I know that this is a short chapter, but with the...NEW JOB! I'm not going to have ANY time to type, at least until I get used to this new job and schedule. I'm not abandoning this story! I just...it'll take me a while to get used to the time.

It also doesn't help that I found the wonderful world of .

I don't own Harry Potter.


The King and Harry were still in the Marshes of the Dead, Harry had seen almost a city full of ghosts floating under the water, each face looked decayed and gaunt. The sight of them sent Harry shooting back up onto the surface, especially when they would reach out and try to latch onto him with their rotten hands.

They had gotten a hold of him once, and as they touched him, he saw his own skin begin to take on the same worm eaten look that these specters had and begin to take on a ominous glow. He also felt a cold sensation creep up his arm and into face, as if there were small cold maggots trying to reach all over his body and burrow into his flesh. He had barely time to escape before the ghoulish figure dragged him down to join their ranks.

"Lad, were you able to see the stone?" asked the King.

"No, something else held my attention!" snapped Harry.

"Take it easy, we'll be able to get it, just calm down." said the King holding up his hands placatingly.

The King looked around the marsh slowly, sinking beneath the surface to search would not do them any good, especially if the specters were going to be malicious, and there were. They would need to find the stone, just to calm the spirits and allow them to rest at last after what felt like an eternity. But they needed to go where the spirits dwell in order to find the stone quickly. Unless...

"Come lad, we need to find the one candle that is unlike the rest." said the King.

"Say what?" asked Harry. "All the flames look the same."

"No...there is one candle that different." said the King. "We need to find it, I'm sure that is the easier way to go about this."

"Is that where the stone is?" said Harry stunned.

"I believe so, yes."

"Than why were you asking if I could see it underground?" shouted Harry angrily.

"The ruby we would be able to see easily, as opposed to the one candle different then the rest." said King Meandenbor slowly. "It'll take a little while longer, but we'll be able to succeed, hopefully without intruding on the spirits."

"Couldn't come up with idea before I get caught by those things..." muttered Harry.

"Being King doesn't mean that all the decisions you make is the correct one." said Meandenbor.

They examined each candle carefully, nothing was out of the ordinary for the countless candles that they had already inspected, and there were hundreds more for them to check. The day was ending and nightfall was beginning to fall. They were not rushing to find it before nightfall, but they needed to find the stone soon. For who knew when or if Frodo and Sam would destroy the ring, and that would be the only time to escape the tower.

But it wasn't just Frodo and Sam to worry about, there was also Voldemort, if he were to get to Minas Tirith and find the pearl...then there was nothing he could do against him...not if he still held onto the Jade stone. They would have to hope that Voldemort didn't know about the pearl and keep away from there.

As Harry was examining a trio of candles in front of him, the King's voice shouted out out. "Here it is!"

Harry floated as fast as he could over to where the King was and in front of where he was standing, was a white flame candle, they couldn't see it for the rocks that surrounded it. There was one body in the pool underneath it, a elf with long black hair. But Harry couldn't see the ruby right away.

"Where's the stone?" asked Harry.

"Look closely, the shield laying behind him." said the King. "It has the ruby lodged on it. Though, I'm not sure he knew the stone was there in the first place."

"So...how do we get it out." said Harry.

"Well, to start with, get the shield out of the water." said the King with a smile.

Harry looked at the King, and then down at the shield that was almost covered by the body. The ruby was in the middle and surrounded by ornate still shimmering diamonds. Harry dipped his hands in the foul smelling bog's water, he didn't want to touch the body that was beneath the water, but he noticed something.

He didn't have to touch the body, in fact, he couldn't. His hand went straight through the decaying elf and he could clearly feel the stone pulsing and radiating heat. He gripped the stone tightly in his hand and pulled. Despite the stone having been fused to the shield, it came out as easily as if it were just stuck in the mud.

"I got it!" said Harry.

But as he took it in his hand, the flames that hovered around the pool and the spirits residing inside erupted into the air and hovered over them.

"Oh dear." said the King.


Sirius stood along the deck of the ship, watching the countryside pass him by. He couldn't help but think of his godson, they were now on the straight path to Minas Tirith, where Harry was. He could hardly wait to see and hold his Harry once again.

He could remember when Harry came to his family home over the summer, Harry was almost running to him when he saw his godfather and wrapped his thin arms around him. Sirius returned the hug, holding the young boy close to him. Breathing in the scent of his beloved godson, it was a mixture of spices, seasonings, earth and a little sweat. How it didn't dawn on him that he was a cook when he smelled the cooking ingredients, he didn't know.

He would remember that scent, till the day he died.

He looked down at his sword, it wasn't a wand, but it was effective in this world. Thanks to Legolas, he was quickly becoming a decent swordsman, (mediocre according to a smirking Strider) though...he still suffered from a lot cuts that his swords did while they sparred, but he was almost able to land a few hits. Something that Legolas said that not many could do, unless they were lucky.

"We are almost to Minas Tirith, Black, let's have a few more lessons." said Legolas taking out his twin blades.

"Sure." said Sirius. "I'm not completely diced up yet."

Aragorn watched as Legolas and Sirius sparred on the deck, his face was plain.

"He's getting better." grumbled Gimli.

"He is, Legolas is a good teacher, seems that Black is more attuned to speed based attacks." said Aragorn. "He'll need all the skills he can get before we reach our destination."

"I wouldn't worry about him, I doubt these undead soldiers will leave even half a battalion to us to defeat, besides, orcs are not the hardest foe to beat on the field of battle." said Gimli. "They have no warrior training...it's either kill or be killed. It's the bigger foes we need to have him watch out for."

"You're right, he'd better not try and take on a troll, or worse..." said Aragrorn. Then off into the distance, they could see the tall white tower of Minas Tirith. "We are almost there."

Legolas and Sirius stopped sparring and saw the tower themselves. Strangely, a thought, (but it wasn't like a normal thought, it was like a daydream) came to Sirius' mind.

He was riding up to a large tower, with sword in hand and a shield and the reins of a fiery charger in the other. He then scaled the wall and climbed into the tower through the lone window. Inside was a bed, and his godson lying on the bed as if he were dead, gossamer curtains shielding him poorly yet gracefully from onlookers. His hands folded peacefully over his stomach, no breath escaping his lungs. He made his way slowly over to the bed, and bent over near his godson's head...

What the hell was he thinking?

Sirius shook his head and was rewarded with a smack to his side by the flat side of Legolas' blade.

"You're not paying attention." said Legolas pulling his blades back.

"I was just thinking...never mind." said Sirius. "Just ignore me. Let's get back to what we were doing." said Sirius.

"I was doing what we were supposed to be doing, you drifted off." said Legolas bringing his blade up to strike again.

Sirius couldn't figure out where that idea came from, it was just...weird, weirder than Gilderoy, Dazzle Gums, Lockhart. Merlin, he was a freak. He would never shut up and he would lie through his teeth and try and pump up his own ego. Not only that, but he swung and batted for both teams, but that wasn't the creepy parts, he liked the younger years, third years and under...he was a real piece of trash. And he and James made it a point to hex the nutjob every time they heard he had flirted with someone three years under him...he was weirder than anything he could think up.

Perhaps the King placed that idea in his head, but why? Was Harry unconscious somewhere? Was it his duty to wake him up? Was he cursed and only he could save him? What did that daydream mean? And did it mean anything, was he just panicking?


Harry dodged the grasp of the spirits clawed hands and tried to make his way back to the king, who was holding them off with blasts of light that caused whatever spirit it hit to disappear.

"Can't we just leave?" asked Harry.

"They'll follow us everywhere." said the King, sending a blast of light down to a trio of spirits that were getting too close. "There would be no point in leaving till this becomes resolved."

"So you just keep blasting them away?" said Harry standing behind the King.

"You can do what I'm doing as well." said King Meandenbor as he waved his hand, sending a dozen or so back to the murky depths.

"What? I can? ...but I don't know how." said Harry. Not that you've shown me how to do much more than float since this little jaunt started.

"Just think of what you want, you want these spirits to go, so just summon a blast from your fingers and the power will do what you want." said the King. "Experience is the best teacher."

He's in my head again. "How do I get started?" asked Harry.

"Take your hand, and want." said the King.

One malevolent spirit came close to them and Harry threw his hand up, thinking of only keeping this thing away from him. A warm glow erupted from the palm of his hand and suddenly a red and gold beam of light came from his hand and pierced the spiritual bodies of all that stood in front of him.

"...Woah..." said Harry as he saw the spirits regroup a few hundred feet away.

"Not bad for your first time." said King Meandenbor with a smile.

"Not bad? You're just shooting one bolt, I'm a whole wall!" said Harry with an excited smile. What's going on...I feel...funny...he thought to himself. He couldn't stop himself from sending wave after wave of pure energy towards the creatures before him. As if he was hungry for more power and to see the after effect of his labor.

"I'm using pinpoint accuracy, and I'm conserving energy, you're wasting it...see...you're already exhausted." said the King as he lifted the youth off the ground by his arm. Harry's body gave way and he began to sink to the ground after sending wave after wave of red and gold energy towards the spirits.

"Don't use up your power so quickly. It may be more powerful than most of the stones, but these have bigger limitations than any other power." said King Meandenbor. He shook his head, when he saw that Harry was completely knocked unconscious. "Now you're powerless, just like before." He slung the ghostly form over his shoulder and continued to blast the remaining specters to peaceful oblivion.

" You're stronger when you're flesh and blood it seems. You're a little power hungry this way...strange..." said the King.

He didn't notice, that despite the body of the boy being almost opalescent, there was a dark blotch inside him, growing larger and more visible. It was like a small black jellyfish, sucking onto his heart.


The orcs rested in the ruined city of Osgiliath, it was a long siege and a long day of battling. They had been bombarding the city of Minas Tirith for many days and many nights, they were getting tired, not that their orc captains would let them leave and return to their crude homes, and now with the newly arrived army of Rohan, they were quickly becoming weary, not that they would voice that.

They were waiting for the ships that would relieve them, and bring about the final attack on the greatest city of men. Once the corsairs were upon the shore, they would strike for the final time and take the city from the men who foolishly opposed them and in that one fell swoop, Rohan would also fall.

Then, a scout up in one of the ruined towers spotted the nearing black sails of the corsair ships come into the harbor, and slowly they pulled into the docks.

"Finally! Corsair scum!" shouted the captain of the orcs.

"We've been waiting for you blasted sea rats!" shouted another orc.

The ships came to a halt, and beneath the railing of the ship, Sirius could hardly hold in his laughter.

"These things are idiots!" whispered Sirius with a bright smile. "I can't wait!"

"Wait for it..." said Aragron. "NOW!" he whispered loudly.

They jumped over the railing and landed on the stone dock, drawing their weapons. The orcs stood in shock, staring at the two men, elf and dwarf.

"Yarrgh!" shouted Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli and Sirius. The four of them lunged towards the enemy, and the orcs began to sneer. That is, before the spirits that were on the boat, from the White mountains, came out and smothered the orcs and the countless ones behind them.


The King carried the unconscious boy as far away from the Marsh as he could, the poor lad wasn't waking up, but all he was was knocked out. Perhaps getting away from the bog and those fallen warriors would have a positive effect, fresh air and the ever present chill. He laid the boy down on the rocky ground and made a startling discovery.

"What on earth is that?" breathed the King, he nearly fell backwards in shock.

The black spot on the lad's chest finally caught his eye. It wasn't there before, but strangely, it had decided to appear in the Marshes, and grow to an immense size.

It was the size of his fist, and continued to pulse over the heart of the boy. Small black tendrils etched over the heart of the lad, and it seemed to grow with each passing moment.

The King removed one hand from the boy's head, and made the same glowing force he had used early surround it. Then he lowered the glowing hand into the boys' transparent chest, he grabbed a hold of the vile black parasite and pulled carefully. The slimy thing was not loosening, it was stubbornly hanging on. He sent his own thumb under the vile thing, taking care not to puncture it, and moved the thumb to peel off the thing carefully. He managed to release the tendrils from the boy's body, but he saw that there were more tendrils coming out of the blob. He had to work quickly.

He pulled as hard as he had dared, the thing was gripping where the boy's heart was, and if he pulled too hard...he didn't want to think of the consequences. And if his nail were to puncture it...

Finally, the thing loosened and it came off, twitching horribly in the air. The King looked at it intently, he had never seen anything so...twisted, vile, and wretched. This was dark magic, this was the most disgusting enchantment he had ever seen, this had to be... He waved his hand over it slowly and it became encased in the golden magic that trailed after him everywhere.

Harry's eyes fluttered open and he looked up at the King with the blackened blotch suspended in the golden mist. He groaned and rubbed his head, trying hard to sit up. "What...what is that?'

"This came from you." said the King holding out the blotch and pushing the boy down gently to the rock beneath him.

"What the hell is it?" asked Harry in a whisper.

"This...is a powerful bit of dark magic. This magic will enable the caster to in a sense, never die. They slice their soul, almost to shreds, and fix it to objects, mostly inanimate...it's very rarely attached to a living thing." said the King.

Harry's face turned white.

"This, wretched thing," he gestured towards the foul thing hovering in the mist. "made you a Horcrux."


Thank you for reading! Please review!

I hope that I can get used to the schedule so I can get back to writing!