Disclaimer: I' m planning to conquer the world and steal them but my army isn't ready yet. Ask again later.

Thanks to sabriel-chan, Alynna Lis Eachann, Cheysuli and The Mad Fangirl for reviewing. The Mad Fangirl, did you receive my reply? Now and then, I have some problems with my e-mail and I'm not always sure people get my messages. Did you?

Voldemort and the Fellowship have met. Inquiring minds want to know. No one has a more inquiring mind than children and elves. Except hobbits. Currently absent from this chapter hobbits.

Chapter One: Ripples

In the Gryffindor Common Room, Harry Potter could still hear the echo of his screams. The pain from his scar on the forehead was even now fading to a mere throb and his fingers relaxed, relinquishing their grasp on the carpet beneath him.

"Harry? Are you okay?"

He opened his eyes. Ron, his best friend, was leaning over him. Hermione, his second best friend, was hovering a little further. She was keeping the others students at bay to give him some space. They didn't try to rush past her.

This year, somebody amongst the Gryffindors had put two and two together and found four. In hindsight, they had realised that Harry often seemed to find himself in dangerous situations and that his scar was hurting only when something was up. And that something had often to do with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the dark wizard that everyone had thought dead.

The previous years, Harry had seemed to attract strange events like honey attracts flies. That had raised some questions but strange events happened all the time in the wizarding world. So, mostly, the other students hadn't paid a lot of attention to these situations. But last year, during the Triwizard Tournament, these events had involved the disappearance of Bartemius Crouch, the head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation and the death of Cedric Diggory, another student of Hogwarts. Harry had been found wounded and delirious, claiming that the Dark Lord was back.

The Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, had confirmed this. And even if the Ministry of Magic kept denying the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the students believed Dumbledore. There were proofs of his return. During the summer, dozen of Muggles and wizards had disappeared. Today, the students were safe at the school protected by Professor Dumbledore but they were afraid for their family. A lot of them had subscribed to the Daily Prophet to keep up with the events outside Hogwarts and they had asked their parents to write every day. But the Gryffindors knew there was another source of information. The-Boy-Who-Lived. They had realised Harry had a connection with the Dark Lord, a connection that probably existed since the Dark Lord had tried to kill baby Harry and had his curse backfire on him. Tough, by a tacit agreement, nobody talked about it. So Harry found himself simultaneously expecting and surprised by Seamus Finnigan's question.

"Harry, did You-Know-You… Did he… Harry, did someone die?"

Gasps and shocked whispers erupted in the room. Nobody but Ron and Hermione knew exactly what Harry experienced through his scar, what or how much he learned. But all fell silent went Harry finally got up with Ron's help and looked at Seamus. Seamus' father was Muggle, a man who wasn't a wizard. One of the common targets of Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

"No, I don't think so." Harry smiled grimly. "But Voldemort is not really happy with his state of existence, right now."

Seamus nodded, relieved and a little confused by Harry's second sentence.

"I have to see Professor Dumbledore," announced Harry. The students immediately parted to give way to The-Boy-Who-Lived as he walked towards the entrance of the Gryffindor Tower. Automatically, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger fell into step with him. They stayed silent until they were halfway to the entrance of the Headmaster's office on the second floor, letting Harry recover from his experience.

"Not happy with his state of existence?" Hermione repeated Harry's words.

 Harry nodded.

"Someone threw a knife at him. It won't kill him, unfortunately, but that hurt him."

"Wow." Ron was clearly awed. "Someone threw a knife at You-Know-Who and still lives to tell the tale? Wicked. Was it an Auror?"

"Voldemort didn't think so. He called them Muggles," answered Harry. "Yes, there were several people involved," he added, forestalling Hermione's question. "We're almost at Dumbledore's office. Come on. I'll tell the whole story inside."

Indeed, they were already in front of the stone gargoyle in the empty corridor guarding the office's entrance.

"Crunch," said Harry.

Dumbledore had recently developed a fondness for the Muggle sweet. Last week, after the Sorting Feast, the Headmaster had taken Harry aside to give him the password. It was a decision motivated by experience because Harry had already needed to talk to him urgently several times during the previous years. The boy was able to guess the password among the sweets' names but it was a waste of time.

The gargoyle moved, revealing a secret door. The children passed the door and waited as the rising stairs lead them to the Headmaster's office.

Thankfully, Dumbledore was there. Harry really did not feel up to track him down in the castle even with the Marauder's Map. The password was not the only thing Dumbledore had given Harry last week. Or given back since the Map belonged to Harry. The Professor raised twinkling eyes at the three fifth-year students' entrance.

"Harry, Mister Weasley, Miss Granger. May I be of assistance to you?" His calm attitude had the same effect than usual and Harry found himself relaxing.

"My scar hurt."

Immediately, Dumbledore examined Harry thoughtfully.

"I see." He poured a cup of tea for each of the students and waited patiently. Voldemort had either to be upset or to use an Unforgivable curse for Harry to feel something trough his scar. Dumbledore had learned to let the boy explain at his own rhythm the harsh events.

"Voldemort was at the Riddle Manor earlier, with Wormtail. I think he took a little earth but I don't know for what." Harry paused.

"Really? Mmm… Interesting."

"There was a group of Muggles in the house. I think they were tourists; they had an American accent. They went in to take a look at the house and they found Voldemort." Harry frowned then. "Voldemort wanted to try something new, a curse to know where souls came from."

Hermione and Ron gasped, horrified. Dumbledore leaned forward, deadly serious. "Did it work, Harry?"

"I … Voldemort didn't think so because the Muggles were still alive afterward but I know something strange had happened. I was seeing the scene in slow motion but, even then, it was very fast. It was like last year with the…" Harry's voice broke. He paused, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could do this. When he opened his eyes, he looked resolute to continue. "It was like the shadows that were pulled from Voldemort's wand. Except they were forced out of their bodies. And brighter. There were threads that connected each of them with the others. Some of these threads also strayed away from them and faded. Then it stopped. It was almost like they were yanked back. It happened so fast." Harry was starting to get into the tale. "Wormtail said then that the Aurors had arrived. Voldemort tried to cast the killing curse but one of the men wounded him by throwing a knife. Wormtail and he left after that. Professor, what is he trying to do? Do you know what happened to the men in the house? Where are they now? Did the Aurors take them?" Harry hoped that they were all right. They had seemed to be good people. Furthermore, they weren't afraid of Voldemort and they had hurt him. In his book, this meant that they were great. He wished he could meet them.

Dumbledore seemed to be considering the questions. At long last, he started to reply.

"I am not entirely sure about what Voldemort is trying to do with the bit of earth. But I do know that tampering with souls is a tricky business. It is fortunate that he failed. The Unforgivable curses already give control of the body to the spell caster. It would be catastrophic if the Dark Lord could learn to control souls. Do you think Voldemort saw what you did?"

Harry tried to remember. The details were already blurring in his mind.

"I'm not sure. It happened very fast, even in slow motion. I could be wrong too. It could just have been an explosion of light and I imagined the rest. But I don't think so. I just have this feeling it could be very important." He turned pleading eyes towards Dumbledore. He needed him his trust.

"I believe you, Harry. As for your other questions, I can find out what happened to the men in the house. How many were they?"

"Six. No, seven. Four of them were barely older than us. They could have been college students. The three others were older. Two about 29 and the last about 35."

Dumbledore nodded. "Thank you for your aid, Harry. I will see what I can do."

Hermione intervened then for the first time. "Sir? If the Muggles have seen Wormtail…"

Harry interrupted her. "Of course! Sirius could be cleared!" Sirius Black, Harry's godfather had been framed for killing Peter Pettigrew who was none other than Wormtail. How could Harry not have thought of it? He could have kissed Hermione!

"As I said," Dumbledore smiled, "I will see what I can do. That would indeed be a great idea, Miss Granger. Five points to Gryffindor for seeing aspects of a problem even I had not realised. Now, is it not time to go to sleep? We wouldn't want you to be caught by Filch after hours, would we?" he added with a wink from his twinkling eyes.

After wishing good night and good luck to the Headmaster, the three Gryffindors went back to their tower.

"'Mione, you're a genius!" Ron said.

"Don't exaggerate, Ron. You would eventually have thought of it, too," tried to protest Hermione, blushing.

"Ron is right," Harry broke in. "You are a genius. Even I did not think of it immediately and you know how much I want Sirius to be free!"

This time, Hermione gave in and took the compliment. Harry grinned.

Sirius Black's name was going to be cleared. His godfather was going to be free.

####

Somewhere in the States, a man looked up in a mirror. Outside the toilets, a woman's voice came, concerned.

"Mister Green, do you feel better now?"

The man was still looking at his reflection: blond hair, blue eyes, a pleasing face but nothing exceptional. Nothing unusual for a Man. He levelled his gaze to the pendant dangling from his neck. Suddenly, he tore it off and the image in the mirror changed.

"Thank you, Miss Brooke. I feel better now," the man answered, still looking in the mirror. He took a decision. "I'm going out in a minute. Would you be so kind to call me a taxi? I'm leaving."

"But, your job interview…" The voice sounded surprised.

"Your patron will have to find another potential employee. I have… a family emergency."

The man traced the outline of his reflection. The hair was longer now and the blond had become paler, almost silver. The blue eyes were deeper and more intense, like those of a bird of prey; the skin seemed to glow. But the most shocking change was his ears. They were pointed now.

"A family emergency," he repeated softly. Something had happened to the souls of the Fellowship. The elf could feel it in his heart, his mind and his own soul.

And thus, Lawrence Green, young architect looking for a job left the place as Legolas Thranduilion, one of the Nine Walkers. He had to find Mithrandir. 

####

Some time later, Legolas stood at the feet of the Winters, Springs & Green Building in New York. This enterprise had been created more than two hundreds years ago. A successful business with offices throughout the world but not very famous. The founders had wanted it so.

Under the names Winters, Springs and Green hid Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, formerly of Lorien; Lady Celebrian and Lord Elrond, of Imladris; and finally, his own father, Lord Thranduil, King of Eryn Lasgalen.

Ages past, the elves had tired of Middle-Earth and they had left for Valinor. With them, the magic left too and the Age of Man began. The dwarves, Aulë's children, dwindled and one day, disappeared from the surface of the planet; the Shire of the Hobbits became lost to men and the Ents fell asleep. But it was no longer the concern of the elves. In Valinor, they had lived in peace and bliss for innumerable years. Some of them, Elrond Half-Elven and his children in particular, had felt now and then the call of Middle-Earth but stayed on the Undying Lands.

Such was the state of affairs until, by the will of Iluvatar, the creator of Arda, the world of the humans changed. Middle-Earth was no more; the world east of Valinor was now simply called Earth. Furthermore, magic was back on the eastern shores and, with magic, the elves were drawn back toward the mortal world.

Of course, they didn't come back all at once. Olorin, the Istari that some named Mithrandir or Gandalf was sent back first around five thousand years ago and he watched. He watched as the men shaped their new world and as they stayed unaware of the magic surrounding them. He then discovered the wizards, the humans who could use magic and he learned their craft. He watched them develop a society parallel to the non-wizards' one: the wizarding world.

Then, he came back on Valinor and taught this new magic to all who wanted to and who could, for like the men, not all the elves were wizards. All the elves possessed a kind of magic, but this magic was different from the one now found on the Eastern world. Among those who could use this magic, Galadriel, Elrond and Mithrandir, the bearers of the three elven Rings were the strongest. Together, they forged pendants for the elves that wanted to go back to Earth. These pendants' purpose was to hide the nature of the elves. Indeed, they acted like a very powerful glamour charm that did not only fool the eyes but also the touch. This spell couldn't be lifted as long as the pendants were borne.

Thus prepared, the elves came back. They blended among the humans, be they Muggles, Squibs, Witches or Wizards; they rediscovered this world and the humans' conflicts. Some elves took a side in the conflicts but most were content to let the power struggle pass, be it in the Muggle or the Wizarding world.

Still, to keep better watch on these activities, the Winters, Springs & Green Enterprises were created. Their numerous offices assured an elven presence on all continents and almost all countries. It also served as a mean to contact Mithrandir for the one who was once named the Grey Pilgrim was still wandering.

This was the original reason of Legolas' presence in the Head Office. But when the disguised elf at the reception told him to go in the main conference room on the last floor, he hadn't expected to find the Istari there, sitting beside the leaders of the three greatest elven-realms of the Third Age.

"So you felt it too." Mithrandir's voice was neutral, thoughtful as was his face.

"I did. Their souls were disturbed." Legolas didn't need to specify whose souls he talked about. Having greeted the Istari in his way, he turned toward the others elves. "Father. Lord Elrond. Lady Galadriel."

They nodded to acknowledge his greetings and Thranduil motioned him to sit at his right. As if the elven Lords were only waiting for him to arrive, they started their council.

"Mortals' fate is strange to us," said Elrond. "Once they die, they leave the circles of this world and whither they go, the elves cannot follow. There were but two exceptions. Beren was allowed to remain in the halls of Mandos until Luthien's choice and he went back with her to Middle-Earth until the end of their mortal days. The other case concerns you two." He turned to Mithrandir and Legolas. "The fate of each race cannot be changed by the Valar but for the mortals of the Fellowship, Iluvatar granted permission to remain in the circles of this world until the end of Arda. And then, you two will be allowed to rejoin them beyond this world. From then onwards, you were bonded. Your fate was their fate and theirs were yours. You already know this." Elrond was but posing a rhetorical question. He knew the last two members of the Fellowship of the Ring had never forgotten.

This news was the only thing that had stopped Legolas from dying from grief after the dwarf Gimli's passing. Still, he had long lingered in mourning but time and the certainty he would meet his friends again no matter what had allowed him to learn to bear the pain of their losses. That and the fact that they would not have wanted him to die on their behalf, among other reasons.

"Can you always feel their spirits?" Galadriel asked. "Think well about this, little Greenleaf, for the answer to this question leads to another."

Legolas frowned. She knew that he always felt their presence. He had told her so himself on several occasions. Except

"I always feel them, my Lady, although I don't always feel them near me." He searched to put his feelings into words. "Sometimes, it is as if the feel of their presence is different. As if they were passing from one circle of existence to another." Realisation dawned on him. Mithrandir too must have realised this for he continued.

"They are often beside us, invisible and intangible, offering us warmth when needed but sometimes, like during these last years, I feel as if they are far yet close to me. They are in the same circle as we are. They are reborn in flesh." Mithrandir's voice was full of wonder but he sobered immediately. "Then they are in danger."

Thranduil spoke then. "Only Voldemort, the dark wizard from Britain would be fool enough to try to manipulate souls. The British Ministry of Magic has been denying his return since the beginning of this summer but all the signs are there. It is as the first time he came to power: disappearances, mysterious deaths, gatherings of dark creatures. The fools." He snorted. "They would wait until their enemy has gathered enough troops to strike and crush them." He turned toward his son. "At least, your friends had the sense to take the initiative. Taking the One Ring to Mordor was an ultimately suicidal, crazy and stupid decision but it worked. And the evil they banished from Middle-Earth finally stayed banished. Mortals. Must they always do everything twice?"

Legolas chuckled softly. His father had just criticized mortals as a whole and subtly called Elrond crazy but he had given his friends a compliment, back-handed and lost among other insults as it was. Apparently, old age was mellowing his father. Had he said these words at the end of the Third Age, Gimli would have been thunderstruck. No. Gimli would be thunderstruck. The dwarf was alive and Legolas intended to track him down and tell him the news. He tried to imagine his reaction and smiled inwardly. The stunted one would refuse to believe him. Come to think of it, so would Aragorn. For the first time since Legolas had felt the disturbance, his heart eased and joy took over worry. His friends were back.

But immediately, another cause of worry crept in his mind. Mithrandir was right. They had come to Voldemort's notice and thus were in mortal danger, even if this Dark Lord was far from being half as powerful as Sauron.

"What is the elves' position on the subject of Voldemort? Shall we reveal ourselves as we often speak of doing or shall we stay out of this as we did the last time?"

At these cautiously formulated words, Elrond leaned back in his chair and contemplated Legolas. Eventually, the former Lord of Imladris raised an eyebrow and answered in a wry tone, giving a sideways glance to Thranduil.

"We? Well, little Princeling, we won't do anything before knowing more about this situation. We will especially avoid entering into random trolls' lairs. Have the wood elves no concept of the word discretion? Dark wizards are likely to become suspicious if they find theirs allies shot dead by arrows."

"The Death Eater did not notice anything wrong, my Lord," Legolas defended himself, offended. He couldn't believe Elrond would choose this meeting to start yet another of his little spats with his father. Can they not wait another day to throw veiled insults at each other? he thought. The Fellowship is alive for now but they will not remain long remain so if they have come to Voldemort's notice. He narrowed his eyes. In hindsight, Thranduil had thrown the first taunt when Mithrandir had first looked worried. If their spat could distract him and Mithrandir from their worry, he wouldn't put it beneath the two powerful Lords to willingly provoke each other. Would it be such a bad thing? he wondered. Our friends have survived their first encounter with Voldemort. This dark wizard does not usually take prisoners. If they are still alive, then that meant they managed to evade him. I know they are able to take care of themselves.  I need not worry needlessly.

Still, letting his father and Elrond's efforts go to waste seemed a shame. Legolas took a petulant expression. "Anyway, it was your sons' fault, my Lord. No matter what they claim, I did not plan to enter the lair." He then opened wide innocent eyes and continued helplessly. "But I couldn't let the troll crush the twins, could I?"

Thranduil muttered something under his breath. To Mithrandir's ears on his left, it sounded a lot like "You should have. The wretched imps."

"The House of Oropher has ever been swifter to kill evil than the House of Peredhil," he said conversationally aloud. "This is but a further proof of this well-known fact."

With this sentence, the taunts left the realm of subtlety.

"I'll relay this to my sons. I am sure they will be able to find a … worthy argument to change your mind."

Considering the twins were infamous mischief-makers, Mithrandir shuddered in sympathy. In front of him, Galadriel was wearing a semi-amused semi-long-suffering look.

"Commiserations are in order, I believe," the Istari told her. "Your co-directors mean well but they are children, Galadriel. Allow me again to present my deepest sympathy." He leaned back to speak conspiringly to Legolas behind his father's back. "Legolas, I must congratulate you for your hard-won skill at making them go off at a tangent. We are both much too old to be so cuddled."

Legolas grinned in response.

Meanwhile, Elrond and Thranduil had decided to settle the issue another day. The Half-Elven cleared his throat.

"To come back to more urgent matters, which do not include what my sons and you were doing so close to a troll's lair if you did not plan his demise," At these words, Legolas' eyes widened again slightly, as if shocked Elrond would suspect him of looking for trouble.

"As Elrond was saying," Galadriel intervened, glaring at the three younger elves until they looked properly apologetic, "we, the elves will do nothing for now." She freed them from her gaze. Her tone turned reflective. "The Time of the Elves has passed. We aren't the main race of Arda anymore. We cannot force our way into Men's decisions. But we cannot let a dark wizard grow to the like of Sauron." In times like this, her great power and age was still apparent despite the glamour. She focused on the youngest elf. "Legolas, you will go to England and find the Fellowship. Do then as you see fit."

Legolas froze. He had expected to go looking for the Fellowship and had planned to stay with them but the Lady's curt words implied she was giving him leave for far more than that. Galadriel was still scrutinizing him. After a moment, Legolas bowed to her, not a small feat as he was still sitting. She smiled then and turned her attention to Mithrandir.

"Elvellon, I have need of your counsel concerning the policy of the elves."

"You can count on my aid, then," he answered simply. "Legolas, would you send my greetings to our old friends? I fear I will be otherwise occupied for some time."

"Of course." Legolas nodded.

"Follow us. You will need one or two little things for this mission." His father and Elrond got up.

Lady Galadriel and Mithrandir were left together then, posing a striking picture. Mithrandir did not use a glamour charm since he had the form of a man but his long beard always looked out of place when he wasn't wearing wizard's robes. In old jeans and a faded checked shirt, the old man set a study in contrasts in front of the blonde young looking woman, impeccably groomed in a pristine business suit.

"And so it starts. It is time for the Eldar and the Edain to join again." More than any other Elda Galadriel had the gift of foresight. Legolas simply bowed in response and left the room.

####

Outside the reunion room, the two Lords had started bickering again. Legolas sighed. They are doing this to get on my nerves. The twins and I are never that annoying! But it was true that, had their fathers been mortals, they would have lost all hair by now. As it was, aggravating their sons was one way to get back at them for all the lines the constant frowns had put on their faces. But the youngsters could put up with that.

Elrond and Thranduil's antagonism had not always been friendly. After the Battle of the Last Alliance on the slopes of Mount Doom, at the end of the Second Age, Thranduil had come back to Mirkwood with only a third of the Sindarin army. He had blamed the Noldor for this slaughter. A long time passed before the Sindar and the Noldor Lords were even on speaking terms. Thranduil was reputed for his ability to bear long grudges. The fact that their children had befriended each other helped at first. They had found common ground sympathising over the scrapes the young elves got into. They still did, especially when Thranduil's youngest child was the one involved with the twins.

Legolas cleared his throat to remind them of his presence.

His father merely lifted an eyebrow and, without breaking his 'conversation' with Elrond led the way toward the elevators.

All elves were in essence magical. But, like the Men, some of them were wizards and other weren't. Unlike the men, the ability to do magic did not seem hereditary. Thranduil and his youngest son were proof of that. The King was a powerful wizard, almost on par with the three ring-bearers but Legolas could not perform the simplest spell. Still, the magic of this time affected all the elves in strange ways. They could feel and see the magic in this world and so couldn't be considered Muggles. Moreover, Muggle repelling spells had no effect on them. Actually, unless the elf on whom a spell was cast willingly subjected to it, no spell had effect. On the other hand, potions could affect the elves as could the curses placed on an object. In short, magic anchored in the physical world had the same effect on elves as on wizards.

Besides that, the elves who could do magic had the same abilities as a human wizard. The non-wizards elves could be considered Squibs for they could use magical objects even if they couldn't cast a single spell.

But even if no spell could affect Legolas, he needed to be able to deal with the physical threats. A resistance to magic would do him no good if a troll were to decide bashing his head in would be fun.

The three elves left the elevators at ground level. They were heading towards the armoury, jokingly called danger room because of the variety of objects of dubious provenances stored inside. Among the list of objects were found weapons, old or new, holy water, all sorts of cloaks, broomsticks, decks of cards, the leash and some teeth of a dragon the twins tried to tame once, roller skates and souvenirs brought back by one or other elf. Glorfindel swore up and down he had seen a moving mummy in there.

The corridor leading to the armoury covered all the ground floor and was thus quite long. Legolas had already lost interest in the older elves' conversation and looked distractedly in the reception room when they passed before its entrance. He stopped cold. Some distance further, Elrond and Thranduil, engrossed in their argument, didn't notice.

"Elbereth…" he breathed.

Legolas stood still for some instants then, slowly, a broad grin spread across his face. Four people were verbally assaulting the receptionist, two women and two men. All of them were familiar to the youngest son of Thranduil. The Valar worked in strange ways. He should have expected it.

"Legolas?" His father and Elrond were coming back. "What are you waiting for?"

The younger elf's first response was a blink. His second was cryptic. "Mandos never said he was talking about the Fellowship of the Ring, did he?"

Immediately after, he took a formal and solemn expression and yielded his position at the entrance of the reception room.

"My lord Elrond, you may wish to see this."

Once upon a time, Elrond and Celebrian had three children: Elladan and Elrohir, the twins who were always willing to get into trouble and a daughter, the most beautiful female of her time, be it in body or in spirit. When she had chosen to bind herself to her mortal love, she had sealed a fate that would separate her from her father for eternity. But today, the Fellowship was back. Aragorn, her mortal love was back.

And so was Arwen Undomiel, the Evenstar of Imladris.

####

To be continued.

Elvelon: elf-friend

Next chapter, back to the reborn ones: Muggles or not Muggles. There is The Question. (A close second being: Where do we go from there?)