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Consort to War	By : Jemixe Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 17682 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Lover of a God
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 1
- 2
Author: Jemi

Title: Lover to a God

Rating: PG for now, will get higher later.

Beta: The one who issued the challenge, Blood Phoenix. Thanks lots for the challenge idea and for looking it over for me.

Disclaimer Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made off the writing of this story in any way, shape or form.

I never know how to begin these things. Being THE scribe to the gods is a tiring, fruitless and reward-less job. I�m under-appreciated and totally taken advantage of. I�m expected to write the truth--as they see it, not as it really happened. Heavens forbid the gods look bad. But, that is neither here nor there. I am going to write this memoir as I see fit--in other words, the truth as it really happened. The only problem is, as I stated before, the beginning. Every good story needs a good introduction. I�ll just give it a try.

Once upon a time�no, too trite and cliché.

A long time ago in a galaxy far away�no, no, No! It won�t work, it�s in this galaxy. Besides, I think there�s some sort of copy write law or something.

In a time of ancient gods, warlords and kings�no, already taken for that television show. (The Warrior Princess rocks baby. She can show me her skills any day!!)

Sit right back and you�ll hear a tale�nope, another television show. (Must tell Eros to stop watching Nick at Night!!!)

Ah, I have it.

It began with a baby. Not an ordinary baby, but a magical baby. His name was Harry Potter. His young life was filled with tragedy and unhappiness. His parents were killed when he was one-year-old, forcing him to be sent to live with his horrid relatives. They locked him in a tiny little cupboard under the stairs, forced him to cook the meals, do the chores in the house as well as those outside. He wasn�t given anything fun or expensive. His Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon treated him as an unpaid servant.

His cousin, Dudley, was a whale of a boy who got the best of everything and anything he wanted. He always ate, especially if he knew Harry liked it, ensuring Harry didn�t get any. He would run around, �Harry Hunting� with his friends. All in all, he and his parents were an awful waste of humanity. More wretched mortals one could probably meet, but it would be difficult.

Now, Harry was special in that he was a wizard. His parents were wizards and so was he. But even for a wizard he wasn�t ordinary. No, when his parents were killed, the evil, loathsome, despicable, vile, wretched, and bad Dark Wizard, Voldemort, tried to kill baby Harry too. Only he couldn�t; the killing curse bounced off of Harry and back onto Voldemort, destroying his body. Throughout the wizarding world, Harry was known as a savior; the Boy Who Lived. And he didn�t even know about it; only being one-year-old.

Then, Harry turned eleven. To a witch or wizard, eleven is an important number. That is when they get their acceptance letter to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry got that letter, eventually. His Uncle Vernon tried to prevent him from getting the letter, as if he could out run Dumbledore, but then the Half-Giant Hagrid found Harry and introduced him to the wizard�s world. From that moment on, Harry�s life was filled with adventure. He met friends, defeated evil, possessed teachers, escaped giant spiders, killed a deadly, giant snake; uncovered lies and secrets, defeated fear, and helped an escaped convict, well, escape again.

Then his fourth year, things take a darker turn. Harry experienced the death of a fellow class mate, and watched the resurrection of evil. He carried the corpse back to the castle after facing a risen Voldemort and winning a battle against him. Exhausted and battered, Harry returns for his summer with his relatives.

In his fifth year at school he had to deal with secrets and his link to Voldemort. He felt what the Dark Lord felt, sometimes saw what Voldemort saw, and was even possessed by Voldemort. And to make things worse, Harry was tricked by the Dark Lord and sent on an almost suicidal mission to the Department of Ministries for a prophesy. It was there that Harry lost his godfather--the aforementioned escaped convict.

During his sixth year, Harry dealt with an almost-kidnapping and an attack on Hogsmeade. The little wizarding village was almost reduced to dust as wave after wave of Death Eaters threw curses and spells and hexes every which way. Casualties were few but severe. And Harry was at the forefront, fighting with as much skill and experience as someone twice his age.

That brings us to the true beginning of this tale; this tale that includes romance, blood, death, violence, sex, and all manner of other goodness, or badness as the case may be. For Harry unwittingly caught the attention of a god�

Ares was lounging in one of his many onyx chairs adorned with bones and skulls of fallen heroes and warriors. One leg was swinging over the chair�s arms and he was gazing through his viewing portal. Bloodshed and carnage galore was passing through his eyes, and Ares felt rejuvenated by it. He closed his eyes and reveled in a particularly gruesome evisceration. Blood, intestines and vitreous liquids came spilling forth. Metal clanged and bullets riddled the air. Sure it was better when his warriors used swords and daggers; but, a good automatic machine gun got the job done in less time.

Ares sighed, uncharacteristically bored with watching wars and fighting. It hadn�t happened to him before. His sister, Aphrodite visited him before and commented on it. She actually said that it happens to every War God every once in a while. It�s really alright and nothing to be ashamed of. How would she know? She�s a Love Goddess. And how many other war gods had she been talking to anyway?

With a start, Ares sat up, creatively and emphatically cursing a god�s ability to just pop in and appear with a mere thought.

�You�re doing it again, little brother.�

Very few people could sneak up on Ares, as the God of War he had a reputation, but one of them was always Aphrodite or Athena, and he could never figure out why. And both of them were here now to bother him. As if they didn�t have anything better to do than irritate the God of War.

�Doing what?�

�Pouting. You remind me of a little boy whose favorite toy was just broken. It�s quite endearing, little brother. Imagine if the people were to see the big, bad, War God slouched on his skeletal throne, pouting.�

Ares groaned wholeheartedly. He seriously thought about running away and hiding in one of his hidden, unknown temples. It was going to be one of those days. He had Athena and Aphrodite here to bother him. Each separately was barely tolerable, but when they tag-teamed him, he felt the intense desire to bang his head against something hard, pointy and very sharp. That would be less painful. But they were his sisters, and while Athena tolerated him due to their shared status of war gods, Aphrodite genuinely liked him--as evidenced by their son, Eros. A perfect mixture of Ares� intense emotions (though the War God kept them hidden and in check, unless on the battlefield), and the rest from his mother.

In a family where none liked him, not even his parents, he pitifully, and secretly, reveled in the pithy morsels of affection. It wouldn�t do for the God of War to admit any reliance on anyone, even if only emotionally.

�Athena, while I so enjoy your witty conversation and titillating observations on the state of my emotions, is there any specific reason you saw fit to honor me with your presence?�

Athena, dressed in a shimmering grey dress nodded but didn�t immediately answer. Instead she walked over and observed a moving tapestry; one which depicted the Crusades in bloody and graphic detail. She tucked a strand of her wavy red, shoulder-length hair behind her ear.

Aphrodite, on the other hand, was dressed in a silk, fire-engine red skirt with a slit up to there, and a matching sparkling spaghetti strap, with a sheer black over shirt. She came walking up the dais and sat on the unoccupied arm of Ares� chair, half resting against her brother.

�So, what�s with the major War God impotency?�

Ares groaned, again. A common problem he had when in close proximity to these two. Aphrodite is the Goddess of Love, that didn�t mean he needed to hear everything she said in some sort of occupational euphemism.

�It�s NOT War God impotency. It�s just�a small case of not being able to fully and suitably fulfill the needs of my role in the capacity as God of War. Zeus has been very vocal about his displeasure with the current state of affairs in the world, some of which I have absolutely no control over, Eris has been mucking up even the simplest of jobs.� Here Aphrodite glowered darkly, yet prettily. �Her son, Strife has been doing an even bigger job of annoying me, Hera has been sending me more veiled messages to still get rid of her biggest humiliation--as if that�s even possible--and to top it off, something big is coming, I can feel it, but the Fates are even more tight-lipped about it than normal, so I can�t do anything about it. Further more; you and Athena keep dropping in unannounced, annoying me at the most inopportune of moments. So yeah, my attention is divided and it has started to affect my work. I haven�t been this off since Dionysus decided to try out his new wine at one of the parties on Mount Olympus and Pan put some herbal additives in the drink; the world had its dark ages.�

Aphrodite made sympathizing noises and soothingly ran her fingers through her brother�s hair. She really did feel bad for him sometimes. He was the strongest of the children, only behind Daddy, Uncle Poseidon, and Uncle Hades. He had a lot of expectations riding on him, but to top it off, his own parents didn�t like him. People thought he was a murderer and bloodthirsty, and he�s oftentimes portrayed as a coward. Aphrodite knew him better than anyone, and he had his own brand of honor and a courage that was unmatched. If he can stand toe to toe with Zeus and survive, that�s got to count for something.

�That�s why Athena and I are here. We have something that needs to be brought to your attention.�

At this, Athena turned around, noting the easy camaraderie between her two siblings. She didn�t have that with anyone but Zeus, but sometimes she wanted it with someone other than her father. Sometimes being the favorite sucked. Sometimes she envied her brother; their father�s dislike of him meant that what was expected of him was lesser in a parent�s eyes, instead of just as an employer. Mentally shaking her head, goddesses, especially of wisdom, don�t have unmitigated angst, it just wasn�t becoming of someone of Athena�s stature, Athena brought her attention back to the topic at hand.

�Yes, Ares. I actually think it has something to do with what you were feeling and that the Fates are hiding. I have a familiar who resides in the mortal world. Only she lives in the world of our brethren. She reports of a great darkness growing, nigh on unstoppable.�

Ares and Aphrodite took a second to sift through what Athena said. There really needed to be an Athena-English dictionary somewhere. Aphrodite spent more time with Athena, so she was able to translate first.

�So, what great and new evil is trying to take over the wizarding world now? Seems like there�s someone trying to do it every century or so.�

�No Aphrodite. This is different. This isn�t some witch or wizard with delusions of grandeur like Mab or Herpo the Foul, or even Grindelwald. This is one who actually has good cause to his claim of the name Dark Lord. Many in the community won�t even say his true name. He rose to power once before, but was temporarily defeated, and now, he�s risen to power a second time. This time he�s stronger than before, almost as strong as we are. And he�s figured out a way to prevent his death.�

�That�s impossible. Even we can be killed. How can a mere mortal figure out a way to cheat death? Have you spoken to Thanatos about this? Even if he had the Elixir of Life, he could be killed by conventional means.�

�Have you forgotten your history, sister? Wizards are no more mere mortals than we are titans. They are our brethren, related to us through magic, though most of us have forgotten and they�ve never known. The first gods were witches and wizards. So the fact that this Voldemort had the power to prevent his death isn�t so impossible--it�s the fact that he was actually able to do it that is impossible. Or it should have been. I don�t know how he�s done it and neither does my familiar, but he�s stronger than before, and the darkness he brings with him will reach us and the human world outside the realm of wizards. Our survival may depend on it. If he reaches Olympus, think of the unlimited power he�d have access to.�

Ares sat up, absently catching Aphrodite when his movement upset her precarious seat. Athena saw it and noted the reflexive action. Her mind wandered to her nephew, Eros; no one knew for fact if he was Ares� son, but it was widely speculated. It didn�t matter much, and while she loved her brother, she couldn�t let it show, even to him for fear of retribution from Father.

�What needs to be done?�

Athena walked over to one of Ares� viewing portals and waved a hand across it. The gesture technically wasn�t necessary, but it was fun and simpler. The screen was filled by a young man of maybe sixteen or seventeen. He was small and slender, almost waiflike. His ebony black hair could only be described as organized chaos, and his fringe fell into his eyes. Greener eyes couldn�t possibly be found. They were green like an emerald shining in the sun. He wore round-rimmed glasses that sat precariously on his nose as he flew on a broom. Most odd of all was his scar. A scar in and of itself wasn�t peculiar, but it�s placement and shape was. This scar was shaped like a lightening bolt and was on the boy�s forehead.

�This young man is somehow linked to everything that�s happening. I can�t see anything to do with him in any of my view portals, so I don�t know anything more than what he looks like. And my familiar can�t or won�t tell me more.�

Aphrodite was studying the picture, tapping a well manicured fingernail against her bottom lip as she did so. �Why can�t you view him?�

Athena shrugged at she answered, letting the picture freeze on the lad�s face.

�Somehow, I may be too closely connected to him, or some other reason is preventing me from seeing him. I can�t see his past or present, only this picture you see of him flying. I won�t know more until I actually meet him.�

�You�re actually planning to go down there?� Aphrodite sounded absolutely scandalized at the thought.

�No, I�m going to ask someone else to go down there, and then he�s going to bring the boy here. We need to find out all we can about what�s going on and what part that young man plays in all of this if we�re to help stop what could very well be the destruction of everything.�

�Don�t you think you�re being a little over dramatic, Athena? Can he really be that powerful and that destructive?�

Athena materialized what the other two recognized to be a protective bubble. Inside was a dagger of some sort. She tossed the bubble to Ares, who deftly caught it. With an inquiring look at his sister, he released the bubble and grabbed hold of the knife. Instantly, his stomach churned and his vision went fuzzy. The feelings coming from the dagger were unlike anything he�d felt before, even with millennia of wars and fighting, death and bloodshed under his belt. He took a deep breath and was about to return the dagger to the bubble, but Aphrodite took hold of it. Ares had to let go for fear of cutting his sister. He knew this blade would damage even a god.

Aphrodite held the knife for no longer than a second before she passed out. Ares reached out, lightening fast and caught her before he hit the marble floor. He picked her up and set her on the bed Athena just transfigured from his throne.

Ares felt dirty, and he didn�t want to think about how that dagger made Aphrodite feel if the effect on him was anything to go by. She knew war and death existed, but she was never fully exposed to it. Being related to Ares and married to Hephaestus guaranteed some sort of peripheral exposure, but what was in that dagger brought everything vile, dirty and evil forth. What ever magic that blade was used for wasn�t good, and its wielder undoubtedly needed to be stopped.

�No, you weren�t exaggerating. If this Voldemort person can leave that much residue in a blade, he has to be stopped. But, it wasn�t all his. Whose else was there? It was similar, but not.�

Athena brushed Aphrodite�s blond bangs from her face and shook her head. �I don�t know, little brother.�

Ares nodded. �Who are you going to send to get the kid?�

Ares thought he actually saw Athena wince and look very pointedly at Aphrodite. �Her-mmmnnph.�

A dawning of suspicious understanding settled like a suffocating fog around Ares.

�What did you say?�

Athena turned to him and sighed heavily. �I said, Hercules. He�s the only one I�d trust right now. We need to know more than we do now, and with Father�s ban on traveling to the mortal world for the rest of this month, we need Hercules to get the boy.�

Ares cursed his father for the nth time in his life. One Earth month out of the year, Zeus was forced, by Hera, to decree travel between Olympus and the mortal world prohibited. But Hercules was exempt because technically he wasn�t a god and he didn�t live in Olympus and he wasn�t traveling from Olympus but to Olympus.

�Once again I bow down to necessity. Just make sure that for his tenure in our humble home that he stays away from me!�

�One of these days, you two are going to have to put this childish fighting behind you. He�s our half brother, Ares. And he has the wrath of Hera on him, still. For those reasons alone he deserves our support.�

Ares just stared at Athena, but eventually looked away.

�Look, just, let me know when the kid gets here, alright. Aphrodite can stay here until she wakes up, or you can take her with you. I�m going to bed.�

With that Ares walked out, his shoulders slumped and an air of world-weary exhaustion enfolded him like a cloak.

Harry was enjoying his free period basking in the last rays of the summer sun. Autumn was making her presence known, putting a slight chill in the air, but Harry was happy. Well, as happy as one can be with one�s very own psychopathic, megalomaniacal, power hungry, murdering, evil wizard.

Harry settled back against the tree stump in front of Hagrid�s hut looking out over the castle. He let the chirping of the birds and the rustling of the wind through the leaves and grass lull him to slumber. The next thing he knew, someone was gently shaking his shoulder. Harry opened his eyes and his entire field of vision was blocked by a hulking figure. Still mostly asleep, Harry thought it was Hagrid.

�S�rry �grid. Dinnit mean to fall �sleep.� Harry yawned hugely and stretched.

He looked around for his glasses and put them on after wiping them off from dirt and grass. That�s when it hit him. Hagrid was being quiet, which never happened, except for now because Hagrid was dead, so the person who woke Harry up wasn�t Hagrid.

Harry slowly stood up, not that he was worried it was a Death Eater. The wards on Hogwarts and her grounds prevented them from just arbitrarily entering. But he was really close to the forest and didn�t know what manner of big nasties might traipse to Hagrid�s hut.

�Hello. Have a nice nap?�

The voice sounded friendly, but that didn�t say much. Well, Harry did think it was a bonus that whatever, or whomever, it was could talk.

�Young Harry Potter. You shouldn�t be this close to the forest, especially at these dark times, alone.�

Firenze. At the centaur�s voice, Harry relaxed, but kept his attention on the stranger still standing behind him.

�Thanks for the warning Firenze. I�ll be more careful in the future.�

But the centaur wasn�t looking at Harry. His eyes were fully trained on the stranger standing near Harry.

�Greetings stranger. I trust you come in good faith and peace?�

�Greetings honored beast. I come in good faith and peace.�

Harry listened to the words which sounded like a ritual. Apparently the stranger said the right things because Firenze relaxed his stance and came nearer, extending his hand in welcome.

�I have heard stories about you from my Sire and Dam. It is a pleasure to meet you.�

�Likewise.�

�I am afraid I must ask, because this young man is a student at this school and I, a teacher, so he is in my charge. What brings you here, and what is your interest in Harry Potter?�

�Very good question, Firenze.�

Harry turned when he heard Professor Dumbledore�s voice. He came forward, his dark blue robes billowing about in the breeze, the stars changing into different constellations. The sun glinted off his half-moon spectacles. His hand came forward in offering, much like Firenze�s had. The stranger gripped Dumbledore�s arm in the middle of the forearm, and the Headmaster did like wise to the stranger.

�It is very nice indeed to meet you; however, I believe introductions on behalf of those who don�t know you are necessary, as well as relocation. Maybe the quidditch pitch. It�s private as no one is out there at this time of day. And it�s large enough.�

Harry noticed that Professors Snape, McGonagall, Lupin and Moody were standing behind the Headmaster.

�That sounds like a good idea. Lead the way.�

�Come along Harry, as this most certainly concerns you.�

Harry nodded, not even questioning how the Headmaster seemed to know what was going on. It was just one of those things that he�d come to expect. The earth revolves around the sun, magic is unpredictable, Hermione knows all the answers, Draco is a prat, Ron has freckles and Dumbledore knows everything. Simple really.

The group of people, and one centaur, marched onto the quidditch field, where the Headmaster promptly conjured some cushy, overstuffed armchairs and a small tea table.

�Please, everyone sit. Refreshments should be along shortly. It�s always better to hear interesting tales with something to snack on.�

With an inquiring look at the Headmaster and everyone else, (who were unsurprised if unused to Dumbledore�s eccentricities) the stranger sat down.

�Very good. I shall start then. I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of this school. These are Professors Minerva McGonagall, Severus Snape, Remus Lupin, and Alastor Moody, and you�ve already met Firenze. Now, who might you be?�

Harry wondered why he wasn�t introduced, but figured it didn�t matter. His name was thrown about so often anyway, this person probably already knew. Besides, he was here, able to listen to the conversation, so he figured that was pretty good. He listened as the stranger spoke.

�My name is Hercules. I was asked to come here and retrieve that young man and bring him to Mount Olympus. Apparently, he has an appointment with the gods and with Fate.�

Harry gulped and his eyes swiveled towards the headmaster. What he saw there was not reassuring. Those sky blue eyes were twinkling brighter than the North Star.
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Consort to War