Chapter Four: Istari: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

Title: Lord of the Forest

Rating: T

Pairings: Harry/Legolas

Warnings: Slash, mild gore, language, some angst, a touch of depression, OOCness. A bit hard to avoid with an immortal Harry, though.

Summary: The grief after Harry's friends' deaths threatens to overcome him. With nothing and no one left, he slips into a new world, where he can start over. There he discovers he plays quite an important part... Harry/Legolas; powerful!Harry; Harry centric. Written for CasheyHooray1.00's challenge.

AN: Hehe… Yeah, again, I don't have an excuse except laziness. I feel awful for leaving you all hanging… so, an extra long chappie this time! And another already in the making, hopefully.

DISCLAIMER: LotR and HP belong to their brilliant owners: JRR Tolkien and JK Rowling.

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SECOND AGE, YEAR 504:

Harry slipped silently through the shadowed undergrowth lining the edges of his forest. His watchful eyes darted back and forth and he kept his bow within reach; he was well aware of the danger here. The Ents that guarded the outskirts of the forest had warned him many years ago of a darkness, a powerful evil growing in Middle-Earth. They told him that the wind whispered of danger, and the trees were shifting uneasily. He had taken their counsel to heart, and never left the forest's center without his bow.

Then, a few months back, the evil things had started to slash and burn their way into the forest.

The Ents had been absolutely horrified. Many, despite their uneasiness with quick decisions (which, in their eyes, meant being too hasty), immediately prepared an expedition to go begin killing off the perpetrators. But Harry had begged them to wait, and watch.

They had fought him on it, but eventually agreed to put off any attack until more information was gathered. Tenseness remained in their limbs and actions, especially as more and more reports of destroyed trees came in.

But everything had come to a climax with the death of an Ent and three Entwives. The entire forest had darkened, and a pervading gloom had invaded even the sunniest of hollows. The Ents had groaned their sorrow, and their Lord had journeyed to the murderers' camp to avenge his fallen.

Harry's inheritance-strengthened nose wrinkled in answer to the foul smell drifting from the camps. Mangled, disfigured creatures worked together to demolish the tree line before the Lord's horrified eyes. Not only was the smell rancid, but the awful, hatred-tainted magic that coated the land like oil was contaminating everything.

But above all of this, there was a fell name spoken with hushed breaths. The fear and malice with which it was said sent waves of horror down the powerful wizard's spine.

Sauron.

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It had taken about thirty years for Harry to have his fill of exploring. Another fifty or so Harry had spent relaxing and coming to terms with his new role. Twenty years later, Treebeard had finished teaching him Middle-Earth's history, customs, races, and languages. Now, here he was, two hundred and ninety-six years after he had traveled to his new home, and preparing for a new war with a new Dark Lord. "Calm yourself, my Lord. Widen your lungs, deepen your breaths. Delve deep into the source of your thoughts." Treebeard's low, gravelly voice lulled Harry further into his state of meditation.

"Have you found the beginning yet, my Lord?" Harry nodded slowly. "Good. Now immerse yourself in it. Remember feelings forgotten, lessons unlearned, and faded friends."

Harry happily dove into the source of his magic- a pool of rich brown, shot through with black- and was struck with a kaleidoscope of memories. It seemed that his magic took an imprint of everything he had ever done- everyone he had ever met- and squirreled it away to his core. He saw early memories, of light and laughter and red hair and bright colors. Harry bitterly turned from them. It hurt to be reminded that he had only ever been unburdened for a year and a half of his life.

From there the flow swept over his time at the Dursleys. It seemed even his magic didn't care for them; all those impressions were faint and foggy, like a half-developed photograph.

His Hogwarts years were preserved with breathtaking accuracy. Harry watched, tears welling, as his past self formed the famous Golden Trio and dragged them off on wild adventures. Reality faded away, and the only thing remaining was the memories and a soul-deep yearning. Harry reached out, hand trembling, to stroke his godfather's Azkaban-ravaged face.

"Oh, Padfoot…"

When the Voldemort arose, and Cedric died, Harry began to weep.

When Sirius's body fell heavily through the Veil, he wailed.

When Dumbledore went flying off the Astronomy Tower, he fell to his knees.

When he watched the war begin in earnest, and his family fall one by one, Harry Potter finally allowed himself to grieve.

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SECOND AGE, YEAR 1862

Harry shot up in bed; violently jerked from his dreams by his outer ward alarm. He paused momentarily to rub his face in an effort to rid himself of the lingering memory of a training session. He shook his head, white hair flying. Figures he'd have traumatic memories of remembering. Even if it had been so long ago…

He leapt out of his treetop bed, yanked on a pair of well-worn boots, and snatched his bow from its resting place near the door.

Then he was on the ground and running, feet barely caressing the leaves before they were off again, and the Lord of the Forest allowed himself another moment to reflect upon his dream.

That training session had been just one of many, but it had been one of the hardest. Not for physical strain, no; the total emotional upheaval had left him senseless for two days after. Treebeard had said that he needed to reestablish control over his memories and past life to seal the already strong bond he had with his magic. Until then, the small stream of magic that the Valar Oromë and Yavanna were sending him would be unavailable to him.

Harry reached the ward border, only to gaze in wide wonder at the person on the other side. Nothing could truly see the forest anymore, Harry had had to completely shield the inner trees from the Orcs and Sauron. He hadn't done it fast enough to save much, and the Entwives had made him take them to safer growing grounds. But, strangely enough, this man (who reminded him quite a lot of Dumbledore) seemed to be able to sense it.

The stranger stroked the barrier with a cautious finger. He was still shocked, if the way he jerked back was any indication.

Harry tugged on a lock of white hair (inheritance byproduct; it never did straighten out though…) and smirked. Well, he might as well help the guy out. Petunia did always say that helping the elderly was a sure-fire way to get on the Universe's good side.

The young wizard turned sharply on his heel and apparated silently right behind his intruder.

"Whatcha doing?"

Harry decided that the amount of amusement he got from watching an old man jump and shriek was not right.

The grey-clothed man regained his composure and replied, "I'm observing this rather curious barrier. It seems the work of an Illusionist, as it can conceal the forest behind, but even I had trouble sensing it was not real."

"Aye, 'tis an illusion, but not one you would be familiar with. Who are you, and why do you sense my forest?" Harry questioned, smirk shifting into a grin and eyebrow rising.

The other man bowed lightly. "Gandalf the Istari, my friend. And you might be…?"

Harry returned the bow. The trees had whispered good things of this wizard; it couldn't hurt to get to know him a bit better. Besides, he was starting to get lonely, and he hadn't been far out of the forest since a run-in with a few orcs two years back; his shoulder was still healing. "I am the Lord of this forest, good sir. Would you like to come in?"

Gandalf smiled warmly.

"That would be wonderful."

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A few hours later, Harry decided that he liked the Grey Wizard. Sure, he was a bit strange, but after living as long as they had, how could you not be?

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Good! There's Gandalf and Sauron's first war. We'll get to Legolas next!

-MC

PS: I got a complaint about the way Treebeard talks, of all things… Also one about how powerful Harry is. People, come on! It says it in the summary–!

6/25 Edit- I changed almost nothing on this chapter, because it introduces the plot some and I don't want to alter that any. So this is the end of my editing for now, look out for the new chapter soon!