Harry Potter and the Heir to Gondor
A Harry Potter/Lord of the Rings fusion by Andrew J. Talon
Disclaimer: This is a fanbased parody work of prose. Please support the official release.
Author's Note: I love Lord of the Rings because it has aged like fine wine. And Harry Potter I'm at best mixed on, as it has aged like warm milk. But it just keeps pulling me back in, just as I thought I was out. So here's something random I cooked up.
Petunia panted hard, taking in deep breaths to fill her needy lungs. Her bright blue tracksuit was soaked in sweat, as she held her sword in front of her. Harry was lying on the floor in front of her, covered in bruises and groaning.
"Better," Petunia said, "you held onto your sword this time."
"Th-Thanks," Harry managed, as he slowly sat up. He made to turn around, but Petunia slapped his shoulder with the flat side of her blade. "OW!"
"Never turn your back on an opponent, Harry," Petunia admonished, "do you want to end up dead?"
"I thought we were done!" Harry protested, scowling back at his aunt. Petunia sighed.
"We're done when I say we're done. You need to learn discipline," she stated. "Proper discipline."
"Hmph," Harry grunted, but he nodded in agreement. Petunia sighed, and sheathed Hadhafang. Harry sheathed Anduril, though far more slowly.
"Now, let's have lunch," Petunia said. "You need to rest-Before we train in the afternoon."
"Yes Aunt Petunia," Harry said, though he did brighten a bit. His moral qualms about Petunia's transformation aside, she was being a lot nicer to him. And at least the pain from their training was useful.
She rummaged around in the kitchen, and prepared several sandwiches. She set a pile of them in front of Harry, along with a large jug of water. She prepared the same for herself, and began to eat ravenously. Harry followed suit, too hungry to comment on anything.
Petunia then paused, her eyes flickering to the window. Harry looked over, but saw nothing-Just the usual front yard.
And a few teenaged boys who had been hanging around more often. Harry could guess why, but he didn't enjoy thinking about it. Yes, his aunt was beautiful now but... Gross.
"I'll be back," Petunia said, rising from the table, "You will practice listening and meditating until I return."
"Where are you going?" Harry asked. Petunia shook her head, and offered her nephew a small, wan smile.
"You'll see. Now finish your lunch and get to training," she said.
Harry sighed, but complied, as Petunia stood up and walked out the front door. She ignored the teenaged boys trying to ogle her. She felt the tingle of magic in the air, and the song of someone familiar.
Painfully familiar. The world blurred around her, and she crossed her arms over her chest.
"I trust you've cast something to allow us some privacy?" She asked.
A tall, hook nosed man with greasy hair and black robes stepped into view. Snape sneered.
"Obviously," he replied. He fixed his black eyes on her. "Petunia. You're... Looking well."
"I see you're still trying to redeem yourself as Dumbledore's pet Death Eater," Petunia spat. Snape glared.
"At least I didn't need a magical transformation to treat Potter like a human being," he sneered.
"At least I didn't make him an orphan!" Petunia shot back angrily.
The two glared hatred at one another, neither backing down. Petunia then pulled back, and took deep, calming breaths.
"What do you want?" She asked, keeping her anger tightly wrapped. Snape shook his head.
"You know why I've come," he said, "Potter's the heir. He needs the Ring."
Petunia stared, silent and stone faced.
"I will give it to him when he is ready, not before," Petunia stated coldly.
"The Headmaster accepts that," Snape said, "but he also wants to know it is secure."
Petunia's glare hardened.
"You were born to kneel, it seems," she sneered, "for any master willing to take you in."
"And you remain a bitch no matter your form!" Snape shot back.
The tension mounted. Petunia had her hand on her sword, Snape his hand on his wand. The sound of birds chirping, distant car horns, and children laughing filled the air behind them. At last, Petunia slid her hand away from her sword, closing her eyes. She heaved a soft sigh.
She then nodded.
"The old playground in Cokesworth," she said, walking slowly up to Snape. She gingerly extended a hand, and rested it on his shoulder. "Take us there. Now."
Snape grimaced... But he focused his magic. The universe shrank, then expanded again. They were standing in an aged, abandoned playground in a sparsely wooded suburb. The great smoke stacks of the Cokesworth stood in the distance. Petunia shook her head, and walked towards a nearby stone wall overrun with lichen and vines.
"You buried it here?" Snape asked in disbelief.
"I couldn't keep it in the family house, it burned down," Petunia stated. She knelt down, and ran her fingers over the stones. A few Elvish runes began to glow at her touch, and she began to work the bricks out.
"I suppose you're going to blame me for that, too," Snape sneered. Petunia glared back angrily.
"Should I not? You-Your world-It's been nothing but trouble for us! You don't care what your games do to us!"
"I wouldn't talk about not caring, Petunia," Snape growled, "especially with how you treated your own blood!"
"And he would never have come to us if it wasn't for you!" She shot back.
"I chose to make up for my crimes!" Snape growled, "you are just a puppet of an oath you took! At least I'm choosing a better path!"
Petunia opened her mouth to shout again... But she bit it back, her expression now sad. She turned back to the bricks, as Snape glared at her. She was silent for a time, working her fingers into the loose mortar fragments. They rained down onto the sand below.
"... I begged McGonnagal to attend Hogwarts, you know," she said. "I wrote her so many letters. I wanted more than anything... To be with her... Even with you."
"I am more than aware," Snape sneered back. Petunia pulled the brick loose with a burst of anger induced strength. She looked down at the gap, where a small silver box sat.
"You hateful bastard. Can't let anything go, can you?!" Petunia snarled back, glaring over her shoulder at him.
"That makes two of us," Snape shot back.
Petunia turned back to the stone wall. She took hold of the box, and slowly pulled it out. Snape spoke again.
"We both ask too tremendously much of him," Snape went on, softer and more regretful, "We expect him to be the hero to save us, we demand those we lost back from him, and now we ask him to raise the Kingdom of Men from the dust."
He shook his head.
"Harry Potter didn't even ask to be born."
Petunia looked at the small box, covered in Elvish writing.
"... You've never... Spoken like that about him before," Petunia said.
Snape allowed himself a bitter smirk.
"Anduril chose him. That is enough to even give me pause," he admitted.
Petunia stood up, and walked over to him, the rocks crunching softly under her feet. She opened the box.
A silver ring, formed out of two serpents with emerald eyes, greeted them. The serpents met beneath a crown of golden flowers that one upheld and one devoured.
"The Ring of Barahir, the symbol of Gondor's King," Petunia said tonelessly.
Snape saw a folded piece of paper, underneath the ring. He reached for and took the paper, before Petunia could stop him. She pinched her lips together as he unfolded it.
There was a drawing. Lily, himself, and Petunia, all at Hogwarts together. They were smiling happily. Snape looked over at Lily, stone faced.
Petunia snatched the drawing away from him, and tucked it into her pocket. She shut the box tightly.
Petunia shook her head, and rested her hand on his shoulder.
"Take us back," Petunia said. Snape nodded, focused... And they Apparated back to the front gate of Number 12 Privet Drive. Petunia pulled away the moment it was safe to do so, and turned to walk away.
"Petunia," Snape tried, and she stopped. Snape gritted his teeth, but pushed himself forward.
"If you need help-"
"I will not be asking you," Petunia spat. Snape nodded back.
"Good," he said. "But I will be here from time to time, as part of my duties-"
"Then stay silent," Petunia shot back. "There is nothing you can do to make up for your crimes."
"... No, I suppose there isn't," Snape murmured. "Another thing we have in common."
Snape Apparated away. Petunia stood in silence... And rested her hand on the pocket containing the picture she had drawn.
It wasn't like Ron Weasley resented his best friend, Harry Potter, for his fame and riches. He was his best friend, after all! He had saved Ron, Ron's sister, and the whole school!
Yet... It really irritated him something fierce that Harry now was the heir to some long lost Magic Kingdom. It just seemed... Unfair. So what if he was a little sore over it? He wasn't sulking!
It definitely wasn't worth his mother sending him out to their garden to prune and pull weeds! Hmph.
Ron dug into the soil, probing for the roots of a particularly stubborn weed. It was leafy and a bit prickly, even through his dragon hide gloves. He grit his teeth and, the Summer sun burning overhead, he yanked!
It came loose... And Ron fell back onto his back.
"OOF!" Ron grunted. He sighed... Then blinked. Above him was a pale, freckled face, with a halo of golden blonde hair. He paled a bit himself, as she bent down.
"Hullo, Ronald," said the girl. Ron scrambled away, blushing furiously. He sat back as the barefooted girl beamed at him.
"Geh! Uh, h-hey Luna," Ron managed. "Uh, why are you here?"
Luna smiled.
"Like I said the last five days-I like being near you," she said.
"Y-You don't have to say it like that!" Ron sputtered. His brothers were already teasing him over his " girlfriend."
Luna tilted her head and stared at Ron's left ear.
"How should I say it then?" She asked.
"Just... I dunno, don't?" Ron tried. He returned his attention to the weed. Luna leaned over and looked at it.
"What's that?" She asked.
"King's foil," Ron grumbled, "its a weed. But it can heal wounds. So it's useful, I guess."
"Wow," Luna said. She reached out for it. Ron's eyes widened.
"Hey wait, don't-!"
Luna touched it. She then winced, and pulled her hand back. Ron sighed.
"I told you not to," Ron grumbled. He took Luna's hand and examined the cuts from the prickly plant. "Hold on."
He gathered some leaves from the King's Foil, grabbed a watering can, a strip of fabric, and two stones. He doused the leaves in water, and pounded them into a paste. He put the paste onto the fabric, and wrapped it onto Luna's wound.
"There. Give it a day and you'll be good as new," Ron said with a smile. Luna returned it... Before leaning over and kissing Ron's cheek.
"My hero," she said sincerely. Ron blushed heavily and looked to the side. It was hard to talk all of a sudden.
"Ah, um, w-well uh, heh... Just something my mum told me. Passed down for generations of the Prewett family, ya know."
"Really? Tell me more," Luna asked.
So Ron did, and he couldn't help but feel a lot better about his situation. Sure, he hadn't slain a basilisk and he wasn't a king, but he had gotten a kiss for his troubles. Something Harry Potter hadn't gotten from the girl he had saved.
Or rather, he damn well better NOT have...
Some personal stuff that needed attending to...