The fervor behind her response should have shocked Hades. You did not snap at the King of the Underworld. Especially when you were asking the King of the Underworld to break rules. Rules that were there for a very good reason. The living and dead were supposed to move on in different directions, not together. That was the way it worked. She was asking him to give her something that Hades knew wouldn't work. Not well. Not the way it was supposed to. Neither one of them would be able to move on this way.
But in this instance, Hades wasn't offended by her tone. He understood the sentiment. Hades had been left to rot by his family. More than once.
But they were still his family, and Hades knew Zeus, and he especially knew Hera. They did not always view their betrayals as betrayals, or their wronged parties as wronged. No matter what his brother and sister had done, Harmonia was still Zeus's grandchild, and his subject, and as an Olympian goddess she still had duties. Hades rarely agreed with Zeus. There were so many things wrong with the way Zeus ran things, the way Zeus did things. But Zeus was Hades' brother. An inherent need, a duty, to protect and stand by him came with that. They'd fought together well once. They'd stood by each other once. Hades remembered. There was a line Hades wouldn't cross. Harmonia was asking him to risk crossing it. That was a lot to ask of a long lost great uncle.
Hades sighed, “Are any of them expecting you? Will any of them come after you? Are you truly prepared to leave the mortal world functioning without you?”
He noted the desperation in the goddess in front of him. The tired eyes that had cried far too many tears. Harmonia was not dead, and wouldn't die. But if Hades cast her out, she wouldn't live either. She wasn't ready for that. Her heart was too broken. The living and dead were supposed to move on in different directions, not together. But Harmonia had lost the will to be alive.