AN: I'm home! Gosh, nothing makes me appreciate home more than spending time with family. Love them dearly, but the head games have got to end sometime. I mean seriously, Pops is 83 years old. When does it end?
Over 400 followers. I'm stunned and humbled. I know this isn't the greatest story around the FanFiction website, but apparently it isn't horrid either. Thanks for sticking around folks!
Never Again.
Harry had taken his potions case and duplicated it. Duplicatam was a Conjuration spell he had learned in his Transfiguration book that duplicated items. The young wizard was chuffed when he managed to do the spell properly, not just once but twice.
The Gryffindor had cast an enlargement charm within the interior of the leather carrying case that he had put together for Éowyn and added more vials. He repeated his actions for the second leather carrying case while speaking to the young man sitting at the table beside him, "Éowyn has already agreed to carry that case of potions in order to help her people. I have a case and then there is this one. I've been thinking of who I could ask, who I can trust to use these potions wisely and you are the obvious choice.
"Each vial will heal most light to medium types of injuries: scratches, gashes, cuts, stab wounds, gouges, minor internal injuries and heavy internal bruising - external bruising needs a salve that I simply don't have the spare ingredients for. Those will have to heal naturally.
"The potions will not bring back the dead or dying, nor will they replace missing limbs. So if a warrior is that far along, don't waste the potion on him."
"Seems rather heartless," Merry looked into the case that was thrust before him, "but it makes sense to use them on someone it will benefit."
"Hmm," Harry hummed noncommittally as he had already turned his attention back to his biggest project since arriving in Middle Earth. He was bent over the stones, painstakingly etching runes. With a gentle breath of air, Harry blew the debris from his work.
"Harry?"
"Hmm?"
"What are these?" Merry had been asking numerous questions since Pippin left for Minas Tirith. Apparently the blonde missed his cousin and began following members of the fellowship around Edoras. The two cousins had exchanged a few letters - courtesy of Hedwig - and when he received word that Pippin joined the service of Gondor's steward 'with a uniform and a sword and everything', Merry was determined to be just as useful and became a squire to the king.
Harry continued to work as he spoke, "These are rune stones."
"That one looks like your scar."
"Sowilo," Harry pointed at each rune and named them, "Algiz, Nauthiz, Eihwaz and Fehu." The young wizard worked on three sets of each rune. He etched them again and again until the cuts were deeply embedded in each stone. "My best friend back home had taught me the basics on runes and I've been reading up on them when I've had time."
Merry hesitated, but Harry saw his movements and encouraged the young hobbit to handle the stones. The blonde ran a finger over the smooth face of a Sowilo rune stone, "What do they do?"
"Right now, they do nothing. Imbued with my magic they provide protections and will aid the one who wears them." Once more Harry pointed to each stone, starting with the one in the hobbit's hand, "Sowilo - sun, victory, power; Algiz - defense, shield, warding off evil; Nauthiz - endurance, survival, determination; Eihwaz - strength, reliability, dependability; Fehu - abundance, hope, success.
"I etch the rune into the stone, imbue it with my magic and then shrink it to fit into what I'm warding. Unfortunately I haven't really talked them into allowing me to mess with their armor yet, but I'm sure they won't fight me too much." Harry set down the stone he was working on and pointed at the crystal that Merry had picked up to inspect, "That is an agate crystal. Agate is a cryptocrystalline variety of silica, chiefly chalcedony, characterized by its fineness of grain and brightness of color."
"Wow, how do you remember all of that?" Merry blinked in surprise.
"I just read that bit about the agate crystals this morning," Harry admitted sheepishly, "Ask me again tomorrow and I won't know it from any other rock. The agate's properties are balancing energy, courage, protection, healing, and calming. It's why I needed that specific crystal.
"Anyhow, I read up on them because I wanted to make something for you and Éowyn that won't get in the way of when you're helping others and I wasn't sure either of you would be wearing armor for a set of stones such as these." Harry had pointed in the general direction of the set of stones he had been working on. "I'm going to etch an Algiz rune in it as well, but if you'd like something different, pick another and we'll see how it goes."
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
'No' was on the tip of his tongue, but instead he nodded, "Sure." Harry had no idea how the hobbit would help, but the blonde looked so eager. The young wizard looked around at the stones, leather straps, work cloths and various other supplies when the idea came to him. "These rune stones need to be smooth. If there are any rough edges, use this to buff it out. I have to do the etching because of my magic, but that will help me a lot. Then I can start imbuing and shrinking them.
"If you like, you can pick out which crystals we use for the pendants. There are shiny crystals and rougher ones." Harry picked up a small rock that was a dull red, "These aren't nearly as girly as the shiny ones."
Merry laughed, "I was wondering if I had to wear something like that. It's fine for Lady Éowyn."
The two worked together for quite some time before being summoned for sword practice. Harry perked up at the sight of all three Fellowship warriors, "Just the men I wanted to speak to."
"An' why would tha' be, lad?" Gimli peered at the young wizard, "Are ya up ta somethin'?"
"Me? Up to something?" As Harry blinked at the dwarf in faux innocence, Merry had to hide his huge grin. Legolas came around and took a seat beside the hobbit in order to take a closer look at what the two had been working on. Harry hadn't missed a beat and deadpanned, "I just wanted to make sure your armor was protected and reinforced… and this is the thanks I get."
Gimli huffed, "Ya never know when dealin' wi' a wizard."
Grinning unabashedly, Harry motioned towards the linked rune stones that Aragorn was currently handling, "I've created a rune chain of warding spells. If you let me put it in your armor with a permanent sticking charm, they'll protect you. They won't keep you alive if you do something silly like run out unarmed in the middle of a field of orcs. But it adds a level of shielding."
Harry continued explaining the meaning of each rune, how they were created and what he did to accomplish the feat. Gimli peered at the array of stones as Aragorn took a seat beside Harry. The ranger grinned at the young wizard, "You've been busy."
The reaction that was returned apparently surprised the man as Aragorn's eyebrow rose. Harry's humor had slipped away to be replaced by a haunted look, "I've lost too many people in my world: my parents, my godfather, Remus and Tonks, Dumbledore, Cedric, family, teachers, mentors, classmates, acquaintances and friends. My best friend, Hermione, was tortured and I was powerless to help her.
"If I knew even half of what I do now, things may have turned out differently. I made a promise to myself: never again." Harry ran his fingers gingerly over the runes, "I use my magic to stop the enemy. I use my magic to defend, protect and heal my allies. If there is a way to help those around me, to keep them from suffering, I will."
Harry was brought out of his spiraling thoughts when Aragorn gripped his shoulder firmly and gave it a supportive squeeze, "I'd be honored to have your aid. What do you need of me in order to place your runes within my armor?"
The wizard had debated which wand to use. His holly wand would do well enough, but the Elder wand held much more power even if it was more attuned towards destruction. In the end of his personal debate, Harry chose the Elder wand. He didn't want to take any chances with such intricate wand work.
Five chest plates were fitted with as much protection as the young wizard could muster: two plate mail, two chain mail and one leather. The rune stones were bound upon the armor, gently pulsing with his magic. King Théoden was told about the wizard's work at protecting the Fellowship and had allowed Éowyn to talk him into being outfitted with a set of rune stones as well. Éomer was reluctant to follow suit, but his sister was apparently quite good at convincing the men in her life to abide to her demands.
Théoden and Éomer were being strapped back into their armor when the doors to the Golden Hall were thrown open, causing Harry to jump in surprise. A large shimmering shield blasted forth, knocking Aragorn back a few steps.
The ranger shook his head to regain his bearings and pressed his hand forward to test the magical barrier as a distant bell rang.
"Ah," Harry grinned sheepishly, "You startled me. Sorry about that, yeah?"
"It's most impressive, but could you perhaps lower the barrier?"
"It's a shield actually," Harry canted his head to the side, "My magic is stronger here. Gandalf seems to think it has to do with Middle Earth being more magical than Earth where I was born. Personally, I think tha-"
"Harry," Aragorn interrupted, "the shield?"
"Oh," Harry blushed, "Right. Finite."
Théoden watched the exchange in amusement, "What brings the hero of Helms Deep rushing into my hall?"
Aragorn's attention was directed back to the man he had come to see. "The beacons of Minas Tirith are lit! Gondor calls for aid!"
The king stiffened at the news, his brow furrowed and hands clenched into fists as heads turned towards him for his orders. Théoden pondered his reply, but Harry already knew his own response because there was no other option. The wizard gathered his supplies and stowed his wand, preparing to leave.
"Then Rohan will answer. Muster the Rohirrim!" The Golden Hall came to life at the man's words. Théoden gave a small nod to his nephew and gave him the order, "Assemble the army at Dunharrow - as many men as can be found. You have two days. On the third, we ride for Gondor… and war!"
As Éomer ran from the Golden Hall with his soldiers in his wake Théoden called out again, "Gamling, make haste across the Riddermark. Summon every able-bodied man to Dunharrow!"
Gamling bowed to his king and rushed to carry out the orders given to him. Aragorn summoned the Fellowship to him and the four strode purposefully towards the room they had been issued during their stay. Harry had followed them and stood at the doorway, glancing behind him in time to see that Théoden had gone outside with his soldiers, leaving the Golden Hall virtually empty.
Harry watched as the Fellowship gathered their belongings and prepared to leave. Legolas had slipped his armor on and gave the wizard a startled look, "I can feel the warmth of your magic."
Aragorn nodded, "As can I."
"I dunno wha' you two are goin on abou'. I don' feel a thing." Gimli retorted, "Are ya sure ya did mine right?"
Harry smirked at the dwarf, "You're simply not magic sensitive."
Gimli huffed, "Sensitive, 'e says. I'm righ' sensitive… when it counts."
Merry slipped his agate necklace into his shirt, "I'm glad I'm not the only one. I didn't want to say something earlier."
The four were chuckling at Gimli's continuous claims of being 'sensitive, as it is in his nature' as they left the Golden Hall for what could be their last time. Harry paused at the entrance when he saw a familiar young man, "Sondim, please tell me you aren't going."
Sondim turned his troubled eyes to his new friend, "My father forbade me, but he has gone off with the Riders of the Riddermark."
Harry gave the teen's shoulder a comforting squeeze, "Your father is a strong warrior. I'm sure he will be fine. Besides I gave both Éowyn and Merry a stash of healing potions. So try to have a little faith."
"Will you ride with them?" Sondim gripped Harry's robe and searched the wizard's eyes for a glimpse of hope.
"We're supposed to ride to some place called…"
"Dunharrow…" Sondim prompted.
"Right," Harry gave a lopsided grin, "That's where we'll split. They said something about flanking the enemy. I'm not big on warfare strategy, but it sounds like a good plan."
Éomer's voice bellowed from below. The Third Marshal sat astride his horse as he called to the assembled soldiers, "Now is the hour! Riders of Rohan - oaths you have taken. Now, fulfil them all - to Lord and land!"
Harry gently pried Sondhim's hand from his sleeve and gave him a small nod, "Stay safe."
The raven haired teen hurriedly entered the stable and grinned in relief when he found his gray horse already saddled. Harry checked to make sure his cushioning charms had held and led the mare outside.
Soldiers, wives, squires and children were all out and about preparing for the ride to Dunharrow. Théoden sat astride his horse, alongside him were soldiers and the Fellowship. A flash of white caught Harry's attention and he smiled up at his familiar. Hedwig flew down and landed upon his outstretched arm, "Hello, girl."
The gray mare nervously side stepped before Harry pulled gently on the reins to come up beside Aragorn and Merry. "You have another letter, Merry."
"Thanks," Merry dutifully accepted his correspondence from his cousin and gave Hedwig a grateful scratch. Hedwig chirped happily.
Harry gave the bird a firm look, "We're heading to some mountain area. I will have a letter for you when we rest. Don't go wandering off too far."
Hedwig hopped onto her human's shoulder gave Harry a nip on his ear and settled in for the ride. Théoden chuckled softly at the bird's antics before turning his gaze at his people and their surroundings, "So, it is before the walls of Minas Tirith that the fate of our time will be decided."
"Grimbold, how many?" Théoden called out.
"I bring five hundred men from the Westfold, my Lord."
Having heard the request for a count, other Marshals of the Riddermark gave updates as well, "We have three hundred more from Fenmarch, Theoden, King."
"None have come from Snowbourn, My Lord."
Harry didn't slow to listen to the others calling out as they passed the masses of tents, horses and soldiers; his mind was already on setting up his tent and taking a hot shower. He had come to the decision that riding horses - while faster than walking - was only marginally better than a portkey… and he hated portkey travel. They moved slowly in a single file up a narrow zig-zag trail leading up to the mesa where they would set up camp.
At the top of the plateau there were already numerous tents set up for the night. Éomer had arrived shortly before they had and was removing the saddle from his horse, "Ah, little wizard. I see you survived another journey. We'll make a true rider of the Riddermark of you yet!"
The young man snorted and dismounted, twisting this way and that as he tried to get the kinks out of his back, "I still saying flying is better than riding."
Éomer chuckled and helped him remove the gray mare's saddle, "Come along, little wizard. I'll show you where you can set up your tent."
The two walked along with the other Fellowship members minus Merry who had disappeared to carry out some squire task for the king. Éomer pointed out a tent that was simple in design yet larger than some and not nearly as large as the one being pitched beside it, "That one is for Aragorn. He will be housed beside our king. Your tent can be on his other side."
"Excellent!" Harry immediately opened his school bag, drew his wand and summoned his tent. Setting the bundle on the ground, the young wizard tapped it with his wand and stepped back to watch it expand and snap in place. Harry grinned at the others and invited them in, "You're welcome to stay with me. There are beds inside that are much more comfortable than a cot. Plus I can duplicate them if we need more.
"In the meantime, if you'll excuse me." The wizard gave a small bow of respect, "There's a shower inside calling my name."
Harry entered his temporary abode and immediately went into the room on the left. He dropped his bag and searched for clean clothes, finding decent trousers and a shirt, but all of his pants were dirty. With a soft sigh, Harry used a quick scourgify and grabbed a towel.
The shower felt heavenly. Cleanliness was a luxury that he quickly learned not to take for granted. Upon exiting the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his hips, Harry paused long enough to do a double take. Merry was excitedly explaining to Legolas and Gimli about his new armor. The wizard gave the hobbit a lopsided grin, "I don't have any more rune stones, but I can etch them directly in your armor if you give me time to dress."
Gimli sniffed and wrinkled his nose, "Ya smell flowery."
"I'm clean. You smell like a horse." Harry wrinkled his nose and made his way to his room to dress in clean clothes.
Gimli had assisted the hobbit in removing his chest plate and sat to watch the wizard. When Harry exited his room he went to the kitchen before joining the others at the table. He handed each of his guests a bottle, once he had removed the tops.
"Cheers," Harry took a long swig from his butterbeer before setting the bottle on the table.
The raven haired teen set his tools out and plucked up the pen knife in order to set to work. Gimli sniffed at the contents while Legolas peered at the container. Merry sipped hesitantly and hummed in appreciation. "It's tasty, if a bit weak. Ale is stronger."
"That's butterbeer. You can't get it here. It's from my world and safe for teenagers to drink until they come of age." Harry carefully drew the chain of runes into the armor. "I have firewhiskey, but since we're heading into battle I thought it would be better to hold off on handing that out."
Legolas cautiously took a sip of his own, "Interesting taste, not disagreeable. The container is made of glass?"
"Yes," Harry wiped away the small debris from his work, "wizards in my world use glass often. Easy to clean, conjure and repair."
Gimli tipped the bottle back and drank it all in one go. He slammed the bottle on the table and released a long, loud belch. "Tastes like horse piss."
"I wouldn't know," Harry smirked, "I've never drank horse piss before. I'll just have to take your word for it."
The dwarf laughed good-naturedly and stood from the table, "Ach, ya daft lad. I'm off ta find me a real drink."
The elf set his now empty bottle on the table beside the one left by the dwarf, "I require sustenance. Thank you for sharing your…"
"Butterbeer," Merry prompted and took another drink from his bottle.
"Yes, a taste of your world," Legolas gave a nod and exited.
"I suppose it is an acquired taste." Harry just grinned at the armor as he continued to work. He brushed away the slivers and nicked his finger. Hissing, Harry pulled his hand away from the work and stared in surprise at the runes.
"They're glowing," Merry said in a hushed, awed voice.
"It's not a common practice to use blood in wards or magic. It is considered dark magic by many because of how one acquires the blood for most rituals."
"How…"
"Unwillingly taken," Harry pulled up his sleeve to bare his forearm showing the raised scar he received in fourth year courtesy of the rebirth ritual for Voldemort, "Not all rituals are evil or for evil purposes," Harry then raised his bangs to show the infamous Boy-Who-Lived scar, "some are sacrifices to protect others."
Merry peered at his friend, "That was blood magic?"
"My mother drew the sowilo on my forehead with her own blood when I was a toddler. The blood eventually washed off, but the magical intent was still there waiting," Harry fixed his bangs over his scar, "the night Mum was murdered it was sealed. She willingly sacrificed her life to save mine. When Voldemort turned his wand on me to kill me, the ward shielded me, bounced the curse back to him and created this scar."
"So if you die…"
"I'm not doing the same ritual that my mother did, Merry. You're a good friend, but I'm not sacrificing myself. I'd rather just protect you." Merry slumped in relief and Harry just grinned at the hobbit, "Well, the runes are complete. Let's get this thing imbued."
"Oh, and I have to get to the smithy." Merry patted his short sword sheathed at his side, "I'm supposed to get my sword sharpened."
"Hopefully you won't need it since you'll be in the back healing folks, but it is best to have it ready if you do." Harry stood and helped the hobbit put his armor back on. Harry was tightening the buckles when Merry gasped. The wizard glanced at the hobbit, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong. It's your magic," Merry blushed when he spoke, "it feels like a warm hug."
Harry woke with a start. In one fluid motion, the wizard grabbed his wand and pointed it at the intruder. Legolas appeared unfazed by the raven haired teen's reaction and spoke in a calm voice, "Your presence is requested."
"Legolas?" Harry rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he sat up.
"Yes," there was amusement in Legolas' voice, "You're being summoned to the King's tent."
Still half asleep, the teen swung his legs off the bed and straightened his glasses, "Is Aragorn okay?"
Laughing now Legolas clarified, "Get up, Istar and go to King Théoden's tent."
Harry slipped his wand into its holster, grabbed a jumper and pulled it over his head. He then put on socks and shoved his feet into his dragon hide boots. Combing his fingers through his wild hair, Harry asked, "Is someone hurt?"
"Not that I'm aware." Legolas backed out of Harry's room and into the common area of the tent where Gimli and Merry were putting on their armor. Both warrior and squire looked as sleepy as Harry felt. The elf, on the other hand, looked well rested and ready to face the day.
When Harry exited the tent, the young man groaned. "It's not even morning."
"The sun will rise in an hour's time." Legolas gave the wizard a knowing smirk, "He's waiting."
Grumbling, Harry marched over to the King's tent and stopped short when he entered. An elf - tall, regal, long black hair and wearing a circlet - stood inside speaking with Aragorn. "You ride to war, but not to victory. Sauron's armies march on Minas Tirith - this you know - but in secret he sends another force which will attack from the river."
"A fleet of Corsair ships sails from the South." Aragorn responded. The elf looked surprised, both by Aragorn's knowledge and the sudden appearance of a young man in strange clothing. The ranger looked behind him and ushered the wizard in, "Lord Elrond, may I present to you, Istar Harry."
Elrond's eyebrow rose to a great height in a very Snape like fashion and Harry grinned at the similarity. He greeted the man much as he had with Éomer, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Elrond. I am Harry, Head of the Noble House of Potter, son of James, The Boy-Who-Lived, and Vanquisher of Dark Lord Voldemort. I am a native of Earth, but here in Middle Earth some call me-"
"The Vanquisher," Elrond supplied.
Harry gave a polite - over exaggerated - bow, "At your service."
"You're quite young for an Istar," Elrond's eyebrow slowly lowered, but the doubt and questions that were unspoken, yet were written in his gaze, remained.
"True," Harry preferred Elrond's polite reaction to Éomer calling him a child, "I began my training at the age of eleven - which is the age all wizards and witches start on Earth. Where I'm from there are many more magicals than just the five known Maiar here on Middle Earth."
"You are not Maia." Though said as a statement, it was evidently a question.
"Nope," Harry shifted his weight from one foot to the other, wondering why he had been summoned.
"Yet you are powerful," Elrond observed. "There is hope then."
"There's always hope," Harry looked from Elrond to Aragorn, "Is it time to head towards the ships then?"
Elrond interrupted, "You're out-numbered, Aragorn. You need more men."
Aragorn frowned, "There are none."
"There are those who dwell in the mountain."
"Murderers, traitors - you would call upon them to fight? They believe in nothing. They answer to no one."
Elrond's voice grew stern as he moved his cloak aside and drew out a long black scabbard, "They will answer to the King of Gondor. Anduril, flame of the West - forged from the shards of Narsil."
Aragorn accepted the sword, grabbed the hilt and drew the long blade from its sheath. Harry stared in wide eyed wonder as the sword glinted in the firelight. The ranger slowly turned the blade, allowing the light to show the intricate etchings along the length. Aragorn's voice was awed, "Sauron will not have forgotten the sword of Elendil. The blade that was broken shall return to Minas Tirith."
"The man who can wield the power of this sword can summon to him an army more deadly than any that walks this earth." Elrond's stern voice was a deep baritone. Harry shuddered at the similarities between the elf and professor. "Put aside the Ranger - become who you were born to be - take the Dimholt Road."
Harry's gaze dropped to the blade in Aragorn's hands as he slid the long sword back into the scabbard and gripped the leather tightly. The future king of Gondor's blue eyes sought out the wizard's green gaze, "It is time."
The wizard had felt the weight of Aragorn's decision and knew that their path was decided, "Yes, sir." Turning to the elf, Harry bowed once again, "It was an honor to have made your acquaintance. Perhaps our paths will cross again in more… pleasant times."
"The honor is mine, Vanquisher." Elrond raised a fist, pressed to his chest and returned the bow.
Created spell(s):
Duplicatam - Transfiguration/Conjuration: Duplicates
