And we return once again to that magical world of HP/LotR mashup! Great things ahead, and much to be covered! R&R, and as usual, please enjoy the chapter! ~F

Chapter One

Since the Elder Days

Draco awoke in the middle of the night, his father's voice still ringing in his ears, "I have no son." Tears welled in his eyes, the pain of the betrayal stabbing anew in his chest. His own pain had been pushed aside in light of Sirius Black's death, and Harry had taken precedence for comfort from all their friends. But now, during the summer, the remembrance that he was an outcast from his own family without name or title, returned.

Silently, Draco slid out of the large four-poster bed and crept into the stone corridor. The starry sky shone in from the open balcony at the near end, letting a warm breeze flow through the passages of Orthanc. Faykan's and Harry's rooms were each across the hall from Draco's, but the blond boy didn't feel like disturbing his friends with his personal problems at this time. He pondered a moment, before setting off, reaching the spiral stairs of the tower and ascending, climbing to the very pinnacle of Orthanc.

Draco stood there, at the highest point for miles around, gazing across Fanghorn toward the west, thinking of his mother, when he heard the soft cracking sound of someone apparating behind him. He turned to find that Faykan had at last returned.

"Good evening, Draco." Faykan said calmly, as he approached, shifting several bundles in his arms.

"Faykan," Draco said coolly, turning back to the scenery, hoping that the blue-eyed boy hadn't noticed the fresh batch of tears threatening to spill down his face.

Unfortunately, he must have, as Faykan moved to stand next to Draco, watching him as Draco tried to control his raging emotions. "Draco?" he asked.

It felt as though a dam had burst in Draco's chest. Tears rolled down his face as he started to softly sob. "Why?" Draco managed to say between heaving for oxygen, "All I ever wished was for him to love me… why wouldn't he… I wish none of this happened…"

Arms encircled Draco as his pent up emotion seeped out, and Faykan rocked him gently, rubbing his back in a soothing manner, "So do all who live to see such times Draco. But it is not for them to decide." Faykan released him, turning Draco to look directly into his eyes. "All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us. Always remember, there are other forces at work in this world, besides the will of evil."

Together they watched the distant skies for a while longer, before Faykan spoke again, "Draco, do you know the purpose of the Istari, while they walk upon the face of Arda?"

Draco did not, so he shook his head.

Faykan smiled, more to himself than Draco, and continued, "They were sent to guide the children of Ilúvatar along the road to their own destiny. Not lead, mind, but guide. Now that the elder children, the elves, have all returned into the West, men must govern themselves."

He paused, watching a shooting star in the distance, "War is coming Draco and I cannot stand as the only leader of the light…"

"But," Draco said, "If not you, then who? Dumbledore?"

"No," Faykan replied, "Dumbledore is not of whom I speak. The ones to lead the strength of men must rise from among the youngest of them, from a forgotten line that shall return from the ashes of death."

Faykan turned to face Draco, his eyes sparkling in the starlight from above, "Draco, everything happens for a purpose, and you are no exception."

Realization dawned in Draco's eyes, "Me?" he stuttered, "Your talking about… me?"

"Yes, Draco, you, the next born in line to inherit the house of Black by blood, the last of that house that can possible be a leader of the races of men."

"No, I cant be," Draco said panicking slightly, "Why would men choose to listen to me?"

"They will listen to the King of Gondor!" Faykan declared, withdrawing a long package from beneath his robes, and offering it toward Draco. The starlight reflected off the silvery hilt of a sword. "Behold, Andúril, the Flame of the West, forged from the shards of Narsil! Behold the sword of kings!"

Draco stared, wide eyed at the beautifully crafted sword in its scabbard, the lights of the heavens above glowing silver-white upon the weapon. He longed to touch it, to hold it in his hands, but at the same time, he was afraid.

"Draco," Faykan reassured, "you must put aside the frightened boy of your youth; it is time for you to become who you were born to be!"

Confidence surging through him, Draco reached forward, drawing the sword sharply from its runed scabbard. It was light, far lighter than he imagined. "The man who can wield the power of this sword can call upon all the inhabitants of Arda to fight under his banner, and unite once more the world of men." He said, unaware that he even had known this about the ancient blade.

"The servants of Voldemort will learn to fear the sword of Elendil." Faykan said, pulling forth a silver ring, shaped like entwined serpents, with emerald eyes and a golden crown of flowers. Taking Draco's free hand, Faykan placed the ring upon his middle finger. The ring fit Draco perfectly. Smiling widely, Faykan clapped Draco's shoulders and declared "By the Ring of Barahir and the sword Andúril, you are of the house of Elessar, heir of Isildur, son of Elendil. You are Draco Malfoy no longer. I rename you, Sgiathatch Telcontar, heir of kings."

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Severus landed heavily in front of the massive spire of Orthanc, Albus at his side, still clasping the tiny portkey that had brought them. The aged Headmaster had received the small token with a summons by Faykan to attend a gathering that the ancient Istari was conducting to plan the Light's side of the war against Voldemort.

The look of shock and awe on the old man's face was worth Severus' acceptance to attend as well, aside from being summoned himself to tell the council of the Dark Lord's plans as far as he knew of them.

Faykan greeted the two wizards, warmly in Severus' case and neutrally in Albus', as they entered the upper meeting chambers of Orthanc. Seated and standing around the large circular room were a multitude of people and creatures, including several goblins in strange hide clothing, a single centaur, and a few armor-clad dwarves.

Seated on either side of Faykan's throne-like chair, looking puzzled at their inclusion in such a group of strangers, were Harry and Draco. The two boys wore expensive looking dress robes and circlets of silver threaded through their now rather long and braided hair, making them both appear like elven princes that Severus once saw in an old muggle storybook.

Severus took the opportunity to seat himself next to his godson, and comfortingly put a hand on his shoulder, gauging the young mans countenance. Draco returned a small smile, reassuring Severus that he was healing, if slowly, from the ordeals of the previous year.

The room settled and the several standing people and beings moved to sit as Faykan gentle tapped his staff upon the stone floor, calling the council to order. Albus sat next to Severus, and glanced around at the other people and creatures that stood or sat in a perfect circle spanning the entire circumference of the room.

Severus recognized Blaise Zabini and his illustrious mother in the circle, clad in black and gold armor with strange Middle Eastern designs, and even stranger, the recently declared deceased Broderick Bode, sitting next to Harry on Faykan's far side.

Faykan rose when the last member, a large black centaur took his place in the circle, and raising one arm in greeting began, "Strangers from distant lands, friends of old, you have been summoned here to answer the threat of Voldemort. The world stands upon the brink of destruction; none can escape it. You will unite or you will fall. Each race, each nation is bound to this fate that threatens all we hold dear."

The young voice of Faykan pierced the silence of the room like a knife, commanding each member of the circle's complete attention. "Long has it been since the White Council has been called upon to answer the threat of a single being, but long has it also been since a being of such power has existed in Arda, not since before the sailing of the elves and the beginning of the Ages of Men. We must now decide what is to be done concerning this Dark Lord, what can be done to protect this world in which we all live…"

Faykan's eyes roamed the room, meeting each of the other beings and holding their gaze before moving on. Finally, Faykan turned to Severus, "The council will recognize Severus Snape, the eyes and ears of the forces of the Light within Voldemort's own ranks. Severus, please inform the council as to what the Dark Lord's current motives are."

Faykan sat, opening the floor for Severus, who in turn stood. All eyes were upon him, and each being scrutinized him as Severus cleared his throat. "The Dark Lord seeks to tighten the grip his loyal Death Eaters have managed to secure on the wizarding world in his absence. Due to the desertion of the dementors, he will quickly free those in Azkaban, while his army of dark creatures will wreak havoc across the countryside of Great Britain. His main focus, for the time being, remains the same, the deaths of Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore, and Faykan Undol…"

"Of course this is what a servant of the Dark Lord would want us to think," interrupted one of the goblins, rising to stand upon his chair and pointing a long finger at Severus. "What better to tell us, his potential enemies, than that he is doing nothing of significant difference?"

"Peace Gornuk," Faykan said calmly, "I trust Severus Snape with my life; he is no more a Death Eater than you or I."

The goblin scowled at Faykan, but retook his seat without further argument. Severus, finished with his report, also sat down, and watched in silence as Faykan conducted the remainder of the meeting.

They heard reports from several others, including a German squib named Ceolwulf, who Faykan named as Lord of the Mark and King of the exiled nation of Rohan, whose land was overrun by orcs the previous year as the vile creatures marched toward Britain. He spoke briefly about the number of refugees, wizard, muggle, and squib alike, that had escaped the holocaust of these wizarding communities, who had escaped to Orthanc and another place he named as Helm's Deep.

Following him was another blond haired man named Cælin, who reported that there were still large numbers of dark creatures and wizards crossing their lands freely, attacking anyone that got in their way as they progressed westward. Many of the beings muttered at this news, as the sheer magnitude of the Dark Lord's power was astounding to have been heard so far for so long.

"It is as the Seers of the centaur clans predicted from the stars," said the lone centaur in the circle. Severus recognized the blond haired Firenze, the same centaur that Albus had hired to teach Divination at Hogwarts the year previously. "Long have our people foreseen this doom…"

"Foreseen and done nothing!" Faykan replied angrily.

Firenze huffed, "this is not our war…"

Draco shot to his feet, "Have you listened to nothing that has been said?" he shouted, "Voldemort threatens us all, centaurs included!"

"What does a boy know of such matters?" questioned Firenze, glowering at Draco, "why has this foal earned such high esteem as to be allowed a seat here, amongst the noble and wise ones?"

"This is no mere boy, Firenze," Faykan retorted, "He is Draco, heir of the line of the Blacks, and through them, the heir of the house of Telcontar."

Silence rippled throughout the council. Severus glanced at Albus, but the old man was as puzzled as he was of this revelation, but every other being and person in the council has evidently understood some hidden meaning behind the title.

"This," Firenze said slowly, gesturing at Draco, "is the Heir of Aragorn Elessar?"

"And Heir to the throne of Gondor…" added Faykan, "You, all of you, owe him your allegiance."

Faykan did not allow the next bout of silence to continue, ushering the meeting to continue, tugging Draco back into his seat as Firenze stepped back into his position.

The goblin who had interrupted Severus spoke next. Gornuk grimly stated that vast amounts of gold was still moving from the vaults of Death Eaters currently locked in Azkaban, as well as the Malfoy and Nott vaults. The representative of Gringotts, though neutral in the war effort, speculated that the gold was being used to bribe Ministry workers and purchase weapons for the Dark Lord's armies.

The Unspeakable, Bode, confirmed this in his testament from the Department of Mysteries, that Minister of Magic Rufus Scrimgeour was vastly unaware of the lingering corruption in the remnants of the Ministry following Fudge's dismissal for incompetence. He stated that the Ministry wasn't expected to last long fighting against the Death Eaters this second time.

Finally, Albus was called upon, and stood to address the council, his garish purple and gold robes swirling as he strode to the center of the room. "Hogwarts remains as it has for the past years, vastly under defended. Too many are relying on my presence alone to guard their children against Voldemort and his servants. The Ministry is supplying Aurors this year, but I hardly think this will be sufficient if Voldemort's top goal becomes taking the school or slaying one of its inhabitants." Everyone knew immediately that Albus was referring to himself more than Harry, and Severus was surprised to see the old man so open and revealing about his inner fears.

"I have taken several security measures, but I wish to request further assistance this year, especially from you yourself Lord Alatar." Albus said, and Faykan nodded, consenting to give his assistance and urging Albus to continue.

Albus took a small breath before proceeding, "I also intend, this year, to finally take Harry Potter's preparation to fight Voldemort into my own hands, something I should have done long ago, and that I now deeply regret not doing so sooner. With your permission, I would like to schedule time along the school year to meet with Harry and yourself, and add my own wisdom to what you have taught Harry."

"Very well Albus, I will allow you to assist me in training Harry this year," Faykan said. Albus smiled and sat back down.

Faykan paused for several moments, considering before he spoke. "I advise a multipronged attack against Voldemort's powerbases." He said, rising to pace around the circular room. "Here in Germany, we will strike at the moving hordes of reinforcements that his power is drawing to him, with the untied Rohirrim and the Dwarves of Agarond and Moria. Lord Borin," he directed his attention to one of the eldest of the dwarves, "will the sons of Durin be prepared to fight alongside men once more?"

The dwarf laughed loudly, "We would consider it a great honour, Alatar, to fight alongside the heir of our most ancient ally, as Gimli, son of Gloin, would have us do."

Faykan then turned to the two men, "King Ceolwulf, Lord Cælin, what say the Rohirrim?"

The older of the two, Ceolwulf, pondered a moment before speaking, "Long has the nation of Gondor called upon other nations to support them in hours of need, and long has Rohan answered. We will not now break that allegiance. We will ride to ruin and the world's ending with you Lord Alatar, and you Lord Telcontar!"

Before Faykan could even ask, Mrs. Zabini stood, the light of the torches glistening off her battle armor, "The legions of the south are at you command, as always, my Lord Alatar. Harad has always been, and will be, your deepest ally," she declared, before retaking her seat, a proud smile on her face.

"I thank you for your loyalty War-Queen Zabini," Faykan said as she sat. Faykan's eyes turned to Firenze, "What say you, centaur? What will the guardians of the forest decide?"

The blond centaur bristled, then spoke, "I cannot speak for my clan, as they choose to believe that this is not our war still, but I swear to you, I will fight with the Heir of Isildur to the death, alone if need be."

Faykan smiled before turning back to the rest of the council. "Albus and I shall work to convince the centaurs that they are indeed part of this war, and I would request Dwarven arms be created for them when they choose to join us…"

"I do not see," Gornuk interrupted again, "why you would even consider the crafts of dwarves when Goblin smiths surpassed them ages ago?"

Severus knew of the deep hatred between goblins and dwarves, spanning far back to before the Middle Ages, and the many wars that were wages between the two races. The hate filled words had their desired affect, enraging Borin to rising and drawing forth a shining steel axe, "Goblincraft can never match the finest workings of the dwarves you orc-spawn!" he blustered. The goblins were armed instantly, short swords and knives almost appearing in their long-fingered hands.

The swift crack of wood on stone brought everyone's attention back to Faykan, who glared at both parties until they backed down, "There will be no violence in this council. It is high time that the races of Goblins and Dwarves forgot and forgave old grievances. You are both masters in your crafts, different and majestic in your own rights. To compare a masterpiece from the grandeur of Moria to an ancient goblin artifact is like comparing a sapphire to a ruby. Both are equally beautiful even in their differences. No longer do your nations war with each other and I will hear no more of your old contentions."

Severus settled back for the conclusion of the meeting, Faykan dictating the remaining groups to watch the Ministry and Gringotts further, and the groups separated. Albus immediately went to chat with Faykan, probably to iron out their mutual interests with Harry's training, while the other people and creatures milled about or left. Severus watched as Draco and Harry spoke quietly for several minutes before exiting the room off an antechamber that Severus knew lead back up the tower toward the guest rooms.

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Harry stretched lazily in the warm branches of the ancient tree he was currently lounging in. The black fur of his animagus form soaked in the warmth of the summer afternoon making him quite comfortable and sleepy. Harry understood intimately why large felines liked to simple lie around all day; it was too much effort to move about when the soothing warmed on his skin begged him to simply nap the day away.

Lazily, Harry's thoughts drifted back to the reason he was out here. Faykan had been so busy between setting up raids on the marauding orcs on the plains, and sending off hordes of letters to their other allies, that he had completely forgotten that he had promised to spend time with Harry and walk through the forest. Naturally it was an excuse for them to be alone. There were simply too many people with the refugees from Rohan around for them to have secure privacy except in rare moments like this one was supposed to be.

A movement below caught Harry's attention, and he turned his head to watch as a black figure emerged from the brush below his tree. Harry's instantly recognized the scent of his best friend, even in his animagus form, but chose to remain where he was. The large Kitsune walked into the clearing at the base of Harry's tree, sniffing the ground, clearly following Harry's scent. Inwardly, Harry smiled as he cautiously rose and prepared to pounce upon Faykan.

A few more steps and Faykan was searching the branches of the tree, his crystal blue eyes searching for Harry in the shadows. Harry sprung, diving down and crashing, paws first, into the lean form of the Kitsune, knocking them both flying across the soft grass. Faykan yelped, more out of surprise than actual pain, as Harry playfully nipped and lightly scratched him as they tumbled, landing on top of the fox-like form and pinning the Kitsune with his strong forelegs.

Faykan struggled feebly for a few moments, before he shifted back to his human form, surrendering to Harry's victorious surprise attack. Purring in satisfaction, Harry began to lick Faykan's face, causing the other boy to struggle anew and laugh uncontrollably.

"Harry!" he yelled, twisting this way and that, attempting to avoid the rough tongue coating his face in sticky saliva, "Quit it! I give! I give!"

Harry rumbled a cat's version of a chuckle Faykan's now disheveled face, and then rolled off him, shifting back to his human form and lying on his side next to the blue-eyed boy as he struggled for breath.

"You look good that way," Harry teased as Faykan wiped his face over with his robe sleeve, glaring the whole time. Faykan smiled at him, all irritation forgotten. "I'm sorry," he said tenderly, rolling over to kneel next to Harry, his long black hair falling around his shoulders.

"About what?" Harry asked.

"For getting too busy to spend time with you…" Faykan replied.

Harry shrugged as he adjusted on the cool grass, "That's alright, I know you have a lot to do, leading the entire forces of the Light and all."

"Thank you," Faykan said cheerily, rising up to rest on his knees as he ran a hand through his hair, brushing it behind his ears, "If I recall correctly, I owe you one long walk through the forest…"

"Indeed you are correct, my dear Fay," Harry joked, allowing Faykan to pull him up to a standing position. Together, they then set off deep into the forests of Fanghorn, wandering the wild paths and listening to the simple beauty of the ancient forest. Occasionally Faykan would tell some story of long past ages, or explain the many features and uses of a plant they came across. Normally this would fascinate Harry to no end, but Harry's thoughts were preoccupied.

"Faykan," Harry asked, turning to look at his companion, "could you tell me, uh… some stories about you perhaps?"

Faykan hesitated, pausing mid-step to look at Harry in mild confusion, "About, me?"

Harry nodded, suddenly realizing that he was holding his breath.

"About me…" Faykan repeated, more to himself than Harry, fumbling in his robe and pulling out his long clay pipe, "In all my years… but so much to say, and where to begin…" He thoughtfully lit the end of the pipe and balanced it between his teeth, sucking in the fumes and blowing a stream of sweet smelling smoke into the air.

"How about where you picked up smoking?" Harry offered, and Faykan closed his eyes, remembering days long past.

"Well, I suppose I picked up the idea from Gandalf rather early on, early or mid Third Age perhaps. I never gave it a try myself until the fourth though, when I found this old pipe in Orthanc. Saruman's I presume, as the tower had been vacant since he was cast from the order of the Istari…"

On the tale went from there, spreading to the long years that he had walked the earth, assisting his fellow Istari Radagast and Pallando with their tasks as the world aged. With mild sadness, Faykan also spoke of how he watched the last of the elves depart Arda across the sea, never to return, and the slow decline of the other magical races.

"Where did they go?" Harry asked, "The elves. Where did they sail to?"

Eyes full of longing and sadness, but smiling, Faykan replied, "Home. Home to the Undying Lands of Valinor… the same lands that the Istari came from all those ages ago…"

'What's it like?' was what Harry died to ask further, but the look of sorrow and longing in Faykan's face at the thought of his homeland stayed his tongue. Instead, Harry put one hand on his friend's shoulder, and whispered in his ear, "I'm glad you came to Arda, Faykan."

Light shone from Faykan's eyes as he smiled back at Harry, "So am I, dear Kentano, so am I…"

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Albus waited patiently out by the Forbidden Forest, idly listening to the whistle of the wind through the trees and smelling the rich resin of the many pines and other plants at the edge of the woods. The grounds were one of his favorite places to go during the quiet summer holidays, when there were no students to distract his thoughts, or other school related duties for him to fulfill.

The soft displacement of air and the rush of magic signaled the arrival of Lord Alatar. The old Istari was dressed in a simple black robe, very similar to the student uniforms for Hogwarts, except that they were plain, with no house affiliation on them whatsoever. Albus nodded once to Alatar as he approached, and the Istar replied with a neutral, "Good evening, Albus." Albus could feel powerful magic wafting off the teenage body like a wildfire. Alatar was doing nothing to disguise himself at the moment, declaring his location and power to the denizens of the forest.

"Good Evening, Lord Alatar. Well, shall we?" Albus asked, gesturing to the forest.

"Lead the way." The old Maiar replied, and together they set off through the trees, searching out the centaur herd of Hogwarts' forest. They walked in silence for a long ways, wandering the paths at random, just waiting for a centaur scout to approach them first. Thankfully, Albus had relocated Hagrid's giant half-brother to a large cave north of Hogwarts, who had been on rather unfriendly terms with the centaur clan during his half year stay in the forest. As they walked, Albus' thoughts drifted to his quiet companion, and the discussion they had had almost a week ago, after the meeting of the reestablished White Council. Together they had briefly spoke about the things Albus desired to show Harry, mainly the memories about Tom Riddle, and the speculations Albus had since his and Harry's second year.

Albus planned to investigate his suspicions shortly after this discussion with the centaurs, and hopefully he would prove himself wrong, as the prospects of him being correct were daunting to say the least.

Alatar abruptly broke the silence, "Your thoughts are rather loud tonight Albus, I can sense that you have a new request to make of me."

"As a matter of fact, I do," Albus replied. "As you are probably aware, we are short one teacher again for this year, and I would like to request Harry's and your assistant in recruiting an old friend to fill the position."

Alatar seemed to ponder it for a moment, and nodded, "I feel that this is an acceptable request to make, but I sense that there is more than a simple teaching position to fill with this 'old friend' of yours."

"Ah, well," Albus replied, "As you probably remember well, old Horace Slughorn had a lot of interaction with Tom Riddle…"

"Say no more," Alatar interrupted, "I understand perfectly, and will help in whatever is needed to get the old Potion's Master back for his memories. I presume that Severus will be taking the Defense position at last then?"

"Indeed he will." Albus affirmed, causing Alatar to smile.

"You may be surprised how well this appointment will be received by the student body," Alatar said with a sidelong grin.

Albus was about to question why exactly that was, but the snapping of a branch ahead caused them both to turn, just as a wild-looking, black haired centaur emerged from the brush, a bow loaded and aimed at the two wizards, "Who are you?" he demanded, looking from Albus to Alatar.

"We are representatives of the White Council, come to call upon the loyalties of the forest-keepers. You are Bane, of the Hogwarts centaur herd, and I, Alatar, request that I and Albus Dumbledore be taken to speak with your clan chieftain."

The black-haired centaur, Bane, froze in his tracks; however he did not lower his weapon. From all around them came the rustle of hooves as the rest of the clan emerged from the shadows of the trees. "I am Magorian," said a large chestnut centaur, "and I am the chief of our herd, but you will not find what you seek among us here, because this is not our war, and we centaurs will not meddle in the things written in the stars of the affairs of wizards."

It was the same argument that Albus had heard over and over, yet Faykan merely laughed, throwing back his head in mirth and letting the music of his voice fill the surrounding trees.

"What do you find so funny, human?" Bane said angrily, but Alatar ignored him, addressing the old Magorian.

"How far you have come, to read the stars and heed them not, so mighty the race of centaurs, guardians of the forests, believing themselves greater than man due to their wisdom and foresight, yet refusing to act on their findings, how Elbereth weeps for your lack of love toward the children of Ilúvatar."

"What to you think to know of the Star-Queen?" Magorian bellowed, and several other centaurs lifted more bows. Their movement was dwarfed, however, but the sudden rumbling in he ground and a deep, moaning groan-like sound emanating from deeper in the forest, growing louder by the second. In a flash, Alatar's staff was in hand, and fire burned within his eyes as the black robes melted away to shimmering azure. Albus felt the concentrated magic coursing off Alatar as the centaurs gaped at the majesty of the Istari's might unveiled.

"I know much of the Valar and their ways," Alatar spoke, his voice commanding and resonant, "for I am one of their servants of old, sent across the sea to guide the paths of men and elves. You, centaur," he continued, pointed at Mogorian, "will command your fellows to stay their weapons and gather their families. War has come, and the centaurs have been summoned by the heir of the house of Elendil and the White Council of the free peoples of the earth. Will you dare to deny your oaths of old?"

With an ear splitting groan, several trees parted across from where Albus and Alatar stood, and something moved, tall and tree-like. This was the last straw for the centaurs; they fled, splintering into several directions. Albus audibly gasped as a tree, a massive rowan, literally strode into the small clearing upon two massive trunk-like legs. What was even more startling was that the tree creature was speaking, long slow words emerging from a surprisingly recognizable face.

"Foolish horse-men, brurahroom, know you not an Istari when you glimpse one." The tree spoke chidingly as he bent low to look at Alatar and Albus, "Young master Alatar, hoom, I'm pleased that you've come…"

Alatar smiled as he looked up into the giant face, "Good to see you, old friend." He then turned to Albus, smiling at the look of surprise and shock still plainly etched into the old wizard's face, "Albus Dumbledore, may I introduce you to Bregalad, last of the Onodrim."

"But," Albus said weakly, "it's a tree…"

"Tree," Bregalad said, rising up to his full and quite substantial height, "I am no tree, I am an ent, huraroom…"

"My apologies," Albus replied mutely, still trying to comprehend.

"Nothing to worry yourself about young one, hoom. Many have made the same mistake. Call me, Quickbeam."

"How goes your securing of the forest, my good ent," Alatar said, bringing the tree-man out of his revelry.

"Three years I've wandered these woods, and in three years I have seen more anger and pain then in all my long life, huraroom. The trees of the forest are old, not nearly so as Fanghorn, but close, and are just as angry as is the old days, before the Last March, especially that large one up near the castle of stone. But they are beginning to awake, master Alatar, and remember their old ways, hoom. Soon they will remember that they can move and speak. I'd say another year, and this forest will start to resemble home."

"Excellent old friend, this is excellent, and the dark creatures of the forest?" Alatar replied.

"Driven away, all but the nest of spiders close to the heart of the forest, brurahoom. They are many, and even I could not force them to remove themselves. Their leader is dying, and they refuse to leave without a fight."

"Then that is the best we can hope for at the time being, many thanks Quickbeam. We'll leave you to your work, as we have much to do, and little time for it."

"Farewell to you both then, young beings, hoom. I hope you can make it back to visit sometime soon. It is very lonely these days, being the last and eldest creature left in all the world…"

Albus recovered part of his control after the hulking form of Quickbeam disappeared into the trees, "So…" he said shakily, "that was the oldest living creature in all the earth."

"Yes," Alatar replied, "Older even than I, discounting the years before I came to Arda. Shall we go, I think you mentioned some other business you had to prepare for, somewhere in the London area?"

"Yes…" Albus said, taking a last look where the ent had disappeared to, "I have an old village to visit, just some speculation to test…"

~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~

The cold wind of the mountain blew heavily down upon Bellatrix and her company of orcs and other dark wizards, as they made their way on foot through one difficult part of Germany towards the apparition point that would bring them safely back to her Master's side.

The Dark Lord has selected her personally to lead this particular group of newcomers, as it held a most valuable addition to Lord Voldemort's ranks, a High Necromancer named Abdurahman, and the pathway through this part of Germany had become increasingly dangerous. The snow at the top of this particular mountain had been rather heavy, but several strong heating and fire charms had protected most of the important people in the company, namely Bellatrix herself.

Coming up over a small rise in the side of the mountain, Bellatrix stopped, straining to hear something that sounded almost like a tiny voice coming from the southeast. "What is that?" said the bearded Arab. His accent was so thick that Bellatrix had to utilize a translation charm just to understand him, "Is that a voice on the air?" he continued. Bellatrix knew that voice, and her alarm escalated immediately, "Its Alatar!" she roared, warning all the others just as a small avalanche cascaded down upon them.

Several fire and blasting charms from Bella and Abdurahman protected their segment of the troupe, but most of the other orcs, dark wizards and other creatures were swept away in the snow and ice. "We must get off the mountain," Abdurahman yelled over the howling wind, pulling at Bellatrix's arm, but she stood her ground, unwilling to retreat.

"We must turn back!" he yelled, but Bellatrix stormed forward, casting dark curses to blast the wall of snow and rock away, "No!" she yelled back, but the voice of the child Lord sounded on the air again, loud and dominating.

"Cuiva nwalca Carnirassë! Nai yarvaxëa rasselya taltuva ñotto-carinnar!"

Dark storm clouds gathered in seconds, hailing lightning and sleet down in torrents. Bella knew the next avalanche would kill them all, and she sprinted at Abdurhman, activating her emergence portkey as she seized him. The screams of the dying sounded around them as they were pulled forward, but all Bellatrix could think of was how her Master would be displeased with the closing of another pathway for his forces from the east.

Sgiathach Telcontar : Dragon Strider, Telcontar was the family name Aragorn took at his coronation.

Kentano : Potter, Faykan's name for Harry

Cuiva nwalca Carnirassë! Nai yarvaxëa rasselya taltuva ñotto-carinnar! : Wake up cruel Redhorn! May your blood-stained horn shall fall upon the enemy-heads

Potential Spoilers Ahead, You Have Been Warned!

So, Draco Malfoy, the heir of Elessar… anyone see that coming? I had been building up for this since day one of drawing Draco into the circle of protagonists. Sirius was another possible choice, probably a better choice in the short run, but his death was inevitable for Harry's growth as a character. Also, Quickbeam has returned, the last of the Ents has been made known. the creepings of the lost lands of Arda have started to emerge in the shadows of the Hp universe. Until next time! ~F