that the god Apollo would fall, yet he failed at that as well.
He would not fail this time, however. He had had enough hiding in the underground. He would arrive, and he would destroy every last witch, wizard, god, and demigod that he saw. Starting with the boy who had killed his son, and indirectly his other son.
***
George had been having a good night, as far as nights went now that Fred was gone. He had briefly visited Apollo in Olympus, had eaten dinner with his family, he had even given his mother a weak smile.
Then sleep came. It was filled with nightmares, Fred standing beside him, then falling to the ground. His loved ones, all his family being killed, his friends tortured. He saw Apollo being beaten, before he was dragged into Tartarus. He turned, and saw him.
"What do you want?" George screamed, staring at the looming black mass.
"I want you all to perish, George Weasley. I want my revenge." The voice boomed, echoing throughout the rubble that was Hogwarts.
"Your revenge? You're the reason my friend is in the hospital wing! You're the reason that Fr-" he stopped, he could no longer speak his brothers name.
"I will fix your friend, she will be fine. As for your brother, he was destined to die anyway, yo-" he was cut off by a shriek from George, who had lunged at him.
A simple step away from him worked, and George fell to the ground.
He knelt beside the young man, and whispered.
"I don't want to hurt you George, I want you to be my messenger. Tell them that I am coming. Tell them, that they are all doomed." With that, he faded away into the darkness.
***
George sat, peeling potatoes, chucking them into a pot for his mother. He stared blankly out the window, staring at the garden. The garden that he had once had fun in with his siblings.
Now, they all sat, Ginny was sitting with Hermione, laughing about something random most likely. Ron sat conversing with Leo, most likely about the joke shop. George had given it up to Ron, saying that he could never be there again. Percy, Harry, and Draco sat, exchanging stories of their travels, and how life had been in the past years.
Annabeth was at the table near George, drawing diagrams and asking Minerva how magic would work with her plans, as Molly rushed around behind them.
Apollo stood in the field outside of the burrow, watching everyone interact. Frank and Hazel had decided to watch the clouds, and sat a little ways off from Leo and Calypso, who were throwing gnomes.
He knew that George was not okay, he saw it in the frustration in George's eyes when he struggled with a task, or when he couldn't sleep.
George walked up to him, and stood beside him.
"It's a nice place here," he commented.
"I know. But its no longer my home," George whispered.
Apollo looked at him, and saw the concern in the younger ones eyes.
"I know," he sighed. "You can always stay with Bill and Fleur, they offered." Apollo reminded him.
George shook his head.
"No," his voice broke, "if I stay with them, they could get hurt. I don't want anyone else to die because I wasn't smart enough."
"You're plenty smart, George. It was me who failed, but pushing away those you love-" he was cut off.
"Don't you dare tell me that I'm pushing them away! I'm protecting them! I never want them to have to wake up in the middle of the night, or worry that they're all going to die! They deserve to be happy!" George shouted, his irritation leaking through his usually meek tone.
Apollo looked at him, and smiled softly.
"George, I hope you know that you're never going to be alone. I'll always be here, and," he interrupted George's protest, "I'm a god, I can be injured, but I can never truly die."
George nodded, and slumped down the ground. The god sank down beside him.
"Apollo?" He looked at the god cautiously.
"George."
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "For everything."
Apollo simply wrapped an arm around him.
"It's not your fault. Just know, that whilst we're all here, Chaos will never win."
