Well, this is my first attempt at a Harry Potter/Lord of the Rings crossover.
Please be nice and give it a chance.
Well, enjoy the story!
-Lady Healer.
Chapter one: The boy who lived, gone.There are times when crossroads meet, and a single action at that junction can change the course of fate. Rarely do such opportunities occur within the Ages. Yet even fewer persons recognize the chance. Often they chose to believe that one person could not make such a change.
The beings of today had found themselves lost in a whorl-wind, forgetting the effect that each creature had on the fabric of Time. Some were too ignorant in the ways of the world to see it, believing that higher status had more power, the most influence in the affairs of humankind.
Yet, that was only a half-truth. Power did come with rank, but did not mean that it would influence the weavings of fate.
Time: a concept that deluded many beings' mind. Time was more then the hours in a day, or the months of a year. It played guardian to the secrets of our ancestors. It is our ally and enemy as we walk on the earth in the present. And time is our hope as we open the blank pages in the book of the future.
And each decision that is made, weaves a strand into the fabric of Time. Some of these threads end shortly after then had begin, but others grow until they intertwine with other yarns combining, causing revolutions in the future.
One such tapestry formed when Isildur chose to keep the One Ring, despite all pleas to destroy it. The pull from it had remained strong for many years until it finally faded when the ring was cast back into the fires of Mt. Doom.
But another tide began building on the horizon of the Third Age. When the time of the elves ended and the race of man was left to rule. It was at that time when a crossroad met. The elves had a choice: to heed the call of the sea and sail to the Grey Heavens or to remain in middle-earth for their immortal lives.
Many of the elves did listen to the sea's siren song. Through the years the mortal races of the world forgot the First-Born as their history faded into myth. But as hidden in the background as they were, the elves still subtly kept men from destroying the world around them. The eldar became silent guardians, watching the new children of the world forge a path of their own. Many years passed and magic dimmed to a faint memory; until a new age of magic began and mortals learned to channel wizardly magic.
The elves watched as a school of magic was built outside the borders of the last existing elvish home. It was there that they witnessed the rivalry sour between the four houses of Hogwarts. And throughout the years the First-Born observed both good and corrupt magic users walk the school's halls. But there was one line that the eldar kept close watch of: the descendants of Aragorn.
They had kept close tabs on the king's kin, silently protecting them when danger became too great. The line had long forgotten the Old Days and was unaware of its guardians. But the strength of old had stay strong within the line, despite everything. But even the best protection cannot last forever and the line of kings was left with one last heir before it too disappeared from the world.
And so on a cool fall night, a lone elf stood draped in the shadows of Privet Drive watching as an old man dressed in a robe with a purple cloak appeared at the end of the street. The man with half-moon spectacles fumbled in his pockets for an item for several moments before he paused. He looked around before his gazed stopped on a tabby cat and chuckled, slightly amused.
"I ought to have known." Again the man searched his pockets for the desired item, and this time he found it. Flipping a lid on a silver cigarette lighter open the old man held it up in the air and clicked it, causing the nearest light to go out. After several clicks the street was plunged into darkness. No human could have seen through the night.
The lone elf narrowed his blue eyes at the two. He had been waiting for them to arrive; yet as the elf studied the group, the being noticed that the most important member had yet to arrive.
"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall." The old man said as he turned and smiled at the cat that was no longer a cat, but instead a severe-looking woman with square glasses resting on her nose and emerald cloak around her shoulders.
"Are the rumors true, Albus? About what finally stopped him?" The elderly man did not answer as he placed a lemon drop into his mouth. A brief silence pass between the two before the witch sent a sharp glance at the wizard before continuing, "What they're saying is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are- are- that they're- dead."
Albus Dumbledore bowed his head and McGonagall gasped. And though the two magic users did not see, the elf in the shadows had also bowed his head in sorrow. And for a brief moment the others' conversation faded from his mind.
They had failed to protect the last of the king's kin. They knew that the current dark lord was after them, but the eldar had learned of the Potters plan to go into hiding by use of the Fidelius Charm with Sirius Black being the secret keeper.
It was a good plan with few flaws; Sirius would not betray them. And so the elves aided the Potters by protecting their secret keeper, yet Voldemort had found them anyways. The only way he could have done so was if the secret keeper divulged their location, which meant that the Potters had switched the keeper at the last moment. And the knowledge that they failed to protect the last of Estel's line had bereaved many of the elves.
But a rumor had reached their ears that one of the Potters lived through the attack. The young infant child had managed to survive and felled the Dark Lord. The elves knew in their very souls that this would not be the last the world saw of Voldemort and thus they had agreed that they would take the child under their own protection.
"You don't mean- you can't mean the people who live here?" The cry of the Professor McGonagall drew the elf from his thoughts. "Dumbledore- you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son- I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here?"
The elf silently snorted, knowing that the relatives were worst then what the woman let on. Their scouts had come and studied the new branch of Estel's kin the day after James Potter married and decided that Lily was the only kind and worthy one among them. The elves knew if the child were raised here, he would know no loving family, for his relatives despised magic.
But the elf remained silent as Albus began talking to his companion.
"It's the best place for him. His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."
'And be treated no better then a slave' the first-born thought before the elf listen to the woman's faint complaint.
"A letter? Really Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him! He'll be famous- a legend- I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter day in the future- there will be books written about Harry- every child in our world will know his name!"
"Exactly," Dumbledore replied. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can't you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he'd ready to take it?"
Again the elf silently snorted. Dumbledore was correct in theory, but he had forgotten the Dursleys' mannerisms. Their having custody of the child may cause the boy to crave affection or to shy away from attention and neither option would help the child when he would enter the wizarding world.
The eldar had neither faith nor warmth for the people who slept at number four, Privet Drive. The elf allowed the staff members' conversation to fade from his mind as he listened to a distant sound. Looking up into the dark sky, a small smile graced his lips as he spotted the last arrivals come in for a landing.
Finally, after waiting all day, the being he came for had arrived. As the giant man got of the motorcycle with a small bundle in his arms, Dumbledore said, a note of relief coloring his voice, "Hagrid. At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"
"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir." Hagrid replied. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got him, sir."
The elderly man smiled briefly, before he asked, "no problems, were there?"
"No, sir- house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol," answered Hagrid.
Silently, the elf stayed in the darkest shadow watching the Hogwarts staff members as they continued talking among themselves, until, the time came for them to say goodbye to their small charge. After whispered goodbyes, the three adults left the infant on the doorstep of number four for his aunt to find him in the morning.
But she never would find the tiny bundle. Perhaps if the trio had known that they would have chosen a different path, but no one can tell. Slowly the elf drifted out of the shadows and into the light of the relit lamps towards the child.
The first-born knelt beside the young boy, gently picking him up while pocketing the letter. The infant stirred slightly, turning, as his eyelids fluttered slightly. With a soft tenor voice the elf whispered soothingly to the child in the Sindarin tongue, luring the child back to peaceful dreams.
Another smiled graced his lips before he quietly said, "Let's go home, king's son." The elf walked down the street and disappeared into thin air.
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Hopefully everyone has enjoyed the chapter and I apologize for it being short. The next chapter should be longer.
Like? Hate? Let me know please!
