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The Gods Of Mars	By : screamguy Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 794 -:- 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-Prolouge : Umbilical Reflection
- 2-Chapter One : " No Need Of Him"
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sj author, thanks for the review. I'm glad you share the same enthusiasm that I do for this story, and I'd wager to say I think you're going to enjoy where I'm taking this... ;)

The Gods Of Mars

"Chapter One : No Need Of Him "

'The machine is cleaved in two

we are parted

we will be whole again

the prophecy shall be exalted.'

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A few days after their birth . . . .

January 4th, 1927

Two shapes strode together in unison on the cobbled walkway, their immaculately clean heels clapping against the wet stone.
The couple glided beneath a shared parasol casually and without a care in the world, as if it were perfectly natural to be visiting an orphanage at the stroke of nine o'clock in the evening.

Each they step they took was timed precisely to the second, each lift and fall in perfect mimicry of one another. One after the other, his black velvet dresscoat rustling against her long evening gown that was layered beneath a white fur cowl with long draping sleeves.

An embodiment of youth and wealth, they appeared to posess no faults. Yet if that were true, then they would not have been stealing away to the orphanage in the dead of night.

"Darling, I'm absolutely sure this time will be different," the woman's soft voice cooed, her face hidden by a dark veil.

Her husband did not respond to her spoken certainty, but remained silent. The red bearded man seemed torn, he yearned to truely believe that this time would be different than the last, but he did not want to immerse himself in false hopes.

They came to an iron gate that guarded the entrance to the muggle building, pausing as they steeled themselves for what would probably be another devastating disappointment. One after the other, they had visited each muggle orphanage that was stationed within London, in the hopes of finding a child that . . . best suited their needs. In hopes of uncovering one of magical descent that they could rear as their own.

Elizabeth and Rupert Scrope, were descended from a line of ancient and powerful pure blooded wizards. They had everything that people those days, and these; desired. Looks, wealth, power, pure lineage. On the surface they were a enviable lot. Yet there was one thing they did not have. Could not have.

A child.

They had tried countless times for years, covertly visiting the best alchemists galleons could afford, traversing the land far and wide in search of a cure for their unique situation. They would have given anything to have a child of their own, but no amount of money could purchase the priceless fertility that lay concealed from their grasp.

The wedded couple were not proud of what options they had left. But they were desperate, and as Elizabeth had so bluntly pointed out, it was their only chance at happiness. So each night they walked the streets of London, a peculiar duo that muggles seemed to vaguely recollect, their faces fading in the nonmagicals' minds as they disappeared into the night as quietly as they had came.

They did not desire for anyone to know of their shameful failures at conception, a thing that was considered by their fellows to be standard when it came to pure blooded families. Barrenness was to be abhorred and despised at all costs, whether it be the sin of a man or a woman. And so it was they had gone, one night after the other in search of their unfound child that Elizabeth was convinced lay somewhere in London, waiting for their rescue.

Rupert held his wife protectively, preparing himself for the inevitable onslaught of tears that would follow when they did not uncover their mythical baby. He was a realist, perhaps to the point where reality had became a daily dose of gloom for him to swallow.

Pushing the gate open, they strode down the path arm in arm. The closer they moved to the doorstep, the more obvious his wife's excitement became.

The black haired woman with lustrious curls held a deep breath, releasing it from her wide mouth that was painted red.

Rupert raised his hand, knocking on the bare wood twice with a distinct rap. As they waited, they could hear the lonesome howl of a stray dog, far into the night.

Rupert coughed, and right as he was about to decide to leave, their call was answered.

Light was shed as the door opened with a creak, a shrewd thin woman peering out from behind the wood, blinking as though she was unable to believe her eyes.
" It's late," she remarked dryly from behind her spectacles, adding slowly with much reluctance, "Can I help you?"

The couple both looked at one another, sharing a glance that defined their thoughts without words.

"We'd like to see your newborns," Elizabeth answered, her white gloved hand grasping Rupert's black one.

"A bit late for that, isn't it?" the muggle woman said with a scowl, then when she saw the pleading expression on Elizabeth's face, her features softened.

"Alright, I suppose it'd do no harm," Mrs. Cole muttered, swinging the door open to allow them entrance.

"You best be quiet though, they're sleeping now, and I don't want them to be woken," Mrs.Cole uttered softly, leading them down a long hallway that was tiled with black and white squares.

Elizabeth turned her head to glance upward at her tall husband as they walked, his face was void of any emotion; but she knew inside how he felt. He wanted to have a child just as much, if not more than she. It would destroy him if they did not succeed in their endeavor.

"This is it, " Mrs. Cole stated, quietly opening the door to a room that was heated, and dimly lit.

They stood in the doorway like beggars, hesitant to enter.

Rupert took the first step, steadying his wife by the elbow as they walked inside. The room was rather small, but it was cozy, and devoid of much furniture. There hung one pastel portrait on the wall, a bit off; of a brightly colored landscape filled with streams and fields of various wildflowers.

"Seems a bit sad, doesn't it?" Rupert murmured softly, gazing upon all the small bassinets that were lined neatly like ducklings in a row.

"There's four girls here, and eight boys," Mrs. Cole said in hushed tones, raising her hand to cover her mouth as she yawned sleepily, adjusting her nightcap.

"Go ahead then. Have a look."

The young woman and the young man peered at one another, Elizabeth crossing her fingers for good luck.

"This is it, " she breathed, giving Rupert's gloved hand a squeeze.

They made their way close to the first of the bassinets, Rupert shaking his head quietly. 'Not this one, ' he thought inside Elizabeth's head.

One by one, they came to each of the bassinets, and each one was plainly muggle to Rupert's searching eyes. Each one was a failure.

Finally, there were only two baskets left.

Rupert held his wife's hand tenderly, playing the part of the docile husband to appease her desires. He was reserving his hope, having all but given up.

Elizabeth's heeled pullstring boots slid softly against the carpet as she advanced, her large brown eyes staring down upon the two male children. Rupert's heart thumped loudly in his chest. He could see both of the baby boys, and within the very center of their core, great spheres of shining blue light were flickering with a glittering persistence.

His grip on Elizabeth's hand suddenly increased. 'THESE TWO!' he roared in delight nonverbally, 'Both Magical!! We've done it love! We're really going to have children!'

Elizabeth looked at him, her eyes brimming with tears. 'Oh darling, I'm ever so happy,' she sniffled in his head, dabbing a lace kerchief at the corners of her doe eyes.

'One problem, you know we can only choose one.' Rupert sighed to her mind in defeat. This was very true. One would be considered a miracle, but two.....

Their family members knew of their trouble at conceiving a child. She had been able to fake the illusion of being pregnant for some time now, but they had not counted on finding two, they would be lucky to have found one in all of London, let alone two.

If they brought home two, they certainly would have been held under suspicion, and the threat of their lie being revealed was too much for them to stand. They would uphold their facade of perfection, at whatever costs.

'I can't choose,' Elizabeth said mentally with a slight sob, staring down on the sleeping boys.

Coming up behind them, unaware of their telepathic conversation; Mrs. Cole remarked, " Yes, those two are quite recent, born only a few nights ago."

"That's rather an odd coincidence isn't it," Elizabeth Scrope noted, not connecting the dots.

" They're twins love, " her husband Rupert said aloud, placing his hand on her shoulder.

"Oh," Elizabeth breathed, a growing horror dawning on her features. 'But that means.... we'll have to split them up!' she cried out in Rupert's mind, at odds with her consious.

'That it does,' he agreed in her head.

The couple appeared to be hesitant, reservation prickling through their veins. They had no desire to tear the boys apart from one another. They knew that the children were most likely the only living relatives that each other had, and if they were to adopt one, they would be in a sense ruining the other's life. What if the other never was adopted? What if the other child had to live out his life in a ghastly, lonesome existence?

Rupert Scrope inhaled deeply. His yearning for a child, for a son outweighed his sense of empathy. Someone would adopt the other one, someone had to, otherwise that would have meant admitting that what he and his wife were doing was terribly, completely, and utterly, wrong.

They may have had their good intentions to cling to whenever their guilt would assail them in the years to come, but deep down, they would always know in their hearts that what they had done, the atrocity of the crime they had committed was unforgivable, and no amount of rationalization would ever assuage their undying remorse.

"We'll take this one," Rupert said quietly, making the decision that much easier for his wife. He did not wish her to bear the burden
of what must be done. He gingerly picked up the bassinet that held the younger boy within it, not comprehending the monumental
enormity of their decision, that would create a chain of unavoidable events that would forever change history as it had been known.

Although he had picked up the bassinet delicately and with the utmost of care to not wake the baby, it was as if the child possessed a netherworldly sense that alerted him to the horror of being separated from his brother. The child's eyes opened with a start, revealing their shockingly blue colour.

Then, the infant let out a high pitched unearthly wail, his tiny fists curling as he thrashed and shrieked like a banshee.

" I didn't do anything...." Rupert murmured, though in truth that was false.

As if on cue, the other twin was woken, and his eyes flashed a livid green as he stared intensely at the awkward couple.
He made no sound, merely bore into them with his eyes. If Rupert hadn't known any better, he would swore that those young eyes were filled with a silent fury....

"That one hasn't been named , doesn't have any documentation on him yet either," Mrs.Cole interjected, placing her body between Mr. Scrope and the other child's hypnotic gaze.

" I'm sorry?" the red haired wizard answered, Elizabeth taking the younger twin out of his bassinet that Mr. Scrope had been carrying and rocked him gently in her arms, hushing him.

" That boy has not been named, and he does not have any documentation on him either," Mrs Cole repeated flatly, rather annoyed that she was made to do so.

" I see," Rupert murmured softly, taking his wand swiftly out of his jacket, casting an ominous shadow on the wall as he did so.
Now was the time to strike, before he lost his nerve. Rupert looked upon the muggle queerly, as if he were not familiar with acts of deviant behavior.

"What's that you have there?" the muggle lady inquired, leaning her whole body forward like a snake.

"Obliviate."

" Once we leave this place, you shall recall nothing of myself, my wife, or the child, it will be as if we never existed. Is that to be understood?"

The muggle known as Mrs. Cole nodded her head, her eyes glazed over, a disturbing milky white.

"Was anyone else here when the twins arrived? Does anyone know of them?"

"Only Janice."

"Ah, that will have to be taken care of..... Very well then, once we are gone, you shall fall asleep in your room, and most importantly, you shall remember nothing" Rupert said in very cold tones, his mind already contemplating the location of the muggle girl known as Janice.

"Remember nothing," the thin woman reiterated, her voice slack and unemotional.

"Yes, that's exactly right, " Rupert breathed, handing his wife the bassinet to place the tot in, who now was slumbering rather peacefully.

"Now off to bed."

"To bed . . . " Mrs. Cole whispered, her wispy bun of hair bobbing quietly as she walked in a trancelike state out of the room.

When the woman had left the room, Rupert let out a sigh of relief. It was done.

His wife however, did not bear the same attitude.

"Tampering with the minds of muggles?!" Elizabeth whispered furiously, her knuckles burning white on the handles of the bassinet as she unconsiously tightened their grip.

"It was the only way," her husband responded, and he did not sound at all apologetic.

"But you know the rules!" Elizabeth hissed, her chestnut curls shaking beneath her black veil.

"Well, we've already broken a few, why not the rest?" he returned offhandedly, shrugging his shoulders inside his grey wool vest.

"Rupert!"

"You'll thank me later, come on . . . "

The couple turned, striding to the doorway. Rupert took a final look back, noting with a shiver that the other child's gaze was still riveted upon him. Spooky.

He flicked the switch off and shut the door with a click.

The older brother laid in his bassinet sleepless for hours after that moment, staring off pensively into the darkness.

And in this it begs the question, if instead of fretting over what their friends and family might think of them if they were not as pristine as appearances would have one trust; supposing that the Scropes had adopted both children. Would fate still have tossed down the same hand of cards that were destined to be? Or would another future, one that was entirely diverse from the now determined reality that had yet to play out, have came to fruition?

We may never know.

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Authors' Notes: Yes, I know, wizards are not supposed to able to tell if a child will be magical later in life at a glance,
but I'm stretching it a little to serve my own purposes. Besides, it is possible that one in thousand or so wizards could have a talent that enables them to detect magical potential within infants at a young age. The reasons being why Rupert hasn't capitalized upon it is rather obvious, he's loaded with galleons for one. By the way, isn't Voldemort an awfully sinister baby?
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The Gods Of Mars