Title: Fighting Another War

Author: CrimsonSnowflake

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and the Lord of the Rings belong to J.K Rowling and J.R.R Tolkien, all the copyrights associated with HP and LOTR belongs to them. Only the ideas contained within this story are the property of the author. No profit is being earned by the writer of this story.

Rating: M

Result of last chapter's contest: Congratulations to Aimi-chan! You are the lucky winner of a oneshot of your own choice. The only demand I have is that Harry has to be the main character, the rest of it is up to you! :D

"I still find a day too short for all the thoughts I want to think, all the walks I want to take, all the books I want to read, and all the friends I want to see." John Burroughs, 1837 - 1921

Chapter 38:

Kings Cross

Ba-dum.

Ba-dum.

Ba-dum.

He woke to silence. The sound of his own heartbeat was the only thing he could hear through the oppressing quiet. His flesh was untainted by the spilling of his own blood and his entire being completely devoid of any of the pain that being stabbed usually brought with it. A strange sort of tranquillity had settled within him, rendering him unable to think and only capable of feeling. And feel he did. Each and every one of his senses seemed to be heightened to a great degree. The cold surface he was lying on stung harshly against his bare skin, a stark contrast to the warm air brushing against him from above. Harry could feel his own pulse, his sensitivity so much enhanced that he could even feel his own blood rushing through his veins.

Stiff as a board Harry sat up, flexing his muscles, clenching and unclenching his hands. He was alive. Against all odds he was still breathing, still feeling, still living. Disbelieving green eyes scanned his surroundings. He was in a hall even bigger than the Great Hall, white tiled floor stretched out in the open space, impeccably clean. What stood out the most, however, was not the size of it, nor was it the cleanliness and not even the fact that it was entirely empty. No, what really drew Harry's attention was the great, domed glass ceiling glittering in sunlight. It was so familiar and distinguished that Harry immediately recognized where he was. Kings Cross.

Yet this discovery was hastily pushed to the back of his mind as whimpers and cries drew his immediate attention. With quiet and careful steps Harry made his way in the general direction which the sounds came from until he came across a small, naked child stuffed away under a seat as if unwanted. It was a hideous looking toddler with rough and raw skin, looking almost flayed. He took a step back, torn between comforting the distressed being and listening to the part in him that screamed at him to stay away.

"A shocking sight, is it not?" A familiar voice came from behind.

"Is this..." Harry trailed off, so transfixed with the sight before him that he was frozen, unable to turn around and take in his former headmaster.

"Yes, it is."

Harry drew in a sharp breath and defied his instincts, taking a couple of steps forward until he was crouching by the infant. Trembling fingers reached out, caressing the baby with light strokes. The skin felt just as rough as it looked to be, almost like leather. With a swift movement Harry flipped the blanket covering the child's head, revealing a wrinkly, grimacing face. A resonating shriek came from the baby, prompting Harry to move. Gently, he scooped the infant into his arms, shushing and lulling it into silence.

"There is nothing you can do for the child, my boy. It is beyond our reach and has been so for many years now."

"So you want me to just leave him here?"

Sad blue eyes turned to gaze at him. "You have to. This is simply the manifestation of the horcrux Tom unwittingly planted within you—the horcrux which is now dead. Leave it."

"I need to—" He cut himself off, viciously chewing on his lower lip while looking around, searching for something. Harry rubbed at the fabric of his cloak, considering it before unclasping it and—careful not to jostle the child too much—removed it from his shoulders. It was rather ironic how gentle he was when wrapping the cloak around the infant, considering what it was and who it originated from. But Harry couldn't find it in himself to treat the child the way most people would've thought it deserved. Harry had, himself, experienced the cruelness of neglect and hatred at an early age and so due to that he treated the baby with utmost care.

"If I have to leave him," He gently laid it down on the seat it had previously been stowed under. "I can at least provide him with some warmth."

"Kindness can go a long way, my boy, but I am afraid that in this case it is a lost cause." Said Dumbledore as he steered Harry away from the infant. "Now, let us get on with what we are both here for, your choice."

"My choice should be obvious, shouldn't it?" A wry smile spread across his face. "I should be jumping up and down in joy, ready to head back to the wizarding world, shouldn't I?"

"Should you?" Dumbledore questioned as he took a seat on the green bench behind them. "There are no expectations here Harry, only your own."

"No expectations? Of course there are expectations. Everyone in the wizarding world expects me to return to them, and everyone I've gotten to know in this new world expects me to come back to them." He dragged a shaking hand through his hair, white teeth latching onto his lower lip in an agitated manner.

A quiet sigh escaped the old man as he thoughtfully ran a wrinkled hand through his long, white beard. Blue eyes shone with emotion as Dumbledore turned to look at Harry. "I have lived a long life, Harry, a long life filled with both regrets and happiness. Many mistakes have I made, most of them, I'm afraid, concerning you. This time I will make sure I do not make one of those mistakes and that you make a choice you can live with."

He waited for a moment, as if catching his breath. "It is time, my boy, that you follow your heart and think of your own well-being, rather than that of others. Be selfish."

It was bound to have happened, really. From the moment he met Harry he had known that something like this would occur. He hadn't known how, nor when, but he had known it would. Perhaps, considering this, it had been foolish of him to encourage the relationship between Harry and Legolas. Perhaps they would have been better off on their own. Many what ifs ran through his mind as he observed his surroundings. Gandalf had seen it the instant Legolas had laid eyes on his lovely counterpart. There was something in the air that surrounded them that practically screamed that they were destined for each other. Maybe that had been the deciding factor as to why he chose to support their union. Who knew? What did it matter? All that mattered was the fact that Harry was dead and Gandalf dreaded the moment when Legolas would discover it.

Only once before had Gandalf witnessed an elf losing his—or her for that matter—mate. It was a dreadful sight, one he was not looking forward to seeing again. The last time—despite the 400 years that had passed—was still fresh in his memory, a dark and gloomy thought which had never quite been wiped out. He could still remember the feeling of utter hopelessness, as if all light had been sucked out of the world right along with the elf's mate. There was no doubt in his mind that Legolas' reaction would be despairing, and he was absolutely certain it would affect those around him. As if Harry's death wasn't heartbreaking enough.

There was much to hate about an elf in mourning, Gandalf mused to himself. The complete lack of consideration for others, the despair of seeing such a beautiful creature turn so unsightly, but most of all the fact that all those around the elf would feel the same sorrow and loneliness on top of their own feelings, heightening their mourning. So, considering these facts Gandalf could honestly say that he did not look forward to meeting Legolas.

Leaning heavily on his staff Gandalf moved down into a crouch, grey eyes taking in the sad sight Harry's body was in death. "Oh dear..."

It was quite obvious that Harry had been met with no mercy from his murderer. Three gruesome looking swords were firmly implanted in his belly, sticking out in different angles. Various cuts and bruises littered his young friend's body, a record of how Harry had faired during the battle. What really got to him, however, were those green eyes—usually vibrant with life—glazed over and unnaturally dull.

"Gandalf!" Pippin came shouting, a joyous smile splitting his face in two. "We won! We actually won! We should get Harry and—"

"I am afraid that it is too late for that, Pippin." Gandalf gestured to the corpse before him.

"That's not possible..." The hobbit's flushed cheeks were immediately drained of all colour, turning a sickly white as Pippin came to a staggering halt before Harry's body. "I mean, he's Harry, he's not supposed to die."

"Harry's not supposed to die, Gandalf!" Pippin sunk to his knees his trembling hands reaching out to clasp onto the fabric of Harry's tattered shirt and turned large eyes, brimming with tears, to stare accusingly at the old wizard—as if Harry's death was somehow his fault. "Everyone were supposed to come out of this war unscathed, and Harry...he...Gandalf, he promised! He promised me he would stay safe."

"Everyone is supposed to die, Peregrin Took." Gandalf sadly replied. "It is a natural way in life, neither you, Harry nor I can control it."

A wrinkled hand moved to caress Harry's pale face. With a gentleness that clearly portrayed Gandalf's affection, he brushed away a couple strands of hair that had obscured the view of their friend's features. Calloused fingers softly caressed the pallid skin, almost as if imprinting the feel of Harry's flesh into his own.

"One way or another we are all meant to leave this world," The wizard continued, a far away look in his eyes. And, moving to face away from his young friend, whispered to himself. "We shall see if this truly is Harry's time."

"And Legolas? What of Legolas?" Pippin persisted. "How will he cope?"

A displeased glint entered the old wizard's grey eyes as he looked upon the weapons which had robbed Harry of his life. Without hesitation he gently extracted the swords, making sure not to rip any skin. Disgusted he hurled the swords away from him, throwing them as far as he could. He wanted them nowhere near Harry. And, with a strength that belied his age, Gandalf grabbed a hold of the younger wizard, rising to his feet while cradling Harry to his chest. Gazing down at a concerned looking hobbit he allowed a small reassuring smile graze his face and gestured for Pippin to walk with him.

"Let us find some place else for Harry to properly rest."

Pippin's question remained unanswered.

"If you had gotten another chance at life," green eyes regarded the now darkened ceiling, the sun no longer shining upon the glass dome, "would you have done anything different?"

"Death is a life changing experience, is it not?" Dumbledore mused, a small smile decorating his face as his blue eyes twinkled like never before. "It makes us realize things we never would have thought of in life."

A silent sigh escaped the confines of Harry's mouth as he rolled onto his stomach, gazing up at his old headmaster under a curtain of dark lashes. Wryly he smiled. "That doesn't really answer my question, you know."

"Yes, I would have done many things differently." It was easily admitted.

"Me too." Harry agreed, momentarily closing his eyes. There was something so peaceful and calm about his surroundings that made it incredibly easy to open up, to admit things he would usually keep to himself.

"It is good then," Dumbledore spoke, "that you have the option to go back and do just that."

Harry hummed, his teeth latching onto his lower lip, abusing it for a few seconds before releasing it again. "It is...so long as I manage to decide where to go. And who knows, maybe the choice I make will be the wrong one."

"If you let your heart do the thinking," Dumbledore moved into a crouch, kneeling before his student in order to poke at Harry's chest, "and keep your brain out of the equation," he lightly patted the young wizard's temple with his index finger, "everything will turn out as they should."

"You know, I've missed you. All of you, even your quirky sides." Harry quietly confessed.

"Well, if I may say so myself, I do know how to leave a lasting impression." The wizard chuckled, stroking his beard. "Though I am delighted to say that I may have rubbed off on you in that department. You've left quite the impression on me as well. I've missed you too, Harry."

Indescribable warmth flooded him at the realisation that Dumbledore thought just as warmly of their relationship as Harry did. He had always known that his old headmaster favoured him more than some of the other students—it had been difficult to miss really—but to what extent he had never been aware. Until now that is.

With a small grin playing at his lips, Harry pushed himself up to his knees, leaning back to rest on his heels. Green eyes darted back and forth, taking in every detail upon Dumbledore's face as Harry cocked his head to the right. Dark hair shifted along with his movements, revealing the jagged scar he was oh-so famous for. Silence stretched on between them as Harry continued to stare at his older companion, observing every little detail while seeming to ponder over something.

"Do you think they will forget me?" It came out of nowhere. A fleeting thought absently aired.

"You'll be remembered. They will move on and eventually you will be nothing but a far away memory. But you'll always be remembered: Cherished."

"You're certain they will move on? All of them?" A dark eyebrow rose, enhancing the inquiring look covering his face.

"Good." Harry stated when seeing the old man's confirming nod. "Then I can leave with a clear conscience."

"You have come to a decision." It was said more as a statement than a question. Rising to his full height, Dumbledore gestured for Harry to follow him—everything was performed in fluid motions, powerful and graceful. Just like the man himself.

"I have." Slender fingers moved up to rub at his neck while Harry gently rolled his head from side to side, wincing each time his fingers came across a rather painful knot of muscles. He followed the older wizard at a more sedate pace, taking this last opportunity to memorize everything around him. Even going so far as allowing his hands to skim the surface of the walls, imprinting the feel of the tiles into his memory.

"How will this work then? Me returning I mean." He absently inquired, not looking at Dumbledore, but rather continued observing everything around him.

"Oh it is all quite simple." The wizard cheerfully began, reaching into his pocket and retracting a Lemon drop before popping the candy into his mouth. With a pleased hum Dumbledore sucked away at the candy, showing no signs of being phased by the sour taste that was no doubt spreading across his taste buds. The sweet had successfully distracted the man.

And as if a light bulb had suddenly lit up in his mind Harry saw exactly how much of an oddball the old man really was. He'd never really thought about it before, but Dumbledore was delightfully original. The brightly coloured robes, the pointy hat with matching colours, the long, white beard that went all the way down to Dumbledore's stomach and finally the half moon glasses that was firmly perched on the bridge of that slightly crooked nose. He must have broken it sometime in his past, Harry mused.

"Well?" A small smile shaped his lips when he saw the surprised, almost astonished look crossing Dumbledore's face when Harry aired his question. "How is it simple?"

"Pardon?"

"You were just about to tell me how I'm supposed to get back." Harry explained.

"Oh! Yes, yes. As I said, it is all quite simple. All you have to do is sleep." A light chuckle slipped past thin lips. "Delightful isn't it that something so plain and basic can solve something so complex."

"Sleep huh?" White teeth flashed as a crooked smile lit up Harry's features. "I can manage that."

"Otherwise I would've been concerned." Dumbledore chuckled. "Now, you just lay down here and allow the Sandman, as the muggles say, work his magic."

A single, fluffy pillow appeared out of thin air to settle in the old wizard's lap. With a mere shrug of his shoulders, Harry carefully lowered himself to the ground. The hard floor was a sharp contrast to the soft pillow cradling his head, but somehow Harry couldn't find it in himself to mind. He was going home. Nothing, especially not something so fickle as having to sleep on a cold, hard floor, could dampen his spirits now.

"Watch over them for me, will you?" Harry whispered, already feeling his eyelids growing heavier.

"Of course."

And as if a switch had been flipped off, Harry's breathing evened out and his consciousness left Kings Cross train station.

It felt as if he was swimming through murky water. Everything around him was dark and continuous waves of...something kept trying to push him back. He could hear voices all around him, however muted they were. Familiar voices at that. A sharp light appeared before him, cutting straight through the darkness and filling him with renewed energy. With a sharp gasp Harry opened his eyes.

His entire world was flooded in white before all he could see was blue. A lovely, stormy blue that he wanted nothing more than to drown in. A gorgeous hue of blue that made everything in the world seem right again.

"I love you."

A/N: Wow...just wow. I have no idea whether I want cry in sorrow or laugh out of joy right now. We've finally reached the end my loves. Harry has fulfilled his destiny, the horcrux is gone and this story and it's plot has finally been completed. All that is left now is the epilogue.

I'm going to take the opportunity now, instead of waiting until the real end, to thank each and everyone of you darlings who have stuck with me till the end. I mean, this has been my first story(my baby!) ever and what a journey it has been. Writer's blocks have been hurled at me more times than I would've liked. I had to change beta at least two times. And even through all of this and the three years it took me to finish you have all stood by me and encouraged me. I can honestly say that I love you guys!

And then, of course, we have my lovely beta, KapaTea, who, no matter how many times I sent an e-mail begging desperately for help, always managed to calm me down and help me get back on track. It is, just as you said, exciting to be so near the end and to mark this huge event I would like to dedicate this chapter to you! :D

Hugs & kisses from a rather emotional author,

CrimsonSnowflake.