(A/N) I do not own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings
These are just drabbles I made since I have a hard time committing to a story until the very end.
King Thranduil was not happy. Last night he was partying with the elves and now he was in this street called "Private Dive" as he heard from some people.
Why would there be a street where people privately dive? Dive where? to mount doom? Psh, It's not like he cares anyway. He's too fabulous to care.
King Thranduil rolled his eyes while walking in the streets of 'Private Dive', he then noticed that the people were staring at him. He narrowed his eyes and scoffed.
"These peasants seems have the urge to look"
If only he could step on them repeatedly with his elk, he would in a fabulous heartbeat.
Thranduil stopped to think, maybe they should dive in Mount Doom. He smiled to himself imagining the scene when out of nowhere he heard a child's whimper.
He turned around and saw some a plank or something held by two ropes, he slightly kicked it and saw it swing. He scowled at it and took out a sword out of nowhere and sliced the plank then the rope holding it and began to look for the whimper he heard. Later, he would completely deny that he jumped backward in shock when the plank swung to his direction.
He kept going closer to the sound ignoring the children who were dumbstruck looking at him and their parents. The parents were trying to grab their children away from him- of which Thranduil was grateful for.
Little scoundrels.
Some even ran away screaming. This, Thranduil could not understand, why would they run? It slightly made his glamorous heart ache for a millisecond until he finally understood the reason for it as he tapped his precious chin (probably insured for 40 million or something) and narrowed his eyes looking like a great philosopher to which he is not.
It was spring! Thranduil shook his head, maybe he should have worn the flower crown instead? Atleast he knew why they were screaming.
"Tsk the wrong crown for the wrong season" He muttered quietly completely oblivious to the man staring gobsmacked at him holding a newspaper upside down from the bench right beside him. The man inched away from his and gulped.
As Thranduil was about to step forward to continue his hunt of the whimper to fulfil his curiosity, a child had a great audacity to hug him.
"Pwetty" It said, to which Thranduil couldn't help but fully agree on the declaration of the truth. This child was worthy he could tell. He'll make sure she'll live up to 10 years.
He had nothing against children, really nothing. He was simply not in the mood. So he shoved it away afterwards and looked for the said whimper when he saw a small leg in the corner, the body hidden from the tree. He went closer to the 'child' since he couldn't assume.
Who knows, it could be some kind of disease.
When he looked at it- it did look like a disease. His raven hair was messy (not the good kind) and was oily like he hasn't taken a bath in days, his body was lanky and malnourished but whar was most worrying was his skin. His skin was bruised to the point he looked like a tomato and it suspiciously had hand markings around his body (Thranduil could sense that these were fresh markings). Thranduil slightly grew concerned for the state of the boy until he notices his clothes, he bawled his eyes out when he saw them. They were above atrocious that he was ready to rip out his eyeballs and scream for bloody murder.
But aside from the clothes or the multiple bruises that it has, Thranduil noticed his eyes when he took a short glimpse at his face to check any bruises but instead he was rewarded with his eyes.
His eyes- his eyes were magnificent. A pair of the most mesmerizing green glowing orbs, the shade even the valiant or beautiful has not, a shade eerily similar to the greens of his once home, the greens of Greenwood.
But said beauty was tarnished by red- clearly from crying and tear tracks in his face- also clearly from crying. Unacceptable, eyes like those should only entertain the emotion of happiness.
He stepped forward but stopped when the child moved back and flinched. A part of Thranduil was insulted to the highest level. How dare he-
The child then looked up- still crying "Please.." He said softly. Thranduil's eyebrows shot up at the voice. It was just desperate, exhausted and hopeless that it broke his glittering heart. He was sure that if the child was an elf he would be fading and probably have faded.
That simple thought put him in advance-level father mode: boss fight.
He crouched down to level with the child and reached out a hand softly, palms open to show he doesn't have any kind of explosive with him. Only the gleaming sword hanging at his back.
The child regarded him for a minute until he noticed the sword which he gulped in fear at the man. He thought furiously of what the man could be, one things for sure is that he couldn't be an assassin. Assassins wore dark colours and clothes that made them invisible but this guy, this guy was -shining, like a disco ball.
"Little One, I am King Thranduil would you like to hold my hand and come with me?" He softly said. Eyes growing concern that seemed to settle a place in Harry's heart.
The child shifted slightly "I'm Harry"
Harry was conflicted. To go or not to go? The man was bizzare and scary yet comforting and warm and when he looked at his face, he felt like he was home. It's like he could trust him. He scrunched his face into his 'think face'. His mouth was pursed together looking like a pout.
Thranduil wanted to tie himself to a tree as he bit his lip from the utter cuteness. A little bit here and a little bit there and oh! The child could pass for a half-elf.
Still the child did not move and Thranduil's arm was straining.
"Come one Little One, I will not hurt you" He said already starting to feel the strain in his smile, one more minute longer and his eyes will start to twitch.
The child paused and slightly reached his hand and withdrew it quick to the irritation of on elven king.
Thranduil sighed.
"This is a once in a lifetime offer. My hands are utterly soft but can't say the same for you so if you wish to not go with me then I shall flee to the heavens of paradise" He said deadpanned and arms screaming in pain.
The child quirked a smile and held his hand.
"So Harry, what are the 3 things you must do once you get there?" Thranduil asked his adopted son.
Harry, now what could one say an average height for an 11-year-old but slightly taller to the delight of one elven king. He had soft, long raven hair swaying slightly in his shoulder tied with a small black ribbon.
There had been so much improvement ever since Harry met Thranduil, his eyes that were once filled with sadness was now filled with happiness and content. Harry could definitely say it was one of the best decision he has made.
"Stand like a king" Harry straightened his posture
"Good"
"Act like a king" He held his chin up and posed something king worthy.
"Check"
"Let you peasants do the work while you ride in your magnificent elk" Harry said as was carried by an armoured house elf to the top of his glorious elk.
He shifted to a comfortable spot on his own elk named Hedwig and placed both his hand in his waist, narrowing his eyes in the station of platform 9 3/4.
Witches and wizards alike gulped in the size of the elk and looked fearfully at the army of house elves wearing silver armour and carrying large pointy spears, not only house elves but also goblins with much larger spears and other various weapons while wearing the same armour as the elves all behind Harry and his elk.
No reporter tried to take a picture nor interview when they saw first-hand the first reporter who attempted at doing (who very much regretted the action).
Let's just say it was very unpleasant for both camera and reporter.
"Astounding, son you are ready"
"I will do you well Ada" Harry said then left to go to the train riding his elk with his house elves and goblins alike following him, all marching at the same time. The goblins pointed their spears to the audience parting them away for Harry and his elk to saunter through the train.
That was the moment the wizarding world knew they will never get a quiet year with that kid around.
Thranduil wiped a non-existent tear and sighed.
They grow up so fabulous.
"Wormtail have you seen my passport?"
Wormtail rummaged around the drawer and found a small booklet with "Passport" at the cover. He picked it up and opened it.
It said "Garry Rotter" accompanied with Voldemort's face wearing a black messy wig and round glasses.
"Yes, Master"