R&R, and enjoy the chapter. ~F

Chapter Four

Darkness Rising

Voldemort, Dark Lord of the Earth, pulsed with rage at learning of his servant's failure. Yet again, his perfect planning had been foiled by the weak minded creatures that he employed as his hands afar.

The capture of the Ministry had been flawless. Scrimgeour died painfully, although regrettably revealing nothing of his theft of the will of Albus Dumbledore. His servants had tracked the ex-Minister's path to the Weasley's hovel, and had attacked moments after the Minister had been slain, but someone in the Ministry had tipped off the otherwise unsuspecting wizards. The ragtag group of fools had managed to drive back the Dark Lord's strike team, and none of those who survived even managed to get a glimpse of Harry Potter in their number.

The boy must have been in hiding, they had said. But he, Lord Voldemort, knew far better. Potter would not hide and let his friends and allies fight for him. The boy would be in the thick of it himself, along with Alatar, stirring up as much trouble as possible.

Those servants who survived had been punished for their ineptitude. Worse still, the Department of Mysteries had barricaded itself from the rest of the Ministry. Those weak-willed cowards who studied the ancient lore of their people had seen the coup for what it was, and the Lord Voldemort suspected even now that the Unspeakables conspired with his enemies. Their betrayals would be dealt with.

Standing in the cold air of the Atrium, the Lord of the Earth was overseeing personally the setting up on his authority, commemorated by a new statue to be displayed in the Atrium. 'Magic is Might,' depicted the greatness of witches and wizards over the lesser races, as the proud figures sat upon thrones made with the dead and dying muggle nations.

It was not close to the truth, Voldemort thought to himself, stroking the blackened ring on his finger, but it would suffice for the time being, and eventually he would unveil the true order of the world when he had crushed all opposition underfoot.

A whispered spell of beckoning, and three figures materialized from the shadows. "What is thy bidding, Master," purred the first of the three humanoid figure that approached.

Turning to face the three, the Dark Lord spoke in a whisper, voice controlled to the point of ice and venom. "There are five humans who you must seek. The Potter boy is of great value, and must be brought to me alive… kill the others."

Smiling, the pale figure revealed the pointed fangs that embodied his kind. "As you wish, great Lord," the vampire purred, bowing deeply. "We shall seek them to the ends of the earth, and bring their hearts to you as a gift…"

The second, Fenrir Greyback, departed soon after without a word. The Alpha had gained quite a following as the enforcer of the Dark Lord's will in the outlander werewolf packs, despite the attempts at Dumbledore tame wolf to try and dissuade them from joining their rightful place at Voldemort's side.

Finally, the hulking shadow of the Lord of Azkaban melded back into the shadows, the command of his rightful Lord being all that was required for the wraiths to seek out their newest prey.

Voldemort smiled as the three hunters departed to join their kin. If his mortal servants could not capture the boy, then he would send those whose skills could be trusted to hunt and kill all manner of prey. All three of these creatures knew the rewards for success would be ripe in muggle lives for them and their fellows to feast upon, and that failure would bring down Lord Voldemort's displeasure upon them and their kind.

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The group of five didn't have time to remain at Grimmauld Place and wait for Kreacher's return with Mundungus Fletcher, and after adding new layers of magical protection to the location, they departed by Portkey.

Hermione looked around as they landed, blinking confusedly at their new surroundings. She had presumed that they would be returning to Orthanc, but the woods surrounding them were not the same as those in the Vale of Isen, although they were similarly ancient.

"Where are we?" Draco asked, as the others started to glance around them.

A cool breeze ran through the deserted woods, unsettling the dead and drying leaves that piled beneath the towering trees. Yet there was a stillness that Hermione could feel in this place, and an emptiness that made her sad.

"This, dear Draco," Faykan said quietly, with a small amount of sorrow in his words, "was once the great heart of elvendom on earth. Caras Galadhon, of the great woods of Lothlórien."

Hermione audibly gasped as she recognized the feeling that she had connected to the name. The Golden Wood had once been the greatest of the Elven Kingdoms of the Third and Fourth ages, and the residual magic on the great capitol could still be felt on them even now.

"Long has this place been hidden away from the world, for they would not understand and respect it as it deserves," Faykan continued, slowly striding closer to the center of the long abandoned city. "The elves of Lórien took great care to make every space into a true work of art, and as their history merges directly into wizarding history, it must be preserved as long as their last gift to the world remains."

"Why are we here now Fay?" Harry asked, green eyes shimmering in the twilight under the darkening trees.

Faykan turned to him, "Because Harry, the powers of Nenya long enchanted this place, and therefore holds a connection to that ring of power. We can use that connection to speak with the bearer of that ring, and seek her guidance."

Hermione didn't understand completely who Faykan was speaking of, but Harry apparently did, as his eyes widened momentarily. As their little group ventured further into the midst of the Golden Wood, Hermione felt her heart turn to sadness.

No longer did the shining golds and silvers of the Mallorn trees cover the ground with light. It was as if the land's very heart had removed itself. Thinking about it momentarily, Hermione reasoned that in a sense, it had.

The elves had long since departed the shores of the world, leaving nothing but a history that had shaped the world for all time. And indeed it was they who had added life and soul to these forests, by their magic and their respect of all the works of the Valar.

Before long, after much walking through the overgrown and stilled trees that had once teemed with the city of elves, Faykan steered their little group off a moss covered path and down a sloping staircase. Reaching the bottom, Hermione thought that she recognized where they might be. The visions from the Palantír had been quite clear and accurate when it detailed the moments that the hobbit, Frodo Baggins, had gazed into the mirror of Galadriel to see a glimpse of the future.

As Faykan approached the center of the small clearing, he gingerly pulled away the roots and vines that had grown up over a large basin, standing alone in the middle of the grassy place. A wave of his staff conjured a silver pitcher, which he carried over to the small pool, still fed by the nearby rivers for thousands of years after their mistress had departed for the shores of Valinor.

"Harry, we need to look into the mirror…" Faykan said slowly, as he filled the pitcher with crystal clear water.

Ron, who hadn't spent nearly as much time as the others in studying or remembering the elven history of the earth, leaned in to Hermione and whispered, "What do they expect to see?"

Faykan overheard, and smiled placidly in their direction, "Even the wisest cannot tell, for the mirror can show many things."

Holding the pitcher high, Faykan allowed the water to pour into the basin as he explained, "things that were… things that are… and even some things that may not yet come to pass…"

Harry stepped forward, and after Faykan set aside the now empty water vessel, together they bowed forward to gaze directly down into the sparkling water. At first, Hermione thought nothing had happened, but then the water started to glow, shining a brilliant blue-white aura.

The two wizards, each gazing deeply into the light, stood motionless, but their eyes slid back, changing from their piercing shades to a blinding whiteness. Their mouths moved, as though speaking, but no voices could be heard by Hermione, Ron, or Draco.

Something dawned on Hermione in that time that the two wizards communed with the ancients, and it answered many of her questions regarding Harry and the boy's new knowledge and power. He had, through some event still unknown to her, become something more than human. Something more along the lines of whatever Faykan was. Istari was what they called it, she remembered; a powerful being dwelling among the mortal races.

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Harry blinked as the shocking whiteness of Valinor suddenly engulfed his senses, putting the previous serenity of the Vale of Lórien to shame. Galadriel was there, along with Faykan, and the great Ñoldor elf smiled at Harry as he bowed to her. "So soon we meet again, Harry Potter," she said gently, as a mother would to a favored son.

"It is an honor to be in your presence, my Lady," Harry replied, before his curiosity consumed him out of all thoughts of pleasantries, "Although I fear that I do not understand the reason for our meeting…"

Galadriel smiled again, "Ours is a duty to support those of the Free Peoples of the earth, as bearers of the three Elven Rings of Power. If we did not teach you all that that entailed, what would befall the world when all other hope has faded?"

"I am ill equipped to handle all the affairs of this war alone," Faykan explained, "and our friends, while doing their part to the best of their ability, have neither the experience nor the magical power to defeat Voldemort on their own. So it is to you that the races of men will turn, to throw down this evil once and for all. And to do that you need to understand the powers that you have been given."

"And he shall have power that the Dark Lord knows not…" Harry quoted, nearly holding his breath with anticipation.

"Not so…" Faykan chided softly, "as there are means and ways that Voldemort will learn of the power of the Valar, and naturally he would envy that above all other power. The power he knows not of will come of yourself, from your convictions that he, and all who are selfish like him, would never comprehend as anything but foolishness and a weakness. But that is their folly, for selfless giving is a power greater than any that lives or breathes."

"This you knew before," Galadriel added, her eyes piercing even in the Undying Lands of the west, "and for this cause, we have called you, and others still who will train you on those needful things, so that you will have the wisdom and strength to overcome your trials in this dark hour."

She held out her hand, pointing toward the green sloping lands of the Valar, and Harry looked, wondering in awe as three figures were steadily making their way toward them, clad in radiant sea-blue, earthly brown, and shining white.

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Severus had heard from the lower caste of the Dark Lord's servants of the failed attempt to capture Harry Potter at the Weasley's wedding party, the same day as the fall of the Ministry. Naturally he was glad for the boy's escape, as well as the near perfect vanishing act that he and his friends had pulled immediately afterward, but he still wished there was something he could do to assist them.

Unfortunately, whether as an act of trust or distrust, the Dark Lord had seen fit to put Severus back into Hogwarts as Headmaster of the school, ratifying it in the Ministry with his newly forged iron grip that he held therein. The Carrow twins had been put in place at the school also, in the roles of Muggle Studies and Dark Arts teachers. Theodore Nott had returned as well, acting as Head Boy and Voldemort's personal spy in the student ranks, and the boy's intense distrust of Severus did the Potions Master no favors as well.

Sitting in the office that had once been held by Dumbledore, Severus pondered deeply what he was to do. He had seen many of the Crebain from day to day, but with the school empty for the summer, and with Nott and the Carrows seeing to the securing of the school on Voldemort's orders, Severus had had little time to send a message out via the birds to the others of Harry's group.

Turning, Severus eyed the various portraits and objects that lined the shelves, which he had kept and preserved from Dumbledore's reign in the office. There was little he would have any need of to add here, and he personally wanted to keep it as it had been, for memories sake. Eyes landing on the portrait of the only other Slytherin Headmaster of Hogwarts, Phineas Nigellus Black, Severus was stumped into wondering where he had seen the portrait before, outside the castle walls.

Grimmauld place, he remembered, and thinking hard, he quickly formulated a plan for the portrait to act on his behalf where the Dark Lord's eyes could never follow it. Quickly, he gave the unpleasant man orders to travel to Grimmauld Place, and get the attention of anyone who was there, and transmit a message from Severus, staying there for months if need be. Hopefully someone from the Order would turn up at the old Headquarters for some reason or another, and there was a chance, however slim, that the message, or portrait itself for that matter, could find its way to Harry and his friends.

Until that time, Severus was effectively trapped at Hogwarts, watching as orcs, trolls, giants and all manner of evil creatures set up positions of strength around the school. Most outside activities would be cancelled, he supposed, not only to discourage the children from attempting to escape, but for their own protection from those vile beasts.

He would do everything in his power to soften the burden about to be placed on the students at this school, even though punishments had been placed into the hands of the Carrows by Voldemort himself, with orders to purge the school of any unworthy to become followers of the Dark Lord.

Muggleborns were to be routed out even as they attempted to board the train in London, but thankfully Severus had kept his D.A. coin, and had sent out the message that those of less than half-blood status needed to stay away from Hogwarts that year, as it was no longer safe for them to return.

He just hoped that those who had been in the D.A. in previous years would still listen to the orders from those enchanted objects, as they could also prove to be a useful means to transmit out to the wider world, calling for aid perhaps when the time was right.

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Draco wasn't completely certain how long they remained in the Golden Wood, time almost seemed to be suspended as they waited in that clearing, watching Harry and Fay as they stared silently into the Mirror of Galadriel. What would normally have been a tense amount of waiting was actually quite peaceful here.

All, except for a small fleeting annoyance in the back of Draco's mind, a shadow of something greater. Turning from where he rested against a large moss covered boulder, he gazed through the trees to the northwest. Some presence was stirring out there; he could feel it not only through his magic, but as a warning from Elendil's sword.

"There's something out there," Ron spoke up suddenly, and Draco turned to see his good friend fingering the elven spear at his side, the tip glimmering with a pale fire.

A branch snapped not far away, and they, along with Hermione, were on their feet in a flash. Skittering and clicking started around them. "Spiders," Hermione surmised quickly, and they moved to surround Faykan and Harry, who seemed completely unaware of the danger.

"How many?" Ron asked, steeling himself for a fight.

"Not sure," Hermione responded, hefting her Galadrim bow and notching an arrow.

Drawing Andúril, Draco sank into a fighting stance, eyes straining at the line of trees. The air grew very disquiet, as if in response to something violating the sanctity of the land around them, but with the elves and their magic long gone, there was nothing to stop their stealthy approach.

The silence was haunting as the three of them stood ready for several seconds, and then the trees around them erupted. Eight eyed, eight legged, massive hairy bodies launched from the undergrowth all around, landing heavily and jolting them all with the force of their weight striking the packed earth.

Draco had thought that the spiders near Hogwarts had been large, now he knew that he had been mistaken. These specimens dwarfed even the largest from that battle by at least half again in size. Pincers snapping and bile oozing, four of the massive spiders advanced from all sides, with more pouring out of the trees behind them.

Hermione struck first, screaming in fury as she launched a volley of arrows at the nearest advancing spiders, several bouncing off the main spider's carapace harmlessly, while two struck home, one striking an eye, while the second dug deeply into the unprotected flesh as its pincers had been open. Many of the other, smaller spiders were struck harder, slaying several as they tried to spill around the legs of their lager brother.

But even with its gaping wounds, the hulking monster had only staggered for a moment before recovering. Ron leapt at the ones on his side, conjuring flame with his wand and stabbing at the largest creature with Gil-galad's spear. The blue, leaf shaped blade scored light wounds, and the spider retreated a pace to escape the flames that consumed more of its kin, but otherwise remained unharmed.

As for Draco, he was beset with the remaining two elephant-sized beasts and countless smaller creatures. A quick bludgeoning hex knocked out the legs of one of the gargantuan spiders, causing it to fall mid stride, while Andúril met the other, slashing and hacking, as Draco nimbly avoided the pincers and stinger, sending countless curses and hexes at the smaller beasts. The massive creature attempted to spin around to get a better sight on the blond, but Draco ducked around behind it, slashing and stabbing at the massive abdomen, and being rewarded with shrieks of pain and spurts of black blood.

Suddenly, Draco felt something large and powerful collide with him from behind, and to his horror, he saw the spider he had tripped come barreling into him, knocking him flying back into a mass of smaller spiders, their pincers snapping at him in fury. His wand was knocked from his hand, and by reflex Draco clenched onto his remaining weapon, slashing from the ground at those that tried to swarm him while he was down.

Both Hermione and Ron were slowly being pushed back by their own mass of opponents, and were in no position to assist Draco as the massive spider stomped over to him. Draco rolled, dodging as a stinger dug into the ground where he had been laying, and thrust upward, digging the King's blade deeply into the soft underbelly of the massive spider above him.

It reared back, pulling him to his feet and wrenching the sword from its body, and retreated back, leaving a trail of black blood. But its fellows charged in to avenge the wound, and the bushes all around were still rustling and clicking with more spiders being drawn to the source of the commotion.

"Harry!" Draco heard Ron shout, "Faykan! Help us!"

Draco didn't expect the shout to work, as the pair seemed too deep in their own trance to even be aware of them, but to his amazement and relief both immediately snapped out of their dazed states. Staffs rose together and each of the powerful wizards bellowed, "kalina en' i' amrun elen urya!"

Twin explosions rocked the glade, and blinding light like twin suns blossomed all around. The spiders fell back en mass, struggling to cover their eyes from the light. In the midst of the ensuing confusion, the green and blue robed young men fell among them like thunderbolts.

Draco felt more than heard the ground shake as they one of the two landed near him. He had been blinded as well, and could only guess by the sounds of shrieking that the spiders were being driven from him with little effort. Arms seized him under the arms and hefted him backward, and as Draco's eyes came back into focus he saw Harry's face, grim and determined, yet shining with magical power.

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Harry wrenched Draco back to the area immediately around the Mirror, keeping his staff trained on the circle of spiders threateningly. 'Thirty spiders to the north, and an equal number to the east,' Faykan whispered in his mind. One of the first skills he had been so recently taught was how to manipulate the innate connection between those who served the Valar to communicate instantly with another member of the Istari.

'More of the same on the west and south,' he replied quickly. The horde had been pushed back for the moment, but they were regrouping quickly. A wave of pure magical force from the shining emerald sent the nearest line flying backward, and Harry dipped into his newly formed store of magical lore to understand where these spiders had come from.

There was no likely way that these beasts had any close ties to those of the Hogwarts forest. 'If only the forest was back in its former glory,' Faykan mourned in Harry's mind. Even as Harry danced forward to strike back at a knot of skittering creatures he responded, mind spinning with possibility, 'why couldn't it, just for a few moments at least?'

Reaching out to the ambient magic that still lingered here in the decaying heart of elvendom, Harry touched the remaining ley lines that had once protected the Golden Wood from the creatures of Mordor, charging them with the power of Vilya, while at the same time drawing Hadhafang. He knew, from the connection that he had recently been awakened to that existed between all five Istari, that Faykan was beside him doing the very same, pouring the fire of hope from Narya into the very same channels carved by Nenya long ago.

'It's brilliant, why did I not think of it. Wisely spotted Kentano.' Faykan declared as the ley lines reacted, sputtering to life with the fresh source of familiar magic.

As the five humans backed to the immediate area of the dais upon which the Mirror rested, Harry couldn't help but smile as the magic of the Three Rings returned to Lothlórien. In a last desperate charge, the spiders surged forward once again, eager to devour the five magic users. But the united front of magic users could now work together. Draco and Ron immediately set to laying a protecting ward of fire, while Hermione peppered the largest of their attackers with arrows.

Meanwhile, Faykan danced around their parameter, slaughtering many of the smaller spiders that were daring enough to charge the ward. Harry held back, monitoring the charge of power throughout the forest, and preparing the incantations that he had so recently learned. Observing the battle around him, Harry puzzled over the seeming difference of time that existed between Arda and Valinor. What had seemed to be hours on the white shores had been less than two in Lórien, and it was slightly disorienting.

The spiders continued to swarm, and as the largest arrived at the line of fire, Harry felt the magic of the wood spike around him.

It had remembered.

Color exploded around them as Faykan and Harry spoke in the ancient language of the Ñoldor, commanding the wood in the name of the Lady of Lórien to awaken to its old duties, one last time. The dead and dying vegetation sprang back into life, and gold and silver rays of light bore down from above as the memory of the mighty Mallorns shimmered into being.

The spiders fell all around them, the light burning them wherever it struck. The horde turned tail and fled, retreating from their sight, and even when they had gone Harry could still hear their shrieks of pain for a long time after. The forest remained in that state of remembrance for only a short time longer before the magic faded away for good.

Without the presence of the elves, whose very lives were works of pure magic, the forests wouldn't be able to sustain that powerful of an enchantment for more than a few moments. But that initial pulse of magical purity was more than enough to shake the conviction of the spiders from their goal.

As they all finally relaxed, Harry turned his mind to the next important task, where had the spiders come from, and why did they congregate so quickly upon them. Faykan caught his eye, and Harry knew the location immediately in the worry from his fellow Istari's face.

Long had it been since the darkness of Dol Guldur been felt this far south. The ancient fortress had long ago been razed by Galadriel herself, but the evil that marked that spot endured.

"Now what was all that about?" Ron asked loudly as he slumped in exhaustion.

"Isn't it obvious Ron," Harry said, catching the attention of the Hermione and Draco as well, "the darkness of Mordor is returning, drawn by Voldemort from all corners of the earth. Vile things best left alone are awakening in the dark, and will continue to do so until he is put down."

"We can at least end the infestation to this place, surely?" Hermione asked, looking between Harry and Faykan.

There was a long pause in which Harry and Faykan conversed quickly in the realms of thought. "We can," Faykan answered after the long conversation of a few seconds. "And we shall," Harry added, "however, it is a task for us two alone."

"What?" Ron said, confused, "you're sending us away?"

"Yes, for your safety," Harry replied.

'It is for the best,' Faykan agreed mentally, while physically he added, "the source of these beasts is far more dangerous than even the Forbidden forest outside Hogwarts. We need swiftness and stealth for this, and those back at Orthanc need to know that we are safe."

"But…" Hermione started.

Harry cut her off, "No Hermione, we are agreed in this. We simply have too much to manage to stick together all the time, and this is something best taken care by us alone."

"I agree…" Draco spoke up. Harry, along with all the others turned to him, shock evident in Ron and Hermione's faces.

"What?" he asked them, returning their gazes, "It's obvious that there are more duties than any one of us can handle, it makes logical sense. They're the most powerful magically, and are needed to deal with this situation, while we can do any number of things to make the war effort smoother."

The other two started to argue intensely, but Harry knew with Draco on their side the others would agree in the end. Faykan didn't hesitate, but immediately took up the silver pitcher, enchanting it with the spell that turned objects into Portkeys, and held it out to Draco to take.

As the three vanished in the swirl of color, Harry looked toward the north east, grimly setting his face. 'Are you ready?' he asked of Faykan mentally.

'No, but let's go anyway,' Faykan replied, hesitating only slightly before venturing forward into the trees. Harry only waited a moment before following. This may be the most potential dangerous situation they were going into, but they had agreed that worrying the others wasn't worth it when they absolutely had to go and stop this evil at its source.

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Bellatrix sniggered to herself as she strode down Diagon Alley. The fools of the wizarding public weren't ready to know that she was among them again, even though the panic would have been more than delightsome for her to witness.

Shrouded in a hooded cloak, the Dark Lord's right hand walked in the shadows up towards the newest target that her Master had ordered taken. Certain aspects of the wizarding world had been permitted to retain in the new order, while some must be regulated most strictly. And this was one thing that the Dark Lord wanted taken care of most immediately.

As she arrived at the doorstep of her target, Bella sensed several of the other followers of her Master lingered back, just in the off chance that she encountered more resistance than she expected. Not that it was very likely to happen; what could one old man do against her.

Slipping into the shop, Bellatrix silenced the bell before it could jingle and give her away. It wouldn't do to lose the element of surprise when she was to ambush one that was relatively an unknown factor, a constant that even her Lord had been nervous to have captured.

The shop was so very similar to when Bella was here last, long before her imprisonment. It had hardly changed, down to the chair in the corner that her father had hated to sit upon while he waited for them.

Drawing her wand, she stealthily scanned the shelves, trying to see where the little old man might be hiding. The slightest of creaks warned her to the man's location moments before the crash of shelves forced her to dodge backward.

"You won't get away!" she cackled, launching a blasting hex at the nearby wall, making it explode outward, destroying a fair amount of the inventory left in the store. a pair of curses caught the man as he made a mad dash toward the door.

Mr. Ollivander didn't put up much of a fight, for being such an illustrious wandmaker. Seizing the old man by the scruff of the neck, Bellatrix dragged him to his feet. The man tried to defend himself wandlessly, but a simply silencing charm snuffed out any attempts, "You're wanted by the Dark Lord," Bella whispered happily as she conjured a bag over the man's head.

The noise from inside the shop had caused many heads to turn all along the alleyway, but those same onlookers scattered as Bellatrix dragged Ollivander out into the street to the waiting underlings. Her Lord would be pleased at the success of this mission, Bella knew it for certain.

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Hermione was torn over Harry, Faykan and Draco's decision for them to separate in Lórien. On the one hand, emotionally, she was furious at them all. Were she, Ron, and Draco somehow less than the other two? Were they simply not capable of helping them the same way? But at the same time, her logical side knew that it was the right thing to do.

Draco had expressed it perfectly; there was simply other talents and abilities that she, Ron, and even Draco would be useful for than only front line fighters. And from what she had learned of the placed once called the Hill of Sorcery, it wasn't the sort of location that she would have felt very safe near even with Harry and Faykan at her side.

No, best for the pair of them to handle the most dangerous missions, as they truly were more magically powerful than even she, and Hermione and the others devote their time and abilities to those tasks that were more in line with what Harry and Faykan could not spare the time for, such as monitoring the communications from the various spies and other informants that they retained in Britain.

From the large network of D.A. coins and jewelry that had been passed out over the last two years, their resistance had plenty of information passing through regularly, to and from various members reporting on the domination of Britain. They knew, therefore, which Muggleborns were slowly being detained across the country, and that Professor Snape had been selected by the Death Eaters as Headmaster of Hogwarts. Hermione wished they had a reliable means of communicating directly with him, but the coins were more of a widespread message delivery system; when one coin sent a message, all others displayed it.

Still, it was with a rather heavy heart that Hermione entered Orthanc without the two boys who were among her closest friends, not knowing if they were safe, or even on their way shortly afterward.

"Cheer up Hermione," Ron said in passing, patting her arm, "They'll come back."

Smiling in spite of herself, Hermione wondered when the red haired boy grew to be so observant. They had changed from so long ago, from a boy that would focus solely on stuffing his face and speaking his mind, to more of a quiet and compassionate soul, although Ron managed to retain the stapled Weasley temper, when it was called for. Battle seemed to agree with him, and his obsession with chess seemed to pay off considerable with viewing strategic possibilities.

Draco on the other hand, Hermione noticed had grown quite out of his own little shell. Gone was the more aloof Slytherin that had been more of a secret friend than a loyal companion, and in his place stood a tall and proud royal heir. Hermione wondered briefly if, after all this madness with Voldemort ended, if Faykan intended to reinstate the Monarchy that had existed back in the Third and Fourth Ages.

"It would be like him," she muttered to herself aloud, her thoughts drifting to the mysterious boy-Istari. Still impossible at times, and extremely aloof, Faykan seemed to be the most constant out of them all, not that she blamed the oldest being among them for it. Rather, despite his own self remaining overall unchanged, their own growth around him seemed to have an effect of altering their view of him, from an odd boy with many significant quirks to a wise and powerful leader, humble yet bold.

Even of the four boys around her though, Hermione recognized the greatest change in Harry. From an almost timid and shy child of eleven, Harry had more than blossomed into a fearsome and determined young man. Certainly not one she would want to date, Hermione considering the boy to be more of her brother than anything else, but nevertheless quite important to her. She could confidently say that she would follow Harry to the brink of destruction and back without a second thought, and that was even before the boy had changed into the graceful and wise leader that he had under Faykan's tutoring.

Sighing to herself, Hermione shook her head wondered at the magic of the places and lands she had just encountered. She didn't count herself as one who would wax nostalgic over every little thing, but it was as though she had undergone quite the transformation herself. Was she, Hermione Granger, still the same lonely bookworm that she once was? Turning the lens of observation inward was far more difficult that looking outward upon others.

Nevertheless, there was a certain peace that seemed to overcome her as she walked the halls of Orthanc, glimpsing for the hundreth time the vast collections of artifacts and treasures from ages long past. She would not stop worrying for Faykan, Harry, or the others, especially Ron, but she had a certain peace about what their future held for them. It was as if the Valar were indeed watching over them. And that thought, while strange and rather foreign to the normally not very superstitious girl, was comforting nonetheless.

kalina en' i' amrun elen urya : light of the morning star blaze

Potential Spoilers Ahead: you Have Been Warned!

A nice, original interlude, steering away from the HP canon for a time to focus more on the characters and their needed growth. I trust it was noted by most, or will be after I reveal it, that the Istari have means and ability to assist each other in their given tasks, even when they had already departed for Valinor. A small taste of what is to come, to be sure, but I deeply felt that it was something needful to justify Harry's increase in power and wisdom, in addition to showcasing the glory and splendor of Lorien, even centuries after the elves departed. Until next time, my faithful. ~F