"I ssseee the eye. . ."
"What does it command?"
"Patiencccce. . ."
"You ingrate! Tell me now, or you will suffer the dire consequences!"
"My lord must be patient. We must not rush these thingssss. . ."
The Dark Lord sat tapping his fingers, his precious patience waning with the fading dusk.
"Ahhh," slithered the curling voice with a slight snigger. "I sssssee the eye. . ."
The impatient lord slammed his fist down on the black table.
"Fool! You have said that once before!"
"Have I now? Ah, yes. But have I said that the eye commands of his superior-"
"What!? What? Tell me now, idiot!"
"Join forces with the overlord. Together, you shall be unstoppable."
"And if I refuse?"
Silence.
"He will destroy everything you have earned throughout the years. Your followers, your title, and you."
Voldemort contemplated this ultimatum.
"What will I get in return?"
"Unstoppable power." replied the voice immediately.
Voldemort paused for a moment, and then slowly smiled.
"Tell your overlord he can expect only the best out of me."
"It isss done. . ."
Voldemort sat up with a sigh.
"I've done my part, wretch. Now you must fulfill yours."
"What mussssst I do?" the voice slithered with obvious disdain.
"Find me the creature Gollum. Bring him to me or your overlord. We shall have good use for him in the near future, I gather."
The voice groaned miserably, and Voldemort growled.
"NOW!"
Wormtongue scampered off into the darkness.
Friday was The Three Broomsticks most busy night. Madame Rosmerta was practically sliding butterbeers three at a time across the chestnut coloured bar top to loyal patrons, and the entire pub radiated a jolly and warm cloud of friendliness and welcomed strangers and regulars alike. Any normal patron at The Three Broomsticks would have paid little attention to the trio in the back of the room, even though they (a raven haired, grey eyed beauty, a frail looking old man, and a very handsome fair haired young gentlemen) looked quite misplaced, no one paid much attention to them.
Arwen and Legolas had just gotten their first taste of butterbeer.
When Gandalf had asked them if it was adequate for their tastes, the elves responded by ordering seven more of the brew, therefore adding a handsome sum to old Gandalf's bar ticket.
They figured he deserved it.
And so, Gandalf told them the greatest tale they had ever told.
Gandalf began with the changing of the world, and the choices of the Valar. He told them of Arwen's ancestors, who, on inheriting Lady Evenstar's father's rare elven magic, had evolved into wizards and witches. Gandalf told them of the evolution of Legolas' old home, Mirkwood, and how it had developed into more of an ominous background, fittingly named, The Forbidden Forest. He told them of Quidditch, Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts, house elves, and Voldemort. Gandalf literally told them about everything.
And other stuff, like post its.
At great length, the old wizard finished his tale.
Arwen and Legolas looked at each other, before taking a large chug from their glasses. Arwen pried herself apart from her mug, and sighed before saying the first word.
"Well, Mithrandir. . that. . . that's quite a story." Arwen said awkwardly. The two elves were still adapted of their new native language, complements of Illuvatar and his Valarian buddies, so they didn't speak much.
Legolas sighed and rubbed his eyes.
"I still don't understand a few things. Why us? I mean, I'm not anything unique, and no offense Lady Arwen, but you wouldn't be my first choice to send back to the land of the living to. . . er . . . heh, heh, um. . Gandalf, what did you say the High brought us back for, again?"
"To defeat the new dark lord, and help destroy an old one."
"Oh."
"Why us?" Arwen reminded him.
Gandalf merely smiled his old mysterious smile, before taking another drink from his mug. Arwen and Legolas knew a 'don't bother asking, I won't tell you' look when they saw one.
"All right. We understand. But what are we supposed to do while we're here, anyway?"
"Your task, as I have been given by the Valar, is to enter the Academy of Hogwarts for young aspiring witches and wizards, as professors."
"Professors?" Arwen spat increduously. "But what do we know about modern magic?!" she demanded.
Gandalf leaned forward on his elbows.
"What do you know about anything?" he asked softly.
And then it hit Legolas. Hard.
"Everything." he murmured softly. Arwen's face fell in realization.
"We know everything."
Naturally, this would be a shocking discovery for one to realize that he or she suddenly knows everything about everything and anything. Gandalf seemed to know this as well, but didn't feel any sympathy for the two young elves.
"You are no longer Arwen Undomiel of Gondor and Rivendell. Your father and mother are no longer Elrond Peredhil and Celebrian of Lorien. As of now you are Cassandra Odette Davis Averill. You were born in London in 1979, your parents were Maggie and Jefferson Averill. They perished when you were ten years old, and your twin brothers looked after you and trained you themselves to be a witch. You currently work for the Ministry as an auror, but are looking for a more relaxing job that offers more time to yourself."
Arwen felt a single tear fall from her eye as Gandalf's gentle but stern elderly voice told her just who and what she was.
Gandalf turned to Legolas.
"And you . . ." he said with a crooked smile.
"Can no longer act like a prince."
Legolas frowned.
"You are Alexander Jefferson Davis Harrison. You were born in London as well, and you are the only son of Odette and Scott Harrison, you are Cassandra's cousin, related by your father," he pointed at Legolas, "And your mother," he pointed at Arwen.
Arwen sighed.
"Is all of this really necessary?"
"Of course!" responded Gandalf immediately. "And most importantly," he began in his sternest most adult voice. "You must not allow the students or faculty of Hogwarts to discover . . . your unique source of identity."
"You mean-"
"That's right. No one, except for Professor Averill and Professor Harrison can know that you are elves."
Legolas sighed.
"All right. We enter with our new idenities into Hogwarts School Of Wizardry and Witchcraft as Defense Against the Dark Arts professors, and by some miracle, aptly teach the little. . .children . . . What then?"
Gandalf paused.
"Wait."
"Wait?" the pair of elves repeated increduously.
"Wait." repeated Gandalf simply.
Legolas and Arwen turned to each other with wide eyes.
"But," said Gandalf, rising, "Until then, I suppose I should set up a job interview with Albus Dumbledore."
"Is that so?" said another soft and gentile voice lined with age. Arwen and Legolas paused, and then slowly turned around to meet Gandalf's identical twin.