Before the story begins, I would like to say a few words:
Please note that all of the following characters, settings and obstacles belong to J.K Rowling and J.R.R Tolkien, and that I do not earn anything from these stories but the please of my reviews, favorites and follows, and that I write purely for the enjoyment of my readers and myself.
Please also note that some of this story - such as (as suggested in the comments) Middle Earth being in England, and the "Woodland Realm" having met the Harry Potter's characters, - will not always be as so-called 'logical' as one would expect. The story is oblivious and would not really work if thought about deep in the history of the two fantasy worlds.
I decided to write this story as the result of my pondering about what would happen if the novels came together. And, if I am not mistaken, some of you brilliant people are bound to have wondered this too.
So, having saying all of this, I hope you enjoy my chapters, and please keep up with the reviews, the favorites, and the follows, as this is what keeps me writing and keeps me inspired.
Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft And Wizardry, Scotland Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft And Wizardry warmly invites Thranduil Greenleaf, King Of The Woodland Realm, and his kin to our school. We take this opportunity to bring together our two communities, and consider this a good learning curve for our students, so that they can feel the present of another kind. Please join us on our open day and evening, and let us share with you the magical experience we endure at our school. From hereby stating this, we hope to see you and your Elven Kind (please do not hesitate to bring anyone else you wish) later on this month, precisely on 25th June, 1996. Many thanks and kind regards, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore (Head).
Thranduil, King Of The Woodland Realm, perched on his magnificent throne, watching the supernatural letter flutter about in the air in front of his eyes. A low toned, rough voice which must've belonged to an older man spoke in front of him, blabbering on about some sort of magical high school that welcomed Thranduil and his Elves to it. He grew impatient at the letter despite its unusual presence. Who knew a letter could talk? No one. But even so, Thranduil had more important things to do; watch over his precious kingdom of immortal Elves, and guard it from any harm that may arise. Mirkwood was full of surprises and The King had to keep his best watch over his Kingdom.