So, this idea came to me at about 4 in the morning while I was failing to get any sleep. As of yet, I have no idea how long this fic will be, hopefully somewhere near novel length by the time I am complete. The general idea for this fic is that each of the Harry Potter characters are the vessel for the essence of one of the greek gods. They don't receive any memories or anything of the sort, but if any characters seem OOC then you can just blame it on the fact that they are merging with a being many millennia older than themselves. Specific powers for each will be revealed as the fic goes on.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series, characters, or locations, just a copy of each book and my own imagination.
"Brother, Kronos has escaped the binding." The elder of the two beings spoke, his form indistinguishable by any means.
"Then simply put my brother, my friend, my confidant, we go to war." The younger replied from atop what could only be described as a throne of lightening. "Send Hermes out. He shall find vessels for us all."
Prologue
The night of Halloween 1981 was a strange one across the entirety of the Wizarding World. It was a night full of sorrow, anger, elation, and perhaps most importantly, the beginning of a new era. Halloween is believed by many of the wizarding world to be the night that the veil between life and death itself is at its thinnest. Which is why, when young Harry Potter did the impossible by surviving the killing curse, the resulting shockwave of magic caused many unforeseen consequences.
The shockwave was of such magnitude that it was picked up on magical sensors all across the country of England. The resulting mass of information being sent to the central sensor in the Ministry of Magic caused much damage through the building, it would be many years before everything was back to full function.
Another result of this shockwave caused much more lasting concerns for the Wizarding World as a whole. At first, at its point of origin, the color of the magic was a vibrant green, and had it continued moving outwards in that way, it would surely have slain many more than just the man who styled himself as Lord Voldemort. But no, shortly after this false Lord was removed from body, the magic seemed to transform itself, turning into a bright gold mist that seemed to wash over all magical inhabitants of Great Britain.
Beginning in the small village of Godric's Hollow, hidden in the west country of England, the shockwave logically moved outwards in such a way that the closest to its origin were the first affected. Little Harry Potter, being the closest to the blast, was the first one touched. The small lightning bolt scar carved into his forehead a direct result. And as it was burned in place, and as the young boy began to cry, a purple glow seemed to come from within.
The next to be washed over by the golden mist, was a much larger home in comparison. In its largeness also bore oddity though, for as you would expect this home did not grow in a rectangular fashion. But instead if stood tall in the sky, looking as if it had burst from the earth itself. This house, being quite full of inhabitants, was considered by many to be a shame to wizarding culture. After all, what proper wizard would name their home 'The Burrow'. It is in this haphazard house that lay asleep a large family even by non-magical regards. Molly and Arthur Weasley had found themselves blessed over the years with the joy of seven children, all boys save the last the lone girl of the Weasley family, little Ginny. And on this night, a mark burned itself onto her forehead. Almost in the exact location of the one on Harry Potter himself. But this mark differed from the young Potter boy's, for it was in the shape of a diadem and emitted a soft blue glow from it, almost the color of a vibrant sapphire shining in the sunlight.
Young Ginny was not the only of the Weasley family to be marked that night. No in fact, two others of the family received their marks as well. In a small nursery across the hall from her parents' bedroom in which Ginny slept, was her brother Ron Weasley, barely a year older than her and his forehead too began to burn that night. A small spear and shield glowing a deep blood red onto the young child's unmarred face, in the same spot still as the others.
Both children, having been hit with the mist at almost the same time, began to cry. This not being an unusual occurrence in and of itself led to the practiced ease with which both Molly and Arthur awoke at the same time, each of them going to a child. Molly left the cramped bedroom with the much too large bed and went across the hall to the nursery while Arthur rose from the bed and went over to the small closet space which had been converted into a nursery for Ginny. Arthur, being the slower to rise, reached the youngest child at almost the same moment as Molly reached the older. Both of them just in time to see the magic fade from the marks that would forever be present on their foreheads.
Just over the hillside, the same magic touched another child. In a strangely shaped house designed to appear as a rook in the game of chess, a young mother held her first child in her arms. They were both awake as the magic reached the ward line of the house and Pandora Lovegood looked down with a smile as she could feel the magic within her child changing. Unlike others who may have been panicked by such an event, Pandora could feel the energy within her child changing, and could tell that it was not malevolent energy. So when little Luna Lovegood began to cry and the small silver mark of a moon burned itself into her skin she was not at all alarmed, and instead went directly to comforting her child.
These were not the only children touched this night, two others, very similar in disposition but different in upbringing were also marked in such a way. Hermione Granger, the only of the children to be raised completely by non-magicals caused her parents much concern on this night. She was a quiet child, and already over two years old so it came as a surprise when the girl began to cry in the night. Being of non-magical origin themselves, her parents had no idea what to do when they saw the soft sky blue mark of a helm and spear. Their indecision soon left them as a pair of wizards apparated just outside their doorway and knocked loudly through the house. Answers would be soon to come for the couple which had been blessed with such a special daughter.
In a large manor style house not far away, but so covered with wards as to be invisible to the eyes of muggles, lay another child of similar temperament. Neville Longbottom was looking on as an attack against his family left him in a position like that of Harry Potter. The boy did not make a sound as he listened to the screams of his mother and father. The woman with wild black hair looked upwards from her actions granting the mother a small reprieve that the father would not receive, and as she looked upon the youngest of the small family, the image of a green cornucopia burned itself on the child's skull. His screams were drowned out by those of his parents as the wards around the large house finally fell and the aurors arrived to bring justice to those responsible for the brutal torture of two of their most respected comrades in arms.
Far to the north, in a loft in northern London, sat another small family of three. This family, unlike any of the others, still followed the old ways of magic. So, on this Samhain night they were still awake, waiting for the hour of midnight to pass so they could perform their annual ritual in celebration of the day. As such, with their beliefs being those of old, this family knew exactly what it meant when their daughter who was only four years of age had a small rose appear on her head that night. The sheen of the mark appearing the same color as that of her platinum blonde hair. And this is how Fleur Delacour became known among fellow veela as the blessed of the goddess Aphrodite herself. The child would bring great honor to her family, causing both parents to rise in position. Her mother to the spot of matron of her veela clan, and her father would rise to that of the French Minister of Magic from his current position as ambassador to England.
But it was not only children who would be touched by the gods and goddesses on this night. In another loft, further north still in the bustling city of London lay a man by the name of Sirius Black. Unfortunate as it was for him, he had been drinking on this night, trying to celebrate the holiday without the friend he called brother. Having been an accomplished wizard in his own right, he had placed warning wards on the Potter property, keyed to alert him when the much stronger fidelius charm on the property failed. Between both the alcohol dampening his senses, and the panic at the collapse of the wards, Sirius did not take notice when the golden power washed over him. It infused itself with him and altered his magic in the slightest way, adding its own golden energy to his own aura and marking him with the symbol of a winged sandal. With no notice of the pain in his forehead, Sirius apparated to the Potter house, already dreading what horrors he would find.
Having left most of his remaining energy lodged firmly inside of Sirius, Hermes flung his conscious to the one place that he believed there to be the remaining spirits he needed. Hogwarts castle was sure to be bustling with activity at this time of year and the remainder of the vessels he found would have to be from there. As he approached Hermes could see the bright flames of the students burning through the walls.
On the second floor, Hermes was able to find the first of his targets. The matron nurse of the school soon found herself glowing with a pure white laurel wreath adorning her forehead. She rose from her sleep in a panic, believing herself to be under some sort of curse and immediately went for the fireplace. One brief floo call to St. Mungo's was enough for them to send over a healer to aid one of their favorite interns of the past. The healer would arrive within the hour and would not be dispatched until the early hours of the next morning when all inhabitants of the castle had been given best diagnosis of their new marks.
Up another floor yet stalked the lithe form of Minerva McGonagall in the form of a cat. In this form she was not known to have a high tolerance to pain, so when the crimson symbol of a hearth appeared on the skull of her animagus form, she quickly collapsed, to be found by the headmaster's consultation of the school's wards shortly after.
It was at this moment that Hermes was conflicted, he only had enough energy left to reach one of his two destinations he had in mind. The Ravenclaw tower was well in the opposite direction of the headmaster's tower. Changing tactics, he instead rose the stairs towards Gryffindor tower, 'there is always an alternative' he mused to himself as he marked yet again another Weasley, this time the oldest child Bill, with the mark of a golden red hammer. The mark would not be as powerful upon this boy as he would like, but it would hopefully still be enough to see the fates appeased.
With a final burst of energy, Hermes flung himself towards the headmaster's tower. The headmaster, being a very busy man by the name of Albus Dumbledore, was still up at this hour. He was simply sitting in his office chair, eyes gleaming with awareness that was deceiving based on his years of age. Hermes came to a stop in front of the wise man and solidified so he was able to be seen. Albus, having honed his reflexes after many years of battle, drew his wand and pointed it towards the god.
"I do not have much time. Those that have been marked must not come to harm. The one that bears my mark shall be bound this night, he is not guilty of the crimes he is being accused but he must remain shackled. For if he does not then the world will suffer a far worse fate than that which we have seen. I do not have time for other warnings. Accept this blessing with our goodwill," and with that, the man flung himself towards Dumbledore into the man's skull using the last of his energy to burn a deep blue mark of a trident onto his forehead.
Deep within himself, Albus felt something stir, something altering his magic, and being a man with such experience, he too could tell that it was not a bad thing. In fact, he himself felt younger than he had in many years as he received a burst of power. He remained seated pondering the words of what he had no doubt were a god, a god it seemed who had disappeared from this plane for good. Reaching for a mirror he looked at the small mark on his forehead as it faded. Knowing that it would not be able to be hidden by magical means he took to wondering what others had been marked. At the same moment he was having these thoughts he received a floo call. The auror's office, calling to inform of the fall of the Potter's wards.
"There is much to do," he spoke to himself as he rose from his desk. Leaning down to the fireplace he sent out his own call through the floo, "awaken Hagrid, I apologize for the late hour but I have need of you to do something that I would entrust to no other. You must go to Godric's Hollow, the Potter's wards have fallen and I would have you look through the wreckage to see what you can find. There is a particular cloak that should not fall into the wrong hands." Albus ended the call and at the same moment another came through, requesting entry to the school by the healer sent for by Poppy. After granting it he rose back to his feet. "Yes this will be a long night indeed."
I believe that I shall end this prologue with a challenge to any readers it may have. The first who can identify the god represented by each of the 12 characters in this chapter and pm me with the list before the next chapter is posted will receive a prize of some sort. Perhaps a sneak peek at the next chapter, or the right to naming an OC in the later chapters in the form of the Ravenclaw that was supposed to have been marked.